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alsofoundinpeas · 12 days ago

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I Don't Need To Know

Summary: Spencer Reid has no choice but to watch the love of his life fall in love with another man.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Major character death. HEAVY angst. Bittersweet ending? Graphic depictions of violence (for maybe two lines). Fingering (f receiving). P in v sex/unprotected sex (in terms of a condom, birth control is mentioned). Loss of virginity (both m and f). Creampie (god I hate that word ugh!!). Slight age gap (roughly five years). Argument scene that may be triggering for readers that have experienced SA or manipulation from a partner (nothing of that nature actually happens, but just in case).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

A/N: This is inspired by Will He by Joji, so I highly recommend listening to it while reading. I cried several times while writing this, but I felt it needed to be done so here it is. :’) Please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :)

I got knots all up in my chest… Just know, I’m trying my best…

Spencer had always found the saying “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” absurd. He couldn’t fathom willingly letting go of something he loved on the off chance that it would come back to him. Not after having everything he’d ever loved ripped from his clutches throughout his lifetime. To him, love wasn’t about releasing someone to see if they’d return. It was about holding on as though his very survival depended on it—like a feral cat finally finding food after days of hunger, sinking its teeth in and never letting go, no matter the cost.

It wasn’t until today that Spencer finally understood the meaning of that stupid phrase. And he wished with every intricate thread of his being that he didn’t.

Five years. Five long, agonizing years had passed. So why was he here now? Why, after what felt like an eternity of pleading for just one more moment with her, did the universe decide now was the time to give him what he wanted?

Ironically, the timing only drove home another phrase he’d always hated: “Be careful what you wish for.”

There she was, as beautiful as the day he’d met her, sitting in the corner of what had once been their favorite café. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches on her ring, the enticing glinting of the jewelry drawing his eyes away from her face momentarily. His heart is in his throat. She’s still wearing the wedding ring he’d given her, twisting it in the same nervous fashion she always used to.

And there across from her is a man that isn’t him making her smile.

‘Cause when you look… When you laugh… When you smile… I’ll bring you back…

Spencer Reid had never been a particularly angry man. He had his moments—who didn’t?—but he usually considered himself level-headed, patient. But now, watching Y/N hide a bashful smile behind the rim of her mug as she gazed at the man across from her, all Spencer could feel was rage. Raw, unbridled rage. It flared up inside him as her head tipped back, the sound of her laughter crashing over him like a tidal wave, stirring his veins with a violent rush. The same sound he’d yearned to hear again for five fucking years. And it was all because of him—Ben.

That was his girl. His perfect, beautiful girl. The love of his life. His angel.

All Spencer could do was stand there, feeling every broken shard of his non-existent heart pierce his chest.

And now I’m sad… And I’m a mess… And now we high… That’s why I left… That’s why I left…

It wasn’t meant to be like this. Spencer had never wanted to leave her. But that choice wasn’t his to make.

That cold, cruel September night six years ago had robbed Spencer of his very existence.

Everything that could have gone wrong during that case did. The bullet wasn’t meant for him, but he took it anyway. He had traded his life in exchange for JJ’s. It wasn’t even meant to be heroic. It wasn’t done out of love. It was just instinct. It’s who he was as a person.

Was.

The word leaves a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Because that’s his reality now. He was a person; an agent, a professor, a son, a husband…

Now he’s… well, that he didn’t quite understand. As a man of science, Spencer was stumped by what he could even call his existence now. Calling himself a ghost felt silly—he felt as alive as the day he’d died. And yet, that was essentially what he was. A whisper of the person he’d once been. A soul caught between worlds.

Spencer could still feel the exact moment his soul wrenched free from its physical tether to the world. Even recalling it sent a shiver down his spine. It hadn’t been peaceful, as so many people claimed in interviews. No… it had been agony in its purest form; white hot and searing as his very essence clawed its way out from his ribs. There was no light waiting for him to step into it and find peace.

Instead, he had watched helplessly as the team he called his family swarmed his dead body, uselessly screaming for a medic as the crimson puddle underneath him grew and smeared beneath their hands as they knelt beside him. He had watched Y/N swing open their door that fateful night, the excited grin on her face vanishing as she came face to face with a tearful Emily instead of the husband she’d been eagerly waiting for. And he had watched the guilt eat away at JJ as their eyes met at his funeral, the hatred on Y/N’s face so raw it made Spencer’s own stomach twist.

Despite the Bureau's insistence, she took charge of every detail—planning his funeral in a way that honored everything Spencer would have wanted. Y/N held Diana as she wept over her baby boy's body. She delivered a eulogy that left even Spencer in shambles. She was the first person to arrive and the last to leave, waiting until everyone had left to sink to her knees beside his casket and howl her grievances.

For that first year, Y/N was as strong as she could be during the day. She handled everything that needed to be done, as long as the sun was still up. But when night fell, and the suffocating silence of their empty home settled in… that’s when she’d finally let herself break.

Spencer had never been a religious man, but the year after his death felt like an endless descent into his own personal hell. He would never escape the sound of those gut-wrenching screams. He cursed whatever force had condemned him to an eternity where he could do nothing but watch, powerless as Y/N crumpled to the floor night after night, her wails so desperate it seemed as though she thought breaking the sound barrier might somehow bring him back to life.

All he could do was stay beside her, silently pleading for his touch to somehow reach her, his hands brushing over her again and again, unnoticed and unfelt.

Time was no longer a concept to Spencer.

The limits of his existence perplexed him. He couldn’t roam freely, couldn’t go where he pleased—he could only follow where Y/N went. It was as if his very soul was bound to hers, linked by some invisible string that kept him tied to her even in death. It brought him both joy and sorrow: joy in the fact that he could still watch her, still admire the way she carried on, and sorrow because she would never know he was there, silently urging her forward, so incredibly proud of her strength.

The longer he lingered, the more control he gained over his abilities. It started with the smallest things—a strand of hair lifting with the brush of his fingers, a faint chill against her skin as he cradled her face while she slept. But soon, it became more. Doors creaked open as he stepped into rooms behind her, and objects shifted ever so slightly from their places when he pushed with just enough force.

There were times when she seemed to sense him—moments Spencer cherished more than anything. In those fleeting instances, it felt as though she could see him, even though he knew she couldn’t. Every day, rain or shine, she visited his grave, and when she spoke to him, her gaze would drift forward, as if she were looking into the honey-colored eyes she once loved. Her hands would rest open in her lap, as though she knew he was holding them. When she was home, she’d speak aloud every thought that came to mind, as though she knew he could hear every word that fell from her perfect lips. And he always responded as if she could hear him in return. That was their new life for the first year after his death.

After a year and one day, he was gone.

That’s where his understanding of the phrase “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be” came from. It was because she had set him free.

One whole year had passed. The hardest year of Y/N’s life. She had knelt by his grave, laying fresh flowers with trembling hands, her tears falling freely for hours. When she finally stood to leave, her legs unsteady beneath her, she pressed a soft kiss to his headstone. Through her tears, she whispered how much she missed him, how he never left her thoughts, and how she’d never stop loving him—but above all, she wished he could be at peace. And on the night following the anniversary of his passing, her wish was granted. He had faded into nothingness, existing only in her dreams and memories for five long years.

But now, he was back. Because he had always been hers.

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips?

Spencer remembered their first time like it was yesterday, though he wasn’t sure if he could thank his eidetic memory or the fact that it was because of how remarkable it had been for the memory lingering so vividly...

“You’re lying! You’ve really never had sex before?”

Y/N squawked the words incredulously as she sat atop Spencer’s lap, grinning down at the stammering mess of a man beneath her. Spencer’s hands flexed against her hips, unintentionally squeezing as he took a deep breath to calm himself.

They were inside Spencer’s apartment, having enjoyed the museum and dinner but still craving each other’s company too badly to end the night there. What started as sweet, innocent pecks pressed up against the kitchen counter had quickly devolved into ravenous, passionate kisses that had them stumbling towards the couch. It was going so well… until Spencer panicked after Y/N had whispered into his ear asking how far he wanted things to go.

That resulted in him spewing out the fact that he, at twenty-six years old, was a virgin.

“No, I haven’t! Why is that so hard to believe?” Spencer huffs, his small smile belying his annoyed tone.

It was their sixth date total in a span of four months, but it was their first date as an actual couple. Spencer had reluctantly agreed to let Penelope set him up on a blind date after his failed attempt at taking JJ out had shattered any of the confidence he’d built up, leaving the man petrified of taking his chances romantically again. He suspected Penelope’s pity for him was why she was setting up said date to begin with, but he quickly found himself grateful that he went.

Y/N had been friends with Penelope for years, having bonded online over some indie punk rock band that was no longer around and developing a close friendship from there despite their age difference. When Penelope found out Y/N had moved to Virginia and was single, she couldn’t resist setting the two up.

It’s Y/N’s turn to stammer as she quickly thinks of a response. “I, uh… you’re just so handsome that I naturally assumed you’d had sex before.”

Spencer blinks up at her skeptically, trying to detect even the faintest clue that the otherworldly woman in his lap was lying to him. All he found was nervous adoration as she stared back down at him, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. It suited her. He wanted to cause it more often.

“I had, um… I graduated super early from both high school and college, so I didn’t do much dating.”

Instead of the judgment Spencer expected to see spread across her face, Y/N simply just hummed in understanding, her eyes curious as they watched him. He’d elaborate more on his unfortunate (for lack of a better term) adolescence later. For now, he just wanted to keep from scaring the poor girl off of his lap so he could taste her sweet chapstick again.

“I see…” Y/N murmurs before continuing, shifting forward slightly with a smirk. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m also a virgin.”

Spencer’s eyes widened almost comically as he gawked up at her. His heart stutters in his chest, his mouth going dry. His tongue pokes out in a meek attempt at wetting his lips, his voice cracking as he responds.

“Et tu, Y/N?”

Oh fuck. Spencer hadn’t meant to let the lame reference slip from his mouth. She just made him so nervous that he couldn’t think straight, and Rome had been heavily on his mind since she had perched herself in his lap. Specifically Roman goddesses, because she looked like she should be amongst them on their thrones. Surely she was going to leave now—-

Loud, genuine laughter bubbles from Y/N’s lips, the noise startling Spencer as she tips her head back and her hands grip his shoulders to stabilize herself. She thought it was funny. She thought he was funny.

“That’s, like, the last thing I expected you to say,” Y/N managed once her laughter had simmered down into giggles. “But, to answer your question… I too have really never had sex before.”

Spencer knew that it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors. The woman was sex personified; the archetype of beauty and seduction wrapped into one perfect being. The twitching in his pants brought his attention back to the situation at hand. He could ask her later why that was. For now, he brought his focus back to her.

In an uncharacteristically bold move, Spencer tilted his head up to brush their noses together. “Would you… would you want to?”

It didn’t take a profiler to notice the hitch in her breath or the almost imperceptible squeezing of her thighs around his hips. Her pupils were already blown, her lower lip trembling from what Spencer prayed was anticipation and not regret as his question settled over her. The silence stretched between them, the seconds feeling like hours in Spencer’s overly anxious mind.

He’d done it now. He’d gone off and opened his stupid mouth and frightened the one woman he could actually see himself having a future with because the head straining against his zipper overruled the head housing his supposed genius level IQ. The apologies were already forming in the back of his throat, but they weren’t needed because she— she was kissing him?

“God, yes. Please,” Y/N murmured eagerly against his lips, effectively clearing every cohesive thought from his brain.

If Spencer thought her words were enough to bring upon his undoing, he was sorely mistaken. The grinding of her hips against his erection ignited something inside of him that he had no idea existed. It was feral, drowning out all of his other emotions and replacing them with one thing: primal, unfiltered desire.

Spencer understood now why men used to start wars over women.

With each gasp that fell upon his ears, Spencer pledged his allegiance to her. Every stuttered moan that came into existence from his hips rutting up into her clothed core fueled his devotion to her. It was animalistic, the way his hands gripped her ass and pulled her tighter against his body as his mouth devoured her now, every cell swimming through his veins screaming for more. More of her touch, more of her taste, more of her sounds... God, those heavenly sounds that had Spencer finally believing in salvation, if only in the form of her skin against his.

Tongues danced together as layers were hastily stripped away. Layers of insecurity. Layers of self-doubt. Layers of uncertainty. Their clothes fell to the ground as though the fabric burned them, clumsy hands fidgeting with buttons and tugging at zippers with a vendetta.

Those layers that had crumbled so easily were replaced instead with the firm knowledge that this was exactly where they were meant to be: in each other’s arms, trembling and panting as their world’s trajectory tilted so violently it uprooted them from their upright position, knocking them down against the leather cushions as their bodies attempted to mend their separated souls back into one.

Spencer choked on the words he wanted to worship her with, so instead he used the most primitive sense he could to get his message across: touch. His lips sucked purpling reminders into the crook of her neck of what they both knew to be true now: He is hers just as much as she is his. Lithe fingers tugged the soaked fabric of her lace panties down until they landed in a heap with their other clothes. Those same fingers pause at the crest of her most intimate spot, his eyes meeting hers with a silent plea.

Y/N found herself in the same position, her words failing her as they were strangled in her throat by the overwhelming adoration she felt for the man hovering above her. Instead of chanting her desire for Spencer to please touch her, she canted her hips up in approval.

