#perhaps I am in the anger stage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

virgoilluminati · 4 months ago

Note

can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

#fanfiction #jude bellingham #leah williamson #womens world cup #england football #englandwomensfootball #womens football #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #judebellingham x footballreader #jude bellingham fanfic #judebellingham #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #euro 2024 #englandfootball #fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagine

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the-scythes-pen · 2 months ago

Text

Love at First Thought (Yandere! Sunday x Reader)

Commission for my amazing friend uwu sorry you had to wait so long for it, but I really hope the ending makes up for it at least..? :>

warnings: manipulation

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"Brother, do you believe in love at first sight?"

What an odd question.

"Hmm? ...No, I don't. Why do you ask?"

"I think the idea is... sweet. Romantic. I was thinking about writing a song about it."

Sunday couldn't even recall the words to that song- a song he's heard so many times and knows by heart. It's like someone had pushed him into a frozen lake; he feels stunned and breathless, and he's sure he broke his cool façade for a second or two.

"Thank you, miss. You certainly live up to the reputation of this place; I am already pleased with your service." His voice was calm and collected as always, but he could feel his heart stutter and butterflies blossom in his stomach. He couldn’t help the curiosity he had- of what you look like when praised.

"A-Ah, thank you Mr. Sunday..!"

You bowed after placing the tray on the table next to his seat. You were cute.

Turning his attention to the empty stage, he took a polite sip of the soothing blend of tea; made specifically and perfectly to the specifications he requested. Yet the tea that always helped him relax now just felt like a surge of restlessness in his veins; the thought that such a pretty thing as you had handled everything personally, from pouring the tea to laying out the snacks…

Sunday never paid much attention to those who served him. Not that he was heartless- no, far from it, he had always been grateful for those who helped him… so why was it so different this time?

(You looked so cute with that blush as you thanked him for the praise. He wanted to see you smile more.)

Sunday found himself falling deeper into thought; the tea assisting in washing over him and carrying him away from the slowly-growing bustle of the venue; the incoming crowd excited to watch his dear sister perform.

He hadn’t noticed you had left him to his thoughts. That was until he heard a muffled voice from the area behind the VIP balcony.

It's not something he hadn’t heard before, the familiar anger of someone berating another they considered “lower”, and all the angel-like man could do was sigh and try to tune it out, lest he get too distracted and too silently spiteful of those who abused others.

Soon enough, everything went quiet, and Sunday silently pondered for just a moment what might have happened. It was just a fleeting thought, before his mind happily wandered back to the memory of you, dressed in such a wonderfully-fitting uniform, the shy glow of praise lighting up your features.

It was as if his thoughts had summoned you, as you made your presence known once more, a new tray in your hands.

“I-I apologize, M-Mr.Sunday… T-The dessert served to you is devil’s food cake, i-instead of chocolate mousse. I-I apologize for my error.”

Sunday turned to see you in the doorway of the balcony area, a plate of said cake in hand and a certain puffiness to your face.

“Oh? That’s quite alright. Either one is fine with me.”

As you walk closer once more to exchange the two cake slices, his eyes follow you hungrily; wanting so badly to learn more about you in some way.

(Perhaps committing your appearance to memory would satiate his desires for now. Hopefully.)

Alas, it didn’t take long for him to notice just why there seemed to be a puffiness to your cheeks- it was in your eyes, too; your cheeks flushed and vaguely tear-stained.

His heart lurched. He curled a fist.

He said nothing, allowing you to silently exchange the desserts before heading into the back once more.

The sound of the crowd began to pick up, signaling the incoming hush that would take over the orpheum.

But his mind was no longer on the show, only a passing thought in the back of his mind for the music that would soon fill the air.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth that no sweet treat would alleviate.

You’re not entirely sure how you got here... but before you stood the Reverie Hotel; the attraction of Penacony, the most popular destination spot in the entire galaxy.

Were you really lucky enough to have caught the attention of Sunday when he had visited your workplace that day? What did you even do to catch his attention? Other then that mistake you had been reprimanded for... you groan in embarrassment at the memory. Surely Sunday would not accept any kind of mistake, and yet...

"Ah, you're here! How wonderful."

That familiar smooth, calming voice... you stop, letting your bag sit beside you as you stand in the lobby- watching your new boss come up to you.

"H-Hello Mr.Sunday! Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"No no, theres no need to thank me." He smiled kindly at you. "Please, come with me, you have your own room on a private floor."

It'd be an understatement to say you were surprised.

"My own room....?"

"Well of course, my dear. You'll need your own room if you're to be working here permanently."

He quickly guided you towards the elevator that went to the VIP floors.

"I hope you are prepared. Being my personal assistant is going to be just as exhausting as my work is."

Sunday gives you a kind smile.

"But it's nothing you can't handle, right?"

You blinked at him. Was he serious? Personal assistant???

...no way. You can't handle this pressure.

"Sunday-"

"Ah ah ah- I already know what you're going to say." He lets out an amused chuckle. "Theres no need to worry, I promise. Just do your best, and I promise things will be fine."

Was this guy for real? First, the two of you meet by chance at one of his sister's concerts, then he somehow finds your contact info and asks you to move to Penacony... and now you're working directly for the head of the Oak Family ?

....It didn't take you long to get adjusted to the new position; even with the many mistakes you made at first, Sunday was never upset. Robin even mentioned that he seemed a lot more lively lately, and attributed it to your assistance.

(Your presence alone would be enough to suffice him.)

And as you got better and better at understanding Sunday and attending to him, he entrusted you with more and more work, more important tasks that needed a careful eye and hand.

("Thank you, my dear. You're as amazing as always." He would say, and give you a pat on the head, that gentle smile always on his lips.)

Then again, sometimes all you needed to do for him was stereotypical office tasks.

"Can you shred this for me?"

Your fingertips gently brush against his gloved ones as he passes you a folder, slightly on the heftier side with multiple pages shoved within.

He doesn't immediately take his hands away, instead he lingers for just a couple moments longer before he finally does. The contact makes your heart skip a beat.

(Sunday is pretty, you can't deny that. And how many times has he praised you for doing the smallest of tasks with that honeyed voice of his?)

The smile he gives you is so, so genuine- something about the folder he hands you makes it feel heavy in your hands, yet the way his smile graces his features so softly and elegantly has you forgetting about the file in your hands.

You give him the same smile you always do lately- one thats slightly dopey from lovesickness.

"Of course, Mr. Sunday."

The two of you part, and theres a comfort that washes over you, as if you know that everything will be alright.

(Why do you even question it? Why do you have that doubt in your heart? Whatever the reason, you ignore it so willingly, simply because it does not fit in with the order of your thoughts.)

Humming a sweet song you heard on the record player in Sunday's office the other day, you head over to the paper shredder.

(It's just like every other paper or file you've been asked to shred. So why do you feel the urge to look in it?)

(It's to make sure that Sunday didn't accidentally hand you a file he may want to keep. He has been quite tired lately, and he's warned you of small mistakes that may be made.)

As if responding to your thoughts, a single paper flutters from the bottom of the folder and onto the floor, like that of a leaf falling off a branch in autumn.

With insatiable curiosity, you bend down to pick it up, your eyes eager to scan over the familiar dark ink of the page.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

That voice comes from somewhere behind you, and you pause. Your heartbeat begins to pick up.

(Why are you scared?)

"My sister once asked me that very question when she was writing songs for an upcoming album."

The angel-like man so nonchalantly enters the room, and it's like you can't even bother to pull your attention away from him.

(Why are you still staring at that paper?)

Heavy hands are placed on your shoulders.

"I told her that I did not believe in such a thing."

His breath ghosts across your cheek from behind, as Sunday peaks his head over your shoulder. He's so, so close to you.

(Your hands are shaking.)

"And yet... when I first saw you at that venue, the one you used to work at- I couldn't stop the fierce beating of my own heart merely at the sight of you."

(Theres a pit of unfamiliarity in your stomach. It feels heavy.)

"In that moment, my dear..." Sunday's hands move down your shoulders, down your arms, grasping your own hands from behind as he effortlessly moves you to place the dossier in the shredder. "...I knew that you were special to me."

Sunday's own hands now move again, pressing the button to turn the shredder on. The machine roars to life with a loud hum.

"I hated that your former supervisor was so cruel to you. To such a beautiful, sweet little dove."

You watch the paper get eaten by the machine, as a white-gloved hand moves to brush a tear from your eye.

(Your tears are from happiness, aren't they?)

(Aren't they?)

"And I knew in that moment that only I alone could protect you."

(A protector, or a jailer?)

He nuzzles his face into the back of your hair, taking in a deep breath. Your hands move on their own now as a quiet whisper permeates the back of your mind.

You place your passport in the shredder.

"You don't know how overjoyed I was to see you had accepted my invitation to Penacony."

His hands smooth up and down your arms so comfortingly. It feels nice. He feels nice.

(It feels nice to be in his arms. It feels like this is where you belong. With family.)

(He's more than family. He's your guardian angel. Someone who loves and cherishes you.)

A sickness swells up in your stomach, but it's squashed by a fuzzy feeling before it becomes anything.

(Your mind feels fuzzy.)

"Forgive me, my love. I could not resist your charms." The man moves his face into your neck, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive skin.

A voice that is not your own falls from your lips.

"Why... are you doing this?"

(What is he doing? What's wrong? Everything is in order, isn't it?)

"Because I have fallen so hopelessly in love with you, darling."

You place your birth certificate into the shredder.

"You belong with us. With the family. With me."

His lips press softly into your flesh. It sends goosebumps down your arms.

"With the order." He murmurs in a low, dangerous tone before he places an open-mouthed kiss to your searing skin.

You place yet another page bearing your name into the shredder.

(Since when did the many voices become just one?)

(When did Sunday's voice make it's way into your head?)

(Or was it there from the very beginning?)

"I alone will bear the weight of my decisions. I alone will protect not just everyone else, but you as well. This, I promise."

His lips feel so, so hot against your skin. So... good.

(When did the thoughts in your head become the words of someone else?)

You make a noise akin to a whimper, and Sunday lets out a pleased hum of his own.

("I love you.")

#star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #reader insert #sunday x reader #sunday x you #honkai star rail sunday #hsr sunday

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la2yn0va · 11 days ago

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soo maybe for next streamer reader, a roommate or something walks on stream while they're playing honkai? doesn't have to be drastic, I just think its pretty funny lol

Reader: Why can’t I get lucky with my relics as I am with my fucking character and lightcone summons?

He grumbled, looking at the horrendous body piece relic he just got. The stats were utterly disgusting to look at, death would be a mercy then gazing upon the trash on his screen.

—Meanwhile, inside the game in the character closet—

Jade: Who would dare mess with the relic stats! Scammer! Is this your doing!!

Sampo: Ah—!! N-not-not at all! I swear it! Haha..~ 😅

Ruan Mei: Could this… blasphemy be the work of Nanook?

Dr. Ratio: Or perhaps it’s Aha’s doing. It’s no secret how they enjoy their… sloppy pranks to gain their graces gaze.

Sparkle: Haaa?! Please. Aha has more class than THIS.

Herta: WOULD YOU ALL SHUT UP!! Any more loud speculations and the prophecy will be in jeopardy!!

—The 4 Characters—

Tingyun: Ahh… This… wasn’t how it was supposed to go down…

Luocha: You’ve been given TOO many chances. No more will you be allowed to conduct your.. ‘business charms’ onto the relics.

Tingyun: AHH! W-wait hold on—!

Blade: Silence foxian. Be grateful you’re allowed to live after such acts.

Jingliu: If it were me, I’d have stricken you down instantaneously for such atrociously disgusting acts.

Tingyun: C-come on benefactors! This is clearly the work of those parasites! My charms NEVER—

—back to reader—

Chatter 1: Get that demon off the screen

Chatter 2: Bro just stop doing grinding for relics 😭🙏

Reader: You guys suck. I clearly need emotion support here and yall—!

Roommate: That fucking relic is gonna increase the damn bills!!

His roommate slams open the door and yells, making m/n yelp and jump, flicking around to see his roommate before sighing in relief and covering his face, leaning on the desk.

Characters: This fucking bitch again!!?

Roommate: Here lemme just do god and Satan a favor~

They walked to his monitor, grabbing his controller/mouse and clicking off the screen, going to the relic inventory and deleting the disgusting relic m/n just acquired.

M/n: Thanks.. man..

Roommate: Any time… literally. Haha~!

M/n: Go fuck yourself

They ruffled m/n’s hair, ignoring the viewers comments and not noticing the 4 characters change their facial expressions into disgust.

To be so blunt and inelegant with their grace… LIVING in THEIR home was… a violation! One worthy of death (they might be jealous)

Blade’s frown deepened into a full blown growl, while the other 3 had their own angered face. Jingliu activating her technique and freezing everything around her besides her 3 companions, Tingyun gaining an electric spark in her eyes, and Luocha preparing his coffin.

Rappa: Evil Samurai, must be eradicated. Ninja master Voidbrone must be saved from such evil.

Argenti: What an ugly spec in the presence of beauty themselves.

Boothill: Tch.. Muddle-Fugder!

Kafka: My oh my… Elio oughta have a plan on how to end this.. creature’s existence.

M/n: You’ve exceeded your welcome, exit stage left fucker.

Roommate: Yeah alright you beta cuck.

M/n: Suck my dick you—!!

