#it was miserable and i still didn't get it in on time

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could. 

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.

"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.

"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."

"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.

"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."

You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.

Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.

He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.

Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.

To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.

You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

--------------------------

"Oh, God."

Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.

Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk. 

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.

"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place. 

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?

There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"

Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"

"Sure."

Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid. 

"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."

"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."

When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"

Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"

Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."

"Hmm."

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."

Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."

While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"

"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."

Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.

"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."

Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."

Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach. 

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."

"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Bradley winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."

-------------------------------------

Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.

"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."

Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.

You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.

But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.

Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.

Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"

You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.

"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."

Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."

You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."

You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."

"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up. 

It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.

You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"

His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."

Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."

Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.

"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."

Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."

When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

"Find somewhere else to sleep."

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.

When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.

------------------------------------

Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

@glenpowellluver

[banditcoyote]

He accepted the petting fot a moment before starting. "Well," he pushed himself up and wrapped and arm around Sasuga as he started recalling their evening. "I helped him with the horses from the carriage, then we snuck around the side of the house so I could sneak into Echo's office and lay the panties out for him to find. We went for a little run together around the property, but we couldn't find much privacy because a lot of wolves were patrolling. We went back to the stable, made out for a bit, and I went down on him....familiar territory." He said with a little smile. "So then we headed back to his apartment, and we had another drink. We went to bed....and you know, things were getting there. Sasuga...I know you don't want a level of detail or anything, but he was being....he was great, and I'm not even talking on just a talent level,but he was really going slow, and letting us take our time, and I was comfortable with him, but I started getting a bit nervous because I was worried about you. I was really worried that maybe you'd see me differently, and that it would be a wedge between us, and instead of you know saying it like that, or explaining my fear in a normal way...I said...." He closed his eyes and sighed "You're not worth losing Sasuga over" He let this hang in the air for a moment and then shook his head. "It was like I slapped him. And of course I meant...you know...I didn't want to damage what we have because I wanted a bit of fun, but saying 'You're not worth it'? When he was being so great all night, and so perfect with me, to someone I like... It would have been better if I had slapped him I think. As soon as I said it. I realized my mistake I tried to explain, and of course he listened, but I could tell it cut him, and obviously ruined the mood, I asked him for more, I nearly begged because I felt so terrible, I didn't know how to make it up to him. But of course he wouldn't and instead got me settled down, made me a tea, cuddled with me even though that just made me more miserable, but shut down any advances beyond kissing. In the morning he was still there being the big spoon, he kissed my cheek, jacked me off, made me an amazing breakfast and walked me back here to wait with me until you sent that video...he must have taken off when I left." He said truly blinded by Sasuga when he came back into the room. "I feel awful."

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

[snoopyhq]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ we should just kiss like real people do

NOT using cherry wine because the song has been through too many bastardizations already, and i'm a hozier fan before i'm anything else. to use cherry wine would be a disgrace, even if it has the 'perfect' line for a fic like this)

type: viktor x vampire reader

summary: headcanons and then a drabble of an instance where you feed

warning(s): blood, vampirism

word count: 921

a/n: been thinking about vampirism a whole lot lately as well as feeling down, so now i cope through tumblr fics. i love viktor, i wish i felt as strongly about real life people like i do for him

For a creature that's considered parasitic, the relationship you have with your eccentric scientist proved quite mutualistic

When you first stalked him on his walk home that late, late night, he had seemed like ordinary prey, easy to sink your teeth into and forget about

Something stopped you

Maybe it was that look in his eyes, flickering like a flame in the dark of that alleyway, refusing to die

They were so determined, so full of life

How could you ever drain them of that spark? It wasn't right

You could sense his fear, so palpable in the air, but he stood firm. His grip on his cane steady, his posture straight as he stared right at you with those lovely eyes, a million stories flitting through them

The eyes of someone who fought to survive since the moment he was born

You felt yourself slowing down, and then dropping to your knees completely

What were you doing? Were those tears in your eyes? You've become so jaded

Immortality had made you nothing

This mortal, so brief in the fabric of time, and his life already so weak and waning, had more... what was it? vigor to him

Lust was something you knew very well. Bloodlust. You embodied it. That urge that could never be satisified, the driving force that keeps your miserable legs moving, your body agile and agitated

His lust was one for life. For pursuit too, as you came to find out

A deal was struck that night; knowledge in exchanged for food

You allowed him to observe you and ask his questions, to witness your hunts (on animals now. less thrilling, but you digress)

In return, he became a sustainable food source. You didn't have to go out and about in the night now and get paid in stupid drunks or those rotten enforcers for your efforts

How lovely, to have something consistent for once

You could get used to this

Get used to him

divider below from @/dollywons !!!

The quiet comfort of the bedroom reminded you of your old crypt, in a way. It was dark. The sheets were soft and meticulously kept. It smelled of leather and old books and dried ink on fresh paper. The new addition was Viktor.

You'd started lounging about in his home, and his room became your favorite corner of the house. It became ritual for him to joke about having a coffin fixed there so you won't have to hog the blankets. Not his blankets. They were to be shared now, and he was fine with that. The coffin idea was still appealing though.

Tonight interrupted the quiet. You lingered before him, eyeing the pale curve of his neck. It was taking all your self control to not pounce on him immediately.

"Are you comfortable?" you asked.

He shifted around a bit, and then nodded.

"I'll try to keep accurate time. See if you're more greedy than last time," he joked.

Tsk. It wasn't that funny. (It is). You weren't as hungry as before.

Now you hovered above him, having laid him down. There was less hesitation this time, and you wonder if he'd note that down in his journal. You both did this song and dance enough by now to be comfortable with one another.

Still, the act of feeding was one of savagery. That can't change. When mixed with romance? It clashed, horribly. Your inherent nature versus what had been nurtured.

The taste of his blood filled your mouth, and you could sing to the heavens. If such a creature like yourself were allowed to. You weren't sure on the terms and conditions of that. Regardless, he was so sweet. A heady vermillion ambrosia on your tongue.

You were taking such care to be gentle with him.

You didn’t want to hurt him, but your love was violence, the draining of life, and the dark urges that lurk beneath every man, and he was already going limp.

Shit.

You pulled back immediately, the red still dripping from your teeth and down your throat. It mirrored the punctures on his. Viktor, the stubborn bastard, gripped the edge of your sleeve. He tugged insistently.

"I'm fine. I'm not as fragile as you think," he said, miffed.

“Too bad. I’m full,” you slowly pry yourself from his grip.

While he lazed back, you grabbed the first-aid kit. So used to it by now. He didn’t even flinch when you applied the antiseptic. After securing the gauze, you leaned down to brush another kiss against his lips, and he sighed at the slight feel of your fangs against the skin there.

“Was your vampire research quota met?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow to observe him.

“Very much,” he replied. “I look forward to comparing it with next week’s results.”

As he drifted off in your arms, you felt affection swell in your heart, and a fierce protectiveness over him.

He was strong.

You knew that more than anyone. He walked such a thin line between life and death. You could hear the beat of his heart, the flowing in his veins, and fragility of his tissues and arteries and bones. He pushed on, despite it. Taking his body to limits that had you balking, and you were near invincible.

In your hold, he was so delicate. His body was already thin and frail. So easily breakable. The very thought made you uncomfortable, and you tightened your hold on his sleeping form.

He was strong. You’ll protect him anyways.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

You’re like the best writer of smut here ☺️☺️☺️

Please I’m begging 90s James (can be any era) taking reader’s virginity? But he didn’t know she’s innocent and she thinks after all the groupies he fucked he’d be disappointed in her? But he’s actually super turned on, cause no one touched her and now he gets to ruin her??? So I guess corruption kink, purity kink, dirty talk, size kink (he’s big, we all know that)???

A/n: I've had this conversation with a friend a few times, my idea is that -going off of the picture of James on the record, we all know the one- he's roughly 5-7 inches (8 being a generous amount) because he's holding himself in his hand and there's still some poking out, plus he looks flaccid SO by my calculations I've come up with said lengths, let me know if you want to hear more of my thoughts on sixty year old mens dicks🫠

Warnings: Smut, size kink, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), idk about corruption and purity kinks but I tried lol, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You straddled his lap, arms around his neck with your fingers laced in his hair. James's arms were around you, holding you close while he attacked your lips with your own, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You'd been dating for two months, getting closer to three, and you still hadn't told him he would be your first. You'd gone on a few dates, some highschool romances but those didn't mean anything really.

You were quiet and kept to yourself, you didn't go out, you didn't get dates, how you managed to get him was beyond you but here you were, in his bed, in his lap, in his arms with his hard on pressed firmly against your ass.

Honestly, you didn't think you'd make it this far with him. James was a rocker, the lead singer of a big band, he'd been with so many women it was hard to believe that he went cold turkey just because he met you.

"Sweetheart," he spoke, getting your attention, "what's wrong?" He asked, bringing a hand up to your face and thumbing your cheek in a soothing motion.

"What's wrong..?" You repeated softly, letting him move your face further away so he could look at you. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You were thinking about something." He said with a warm smile. "You stopped kissing me."

You gave a small nod, understanding why he was stopping now. "Right, sorry." You leaned closer to kiss him again but you only got a quick peck before he pushed you away again.

"What were you thinking about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes flicking down to your red lips.

"Nothing." You assured.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nothing, tell me." He said sternly, looking you in the eye. You chewed your cheek, he knew just what eyes to give to make your knees weak.

"I'm sorry." You finally said. "I know you're used to a lot of women, you're used to groupies, and I'm not them and I don't think it'll be good enough but I want to try, I just literally don't know how..?" You explained.

James blinked at you, expression blank. "Sweetheart, I mean this politely, what the fuck do you mean?" He couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "Are-are you saying you're scared you're not good enough at sex for me?"

Your mouth opened before the words came out. "Well, yeah but that's not exactly what I meant." You mumbled. "I mean... I-I might be lacking in the, um, sex...ual... intimacy? With, you know... others?"

James inhaled deeply, he gave a nod and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you trying -and failing miserably, might I add- that you're a virgin?" You huffed at his comment but you had to nod.

"Yes." You mumbled, fingers curling in his hair to scratch his scalp. He gave a small hum and pulled away from you again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he did.

"Right, and I'd be upset because?" You thought for a while but whatever train of thought you were on was cutoff when you felt him twitching against your ass. "Sweetheart, we can take it slow, you just gotta talk to me."

You inhaled deeply, nodding along as he spoke. "Jamie," you started, "I-I want you to take me... my virginity..." Your voice fell to a mumble, embarrassed at actually saying it out loud, so bluntly as well. Straight to his face.

James smiled up at you. "Alright then." He said, hand going to undo your shorts.

Your face flushed as he did so. "What-what are you doing?" You asked, slight panic slipping into your voice.

"Don't worry, I told you we can take it slow." He assured, closing the gap between you for a moment as he helped you out of your shorts. "But that means I have to get you ready for me, sweetheart, it's not gonna be easy fitting me into you if you're not ready." While it made sense you didn't want to think too much about it.

James continued to pepper your face with kisses as he pushed your panties to the side. He ran a finger through your folds, giving a small hum of approval at how wet you were already. He pushed a finger into you, enjoying the soft gasp that left you when he did.

"Tell me, sweetheart, and be honest." He spoke. "You have touched yourself before, haven't you?" He asked, combing his free hand through your hair.

You hesitated before answering, cheeks already dusted a candy red colour. "Um, I-I have toys..." You mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes as you said it.

James's smile widened. "You do, do you?" He asked. "And when you use them, you think of me don't you?" He questioned further, started to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your breaths grew heavy, eyelids fluttering as his finger moved. "I think of you, Jamie." You said, but it wasn't enough, you were already going this far, you had more to get off your chest. "I-I think of you on top of me, I think of the faces you make and I think of what you sound like... I think of you naked, I think of-of what you'd look like with my-my hand around you... your cock... I think about what it-it looks like when you cum." Once you started you couldn't stop, all the filthy things you'd been thinking about coming out like dirty commandments.

James listened in slight shock, he hadn't known you to be so needy. "Filthy slut." He said with a smile, adding a second digit. "Keep talking." He urged. "I want to hear what else you think of when you're getting yourself off."