Her moans were swallowed by swollen lips that claimed the sound straight from her body as nimble fingers dug themselves into the deepest parts of her. Their rhythm was clumsy but steadfast, her hips bucking against his hand in jerky movements as the palm of his hand pressed against her clit. Spencer’s own hips ground against the bare skin of her thigh, shielded only by the immature fabric of his equation-covered boxers.

Spencer hadn’t for a second thought the night was going to go like this. If he had known he’d have the definition of art itself clawing at his shoulders and panting into his mouth while he made her legs tremble beneath him, he wouldn’t have worn what he deemed his lucky boxers. At least they had done their job, he supposed.

Their lips separated completely as a guttural moan wrenched its way from Y/N’s throat, her body beginning to thrash wildly underneath him as the tension in her lower belly coiled tighter. Spencer wouldn’t allow her first time to happen on his couch. She was much too precious for that. But he’d already made the decision to unravel her at least once while they were there, to bring her over the edge before taking her into his bedroom so that he could experience the glorious sight of her falling apart more than once tonight.

Spencer was a virgin, not a prude. He’d seen porn before. He’d read erotic novels. Anything he could use to try to prepare himself for the real experience, he did. But nothing could have prepared him for the downright visceral reaction Y/N had as his fingers curled and brushed against the rough patch of skin inside of her that caused the tension building in her body to snap. Her cries of pleasure tore through him as her pussy clenched around his fingers, his free hand leaving its place beside her head to keep her thighs pried open. He quickly shifted up onto his knees to watch her taking his fingers as she came, taking the pleasure he inflicted upon her.

He sang her praises while slowing his pace, cooing softly at her as he stroked her hair and worked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Only when she was squirming and whining beneath him did he finally remove his fingers, sucking them into his mouth greedily. Y/N’s mouth gaped open as her chest heaved, her eyes locked on Spencer as his tongue lapped over his fingers, enjoying her essence with a groan. Her body sagged into the couch, a delighted laugh spilling from her exhausted frame as she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of his living room.

“Do you still want to keep going?” Spencer breathed as he gazed down at her, his cheeks flushed and eyes full of something that made Y/N's heart flutter. “B-because we can stop there if you want. I just… I want to do what makes you happy.”

Above her was the man she’d recognized, soft and timid, but now with a newfound air of confidence in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Above her was the man that she wanted more than anything. Above her was the man that she knew, without a shadow of doubt, would be her husband.

“Spencer… if you don’t fuck me right now, then I’ll die a virgin, right here on your couch... and it will be all your fault.”

Spencer’s hearty chuckles filled the room, his nose twitching as he grinned down at the dramatic woman. He simply couldn’t let that be her fate, could he?

Shaking his head, he stooped down to press a gentle kiss to her nose before standing from the couch, offering her his (clean) hand. Y/N’s face twisted in confusion as she stared up at him, still reeling from the earth-shattering orgasm surprisingly given to her by the same man who’d eagerly rambled about the lore behind Doctor Who on their first date when she’d mentioned she hadn’t seen it.

“Not here, silly girl. The bedroom,” He whispered.

He guided her down the dark hallway as though he were escorting the most priceless treasure known to man to his bed, and in his eyes, he was. His hand stayed steady on her hip as she swayed lightly, her body pressed into his side as he opened the door with shaky hands. Any confidence Spencer had managed to muster throughout the night vanished as they crossed the threshold into his bedroom, his teeth gnawing at his lower lip gently as his courage began to crack.

In an almost startling display of being seen, something Spencer had never experienced before, Y/N looped her arms around his neck and tugged him into a kiss that simultaneously stole the breath from his lungs and filled him with the air he needed to breathe again, effectively calming his nerves.

“It’s okay,” She reassured him against his lips. “It’s just me.”

She walked them backward until the backs of her knees pressed into his cool comforter, taking over where Spencer so willingly handed her the reigns while he regained his momentum. She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands pressed into his hips to keep him from following after her. Her eyes met his, the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window illuminating her as though she were a vision, a figment of his imagination that he’d conjured up in the dead of night, ready to haunt his every waking moment once he inevitably woke up to an empty bed. She was too good to be true.

Spencer’s hands fell to rest on her shoulders, just to give himself proof that Y/N was real and that he hadn’t dreamed her up or somehow followed in his mother’s footsteps and succumbed to early onset schizophrenia.

She was real and she was here, eye level with the tent in his boxers and naked as the day she was born, her warm breath fanning across the smattering of hair trailing down from his belly button to below his underwear. His muscles tensed and twitched as she smirked up at him, pressing a tender kiss to the head of his cock through the thin fabric. His entire body flinched from that one touch, his brows furrowing together as he hissed quietly.

“N-not that I wouldn’t love to feel your mouth on me—“ Spencer’s pitch raised as her hands found the elastic of his waistband, pulling his boxers down his legs. “But I… I won’t last if you do.”

The fondness in her eyes quelled any humiliation he felt from having uttered those words.

Placing a kiss to his hip, she nodded in understanding before shuffling backwards to lay in the middle of his bed, with him kneeling onto the mattress after her. The sight of her— stretched out and languid and looking at him as if she wanted to ravage him— had him sending up a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever in the universe had deemed him worthy enough of having this divine of a woman in his life.

As Spencer reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom, Y/N stammers, grabbing his attention. He watches for a moment as she flounders over her words, his brow furrowing in concern at her sudden diffidence.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“I’m on birth control if you want to skip the condom!”

Spencer inhales sharply at the same time she smiles sheepishly up at him, her blurted words almost making him finish before they’d even started. He holds her gaze, tracing her irises for any hint of hesitancy. When he finds none, he nods once, swallowing hard.

“I— uh. Um...”

It was rare that Spencer Reid was rendered speechless, but Y/N had managed to do it with just eleven words. He clears his throat, trying again.

“Yes. Yes, I would like to skip the condom. Only if you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.”

“Yes. It is. I pinky promise.”

Y/N holds up her pinky for him, the sight so endearing he can practically feel his heart melt away, dripping in a sticky mess inside him. He just grins, linking his pinky with hers before he moves to settle over her once more.

Her fingers tangle themselves in his hair as his elbows dig into the mattress beside her ribs. The flushed head of his cock bumps against her clit as he reaches down to line himself up at her entrance, a small whine leaving her lips at the sensation. He repeats the action, dizzy from the sound of her soft noises. She was still soaked from their time on the couch, a small feeling of pride welling in Spencer’s chest at the knowledge that not only did he make her cum, but he’d kept her wet while they made it here.

His lips meet hers in a searing kiss, the both of them quivering with anticipation at giving themselves so intimately to someone for the first time. He was happy it was her. And she was happy it was him.

Spencer couldn’t remember a time where his mind had ever been quiet. All he knew was incessant thoughts and worries, unable to put a halt to the chaos jumbling around his brain. But as he pressed forward and sunk into Y/N for the first time, his entire mind went blank. White static crowded the spaces where various facts and tidbits of information had been stored, the only thing he was able to focus on now being the sheer ecstasy coursing through his body from being inside of her.

His mouth hung open as his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips stilling as they pressed flush against hers. She mirrored his response, squeaking out an “oh!” as her walls fluttered around the intrusion instinctively. He throbbed in response, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck, unable to stop the pitiful whimper that escaped from behind clenched teeth.

She was so tight. So wet. So warm.

Sparks of pleasure zinged up and down his spine as he remained still, waiting patiently for Y/N to adjust to both his size and to the feeling of being filled for the first time in general. He’d wait as long as she needed him to. All he wanted was for her to feel good. To enjoy this as much as he was.

He was a humble man, truly. But even he wasn’t too shy to admit he’d been gifted with a size that was bigger than average. Not necessarily just in length, falling just shy of seven inches, but in girth as well.

Spencer peppered soft kisses up and down her flushed skin, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his lips. He was sure she could feel his own heartbeat pounding against his ribs from where their bare chests were pressed together. Her nipples were taut, pressing into his skin enticingly. He wanted to touch them. Taste them. But he’d wait until she was ready. He didn’t want to overwhelm her.

At her gentle nod, Spencer lifted his head to press his forehead against hers, their lips brushing together as he pulls his hips back. The sensation of her grip tightening in his hair as he pushed forward does more to him than he’d care to admit, but he still lets her hear just how affected he is by her. With a shaky moan, Spencer repeats the motion, easing out of her before gently rocking back into her. He keeps this up for a few minutes, her sharp breaths dissolving into muted moans of her own.

“You can— you can move faster if y-you want.”

Spencer’s eyes flutter shut at her words, and he’s pressing a fervent kiss to her lips before he begins to really move. The sound of skin smacking together begins to fill the air as he ruts his hips into hers, his walls bearing witness to every pleasured noise that spills between them. His pace is frenzied, his rhythm stuttered, but it feels so good that neither of them really care.

Y/N’s nails roamed his body now, alternating between dragging harsh lines into the planes of his back and burying into his shoulders to leave little tender half moons in their wake. Spencer yearned to pull every single noise that he could from her throat, planting his hands beside her head and hefting himself up for better leverage before his lips wrapped around her right nipple. He sucks harshly at the pert bud, reveling in the desperate whimper it causes.

Spencer grunts when she clenches around him, letting his mouth glide over to her neglected breast, his hips hammering into hers now as she cries out his name over and over. He was close… so, so close. But he needed to make her cum one more time before he’d allow himself to. He needed to know what it felt like for her to fall apart around his cock. With every ounce of willpower he had, Spencer slows his hips to a stop inside of her.

Y/N whined her discontent at his sudden pause, her eyes opening to blink hazily up at him. “Why’d you… why’d you stop?” She panted, her fingers finding and twisting her own nipples as if she couldn’t help but to touch herself.

Spencer muffled a curse at the sight, sitting back on his haunches as he stared down at the woman beneath him with reverence.

“Flip onto your stomach for me, angel.”

She does as instructed, wiggling her hips coyly as Spencer grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffs it underneath her hips to prop her up better, ensuring she’d be comfortable. Once she’s settled on her front, Spencer wasted no time in pressing himself back into her, both of them releasing a moan so loud he’s surprised the walls don’t shake. Thank God he didn’t have neighbors right now.

He eased himself down so his chest is pressed to her back, lavishing her neck and shoulder in open mouthed kisses while his hips drilled into her. This angle was deeper, allowing him to plow directly into her g-spot as she writhed and begged incoherently beneath him. He laced his left hand with hers, shoving them into his mattress. His other hand stuffed itself between the pillow and her wriggling body until the pads of his fingers found her clit, his breath coming out in sharp pants into her ear.

Y/N felt delirious with pleasure, bucking her hips back in a feeble attempt to meet his. He began whispering into her ear about how good she felt around him, thanking her for allowing him to fuck her, praising her for taking him so well…

His words paired with his fingers circling her clit have her second orgasm ripping through her body with so much ferocity that tears begin to fall down her cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut and her hand clutching his so tightly her knuckles whitened as she wailed into a pillow, gushing around him.

Spencer let out his own guttural moan at the feeling, spilling into her with a shout as he planted his head between her shoulder blades, his hips weakly thrusting into her as they rode out their climaxes.

He held her until her tremors stopped. He kissed her forehead before he darted off to the bathroom to get a warm rag to clean her with. He thanked her in soft whispers as her eyes began to drift shut before he’d even finished cleaning his mess between her thighs.

And he knew, watching the gorgeous woman before him sleep so soundly in his bed after they’d just defiled each other’s innocence, that he was looking at his future wife.

Will your lover caress you the way that I did? Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit?

The air was thick with tension as Y/N stared at Ben, her chest heaving and eyes watering at the hurt look on his face. Spencer watched from the corner, his concern for his wife outweighing the jealousy he had previously felt when he watched the couple slip into her— though he still selfishly thought of it as their— bed. Y/N had been dating Ben for three months now. That made for three months that Spencer ached so heavily he’d sometimes wish he could fade back into nothingness if it meant he didn’t have to watch the love of his life with another man.

The furthest Ben and Y/N had gone physically was a few pecks here and there, with Y/N always being the one to draw away and cut the kisses short. Ben had played the nice guy act, reassuring her that he understood her hesitance and that he’d be okay doing whatever she was comfortable with. Spencer despised him. He could see right through Ben’s facade, and if he could do more than nudge a door open, he’d make that hatred known. But he couldn’t.

Spencer watched on with furrowed brows as Y/N reached a shaky hand over and turned the lamp on her nightstand on, illuminating the dark room in a soft glow that contrasted with the dark energy that began to cloud the small space. Spencer could see it all on Ben’s face: hurt, betrayal, anger. He could see the fear, guilt, and shame on Y/N’s.

This was the first night Y/N had tried to push past her discomfort so that she could offer Ben more than just false promises of physical intimacy. It started slow, with soft kisses that dissolved into hungrier ones as they laid together in the dark. But the second Ben went to roll on top of her, sliding a hand down her body to pull her hips against his, she panicked. Her body jolted, and her hands had shot out instinctively to shove him off of her, leaving them where they were now in some sort of silent standoff.

Spencer knew as soon as it had happened just why it did. She had thought of him. His guilt overruled the smug pleasure he’d felt as he watched it unfold. As painful as it had been watching Y/N move on with her life, all he ultimately wanted was for her to be happy. Spencer had been barely thirty-five when he passed, and she had only been thirty. That left almost an entire lifetime ahead for her, and even though he so desperately wanted to have lived that lifetime with her, he had to accept that that wasn’t what fate had in store for them.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Spencer’s jaw tightened at the same time Y/N’s dropped.