-The End-

#honkai star rail #hsr #male reader #yandere #self aware honkai star rail #sahsrau #self aware video game #self aware hsr x male reader #self aware hsr #self aware hsr idea #cult self aware hsr #honkai star rail x male reader #streamer male reader #hsr x male reader #self aware honkai star rail x male reader #cult sahsrau #cult au

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r0b0s-robos · 4 months ago

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animatronic stages of love: 1 - denial - "im not in love! i'm a robot, i cant be in love!" 2 - pain/guilt - "my nervous actions from being around them are making them uncomfortable" 3 - anger/bargaining - "so what if they don't love me?" / "what can i do to get them to love me?" 4 - depression - "it's hopeless, they'd never love me anyway" 5 - turning point - "it's okay, it's all okay. they're here and thats what matters, i can work with this" 6 - reconstruction - "perhaps i am in love and i need to figure out what this emotion even is in order to be a good potential partner(s)" 7 - acceptance - i'm in love

#[r0b0.input]#dca community #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf #fnaf sun #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf dca

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sorrowsofsilence · 6 months ago

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Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his golden brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

#nick folio fic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio smut #nick folio x reader #Nick folio #nick folio bad omens #bad omens smut #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #sorrows of silence #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers smut

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rorah · 17 days ago

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Dimitriverse here. And I'll use it as pretext to talk about Hopes. 'In this essay I will ☝️...'/j I must be one of the few - if not, the only one- (who's not on board with the anti-church propaganda |Just in case: I grew up in an atheist house| and not a Byleth hater either) who actually liked hopes because it supports and enhances houses narrative view (contrary to the common belief that it's the opposite).

Hopes shows a constant comparison between both games. And we know that this universe plays a lot with the parallels between different characters, and relationships. Both similarities and contrasts. Hopes is a contrast, seen from Shez's perspective.

It is established from the beginning that they only see the superficial positive qualities of the leaders, just like general tone presented of this game.

Here I'm going to focus mostly on AM's goal and its contrast in AG.

In AM Dimitri achieves redemption and benevolence through forgiveness and acceptance. These lessons he learns from Byleth - the teacher/ the guide/ the enlightened one (the class enlightened one is mea to alude that who have more knowledge and greater understanding of something, who also aludes to the original aspect of the game. Nirvana. The JP Byleth class) in an indirect way. Byleth in turn gets it from the goddess herself but also their life lessons/experience from GM, and the people surrounding them. WC is an important and crucial stage in Byleth's development, as is the interaction they have with the diverse students they tutor.

The role of Byleth goes beyond a mundane "self-insertion" of the player. Byleth is meant to be a bridge between that goddess and humans: the path to Nirvana.

Both forgiveness and acceptance are mentioned in the game but can go unnoticed due to the level of subtlety they are mentioned, but they are core elements in Buddhism such as compassion and wisdom that serve as a path to inner peace and freedom (specially for the leaders who rule over big factions of people), and breaks the chain/cycle of suffering, anger, revenge, resentment, among others.

And that reminds me of Arval's constant words: "the cycle of this world". What does Arval mean? The cycle of this world… said by an Agarthan "deity", whose only role in the game has been to generate constant conflicts between the inhabitants of Fodlan and beyond perhaps? so that they kill each other. I don't know Joe, something here smells weird -wink wink- (Not to mention it also emphasizes the qualities achieved through Nirvana)

It's Important to understand the importance of Forgiveness and everything involved in the act. Understanding forgiveness, as a spiritual practice, goes beyond simply letting go of resentment. It involves cultivating mindfulness and compassion towards oneself and others. Since the game has heavily references and basis from Buddhism you can grasp it from there (more than Christianity, I'm sure different faits have somewhat different or similar approach to some concepts). But need to mention the act is also applied from a physiological and neurological perspective (in case you're not much of a "fait" person like me. I still like the Buddhism take tho, from a philosophical standpoint💖).

Anyway, Dimitri AM manages to learn those lessons and is not just "to learn to live for himself", which is also important, but it is only possible to achieve it through the through the acts already mentioned: forgiveness, acceptance, compassion, etc. Acts that acts that are practiced externally towards others but which are mostly an act towards oneself. Compared to Dimitri AG where the path chosen is revenge.

Misfortune always dogs the steps of one who gives way to the desire for revenge.

Does he get the answers he thinks he wanted? Yes Did it satisfy him? A Dimitri fan knows it didn't. Can Dimitri's friends help him? No, because they're in a similar situation or under similar believes, and this game displayed it.

Sopilers: No, they won't get anything from getting revenge and certainly doesn't help to move on. Much less Dimitri, who's mental health has only been addressed at the end of a couple of supports. Is Shez a bad person? No! but they help no one and just goes along with whatever the leader says. Is Arval/Epimenides a bad entity? This is where I think, the original concept of the game is applied, the one mentioning. There's no good or bad, only a matter of perspective. But of course, that's something arguable and extense that deserves its own analysis.

At the end of all 3 routes, the war continues (despite having finished off Thales in AG) because the cycle continues. The cycle of anger, of suffering, of revenge, of prejudice, etc. And in my opinion, I think that's beautiful (the comparison, I mean). Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

#Long post #fodlan ramblings and analysis #thoughts on games #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem warriors 3 hopes #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h #few3h #holy kingdom of faerghus #On the other hand #I think my Dimitri paint needs some fixing >__>#artists on tumblr #Disclaimer: i am not an expert in Buddhism principles so take what I said with a grain of salt

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rosietaeyongswife · 5 months ago

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shameless | kim doyoung

AU: angst, fluff, drama, cheating au, readerxtaeyongxdoyoung SYNOPSIS: Marriage was supposed to be your dream. You were in love with Taeyong, until you came to realization that maybe he's not the one. Thankfuly, his best friends was there for you when you needed him the most. WC: 8k TW: cursing, cheating, mentions of sex AU: i do not support any kind of cheating. never. it's a pure fiction. yall i think i've improved my english lol one day i'll fix all my works because lmao yeah enjoy this pls:P

Marriage. How foolish of you to think it's going to be a dream come true. Well, everyone else stated that fact. According to them, marriage is one of the best stages of life. You've reached a certain point in life - perhaps an achievement. Too bad none of them said how much of a burden it can be.

Of course, the first few months were perfect. Dates, flowers, and affection. Isn't this what every woman craves? Kisses, gifts, and affirmations from your loved one. Those things blinded you. Only if you knew back then. Maybe then you would've left. It was your choice to ignore all the red flags. It's been a year, and it's a nightmare.

"Baby, can you do laundry?" You were running late, yet Taeyong does nothing. He could help you, at least. "I have to leave already. I showed you the other day how to do it. Will you do it for me, please?"

Taeyong was playing Call of Duty on the PS4 you've bought for him on his 27th birthday. He was focused on the game.

"Sure. I'll do it."

Without any other word, you left. Sometimes you'd like to smash that PlayStation into pieces. Taeyong does nothing around the house besides playing that damn thing.

It was a late call meeting with your work team. You couldn't focus on the words of your co-workers due to that weird gut feeling. Something deep down felt like something would go wrong. Ignoring this wasn't helping at all.

"Y/N, we want you to manage this project with Chaeyoung. Is that alright with you?" Your boss asked while you were drifting in your thoughts. "We believe your reviews and suggestions would make this successful on the market."

"Of course, I'll handle this."

"Thank you." He looked at the watch. "Okay, it's 9 p.m. We're done for today. I'm sorry we had to hold a meeting. It was a surprise to us too. You can go all home now."

Everyone left in a hurry, and so did you. The weather got worse, and it was raining. You couldn't get cold, so you called your husband. Silence. Again silence. He didn't pick up your calls. All you could do was run and pray that a bus would arrive.

"I called."

"Sorry, baby. I was too busy with the game. Look, I ranked up."

"That's amazing, but it's pouring outside, and I had to walk there by myself." You rolled your eyes at your husband's ignorance. "I'm fuckin tired. I just want to take a shower and go to sleep. Have you done the laundry like I asked you to?"

"Yes. It wasn't that hard." He laughed and turned the PS4 off. "I'm heading to sleep. Waiting for you in the bedroom."

At least he did what you had asked for. Walking in the bathroom was hopeful for you. Little did you know how much anger it would bring you.

"Taeyong! What the fuck have you done?!" Your husband was quick to run back to you. He was looking at you confusedly. "How could you ruin my white shirt for tomorrow? Why would you put red socks together with white laundry?"

"My bad. I'm sorry, honey." He looked at you with his doe eyes. "I didn't notice, sorry once again. I'll give you money to buy a new one."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" You scoffed. "I needed that shirt for work tomorrow. It's past 10p.m, what am I supposed to do? I asked you for one thing, and you managed to fuck it up."

"It's just a shirt, Y/N. You're overreacting. You can buy another one."

"It's not just about the shirt, Taeyong. You don't understand." You went next to him. "I don't have any clothes for work. Fuck."

Taeyong apologized once again and went back to the bed. He didn't really care about the fact that he ruined your shirt and left you alone past 10 pm, looking for clothes for work. He difted away to sleep while you had to hold your anger in yourself and calm down.

Your husband and you both work for the same company. You work in different departments and both of you start work at different hours. Taeyong got up and left an hour before you. As usual, you woke up to dirty dishes on the table and a cup of coffee on the counter. He didn't respect the fact that it was you who was cleaning the whole apartment.

"Look there. I guess you could've described another problem here, and we would put it together." Chaeyoung was taking notes on your words. "Do it, then send me the rest of the thing. I'll try to finish it by Friday."

"Thank you, and of course, I'm doing it."

Mark Lee was sipping on his coffee when he approached you. He was your best friend and best colleague from the company. Both of you go along pretty well.

"Someone's not in the mood today, huh?"

"Mark, please." You stopped on your way. "Don't get on my nerves today. It's not funny at all."

"Sorry, Miss Not in the Mood." He chuckled. "You slept on the wrong side, or what?"

"I slept on the right side."

"Then what happened?"

"Taeyong happened." Mentioning of your husband made your head hurt. "I asked him for one simple thing. Do laundry. That's all! Guess what." Mark was waiting for you to finally tell you the tea. "He ruined my shirt for today. I was tired, hungry, and annoyed, and on top of that, I had to find myself clothes for today."

Mark could only laugh. He was aware of your husband and how clumsy he can be.

"How did he even do it?"

"He put red socks and underwear together with white clothes. The majority of clothes were pijamas, but still. I didn't ask for much. I explained how the washing machine works about ten times!"

"Everyone makes mistakes, but your husband is crossing the line, Y/N. I'd be mad too. Yesterday was a horrible day."

It's almost the end of the month, so everyone is worked up. Every project needs to be finished ASAP, clients are waiting and aren't patient, and on top of that, your boss is scolding you for every little mistake you've made.

"You should be thankful you don't have to deal with it."

Another day went the same way. Today was another hard day, and the only thing you wished to do was fall asleep, but it seems like you won't be able to do that.

"Honey, I missed you."

Taeyong was looking at you with lust in his eyes. Deep down, you knew what he was about.

"Not today, sorry. I had a rough day, I'm exhausted."

"C'mon. I missed you and your body so much." He began to kiss down your neck. "I want you."

Anger was boiling in your veins. It's like you're talking to a wall.

"I told you no, why don't you give up? I'm not in the mood, I had a tiring day, and you expect me to fuck?"

"Fuck, Y/N." He stopped and put his hands into his hair. "We haven't had sex in months, alright? I have my needs, I'm fuckin horny, and I want to fuck my wife. I want us to feel good, yet you're always too busy to do so."

"I fuckin told you I'm tired. You're so, so.." His gaze went upon you. "Pushy. Leave me alone."

"Great."

The last thing you've heard was a door shutting. He left, and God knows when he'll be back. Like a kid. Your husband behaves like a spoiled child. Nothing ever satisfies him, and he wants things his way. Nothing in between.

Once you've been reading about all those unhappy couples who have sex once in a while, don't talk too much, or don't even know too much about each other. They're just together because they get used to each other and are way too comfortable to let go and leave. Little did you know you were going to face the same fate.

"Fuckin hell." You rolled your eyes. Taeyong wasn't picking up your calls when it was an important matter. "Boss, can I go into the marketing department to meet my husband? It's urgent."

He didn't even look up, but he nodded. Men.

The marketing floor was only three floors higher. Of course, you've known the majority of people working there thanks to Lee Taeyong. A few employees passed and greeted you.

Johnny was sitting by his desk, probably busy with his tasks that needed to be done by today.

"Hi, Johnny." He sent you a smile. "Do you know where Taeyong is?"

"Oh, hello, Y/N. Shit. I think he might leave for a lunch break with Jaehyun and Yuta."

"He did."

The voice was familiar to you. Turning your head, you saw no one else but Kim Doyoung. Your husband's co-worker and best friend.

"Fuck. Thank you, guys."

"Something did happen?"

"I wanted to ask him to drive me to Kun's bakery. It's Jaehyun's birthday in two days, but they need me there today. I guess they couldn't find a sample?" Doyoung was looking at you with his soft eyes, while you were stressed. "Nevermind. I'll go."

"Wait." Doyoung grabbed his coat. "I'll drive you. It's no problem for me. I'm on the break anyway."

Your whole body relaxed at his words. Somehow you felt different, because Taeyong usually rejects your requests, but Doyoung? He agreed right away.

As both you and Doyoung were on your way to Kun's bakery, Taeyong called you a few times. Asshole.

"Thank you, really. You have no clue how much this matters to me. You saved my day, Doyoung."

"No worries, I mean, I'm just driving you to the bakery. It's not hard, or something."

"I fear some people wouldn't agree." Doyoung glanced at you for a second. "Nevermind. Thank you, again. I bet Taeyong doesn't even remember we booked a cake at Kun's."

Both of you laughed at your remark. Doyoung was aware of how clumsy and nonresponsible his best friend can be.

"It wouldn't be Taeyong if he didn't forget about such a thing. But hey, look at you. You're about to solve a problem with Kun and come back to work, and you didn't need Taeyong's help."

"Wow, I'm so independent now. Not like you drove me there, at all."

Kim Doyoung was a year younger than Taeyong. Both of them have known each other since high school. Then they applied to the same business school where you met Taeyong. Both of them graduated and found a job at Lee Sooman's company. Like you did. Doyoung was different than Taeyong. He was clean, tidy, and he could cook. Everyone could depend on him when needed. He never let any of your friends down. Never. If you needed help, you should've called Doyoung. He was stylish and looked like an old-money guy. None of your friends, nor you, have seen him date. He probably had a few girlfriends, but they weren't serious, as you guessed.