The addition of another finger made you whine but he slowed down to let you get used to the stretch. You swallowed thickly and nodded, mentally preparing yourself to continue.

You closed your eyes, letting his fingers resume the same motion, in and out, slow and curling to find what made you tick. "I think ah-about riding you, my-my hands on your chest while you tell me wh-ah- what to do, how-how good I'm doing."

"What kind of toys do you have, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, he wasn't even supposed to know you touched yourself, now he was supposed to know what you're using to do it with? "C'mon, I won't judge." He said, kissing the tip of your nose as his fingers curled in you, making your eyes roll and he knew to hit that spot again.

"They-they're vibrators."

"They?" He repeated. "As in multiple?" Your eyes widened as the realization of what you'd admitted to. "Naughty girl." He curled his fingers again, bringing you closer to your already nearing release.

James added another finger, moving his hand faster now as he scissored your hole in an attempt to prep you for his cock. "When you're alone in bed with your toys, that's how you do it, isn't it?" He asked for confirmation.

You gave it willingly, nodding your head as more moans started falling from your lips.

"You're thinking about me." He continued. "What kind of vibrators?" He asked again. "You've never had anything inside you, sweetheart, right? I'll be the first?" You nodded, his fingers making it hard to focus on anything else. He chuckled as he saw how close you were. "That's it, that's my good girl, cum on my fingers."

Your gut tightened before bursting, your eyes rolled back. Your hands resting on his shoulder clutched his shirt in your fists as you came, a string of curses leaving you.

James groaned lowly at the sight, his fingers still moving in you and letting you ride out your high on them.

As you came down from it, though, he let you melt into him, slowly and carefully shifting you to lay on your back on the mattress. Your head fell back onto his pillow, his scent filling your nose, completely taking you over.

James hovered over you a moment, propping himself between your legs and holding himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your head. "Is this what you fantasize about, sweetheart?" You could only nod and let him undress you before following shortly after.

"I'll go slow, so just relax." He said, brushing some of your hair out of your face. "And if, for any reason, you want to stop, tell me. I want to know- I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything for whatever reason, am I understood?" He asked firmly, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You nodded, staring right back at him as he used his other hand to line himself up with your cunt before pushing in. He did just what he said he would, moving slowly.

He stopped to pepper kisses all over your face and tell you how good you were doing. "That feels good, doesn't it? Feels good when I stretch you out like this." You nodded, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed out on his back.

"You-you're so big." You mumbled, looking down at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you both connected. Only, what you saw was a few more inches still needing to be pushed in.

James let out hearty laugh when he saw your eyes widen. "Only halfway, sweetheart, you'll know when I'm balls deep, don't worry."

You slowly relaxed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind full. "You're gonna tear me in two." You muttered to no one in particular, James was the only one there to hear and it made him laugh.

"Damn right I am." He agreed. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart, no ones gonna stretch you out like this, no ones gonna make you theirs." His eyes flickered over your face, taking in your expression of wide eyes and the small pout on your lips. "No one else gets to be your first."

In a quick motion he pushed the rest of himself into you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hands clawing at his back and making him groan. He looked down, grin only getting bigger as he saw the bulge he made in your stomach.

"No one else gets to do that." He purred, reaching a hand down to press on your stomach. A whine left you as he did, your legs tried to close but he was in the way. "Not so fast, sweetheart, we haven't even gotten started yet."

[thatguyjam]

Anything for you

Max Verstappen x Male!Migranes!Reader

When Y/N cant manage to get out of bed because of his head, Max is there to wait on him hand and foot

The moment you woke up, all you could think about was your pain. The pulsing pain of your head not letting you open your eyes, or form a single coherent thought. Rolling over in bed, and reaching towards where Max usually lay this early in the morning, all that was left were warm sheets.

"Hey sleepy head, time to wake up" You hear Max call, too loud, quite frankly, from the kitchen. Quick steps coming toward the bedroom followed that, with loud knocks on the door.

"I've made pancakes, come on and eat while their still hot. I didn't even burn them this time!" As Max entered the room he soon quieted down, looking at your miserable figure in the sheets. Creeping closer, and finally whispering, he asks "Hey, baby, what's wrong? Is it your head?"

As you nodded, he cooed softly, and climbed into bed to hug you, and massage your sore joints. "Here, I'll bring you the delicious pancakes I made, and your pain meds, and come coffee, and we can spend the entire day in bed, yeah?" And before you could laugh at his claim that the pancakes were delicious, he had hurried out to get you your breakfast.

The two of you spent the entire morning lazing about in bed, exchanging kisses, and cuddles, and only once abandoning the warmth of the bed, for some more snacks; and eventually, you fell back to the warm comfort of sleep.

At about 13:00, you suddenly awoke to the blaring sound of one of Max's alarm. He rushed to turn it off, but when he looked at the screen, his face fell. "Shit"

"What's wrong?"

"I promised the redline boys that I would hop on stream this afternoon, I can cancel and stay in bed with you though, don't worry"

"No, you should go, I'll be fine"

"But what if you need something! I'll be all distracted and won't be able to help. I can't do that to you" The pout on his face was too adorable, that you couldn't help but kiss it off of him, only stopping to offer your own solution.

"Well how about I set up camp on the couch? I can be off camera and you can keep an eye on me."

"But-"

"I don't care if you're loud, baby. I'll probably fall asleep instantly anyway."

"Fine, but I'm doing all the work."

Within ten minutes, and entire blanket fort had been constructed on the couch, and Max came back to take you to his creation. Only once he had made sure you had enough food, meds, water, and entertainment, did he finally go to his sim set up to stream.

While watching him interact with his friends, notably quieter than normal, the warmth of the at least 20 blankets surrounding you drew you to sleep, with his voice as a beautiful, occasionally angry, lullaby.

[nightingale-prompts]

-okay okay I learned my lesson. No more making up media for posts. (I will probably forget and do it again)

-Next movie night-

Movie:What are you sorry for this time, Melody? Being born? Being sick all the damn time? Existing? It's not like you had a choice in any of it. No one wanted you around to begin with.

Damian:*biting the inside of his cheek* who let Drake pick the movie?

Movie:If you're dying, Melody, just do everyone a favor and hurry it up. Don't drag this out any longer. No one wants to watch you waste away in that bed. I'll get your fucking medicine. But this is the last goddamn time I'm saving your miserable ass, understand?

Bruce: *looking at the ceiling so he doesn't tear up of course* He can't mean that.

Movie:I love you. I know you hate me. I know you'd be happy if I was gone. But you're all I have in this world so I can't help but love you. You're my only family. If you weren't here I'd be dead.

Dick: *Has been crying the entire movie* noooo....please. She loves so much and he just-ghuaaa *sniff*

Movie:I'm not your family, Melody. I'm just the poor sap who got stuck with the job of keeping you alive. Don't mistake my grudging obligation for love.

Jason:*understands this too well and it hurts so much* fuck, I hate this so much.

Movie:I had gotten it from the medical school, I told her that I needed the heart monitor for research. That was a damn lie. I didn't know why I had done it, only that I couldn't bear the thought of her dying alone, unnoticed, unremembered. Or maybe I just wanted to know the moment when she finally dies and the exact moment I'd be free. That's so fucked up. I'm actually waiting for my sister to die...for my sake!

Cassandra: *walkes out of the room after feeling an emotion*

Movie:Last time we went to the hospital the doctor told me it wasn't long before her heart gave out. Even if an eligible donor could be found we wouldn't be able to afford the surgery. It would take a miracle for her to survive. Let's face it...there aren't enough miracles to go around... I'm just a kid! Why is it my job to do all this! I don't want to watch her die! I don't want this damn responsibility!

Barbara: *bearly holding it together and has been silently tearing up*

Movie:Goodbye, Melody. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I couldn't be the brother you deserved. I'm sorry I hated you for so long. Maybe in the next life, Melody, we can be a real family. But for now, it's time for you to let go and be free of all this pain.

Stephanie: *sobbing* Duke, why aren't you crying?

Duke:*absolutely destroyed and going to breakdown later* I cry on the inside.

-Later-

Tim:*eyes red from crying* I think tye movie had the opposite effect. They aren't mad anymore but now they won't leave me or the rest of the family alone. Even Damian is being nicer.

Danny: Sooo...is the date still on the table?

(Ha, you thought I'd stop making stuff up?! Jokes on you!)

Tim: I've come to you in a time of great need. I need Dick and Bruce to get off my back.

Danny: I see and what's it worth to you?

Tim: A date.

Danny: Deal! Show them this movie. Got it from a neighboring universe.

Tim: What's it about?

Danny: A little girl who has a chronic illness and is slowly dying while her neglectful parents abandon her to be raised by her older brother who is bearly older than her. He hates and resents her but she never hates him because she relies on him to survive and feels like that's love enough. She is treated like a burden by her parentified brother who takes care of her until she dies in her sleep after telling him that she will always love him. It's the perfect movie to fill your family with guilt and I use it on Jazz all the time. It will make you want to curl up into a ball and cry though.

Tim: That's evil. I'll take it.

[luckymilkshakerebel]

A Love Rekindled

Genre: fluff, clingy and a little bit angst

Content warning: too much fluff, a little bit smut, angst

Cast : seungmin x reader

---

It had been a full week since I last heard from him. A week of unanswered texts and calls that went straight to voicemail. Every time I dialed his number, it rang once or twice before he hung up. My heart sank with each call that ended without a word. I didn’t understand what was happening. We’d never gone this long without talking, without checking in with each other. I tried to convince myself that maybe he was just busy, but as the silence stretched on, doubts began to creep in. What had I done wrong? Was he pulling away?

Then, one morning, I woke up feeling horrible. My throat was sore, my body ached, and a headache made it impossible to concentrate. I didn’t have the energy to fight it, so I stayed in bed, trying to sleep it off. But as the 1 day passed, I knew I needed something. I decided to drag myself to the pharmacy to get some medicine, hoping it would make me feel better.

I was barely able to stand as I walked into the pharmacy, feeling miserable, but I had to get something to ease the symptoms. I shuffled over to the aisle for cold and flu meds, trying to focus despite my dizziness. I grabbed a box of medicine and stood there, staring blankly at the shelf, when I heard a voice.

“Are you okay?”

I turned around and froze. There, standing in front of me, was my boyfriend friend Han. He looked surprised to see me, and his face softened when he saw how pale and unwell I looked. His eyes searched mine, and I could tell he hadn’t expected to run into me here—especially not like this.

I didn’t have the energy to say much, so I just nodded weakly, not wanting to explain everything that had been building up over the past week. Han looked at the medicine in my hands and then back at me. His expression shifted from concern to something else, something I couldn’t quite place.

“Why are you here? You don’t look well,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding more serious.

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I’m sick. I just... I wasn’t feeling good, and I needed something.”

Han brow furrowed. “You should’ve told seungmin. Did he know?”

You shake your head as a sign of no, Seungmin doesn't know

Before han could respond, you said " i need to go, bye" you pay for you medicine and start to go home as you feel worse.

As you push the door open, the weight of the day presses harder on your already aching body. The air inside your home feels still, a silence broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. You're burning up with fever, but hunger gnaws at your stomach. You shuffle toward the kitchen, each step heavier than the last.

You fumble through the cabinets, finding ingredients for something simple—a bowl of soup. The rhythm of chopping vegetables feels distant, like you're watching yourself from afar. The heat of the stove makes you sweat more, but you endure, determined to eat something, anything, to regain some strength.

When it's ready, you ladle the soup into a bowl and sit at the table. The aroma is comforting, but as soon as you bring the spoon to your lips, your stomach churns violently. You take a small sip, but it’s no use—your body rebels, forcing you to rush to the sink. You didn't eat yesterday and still can't eat

You lean over, heaving, as waves of nausea take over. The fever has robbed you of your appetite, leaving you weak and defeated. After cleaning up, you sink onto the couch, shivering despite the warmth surrounding you. The untouched bowl of soup sits on the counter, a reminder of how your body has betrayed you today. You drift to sleep

After a while, The door clicked open, and you barely stirred from the couch. Fever had made you sluggish, but the sound of someone entering your home snapped you out of your haze.