“Excuse me?” Y/N leveled Ben with a narrowed glare, rage flashing in her eyes in place of the shame that had just been there.

“I get that you have a dead husband. I’ve tried to be patient with you. But fuck! It's been six years, Y/N. It’s time for you to move on,” Ben seethes, his face reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “I can’t even touch you without you flinging me off of you!”

It’s as though Y/N is the exact physical embodiment of Spencer’s own emotions, physically reacting in the way that he can’t. She was out of the bed before Spencer could even blink, marching over to the bedroom door and yanking it open. Ben watches in bewilderment, his mind clearly not catching up with what was happening.

“Get out of my fucking house.”

Y/N’s voice is cold as she stares menacingly at Ben. When he doesn’t move, she speaks again, her voice louder. “Get out of my fucking house, Ben!”

Ben stammers, standing from the bed and attempting to plead his case. “Babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just-”

“I don’t care. Get out of my house,” Y/N repeats herself, cutting off his pathetic excuses.

Spencer smirks proudly from beside her.

That’s his girl.

Ben sighs, hanging his head and scrubbing his hands frustratedly across his face.

“If you kick me out over some guy that’s been dead for six years, then we’re over. For good.”

Spencer cackles at Ben’s proposition, though it can’t be heard by either party in the room. That was his attempt at fixing things? Seriously? Good riddance. He’d drag the guy out of there himself if he could.

“If I haven’t made myself clear, we’re already over. No one talks about my husband like that. Now get out before I call the police and have you escorted off of my property.”

It doesn’t take long after that for Ben to tuck his tail and leave, slamming the front door on his way out. Y/N’s steam runs out the second his car pulls out of her driveway, tears streaming down her face as she curls up on her couch.

Spencer’s own chest twinges uncomfortably as he sits beside her, stroking her hair despite her inability to actually receive the comfort. He didn’t know what hurt more; watching his beautiful, broken girl sob and not being able to stop her tears, or being the cause of the tears himself. He had to do something, anything to let her know he was still there and that he still loved her beyond death.

The same time Spencer stands is the same time Y/N’s tears pause, a hiccup rocking her frame before she glances up.

“Spence?” Y/N calls softly. Spencer’s heart would have stopped right there had he not already been dead.

Spencer turns slowly from his place at the end of the couch, his eyes wide and hopeful as he responds. “Yes, angel?”

His hope fades as he realizes she isn’t looking at him, rather her eyes are just darting around the room.

“Spencer I… I know it’s been awhile since I’ve talked to you. And for that, I’m so sorry,” Y/N starts, her voice cracking. “I don’t know if you can even hear me. Or if you ever could. But I miss you. I miss you in my bones. I just… you were— are my everything.”

The lump in her throat grows as the tears begin to stream down her face again. Spencer’s own eyes sting with tears that she’ll never see drip down his face. He swallows hard, making his way over to their— yes, their— bookshelf.

“I’d give anything to have you back in my arms… I should have begged you to leave the BAU and just teach full-time if it meant I could still have you here, safe and at home. It’s not even a home without you.”

Y/N sobs freely now, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them before she buries her head into them.

Every ounce of grief, guilt, sadness, and anger from what his death has done to his precious girl fuels Spencer to do something he deemed impossible: he yanks the leatherbound notebook holding their vows inside of it off of the bookshelf, sending it tumbling to the ground in a desperate attempt to show her that he’s still there and that he still loves her.

The noise causes a yelp to slip from Y/N’s lips, her head jerking up as the book hits the hardwood floor with a loud thump. It had fallen open exactly to where Spencer wanted it to: the page starting his vows to her. Y/N crawls from the couch to the book, her trembling hands lifting the journal so that she can read the words her husband wrote to her ten years ago. With a deep exhale, she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor, reading Spencer’s chicken scratch he called handwriting with a heavy heart. And for the first time since his casket closed, she feels a sense of peace wash over her. She was going to be okay, despite it all, because he was hers just as much as she was his.

Continued A/N: Ahh!! Ghost!Spencer my beloved. :') JUST TO CLARIFY: I am not a JJ hater!! It just fit better for the story to have her be the one this all happened for. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to sharing more in the future with you as my blog grows <3

K <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg smut #virgin!Spencer reid #virgin!reader x virgin!Spencer reid

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vsimp · 2 months ago

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"glimpse of us"

pairing: zhongli x reader

genre: angst, no comfort

w/c: 850

summary: "glimpse of us" by joji, but you are not her

You have been through everything with him. Through the archon war, through the cataclysm, through the ongoing erosion, and through the “death” of Morax. You wanted to think that you were the closest person to him. You knew all of his likes and dislikes. You knew what all of his hobbies were. You knew how much he cared about his people, the people of Liyue. You understood him more than anyone.

“My dearest and oldest friend…” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbled through the plains of Liyue, like a gentle breeze that could soothe even the most unfortunate of souls. “My y/n… You have truly proved yourself to be my most loyal companion. I was once an archon, and now I am merely a man, yet you love me anyways, and it has taken me this long to realize that. Will you accompany this old soul for the rest of his modest life?”

When he had proposed to you, you felt like the happiest person in the world. The man who you had been in love with over the last thousands of years had finally realized your feelings, and you were ecstatic. But despite his whispers of love to you, despite all of the passionate feelings that he vocalized, there was always a lingering thought in the back of your mind.

Indeed, you knew everything about Morax. Even his heartaches and troubles. Even his old love who he lost many, many millennials ago.

The death of Guizhong broke your heart as well. She was loved by many, that included the Geo Archon himself. You didn’t think your unrequited love would ever be returned, and yet, you still somehow felt guilty now that you’ve taken the place of your old friend, the one who used to stand by his side.

He had never once looked at you the way that he looked at her. He had never once smiled at you the way he did her. And even at night when he dreams, he dreams of her.

But you smiled on, hoping and wishing that Zhongli would be happy by your side. Minutes passed like hours, as you kissed his lips, and hours passed like seconds as you laughed by his side. But you knew that you were just her replacement. You knew that whenever he looked into your eyes, he was not looking at you, but instead at a glimpse of her.

“I love you, Guizhong,” Zhongli had let out one day. Whatever you had in your hand had fallen to the ground at the time, leaving a loud thud amidst the silence. “No… No, I meant y/n. I love you, y/n.” Zhongli was flustered, which was unlike him, and also quick to correct his mistake, but it was too late. You had already found out about his true feelings.

He chased you outside as you ran straight into the rain, calling your name and asking you calmly to come back inside. You didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t know how to react. You just knew that you could no longer face him. The thunder roared loud in the sky as your heart ached.

Your fears were confirmed that night. You had never seen Zhongli look so desperate and scared before. It was like he knew what his true feelings were, but he just didn’t want to lose you. The damage, however, had already been done.

He held you in his arms tightly, catching you before you got too far, your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” he pleaded, “please… come back inside. It’s raining and you’ll get sick.”

“It’s been thousands of years, Morax.” Zhongli’s grip tightened as he heard your firm voice, as if he was afraid he’d lose you like how he had lost everybody else in his life. “I’ve always been yours… but when will you ever be mine?”

“I apologize. I truly am sorry. It was a slip of the tongue.” But he couldn’t deny the truth. You had hoped he would say that you were the only one in his heart right now. That you are the only one he thought about. He remained uncharacteristically silent but still clinging onto you.

It was time you put yourself first for once. Everything you had done had been for him, the man you love. But his silence spoke louder than his actions in this case, and it cracked open your heart even further.

“I think… we need a break. I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause before Zhongli let you go.

“Very well,” he said hesitantly and cautiously. “I cannot force you to stay. But remember this, I truly love you. And when you would like to speak again, I will be here waiting for you.”

“Unfortunately, I’m tired of doing the chasing,” you said simply.

“The chasing…? Oh, my dear…” You couldn’t look at his expression, but you could tell he finally understood your feelings. Still, he hesitated to say what he truly wanted to say, a long pause between his words. “It appears I cannot convince you to stay…”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

Zhongli watched as you walked away. The light of his life had faded, and now, he truly was all alone.

#i'm sorry everytime i listen to this song i think about zhongli #ik this is like the common trope with zhongli angst but i couldn't help it #zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader angst #just a blurb i wrote a long time ago #angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact

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i23kazu · 1 year ago

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GENSHIN MEN & SHOWING YOU THEIR LOVE !

characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe neuvillette wriothesley x reader genre. romantic fluff!! an. i made a part 1 a looong time ago but it's time for another round of how deep is your love how deep is yooour loooove | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

xiao, who shows his love to you by silently leaving items that you mentioned that you like on your bedside stand, so that you have something to be happy about once you wake up. some days it's a bundle of qingxins or silk flowers, and other days, a bag of salty snacks from chef mao's kitchen. thank him by wrapping your arms around him, and whisper in joyful gratitude.

zhongli

zhongli, who shows his love to you by subtly acknowledging your presence in his life whenever he's talking to someone. a quiet nod in your direction whenever someone asks about any of his achievements is a common reoccurence, with a soft smile on his face as well. it's a sweet thing, almost like a shared little secret between the both of you.

diluc

diluc, who shows his love to you by making sure that he's on time when picking you up from work. he always gets there five to ten minutes earlier, so that he can pick up your favourite pastry from the cafe next door. it's a sweet thing, diluc's love – hold it close and treasure it, because he will never give this love that he gives you to anyone else.

kaeya

kaeya, who shows his love to you by continuously texting you throughout the day. the sweet reminder that you're always on his mind makes you smile with each notification lighting up your phone screen. a groan escapes your lips as he sends you a sweet message that reads, "reminded me of you, xoxo! miss you!". sweet, isn't it? attached to it is a picture of his work bathroom.

childe

childe, who shows his love to you by listening to your shared playlist with him throughout the day. laufey, beadadoobee, adam melchor, joji, and more are beats constantly pumping him through the day. he sends you screenshotted and annotated lyrics of your favourite songs, highlighting the word "love" over and over again.

neuvillette

neuvillette, who shows his love to you by remembering the little things that you like. it might be that small bakery in the north of fontaine, or that spot with the bunch of pretty flowers that you took him to once. if you love something, he remembers – it's an unforgettable kind of love, and it's the kind of love that makes you fall in love with neuvillette over and over again.

wriothesley

wriothesley, who shows his love to you by choosing to come home every single day after a long day of work at the fortress. he's weary and he shuffles his feet back to the door of your – but he doesn't care, because he's home. seeing your face light up once you see him reminds him of why he chooses to commute an hour just to get to the fortress and home, instead of staying at the fortress.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

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vanillawurld · 5 months ago

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༊*·˚A Glimpse

✧.* Request- Anonymous

"Fuck it write anything with like joost angst idk have it be like “glimpse of us by joji” type of vibe"

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Angst, cheating, making out, kind of a hot moment(?), cussing.

✧.* Summary - Joost finally being able to talk to (Y/N), 'the one who got away', his 'lover' at a small house party but forgets he has his girl with him.

✧.* Extra- I love writing angst yall. The reader is implied to be Latina with a tanner/browner/darker complexion along with dark hair. I needed her to connect to something specificallyLOL

✧.* Word Count - 3,016

From the outside, Joost and his girlfriend, Andrea, appeared to be the happiest couple in the solar system. She is always treated like a princess by him. Takes her wherever she pleases, buys her whatever she wants, and treats her like she's the only girl in the world. They treat each other in a way that makes them seem like the ideal couple. All of that can only be seen from the outside from people who don't know Joost at all.

What really takes a turn is Joost's intentions. The intentions his friends are aware about and the fact that they know more about his relationship. They know the messed up reasoning on why Joost was with Andrea in the first place. They always implied to Joost about what he was doing was fucked, but Joost just pretended he didn't know what they were talking about. He was avoiding his pain and sadness with delusions and manipulations to himself.

The only reason Joost was with Andrea was because she resembled someone from his past that he couldn't let go of. She was like a carbon copy of a woman named (Y/N). (Y/N) was the woman who Joost was convinced he was going to marry. He wanted a life with her and actually envisioned himself having a family with her. He was a sucker for her. It was all perfect until his focus on work and music drifted him apart. He walked away from her and that was his biggest mistake ever.

When he realized (Y/N) was gone, Andrea entered his life. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He was allured by her beauty. She had beautiful dark hair, soft skin that went along with gold, plush lips that complimented her brown lipliner, and a smile he could recognize from a mile away. All beautiful features, just like the ones (Y/N) had.

The day Joost introduced Andrea to his friends, the atmosphere got thick and uncomfortable. They all looked at each other and immediately got the same thought in their head. Some even thought Joost and (Y/N) got back together because of how similar Andrea and (Y/N) looked. When Joost got confronted about dating Andrea, Joost pretended like his friend was speaking gibberish and to never say Andrea was similar to his ex. They all knew Joost was living a lie.

Joost always lied to himself about Andrea, but deep down, he knew what he was doing. He knew why he got with her in the first place and he hated it. Andre treated him like he was royalty. She was hitting all the right spots for Joost, except for one particular spot; she wasn't her. Andrea wasn't (Y/N) and will never be. There would be moments he would look at Andrea in a mirror and for a split second, see (Y/N). Every time he would look into her eyes, he would see (Y/N). Joost hated the fact he was living a lie but he was already too deep into his internal mess. Andrea had already fallen for him, the way he fell for (Y/N).