"Well, I can pay you for-"

"Y/N, please." He stopped you mid-sentence. "Don't pay me at all. I had a great time picking a cake with you."

"Me too, Doyoung. Again, you're wonderful."

Taeyong was looking at you through the window of his office. He was calling you for an hour, and he had no response from you. He was a bit worried, but as he saw you with Doyoung.. He was relaxed.

Mark was smiling from ear to ear. He saw you coming into the building with Doyoung from the marketing department.

"What were you doing with Kim Doyoung?" He was moving his eyebrows in a funny way. "He's cool, right?"

"I had an emergency at Kun's bakery, yet my lovely husband wasn't picking up my calls." Mark scoffed. "He gave me a ride, and yes, he's a cool guy."

"Jaehyun's birthday, right?" You nodded. "I bought him a watch, and what about you and Taeyong?"

"I don't know. I was supposed to buy a cake, Taeyong is going to buy a gift. Please, I wish he had already done that."

Jaehyun's birthday is always a party at his house. He invites a whole friend group on the weekend, and makes a dinner. Everyone is drinking and having fun together. It was supposed to be an amazing day, but only if your husband didn't ruin it the day before.

"What do you mean you forgot?" Taeyong was stressed too. He knew he was meant to do something, but he had no idea what exactly. "Taeyong, you promised me you're going to buy him a gift!"

"Fuck, I forgot! Couldn't you do it? I'm busy with work, so it wouldn't hurt, Y/N."

"Are you kidding me?" You put on your coat. "I'm also working, I'm cleaning and cooking, I ordered the cake for Jaehyun's birthday, and both of us agreed that you're going to buy a gift!"

Every favor you're asking Taeyong for, ends in the same way every, fuckin, time. You can never depend on him.

"I help you too! Don't make me look like I'm some kind of lazy jerk. I simply forgot, things happen, okay."

"And what are we going to do? Are we going to show up with a cake for his 27th birthday and say sorry, but Taeyong fucked up once again?" The sarcasm in your tone was noticeable, and your husband wasn't a fan of it. "Do you even know what he likes?" Taeyong couldn't answer as he had no thoughts. "I knew it. God."

"Where are you going? It's past 8pm, and it's freezing outside?"

"None of your business. Clean after dinner. That's the last thing I'm asking you to do."

Cold February nights like this make you wonder about your life. Lately, both you and Taeyong have been fighting. You couldn't even remember when the last time both of you exchanged "I love yous". Are your friend's marriages the same? Do they fight a lot? Do they fight every day? Do they overcome it? To you, it seems like an endless circle.

Luck was with you tonight, because the old vinyl shop was open until 9. You made it on time to buy a jazz vinyl record for Jaehyun. He was a huge fan, everyone knew it, except Taeyong.

"That's a hundred dollas, mam."

The last shop you're going to visit is one owned by Haechan's uncle, who sells prestigious wines from all around the world. It was just a few blocks away.

As you were looking for a wine thatJaehyun hasn't tried yet, you've noticed familiar sillhouete.

"Doyoung?"

"Y/N?" He turned back with a gummy smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Emergency. Again."

"Mark mentioned that Taeyong was supposed to buy a gift, right?" He was visibly confused. "Then why are you here?"

"Key word 'supposed'."

For the first time ever, Doyoung felt bad for you. He always thought that you're a couple goals. Back in the day, you couldn't shut up about Taeyong. Either of you, were talking about each other, still in love. Taeyong never complained, nor did you. To be honest, every single one of your friends thinks you and Taeyong live your dream lives. Only Mark knew it was total opposite.

"I mean, maybe he was tired? Everyone works hard these days, people tend to forget things at times."

"Doyoung, please." You laughed sacristically. "I agree, but Taeyong always forgets about something. Doesn't matter if he's tired, or not."

For the time being, Doyoung had no explanation, nor could he defend his friend.

After a few minutes, Doyoung helped you pick a wine and took you home. It was another time he saved you. He was kind enough to drive you home.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N."

"See you too." As you were about to go into the building, you turned around. "Again, thank you."

Taeyong was asleep in the living room with a TV on. Typical of him. You looked over, and once again, Lee Taeyong disappointed you. The dishes were in the sink, not washed. You put the gifts down and did the dishes yourself.

Morning was a tense one. Neither of you speaks to yourself. The only thing you said was that you're going to pick up the cake by 5 pm. It was Saturday, and both you and your husband had a free day. Taeyong was probably waiting for you to make a lunch or something, but it wasn't your plan. You made yourself some waffles and ate them by yourself.

"Where's some for me?"

"Don't you have hands? Do it yourself."

He was looking at you in disbelief. Taeyong was used to you cooking and serving him food.

"Why are you bitching? I've already apologized. What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'm not bitching. I just made lunch for myself." He was getting annoyed with you. "It seems like I'm some kind of housewife to you. I'm not. Learn to do things yourself."

By 5pm, both of you were getting ready. It's been a long time since both of you went together somewhere. Taeyong stopped asking you on dates long time ago. Of course, you missed those silly dates. Your husband doesn't put effort in.

Taeyong was waiting for you in the car, while you put everything into a bag. One last look into the mirror, and you were looking pretty. In your eyes, everything seems fine.

"What are you wearing?" Taeyong almost burst laughing. "Honey, go change yourself, I don't think you look the best in such a dress."

For a moment, you felt stupid. Your own husband laughed at your look, even though you thought you looked great. A knee high, black dress and boots with a coat. Everyone was wearing that. It was a cute look.

"What do you even mean?"

"It's not made for you, I guess? I don't know, I just want to help you to not get emberrased."

"Oh, fuck you, Taeyong."

There was no time for changing, besides, you felt cute. A month ago, you would've run into the apartment to change but not today. You tried to ingore peaks Taeyong took. He hurt you. You thought you could ignore it, but as soon as you arrived, your self esteem was six fit under.

"Hey guys! Wow, Y/N, you look stuning!" Jaehyun welcomed you with a kiss on the cheek. "Suit yourselfs."

Jaehyun complimented you, but inside of your head there were Taeyong's words.

In the living room, everyone was waiting until Haechan would arrive with his fiance, Jimin. Johnny was sipping on a coffee with Sooyoung. Taeil was taking photos with his wife, Joohyun. Yuta, Jungwoo and Jaehyun were making food. Mark was laughing with his girlfriend, Soyeon. Doyoung was looking at you and Taeyong, when both of you arrived. Doyoung couldn't stop himself from looking at you. This dress complimented your body and your bueaty the best.

"Everyone let's drink. It's our Jaehyun's birthday." Johnny stood up with a glass of champagne in his left hand. "I can't believe you're already 27. We're all happy to be here and celebrate with you, dude."

The party was going great, everyone had fun, and none of the guests seem to be annoyed, or not having fun. Taeyong found himself sitting with Yuta playing games and drinking beer.

"Men are like children." Joohyun sat down next to you on the coach. "I can't believe they're almost in their 30s."

"Don't tell me that. Look at them, they're playing on the PlayStation as if they were teenage boys."

"At least we can have some time to ourselfes."

Joohyun was right. She was with Taeil since freshman year of the college. She was three years older than Moon Taeil and she was one of your closest female friends. Everyone looks up to her, since she was the oldest one in the friend group.

"Can I ask you something?" Joohyun looked at you waiting for your question. "Do you fight with Taeil often?"

"Hell yes! We fought in the morning because he didn't clean the bathroom like I asked him to."

"Did he do it after you had scolded him?"

"Of course. What kind of question is that?" She laughed at you, but you were dead serious. "Wait. Doesn't Taeyong do the same? You know, if you scold a man, then he's kind of irritated, but do it anyway out of respect for you."

"He doesn't. You see, I asked him to do something. I show him how to do things properly, so he won't have to need my help. I explain it like I'm speaking to a child. I do it about ten times per chore." You giggled at yourself. "Guess what. He doesn't do it. No matter how much I ask for, he either forgets, or doesn't do it at all."

Joohyun, for the first time ever since she has met you, felt bad for you. For the first time ever, Taeyong doubted her.

"I have no idea what to say, Y/N. It's not supposed to be like that. You're a duo after all."

"I don't think we're a duo, Joohyun."

For the rest of the night, Taeyong didn't give you attention, which you were thankful for. He got on your nerves enough. He was hanging out with his homeboys, enjoying himself, not worrying about you. In his mind, both of you have a perfect life. You are happy together, and you're madly in love. Maybe love is starting to be a too strong word for your feelings towards that man.

"Are you fine, Y/N?"

Doyoung smiled at you when you were sipping on a lemonade made by Johnny and Mark.

"I'm just tired after work and all this shit. And you? Are you fine?"

"It could be worse." He chuckled. "I see Taeyong isn't with you."

"Thank God. He's busy playing games."

"Still. I haven't seen you talking yet."

"We had a small fight before."

A reminder of that situation from before made you self conscious again. Your husband's words aren't supposed to make you feel the way they do.

"Was it serious or?"

"Not really. It was about my outfit, so nothing extreme."

"What do you mean by your outfit? You look stunning, I swear to God."

"Doyoung, can you be honest with him? We've known each other for almost ten years. We're friends." The man was busy thinking about what might come next out of your mouth. "Do I look bad? Be honest. Do I look worse than before? I don't know, am I not taking care of myself?"

It was a question directed at Doyoung because he was a person from a friend group that you've known for the longest. Actually, it was Doyoung who introduced you and Taeyong to each other. He knew him from high school, and he met you during the same classes at the business school. Kim Doyoung was a lovely nerd. Interested in Star Wars, books, and business. He used to collect plushies, he even gave you some of them. You always have wondered how Doyoung's world crushed with Taeyong's. Lee Taeyong was a popular jerk, interested in tattoos, rock, and trouble. For quite some time, you had a small crush on Doyoung. But then, you met Taeyong, and you fell head over heels over him.

"I don't see the point of this question. Isn't it obvious? Many guys from the department have a crush on you. I saw multiple strangers turn their necks when you passed by. You've always been pretty, Y/N."

"Now I feel better. Thank you, Doyie."

He was looking at you, once again, with his soft eyes. Sometimes, he wonders why you work him up so much.

"No problem. Remember, you're that girl. Don't let anyone say otherwise."

As you were about to respond, Taeyong showed up. He was drunk, and he could barely stand on his legs.

"Did you just call my wife pretty?"

"I did. We're friends, though. It's not that deep, Taeyong."

"I don't know, maybe you want to do something with her?" He was approaching you and Doyoung. Embarrassment fed your whole body as he got closer. "I don't like the way you talk to her."

"What's your fuckin problem, dude? I complimented her, since no one else bothers to do so. Like her husband, for example. Get it together, man."

You wish you could be gone for a second. Taeyong was drunk, and he had no clue what was going on.

"Shut the fuck up, Doyoung. You don't know shit."

"Calm down. You're wasted as fuck."

Everything that came after is now the past. The next thing you knew was Taeyong punching Doyoung straight into his nose. Blood was dripping on his shirt, and guys tried to grab him. You were shocked, and all you could do was scream at your husband. He was never that aggressive towards someone.

Jaehyun and Yuta were holding Taeyong, while Johnny and Haechan held Doyoung. Both males were calling each other names, while you wanted to disappear. Everyone was stunned. They had no idea such a storm was coming tonight. Best friends fighting over nothing.

"I'm leaving."

You got up, took your purse and coat, and left. Sooyoung called after you, but you were done for tonight. There was nothing you could do with your stupid husband. Leaving seemed like a good option.

"Get in." After a five-minute walk, a black Mercedes parked by your side. It wasn't your husband, though. "I won't let you go alone on a cold, dark night. Get in."

"You don't have to, Doyoung. I really -"

"I won't repeat myself."

Even after such a fucked up night, Doyoung had to be the one to take you home, not your husband. Does he even love you?

A week passed by, and nothing has changed. Both you and Taeyong would only see each other in the morning. Not even a simple "Hi" was exchanged. He was too embarrassed after what happened at Jaehyun's birthday.

"Y/N, we would love to move you a bit higher." Lee Sooman, your boss spoke to you. "We found your results to be the best out of the whole company. I want to promote you to a higher position and move you to the International Marketing department. Are you in?"

It was the day that would change your life the most. Working schedule was tighter, and you had to spend more hours weekly in the company. Chaeyoung was moved into the marketing department, so she was working with Taeyong. Everyone in the new floor was a stranger to you. These days, it's hard to find friends. Especially from work. Mark would always pass by your floor to say hello, though.

"Can I talk to Y/N?" Yuta's voice echoed through the office of the international marketing floor. "It's urgent and we need her. I'm from the Japanese unit."

Na Jaemin, your new co-worker, asked you to come. With a smile on, you saw Yuta waiting for you.

"What do you need, Yuta?"

"Are you the one who is in charge of France and Italy's orders?" You nodded at his words. "Well, I think that someone messed up and their orders came to Japan, and Japan's order came to France. Can you check it out with me?"

Both of you came to your desk and typed out the information about the order. Someone from the delivery unit must have mistaken the orders, that would have cost millions of dollars.

"I think you should call the international shipping floor, there's Seulgi. She may know what to do before the boss finds out."

When you were on your way back, Chaeyoung stopped you. She was smiling a bit.

"Can you help us, Y/N?"

It turns out that marketing and international marketing are supposed to make an ad together. You were picked as a person from the international floor, and Doyoung was picked from marketing.

"I'm glad I'm working with you, Doyoung."

"Me too. I would cry, if I had to work with Jeno or Xiaojun. They're a bit weird."

"I don't blame you." You laughed when you opened your laptop. "I think we should start today, and it would take about a week for us to finish. What's the theme of the ad?"

Doyoung took a look at his papers and then answered you.

"Youth. Progression. Victory."

"How the fuck are we supposed to do it?" In your head, you saw how much of a struggle this ad would be. "Any ideas?"

The time went by so fast, none of you noticed it was past 8 pm. Both of you got to work to make the best project you could ever do. Doyoung was a smart guy, and he knew exactly what to put in an ad to make it interesting.