Your boyfriend, seungmin walked in, his face filled with concern, but something about it annoyed you. Seungmin used the password to let himself in—no knocking, no waiting for permission. His eyes darted to the kitchen counter where the half-eaten bowl of soup sat, then back to you slumped under the blanket.

“You didn’t finish your soup,” seungmin said, his voice gentle but edged with frustration. “You need to eat something, even just a little. You’ll feel worse if you don’t.”

You sighed, turning away from him, your back against the couch. “I’m not hungry,” you muttered, your tone flat. “And I don’t need you hovering.”

Seungmin paused for a moment, clearly taken aback. “I’m not hovering,” he defended, stepping closer. “I’m just worried. You didn’t tell me you were this sick.”

You let out a bitter laugh, heat rising—not just from the fever but from your frustration. “Oh, now you’re worried Seungmin? After ignoring me for days? You only care when it’s convenient for you.”

His jaw tightened, and he sat down beside you, his voice softer but firm. “I didn’t ignore you y/n. I’ve been busy—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, cutting seungmin off. “You could’ve checked in. A text 'i'm home' or I'm busy' doesn’t take much effort, Seungmin.”

Seungmin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to help. Can you at least let me?”

You turned to face Seungmin, your exhaustion and irritation swirling together. “I’m too tired to argue,” you muttered. “But I don’t want to eat. Just... stop pushing.”

Seungmin didn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor. Finally, he stood up and walked to the kitchen. You heard the sound of running water as he dumped out the soup, and guilt pricked at you, but you were too drained to say anything.

When he came back, he sat down quietly, leaning back against the couch. After a few moments, he said softly, “I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Let me take care of you now, even if you’re mad at me.” Seungmin continued "did you eat something today or yesterday, i know you can't eat well when you get sick, did you eat the soup?" you just shook your head.. Seungmin start to get annoyed with your stubborn.

Seungmin gets up to get the soup again, he's going to make sure you eat tonight."You should eat," Seungmin prompted you gently. trying to coax you out of couch. You had been trying to sleep off your violent cold you somehow acquired from work. The suggestion of moving out of your comfort space wasn't so appealing, not when you had finally found the angle to stop your nose running or your throat to feel irritated enough to send you into a coughing fit.

"I bring food for you, let's not waste it," Seungmin sighed, stroking hair out of your face tenderly. You shook your head

"But you need to eat now," Seungmin insisted softly. You knew he was Worried about you, and it made you feel bad for being so stubborn about this.

"Left there. i will eat later" you said softly

"Don't put it off. I bring the food you make to make sure you eat" he encouraged, gently tugging at your arm to get you to sit up, so he could place a tray on your lap. You look up "why did you came?"

"What, you didn't think I would be checking in on you?" Seungmin scoffed gently, sitting on the edge of your bed with you. "Why wouldn't I come and see you?"

I felt a lump form in my throat, and I could barely hold back the tears. “You’ve been ignoring me for a week... I’ve been trying to reach you, and you kept hanging up every time I called. I didn’t know what to think.”

His face fell, and he stepped closer to me. “I know. I messed up. I didn’t mean to shut you out. I was dealing with some stuff, but that’s no excuse. I should’ve been there for you.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked down at the floor. The silence between us was heavy, but it felt like he truly regretted his actions.

“I’ll make it right,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I’ll take care of you now. I’m not leaving until you’re okay.”

"But you have been ignored me for one week... I need you but you keep shutting me out. But then because I'm sick you came? Because of what?Why did you came?" Seungmin froze at your words, and instantly, guilt consumed his expression.

"Hey, stop... I haven't been ignoring you," he denied, even if the truth wasn't on his side. "I just... I've been busy with work is all"

He reached to take your hand, threading his fingers with yours. "Listen, I'm here now, aren't i? Don't think that I don't care about you," Seungmin murmured, biting his lip.

"Hey." Seungmin said, more firmly. He cupped your chin with his other hand, forcing you to look at him properly.

"You know I love you, right? Just because I'm a little busy it doesn't mean i don't want to be around you. l'd have never come here if I didn't want to see you," he confessed, frowning as you continued to look miserable. "Am i that clingy"

"No-!" Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed at your broken tone. He looked a little sad that you would even suggest that. "| didn't mean it when I said that, okay? I was just annoyed, I didn't mean a word of it... I like your clingy, I just... I was stupid," he muttered, looking frustrated with himself.

"Then am i a burden to you" you look at him . "You aren't a burden to me," Seungmin reassured you tenderly, rubbing your shoulder. He sighed heavily, still a little frustrated that he had made you feel this way.

"How many times have I told you that you're the most important thing to me," he mumbled, gently resting his forehead on yours. "The idea of losing you.. Scares me. YoU aren't a burden to me. And you aren't clingy, either. But you are mine," he added, pressing his lips against your forehead.

"But you keep shutting me out" On the verge of tears

"I know. I know" Seungmin pulled back, looking frustrated with himself. He ran a hand through his short black hair restlessly.

"I don't know why I shut you out, it wasn't intentional. I'm just an ass sometimes," he mumbled, sighing.

"Do you. Do you really think I don't want you?" He mumbled, looking genuinely saddened by the idea. " Because you keep ignoring me, i can't help the thought" you look away

"I don't ignore you," Seungmin denied, but it was a weak protest. He had a terrible habit of shutting you out when he was stressed. "I don't know because you keep ignorig me"

"Honestly, it's not even me that does it... It's like, I'm fine, and things are great, but the second something stressful happens it's like you're at the back of my mind... And then a week goes by, and I feel like an idiot." He ran a hand through his hair stressed, looking guilty. Silent

Seungmin took a deep breath, trying to control the frustration building up in him. He hated himself for making you feel this way.

"I'm an idiot, okay? A real jerk... But I love you. You don't, for a second, believe that I don't want you.. right?" He asked, grabbing your hand again and gently holding it in both of his hands. You keep silent and look away

"Hey," he said, his voice firm. "Look at me." Seungmin grabbed your chin to force you to look at him again. Despite the slight frown, it was obvious that he was desperate for you to pay attention.

"Have I ever not been into you?" He asked quietly, gently caressing your chin with his thumb. "Have I ever been annoyed with you hanging on me? I... I like it, and I need it," Seungmin mumbled, looking frustrated with his Own actions. Or, more so, his lack of actions.

You still avoid his eyes. Seungmin huffed a little, gripping your chin a bit firmer to keep you facing him. "Please just look at me," he pleaded, looking pained that you still refused to look at him. He didn't want you to be so distant from him, it hurt him to see you looking so cold towards him.

You finally look at him.Seungmin felt a wave of relief wash over him when you looked at him. It was still a bit frustrating that you had looked away in the first place, but at least you weren't avoiding his gaze now.

"You can be as clingy as you want," he mumbled. "In fact, please be. I want you to be." He ruffles your head softly, but still you don't give any response

"Please say something," Seungmin groaned frustrated. He hated that you wouldn't talk to him. Was he really making you that angry?

He gently caressed your cheek, trying to coax you into speaking. "I'm here now... and I'm not going anywhere," he attempted to reassure you, even if he didn't know if he'd be able to keep that promise again.

"Why did you come when I got sick? Do i need to get sick every time I need your attention?" Softly mumble, you look at you lap

"No," Seungmin huffed, gently gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. He hated your tone - it was so cold, and it hurt him that you felt like this.

"No, you don't need to be sick to get my attention... Don't say stuff like that," he mumbled, looking upset by your statement.

"I'm glad that han see you at the pharmacy, I'm sorry because i left you alone, leaving you hanging without reaching to you" He gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him again. He didn't like it when you Wouldn't look at him. He liked the feeling of your eyes on him a lot, it made him feel a lot of things.

"Hey, I need you, okay? And i know it's not easy to forget that if I keep... shutting you out, but I do. I always need you," Seungmin mumbled, desperately trying to get you to believe him.

"You know that I have trust issues" He gripped your chin a little firmer, making you look at him again. His hand was warm on your chin, the gentlest yet firm touch.

"I know. And i know that l'm not exactly helping that.." he mumbled, looking frustrated. It hurt that he had been the one to contribute to your trust issues.

"Please tell me I haven't broken your trust entirely," Seungmin mumbled,

feeling a heavy ball of guilt and sadness in his chest. "Maybe, i don't know" you said as looking at him

Seungmin swallowed hard, feeling that lump in his throat expand. You were so closed off to him now and, god, he hated it. It was his Own damn fault for acting the way he did, and now he wanted nothing more than to hold you, to make you look at him normally again.

"Hey, please," he murmured brokenly. "I hate this. Don't... don't be so distant"

"I can't help when you keep brushing me off" you play with your hands.

"I'm sorry," Seungmin mumbled, feeling like an incredible jerk for acting the way he had.

He gently pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist.He buried his face into your shoulder, pulling you against him. He had missed this. The feeling of you in his arms, the feeling of your body against his.

Seungmin tightened his grip when you tried to pull away. pulling you closer against him and shaking his head.

"Don't hug me, what if you get infected" you tried to push him

"| don't care," he mumbled, burying his face in your shoulder more. He took a deep breath, drinking in your scent that he had missed so much this past week. "Don't Seungmin"

"No," he mumbled firmly, refusing to let you pull away from him.

His grip on your was tight, refusing to budge. He wanted you against him,he needed to feel your body against him. He needed it.

"I will eat but after that you need to go" you finally decide to eat, Seungmin felt a wave of disappointment hit him again, but he nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah. Yes, okay," he mumbled. He didn't want to leave, especially after finally being able to be with you again, but he couldn't really argue. He had been ignoring you for a week, after all. "Give me the food" you reach your hands

Seungmin felt hurt by your cold command, but he couldn't blame you. Hehad been acting ike an idiot.He grabbed the tray of food he had left on the couch, handing it over to you.

He continued to linger, staring at you for a moment. Part of him was desperate to stay here, but he knew it would be better to give you Some space. But he still didn't want to leave. "why" as you see he fidgeted awkwardly for a moment, biting his lip.

"l don't wanna go," Seungmin mumbled quietly. He was being honest. He didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay and keep his arms wrapped around you. He fidgeted again, looking at you with a conflicted look on his face.

He knew that he should give you space, but he didn't want to leave. He wanted, needed to stay with you.

"Can I... Can I just stay a little longer?" He mumbled quietly. "Why" you slowly look at him

"Because I miss you," Seungmin mumbled, looking at you with sadness in his eyes. He missed being close with you, he missed having you in his arms like before. It hurt, being apart from you.

"Because I don't want to leave when you still won't look at me."

Seungmin's expression dropped when you didn't even look him. It was like a stinging pain in his chest. You still wouldn't look at him.

You look at him and ask is that enough

"No," he murmured, feeling frustrated. "It's not enough. Look at me, please." Seungmin felt a bit of relief wash over him when you finally looked at him.

But it didn't feel the same as when you normally look at him.

"I'm already staring at you "

"I mean...properly" he mumbled, gripping your chin gently to keep your gaze on him.

"Don't touch, I'm eating" Seungmin huffed a little, pouting a bit when you told him not to touch.

"You don't like it when I touch you anymore," he mumbled, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Because I'm eating" coldly

"Yeah, I know you're eating," Seungmin mumbled, watching you eat. Part of him was a bit glad you couldn't talk while you were busy eating, because he wasn't sure if he could deal with your tone again. But he still felt hurt about the distance and his own damn fault.

He continued to watch you eating, a conflicted look on his face. He wanted to touch you, but he knew that you had told him not to. He desperately wanted to pull you into his lap, to kiss down your neck, to hold you close. But, he knew that he couldn't because he didn't deserve that privilege right now.

Seungmin's eyes widened a bit when you suddenly got up, feeling a small bit of panic rise in his chest.

"Where are you going?" He immediately questioned, his voice a bit worried

"water"

Seungmin felt a small bit of relief wash over him as you responded to him,but he still felt worried.

"Alone?" He questioned, his voice quiet and a bit concerned. You Hm, Seungmin grimaced a bit, not liking the quiet hum as a response. He fidgeted with his fingers fora second, before carefully asking another question. "Can I... Can I come with you?"