Joost and his girl were invited to a house party hosted by his cousin's friends. It was just a regular party, with the typical items that involved parties. Booze, music, people. Joost went to purely have fun with his girl by his side. It had been a while since he went out to party. As soon as Joost walked in, everything he had to worry about was tossed out the window.

Joost was laughing up a storm with his friends. Drinking weak shots, and singing along to whatever Dutch songs they were playing. But they weren't just playing Dutch music, they were playing a whole genre of different types of music. American Western music like hip-hop, blues, r&B. Latin-American music like bachata, reggaeton, merengue. But for some reason, Joost felt like they were playing more Latin-American songs, the genre (Y/N) always loved to play. Joost always listened to different Latino genres with (Y/N) because she loved it. He didn't understand what they were saying in the songs, but he loved watching her sing them.

The intro key to a bachata song started playing, pulling Joost out of his thoughts and pulling him into nostalgia. He heard the creator of the song sing his notes and bring in more nostalgic emotions. It was one of the songs (Y/N) would always play. As the man sang the song, Joost swore he heard (Y/N)'s voice sing along. His heart's rate started slowly growing faster. He looked around to see if he could catch her but had no luck.

He heard the woman next to him break him away from his thoughts and 'search', "Babe, are you okay?" Joost looked to his right and saw Andrea casually looking at him. He gave her a nod and decided to take another shot. The alcohol in the shots were weak, but since Joost felt like he was slowly losing his mind, the shots felt like they were getting to him. He felt like he needed to splash his face to fully pull him away from his lingering thoughts.

He got up from his seat, "I- uh, have to go to the bathroom." He quickly walked away without even letting Andrea say a quick 'okay.' Part of him was hoping to see (Y/N) and was even looking around while he was walking towards the restroom. The other part of him prayed he didn't run into (Y/N) in fear of breaking down in front of her. In his head, he wanted her to see he was doing "better" so she could develop strong feelings and try to win him back. He was delusional.

When he made it to the bathroom, he splashed water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. His blue ocean-like eyes stared right back at him, trying to send him a message. He kept still for a few seconds until he heard a muffled voice from outside, "(Y/N), where are you going?" his heart started to increase again. A small voice in his head prayed that someone said another name instead of hers. He turned to the door and prepared himself to walk back outside, praying to not bump into (Y/N) but hoping he does.

When he opened the door, he was immediately hit by (Y/N)'s signature scent. That made his heart go even faster. His brain told him to ignore it and go back to Andrea, but his heart, his poor desperate heart, told him to find her. His constant battles between his heart and brain, but at the end of the day, he always followed his heart.

The house was a two-bedroom home, so he had quite a few rooms to check. Some had people making out, some giving blow jobs, some crying over an ex. It was a lot. It was like his heart knew where she was since it was beating faster each door he approached. Finally, one of the last rooms contained the woman he secretly yearned for months, almost years. He peeked inside to see her sitting, legs crossed, on the phone, talking to someone. His heart and brain were still fighting. His brain kept telling him to close the door, leave her alone, and go back to his girlfriend, but his heart told him to talk to her. His heart always won.

He slowly opened the door, to reveal himself. (Y/N) looked up and froze. They both stared at each other, (Y/N) with wide eyes and Joost with desperate eyes. "I- uhh... I have to call you back," she said while putting down the phone.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked up. She wanted to cry, but didn't want to in front of Joost. She didn't want to show her weak side in front of a well known stranger. She looked back at Joost and gave him a weak smile. She hadn't seen his face in a while. She missed his handsome structure, blue eyes, stylish mustache she always loved.

Joost was on the verge of falling to his knees. He needed to leave but he didn't want to. He wanted to hear her voice again, but he knew if he did, he would fall back into her eternal love that he never wanted to leave. "I'm sorry, wrong room. I was looking for.. a friend," he weakly said.

As he turned around, he heard her voice, "You're lying." That was one thing (Y/N) was good at, looking through people. It was both a blessing and a curse. He turned back around and looked her back in the eyes.

"You're still good at detecting lies," He said. He watched as (Y/N) giggled at his comment. His heart smiled, he missed her little laughs.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he said back.

There was a moment of silence between them. They kept staring at each other, smiling. (Y/N) looked at the spot next to her and scooched over, patting the spot next to her, indicating him to sit next to her. He happily obliged, closing the door behind him, and sat next to her. There he finally smelled her scent, he missed her. They continued looking at each other in silence, until Joost broke the silence, "So, how have you been?"

"I've been good, been building my life back up," she replied. That made Joost want to ask her more, but didn't want to invade her privacy. "What about you? You got a girlfriend?" she jokingly asked, but Joost thought she was being serious.

"I... I don't" he lied and (Y/N) knew this.

She frowned at his answer, "Don't lie to me. You do have a girlfriend," she passive-aggressively said.

"Then why did you ask me if you knew?"

"I asked that as a joke... and to see if you were going to answer honestly,"

There was a hard silence between them before (Y/N) broke it, "Why did you lie?"

Joost looked her in the eyes and started tearing up, "Because I miss you." That was his heart talking. He knew what he was doing was wrong. Emotionally cheating on Andrea with the love of his life. He felt a bit of guilt but at the same time it felt right.

(Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn't miss him at all. (Y/N) yearned to be in Joost's arms again, but not if he was with another girl. It wasn't right to her or the other woman. "Honestly, I've miss you too," she said, making Joost light up, "But, it's wrong to miss you. You have a new life with another woman and I'm working on getting my life back together."

That made Joost eternally sigh. It's like his chances went back to an all-time low again. He wanted to tell her that he didn't want Andrea and that he wanted her, but he knew (Y/N) was going to clock him on doing that. He started tearing up. The tear build-up got too heavy for his eyes so they started rolling down his face. His emotions got the best of him. He started letting out tiny sobs because he couldn't keep them in.

(Y/N)'s heart started to feel extremely heavy. She hated seeing Joost cry and it was even worse seeing him cry and not being able to comfort him like she used to. She couldn't kiss his beautiful face, she couldn't kiss his lips, she couldn't hold him intimately, but she wanted to so badly. Sometimes a person's wants could be stronger than a person's inner morals.

"Hey, hey it's okay," she placed both hands on the sides of his face and looked at him with sad eyes. "Everything will be okay. Everything will go in place when the time is right, but right now the time doesn't seem right for us," she whispered.

"Yes, it does. The time is right for us, I can make it right for us. I'll leave Andrea for you because we belong together," Joost said with heavy tears running down his face. His emotions truly got the best of him. Joost felt his heart become even more sorrow-filled when he felt her touch. He melted in her hands.

(Y/N) shook her head at his statement, "That's not right, Joost. You can't break a girl's heart for another girl, that's never right." She started wiping his tears away with her fingers, "We will have our time again if the universe permits it. And when we have our time, I promise it'll be ten times better than before."

That made Joost cry even more, He didn't want time, he wanted her now. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I made a mistake leaving you. I'm so sorry," His eyes kept the tears coming.

"Don't apologize to me Joost, I'm very much over it. I don't hate you. I still love you, but just right now, it isn't-" (Y/N) was cut off by Joost hugging her. Their bodies close together like they used to be, made Joost sob. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, making their touch feel closer. After a few minutes of Joost and (Y/N) holding each other, they pulled away to look at each other in the eyes. Joost's now blood-shot red eyes staring back at (Y/N) mesmerizing eyes.

"You've always been handsome to me," (Y/N) said, making Joost chuckle. He raised his hand to rest it on (Y/N)'s cheek. She closed her eyes and started melting in his touch, just like he did. She re-opened her eyes to see Joost watching her like she was a trophy. It was a bitter-sweet moment.

"You were always like a goddess to me," he replied. (Y/N) gave him a shy smile. This felt like a good moment for Joost to send his message to her heart and brain. He started closing the gap between them, making the moment more intimate.

(Y/N) watched Joost get closer, she started feeling guilty but felt like it was right. She wanted to say something, but her heart kept telling her to shut up. "Joost-" she was cut off by his lips. She started to eternally panic but quickly calmed down when she realized this was what she wanted all along. She closed her eyes and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. They were finally feeling each other after a long time. It felt right, but wrong at the same time. They wanted this moment to last but knew it wouldn't.

It wasn't long before they used their tongues. From lips to lips, to tongue and lips. The moment was getting hot for them, their hands started to drop to each other's body. Joost was starting to feel her chest and her hips while (Y/N) started feeling the tent in his pants. They both started moaning from the sensation of their touch. They were touch starved for each other. The moment was ruined when Joost's phone started blowing up with text messages. Joost broke away and checked his phone to see Andrea's contact photo. (Y/N) peaked over and saw her contact name and felt her heart drop. Her contact name was "Princess" with a heart and bow emoji, the same contact name Joost had for (Y/N).

She realized what they did was a mistake. Joost was still a taken man and she had no right to ruin that. (Y/N) got up from her spot and started walking towards the door. "Wha- where are you going?" she heard Joost ask.

She shut her eyes and sighed deeply. She turned around to face him and started tearing up, "I'm sorry, but I think what was did was a mistake."

"How? It felt right for me,"

"Yes, for you, but is it right for Andrea? My friends have told me that she treats you like an absolute prince. This isn't fair for her. I'm sorry Joost but the time isn't right for us. I'm not going to sit here and make you feel good while that poor girl is asking people about your whereabouts. I won't do it," (Y/N) was starting to get angry and Joost sensed it. "You can try and make things right between us, but there's still going to be a girl out there with a broken heart because of you... I want you to go out there and tell her what you were doing with me in this room. If I find out that you didn't tell her, I will personally tell her myself because I don't want her to look stupid, telling people that you two are in love meanwhile you still love me," and with that, (Y/N) left the room.

Joost sat in silence and thought about what (Y/N) said. He knew she was right. It was better if he came clean than for her to find out by (Y/N). He stared at the wall in front of him and started imagining hundreds of scenarios of how the interaction between him and Andrea would go if he told her. A habit he always had when he had to make a hard decision. He fucked up badly and had to pay the price.

(Y/N) started speed walking down the stairs and through the hall. She was trying hard not to let her tears run down her face. She had mixed emotions about what happened and what she said to Joost. As she was walking, she made eye contact with a woman who looked exactly like her. It was Andrea. It was like time turned into slow-motion, they both stared at each other with different expressions. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows in guilt, while Andrea's confused expression turned to sadness. They both knew what happened without even needing to say words to each other.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

is my writing good, be honest

im too lazy to check for grammar or spelling LOL

#joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost oneshot #joost klein

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yawnderu · 11 months ago

Note

ok so regarding pink guy, filthy frank, etc. & goofy's trial and bimbo!reader i feel like all that stuff would be something simon would show bimbo!reader and she thinks its fucking hilarious. like she's smart enough to know joji is using these characters as satire and thinks his content is the greatest thing and so when simon show's her goofy's trial? She. Is. DYING. and cant stop quoting it for a few days after, specifically the "[goofy's laugh] guilty!!!" and "he's killed 27 children and crippled 5" and also one day randomly quotes it around the 141, right?

it spirals all over again, price has to deal with the 3 (mostly soap & gaz) + bimbo!reader every once in a while laughing like goofy before saying guilty.

PLS EFHJBFEBHJ

I fully believe she'd get along SO fucking well with Gaz and Soap since they're closer to her age than Price is, but all 3 of them together? An absolute nightmare.

She invites them to visit when they're all on leave, preparing them cute desserts and much to Simon's dismay— inviting them to stay over often. Gaz absolutely adores doing skincare with you, shooting Simon a smug smile even when he gets scolded because he's not letting the face mask dry properly!!

Soap likes hanging out with you because it gives him more inspiration to draw, having you nerd out about nebulas and the universe, even showing him some of your favorite studies while he draws things based on them. He draws you too but keeps that a secret from everyone, not wanting anyone to think the wrong thing. Simon almost hung him when he found drawings of you on his journal, and Soap had to explain it's only because he thinks your style is pretty 😭😭😭

SRRY I TRAILED OFF EFHJBEBHJFJHBEF

They'd def fucking laugh at the idiot Goofy Trial and quote it so often that at some point they're laughing out of instinct. They forget about it for a while until one of them randomly quotes it, and now it's back to Simon and Price exchanging a look of agreement that they're too fucking old and tired for this.

Ever since Simon introduced her to Pink Guy, she also memorized the entire セックス大好き, leaving them all wondering when the fuck did she even learn Japanese. EFHBFBEHBEFHJ

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

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bookwormjust · 3 months ago

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Imagine: The Cauldron’s Wrath and Azriel’s Love

The King of Hybern’s war camp was an imposing sight—a dark, foreboding landscape filled with enemies who reeked of cruelty and malice. The tension in the air was palpable, each breath feeling like a struggle against the oppressive weight of impending doom. Your heart pounded as you stood with your sisters, Nesta and Elain, on the raised dais where the Cauldron loomed, its dark, ancient magic swirling ominously.

Feyre stood beside Rhysand, her expression a mix of defiance and desperation as she tried to bargain for your safety. But the King of Hybern’s smug, cruel smile told you everything you needed to know—he had no intention of letting you leave unscathed. The chains that bound your wrists bit into your skin, a painful reminder of your vulnerability in this twisted game.