While both of you were working, Taeyong didn't call you at all. You were supposed to be at home at 6, yet he didn't even care. He's probably still mad at you because of the fight.

"I'll drop you at home." Doyoung put his coat on, and looked at you to check if you're ready. "C'mon, Y/N."

"I feel bad. You're doing too much for me, Doyoung." It was truth, Doyoung didn't mind but to you it was wrong. Taeyong is supposed to help you, not his best friend. "Let me call Taeyong, he would pick me up."

"Waiting for his response, then."

It's ben almost 30 seconds and he didn't pick up. Another call. And another. Nothing. He wasn't going to pick up your calls tonight.

"I'm sorry. It's going to be the last time you're dropping me at home. For real."

Doyoung didn't answer but rather smiled at you. It was cute how much you didn't want to depend on him, but you did anyway.

Both of you were in a car talking about the details of the project when suddenly your stomach made a noise.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

"Lunch. Sandwiches."

"Y/N, it was at 1. It's 8. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine." Another noise came from your stomach. "Okay, maybe a little."

"We're going to eat something. I'm hungry too."

When you were about to protest, Doyoung shushed you a bit. He parked by a restaurant next to the company. Both of you ordered the same thing and enjoyed the meal together inside.

"How much am I supposed to pay you back? I wasn't looking at the price."

"Don't worry, it's on me."

"Doyoung, I can't-"

"I said it's fine." He laughed. "Enjoy your meal and stop being so annoying."

It was the first time since you could've remembered when you were in a restaurant. The last time you were in a restaurant was with Taeyong on your birthday a few months ago. You couldn't explain why, but you felt the warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Doyoung, I really want to thank you for everything you're doing for me." He stopped eating and focused on your words. "I have shitty time with my husband, work is getting on my nerves, and you're too nice to me'' It felt as almost you were crying. "You have no idea how much it does mean to me."

"Y/N, stop. I do it, and I'm not complaining at all. I like to spend time together, and it's not your fault that Taeyong is such an asshole. I wish he was a better husband. You deserve someone who will love you unconditionally."

After that, your evening got better. Doyoung took you on a small car trip around Seoul. He showed you some streets you hadn't seen before. Deep down, he knew you didn't want to come back home as soon as possible. He parked for a minute by the Han River.

"It's an amazing place. I feel like I'm 17 again, me and my friends go on trips here to follow our crushes from school."

"I did the same thing with boys. Me, Yuta, and Taeyong with Jonny would be here every day after classes because of Taeyong." He was laughing at himself. "Because of him and Kang Seulgi, we were here every day for hours. He wanted to look at her and ask her out. It never worked though, because she left for some time, then we were in business school, and he was dating you."

Kang Seulgi? Seulgi from the delivery department? From you company? Taeyong had crush on her? Suddenly you felt lightheaded, your vision became blurry, and tears appeared on you eyes. You had to take a few deep breathes to calm down.

"I've never heard about Taeyong and Seulgi? Why?"

"Fuck. I wasn't supposed to tell you then." It was an accident. Doyoung believed you were aware of Taeyong's first love. "I shouldn't tell you. Sorry, Y/N."

"It's too late, can you tell me more?"

"I shouldn't. I already have said too much."

"Doyoung, please. Taeyong never told me about Seulgi. I had no idea about another girl."

You felt hurt a bit, not because you were jealous. You were hurt because Taeyong was probably lying to you for these years. Was he in love with a girl that got away? That's why he doesn't care. You're not the one Lee Taeyong loves.

"They were seeing each other for months. He always had a thing for her. She rejected him a few times because she was supposed to move to Daegu for some time." Doyoung was looking far ahead, he didn't dare to spare you a look. "Seulgi left, he was depressed for weeks, then I met you. I introduced both of you to each other." Boy, how much does he regret that. "He was focused on you, then Seulgi came back. I guess they tried to talk, but he was dating you already."

"Now it all makes sense to me. Fuckin asshole." You weren't even hurt anymore. It seems like all the feelings for Lee Taeyong are gone. Even hate. "We've been together for the past 8 years. I've focused on him. I was like a maid! He was never there for me when I needed him the most, but I forgave him. I always did. I did this all to find out he was never truly in love with me. Bullshit." A sarcasstic laugh left your mouth while Doyoung was observing you. "Why would you ever introduce him to me? I would've dodged the bullet, Doyie. I wish you didn't."

Doyoung felt guilty, even though he shouldn't. In his eyes, Taeyong was a good man. He was sure his friend was treating you like a princess.

"Sorry, I felt he would be a good party for you. I don't know. But you can't say he doesn't love you. You don't know that."

"I think we both know that."

Awkward silence occurred between you.

"Listen, I do believe you deserve better. Don't mind him, maybe one day he will see what he has lost. Look at you, Y/N. You can't get such an asshole like him to make you feel bad. I love him, he's my best friend, but you're my friend too. I wish you would be happier."

His words were true and meaningful. Doyoung was right. You deserve better than that. In the heat of a moment, you turned your head towards him and kissed him.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't, I don't know what I was thinking-"

He stopped you with a kiss. Much stronger kiss. It was like your mouths knew each other well. As if they were missing pieces together. It's been a long time since you've been kissed.

Best friends don't kiss each other's partners, and a wife doesn't kiss her husband's best friend. That was the truth. It's been a few days, and it was awkward between you and Doyoung. Taeyong apologized to you, and he tried to be a better man for you. Somehow, you felt a bit guilty because you were married, but honestly? You wished to wake up to Doyoung every day instead of Taeyong.

"I made you breakfast."

Taeyong got into the bedroom with a plate of toast and scrambled eggs.

"Thank you."

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" You popped your eyebrow. "I've done breakfast for you for the past 8 years, give me a break already. It's the bare minimum, Taeyong."

"I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. Okay?"

It's too late to fix things now. Breakfast in bed won't fix the damage that has already been done to you. Deep down, you wanted to feel guilty, but you just couldn't.

In the company, everyone was busy. It's April. One of the busiest months for the company. You had hopes of passing by Doyoung. Your project got accepted, whichh made your comapany's saels higher. Mark would drop by to talk shit about your co-workers. Johnny bought you a coffee, and Sooyoung called to go shopping with you. Everything should go fine.

About 7 pm, when the company was almost empty, you saw a well known to you figure. He was putting his things together, probably about to leave the building.

"Can we talk? Like adults, please? Ignoring each other won't turn back time, Doyoung."

"It's not the best time for this conversation, the building is about to close down."

"Then let's talk somewhere else. Even at the stupid bench in the park."

He took a second to rethink his life decisions.

"Let's talk at mine."

After 15 minutes, both of you arrived at Doyoung's apartment. It was located in the center of Seoul. It was maybe the fourth time you've ever been there.

"I know it's bad and awkward. I'm married to your best friend, and we kissed each other, making out even." You chuckled because of your nerves. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I guess. Sorry. But please, let's talk. I kinda miss you." He looked at you, a bit shocked. "As friends, of course."

"Well, I really want to say I regret kissing you. Really." He was pacing around the living room. "But it would be a lie. Honestly? I enjoyed it, and I would do it again, and again, and again. I don't give a fuck about Taeyong now."

His statement made you blush. He was confident in himself and sure of what he was saying.

"Fuck, me too. I know how wrong it is, but I can't help myself."

Nothing else needed to be said. Doyoung dropped everything he had held. He was kissing you like a starved man. As if he hadn't been able to see you for ages. It's a forbidden romance, and you're enjoying it.

Next thing you knew was you being in his bedroom. He was slowly kissing you down your neck, while his hands were taking off your clothes. Everything felt magical.

"Can I?" He asked with hungry eyes, his fingers on the hem of your pants. "Please?"

"Please."

It was the best sex you've ever had. Taeyong usually didn't pay you much attention. He wanted to cum and he could care less if you did. Doyoung paid attention to you, and only you. He was focused on making you feel good. He loved your body and moans you left out your mouth.

"You're amazing. I wish it was me who dated you back then." Doyoung was holding you in a spoon. His fingers were circling your shoulder. "I like you."

"I like you too."

Since then, it has become a routine for you. Taeyong wasn't suspicious of anything. He was busy working with Seulgi. He couldn't lie, but he preferred to stay at the company until late hours to finish tasks with her. He thought you were having fun with Joohyun or Sooyoung. You and Taeyong barely talk to each other, but none of you seem to mind. This marriage was meant to fail from the beginning.

"Y/N." Mark touched your shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"What were you doing at Doyoung's apartment last night? I was there to drop him off his laptop, but I saw you coming in."

This question made your heart drop. Romance between you and Doyoung was supposed to be a secret until you'd be responsible enough to divorce Taeyong.

"We're friends? And co-workers? I was doing research with him." You giggled. "What are you even thinking of?"

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He was a bit embarrassed. "You wouldn't do anything harmful to Taeyong. I thought you were doing something weird with Doyoung."

"Mark, please. How could you think about it?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you talk in weeks. He's always around Seulgi, you're meeting with Doyoung a lot, and both of you leave at different hours." He was a bit confused. "Are you guys fine?"

"Yes, we are fine, Mark. Don't worry too much."

The thought of being almost caught scared you. Your friends wouldn't understand you. They would blame you for cheating on your lovely, hardworking, and amazing husband. Especially, if you're cheating on him with his best friend. You were lonely, and you lost feelings for Taeyong long ago, he himself probably had lost them first, a long time ago.

"I know." Joohyun's word made you stressed. "Taeyong called asking about you. I covered for you every single time. You're cheating on him, right?"

It was supposed to be a chill meeting at your apartment with a coffee and cake. Joohyun loved you as if you were her sister.

"Before we go any further, don't judge me, please." You couldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm ashamed of myself, but I think that's how it was meant to be. You don't understand how it is to be with Taeyong. How is it to be unloved and ignored."

"Y/N, I'm not judging you at all. Me and Johnny support you. At first, Johnny was furious, and he couldn't believe it." She chuckled. "I guess, me too. I wasn't ready. But look at this. After Taeyong? I really admire you, and how you were able to move on with life.

"I know I'm the worst person on earth because of that. I'm ashamed to face him and tell him I want a divorce."

"Well, it's not a surprise. It's a tough topic. Let me ask you another question. Is it Doyoung?"

"How do you know?"

"It's obvious. Every time we've been gathering together, he could never take his eyes off of you."

After that, Joohyun and Johnny promised you to keep a secret. They didn't support cheating, but they couldn't blame you. Everyone thought you were living a great life with Taeyong, only to turn out it was the total opposite.

"I'll divorce him."

Doyoung was sitting on the chair on his balcony with you on his lap. He was finishing his glass of wine. As soon as he heard that, his eyes met yours.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you into anything." He said, slowly carrasing your back. "I fear that Taeyong won't forgive us. I may lose my best friend."

"At first, I thought the exact same thing." You kissed his cheek. "But now, I completely hate this guy. I lost my femininity, myself, and energy because of him. I can't look at him, because all I see is how much he hurt me and me cheating on him."

"I'm here. I'm going to support you no matter what."

Both you and Doyoung told your friends you needed to go on a trip to Jeju. You had the time of your life there. Taeyong was texting you once in a while. Doyoung made your life interesting. He gave you something Taeyong could never.

Dark nigths going on a walks on the beach. Singing songs in a karaoke bar or in your room. Doing stupid teenagers shit. Life with Doyoung was different. You felt loved.

Joohyun invited everyone from the friend group to a BBQ. It was a usual Friday. Mark was in charge of drinks with Jungwoo. Johnny was in charge of the music. Taeyong was busy with his phone, while you and Doyoung cut fruits like Joohyun asked you to.

It should be a peaceful night. Only if Seulgi didn't show up. After she came, the atmosphere tensed. Jaehyun felt uncomfortable, so did Yuta and Taeil. You tried to ignore it, but Seulgi was all on Taeyong. In public. In front of everyone's eyes.

"Why is she here?"

"I don't know. Joohyun probably invited her." Doyoung sipped on his drink. "That's wild."

"It is. That's why I hate him. Look how shameless he is."

After some time, everyone was busy with something. Some were dancing, and some were singing old hits. You were on the coach, looking at your friends having fun.

"How are you, Y/N?" Jaehyun and Jungwoo sat down on both sides of you. "We saw you're sitting like a potato here."

"I'm not drunk enough to go up and dance."

"Then drink more!" Jungwoo handed you another drink. "We're having fun tonight!"

"Exactly. You can't be depressed or something."

They were right. Soon after, you had almost five different drinks, most of them being mixed with vodka. You were dancing with the girls, then with Yuta and Doyoung. You really had a lot of fun. Until Taeyong turned the music off.

"Everyone! Can I take a second of your time?" Everyone was confused. Your heartbeat was faster, and your hands started to sweat. "I'd like to share the wonderful news with you!" He was drunk. Drunk like on Jaehyun's birthday. It means trouble. "I don't know if any of you are aware of me and Y/N. My lovely wife."

You were quick to stand up and grab Taeyong.

"Let's go. Get yourself together you're embarrassing me."

"Let me go." He got out of your hold. "As you know, we've been married for 8 years! That's a long period, right? Well, I think someone might get bored of one another."

"Taeyong, please. Stop it."

Tears came into your eyes quickly. Everyone witnessing the scene was confused. Joohyun was fast to send Johnny to get Taeyong somewhere else.

"Johnny, leave me alone! I'd like to share something with you! Our lovely, sweet, and faithful Y/N is a cheating bitch! That's right!" He was laughing devilishly, while you were on a verge of a breakdown. "Isn't it crazy? We all think about her as of an angel. Look at her. She's not all that."

"I don't think you should do it, man." Jaehyun tried to get Taeyong's attention, but he wasn't listening.

"I should. My wife is fucking my best friend, and I should stay quiet? No way! Tell us, Y/N, how long have you been fuckin Doyoung?"

People left gasps. They all turned their heads towards you. Johnny and Joohyun felt anger. He should never done this to you in a public.