"Why, you stay there... The kitchen is not far"

Seungmin felt a pang of disappointment as you told him to stay there. Hewanted to come with you, he didn't want to be apart from you again.

"Please, " he said, his voice sounding a bit desperate. "I..l just don't want to be apart from you..."

"Hm"

Seungmin was growing more and more frustrated with your short responses. He just wanted to be near you, and you seemed so cold to him right now.

"Just let me come with you," he pleaded brokenlų, his tone almost

sounding desperate.

"Quick, I'm choking"

Seungmin immediately snapped out of whatever he was feeling when he heard your words, now just feeling worried and panicked.

"You're choking?" He questioned, already on his feet and rushing over to you. He grabbed your shoulders, his grip on you firm as he tried to assess the situation. His heart was racing in his chest, worry consuming him as he held onto you.

"Are you okay?" He questioned, looking you over franticly.

"Because there's no water"

Seungmin felt his annoyance rise again when you responded with another short response. He squeezed your shoulders again, not exactly Sure of the reason why he was feeling so annoyed and frustrated right now.

"So you said you were choking because you were thirsty?" He questioned, his tone a bit sharp.

"hm"

Seungmin felt like he was going to lose his mind if you responded with another single word. He was already frustrated with how cold and distant you were being, and it was making his emotions a mess. "Stop just giving me one word answers!" He snapped frustratedly.

You rise your eyebrows, Seungmin realised that he had just snapped at you and immediately regretted it. He didn't mean to snap at you, especially when he was the reason why you were being so distant in the first place.

He sighed heavily. gently letting go of your shoulders as another wave of guilt hit him.

“Im sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

As you turned to go to the kitchen, Seungmin felt another pang of helplessness run through him. It made him feel like a damn idiot, watching you turn and walk away like that.

He felt like he should try to follow you, to keep you close. But he didn’t know if you actually wanted him around right now.

“Quick if you want to follow me” as you sense that he’s not following you

Seungmin immediately followed after you without pausing. He wanted to follow you, he needed to be close to you. He followed you like a puppy into the kitchen, his footsteps a bit quicker than an usual. You find it cute, you chuckle softly, make that he didn’t see.

As you guys arrive at the kitchen “Glass and medicine in the box behind you”

Seungmin Immediately grabbed a glass for you and the medicine, watching you closely as he waited for you to fill the glass with water est medicine. He was desperately trying to not be apart from you.

“came here”

Seungmin was thrown off by how you suddenly spoke, telling him to come with you. He was a bit surprised that you had even asked him to come towards you, but he didn’t wait to follow your instructions. He immediately stepped forward, walking until he was right in front of you.

Seungmin looked at the glass that you held out to him for a second, before slowly taking it from you. His fingers brushed over yours briefly. And for a small moment, it felt as if it was before the last week.

But he broke out of the feeling quickly enough, and he looked at you. Waiting for you to tell him what to do next.

“Drink”

Seungmin couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation again at your short command, but he did as you said. Drinking the water in the glass that you had given him.

He could feel your eyes on him, even if you weren’t looking directly at him, and he felt a sense of.. anticipation? He didn’t know quite what to call it.

“Aren’t you tired?” You softly ruffle his hair

Seungmin felt another pang of guilt at your words. He knew that you were right. Seungmin was a little thrown off by your next question. Was he tired?..

Of course he was tired, he hadn’t gotten any decent amount of sleep for the past week. But he didn’t want to say that he was tired. He didn’t want to show any kind of weakness to you right now.

He nodded his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yeah, a little,” he mumbled, trying to not sound tired.

"You need to rest, you have been overwork yourself"

Seungmin felt another guilt hit his chest. You were right, he had been overworking himself. He felt a bit sheepish that you had noticed it, and that you were concerned about him. But he couldn’t help but feel happy that you still care about him and sad because he needs to go,if he wants to rest.

He gripped the glass even tighter, his voice a little frustrated.

“I’m fine, I can stay up.”

“Nope you need to rest , You can stay here, but you need to sleep.. I need to see with my own eyes that you rest.” you touch seungmin hair softly

Seungmin immediately grew more relaxed when you told him that he could stay there, but he grew more reluctant when you said that he needed to sleep.

He was about to protest, but all words died on his tongue when you touched his hair. It felt… reassuring. Comforting almost.

He didn’t want to sleep, as selfish as that was. But he slowly relented, knowing that he couldn’t argue with you anymore.

“Okay,” he mumbled weakly.

“Promise”

Seungmin felt another pang of guilt and worry as you demanded that he promise you. He didn’t know if he could promise to sleep, but he knew that hat he didn t want to disappoint you right now.

He gave a reluctant nod, his expression a bit sheepish as he spoke. “I promise.” After a minute goes by silent from both of you

“You want to touch me” You ask seungmin

Seungmin felt another flood of nervous and awkward energy as you questioned him directly. He hadn’t expected that kind of question, but the answer was an obvious yes. He did want to touch you, he wanted to be close to you.

He felt sheepishness as he answered quietly, his voice small but firm. “Yes… I do.”

Seungmin was trying to avold your gaze as he answered, trying to keep his voice steady and firm. He felt a mixture of nervousness, but there was a hint of desire in his voice too.

He was quiet for a few moments afterwards, unsure what else to say or do. He just wanted to be close to you, to touch you.

“Hmm okay.. hug me then ”

Seungmin felt his heart skip a beat as you requested a hug. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, he immediately wrapped his arms around you. Pulling you into a tight, warm embrace.

He held you close, burying his face into your shoulder as he spoke with a soft, sincere voice.

“I’m really sorry,” he mumbled quietly. His eyes closing as he held onto you tight. You rub his back softly

Seungmin felt a mix of emotions as he held you in his arms, feeling both relieved and guilty. He was relieved that you were so understanding and forgiving, but also guilty that he had caused any pain in the first place.

He tightened his grip on you slightly, mumbling into your shoulder, his voice quiet and sincere.

“I don’t want to hurt you, I just… get stupid sometimes,” he mumbled sheepishly, feeling vulnerable in this moment.

“Me too. Sorry for keep craving your attention too much” You apologise

Seungmin felt a pang of sympathy as you apologised for craving his attention too much. He knew that it was his fault that you had felt the need to do that, and he felt guilty about it.

He pulled back a little, looking at you gently as he spoke, his voice soft.

“No, you don’t have to apologise for that. It’s my fault that I made you feel like you needed to do that. I promise I’ll give you more attention from now on.” He assured you.

“Hmmm, love, do I smelled bad? I didn’t shower yet today because I feel too cold” You tried to get away from the topic.

Seungmin felt concern for you as you asked him if you smelled bad. He could tell that you had been feeling cold and hadn’t showered yet today, and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable and clean.

He spoke in a soft tone, his voice full of care. “No, you don’t smell bad, but if you’re feeling cold, a hot shower might make you feel better. Do you want me to help you get ready?”

“Yes please” You nodded enthusiasm

Seungmin felt a wave of relief as you finally agreed to let him take care of you. He knew that you were stubborn and independent, but he was glad that you were letting your guard down a little, allowing him to pamper you. He smiled warmly, his arms still gently holding you.

“Good. Now, let me help you into the shower, alright? You’ll feel so much better after a warm shower.”

Seungmin carefully led you to the bathroom, his hand steady on your back. He made sure you were stable on your feet before starting the shower, adjusting the water temperature to be comfortably warm.

He turned to you, his voice gentle. “yn/ do you need any help undressing, or do you think you can manage?”

“Help me, but seungmin I’m cold” you shivering,

Seungmin felt sympathy as you mentioned that you were cold. He knew that you were feeling particularly cold and vulnerable, and he wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

He immediately stepped closer to you, his hands gently reaching for the hem of your clothes, careful not to touch your skin too soon.

“It’s okay, I’l help you. Just hold onto me, okay? I’ll warm you up soon.”

Seungmin slowly helped you out of your clothes, being gentle and patient.

He could see the shivers shaking your body and the goosebumps rising on your skin. He wished he could wrap you in a warm blanket right away, but he knew that first, he had to get you into the warm shower.

Once you were undressed, he carefully guided you to the shower and under the warm spray of water.

“I know it’s cold, but it’ll get better soon, I promise, Just give it a few more moments, okay? Let the water warm you up.” Seungmin tried to convince you

When you see he step away from the shower “You don’t want to join me” you ask him

Seungmin surprise at your suggestion, his cheeks flushing slightly. He hadn’t expected you to ask him to join you in the shower, but he couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting.

He fidgeted for a moment, a mixture of shyness and anticipation in his eyes.

“If you want or am I too much” You think you embarrassed yourself

Seungmin shook his head, a small smile on his lips. He found your question endearing, the way you asked if you were being too much.

He stepped closer to the shower, his voice calm and gentle.“No, you’re not too much. I’ll join you. If you don’t mind.”

“Come” You pull him

Seungmin felt a mix of excitement and shyness as you invited him to join you in the shower. He took a deep breath. Willing himself to not get too flustered

He stepped towards the shower, carefully stepping under the warm spray of water next to you. Seungmin stood in the shower next to you, the warm water cascading over both your bodies. He couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious, a blush rising to his cheeks as he tried not to stare at you too obviously.

He spoke in a soft tone, his hands gently touching your arms.“Is the water better now? Warmer?” You nodded

He continued washing you, his hands carefully and gently moving over your skin. He spoke again, a hint of affection in his voice. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

Seungmin continued to gently lather the shower gel onto your body, his hands moving slowly and tenderly over your skin. He enjoyed the feeling of your soft, warm skin under his fingertips.

As he washed your body, he noticed that despite his efforts to stay focused, he was having a hard time concentrating, his mind wandering to less innocent thoughts.

“Oh, isn’t this your body shower? Did you leave it?” you ask

He replied gently, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “No, love. That’s yours. I have a different one. I wouldn’t want my scent to take over yours.”

“But how did you know we have different body shower” Seungmin smiled as you asked how he knew they had different body showers

He replied gently, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Well, for one, I’m familiar with my own scent. And secondly, I know you prefer the floral ones, while I lean towards the musky ones. You’ve told me before.”

“Oh really “ Seungmin chuckled again, finding your confusion endearing. He continued washing you, his hands carefully and gently moving over

"Y/n, I want to ask, did you recently into my group?” He ask while massage your scalp, you surprise at the attention, you thought that you being secretly about that.” Oh you caught me?”

“It wasn’t difficult to guess, love. I could sense the change in your demeanour, the way you talked about my group with a sparkle in your eyes. Plus, I know you’ve been watching our performances and content lately. So, who’s your new favourite member, love? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“I don’t want to tell you” you giggles, Seungmin feigned hurt, pretending to clutch his heart in mock despair. He spoke in an exaggerated woeful tone, his voice filled with overly dramatic sadness.

“What? Why won’t you tell me, love? I thought we had no secrets between us. Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Come on, don’t leave me in the dark. I Just want to know, who’s the lucky member who won your heart?”

“Can you promise that you will not stop me from admire him” you look up at him

Seungmin raised an eyebrow in curiosity, a small smile on his lips. He was still trying to guess who your new favourite member is, and he wanted to know why you needed such a promise from him.

He spoke gently, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of possessiveness.

“Sure, I promise I won’t stop you from admiring whoever it is. You have my word. But I’m curious… why do you need me to promise you that, love?”

He spoke in a soft, affectionate voice, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

"Because of your possessive and jealousy "

Seungmin couldn’t deny the truth in your words. He did have a possessive and jealous streak, and he knew you were aware of it. He chuckled softly, his expression sheepish, yet genuine.

“You got me there. I can’t deny my tendencies to be possessive and jealous, especially when it comes to you. But I promise you, I’ll try to keep it under control. Your admiration is your own, and I’ll respect that. Now, please tell me who your new favorite member is. You’re making me squirm in suspense here.”

smiling while pointing at him "You"

Seungmin’s eyes widened in surprise, a soft gasp escaping his lips. He hadn’t expected you to say that your favorite member was him. He felt a mixed rush of emotions—shock, happiness, and a hint of possessiveness.

“Me? Are you serious? I’m your favorite member now? Are you sure you’re not just teasing me, love?”