The Inner Circle was assembled, their expressions grim as they watched the King’s cruel spectacle unfold. Cassian was bleeding from a deep gash on his shoulder, his wings battered and dragging on the ground. Azriel, your mate, was barely standing, his shadows clinging to him like a shroud, the pain in his eyes mirrored in the unsteady way he held himself upright. His usual calm composure was fractured, the terror of potentially losing you visible in every taut line of his body.

“I want my sisters back!” Feyre shouted, her voice laced with fury and fear as she tried to appeal to the King’s vanity, offering herself as a willing participant in exchange for your lives.

But the King only laughed, his voice dripping with derision. “You all will learn the cost of defiance,” he sneered, his gaze sweeping over the three of you before settling on Azriel, who met his eyes with a deadly calm that promised retribution. The King’s smile widened, enjoying the power he held over you all.

Elain was the first to be forced into the Cauldron. She screamed as the magic consumed her, the ancient power pulling her under. The Inner Circle watched in horror, powerless to stop it. Then Nesta was dragged forward, thrashing and spitting curses, her defiance only spurring the King’s sadistic delight. The water churned violently as Nesta was thrown in, her screams mingling with the Cauldron’s terrible hiss.

Your turn came far too soon, the guards’ grips tightening as they pulled you toward the Cauldron. You fought against them, the primal fear of death making your heart race. The cold stone of the dais scraped against your knees as they forced you closer, the chill of the Cauldron’s dark power seeping into your bones.

“Wait!” Azriel’s voice cut through the chaos, filled with a desperate command. He lunged forward, but his injuries slowed him, and the guards pushed him back. Rhysand tried to intervene, his power crackling around him, but the King’s wards held firm.

You looked over your shoulder, your eyes locking onto Azriel’s. There was so much unsaid between you—so many words of love and promises of a future that you hadn’t yet spoken. The bond between you thrummed with a wild, frantic energy, the connection a lifeline in the face of what was about to happen.

“Azriel,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes as you were dragged closer to the Cauldron’s edge. His name was a plea, a promise, and a goodbye all rolled into one. The world seemed to slow, the roar of the Cauldron and the King’s laughter fading into the background.

Azriel’s expression was a mask of agony and fury, his shadows swirling around him in a frantic storm. “I’ll find you,” he vowed, his voice breaking. “No matter what, I’ll find you.”

The guards didn’t wait for another moment. With a rough shove, they pushed you into the Cauldron’s depths. The water was freezing, the shock of it stealing your breath as you were pulled under. Darkness closed in around you, the Cauldron’s magic a suffocating force that tore at your very essence. Pain lanced through you, every nerve ending screaming in agony as the ancient power tried to reshape you.

You fought against the pull, every instinct screaming to survive, but the Cauldron was relentless. The pain intensified, blinding and consuming, and for a moment, you were certain you wouldn’t make it out. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness fraying as the magic continued its brutal work.

The bond with Azriel was the only thing that anchored you. Even through the haze of pain, you felt him reaching out, his presence a beacon in the darkness. His voice, strong and steady, cut through the chaos, a lifeline that you clung to with everything you had.

Stay with me, he pleaded through the bond, his voice tinged with desperation. Don’t let go.

But the pain was overwhelming, a crushing weight that made it hard to breathe, to think. You felt your body breaking apart, the magic tearing at you from the inside out. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped. Silence fell over the world, the water of the Cauldron stilling around you.

You drifted in that void, caught between life and death, the faint tug of the bond with Azriel the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. You could feel his fear, his rage, and his love, all mingling together in a maelstrom of emotion that pulled you toward him.

Then, slowly, you became aware of the world again. The water churned, and you were thrown from the Cauldron’s depths, gasping and shivering on the cold stone. You coughed, the taste of iron and salt lingering in your mouth, and your vision slowly cleared to reveal the horrified faces of the Inner Circle.

Azriel was the first to reach you, his wings unfurling to shield you from the world. His hands were gentle but frantic as he checked you over, his shadows swirling around you both protectively. “You’re alive,” he breathed, relief flooding his features as he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a desperate embrace.

You clung to him, your body trembling from the aftershocks of the Cauldron’s magic. “I thought… I thought I wasn’t going to make it,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Azriel held you tighter, his wings forming a protective cocoon around you both. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Around you, the Inner Circle moved quickly. Rhysand and Feyre confronted the King of Hybern, their combined power crashing down on him like a tidal wave of fury. Cassian, despite his injuries, had fought his way to Nesta and Elain, his protective instincts as fierce as ever.

The King’s forces crumbled under the onslaught, the battle turning in your favor as Rhysand unleashed the full wrath of the Night Court upon Hybern. The King’s smug arrogance evaporated as he realized he had lost control of the situation, the once smug expression twisting into one of fear and disbelief.

Azriel’s grip on you never wavered, his wings a constant barrier between you and the outside world. You could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface, not at you, but at the King and the horror he had subjected you to. The memories of his own traumas, of his brothers and their cruelty, echoed in the way his hands clenched and the way his wings tightened protectively around you.

“I’m here,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against the soft feathers of his wings, grounding him. “We’re both here.”

Azriel’s eyes met yours, a mix of anguish and relief reflecting in their depths. “I thought I’d lost you,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never been so scared.”

You leaned into him, pressing your forehead against his, letting the bond between you pulse with the warmth of your shared connection. “You didn’t lose me,” you reassured him, your voice firm despite the tears that still lingered. “You saved me.”

In that moment, as the battle raged on and the King of Hybern’s forces crumbled, you and Azriel found solace in each other. The Cauldron’s magic had tried to break you, but it had only made the bond between you stronger. The world might have been chaos, but within the safety of Azriel’s wings, you felt whole and protected.

As the Inner Circle regrouped, victorious but worn from the fight, Azriel kept you close. His protectiveness was as fierce as ever, his eyes scanning for any lingering threats. But for the first time since the battle began, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that no matter what came next, you and Azriel would face it together.

You were his mate, his equal, and nothing—not even the Cauldron’s wrath—could tear you apart. And as you stood together amidst the aftermath of the battle, surrounded by friends and family, you knew that the future, though uncertain, was one you would face side by side with the one person who had always been your anchor, your protector, and your greatest love.

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x oc #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #acotar reader imagine #Spotify

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aromanticgarbage · 3 months ago

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youtube

#this video genuinely has me on a chokehold i can watch it like ten times consecutively and i still laugh like a madwoman every time.#god save me #joji #george kusunoki miller #joji miller #Youtube #video #h3h3 podcast #his face.....the perfectly framed reaction.....ethans subtle smile......this is a masterpiece

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muraar · 6 months ago

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Precursor

Blissful fools or perhaps it was intentional on thier parts, but something existed between the two of you.

Jiyan x reader. Feat song: like you do- joji

Wc: 2k, gn!reader

Mentions of self-destruction?? i mean its nothing heavy, but the reader is implied to have a destructive resonance ability that causes damage to them as well.

We're not beating the yearning allegations with this one 🗣🗣🗣

Moonlight seeped over the marred backdrop, bathed in the silvery incandescence, the previously war-torn land looked …serene.

A quaint stillness presided over the expanse, an aftermath they ever ardently sacrificed for, a respite attained through blood and hardships alike. Vestiges loomed over in memories and corporeality alike, but this night, tonight, languid in its wake, made it all the more absolute what it is that they truly fought for.

The air felt crisp and clean; a cool breeze blew from the west, carrying with it a scent of wood mingled with earthy dirt and the lingering trace of the campfire. The sky above, clear and bright, held no clouds and offered a magnificent display of stars scattered across the horizon, twinkling against the velvet black void.

It wasn’t often that the General of the Midnight Rangers found himself in such a peaceful pace, so much so that he allowed his eyes to close momentarily, savoring the sensation before slowly opening them again.

The forested hillside stretched on as far as his eye could see, a dark blanket concealing most of the area beyond, though a few small lights dotted the landscape.

“Come here often?”

Interposed in your mirthful voice, followed soon after by lazy footsteps as you approached him on a leisurely pace, taking measured steps and being mindful of the support sling over your contused left shoulder. Remnant from the recent clash with Overthrax, one that you hoped to don as a proud medallion one day.

Startled slightly by the sudden intrusion into his thoughts, Jiyan turned around. His golden eyes met yours, reflecting a mix of surprise and relief at your presence. The moonlight played across his angular features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Despite the weight of recent events, there was a hint of warmth in his expression.

“[Name]”

He acknowledged, a faint frown etched on handsome feathers as he took in your oncoming figure

“You should be resting”

His tone was laced with concern that threatened to suggest more than just camaraderie, belying a fierce need to ensure your safety and well-being, which was countered with a light and easygoing chuckle of your own, its timbre reverberating against the tranquil backdrop of the night.

“You worry too much”

Came your smooth and curt reply, as you continued your trek toward the teal-haired man, taking nimble footsteps until you stood beside him. Eyes gazing over the expanse laid bare before you, one functional hand reaching out to grip the reinforced railing as you leaned your weight over the cool metal.

Jiyan watched as you moved towards him, the ease of your gait suggesting a familiarity with pain that made his chest tighten.

“Worry is my duty,”

He responded quietly, turning his attention back to the breathtaking panorama before them

“And perhaps a personal failing.”

His eyes flickered towards you, tracing the curve of your profile against the dark skyline

“Only because you don't seem to worry nearly enough”

A commonly used and familiar jab at the reckless abandon and lack of self-preservation that followed you every time you set foot in any physical confrontation. You shook your head and let out a sharp breath, smiling inwardly at being chastised like this; it's not like you voluntarily choose to have the resonance power associated with risks. But then again, research directed that resonator abilities were influenced by personal experiences and the subconscious. So perhaps….you weren't completely out of incrimination for these maladaptive tendencies.

It would be amiss to deny the thrill you felt when your life was on the line, increasingly fluctuating odds fueling adrenaline-infused nerves. There was something incredibly exhilarating about self-destruction. Perhaps the way you could feel your heart racing whenever someone threatened you was a form of excitement, or maybe you were just addicted to the chase and had become so entranced by the thrill of danger you'd given up on ever feeling truly safe and secure-

“It's hard not to care.”

Stern words broke through your impromptu round of introspection and seemed to slip out involuntarily, carrying a weight that surprised even himself. There was another short pause, filled with both contemplative and thoughtful stillness, only broken by the soft rustle of trees against the night wind.

You stood still for just a second or so, facing the moonlight expanse, yet your mind was anything but focused on the twilit spectacle.

“I don't worry…because I don't have to”

Maneuvering and turning your head slightly, your eyes met his protective depths of golden met with resolute ones of your own. The air seemed to be still, and time slowed even as the moment stretched on.

“You worry enough for the both of us”

The words left your lips with such ease because, and it was easy, intuitive almost. Somewhere along the lines, along the countless battles faced side by side, it had become second nature for you. Blindly, irrevocably, heading first into the belly of the beast, you threw yourself into the gallows, tested the lines between this world and the nether relm, just like your forte circuit demanded of you.

Danger nipped at skin and mind alike. Each confrontation translated into an intimate play between you and death, and every time you bid farewell to her for a teal-haired anchor that tethered you to the land of the living.

Was this what people defined as co-dependency? A reckless warrior and a general with concern ingrained into his very being?

Breaking off the intense eye contact you looked down at the injured limb, cradled underneath meticulous bandage work.

“And I don't regret risking myself”

The confession was resolute, perhaps careless even as the wind tussled through your wild locks, as if nature acknowledged your tempestuous nature.

His gaze lingered on your face, studying the lines etched by time and trials, wishing he could somehow protect you from further harm while acknowledging the futility of such thoughts. His mind pondered after a moment's pause, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside him.

“But there comes a point when caution becomes necessary for survival.”

He sighed deeply, hands clutching the railing a bit too forcefully.

“I don't want to see you hurt”

The unspoken plea hung heavy in the air between them, a testament to the depth of unspoken words.

“Careful there, General, you might just start graying with how much you stress out.”

Came your lopsided reply, cutting clean through the heaviness of the conversation at hand.

Jiyan couldn't help but chuckle softly at your jest, the sound rolling off his tongue with surprising ease. Yet, the humor did nothing to dispel the underlying tension that seemed to permeate every aspect of their interaction.

“Better me than you”

He admitted ruefully, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“But seeing you safe and well is worth every strand of gray.”

His gaze locked onto yours, the sincerity in those golden orbs impossible to miss.

An amused chuckle escaped unsuspecting lips, crescent crinkles emerged around your eyes as you entertained the notion just spoken of.

"That's...awfully sentimental. Tell me, have you been watching those hero plays?"

Using the moment of inquiry, you turned around unsoldierly, leaning back until your shoulder blades rested against the railing that had grown accustomed to supporting your weight.

Jiyan arched an eyebrow at your comment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.*

“Hardly,”

He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just stating facts.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though the intensity in his gaze betrayed the casualness of his words.

“We've been through too much together for me not to care about your wellbeing.”

The admission hung heavily between them, punctuating the charged atmosphere with its weighty significance.

His words caused a soft smile to emerge upon your lips, as a foreign warmth bubbled beneath sternum and the organ that rested underneath.

"Been through enough to elicit care and worry...but not enough to have faith in my abilities?"