"Let her go, man. I'm not kidding." Doyoung stood up and pushed Taeyong. "Are you crazy? Did you forget about fuckin Seulgi? You're not saint after all."

It felt like a nightmare. Everything was going so fast, and you could only stand there shocked.

"I was faithful to her for the longest time ever! And look how did she pay me back."

"Don't be funny, Taeyong." You managed to say it, while wiping the tears away. "How can you do this to me? After what I've done to you. I never told anyone how much of a burden living with you was! Not even once! I was there with you when I was doing every chore for you! Every little thing you needed! I let you fuck me when I wasn't in the mood, because I cared about you!" You were screaming on top of your lungs. "Y'all can judge me. You can throw names at me, I don't care! I've never been happier. None of you understand what I went through."

Your friends were in shock. They never would guess what was coming. You and Taeyong fighting in the Johnny's backyard with a people around. All the dirty things you've ever done were mentioned.

"Don't act like a victim."

"Am I not? You were using me for everything. I lost my will to live, Taeyong. You're a selfish motherfucker, who had never loved me. You've been in love with Seulgi since the beginning. You lied to me, ruined my life and I wasted all those years."

"I want a divorce."

"Me too. I hate you, Taeyong."

With that, all your group friends were confused. Joohyun, Johnny, and Doyoung gave you support. Taeil and Sooyoung reached out to you too. Mark,Haechan, Yuta and Jungwoo were confused about what to do. Jaehyun had no idea what to think, until Johnny changed his mind. They were uncomfortable with everything that'd been said that day.

Taeyong blocked your number, packed your things, and threw you out of your shared apartment. You had no choice but to move in with Doyoung.

"I love you, Y/N. I think I always did."

"I wish I had married you first." Both of you chuckled on the way to the court. "Imagine what we would have done in these years. I'm grateful we have so much to explore about each other."

Doyoung never let you down, or doubted you, or your trust. He gave you loved, you were craving for. He was a missing puzzle to your life. He helped you understand yourself, and improve yourself.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lee, oficially you've been divorced. Mrs. Y/N, succesfuly, you dropped Lee from your last name. I wish both of you happines on a new life's path."

It would be the end of the chapter titled Taeyong, now you're beinning a new one with your true love.

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sgiandubh · 19 days ago

Note

Hi sgiandubh! Happy weekend!

Have you seen the clip of the interaction between Sam, John, and Cait at the New York Comic Con photoshoot? It seemed like Sam didn’t like how John was behaving towards Cait and got a bit possessive.😉 Obviously all was well a few minutes later when they walked out on stage for the panel 😊, but it seemed like a purely instinctual reaction by Sam to get a little possessive of her for a second.

You seem to really have a knack for analyzing body language so that’s why I wanted to ask! Thanks for answering!

Dear Interaction Anon,

I am sorry for the delay. I am in the middle of a very busy week: while it is true I took the bulk of my leftover paid leave and I am currently at home, I also have some very important and urgent things to sort out, so it is what it is.

I think you can find some very decent explanations on some other blogs and I also think @the-sassynach did a fabulous job with her more than clear gifs (https://www.tumblr.com/the-sassynach/764677465702645760/lmfao?source=share).

Particularly this one, if you ask me:

You may think of any number of reasons why that photoshoot looked a bit 'off' (jealousy, possessiveness, uxoriousness, being drunk, being sassy, etc). The fact is that despite the 'look relaxed and spontaneous' brief, they managed to show us the exact opposite. They looked tense and fake, completely unlike what they were supposed to do. Why?

Because you can control many things in life, spare Paul Ekman's facial micro expressions. There are 7 of them: happiness, sadness, anger, disgust, contempt, fear, & surprise. And all of these are universal, which means you can't fool anyone on this planet, regardless of the culture the person hails from - they would get the schtick of it immediately. And they are impossible to control, because they express an emotional, immediate response to an outside stimulus, the person might even be completely unaware of.

The most interesting game would perhaps be to see how many of them can you see in @the-sassynach's gifs? Once you do this, boom: the story writes itself.

Here is a very useful breakdown of Ekman's theory, illustrated: https://www.osc.org/microexpressions-universal-language/. I think you, along with many, will find it very useful and perhaps enlightening. And while some might think it's bullshit, let them: reading body language is a core competence in business intelligence, for example. I know what I am saying, because let's say I am no stranger to it.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #paley fest 2024

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doomhands-jr · 5 months ago

Text

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 8

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Angst, smut if you squint.

Masterlist

Authors note: Nothing too exciting, just wrapping up the events of last chapter and setting up for the events of this one. Dream sequence is loosely inspired by the sleep paralysis demon fic called Simply I Am, phenomenally written by @throughwoodsanddirt and @rottingfern

Banner by @flowerynerds

Noah couldn’t get it up. Perhaps it was everything he’d had to drink that night. An attractive brunette—she introduced herself as Brittany—was on her knees in front of him, palming him over his jeans while his head spun.

It might have been the beer. It may have also been the liquor. It probably wasn’t the weed—that usually increased his sexual response.

It could have been that the girl in front of him wasn’t you.

God, you were so perfect. And he was fully aware that perfection didn’t actually exist and that you most certainly had flaws, but there was something about you that screamed perfection , and he wasn’t about to fight with it.

Your red dress in particular was sinful tonight, and not sinful in the way where you were showing too much skin or were in any way immodest, but sinful in the things he wanted to do to you while you wore it.

He wanted to see you on your knees in it, eyeliner running down your cheeks, lipstick smeared down your mouth, sobbing up at him while he painted that fucking dress with his cum.

What was wrong with him?

He had no control over his thoughts when it came to you. And Noah was not in any way a pious man, but the lust he felt for you made him want to be one if only to escape from the fucking snare you unknowingly, unintentionally laid out for him.

God!

He leaned forward, lovingly caressing the chin of the woman in front of him. Saliva drooled down her parted lips as she stared innocently up, placing unearned trust in him. He guided her mouth to his, tilting her head back and forcing saliva into her dripping mouth and down her throat as if it were a gift to her.

Why did he treat people like this?

Well, he knew the short answer—because they wanted him to.

She licked her lips, humming in satisfaction and smiled up at him.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and he had to force himself not to roll his eyes because what the fuck was that?

You had roasted him for wanting to be called Daddy in bed. He huffed out a laugh. Brittany thought it was because he was pleased with her, and he wished that were the case, but it wasn’t. He was only half-present with her.

Fuck, he loved it when you roasted him. He desperately needed to be humbled by you. He’d do anything to have you do it again.

Anything except text you back. Or go to church. Or put any effort into forming a relationship with you because he was a fucking terrified little bitch who couldn’t get over himself to save his life.

“Thank you, Brittany. You’re dismissed,” he muttered and oh , did she eat that right up.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, fucking curtseying before exiting the room.

Another satisfied customer and he didn’t even have to get his dick out.

He had gone to see you that night, but he didn’t stay. He’d peeked through the doors, caught one look at you all dressed up on stage, and immediately panicked, hiding by himself on the edge of the foyer, back to the wall while you nearly brought him to goddamn tears with your hymn.

He left halfway through the song, unable to stomach any more of it.

Noah is a stoic person. He prefers it that way. Throughout his life, he’d offer people brief glimpses into his psyche through his music or his lyrics. Never too much though—he’d cover it up with layers upon layers of metaphor and allegory, sometimes going as far as making up entire false stories to throw people off his trail so they couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

Which is to say he’s not exactly the best at letting people in.

You would demand to be let in, and that terrified the shit out of him.

It was unfortunately, not something he was ready for. And he hated that it hurt you—he really did. He hoped you’d understand and forgive him eventually.

He’d try, though. For you, he would try.

And that started with avoiding you while he got his shit together.

________

Stepping under the shower was like a spiritual experience for you, except this time, you were washing off the filth of the church.

You were done with it, you’d decided. For as long as you could be. Obviously, your parents would make you attend whenever you visited home over summers and holidays, but as far as you were concerned, you’d had enough.

Isaac was really something. He knew your stance on reproductive rights. Or at least he should have, if he’d been paying any attention.

You squirted a dollop of shampoo into your palms and rubbed them together, creating a lather for your hair.

You hadn’t exactly been quiet about your feelings.

Okay, yes. You hadn’t always been the staunch defender of reproductive rights that you were today. There was a time several years ago that you, Isaac, Ava, and many other members of your father’s congregation had loaded onto a bus and rode to Washington, D.C., where you participated in the annual March for Life.

You’d had the same views on the issue as Isaac and many other church members—you felt that all innocent life should be protected, viewing abortion as murder.

It wasn’t until Stevie had sat you down and patiently explained to you the harm that the pro-life movement has caused that your views started to shift. Since then, you’d been vocal about your concerns, but had always been shut down by church leaders. They never wanted to answer your questions or hear you out on the matter.

With the shampoo lathered and rinsed, you turned to the conditioner—it was your favorite. It smelled like coconut and argan oil and left your hair feeling silky smooth.

A banging sounded from the other end of the communal bathroom. You recognized it as someone coming through the door. Actually, it sounded like several people.

“And he said he was busy?” one of them asked.

“Yeah,” said another voice. “He had some event or something he had to go to tonight, but he might be free later.”

“What about Jolly’s party?”

Your ears twitched at the mention of Jolly and you stilled, pausing in the middle of reaching for your loofah.

Someone scoffed. “I’d rather not. I’m getting tired of Noah.”

You inhaled sharply.

“That’s not what you said the other day Madison,” someone giggled.

There was a brief pause in conversation. You leaned closer to the shower curtain to hear what was happening, old mildew that clung to it stinging the insides of your nose.

“He texted me again tonight, but I told him I was busy.”

“Shut up. You did not.” Whoever was speaking sounded positively scandalized.

“He was hot at first, but he’s too needy these days.”

“Girl, no way. Every other person alive would be dying at the chance to sleep with him. He’s so hot.”

“You can have him then,” said the other girl—Madison. “I’m getting a little tired of the whole tortured musician act anyway.”

So that’s where Noah was. Probably at a party, hooking up with some random girl since the one he was after had passed on the chance.

You laughed softly and bitterly to yourself, hoping not to be overheard. Of course.

A clearer picture started to form in your head. The pieces began to fall into place. Noah had never intended to come to your showcase. He’d probably only said that to get you to trust him. Then once he had his fun, he was done with you.

He’d been so convincing. That night after his show when he’d comforted you? Or that day in the freezing rain? You could have sworn he truly cared, but maybe he was just way more convincing than you had realized.

Why had he only stopped at phone sex? Why wouldn’t he have gone all the way?

Maybe because he sensed it would take too much time and effort to convince you to lose your virginity.

You sank down into a crouch, hugging your knees to your chest.

Was it really all just pretend?

_________

You allowed yourself one night to cry—you’d earned it, and you’d give that to yourself. Cry, you did–big, heaving sobs that had you clutching at your blankets and screaming into your pillows. Ugly, messy weeping. The kind you knew would result in your growth, which is why you welcomed it, wandering down the hall with your swollen, tear-stained face on display to steal toilet paper from the communal bathroom, since you’d used up all your tissues.

It was humbling, and it was profound.

Cathartic. You needed a good cry like this, because whether you liked it or not, Noah had changed you and for that you were grateful, but now he was gone. The lessons he gave you were real, but the motives behind those lessons had all been fake, and that felt like a massive loss.

That wasn’t the only thing you cried about, however. You grieved your faith. It wasn’t gone—not completely at least, but it was slipping through your fingers. All the physical tethers you’d had to your faith—the church, the choir, your father. Isaac—they’d been severed. Tainted with trauma and cruelty.

What were you if not a Christian? You still had a deep sense of spirituality and a connection to the divine, or so you thought. But you didn’t know what it meant anymore, or how to express it. Was the divinity you felt connected to the same God that you learned about in the Bible? Or was it something else entirely? The confusing thoughts swirled through your head, overwhelming you.

Perhaps you didn’t have to answer all those questions tonight. You’d settle for grieving your losses.

You cried until you fell asleep, and when you woke up, you cried again.

It was Saturday morning, and you were meant to monitor community service again, but one look at your big, red, puffy eyes in the mirror and you knew you were in no state to be seen in public.

You doubted that Noah would show his face, but you didn’t want to give him the opportunity. You sent a group text to both Noah and Nick telling them that community service was canceled that morning, and then, with nothing better to do, you went back to bed and allowed yourself to cry some more.

________

Something moved between your legs. Something big and warm. You thrashed, trying to kick off the sheets that had become tangled around your thighs. “Shhhh, just relax,” soothed a deep, familiar voice. Long nails caressed your outer thighs.

You finally managed to free yourself, throwing the sheets off you and were met with Noah’s face looking up at you from between your knees. He wore the same blackout contact lenses and demon horns from Halloween, but something about them looked more convincing.

“Noah?” you asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Shhhh,” he said again, delivering a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your center, bathing it in warmth. You arched into his touch—it was so welcome.

“Wh…whaat…,” you began but found yourself unable to speak as he lapped at you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, punctuating his sentence by nipping at your outer thigh. His teeth were much sharper than you expected. “Give yourself over to it.”

He hooked his arms under your thighs and dragged your body to him, digging his claws into the soft flesh.

“Yes,” you breathed, panting as he sucked and licked and kissed.

His arms found purchase on the mattress and he crawled up your body, licking up your torso as he went.

“Isn’t this worth it?” he asked, devilish grin consuming his face.

You blinked, and both your wrists were above your head, held down by one of his massive hands. Feebly, you struggled against his hold, no match for his strength.

“This is what you wanted, Angel,” he said, one long, pointed nail stroking softly down your cheek while his face hovered above yours. His breath smelled deathly sweet, as if you could get drunk on it.

Bending down, he licked at your mouth. You chased the kiss but he kept his lips just out of reach.

“Want to taste?” he asked. Whimpering, you nodded.

He dipped his tongue out of his mouth, not close enough for you to reach with your lips, but just close enough you could run your own tongue over the tip of his. It was just as over-sweet as his breath. You strained against his hold pathetically in an attempt to deepen the touch, but he was too strong.