You nodded,Seungmin’s heart skipped a beat at your affirmation. The possessive streak in him felt satisfied, knowing that he had won your favouritism. At the same time, he was still in disbelief.

He spoke in a soft, affectionate voice, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

“You really mean it? You really see me as your favorite member now? I don’t know what to say… I’m honored and flattered, but I also can’t help feeling a bit… possessive. You’re mine now, you know that, right?”

"I know that" You smile.. you hold his neck and whisper "I’m cold let’s get out"

Seungmin chuckled softly as you held his neck, whispering to him that you were cold and wanted to get out. He found your clinginess endearing, and the possessiveness in him stirred again as he felt your touch and heard your words.

He spoke in a warm, playfully authoritative tone, his voice filled with affection and a hint of possessiveness.

“Ah, I see you’re feeling cold again. You’re always in need of my warmth, aren’t you, love? Let’s get out, then. Can’t have you freezing on me.”

He started walking with you in his arms, heading towards the exit. His protective instincts kicked in as he held you snugly against him, making sure to keep you warm and shielded from the cold.

As he walked, he whispered in your ear, his voice filled with a mix of affection and possessiveness.

“You’re safe now, love. I’ve got you. Nobody else can make you feel warm like I can. You’re mine and mine alone. Just lean on me.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling away reluctantly. He was loathe to leave your side, even for a moment, but he knew he needed to find something to wear.

He spoke in a playful yet reassuring tone, his voice filled with a hint of mock drama.

“Don’t miss me too much now. I’ll be right back, love. I promise I won’t be long. Just wait for me, okay?”

With that, he reluctantly released his grip on you and began searching for some clothes nearby. His eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for anything that could serve as suitable attire for the night. You look at him with so much love

“Found some suitable clothes for the night, love. Don’t worry, I made sure to avoid any bras in there, just like you requested. Easy access, as you said.”

He closed the drawer, holding the clothes in his hand, and walked back towards you, a small smirk on his face. “how about you? Your clothes in the third drawer” he knows, the third drawer is specifically for him

He smirked and spoke in a soft, yet possessive tone, his voice filled with a hint of anticipation. “i know that and got my clothes for the night, love. Just the way you wanted, eh?”

He closed the distance between you and him, standing before you with a mix of playfulness and possessiveness in his eyes.

“Ready to get back into bed, love? I’ve got my clothes now, and I’m all warmed up thanks to you. Let’s get cozy and snuggle up close, like we always do.”

“Yes please” you pull him to you, Seungmin smiled affectionately at your eagerness to snuggle up with him

He loved how you always welcomed his closeness, and it made him feel even closer to you.

“Of course, love. Let’s get back into bed now. I want to hold you close and feel your warmth against me. Let’s get cozy and warm together.”

He held your hand gently, leading you back towards the bed. He climbed into the bed and patted the space next to him, signaling for you to come join him.

As you snuggled up next to him, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and cuddling you close to his bare chest. He spoke in a soft, affectionate tone, his voice filled with a hint of contentment and possessiveness.

“There we go. Much better. I have you in my arms again, where you belong. I love holding you like this, love.”

He gently nuzzled his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent and feeling a sense of comfort and famillarity.

“You smell amazing, love. I could just stay like this forever, holding you in my arms and breathing you in. You’re so warm and soft against me. I could never get enough of this.”

“I use your hair essential oil” as you snuggle closer to him

Seungmin smiled, recognizing the scent of his favorite hair essential oil still lingering on you. He chuckled softly and spoke in a soft, appreciative tone, his voice filled with affection.

“Ah, you’re using my favorite hair essential oil again, huh? That’s why you smell so amazing. It’s like you’re wrapped in my scent, even when I’m not around. I love it.”

He snuggled closer to you, nuzzling his face against your neck and taking in a deep breath of your scent.

“You know, I could recognize your scent from miles away. It’s so unique and special to me. I’ll never get tired of it, especially when it’s mixed with my favorite scent.”

He began to gently trail kisses along your neck, his lips caressing your skin with tenderness and affection.

“I could lose myself in your scent, love. It’s like a drug to me, addictive and intoxicating. And when you smelli like my favorite essential oil, it just makes it even harder to resist you.”

“It’s tickle love” Seungmin realized your neck was ticklish from his kisses and started to chuckle softly.

He spoke in a playful tone, his voice filled with mild amusement.

“Ah, are you ticklish here, love? I didn’t mean to tickle you. But it’s cute, you know, how sensitive your neck is to my kisses.”

He continued peppering soft, light kisses along your neck, his lips gently brushing against your skin, taking care not to tickle you too much.

“I’ll be more careful, love. I don’t want to make you too ticklish. But I just can’t resist kissing your neck, it’s so inviting and sensitive.”

He planted a lingering kiss on your neck, his lips lingering on your skin for a few moments, before pulling away ever so slightly.

“You know, I could never tire of kissing your neck, love. It’s like a canvas, a canvas just waiting for me to mark and claim.” He spoke in a soft, yet possessive tone, his voice filled with a hint of possessiveness and desire.

“I want to leave my mark on your neck, love. I want to claim you as mine, and make it abundantly clear that you belong to me and me only.” He continue

“Do it” Seungmin chuckled at your insistence for him to leave his mark on your neck, his possessive side stirring again. He spoke in a soft, yet authoritative tone, his voice filled with a hint of playfulness.

“Oh, you want me to do it, love? You really want me to mark you as my own, huh? Well, who am I to refuse a request like that?”

He gently tilted your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck. He began to gentiy kiss and nibble on your skin, his lips moving along your neck in a slow, deliberate manner.

As he marked your neck, he spoke between kisses, his voice filled with possessiveness and desire.

“You’re mine, love. Remember that. This mark on your neck is proof of that. You belong to me and me only.”

“I know” You smile widely

Seungmin smiled as you acknowledged your belonging to him, the possessive side of him greatly enjoying your affirmation.

He continued marking your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin, his lips gently sucking and biting, leaving a trail of hickeys along your neck.

As he marked you, he spoke in a soft, yet authoritative tone, his voice filled with a hint of possessiveness and ownership.

“That’s right, love. Remember that you belong to me. Your body, your mind, your heart – they are all mine. No one else has the right to touch you like this.”

“ I love you seungmin, love you sooo much” you pull his face softly, and kiss his lip..” let’s sleep okey” seungmin chuckle.. “love you too, y/n. Let’s sleep “ seungmin kiss your forehead

As the minutes ticked by, seungmin could feel his own eyelids growing heavier, the combination of exhaustion and the soothing rhythm of your breaths making it increasingly difficult to stay awake. But still, he refused to let himself fully slip into sleep, his possessive nature adamant that he remain vigilant and protect you, even in your most vulnerable state.

And seungmin finally drift off sleep, It took some time, but eventually, exhaustion overcame Seungmin, and he surrendered to the pull of sleep. His grip on you loosened ever so slightly, his arms still encircling you protectively, even in his rest.

His face relaxed, the tension draining away as he slumbered, the lines on his forehead softening and his expression growing peaceful.

In his sleep, he instinctively pulled you closer to him, his subconscious seeking your warmth and presence, even in his state of unconsciousness.

He subconsciously nuzzled his face against your hair, his breath warm on your skin.

The steady rhythm of his breathing filled the room, the sound of his soft, even breaths creating a soothing white noise. Every now and then, he would make a soft, content sound in his sleep, as if dreaming pleasantiy, his body completely relaxed and at ease as he held you close.

The hours ticked by, and still, Seungmin slept on, his hold on you

The room was quiet save for the sound of his soft breathing, a comforting rhythm that filled the space. The tranquility was only broken by the occasional shift or murmur from Seungmin, as he snuggled even closer to

You in his sleep. His arms unconsciously tightening around you.

What do you think guys, this one really take me for days to complete it.

Sorry for wrong title in poster.. i put the wrong one and can't change it.. so yeay..

Want to read more you can go to my MASTERLIST

If you have any idea, tell me

[noxturnalmoth]

Repentance

Summary: Repentance: n. the action of repenting, sincere regret or remorse.

Hurt, overworking and miserable, two souls find one another and fates intertwine even when they are worlds apart. How can one deal with the guilt of wanting something they cannot have? And why does going against the very principles you have imposed upon yourself feel so good?

Warnings: violence, crude language, themes of guilt, suicidal ideation, depression

Word Count: 6, 501

Masterlist: here

Chapter 2 - The House that Janna Built

Your body feels light, weightless in the dark red tinted abyss. You don't feel anything but complete utter oblivion, pure nothingness. Yet slowly, feeling comes back to you. You r skin burns, your lungs and throat as well. And from a foggy red, the world shifts to bright orange. Smoke fills your lungs, tears eat through the blood caking your face like the waves licking away at footsteps in the sand of the shores of Ionia. You taste metal, and you feel nothing but seering hot pain.

"It's okay, kiddo. I'm getting you out of here." A low voice belonging to a woman softly calls out to you as you are lifted in what seems to be their arms.

Kha nas xera.

I hate them.

Kha anas xera.

I hate it.

Kha nas-ren xera.

I hate this pain.

An-kha ana-yafeal qufa.

Make it stop.

Ni'i samahta.

Please.

Then the sounds rush in. But within the loud chaos, you cannot scream and beg for them to stop.

____

"Fuck!"

You wake up with a start, back firing up waves of pain through your body as you sit up straight, hand finding your phone to snooze the alarm.

Sunday.

Yesterday you did nothing but stay in bed, stewing some more over your friends' words. And although every fiber in your body protested, although every part of your soul hissed at you not to, you were getting up to go to church.

"If not for yourself, do it for us."

It's all that was repeated your mind on Saturday while you forced yourself to come to terms with the fact that you needed to try. You had to. For Sevika and Violet, you needed to get better.

Because no matter what they said, you feared they'd leave you before you're fully swallowed within your personal hell. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to hate them for it, it'd be deserved after they dealt with the burden of your existence within theirs for so long. The thought of disappointing them, hurting them and them leaving you for your own incompetence at saving yourself were driving forces for you, albeit waning since some time.

Kha anas xera.

I hate it.

Kha alalha xera.

I hate the gods.

Kha Jan'ahremas xera.

I hate Jan'ahrem.

"If not for yourself, do it for us."

So you do.

You push yourself from your mattress, the sheets stained in your nightly cold sweat before you take them from the bed, limping your way to the bathroom for a shower and throwing the filthy sheets in the washing machine.

The shower is hot, long in duration to relax your tense muscles and wash away the last of your nightmare before you resign yourself to leave it, unwilling to let your water bill climb higher than it already is.

You rummage in your closet for something "church-like". Unlike other cults from topside, Jan'ahremite beliefs didn't impose modesty in the same way, nor for the same reasons. Your people hail from Shurima where the deserts are so warm that wearing too much would make you die from overheating yet the nights would be as cold as the Freljord.

You remember your parents always owning shawls for when they'd pray, covering head, shoulders and parts of their chest when they talk to Janna. The Blue Bird. The Storm's fury. The Winds. Or whatever the believers would call her.

Not that it matters to you.

Your clothes are the classic Zaunite style, albeit better due to the blooming economy, of leather jackets, harnesses, simple shirts and cargo pants. Yet a skirt holds your attention, something more formal than your usual attire, yet still holding slits on both sides for ease of movement.

You groan as you pick it up, remembering the birthday Vi had gifted you the piece. Giggling when looking at your face as Caitlyn explained how it'd fit you.

"You would turn heads like this, Maestro."

"I don't want to." You had answered. "Love isn't the first, or second, or third thing on my list."

"It could do you good."

"Thanks, but I'll pass, Caitlyn. I'm grateful for the gift."

The skirt slides on with a shirt, buckles of harnesses are fastened and your corset is back around your middle, holding your back up as you adjust how it looks with the rest of what you put on. Your boots soon follow, a shawl put over your head and wrapped around your arms and shoulders before you take your phone and head outside.

Music blasts in your ears as you walk, walking towards the looming stone building. Carved in the material that so many Zaunites died for in the fissures. Figures, arches and columns filling the walls with intricate traditional designs you've grown accustomed to seeing in the books of the section you overlook at the library you work at.

Funny for someone as stuck in the past as you to hold archaeology so dear. Ironic too, for all the rituals and religions you've dived in you still hated the mere thought of believing and practicing.