Jiyan's expression softened at your words, a flicker of guilt flashing across his features before being swiftly concealed behind a mask of stoicism. He leaned into your side, closing the distance between you two, until only a sliver of moonlight escaped from the rift between the parted lips.

“I do have faith in your abilities,”

He said earnestly, meeting your gaze head-on.

“It's just...hard to watch someone so dear go through pain and suffering.”

You let out a sharp breath; the air being forced out of your lungs as you felt your chest spasm and convulse, your demeanor tempered by the sheer discipline ingrained in your very being.

“Pain and suffering, huh?”

You mused as the conscious reeled through the twists and turns that led and shaped your life as it is today.

The life you chose.

Or was it the one fate forced you to tread on?

All these years on this planet and the real depths of your impulses eluded you still.

“They seem to be the staples of this life though...and better me than some poor innocent soul out there”

But at least there was reassurance that your hands of violence were good for something. At least there was consolation in the fact that your fists weren't merely tools meant to tear apart lives, they were weapons that protected. And if you were destined to die young in battle it was best to die doing your part. To die with honor, a worthy cause.

To die as someone who had earned the privilege of a life worth remembering.

Jiyan nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered your words.

“You're not wrong”

He conceded after a moment's pause.

“And I suppose it doesn't make sense for me to shield you from everything. And I'm aware of the irrationality of my sentiments. But know this - every time you're hurt or put yourself in danger, it feels like a part of me is ripped away.”

His voice was heavy with emotion, belying the depth of his feelings for you.

“Then give it to me”

Words rolled past your lips with no premonition of consideration behind them, instinctual, thoughtless.

"Join that part with me,"

Your voice a brazen whisper, its emergence a stark act of rebellion against modus vivendi dictated by logic alone.

"so that it's never ripped away again."

Those words imitated a dare, challenging fate and hearts alike.

Jiyan's heart raced as he gazed deeply into your eyes, feeling the weight of your words settle heavily upon his soul. A thousand unspoken promises danced between them, their connection forged by shared experiences and a bond that transcended mere camaraderie. Something primal stirred within him - an ancient longing that transcended reason and logic alike.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he leaned forward slowly until his lips brushed lightly against yours.

“I want to be connected to you…more than anything”

He whispered hoarsely against your mouth, feeling a surge of heat course through his veins at the contact. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt the warmth of your breath ghost across his face, the tantalizing scent of your perfume filling his senses.

Just as lips were about to touch, a shrill beeping sound pierced through the silence. Both of them froze mid-movement. Their Pangu terminal vibrated on both ends. The holographic screen flashed with an urgent message from the city: Incoming threat detected.

The spellbinding moment shattered like fragile glass underfoot, scattering fragments of desire and passion across the floor. Leaving them both gasping for air like fish out of water. Jiyan blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the lingering effects of their near-kiss.

The message was clear: duty called.

Without another word, he turned to face you fully – only to find that you had vanished without a trace, leaving behind a gentle tussle of wind and torn bandages, in your wake.

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

a/n

Jiyan convene fucked me over so badly. i cannot even tell you, because its downright embarrassing.

just know that i have him now, somehow.

mans not getting any happy ending from me 😒😒😒. Keep pining and yearning you mf !!! YOU AINT GETTING LAID !!!

#jiyan x reader #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa jiyan #jiyan #🔅Writes #wuwa imagines #jiyan x you #wuthering waves imagines

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neighbourscat · 2 months ago

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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 , nicholas alexander chavez

MY BOOGIE SHOES, JUST TO BOOGIE WITH YOU.

𓈒 ˙ ꪆৎ ꣹ ۫ 𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . screen actor!nicholas c. X stage actress!black!fem!reader.

+ synopsis. dancing around your new york apartment with your boyfriend, nicholas chavez, after a tiring final show.

+ cw. mature language & suggestive stage dancing … but none, really (: just smiles, dancing, and good music!

+ nali’s notes; i love 70s-80s music soooo much. dreaming of a cold autumn / christmas fic in this tiny nyc apartment. all the short stories that’ll probably come from this nyc apartment, like a little tv show. the neighbours would have their own backstories & cute interactions. omg should i do that???? a nyc apartment series, kind of like friends or martin??? wordcount :: 2.1k+

+ to be played: dancing in the dark, bruce springsteen. || alternative: slow dancing in the dark, joji. + everybody wants to rule the world, tears for fears.

MY BOOGIE SHOES, JUST TO BOOGIE WITH YOU.

he moved his left foot backward in a smooth motion, sliding across the slick, slightly scoffed, pine theatre stage. two blue overhead spotlights had shone down onto him, highlighting and allowing the golden sequins along his black-costume pants to sparkle and glimmer. the sharp, metal heels of his four-taps no longer producing sound . .. . the active trumpet-players, acoustic guitarists, and drummers eased and eased their instruments into a low twinkle —

— the audience knew what time it was. another character was about to be introduced. in the orchestra pit, the conductor quickly switched her attention to the violinists and flute-players, baton up in the air and readied for the new entrance. the elder english woman gave the group a small cue, flicking her wrist in beat: 1, 2, 3, 4. and as the violins, violas and cellos came in quiet and steady . .. . the male dancer at the far end of the stage reached up and slowly removed the costume fedora from his neatly styled hair, staring over to his stage left.

your beautiful, brilliant and glittery gold mary-jane style tap shoes clicked as you gracefully entered from stage left — the gold fringes of your body-con mini dress flapped and swung every which way as you rolled your costume glove over your right hand, the music coming from the violins and flute-players transforming into something hot and seductive.

your glove snug — the trumpets have returned, this time with the trombones and horns, easy and gentle — with what looked to be absolutely effortless, your body control impeccable, you swayed toward your dance partner. and once as close as rehearsed, you slid your left foot backward; lining yourself up with your partner, you raised your arms neatly, fingers almost wiggling.

your partner snaked an arm around your waist, his opposite hand sensually caressing the under side of your arm — his fingers tightened on your ribs. you felt his plump lips brush against the soft skin of your neck, you don’t hold back a mini smile. and after a thirty-second sleek, clean sequence of sneaky smirks, lustful eyes, gyrating hips, and chasing each other’s feet with mirroring steps on beat — you and your partner stand center stage; he had just spun you out and away and reeled you back in, unable to give you up. you’re overlooking the hungry crowd, toe to toe, hips pressed into each other’s . .. .

the conductor slowly lifted her baton, the orchestra picking up their pace just a bit . .. . more dancers began to take the stage, ten men on one end and ten women on the other, all styled to absolute perfection — you ripped away from your partner, his hand lingering in the air as you hurry toward the women. you strike a pose and the women behind you follow suite, just as clean and precise. the men chuckle amongst themselves, lips moving but nothing being said. your partner took his place in front of the men, eyeing you down.

the blue spotlights went out and back in on beat; this time colored red. the percussion picking up intensity . .. . the atmosphere no longer showcasing love and attraction, but lust and obsession — the red spotlights darkened and blinked in and out powerfully, percussion played fast and with high energy, the string and horn instruments carried out in unison, background voices sounding . .. .

nicholas chavez, anxiously chewing at the skin of his fingers, watched as the other casted dancers performed with everything they had — his eyes working even harder to follow you around. he stopped chewing at his skin then, trying to focus his eyes on you; he couldn’t do the two at the same time. different variations of gold leotards and ruffled dresses and flown pantsuits, the maracas, xylophone — so much was happening at once. portraying chaos perfectly.

every time he found you, he had lost you just as quick. nicholas shifted in the cushioned chair a bit, mindful of the young woman sitting behind him — the saxophones and trumpets intensified, the gold-clad dancers continued shuffling and leaping up and down and around the large pine stage, metal heels touching down with the beats.

the entire stage was bathed in deep, sultry red light, casting long, dramatic shadows over each dancer — the red hue seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the music, bodies moved with precision and purpose, every step choreographed to build toward the crescendo of the performance. the audience watched in awe — nicholas’ eyes never leaving your amazing form — the dancers' figures sharp and striking against the glowing backdrop.

each dancer’s silhouette was satiny, their limbs cutting through the air like blades as they glided to their spots. and as the music swelled, the dancers reached their final positions, holding their forms in an intense, powerful tableau. their bodies arched and poised, chins tilted upwards with defiance, hands spread in graceful curves or clutched at their hips in dominance. the red light drenching them, casting their figures into stark, dramatic silhouettes — elegant and imposing, yet full of tension.

their shadows stretched behind them, larger-than-life, as if their presence demanded more than the stage could contain. the audience held its breath, the stillness of the final pose amplifying the raw energy. it was a picture of controlled power, desire, and neat mess.

the world beyond the stage faded, and all that was left were the figures frozen in that moment — red and black, light and shadow — a vision of drama and allure, like something out of a fevered dream. then, as the final note lingered in the air, the curtain slowly began to close up.

you were curled up on the couch, still basking in the soft afterglow of the evening. your legs draped over nicholas’ lap, the warmth from his hand gently tracing heart-shape patterns on your ankle. the exhaustion from your final show was settling in, but being home with him — no more hotels, no more cast gatherings, no more living through an intense schedule; eight shows a week — felt like the perfect ending to an overwhelming night.

nicholas shifted beneath you, the faintest grin pulling at his lips. “you know .. .” he hummed casually, “.. . i’ve been thinking.” that was never good. you respond with a low groan, rubbing your tired eyes, “no. i’m not doin’ it.”

“can i-i’ve gotta get it out first before you tell me ‘no’,” he said, nudging your arm. “i don’t want a lot or anything .. y’know, crazy. i just want your help.”

you stopped rubbing your eyes, dropping your hand down into your lap. you gave a look that said: ‘go on’ and he did, giving your ankle a loving squeeze: “i want you to teach me how to dance.” he sounded serious, but you couldn’t exactly tell. you blinked, face and gaze blank and revealing nothing. you turned back to the television, an early episode of glee rolling.

nicholas stood up then, gently moving your legs off of his lap. he reached out his hand toward you. you had performed so beautifully with your dance partner, nicholas wanted to move with you the same. “nicholas .. .” you stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, “sit back down. seriously.”

“come’on.” his brown eyes soft but determined. “just a little bit. five minutes, hmm?” he was hopeful, still waiting for you. “i’ll take anything. anythin’ i can get, okay? i’ll be grateful for whatever.” you shook your head as an answer and laid back into the plush cushion, arms crossing over your chest. “nic . .. . you can’t dance,” you said in a simple, matter-of-fact voice — not trying to be harsh or mean, and nicholas didn’t take it as such.

he knew he couldn’t. “well, baby, that’s why i’m asking you to teach me.” you looked to his big hand; he made a gentle grabby motion twice, urging you — and back up your eyes went. “i can’t teach rhythm.” nicholas dropped his hand with a hoarse grumble. you sighed, feeling your body protesting the idea of getting up, but the way nicholas was still looking down at you, with that mix of earnestness and affection, made you give in. with a groan, you held out your hand — nicholas smiled wide and pulled you to your feet.

“five minutes.”

“all i need,” nicholas confirmed with a silly smile, dragging you over to the other side of the couch. your shared apartment wasn’t spacious, for no apartment was this side of queens, new york. your deep-grey tabby cat, ruby; the world’s most mischievous kitty, climbed back in through the open window and landed on her feet, gracefully. after an afternoon of racing up and down the fire-escape and most of the block ( ruby, though mischievous, was a friendly animal ), she was ready to be in her bed.

her bed; nicholas’ pillow.

“okay, so what’s first?” nicholas clapped his hands together, anticipating the next five minutes. “music,” you said, reaching down for your phone in between the couch cushions. “oh, how about from your show? i really love the gold one, what’s that song’s name?” he went over and picked up the musical’s playbill, flipping through the first couple of pages, “that song .. when you come out for the first time and look hot?” you almost laugh, unlocking your phone and scrolling through your music. “i’m not teachin’ you that, nic.”