“Now, now,” he taunted. “Don’t get greedy,” he said, grinding himself into you and you whimpered. “You have to earn it.”

“Tell me,” you begged, trying in vain to lift your hips up into him and achieve some much-needed friction against your dripping core.

“I need you on your knees.”

Without warning, Noah was no longer on top of you, but standing in front. You were not in a bed, but in a dark, barren room. Instead of Noah holding your arms above your head, each wrist was shackled to chains that hung from the ceiling. You were naked, knelt before him.

He wore all black, matching his eyes, nails, and horns, and he stood over you menacingly.

“That’s right,” he said, voice having switched from soft to booming. “Bow before your god.”

_________

You awoke with a start, bolting up in your bed. It took you a few blinks to recognize that you were indeed in your room, not…wherever that was. Your breaths came out in rapid succession, tears welling up. Frantically, you swiped at your eyes, wiping the cascading droplets away as you tried to steady your breathing.

You hung your head, pressing it against your knees and swallowing thickly.

It was just a dream. But an awful one that left you feeling even more fragile and tender than you’d been last night.

A loud knock sounded at the door. Swiping at your forehead, you found a clamminess that hadn’t been there before. You wiped your hand over your sleep shorts, trying to get your bearings.

The knock sounded again. “Hold on,” you called. You slid out of bed and into a pair of fuzzy slippers, checking the small makeup mirror on your desk and noting the red splotches at the end of your nose and around your eyes. You didn’t want to be observed in this state, but it was probably Ava at the door, and you could really use her warmth and kindness.

You padded over to the door, opening it slowly to find not Ava, but a different set of bright eyes paired with a wide smile, which fell as soon as he looked at you.

“Nick? What are you doing here?” you asked, taken aback by his presence.

“Wanted to check on you,” said Nick, eyes scanning over your face. “You okay? Can I come in?”

You peered around the doorframe to see if he was alone and then moved aside, gesturing for him to enter.

When he did, he took a moment to observe your dorm.

“You don’t have a lot of decorations,” he stated, looking back and forth from Stevie’s side of the room to yours. Stevie’s was hung with loads of artwork from her friends, photos from home, small figurines and a collection of pretty rocks she’s collected while on hikes.

Yours was bland. Bare. Not a single photo or piece of art.

You used to have decorations—Bible verses in pretty fonts and photos of you with various family and members of the church. Friends from Christian school. But you’d taken them all down and stuffed them under your bed the previous night in a fit of rage. Looking at them felt like a painful reminder of the oppressive nature of your religion.

Nick turned around to face you, raising his eyebrows when too much time had gone by without a response from you.

“Yeah, I, uh,” you started, swallowing hard. “I guess I’m in the middle of redecorating.” You twisted the tie on your cotton shorts nervously.

Nick’s eyes ran down and back up the length of you. “Nice shirt.”

You looked down. He was referring to the racecar shirt. The same one Noah had teased you about. Thinking about him brought another wave of emotion up, though, so you shoved those feelings back down as quickly as they arrived.

“Thanks,” you said, shifting your weight from foot to foot, before ultimately deciding that you were too tired to be anxious, so you went back to your bed and crawled on top.

“You can sit,” you said, gesturing to the chair at your desk. He didn’t hesitate in pulling it up to face you and planting himself on it.

“So,” he began, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “What’s up?”

You looked around the room, feeling warm under his imploring stare. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“You canceled community service,” he said. It was a statement, not a question, and though his voice was soft, it held a sternness that had you feeling on edge, as if in asking the question, he’d chucked a ball into your court and now waited to see what you’d do with it.

“I did,” you volleyed back to him. Zero serving Zero.

He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why?”

You shrugged. A non-answer.

His tongue poked out between his lips and he tilted his head to look at you. You avoided his gaze, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms. As tense as the situation was, it offered a welcome distraction from your feelings.

“You left after your solo. The program said you’d be singing in the choir, but I didn’t see you.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling your nostrils flare out upon the exhale. Noticing tightness in your jaw, you worked to relax the muscles.

“Isaac and I had an…ethical disagreement,” you said.

Growing bolder, Nick slipped his shoes off and kicked his feet up to rest on the edge of your bed, using the leverage to tilt himself back on two chair legs.

Your eyes flicked down to his feet, wrinkling your nose at the sight of his stained socks and he wriggled his toes tauntingly.

“Are you sure it’s not because someone didn’t show?” he asked, continuing to wriggle his toes.

“Can you get your stinky feet off my bed?” you asked. It was a lie. You couldn’t smell his feet, you just didn’t want to answer the question.

“Nope,” he said, emphasizing the last consonant with a pop .

You leaned forward to push him off, but he was too quick, whipping his feet out of the way and slamming the chair back down on all fours with a loud giggle. You resumed your position against the wall and he did the same, crossing his heels as they rested on the edge of the mattress.

Sighing, you allowed it. His taunting was doing a better job breaking you out of your sullen mood than you’d managed to do on your own.

“It really was because of Isaac,” you said. “I didn’t like the charity he picked.”

Nick nodded. “I was wondering about that. I didn’t donate anything, you’ll be glad to know.”

The corner of your mouth curled up, despite yourself. “Good.”

He looked at you more seriously. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

You curled your fingers around your comforter, tucking your lips in between your teeth while you waited for the right words to arrive. “I’m assuming you aren’t referring to the charity,” you said, feeling your mouth fall into something that resembled more of a pout.

He nodded, waiting patiently for you to go on.

You let your head fall back to thud against the wall.

Nick was sweet. You hadn’t thought so at first, but after hearing how he had treated Ava, you realized he was a much kinder and more considerate guy than you’d initially judged him to be, and the fact that he came all the way over here on a Saturday morning just to check on you was definitely unexpected.

When Isaac had done it after Halloween, you were certain it was to chastise you for your behavior. And sure, perhaps Isaac did care for you a little bit, but he was far more concerned with keeping you in line.

Nick was here only to help, out of the kindness of his heart. You at least owed him a little bit of the truth.

“He didn’t come,” you said, hoping that Nick could pick up on the disappointment in your tone so you wouldn’t have to tell him exactly how it made you feel. If you talked about it too much, you’d start crying again and that was the last thing you wanted.

“I know,” he said softly. Soothingly. Sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them. “I had a feeling he wouldn’t. But for some reason, I held out hope.”

Nick said nothing, giving you space to continue.

“Did he say why?” you asked.

He chewed on his lip, picking a piece of lint off the leg of his pants before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “He’s,” he began, sighing as he spoke, “going through something at the moment. It’s probably best for you to keep your distance.”

Your throat tightened. You’d suspected as much, but hearing him confirm it felt like ripping off the scab of a wound. Fresh blood leaked out.

Not wanting to cry, you scoffed instead. “Yeah, I know. That something was in the building last night and,” you paused as your voice threatened to wobble. “…had a lot to say about it to her friends,” you finished once you’d regained control.

Nick’s eyes grew wide and he let his feet fall back to the floor with a loud thunk. “What do you mean?” If he could tell you were on the verge of tears, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Madison, or whatever her name was,” you said, feeling your eyes start to prickle. “She was in the girl’s bathroom last night talking with her friends. She said Noah reached out to her, and,” you sniffed, “had been hooking up with her a lot recently. So much that she,” you were cut off by your breath hitching. You swallowed thickly, feeling your eyes begin to water. “She was getting tired of him.”

You buried your face in your palms, trying hard not to let the tears fall, but failed.

“Shit,” you heard him say under his breath. He said nothing else, but you heard the scrape of the chair against your floor, and then felt the mattress beside you shift.

“This okay?” he asked, throwing his arm around you and you nodded into your hands. He squeezed you into his chest and you melted into the touch. It wasn’t flirtatious or sexual in any capacity—just genuinely concerned and you desperately needed it. You needed someone to witness your pain and hold you while you felt it.

“Noah’s not the best at handling his problems,” Nick said. His chest vibrated against your cheek as he spoke. He smelled musty, like stale smoke mixed with some sort of spice. Similar to Noah but the scent was definitely his own. It was earthier, like soil after a heavy rain. “I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire.”

You said nothing, but continued to sniffle pathetically. You didn’t even want to know what problems Noah was supposedly dealing with, because you knew somehow you were one of them, and you didn’t want to feel like a problem.

“I know telling you not to take it personally is kind of stupid, because how can you not?” he continued, “but seriously, it’s not personal.”

He was right. How could you not? Noah had effectively lured you into a false sense of security, got you to compromise your morals, and then dipped.

Well, that may not have exactly been the case. You hadn’t compromised your morals for him —if anything, you’d knowingly and gleefully entered into the encounter. Your views on sex had changed far before he’d placed that call.

If anything, he’d just provided you an opportunity to explore yourself more–you just wish you would have been on the same page about what it meant.

“I don’t know what to do,” you said morosely. You understood Noah not wanting to hook up with you anymore for whatever reason, but you wished it didn’t involve you not even talking.

Especially after what had happened yesterday. Noah was the main person you talked to about your religious concerns. He got it. Understood where you were coming from and often knew exactly what to say to calm you down.

You could really use that right now.

“Come out with me tonight?” Nick offered after a few moments.

You pulled away to look at him. He looked sincere. “What?”

“Come out with me,” he repeated. “There’s a party happening at Jolly’s. I think you could use a bit of fun.”

You stared at him, confused. “Won’t Noah be there?”

He shook his head. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t come.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, deliberating. Nick was right, you definitely could use more fun in your life right about now, and a party did sound tempting. But your wounds were so fresh, and you hadn’t exactly enjoyed the last party you went to.

“I don’t know…,” you said.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hands in his and squeezing them. “I promise I’ll make it fun. It won’t be like last time. We aren’t playing a show tonight. It’s just a party.”

You breathed deeply through your nose (which was difficult considering how much mucus had built up), taking in his pleading gaze. This man has indeed perfected his puppy-dog stare and you wondered just how many women he’d used it on. Should you allow yourself to be one of them?

“I can tell you’re overthinking it.”

You sighed and chuckled, caught red-handed. “Fine,” you said. Honestly, you could use the distraction and had nothing better to do.

“Yeeee,” Nick softly boasted, pulling you into another hug and it was so endearing that his joy began to rub off on you.

“Don’t leave me to go hook up with someone this time,” you said. “Even if it’s Ava.”

“Promise,” he said, miming an X across his chest before crushing you back into him. “I won’t leave your side.”

_________

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you asked, for probably the fifth time since you’d arrived at Ava’s dorm.

“If you keep asking me that, I’m gonna start minding,” she said, tugging a brush through your hair.

Shortly after Nick left, you checked your phone and noticed several missed calls from Ava, asking what had happened to you. Rather than explain it over the phone, you decided to make the short trek partway across campus to her dorm.

As soon as Ava took one look at you, she wrapped you up in her arms and held you while you sobbed yet again. Having experienced religious trauma firsthand, she’d had more than enough empathy for what you were going through. She sat and listened patiently while you went over everything that had happened, affirming your decision to leave the church behind.

You were beyond grateful. It took a lot of courage for you to come to that decision. Knowing that your best friend not only supported you, but agreed that it was for the best was huge.

You also told her about Nick coming over and inviting you to the party. Though Ava had assured you many times that she didn’t mind if you hung out with him, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if by sleeping with him, she’d staked a claim.

“I don’t understand why you’re so cool with this,” you said.

As soon as you told her he’d invited you to a party, she’d insisted on dressing you, spouting that this was the perfect time for a makeover since you were already going through a transformative time in your life.

She paused brushing your hair, gathering the strands in her hands and laying them flat against your back. She stroked them softly.

“I’ve been…thinking,” she began.

“About?” you asked, glad to have the focus not on you and your problems.

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke again. “Finally losing my virginity was great, but it sort of opened up a lot of baggage for me to unpack. Specifically about my sexuality.”

You nodded to show you were listening.

“There’s this girl,” she continued, and you had a feeling you knew what she was about to discuss.

Ava’s parents had always been strict with her—possibly even more strict than your parents had been. She hadn’t always gone to Christian school. Throughout elementary, she’d gone to a public school. Then in junior high, she’d developed a close friendship with a girl.

You never heard the whole story, but her parents had learned something about the girl and flipped, pulling Ava out of her local high school and enrolling her in a Christian academy. You’d always assumed it was because her parents deemed this girl to be a bad influence on Ava, as they had mentioned before. In fact, the only reason the two of you had been so close was because her parents approved of you being the pastor’s daughter.

But then when the two of you asked to room together in college, her parents staunchly opposed. They shelled out a ton of money for Ava to get a private dorm, stating that they didn’t want her to get distracted by roommates.

You’d always wondered why they had such a problem with it. It wasn’t until now you’d started putting two-and-two together.

“Tell me about her,” you said, offering a warm smile. You locked eyes with Ava in the mirror as she resumed brushing your hair.

“She’s in my Art History class. Her name’s Hera.”

Ava lit up as she talked in a way you’d never seen her light up before. She told you how Hera’s background in activism through art, and how she’d initially approached Ava to study together, but they’d begun hanging out more. And how Ava isn’t exactly sure what Hera’s sexuality is, but she gets butterflies every time she smiles at her. How she’s trying to work up the courage to confess her feelings, but is absolutely terrified and will probably just take it slow, unless Hera says something first.

She told you about how Hera asked her to hang out tonight at an underground screening of some cult indie flick you’d never heard of, and that’s why Ava can’t come to the party with you.

All the while you sat and listened, heart growing warmer and softer for your best friend’s happiness.

Ava’s had a difficult road to get to where she was. Much more difficult than yours. The church you grew up in was not affirming in any way. When you were a child and discussions of the queer community first entered the church, they were staunchly against every facet of it, calling it an “abomination” and stating that it “destroyed the sanctity of marriage”.

When queer marriage became legal in your state, a bunch of the local churches protested outside the courthouse, yours included. Your parents didn’t let you go, because they wanted to shield you for as long as possible from the discussion.