Which made approaching the church all the more grueling. Not only are you about to step a food in a god's "home", but also bring your cynical atheism in a place of worship. It feels bitter, just because of your utter hatred for the one thing thos people believe in. To disturb those seeking comfort in the embrace of faith although you're doing a similar thing.

"Welcome to the Windswept Church of Jan'ahrem."

A voice calls out, a man maybe not much older than you greets and you see him step back at your stare, the ever present glare probably fueled with so much of your inner turmoil that he knew better than to remain close though his face stays gentle. His hair is long, pulled back in a ponytail, brown streaked with some blonde and his eyes a limpid blue. "We hope you find what you're searching for."

I doubt I will.

You nearly say, but hold your tongue as you step through the stone arch, passing mahogany doors to enter the large vaulted chapel.

Columns hold the ceiling, reaching towards the heavens with dark brown stone pillars. The walls are filled with grandiose stained glass sceneries depicting the history of Zaun. Beginning from the great Shuriman Empire, followed by its fall, sailors following the Blue Bird, Shuriman immigrants stepping foot on the shores of Kha'Zhun, the beginning of Osha Va'Zaun, its evolution, and the ever present goddess Janna protecting and watching over it.

You scoff.

For all its beauty, the church was still a place of belief for a god that had abandoned its own people, and it made you sick.

So you turn your head to the center of the room, pews lining both sides of the nave, creating a path towards the dark green draped dais and altar which are overlooked by the most beautiful representation of Janna you've ever seen. You step forward, the brilliant blue carpet softening each of your movements while the morning light bounces from the intricately tiled floor, stone lace shining with beautiful colors while you're pulled ahead.

The deity is represented floating in the air, her clothes and hair fluttering in the wind she summons, your people reaching out to her and grabbing her legs as they pray for mercy and salvation. The pedestal looking like grass and sand gently moving around them all, shifting with the gale.

What good is such artistry if it's made for someone who will never listen?

Once more you hold your tongue, the magnificence of the place dissolved by the bile climbing at your throat as you sit down in the far right of the pews, wanting anything but to be perceived while you take your earphones off.

Silence accompanied by the small talk of church goers, then their steps as they move to sit. Luckily no one comes close to you and some of the tension leaves your body.

"If not for yourself, do it for us."

I'm trying.

Yet all you want is to get up and leave, get back to the comfort of your own home and sleep the day away. But that would be the easy way out, no sleep would come to you anyways and way too much attention would suddenly be directed towards you in such a moment. So you stay.

Moments pass, you grow more restless at the wait as people trickle in, someone sitting on the same pew as you and making you regret the decision of getting up and not rotting in your brain. A cordial nod is extend your way and you extend the same respect, noting that the greeter is the man now sitting next to you before quickly looking back to the front, hoping that mass would start soon so you could get on with it then leave.

"I've never seen you here before, did you come to find guidance from Jan'ahrem?"

An-kha ana-yafeal qufa.

Make it stop.

"Something like that."

"Welcome to our community then, we hope you find what you seek. You'll see that we're close knit, I can even extend to you an invitation for our meetups!"

You hum, nails softly clawing at the pew as anxiety bubbles within you at the sudden attention, people from other pews looking at you now.

Kha kha-anas'yatahadatha qufa.

Stop talking to me.

"I'm Huck, by the way. Nice to meet you."

You softly offer your name to him and he smiles, pulling one of your hands in a handshake that had your skin crawling at the sincere kindness the man is showing you.

This is too much, I need to lea-

Everybody stands and your hand falls back to the wooden bench as Huck drops it, following along with his peers. You stand too, pain shooting from your back and branching to your entire body at the sudden movement. Yet you trail your eyes to the front of the nave, to what everyone was so reverent towards.

A man was walking to the altar with a cane in hand. Cassock tinted almost black, a tinge of something else mixed within the fabric, brown hair long and falling to his shoulders.

The priest.

"Greeting my friends. I hope life has treated you fairly since last Sunday."

His voice is accented in a familiar way, certain communities from from the Entresol holding a strong Va'Nox tint to their speech. And while he may have not been talking loudly, the man's voice was projected in the vaulted room, almost ethereal in quality as it commands attention.

"We all know of the darkness within our souls. The one that drags you down a spiral so profound that you lose yourself in a labyrinth of self-hatred, doubt and pain. Yet we know, we believe, deep down that this is not all that we are. We are more powerful than our demons, and Jan'ahrem, our shepherd, guides us to light with her breeze. The soft, cool of her touch on our broken selves heals us. Like wind brushing footsteps from the shifting sands. Let us begin to praise her for her love and kindness towards our people, her determination fueling us. Making us stronger with each day that passes under her protection."

Everyone sits again, your body hitting the pew with a soft thud and a sigh as you're hidden by the veiled backs of the churchgoers again.

What a load of bullshit.

You nearly scoff as everyone begins chanting, the priest's voice somehow always stronger. Never wavering once in his praise of the goddess watching over him. It's low, yet breathy, the accent rolling his R's, pushing his consonants and sighing his H's.

And it's unbearably beautiful.

For all you have against the church, you can't say that you despise this part like you do the rest. The lyrics make you feel sick, yet the man's voice is warm, welcoming, playing the part of the guide he is supposed to be even to someone as empty and destitute as you.

Next to you, Huck sings along. Face bright and filled with hope while you feel like decomposing in place. You know of myths where sinners burn in places of worship and for all it's worth, you feel like it's about to happen to you. Bubbling with rage as you glare at Janna's statue, looking to you almost mockingly when she's supposed to be kind, gentle, a guiding gale to those from Zaun. And with disgust at yourself, feeling undeserving of being next to believers while you silently hate their god, wishing nothing more than to melt in the pew and disappear.

You're even more lost in this crowd than you've been in years, you feel profoundly alone even when you're supposed to feel surrounded. They're all singing in Valorian, as opposed to your parents who used to pray in Shuriman. The lyrics to every chant escaping you and fusing your lips together like a hot knife cauterizing a wound.

You wouldn't have sung along anyway.

But a little bit of familiarity wouldn't hurt when you're like a fish out of the water, ready to be chopped at the fishmonger's stall.

The believers sit and the priest's soft voice grows lower as he speaks, the breathy quality of his voice still very present yet much more subdued as he preaches.

"May the gales guide us to a better place. We have already achieved so much, brothers, sisters. And our sails are leading us to a brighter future. It may get hard, but we're headed the right way, I can feel it and I know all of you do too. Janna has granted us her will so we could move forward even when life gets grueling, cruel and miserable. She is the way, she is the mother of our nation who brought us to this safe haven. And although we've had to fight for it tooth and nail, we're finally headed towards the vision she had of Zaun. A free, thriving and steadfast community."

Huck sometimes slides his gaze to you, a small gentle smile on his lips to coax you out of your shell. Yet all it does is make you more uncomfortable, feeling all too undeserving of the gentleness he treats you with, your skin feeling too tight on your muscles. Like old wallpaper falling off, cracking due to humidity and age.

So you spend however much time, sat even when believer stand to sing, fidgeting with your hands when they sit back down.

Then, one by one people start to get up, making a queue to the dais where the priest was now standing.

"Come, it's custom to receive the ichor. Just follow me, you'll know what to do there."

Huck extends his hand towards you and your aching back thanks him as you nod, letting him help you up and pull you to the end of the line. The wait is somewhat uncomfortable, standing while people consume the Jan'ahrem's "blood" and bless themselves with incense.

You knew of the blood and spirit from old tales your parents told you as a child, which eventually appeared before you once more with the books you read at the library. Your second job offering much downtime, to your relief, which meant many hours by yourself, reading and cataloging books on archaeology and rituals.

As the line dwindles you realize that albeit you know of the old practices, you know nothing of the new ones. Anxiety once more bubbling within the depths of your stomach.

Am I going to make a fool of myself?

No, people trickle out once this is done.

But then again..

While people trickle out after this last part of the mass, you would be left still making a fool of yourself in front of Father "what's his face". So you discreetly try to observe from behind Huck.

People kneel, which already makes you groan at the pain you'll be in after such an action. Then they bring their hands up, quite probably in the usual prayer motion.

Arms positioned horizontally, palms against one another while the middle and ring fingers are placed on the inner wrists of the other arm.

A gesture predating even the fall of the Shuriman Empire.

You can't see the rest, only able to complete the ritual in your head with the old practices. The believer would open their mouths and the priest would dip his thumb in the ichor concoction from his chalice, marking the tongue with its blood red tint, before the believer would go on to get the blessing of the spirit. A simple action of taking two sticks of incense upside down between two crossed fingers, the index and the middle, moving them around you so the smoke moves around the believer like a soft breeze. Ending the movement by placing the sticks right side up in the sensor and dipping one's thumb in the ashes filling it, blowing the remnants like the gale of the Blue Bird blew the sails of your ancestors.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realize it's your turn, Huck already getting to the incense as you stand before the priest face to face.

From up close you can see the intricacies of his cassock much better. Cinched at the waist with a bright blue fabric belt, the same color as the rosary decorating his chest and neck,his robes catching light in what you could now notice is the color of your people. The Zaunite color representing your nation, a dark forest green that looked nearly velvety on the cloth of the man standing before you. His hair was not just brown, no, it was graying in streaks from under the soft, wavy curls adorning his head like a halo. Around his neck was a copper colored stole, embroidered with the organic shapes your people have always used, showing life even within the most unwelcoming territories. From the desert to the fissures. He looked young, near your age, face gaunt and cheekbones high, his pale skin dotted with two moles. One on his upper left lip and one on his right cheekbone, right under the outer side of his eye.

Amber.

The familiar color of many a Zaunite's eyes, the color attributed to the heat of your homeland, was also his. Looking nearly golden in the rays filtered through the stained glass, outer iris a kaleidoscope formed of their reflection.

"With the powers bestowed upon me, I shall bless thee with the ichor, the blood of our goddess which blessed our soils."

You kneel with difficulty and position your hands accordingly, yet the priest looks almost shocked when his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse softly. His thumb is dipped in the chalice, coming out dripping the red liquid symbolizing the ichor, and before he can move again you open your mouth. Eyes trained on his as saliva begins to build at the wait, his movements slow and nearly tense as he grips your chin and places his thumb on your warm tongue. Barely seconds pass yet it feels like an eternity as you feel his skin on yours, his digit in your mouth, his eyes observing you as if he is picking you apart and building you back up.

"With this blessing of life, of hope and of will, you shall build yourself back up. Like Osha Va'Zaun has many a time. May the Winds blow your way, my child."

His eyes widen and his body tenses once more, jaw setting and face twitching, while your lips wrap around his thumb. His gaze veiled with something unknown before you pull away.

"Kod'suhbi al ni-makhaka naa."

May the Blue Bird be with you.

You sigh while trying to push yourself up, groaning in pain before the priest's soft yet scarred hand appears in your vision, his face now gentle with a soft smile adorning his lips as he helps you up.

He is much stronger than he seems.

You nod your head in thanks, rushing to the incense so you can be done with it all. Huck already done yet waiting at the pews, calling out for you.

"I wanted to say goodbye, and to thank you for coming to mass today. I hope to see you next time!"

Tough chance.

You think, before sighing.

"If not for yourself, do it for us."

You have to come here at least twice before finally throwing in the towel and ridding yourself of the horrible presence of religion in your life. Your lips smack as you finally savor the ichor, the red liquid tart and sweet, made of fruit, yet thick and sticky in your mouth. Like blood.

Good marketing.

You nearly laugh but choose to reign your cynicism in.

"Yeah, see you next Sunday Huck." The man looks happy with your response and leaves.

"Goodbye Father Valášek."

Your ears tune out afterwards as you proceed to follow through with the spirit ritual, the smell of incense soothing the disgust you feel beneath Janna's gaze. Your eyes shifting to the altar from time to time as you feel the weight of a gaze on you, yet every time you look the priest only seems to be preoccupied with clearing away the last of the ritual.

The deity's gaze judges you as you walk back, setting yourself on a pew, back too pained after kneeling that you have to take a moment to relax before going back home. Yet your eyes are not "kind" like the goddess's, hers almost mocking you as you glare back.