“look, baby, if you’re worried about there not being enough room, let’s not worry, we can move this couch around some .. . throw the cat back outside-“ you stopped him right there, “or you can get out?” nicholas laughed at that, apologizing softly, coming up behind you. his hands found your waist and his chin dug into the skin of your shoulder, watching as your finger scrolled and scrolled. your finger touched down then, the bluetooth speaker in the corner coming to life immediately.

it started off as slow, lazy dancing in the living room to random musical theatre soundtracks . .. . the moonlight streaming through the large open windows, casting cool white rays over the hardwood floors — but quickly turned into a party.

you slid in from the hall opening, wearing oversized socks, loose basketball shorts, and a baggy football jersey; from nicholas’ side of the closet, your body rocking to the rhythm. you’re holding a wooden spoon, it’s your imaginary microphone, dramatically lip-syncing to bruce springsteen’s dancing in the dark, your expression playful and exaggerated.

nicholas was in the kitchen, a spatula in his hands and dragging his fingers along the handle as if it were an electric guitar, wearing a goofy grin. he’s wearing fuzzy socks, slipping across the floor, attempting to match your moves, his brown hair messy, his shirt half-tucked — this impromptu dance-off felt as though it had been going on for hours. nicholas moved to you, your energy completely in sync, lost in the fun of the moment.

you twirled away, laughing as you swung around the kitchen island, your socks giving you just the right amount of glide across the floor. you threw a hand up, pointing at nicholas like a pop star mid-performance, mouthing bruce springsteen’s lyrics. nicholas laughed, feigning a swoon, then slid back toward you, pulling you into a silly two-step.

and now you’re in the hallway again, where you’re at his side, arm wrapped around him, shuffling in time with the beat. you and nicholas sing together now, the music barely audible over your screaming voices, off-key but full of love.

you pushed nicholas away with a playful shove — he stumbled dramatically and recovered in seconds, lip-syncing passionately. as passionate as before. maybe even more so.

you end up in the living room, this time nicholas was spinning you around — as you twirl and spin with your boyfriend, the music grew louder. your body moved with his perfectly, not with precision or control, but with the kind of ease that comes from knowing each other so well. nicholas pulled you in close, your face just inches from his . .. . he’s grinning down at you like a kid, heart racing and thrashing cutely.

bruce springsteen faded smoothly into tears for fears — nicholas started his air guitar again and you bounced toward the kitchen, grabbing your wooden spoon again. braids flipped over one shoulder, you lifted yourself up onto the island in time for the first verse of everybody wants to rule the world. swinging your dangling feet and rocking your head side to side to the drums, you sang into the spoon.

and by the instrumental break, you and nicholas are skating through the hall, singing and dancing with reckless abandon, whirling and dipping, in your own little world. you’re breathless, your face flushed with laughter — watching nicholas overdo the solo guitar outro from where you sat on the couch’s armrest. he dropped onto his knees and rolled onto his back, his feet kicking into the air.

and as the strumming died, you collapsed back onto the couch in a heap, panting and drinking from nicholas’ cold bottle of pepsi. you and nicholas both jumped up startled hearing the grating pound of fists at the front door — ruby sprung from where she laid and ran around hysterically, you and nicholas scrambled to get up; you rushed behind the couch to quickly turn the blasting speaker down and he went to the front door. nicholas was squinting through the peephole, “fuck-it’s minnie .. .” ms. minnie from two doors down hated loud noises.

but she hated the young people scattered along the fourth floor even more.

#nali’s ᡣ𐭩 #black writers #black reader #black women #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x black!reader #fluff #dancing in the moonlight #apartment #new york #short stories #short story

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sylusjinwoon · 8 months ago

Text

{ 137 }

like you do.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

notes: this story is going to get so meta, so my apologies in advance. also, despite my status of requests being technically closed, this one was too good to ignore. full request description and story under the cut ♡

p.s. - listen to joji’s like you do.

{ and everyone else… they don't matter now | you're the one i can't lose | no one loves me like you do… }

anonymous said: Thank you for answeringgggg. This gonna be long. Be ready to get bored✨🫶 I keep thinking about your Jinwoo post. The divergent one to be exactly. What I've been thinking is kinda similar theme. What about, a reader who's always there for Jinwoo but not visible? Like she's a system or a quiet constellation that supports him from behind but under shadow. In the early chapter when Jinwoo is running out of coffee. Suddenly he found a thermos inside his bag with a warm coffee. He didn't remember to prepare it, but since it was already inside his bag maybe Jin-ah put it in or he forgot, but it was the readers! Another chance, readers always help him in silence like, sometimes heal him a little by little, didn't want make a big question mark if he suddenly fully healed in a sec right? Helping to take care of Jin-ah and his mom whenever he's not there for them, healing the resident when war so there's no much loss happen and many little things that she do to help him. She gets jealous seeing him asking Hae-in to the amusement park, but what she can do though, she just loves him too much to be happy for him to find love. In the end, when he reaches his happy ending, the reader finds the courage to say goodbye. Whispering to Jinwoo's ear softly, saying goodbye and hoping he'll be happy. Then it felt like a snap for Jinwoo. It's... Warm, it's felt like it's always there, the reasons able to fight every problem and challenge, then it's gone, he doesn't feel complete anymore. This time for Jinwoo for searching readers! 📸📸 Sorry if my English is not good, it's not my first language 😔😔. Just want to drop this idea instead let it run around my mind and make me crazy to thinking Jinwoo and his readers who are always there🫶🫶🫶 Love you, my top list favorite person❤️❤️😼

{ ... }

it was pathetic, really.

sung jinwoo wasn't even someone that existed-

so why was it that your heart raced each time you would see his achingly handsome features against your phone's screen?

why does your heart continue to pound and fill your chest with butterflies with each new volume of solo leveling that came out?

and why did you have to get so jealous, witnessing the pure love jinwoo had in his eyes for cha hae-in?

it was so obvious that you were in love with him; genuinely in love with him despite how he would never be real.

in reality, you were bit of an introverted person, attending university with your head bowed down in a manner that let your peers know that you were closed off and shy. that you never could find the confidence to be your true self while in front of those who didn't know you.

perhaps that was why your heart was so drawn to a character like sung jinwoo. after all, he started out as being known as the weakest in the world; a meek and timid man who hid his anxieties behind a kind smile.

but you loved him all the same.

even when knowing he would never be able to see you-

or how you would never get to feel the safety of his arms around you-

or see the passion in his glowing eyes each time he would protect you from danger.

it would never be a reality for you-

yet still, you cherished jinwoo deeply,

like a lover would.

so, you spend your days reading stories pertaining to him, inserting yourself within these various daydreams as you tricked your heart into believing that he loved you, too.

after all, it was the one thing you could do to assuage the heartache you constantly felt whenever you saw jinwoo chasing after hae-in, even after he reset everything in order to protect the world.

even if you could never be his true lover, no matter how hard you tried to shift into his reality and be with him.

with a heavy heart while being surrounded by the various volumes of solo leveling, you lay still in your bed and put your phone down. you had finished re-reading the side stories that pertained to jinwoo's life after the reset and how his shadow soldiers were so happy that he found hae-in again-

and you had to stop because you felt your throat closing up due to the heartache and jealousy of it all.

feeling the warm tears streaming down your face, you close your eyes and fall into what you hoped would be a dreamless slumber-

only to be proven wrong the moment you lost your consciousness.

{ ... }

[ ... resetting ... ]

[ ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ]

[ now loading ]

[ SUNG JINWOO'S GUARDIAN ]

a strange sensation was felt coursing through your veins, and you awaken with a gasp, feeling your heart pounding as your eyes take in the scenery that surrounds you.

it takes you a minute to reorient yourself, with you standing shakily on your two feet, wiping the sleep from your eyes. you were dimly aware of the translucent screens that block your periphery. but... you weren't paying attention to that.

you allow your eyes to look around, widening upon feeling the sudden nostalgia that fills you. somehow... you knew that you recognized this city. but something felt... off.

for starters, the colors were so much brighter than what you were used to. it was as though the city were made by an artist who was passionate about their drawings coming to life. as you were left feeling awed, all while wondering why this all looked familiar to you was when you finally realized-

you were in seoul, south korea-

specifically, the seoul that was the main setting for solo leveling.

you felt the air rushing out of your lungs in labored puffs, your heart seeming to palpitate out of your chest when you allow your eyes to look in front of you, finally seeing the translucent screen and its message:

[ the system welcomes you... ]

"i... can you understand me?" you were speaking to the screen, feeling your heart jump against your chest when another message appears.

[ yes. i have chosen you to help with the development of the future shadow monarch. ]

you recognize jinwoo's title, ready to say something had it not been for the fact that you saw sung jinwoo himself running past you. your heart was caught in the confines of your throat, seeing jinwoo who had yet been awakened.

even with his frumpy appearance and lackluster clothes, your heart still managed to race for him. his grey eyes was much softer now, not attaining the edge of his post-awakened self quite yet. he was uncertain and shy, but you knew that deep down he had a heart of gold that wanted nothing more than to care for and protect his mother and little sister.

that was the sole trait that never changed-

and you loved him for it.

filled with a longing to be with him, to reach out and touch him, you didn't even think twice when you extended your hands out to him. you wanted so badly to touch his shoulder and tell him how everything was going to be okay-

that all of his dreams (and more) would come true as long as he remained vigilant and brave throughout each trial and tribulations he had to face-

yet the moment your hand was placed on his shoulder, you felt it pass through him…

your eyes became wide once more, looking down at your hands as you saw that they were also translucent. that your appearance seemed to mimic that of static itself, not quite taking a physical form despite how much you knew that you existed in this realm.

[ i am sorry, but i cannot have your existence meddle with the monarch's story. ]

you turn your gaze back to the screens-

back to the system's way of communicating with you.

[ however, i do know that your heart and soul are pure, and that your feelings for sung jinwoo remain true. ]

[ so i will grant you your desire of helping him. the system i have made for you is deeply tied to sung jinwoo. whatever item you wish to give him shall appear as the young man continues to level up. ]

[ do you agree to remain as SUNG JINWOO'S GUARDIAN? ]

"...yes."

your voice suddenly became much stronger now, being filled with a determination that you didn't believe was even possible. just the thought that you were given this chance to be close to jinwoo was enough to bring you an immense amount of joy.

"i accept being his guardian... and helping him whenever he is in need."

[ ... very well. go on and carry out your first mission. ]

with one last nod, you await the system's next message as it read.

[ MISSION 1: FOLLOW SUNG JINWOO TO THE FIRST GATE; CONSTRUCTION SITE ]

already knowing the scene that was meant to play out, you keep your gaze honed in on jinwoo as he quickly crossed the street, with you chasing after him.

your movements were fluid, and you were so happy that the system gave you the ability to fly, allowing you to keep track of jinwoo and where he currently was at all times. you bask in such freedom of flight and stopped when you reached the construction site.

as if flight came as natural as breathing to you, you gently land next to jinwoo, seeing his forlorn gaze each time the older hunters insulted him, referring him to the weakest in the world. all you wanted to do was comfort him, and despite how you knew he would never feel you-

you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.

"it's okay, you will become stronger. and... i will be with you every step of the way." you say while keeping your arms hovered over his shoulders, your lips press against his skin in a phantom kiss while whispering lovingly within his ear.

suddenly, you take notice when he perks up, grey eyes filled with a newfound determination. you weren't sure what happened, but jinwoo seemed to find a bit of confidence as he steps closer to the coffee stand and speaks to the worker.

"hi, may i have a cup of coffee?"

the worker gives him a nervous smile while giving jinwoo a gentle shake of his head.

"ah, hunter sung jinwoo... i'm sorry, all the coffee ran out just now."

you watch as a look of disappointment appears on jinwoo's face, hearing him let out a sigh as you quickly called out to the system.

"please, give me a thermos filled with warm coffee, made the way jinwoo likes it."

the system then flashes you a screen, showing you your inventory as a green thermos was seen with the words FRESH COFFEE printed below it. you reach your hand and touch at the screen, allowing the thermos to appear at the palm of your hand before disappearing completely from your inventory.

with gentle movements, you manage to move the thermos filled with hot coffee towards one of the pockets seen on jinwoo's backpack, the sudden weight and appearance of the thermos making jinwoo take a step backwards.

"what the...?!"

you stand off to the side, feeling your heart beginning to race with happiness the moment jinwoo reaches into his backpack and pulls out the warm thermos, his eyes going wide. you couldn't help but gently laugh at his bewildered expression.

he was just so cute to you.

with a smile on your face, you watch as he opens the thermos, taking a swig out of the coffee while letting out a happy sigh. "wow, just how i like it, too. maybe jinah made this for me?"

"i'm really sorry about this, hunter sung jinwoo!" the worker calls out to him, but jinwoo simply smiles back at him.

"no worries! i think my sister packed some coffee for me before she left, so it's fine!"

before you could watch jinwoo enter the gate, you were suddenly pulled back by a force, preventing you from moving forward.

[ MISSION 1, COMPLETED ]

with a look of absolute yearning, you call out to jinwoo,

"STAY STRONG AND BE BRAVE! I BELIEVE IN YOU!"

and for a brief second, before you were ripped away from this tiny portion of his life, you could have sworn that jinwoo turn around to look in your direction-

{ ... }

despite how this all felt unreal to you, you couldn't deny the sheer amount of happiness you felt, being labeled as jinwoo's guardian by the system.

in fact, you had felt so blessed, being a part of jinwoo's most prominent moments in his life.

from his second awakening, being resurrected due to the system's choosing while giving him several side quests and missions-

to helping him heal even the most grievous of injuries when he had to go against kang taeshik-

you were just so elated by it all.

never once did you leave his side, using your own system in hopes of making jinwoo's life easier.