You’d always had a hard time swallowing the church’s stance though. It seemed to go against everything they’d taught you about Jesus and the love he had for his people. If God is Love, as he says he is, then how could love in any form be evil? You just didn’t understand.

You learned not to bring it up with your father. It was a sore spot with him, as it was with the rest of the church elders, but you had no idea if that made you a bad Christian.

That was the first time you ever remembered questioning the church’s stance on something. Since then, it had been a slow deconstruction. So slow you hadn’t even noticed it was happening until recently, when Noah came into your life and started tearing about the foundation of everything you believed.

But you weren’t there to think about Noah. You were there to support your friend. Someone who has had to bravely stand in defiance of everything her family and her church has told her regarding who she is. You couldn’t even fathom how much courage that must have taken.

“I really like her,” she said, and you could tell this was the most vulnerable admission Ava has ever made to you.

“I’m so happy for you,” you said, biting back the tear that threatened to spill over. You’d been crying a lot the last two days. This time, however, it was a happy tear. “Thank you for confiding in me.”

Ava inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. And you’ve been going through a tough time so I didn’t want to pull focus away from that.”

You shook your head, failing to keep your tears at bay. “Don’t apologize at all. You don’t owe that information to anyone, but I’m really glad you chose to give it to me.”

Ava smiled, softening. “Well yeah,” she said. “You’re my best friend. Of course I’d tell you.”

You wanted to get up and hug her. You wanted to tell her how proud you were of her and how brave you thought she was. You wanted to ask her a million questions about her experiences in the church and how she got to this place of self-acceptance, but you knew all the direct attention would make her uncomfortable. There would be lots of time for you to say all of those things. Right now, what was important was that she trusted you enough to tell you.

In her eyes, you were a safe person for her to be herself around.

For all the damage the church had done to you, that fact alone was enough to kick-start your healing.

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#noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian #bad omens #the devil's advocate #bad omens fic

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whereforarthur · 3 months ago

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Am I a Burden to You?

Request: arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and making it up to her (angst —> soft)

- Anonymous

Pairing: Arthur Hill x Gf!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Category: Angst with a happy ending

*****

The room was filled with a heavy silence, only occasionally pierced by the distant hum of a passing car. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes glued to the laptop screen as she replayed Arthur's latest video for the umpteenth time. His laughter, usually a soothing melody that filled her heart, now echoed hollowly around the emptiness of their apartment. She hadn't seen him in days, his work schedule swelling like a tide that had swallowed their plans whole. The aroma of cold coffee lingered in the air, a stark reminder of the mornings they used to share, chatting about their dreams before the day's responsibilities washed over them.

Her phone buzzed, startling her. She glanced at the screen, expecting a message from Arthur, perhaps a simple "Miss you," or "Can't wait to see you tonight." But it was just another notification from his YouTube channel, announcing a new collaboration with a fellow musician. Her heart sank. The screen flashed with images of him smiling with his friends, seemingly unfazed by the void in his personal life. Y/N felt a sting of sadness, realizing she had become an afterthought in his whirlwind of success.

With a sigh, she decided to confront him. It was time to voice her concerns before the distance grew too wide to bridge. She picked up her phone and called Arthur, her heart pounding in her chest. He answered on the third ring, his voice a blend of surprise and fatigue. "Hey, what's up?"

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep her tone light. "I just wanted to check in, see how your day's going."

Arthur's sigh was audible over the phone. "Yeah, it's hectic as usual. The music video's almost done, but the director's a bit of a nightmare."

"That sounds…challenging," she offered, trying to keep the conversation afloat.

"More than you know," Arthur replied, his voice tight with frustration. "Look, I'm just really busy right now. Can we talk about this later?"

Y/N felt the rejection like a slap in the face, but she pushed on. "It's just that…I miss you, Arthur. You've been working non-stop, and it feels like we're living separate lives."

There was a pause, and for a moment, she thought he might have hung up. But then he spoke, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "I'm sorry, but you know how important this is to me. I can't just drop everything because you're feeling clingy."

The word 'clingy' hit Y/N like a knife. She felt her cheeks flush with a mix of anger and hurt. "I'm not being clingy," she said, her voice strained. "I just miss spending time with you." She looked around the room, her eyes blurring with unshed tears. The apartment, once a sanctuary of their shared memories, now felt like a cold, empty stage where she was just a prop in Arthur's one-man show. The anger grew, a slow burn that began to consume her. She knew she wasn't being clingy, just expressing her love and missing her partner.

"You're always working," she continued, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "We never do anything together anymore. It's like I'm invisible."

Arthur's tone shifted, now laced with defensiveness. "Invisible? That's not fair. I'm just trying to build a future for us. You know how much this means to me."

"I do," Y/N said, her voice quivering. "But I need you to understand that I need you too. It's not just about your future, it's about ours."

Arthur's silence stretched for a painfully long moment before he finally spoke. "Look, I'm sorry if it feels that way. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "It's just…it's not nice to be called clingy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It makes me feel like I'm not enough, like I'm just holding you back."

Arthur's voice softened. "That's not what I meant. I know you're not holding me back. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Y/N's grip on the phone tightened. "Then why do you keep pushing me away?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"I'm not pushing you away," Arthur said, sounding genuinely surprised. "I just need some space to breathe, to focus on my work. I thought you understood."

"I do understand," Y/N said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "But I miss you. Can we talk about this in person?"

Arthur's sigh was a heavy gust of wind through the phone. "Alright, I'll be home in an hour. We can talk then."

The wait felt like an eternity to Y/N. She paced the apartment, her thoughts racing. The clock ticked away the minutes, each second a pebble thrown into the river of their relationship, creating ripples of doubt and frustration. She busied herself by lighting a few candles, hoping the warm glow might ease the tension that had settled in the room. The faint scent of vanilla filled the air, a stark contrast to the coldness that had seeped into their lives.

Finally, the door swung open, and Arthur stepped inside, his eyes weary, his shoulders slumped. He dropped his bag to the floor, and she rushed over to greet him, wrapping her arms around his neck. For a moment, he stiffened before relaxing into her embrace. His arms circled her waist, and she felt his chest rise and fall in a deep, tired sigh.

They sat down on the couch, the candlelight casting a soft glow across their faces. Arthur looked into her eyes, searching for the words to explain his absence. "I'm sorry, love," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I know I've been distant. The pressure's been getting to me."

Y/N nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "It's okay," she murmured. "I just miss you."

Arthur's gaze softened, and he gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "I miss you too," he admitted. "But I didn't mean to make you feel like you're not important. You are. You're everything to me."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart aching. "It's just hard," she said, her voice trembling. "I want to support you, but it feels like you're pulling away from me."

Arthur took her hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her palm. "I know, and I'm sorry," he said, his eyes sincere. "This isn't what I wanted for us. I guess I've been so caught up in my work, I didn't realize how much it was affecting you." Arthur took a deep breath, preparing to dive into the depths of their issues. "I've been thinking," he began, "maybe we should set aside some time, just for us. No work, no phones, just… us."

Y/N nodded, a glimmer of hope sparkling in her eyes. "That sounds perfect," she said. "But you have to actually stick to it. I can't keep being the one to remind you."

Arthur squeezed her hand, his gaze earnest. "I will," he promised. "Because I do miss you. And I don't want to lose you."

The conversation continued, the air in the room slowly shifting from tense to hopeful. They talked about their schedules, making plans for date nights and weekend getaways. Arthur listened intently, nodding and agreeing, his eyes never leaving hers. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Y/N felt seen and heard.

As they sat there, the shadows of the room grew long with the setting sun, painting the walls with a warm, comforting glow. The silence that had once felt oppressive now felt like a blanket, wrapping around them as they leaned into each other. It was a silent promise, a vow to work on their relationship, to find a balance between career and love.

Y/N laid her head on Arthur's shoulder, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath her ear. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. They sat like that for a while, basking in the quiet understanding that had been so elusive lately. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it was a start. A step towards rebuilding the connection that had been frayed by time and neglect.

"How about we start with tomorrow?" Arthur suggested, his voice a gentle rumble against her cheek. "I'll clear my schedule, and we can do something together. Just you and me."

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her eyes searching his for any signs of hesitation. Finding none, she smiled, a genuine one that reached her eyes. "I'd like that," she said, her voice a soft whisper.

They spent the rest of the evening planning their day together, the weight of their earlier conversation lifting with every shared laugh and whispered secret. Arthur's fingers danced over the screen of his phone, setting reminders and moving meetings, his determination to make it work palpable in every tap and swipe. They decided on a picnic in the park, followed by a visit to the art gallery, a place they'd talked about going to for months but never found the time.

*****

The next day dawned bright and clear, the kind of London morning that made the city feel alive and full of promise. Arthur woke up early, his heart fluttering with excitement. He had a surprise in store for Y/N, something to make up for the lost moments and the harsh words. He dashed to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as he prepared a breakfast tray with her favorite croissants and a bouquet of wildflowers picked from the local market.

When she woke up to the smell of breakfast and the soft knock on the door, Y/N's eyes lit up. She padded out to the living room, her pajamas rumpled and her hair a mess, but she had never looked more beautiful to Arthur. He watched as she took in the sight before her, the surprise and joy washing over her features. "I know I said I'd make it up to you," Arthur said with a hopeful smile, "but I wanted to start today."

They sat together on the couch, the morning light spilling through the windows, casting a warm glow on their faces. They talked and laughed, sharing stories of their days and dreams for their future. Y/N felt a weight lift from her chest, the warmth of Arthur's love surrounding her like a cozy blanket. As they finished their breakfast, Arthur handed her a small, beautifully wrapped box. "This is just a little something to say I'm sorry," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Inside the box was a necklace, a delicate chain holding a single pearl. It was simple, but to Y/N, it was perfect. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you."

They kissed, a gentle brush of lips that held the promise of more to come. The picnic in the park was everything Y/N had hoped for, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of children playing. They talked and laughed, their words mingling with the chirp of birds and the rustle of leaves. Arthur had even packed her favorite sandwich, and she watched as he took a bite, his eyes never leaving hers.

As the afternoon sun began to set, they strolled hand in hand towards the art gallery. The promise of a quiet afternoon surrounded by beauty and culture was exactly what their hearts needed. The air between them was light, the tension of the past few days replaced with a gentle excitement for the future.

In the soft light of the gallery, they wandered from painting to sculpture, their conversation a gentle symphony of shared thoughts and feelings. Arthur paused in front of a particularly striking piece, his gaze thoughtful. "This reminds me of you," he murmured, his thumb brushing the back of her hand.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering. "How so?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to her, his eyes full of love. "It's full of color, of life, even in the shadows," he said, smiling. "It's complex, beautiful, and makes me feel something deep inside."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as she leaned into him, her heart swelling with love. "Thank you," she murmured, her eyes shining. "You make me feel seen."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of art, music, and shared moments. As they walked home, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the city, Y/N knew that they had turned a corner. The future was uncertain, but for now, she had Arthur by her side, and that was all she needed.

#arthur x reader #arthur hill #arthur hill x reader #imagines #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #british youtubers #musician

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porcelainseashore · 9 months ago

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Ghosts from the Past (5)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Smut content warning applies in this chapter. Leon and Reader have been dancing around each other long enough!

AO3 Link

Chapter 5: Unravel

You led Ada through the back entrance, where the staff and stage crew usually entered. It was locked as there was no performance today, but she had acquired the key, thanks to you. The door creaked open as you shuffled inside, welcomed only by the stagnant air and the warm rays of early afternoon light pouring into the musty rooms.

It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Weird. Even though it was an unofficial rest day, there would usually be a cleaner roaming the hallways or a dancer rehearsing in the studio.

As you followed the route you had memorized by heart, you noticed that Ada also seemed to know her way around the place. You felt her steps matching yours, anticipating right and left turns before they happened. At the first false wall, she surprised you by pulling on the lever hidden behind an ornamental vase.

“If you already know where to go, why am I even here?” You questioned suspiciously, as you continued down the secret passageway.

“Let’s say I like to cover all bases.” She gave you a cryptic smile. “To get what I really want.”

“Great,” you grumbled. “Another evasive one.”

She huffed, finding humor in your complaint. “Pity Silje doesn't know her favorite protégé is working against her.”

Was that a veiled threat? You swallowed hard as guilt seeped into your chest. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. You weren’t supposed to face Silje like this; you wouldn’t know how to look her in the eye after what you had done.

Ada noticed your hesitance. “Or are you having second thoughts?”

Your simmering anger had become palpable, but you held your tongue and looked away. She was just trying to get you to crack, you inwardly rationalized.

As you went from room to room, the labyrinthine pathways blended seamlessly into one another, as if you were going through the same sections again and again in circles. The only change was that the time it took to pass through the distance between them seemed to increase each round. It was like the space was growing from within, even though it was physically impossible. You assumed it was an illusory effect. Whichever architect who had designed this was a genius.

It was at this point where you witnessed a subtle change in Ada’s behavior. Her eyes darted around more frequently than usual, and every now and then, her lips pursed lightly, as if she were becoming agitated by the maze, and this wasn't what she had expected. Despite her poker face, perhaps she didn’t know her way around entirely after all.

When she paused to examine some markings on a wall, you seized the opportunity presented by her distraction to jam your hands into your back pocket. The zip ties cut into your wrists, but you finally managed to reach for the Swiss Army knife, flicking it open.

However, nothing could escape her watch, not to mention her lightning reflexes. Just as you were about to use it to break free, she knocked the knife out of your hands with ease. It clattered onto the ground, as you looked on defeatedly. You braced yourself for some sort of punishment to be dished out, but it never came.

“Bold,” she smirked. “Quite the rebel, aren’t you?”

It almost came across like she was impressed. Or was she mocking your feeble attempt at escaping?

“You know, we are more alike than you think,” she suggested. “Maybe that’s why he saw something in you.”

You glared at her in repugnance. There was no way in hell the two of you were even remotely similar, and that was not why Leon had loved you in the first place. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“I would never be like you,” you seethed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she responded nonchalantly. “Especially when given the right motivations.”