Ni khe'inn.

You traitor.

You fucking traitor.

Was it funny? To live up above, safe and flowing with your meaningless winds while your people suffer, beg, plead and pray for you?

The thought nearly makes you want to puke and set the whole place on fire. Your breaths grow heavier as you try to calm down, feeling all too restless in this place of "peace", yet unable to leave just yet. It feels like every stained glass portrait, like the statue itself, are judging you.

What are you doing here, non-believer?

You should have died long ago.

You are undeserving of guidance and healing.

You monster.

You filthy, foolish, rotten girl.

"Glare at Jan'ahrem any longer and you'll set her on fire."

You startle, looking to your right where the priest is now sitting, chuckling yet his eyes full of curiosity.

"Can't say it's not what I'm trying to do."

"Oh really, now? In a holy place?"

"Holy or not, if I'm going down I'm taking her with me. And it's not a man in a dress using a cane that will be able to catch me after I'm done."

His laugh grows louder, from a low throaty chuckle to an open mouthed, breathy giggle and you raise an eyebrow at the man.

"If you hate her so much, I wonder what your story is for you to drag yourself to such a place."

Story.

You scoff.

It certainly isn't a fucking fairy tale.

"Please, don't put her on a pedestal. She's not special, I hate all of her kind."

"Wow, talk about god-hating."

"I fear I'm their biggest opp, Father Valášek." You spit out, yet your lips stretch into a smirk while a wheeze escapes him, his eyes sharpening towards you, nearly cutting you with their intensity.

"Aren't you a funny one?"

"I'm a hater, didn't say I'm also unfunny. I can only have so many flaws, priest."

Self-deprecating, self-hating, monstrous, empty, depressed, hopeless and broken beyond fixing are pretty good ones too.

"I don't find it a flaw within you."

"Wow, thank you oh-so-loving man of god. I am suddenly healed from all of my self doubts and pain, I could dance the prisyadka. Do you need a demonstration?"

"I'd pay to see that."

"And I'd pay to see you run a marathon."

Your eyes point to his cane and he scoffs, slumping backwards on the pew's backrest. He calls out your name and you turn to him with narrowed eyes before you remember he had been here when Huck wished you goodbye.

"What?"

"What brings you here?"

"What brings a pretty boy like yourself to become a priest when you could be doing cooler shit?"

He clicks his tongue with his eyes gazing back to Janna's statue, muttering "touché" to himself before looking at you again. Mischief fills his gaze.

"So you think, I'm pretty."

"Don't talk as if you didn't know, Father. And don't try me."

"I'll have you know that I vowed celibacy. We're not meant to be, fledgling."

Your eye twitches as you hold back a chuckle.

"I know, not like I'd want a fucking twink."

"Such language, within the house of a god! How preposterous."

"Yack yack."

"Great deflection skills, though."

"Thanks, I spent years honing them so men in dresses could praise me for them." And a pause rings between you two, the man smirking once more while your eyes gaze at him in defiance.

"You gotta admit though." He pauses, his lips curling up further as you wait for the end of his statement, his dark green cassock shifting like sands with the breeze under the stained glass' filtered light. The beads of his rosary seemingly shining and the copper of his stole almost glowing.

"I look damn good in it." And with that you crack.

Laughter bubbling in your throat and escaping your mouth as your body relaxes. The banter enough to alleviate some of the discomfort you feel while inside such a place, surrounded by imagery of things you'd rather die than worship. The priest joins you as "sure, whatever man" escapes you between giggles.

"Is your back alright?"

"Is yours?" You defend and the man sigh, you're torn between saying he looks like his priestly patience is waning or like he's holding back another bout of laughter. "Come on, you knew what you were getting into the second you started talking to me."

"Yeah, I did."

"You can only chastise yourself for it, now go and confess or whatever it is that believers do."

"Do you truly want me to go?"

"I don't know, do I?" And when he starts to leave you cackle at the groan he lets out before slumping back next to you. "Looks like you can't even if you wanted to leave my horrible presence."

"Oh yes, a woman with a sharp tongue, such a curse. Whatever shall I do?" He sarcastically bites back as his eyes roll.

"Careful there priest, wouldn't want you to see how empty that brain is."

His gaze snaps back to yours with an incredulous look, a hand over his heart in mock offense. Your arms drape over the back of the wooden bench as you lean your head back, a heavy chuckled breath escaping your lips before you close your eyes, the ambiance in the church less threatening and bile inducing to you after the friendly banter.

"You're funny for a priest."

"I'm a priest, didn't say I'm also unfunny. I can only have so many flaws, fledgling."

You show your middle finger to the man who softly slaps it away with a sigh of his own. "No, but you're very uncreative. Gotta step up your game, pretty boy. And I'd advise you against calling me a fledgling."

"Or what, fledgling? What will you do?"

"Or I'll really burn your Janna statue down."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Bite me." He chuckles once more.

Silence sets between the both of you, your own mind shockingly at ease in the man's presence even with his job description and your presence judged by the figures in the carved stone and gilded, tinted windows. The soft, colored rays dance behind your lids as you take a moment to breathe.

Men of the cloth were human, yet due to your own avoidance and aversion to all that is linked to faith you seem to have forgotten such a fact. The person besides you much less pedantic than you've expected him to be, even with his height, his role and his beauty. But wasn't that the nature of a priest? To guide, to love, to forgive?

It doesn't matter, he still is what he is and believes what he believes.

Says the ugly part of you, corroded by bitterness and hatred, hissing in your ears like a pit of vipers starved and ready to strike at anything and anyone, using you as a vessel for their torturous venom.

I should leave this place, I don't deserve this. I'm wasting his time. I shouldn't be here.

Says the other more pathetic part of you, friable and eroded by sadness and misery, crumbling at the thought of any change, of anything good being given to you, wailing like a pit to hell opened within your heart just to torment you.

Your eyes open to look at the vaulted ceiling, high above you and stretching towards the heavens, your right hand lifting to protect your face from the bright, tinted light of the stained glass lining every wall.

I'm doing this for Vi and Sev.

You tell yourself, when the rays begin to feel all too hot as if to burn you alive, like the filthy monster you know you are.

It's the last time I try.

Tears well up in your eyes but you hold strong, unwilling to show vulnerability in a place such as this, guarded and overlooked by a god that preferred mocking you rather than help.

Your face stings as it scrunches, a frown setting itself on your face. Doubts sprouting in your mind like flowers in spring. A spiral beginning once more within the deep, worn recesses of your mind.

Can I even be helped? For all I know I'm a lost case.

Can this place truly offer me what I need?

Questions that are not uncommon in your head. Vision blurry, you drop your arm over your face, trying to hold yourself together. You're already doing this, showing any more weakness could very well make you a puppet within the hands of fate, within the Father's grasp.

You're an empty, hopeless shell, beaten and bruised from a life of fighting tooth and nail for just a crumb of fulfillment that you've never felt. And probably would never feel. You're like Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, your own weight a burden for yourself and anyone that dares come close. The willpower you take from your rage has waned years ago, yet you push yourself, you dare to hope things could get better even if they never do.

So you work.

Day and night to not feel the ever growing emptiness within yourself, aided by your isolation and misery. Nothing ever working towards making you feel any better and your guilt taking more and more space within your life with each day that passes. The exhaustion making the abyss take a stronger hold on you yet emptying your brain for just long enough that you can feel numb instead of miserable. A need for approval always quenched yet growing hungrier as days pass, comfort rarely given. Sleep seldom reaching you unless you pass out in your bed still dressed from the day and always interrupted by nightmares that now carry onto he waking world.

You feel an unbearable amount of guilt from burdening your friends, from never feeling right, from getting worse, from wasting your life feeling the way you do, for not being fixable, for never meeting your expectations that you know are beyond unfair. From pushing everyone away, whether you want to or not, to avoid any more pain. From not trying any harder to hold your brother back that day although you know very well that in every way possible you would have lost him all the same. Guilt at the feeling of not having cherished your loved ones enough in the past and present.

Everything you own, everyone you love, slips between your fingers like sand until all that is left is the void that life has created within you. Deepening, growing larger, no matter how much you patch yourself up, no matter how much you try to fill it.

You're like a pierced vessel, your contents forever pouring out uncontrollably until all that is left is nothing. Your heart like shattered glass, cutting, dangerous, dirtied and bloodied from how much you've tried to piece it back together with your scarred hands.

And then there's Piltover, opening its borders and helping Zaun yet making everything in its confines impossible for any Zaunite to afford. Raising the bar so high that most can never hope to reach it.

The gods, especially Jan'ahrem whose home you are currently invading, never helping. Never moving a finger to help those deserving when the ones who use their powers to further their despicable agendas as getting out scot free as if blessed by the lords above.

Even when you cried and begged as a child.

Even when your people prayed to them, to her, every day.

Finding your suffering and grovelling entertaining enough to help you as you try to claw your way out of hell. Your inner thoughts scarlet and burning like the scenery of the bridge you lost the last of yourself in. At least the last part holding any hope for yourself and the world you live in.

Kha h'asiras yakuna.

I am tired.

Your sleeve absorbs the tears escaping your eyes like a sudden downpour, leaving the dam of your eyelids no matter how hard you shut them. Sobs bubbling from within you swiftly locked away deep within the recesses of yourself that you've locked away to everyone, even yourself.

I need to be stronger, I need to hold out. But I can't anymore.

And you think of it more and more as time passes, your fight leaving you and only the young, scared girl that you try so hard not to be remains.

I need to be stronger.

Your nails scratch against woods, all sounds drowned within the cacophony of your mind, the hissing vipers and wailing spirits growing louder as time passes.

I'm tired of making it by the skin of my teeth.

I'm tired of pouring from an empty cup that I don't even own anymore.

I'm tired of being tired.

I'm tired of trying so hard only for nothing to work.

Something resounds within the impossible noise in your heart, yet it's hard to discern it from the rest. Probably another demon, rising from hell to torment you. Your hand grips the wood tighter as you try to keep your breathing constant in its depth and cadence.

I can't be weak.

I can't show it all.

It's ugly, it's monstrous and rotten. An all consuming darkness that taints all I touch, all those I meet. Marking them with the curse of my existence within theirs.

No one deserves to see. To hear. To feel just how pathetic I am.

Even less them.

Your teeth grit at the thought of the statue observing your distressed state with glee, at the priest next to you, at anyone that could pass by you at this instant. Your nails carving harder into the pew, pain piercing your fingertips before you ball your fist and hit the wood.

The new sound echoes once more, louder this time, yet still ignored. Your jaw setting at the inner turmoil, the searing pain flowing from your heart and through every cell in your body, hot and cold, fire and ice, the sands of Shurima and the Freljord's everlasting tundra.

I am undeserving of patience and care.

No one should have to be there for me, of all people.

You taste blood from within your mouth, the church's calm atmosphere after your banter with the priest long forgotten as your rage bubbles once more, this time pointed like war pikes towards yourself.

But from the prison of your mind, through worn and tight shackles, you feel hand touches your shoulder and your arm leaves your face, grabbing whoever touched you in a bruising grip. Your eyes glare at the man, his concerned face coming into view before a wince escapes him, your hand leaving him as if you have been burned. Your body sliding as far away from Father Valášek's as possible.

"What?"

"Are you okay? You've been like this for the past twenty or so minutes."

His eyes, always kind trail over your face before you turn it away from him. Refusing to show vulnerability as you wipe away at the remnants of tears left beneath your eyes.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Stop deflecting."

"What can I say? It's my strongest attribute, so I use it."

"I actually very much would like to know." He gently calls out from behind you, his accented voice softly pulling you away from your thoughts. "I am here to help, not to harm. Whatever you have against Janna or anyone else cannot apply to me. It's my life's work to simply open my eyes, my ears, my heart and my arms to those who need it."

Silence rings once more as you shuffle around, turning back to the priest with tired eyes, stinging from tears yet to be shed. Tears that would not escape you this time.

"I don't want any bullshit about gods, gospel or fucking whatever you do with believers."

"I can't promise anything, it is in my job description after all." He jokes, a welcoming smile stretching on his lips and you sigh, air escaping you as if getting away from you is all it could ever dream of.