[ COMPLETE ]

it was strange, but each mission that was given to you was tied deeply to your desire to help and protect jinwoo. whenever jinwoo had a need for a certain potion or elixir to help with replenishing his stamina or mana (especially during his earlier stages of leveling up), it would always mysteriously appear in front of him.

and during the moments where jinwoo showed his concerns for his mother and the well-being of his little sister, you would always stay behind and make sure that they were doing well. you knew that someday soon, jinwoo would make the holy water of life for his mother, but still kept watch over her to make sure that she remained undisturbed.

you kept going through the motions of his life, and once jinwoo was able to safely awaken his mother, you left jinwoo's side to give him a moment of privacy between him and her. even though you knew what would happen (burning the image of his crying face filled with relief and joy into your memories), it didn’t feel right to intrude on such an intimate moment.

yet you leaving the scene in the hospital suddenly brought you to a different part in jinwoo's life.

it had to be sometime after his mother's awakening, as jinwoo was seen dressed in all black. his hair was blowing gently with the wind as he remained seated on top of a building. his eyes were glowing, and it seemed as though he was waiting for something. you trail your gaze up towards the skies, seeing it being painted in an ominous, glowing violet hue.

you suddenly felt a strange pang against your chest, recognizing this scene as being the one that made you so jealous that it hurt.

it was the scene where jinwoo ask hae-in out to the amusement park before showing her the starry skies.

you watch with your heart clenching so painfully when he chooses cha hae-in's number and gives her a call, his voice filled with a gentle fondness as he asks if she was free. knowing what would happen in the chapter, it was clear that she would drop her training, just to be with him.

despite how you felt your throat clenching in response, you were given little time to react as the scene suddenly shifts once more, leaving your form cast to the side as you landed haphazardly against the street of the amusement park.

you could feel the heat dyed against your cheeks, finally grateful that no one could see you. you look to your front to see jinwoo and hae-in walking together, feeling your heartache reach even new levels. surrounding you were people who looked at the two hunters with awe, clearly admiring them as they stepped aside and made room for them, allowing them to walk freely around the amusement park.

if you thought reading this chapter was difficult, then your past self was dead wrong-

for witnessing this in action hurt far worse than this.

you shake your head just then, fighting back your tears as you stood back to your full height. with a determined nod, you take to the skies once more, following the future couple as they continued their endeavors within the amusement park.

you kept your focus on jinwoo, ignoring the pain in your heart each time hae-in was beside him.

like a movie playing out on the big screen, you watch as they rode every ride the amusement park had to offer. their expressions were left blank and filled with a boredom, not feeling the thrills like normal people would.

in fact, the scene was so funny and cute that you couldn't help but laugh.

after spending a few hours tailing from close behind them, you follow jinwoo and hae-in as they had lunch together.

"are you getting bored?"

"hey, no. i'm having fun."

hae-in admits to jinwoo while taking sips of her soda.

you could hear the amusement in jinwoo's voice when he asks, "then how come you haven't cried or screamed at least once?"

he sighs while playing with the straw of his own drink, resting his cheek against the palm of his hand while stating, "the games are a bit 'slow', aren't they?"

"hm, ah... yes..." there seemed to be a bit of an awkward silence when hae-in trails off.

suddenly, your heart was felt clenching once more when jinwoo gives hae-in a charming smile.

"so should we get on to something more exciting?"

her blush was evident, and you could barely breathe when the scene shifts once more.

you were back to the skies now, with jinwoo and hae-in riding on one of his shadow soldiers, a large dragon that flew across the heavens while seeming to cut through the setting sun with its shadowy wings. even as the tears were felt streaming down your face, you couldn't deny that such a scene was utterly beautiful to you.

you could not hear a single word that was being said between them, but you recall their words clearly from reading it so many times, back when your pain felt so fresh- just like an open wound against your heart.

you continue to hover above jinwoo and hae-in, allowing your tears to fall down against his cheek as his eyes seemed to widen in response.

"what... is it raining?" jinwoo trails his eyes up at the sky, and you had to move away from them as hae-in gave jinwoo a questioning glance.

"no, there are no clouds... it's not raining at all."

forcing your heart to calm down its rapid beats, you let out a shaky breath, wondering if somehow...

he could feel you after all...?

you shake your head at the thought and continue to follow them, knowing exactly where jinwoo planned to take her as the scene shifts for you once more. you watch as they arrived at a gorgeous meadow surrounded by the gentle forest, remaining up high in the sky as they admired the stars together.

"system... could you do something for me?"

[ of course. ]

you close your eyes and allow the tears to freely fall now. "summon a meteor shower... a show of the stars and heavens themselves for the lovers to enjoy."

[ as you wish. ]

you allow the system to summon a gorgeous meteor shower, hearing hae-in's gentle gasp while looking up at the stars. streaks of light trailed behind each meteor as the starry skies seemed to glow in response to the strange and ephemeral phenomena.

"it's so... beautiful."

your smile was filled with a hidden sadness, yet you couldn’t deny just how happy you felt being able to do this for him. and as you look over to see jinwoo's own reaction, you felt your heart stop in response.

for he was not looking at the skies or the falling stars-

he was looking directly at you.

"yes... beautiful."

yet before you could even speak, you saw the system's message as you were pulled away from the moment once more.

[ COMMENCING FINAL MISSION: FAREWELL ]

your heart was pounding as the tears fell freely down your face, suddenly taken to what looked like a more peaceful time.

your feet were staggering, trying to maintain your balance when you take shaky steps against the sidewalk. the sun was setting, and you saw what looked like jinwoo in his university years, standing with hae-in as he spoke to her while admiring the setting sun.

you knew what you had to do. now that you had done what your heart had always desired to do, you step closer to jinwoo to whisper in his ear.

"jinwoo, even though i am certain that you never saw me, i thank you for giving me this chance to be with you... to help with making your life even the tiniest bit better."

you let out a sniffle before shakily continuing,

"you have always been a sole source of comfort for me, and i know i need to take this chance and let you go so you can find the happiness that you deserve."

as jinwoo continues to smile down at hae-in, hanging on to her every word, that was when you let your tears fall once more before telling him one last time.

"i love you, and i'll always wish for your happiness."

with those finally words set free from the depths of your heart and soul, you felt a warmth filling you, with your form disintegrating into thin air as you felt your consciousness slowly return back to your world. yet even though you knew you would never see him again, you felt... content-

at peace, even.

[ well done, it is time for you to awaken... ]

the last thing you recall was seeing a blinding light… allowing your body to bask in its brilliance one last time…

{ ... }

there was a sudden emptiness felt within the depths of sung jinwoo's heart-

and he wasn't sure what was wrong with him.

jinwoo was never the same after he lost... something; even after he had used the cup of reincarnation while proceeding to live his life as a normal human being, there was a gaping hole left within his chest.

he remembers the feeling of a warmth surrounding him; of the sounds of a gentle voice calling out to him while encouraging him. it may have been silly, but...

jinwoo developed a great courage and strength thanks to that gentle voice alone.

yet now, he felt as though he had suddenly lost it.

no longer did he feel such warmth coursing through his veins. no longer could he feel that comforting presence that made his courage soar to new heights-

heights that he never could believe he could even reach.

such feelings of emptiness was what ultimately made his heart feel closed off from those that he loved...

from his parents and sister...

from cha hae-in.

he spent the following days being lost in a trance, and he didn't know what to do to feel whole again.

"my, i did not believe that the loss of her presence would affect you so deeply."

jinwoo lets out a gasp, suddenly finding himself within the same meadows ashborn had confronted him in; the moment he had died and was fully reborn as ashborn's successor- the shadow monarch.

the wind was felt coursing through his hair, and he could not bring himself to speak to ashborn, eyes losing what little light it once had.

had he fallen asleep? was that why he was back in the land of repose?

"you are unhappy." ashborn's voice echoes throughout the realm, and jinwoo could no longer ignore him.

"am i unhappy?"

jinwoo was dimly aware of the bitter laugh that escapes from ashborn's parted lips before suddenly changing into someone-

an unfamiliar young woman as his voice takes on her tone.

"have you forgotten? i am you and you are me."

jinwoo recognizes that voice, eyes going wide as he reaches out to the unfamiliar figure-

he was certain he had never seen such a young woman before in his life-

yet that voice-

that resounding voice who always always always seemed to comfort him when his fears had taken over him-

the strange image of the young woman and that comforting voice-

it had to be one and the same.

"who is she?! and... how come i can't seem to find her, or even know her... yet- i-i know her voice! she-"

"the woman hails from another universe, one that is like the world you currently reside it, yet different."

jinwoo could feel his head begin to spin upon hearing such a revelation. "she... she is-"

"she is not from your world. your lives would have never collided had it not been for my intervention."

the young hunter's throat began to turn dry, unable to form a coherent thought when ashborn continues to speak.

"the world she lives in is a safe one; one where the only monsters that exists are simply those selfish humans and their own dark desires. gates and the presence of rulers and monarchs have never touched her world..."

he watches with a fascination, seeing the alluring girl flash him a smile.

"in fact, your whole life may be nothing but a mere story within her world."

jinwoo finally snaps out of it, hands clenched into fists when he asks, "how can i reach her? is there a way for me to be with her with the way i am now? can i use my powers as a monarch to find her?"

"... don't you think it's foolish to give up all that you've known for her?"

ashborn's words were enough to make jinwoo freeze in his tracks.

"think carefully about my words, i told you she comes from a world where beings like monarchs and rulers do not exist.

if you decide to find her; to join her in such a world that is so vastly different from your own, then you will lose your powers as a monarch. you will be reverted back to a normal man.

will you truly give up your peaceful life here? your family, your friends- every battle you have faced will be all for naught if you decide to reach her."

jinwoo allows his hair to fall across his eyes, covering them from ashborn when he steadily asks, "why did you allow her to come here, then?”

a silence was felt permeating at the air, becoming thick with tension as ashborn decided on whether to tell him the truth or not.

"i sent her here, allowing her to live certain moments of your life together solely because of the strength of love she held for you."

that was all the answer jinwoo needed as he met with ashborn's gaze, telling him his answer with a determination seen within his glowing, purple eyes.

{ ... }

you wake up with a start, your breathing coming out in shaky breaths as the tears couldn't seem to stop. with a sigh, you cover your swollen eyes with both of your hands, struggling to catch your breath as you sorted through your every emotion.

you felt happy-

you felt love and adoration-

and the pinpricks of heartbreak coming into full fruition at the memory of jinwoo and hae-in together.

yet perhaps more so than that was the feeling of utter peace you felt after waking up from your dream.

feeling your smile going wide, you decide to wake up and begin your day.

you collect the volumes of solo leveling that you owned, making a note to yourself to buy the next volume when it came out. as you placed the solo leveling manhwa on your bookshelf, you begin to tidy up your room (making your bed and charging your phone in the process.)

it was strange; despite how you were 100% certain that you had been dreaming about being close to jinwoo as his guardian, you couldn't deny how much happier you felt once you woke up. it was true, the heartache was still there, yet you knew that as long as jinwoo was happy-

then you would be happy, too.

letting out a content sigh, you decide that it was high time that you changed your life for the better-

all while using the courage jinwoo had given you to become stronger.

{ ... }

there were rumors going around about a cute new freshman who transferred to your university, and despite how you held zero interest for any new students (because truly, new students came in troves each semester), you couldn't deny that you felt intrigued.

apparently, he was korean, with a face that could match with any current idol. according to the rumors, he had messy locks of black hair and dreamy, grey eyes. several girls had already tried speaking to him, practically throwing themselves at him-

yet he would always turn them down and tell them that he already had someone he liked.

but that didn't seem to discourage the girls (and some of the boys, too) from crushing on this handsome freshman. and admittedly, their antics seemed to greatly amuse you.

after completing your study sessions with your friends, you tell them that you had to go back to your dorm and make some dinner while working on your paper that was due soon. despite how they didn't want to see you go, you admitted to them how you would be too distracted at wanting to talk to them to get much work done.

in the end, they relented and allowed you to leave. you were simply walking back to your dorm, finding safety and comfort from within the street lamps that lit up the sidewalks. as you continued your trek, you look up to see an extremely tall young man walking down in the opposite direction.

the sight of him dressed in a hoodie and jeans makes you stop dead in your tracks, unable to look away from him. he also takes notice of your stance, yet instead of ignoring you and walking away-

he takes several steps towards you.

you were frozen on the spot, left staring up at him as the young man pulls down his hood, revealing unruly locks of ebony hair and a kind smile to you.

"hey, i've been looking everywhere for you."

his tone had a hint of an accent on it, but you couldn't deny that his english was impeccable. his presence made you feel butterflies all across your abdomen, and you weren't sure why that was.

"d-do i know you?"

you hear his rich chuckle echoing throughout the campus as he steps closer to you, allowing his large hand to gently touch at your cheek in an almost tender manner.

he whispers your name all while tracing at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"you do know me... i think you know me better than anyone else in the entire universe."

you then trail your gaze up to his eyes, only to see the perfect grey quality of them.

"sung jinwoo?!" his name comes out as a shock to you, yet before you could even fully process it, he takes you in his arms, allowing you to bury your face within his chest as a sense of relief courses through him.

"you have no idea how utterly lost i felt without you... how much my life had gone stale the moment you had said your goodbyes to me."

words were unable to come from your parted lips, your breathing coming out in ragged gasps as you suddenly felt the tears dot your vision. unable to deny the love you still held for him, you allow your arms to wrap around his back-

almost greedily.

"y-you know who i am?"

jinwoo's chuckle was a light one, and you felt something soft touching at the top of your hair when he admits to you.

"ashborn showed me your actions through the system... and once i realized how you were always there for me, i knew that i could not let you go."

he gently pulls you away from his chest, his eyes filled with emotion as tears streamed down his cheek, "i know that it was selfish of me, giving up everything that i have known just to be with you-

b-but in the end, it was worth it because i know that no one loves me like you do."

unable to hide back your happiness, you lean up to meet with his parted lips in a searing kiss. you could taste the saltiness of his tears as he held on to you, not daring to let you go as you basked in the arms of the man who loved you enough to give up everything he had ever known-

a man who would choose to cross universes, just to be with you.

a.n. - damn, this story was 5k words 🥹 but i hope that this was a story that you dreamt of, sweet reader of mine; one that would help put your daydreams to rest as i tried to bring each word to life. this is unedited, but i promise i'll make any edits after i post this absolute masterpiece of a request

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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