"If your only advice is to tell me to turn to religion, I really will beat you with your cane."

"And I'd like to see you try, although you do have a strong grip I'll give you that." He flexes his left hand, wincing at the remnants of pain you have caused and your eyes trail to his. Gazing with restraint into the pools of celestial gold.

"Friends told me to come here because I'm lost." He hums. "This is my last resort." He nods along to your words, time passing as he takes in your words before he speaks again.

"Tell me, only if you wish, what are you seeking here? What do you want me to provide?" His hair brown hair catches the light in a way that makes him look as if he hailed from Mount Targon, the grey strands nearly looking like Lunarian silver. His patience and kindness nearly making your skin crawl and your throat burn with bile in self-disgust.

You claw at the pews once more, your eyes trailed on your left hand where your fingernails were broken and slightly bloodied from your previous ministrations. Then your eyes return to Father Valášek's with resignation tinting their depths, the look making the priest's eyebrows furrow in worry.

"Something worth living for. Something that can fix me. Because as it is? I'd rather die than go through another day."

And silence rings loud through the chapel.

prev || m.list || next

Viktor Masterlist: here

Arcane Masterlist: here

Navigation: here

[nownahc]

3 with Lee Know pls!! 🥺🥺

shame | lee know

lee know x reader

main masterlist

prompts list send in an ask to request

▶• ılıılıılılıılıılı. i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

notes. super short drabble I'm sorry, I just instantly thought of this when I read the prompt, and I couldn't get my mind off of this idea...

warnings. ANGST

prompts. “I’m not jealous.”

It had been years now. Years seen he saw your face, heard your voice, smell your perfume, waited for your texts, talked to you. Still, it also has been years since he's been thinking of you non stop. Of what happened, and could have happened. So, when his best friend tells him he saw you earlier in a random shop, it feels like another stab in the heart. The painful reminder that you disapeared from his life, but you're still living in others.

He doesn't ask if you're okay or, what you looked like for he doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know that you might have not been thinking about him daily like he does. Doesn't want to know if you're happy, otherwise guilt would eat at him for being miserable. Doesn't want to know if you found someone you could love back, otherwise shame would devour him for still not knowing how to be that person. It's not like he hadn't tried back then, to be that person, and you had tried too, to love him back. The heart doesn't choose though, and as painful as it was, you had chosen to let him go entirely. At the time, both of you had thought of this to be the best thing to do, he could forget about entirely, and you didn't have to live with the guilt of not reciprocating his feelings. Yet, it didn't help, not one bit, and he didn't want to know if you stopped feeling guilty. As selfish as it was, he liked to imagine that, by being distant, a stranger again in his life, you'd find him for the second time in his life, and this time your feelings would match his.

This same friend though, tells him about your new significant other concerned about his state of mind, Minho feel numb. He felt jealous, jealous of his friend, of the people who can live their days knowing you're in their life, jealous of his past self before his confession, jealous of his future self who he wishes finally moved on. Right now though, he has to live in this constant sadness, melanchily of knowing something dear to him slipped between his fingers.

So when his friend ask him how he's taking the news, Minho's answer matches a question his friend hadn't even asked. Perhaps, he was reassuring himself instead.

“I’m not jealous.”

[astral-circuitry]

id: post reply by @escarlatafox that says "I Need context omg" /end id

okay so it must have been late 2018 or early 2019 aka the height of TMA fandom while the podcast was still running because of fucking course this is about Tee Em Ay.

I was incredibly cranky and just downright miserable because I'd just had an appointment with the Gender Psychologist in Zurich I was seeing so I could get approved for top surgery and referred to a surgeon which, beside the fact this meant I had to drive the train back home from Fucking Zurich (we all know Zurich sucks), also meant I'd just spent an hour with the lady who had implied that before I could get approved for surgery I'd have to convince her that this was The Appropriate Procedure for my Specific Gender, when my whole gender deal is [vague hand gesture] [a sharp burst of static] [a void so deep nobody's looking back], which didn't make her happy bc it meant I couldn't Explain my gender to her.

So while I was freaking out about that in One discord chat with a friend while sitting on the train, I was also distracting myself from all that by talking to Merlin about our experiences reading TMA fic. And we, both ace, thought it was kinda a shame when E-rated fics had the tag "Canon Asexual Character" only to then neither deal with nor even mention in passing that John actually Is ace while he's getting railed by Martin or whatever.

I lied in my OP - I didn't write one (1) tweet about being annoyed about that, it was two or three. And granted, I didn't make extra sure to word my annoyance delicately, mainly because I was a) feeling cranky and miserable, as established, and b) I was tweeting all this to an audience of genuinely like 28 people.

Well! A TMA fic writer with a couple hundred followers and a partner who was a Fandom Big Name saw that and felt vagued I guess, took a screenshot of my tweets and posted it while whining about my opinion and how this could Only be about them and anyway, it's fine because an ace friend of theirs said--

This was the start of Ace Discourse in the fandom. People @-ed me and sent me msgs on Tumblr and anyway, won't anybody think of the poor aces who DO fuck (which, I unfortunately was too overwhelmed at the time to reply with something like "this was never the point, I KNOW there's aces who fuck, I AM ace and will have you know I'm very good at eating pussy)--

Anyway. A few days later above-mentioned author started tagging their shit on ao3 with "Ace Subtype: Kinky Ace" or w/e, and people jumped on that bandwagon.

I don't know if this is still being done because to this day TMA remains the only fandom I've completely turned my back on due to its fanbase (and the fact that the last two seasons were dogshit imo (and also I have one-sided beef with Jonny these days because he said something stupid about the Fermi Paradox that one time, but I do recognize that this is beside the point and also parasocial and petty)).

Anyway. TL;DR: The only media-related thing worse than TMA fandom is the movie Old (2021) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

yes you may have been involved in Fandom Drama but have you ever been the catalyst for a specific type of tag starting to be used on ao3 because of the discourse your one (1) cranky tweet started

[jusiri]

Gotta say, i think the peak of my school performance is gonna be that on our last project of the semester, on the project that all of the upperclassmen said they hated, that people said made them cry

when my teacher was having individual discussions with each of us to go over any mistakes we made and explain it, when i went to talk to him, he said that there's about 15-20 mistakes that students will typically make

and i didn't make any of them

And frankly i dont think im gonna do that well in something ever for the rest of my whole academic career lmao

[lightningidle]

Fig's line "I don't think I'm an artist, I think I'm just a good friend" has not left my head at all. Just...

You're Fig Faeth and your horns came in over the summer and you pick up the bard class as a form of adolescent rock 'n' roll rebellion, and it works! It's exactly the outlet you need! You give a guy you just met drumsticks and you start a band and it's good enough that within a year and a half you're touring. You are, in every sense, good at being a bard.

And then, finally, your junior year, you start to take it seriously. Your art goes from an outlet and a form of rebellion to a practice. A discipline. (Can rebellion exist within a discipline?) Your classmates know what they want to do with their work. They all have a thesis statement. And yeah, there's cohesion in the music you make, but you've never had to think about why you make it. You've never sat down and dissected what it is about bass that speaks to you. You've never poured over your lyrics to pick at any deeper meaning. Why should you? You don't play music for a grand design, you do it to... huh, why do you do it?

(Your art is the one form of self-expression that feels as safe as Disguise Self does, because even if you're pouring your heart onto the page and then screaming it in front of thousands of people, it's not like you're really making yourself known. You can sing I'm lonely, I'm scared, I'm furious, and your fans will sing it right back, and there will still be the distance between performer and audience to keep your heart safe.)

Now you're being asked to look inward to explain the artistic choices you're making, and you can't help but recoil at that, because you'd rather do anything than look inward. Meanwhile, your classmates have no problem with it, so you start to wonder if you're a real artist at all. Can your art be authentic if it only exists to bolster a thesis statement? Has your art been unauthentic this whole time because you've never really thought about a thesis statement before? Is that what makes it art, and not just the next track on somebody's teen angst playlist?

You can't think about yourself— acknowledging your own existence makes you want to puke. So if your music is an extension of yourself, (and it is, even if it's just because the spotlight reveals only what you want it to,) you can't think about your music. You can't. You have to. Your grade depends on it.

You're Fig Faeth, and you keep multiclassing because you'd rather be a good friend than a great artist. If introspection is what great art demands, then fuck it. You must not be a bard at all.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

i can't tell if i'm just not paying attention or if mouthwashing just doesn't make any sense

[star-spirit-mayhem]

Hc that Eddie had an ed before Venom came along and Venom eating anything in reach isn't a symbiote thing its just bc Eddie was already borderline starved and Venom could not cope. Scorse? Idk it just feels right

[lord-squiggletits]

What draws you so hard to pharma? I'm so interested in your takes and I'm curious what makes him ur number one cane of worms out of the cast. :O

I think all of the meta posts I've made about Pharma explain enough about why I like him from an analytical/meta perspective (wasted potential, hidden tragic hero, exposing Autobot hypocrisy, etc), so I'll go ahead and share a weirder/less apparent reason.

I wouldn't say that I'm so emotionally attached to Pharma out of resemblance/kinship with him. I don't really have anything in common with him beside some very broad strokes, and I liked him before an event happened in my life that sorta resembled something that happened to Pharma.

The only other IDW character that I've liked to the same extent, not just storywise but personal attachment, is Optimus. Both of them I've had actual real-life feelings over, gotten myself to cry IRL writing or thinking about, etc. What they both have in common are tragic, flawed hero elements, and (where my "weird" reason comes in) both of them have a near-death experience(s) and ultimately die at the end of their storylines with a murky/complicated finality of "did he die redeemed/remembered fondly by others/with people seeing his humanity." I'm a sucker for tragic stories, but it literally is the dying part, I think, that draws me to Pharma.

(Personal stuff under the cut)

A friend of mine died when I was a teenager, and after that happened my perspective on death completely changed. There was the grieving process of course, but their death also just made me ponder death in general... how it could happen, how it feels, what one might think in their final moments, what would make a death meaningful with resolution versus useless and unfulfilled? The particular way my friend died and the conversations we had before then meant that, for me personally, my friend's death left me with a permanent lack of closure on how/why it happened. I mean, I knew the literal cause of death, but I never found out (and probably never will) WHY it happened. If it was on accident or on purpose.

So, on top of all the other narrative juiciness Pharma brings, the fact that he dies three times (two if you think he only almost died on Messatine) makes me feel this indescribable way, more or less an intense empathy. I wonder how it felt for him, what he thought about while he was dying. If he wanted to die (and signs heavily indicate that him goading First Aid was a sort of 'suicide by cop') and if there could've been a way for him to not want to die. It makes me miserable to think of all the goodness he had and yet all of his deaths went basically unmourned and un-remarked upon by all except maybe two people. I look at his deaths not from a writing perspective but from an emotional perspective. His deaths were pointless, unresolved, had no closure. Arguably, both his suffering and his means of escaping that suffering were never healed or paid tribute to. So he makes me feel this sense of tragedy that no other character except Optimus did, whose death also invokes implications of suicidal ideation, questions on what the meaning of his life/death was, and whether he was mourned or not upon his passing.

So, reaching the end of this reflection, I guess the simplest way of putting it is that, without me even realizing it until now, I became attached to Pharma because he reminds me of my old friend.

[katierosefun]

oh there's something particularly painful about my mister in that dong hoon tells ji an that as long as no one knows, it's no big deal, and there's something particularly painful about how ji an tells dong hoon that sometimes, i want [my secret] to play out on big screens for everyone to see, and there's something particularly painful about how the second dong hoon meets the loan shark tormenting ji an, he starts screaming and yelling about how she's just a kid, how could you do that to a kid, and there's something particularly painful about how dong hoon doesn't even let ji an know he did that, but ji an knows. she knows because she was listening in the entire time and she just starts crying because someone actually knows this ugly, sad part of her and still took her side, and something particularly painful about how my mister started with as long as no one knows, it's no big deal but really concludes with there is so much risk in having someone know who you are but there's also so much comfort and peace to be found in that, too and maybe you shouldn't isolate yourself and maybe you should reach for that kind of comfort in being known and loved anyways