Your exchange was cut short, however, when from a distance, you heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing. Ada quickly yanked you aside to hide behind a wall, covering your mouth with her gloved hand. As the footsteps drew closer, they slowed down. From the sound of delicate metal scraping against the floor, it seemed someone had discovered the knife you had left there. Shit, would you be caught now?

A split second later, you heard your name being called. Leon! He had come for you like he had said. Your cries in response were muffled by Ada’s grip tightening around your mouth, as she pulled you further away into the labyrinth, but her movements were slowed by your resistance. It was only a matter of time until Leon caught up.

“Give it up, Ada.”

He had his handgun aimed at her as she whipped around to face him. Although she no longer tried to dampen your voice, she still kept you in an ironclad hold, with no intention of letting go any time soon. Her words were coated with frustration. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“That’s not exactly in my dictionary.” He leaned in, focusing his laser sight to improve accuracy.

“You wouldn’t shoot me,” she asserted unwaveringly.

His expression faltered briefly, as if he were experiencing a strong case of déja vù, but he steeled himself again. “Test my patience and I just might.”

You felt Ada’s grasp on you shift. Oh, she was getting unnerved alright, and it felt like you had just entered unwittingly into an ex-lovers’ spat.

As you took in the sight of the room you were in, that’s when you recognized something from your memory: a trapdoor. You were coincidentally standing right above it on the carpeted floor, though you weren’t sure where it led to. In your quick assessment, it was a choice between this never-ending standoff and taking a chance by using the trapdoor as a distraction. You knew where the switch was. You just had to time it correctly.

During a pause in their heated discussion, you established eye contact with Leon. Synchronously, you inched your foot out, pressing it against the camouflaged wooden piece lying at the side, while yelling at him to take notice. In that instant, you and Ada whooshed through the opened door, tumbling into an obsidian pit, past a bunch of rocks with a faint, iridescent glow. You heard Ada’s gasp as she fiddled with her grapple gun, but the surfaces were too slippery to hook onto. It was a miracle that you managed to catch her by surprise.

You couldn’t tell how far down you were going. However, your fall soon ended with a thud on what resembled soft, black mud. Your body felt bruised and battered, but at least nothing was broken. From a shrill shriek that was emitted, you realized Ada hadn’t fared so well.

As your eyes adjusted to the dimness of your surroundings, you saw her lying on the ground, clutching at a sharp rock that had embedded itself within her leg. A loud yelp ripped through the air, as she pried out the object, causing streams of blood to ooze down the open gash. At that moment, another figure landed in, grunting as he broke his fall with cat-like grace.

A bright beam from his flashlight illuminated the area as Leon got up, dusting himself off. The key card, having come loose from Ada’s possession in the fall, lay between the two of you. Without a second thought, he nabbed it, barely casting a quick glance over his shoulder at her before heading towards you.

“You ok?” He asked, his voice laced with worry, as he cut off the zip tie. Wrapping an arm under your shoulders and around your waist, he lifted you to your feet.

“Yeah, just dazed,” you coughed out, rubbing the sore abrasions on your wrists while looking around.

“What about-” You stopped yourself as you observed the empty space behind him, where Ada had been just a minute ago. “She’s gone.”

He spun around in the direction you were staring at. “It’s what she does, I guess.” He shrugged, as if the same scene had repeated itself one too many times before.

However, his tone changed when he turned back to you, grabbing the lapel of your coat with a severe look in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again!”

“What, you had a better idea than squabbling with your ex?” Your defensiveness kicked in at his scolding, and you pushed him off roughly.

“She’s not my- ugh!” He groaned, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Let’s just get out of here. I need to keep you safe.”

You bowed your head in agreement, deciding it was best not to go any further down the rabbit hole. Walking along beside him, both of you searched for a way to escape this uncanny underground place. The walls were covered in jagged rocks caked in a dark, greasy substance that glistened in the light, and the air was damp, causing drops of moisture to drip down from above. Occasionally, you heard small creatures scurrying around, but otherwise, everything else was as still as a dormouse.

“Do you think they’re growing something here?” You pointed at the wet matter leaking from the surfaces.

“I hope not,” Leon sighed. “Because this would be a lot more than we bargained for.”

He scraped a sample of it into a compact container, which came with a mini spatula similar to those found in laboratories, before placing it back into a pocket of his tactical pants.

Then, you heard a series of clunks coming from the corner, causing you to jump in fright. “What was that?”

He shone his flashlight towards the source and you saw a lone rope ladder swaying in the darkness. Its wooden cross beams were hitting the side of the wall, but there was no one on it.

“Hm.” He cracked a weak smile, shaking his head, like someone had eluded him in a game of hide-and-seek. “Our way out.”

Just as you neared the ladder, you felt a dull, throbbing ache spread throughout your head, causing you to come to a halt and clasp the wall to steady yourself. A child’s voice called your name from a distance, reverberating within your skull. As it faded away, you found Leon holding you with a distressed look on his face. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine…” You shuddered, trying to get rid of that bizarre sensation you had felt earlier. “This place just gives me the creeps,” you reasoned.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he gave you another once-over before continuing. He helped you onto the ladder first, so that he could support you from behind in case anything happened. You began your ascent and noticed that the air became drier the higher you climbed.

Shortly after, you pulled yourself up into a dead-end tunnel with a hatch on its low ceiling. Leon lifted it open, looking around before giving you the all-clear. You were now in an unassuming storage room in the upper levels of the labyrinth. Just beyond that was the theater space.

“Huh. Guess this needs to be added to the blueprint,” you muttered.

There was some commotion going on outside of the room you were in. Looks like the people were back. Leon brought a finger to his lips to hush you, as he crouched and withdrew his gun from his holster. Opening the door quietly, he peeked through the narrow slit and waited until the noise subsided, before beckoning you to follow him. You assumed a similar stealthy position and sneaked out of the building.

When you were finally back out on the streets, the evening sky and crisp, wintry air greeted you. He led you to a stylish black motorcycle parked a few blocks away. Since when had he learnt how to ride one of these things?

“Courtesy of Hunnigan,” he explained, when he spotted your raised eyebrow. “Took a while. Red tape and all that.”

Bergmann, of course.

“Here’s the plan,” he began. “We’ll grab your stuff and then head to my place. I’ll watch over you until we can get you back to HQ tomorrow.”

“HQ?” You asked out of confusion.

“DC.”

“I know… but why?”

You weren’t told about any of this in advance and once again, you had more questions than answers.

“Trust me, it’ll be safer there while I finish this. I don’t want things to blow up, but you never know,” he clarified.

“Did Bergmann greenlight this?”

“No, we did.”

How did he manage to bypass your handler’s authority? You imagined her hitting the roof when she found out.

“And after what we saw down there, we need to get you screened. It’s part of the protocol,” he continued, before adding softly, “I’ll make sure they treat you well.”

“I-” You paused, trying to formulate an appropriate response to the information you had just been overloaded with. “You’re expecting me to leave everything behind?”

“Just temporarily, until the dust settles,” he reassured you. “Unless…” He trailed off, interrupting himself before he could complete the sentence.

“Unless?” You questioned.

“Never mind.” He handed you a spare helmet, gesturing for you to take the back seat. “Let’s go.”

As the engine revved to life, he turned to face you, and you swore you could make out his shit-eating grin behind the tinted visor of his helmet. “Hang on tight.”

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, as he drove off into the night.

━━━━━━━━━━━

It didn't take long for you to pack your belongings, or rather, the bare essentials. You had never really accumulated much over the years. Nevertheless, there was a strange, almost surreal feeling in bidding farewell to your apartment for an indefinite period of time.

Upon reaching his place, Leon conducted a perimeter check and adjusted the security settings before allowing you to settle in.

“What if Ada comes back for the card?” You asked in passing.

“Doubt it,” he stated rather matter-of-factly. “She’ll need time to lick her wounds.”

“Right.”

After all the muck you had been dragged through, you decided to busy yourself by cleaning up in the bathroom. As you showered, it began to dawn on you that the grazes you had on your wrists from the zip tie was gone, and even though you were pretty certain that your ribs had been bruised from the fall, they were nowhere to be seen. Everything looked as immaculate as ever. Were you going crazy and imagining things? You chalked it up to the exceptional amount of stress you had been through in the last 24 hours.

Changing into your night slip, you made your way towards the living room while towel drying your hair. That’s when you caught sight of Leon holding the framed photo of the two of you during your college graduation, staring at it, seemingly oblivious that you were standing at the entrance in the hallway. He must have seen it when your backpack was left open while you were in the bathroom, but that didn’t give him the right to touch your stuff, especially when it started to stir up unwanted emotions within you.

“You still kept it, after all these years…”

Looks like he had been aware of your presence after all.

You didn’t respond, striding purposefully into the room, as you snatched the frame from him and chucked it back into your bag. “I should have just left it to rot,” you muttered out of spite.

“You don’t mean that.” Moving towards you, he curled his fingers under your chin, and tilted it to face him. “Here, you dropped something.” He took the Swiss Army knife out from his pocket and offered it to you.

But you remained motionless. “Keep it,” your voice quivered.

It’s just better this way. His remark from the bar about a week ago resounded in your ears.

Upon your rejection, his visage crumbled and gradually, you witnessed his cool, confident facade peel away to reveal something broken underneath. He appeared extremely worn down, as though he had been through a war zone. Blood and grime stained his shirt, and a purplish bruise was blooming on the side of his cheek.

“I’m tired. Just so tired…” he admitted under his breath, placing the knife on the table beside him. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” You wondered out loud.

“Push you away,” he whispered.

You didn’t know what to make of his response. It was an answer, yet not exactly one. And that was driving you insane. So, you argued back with the only piece of information you had, even though you knew it was a low blow. “Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you brought Ada into the picture.”

Furrowing his brows in agitation, he let out a heavy sigh and exclaimed, “It’s not about Ada! It’s about you!”

This was the first time you had seen him so riled up, but his rage was infectious, and you used the energy to fight fire with fire. “Fuck you, Leon! Stop bullshitting me!” You shouted back. “I’m sick of you hiding things!”

“Ok, fine. No more secrets,” he conceded, understanding that you weren’t going to let him off this time. Not unless he wanted to lose you again for real. With this in mind, he decided to tell you what you wanted to know, despite the pain it would cause you.

“Ada and I… it happened in Raccoon City.”

Raccoon City? A searing fury took hold over you, as you realized what that meant.

“You moved on to her the day you left,” you mouthed in disbelief. “And I was the idiot who waited and grieved for you.”

Pointing at him accusingly, you sneered, “The best part about it is you weren’t even dead! You just didn’t care!”

At this, he slammed his fist on the table, raising his voice over yours. “That’s a goddamn lie and you know that!”

His face was red with indignation as he insisted, “I care… I’ve always cared.”

You scoffed and turned away from him, your eyes burning and watery, even though deep down you knew he was telling the truth. “Then, explain it to me!”

He was shaking. You couldn’t tell if it was due to fear or anger. “After you and I broke up, I just wanted someone who would understand what I had been through.”

A lump formed in his throat as he continued. “She saved my life a couple of times. And we… uh, we kissed.”

He looked at you with regret, simultaneously attempting to gauge your reaction to what he had divulged. But you stonewalled him.

“Yeah, I liked her. And in a way, I still do care for her, I guess,” he confessed. “But she wasn’t the person I thought she was. I don’t think she’ll ever be that person.”

“You can’t get over her, can you?” You stated bitterly.

“Already have,” he declared. “For a while now.”

“I don’t know how to trust you.” You wanted to, so badly. But after the emotional rollercoaster he had put you through, you were at a loss.

His eyes filled up in despair. It was as if your words had winded him and stabbed him in the gut.

“What I said after the club… it was out of guilt, and I didn’t want to get too close.” He paused for a moment to recollect himself. “I just- I… needed to protect you.”

“From what?” You quizzed. Is that why he didn’t come back?

He sucked in a deep breath, like what he was about to relay was something he would rather forget. “Raccoon City - it was hell.” He twisted his mouth in distaste. “Like Terragrigia… and the government covered it all up.”

You watched as his eyes glazed over, replaying the trauma he had suffered as if it were an old film loop. “Everyone died around me. I-I couldn’t do shit.”

A cynical laugh escaped him. “Some fucking cop I was.”

You began to understand why he had been so quiet about his past. The torment he had been putting himself through, the survivor’s guilt, the ravaged city, and the injustice of it all haunted him incessantly.

Instinctively, you took a couple of steps towards him, wanting to close the distance somehow, even though you were afraid of getting burnt again.

His features softened as he saw you draw nearer, though it transformed into a frown when he relived through another set of memories. “They made me work for them, because I knew too much, and-”

He paused, biting his tongue in an effort to restrain his anger. “In exchange for the life of a little girl.”

But his temper soon flared up again. “Those bastards dangled her like a fucking carrot in front of my face! What was I supposed to do?”

You flinched at his outburst and he eyed you apologetically, dropping his head in shame. “I didn’t know who I could turn to. I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Leon…” You reached out, ghosting your fingers along the side of his arm.

He didn’t pull away this time, but he couldn’t bear to look at you, afraid of what you might think of him. “Not a day goes by where I don’t feel like it should’ve been me who died down there.”

“I thought about ending it,” he continued. “But you wanted me to remember I am a good person. That I would do the right thing. And I knew it was to keep going.”

You didn’t judge him. You accepted him as how he was, including all the pain and flaws. In front of you was the boy you had left behind 7 years ago - scared, helpless and alone. And so, you took the plunge, gathering him into your arms as you comforted him.

“Leon, it’s ok.” He leaned into your embrace like he had been starved of contact for a long time. “I’m here. You’re ok,” you reassured him.

“I didn’t want to drag you into this, but they got to you anyway,” he sighed into your hair, cradling your waist firmly against him, as though he was unwilling to let you go.

“Every night, I dream of you… dying,” he choked. “And I can’t- I… can’t save you.”

You should have seen this coming: him not wanting you to get involved, pushing you away, and his whole savior complex - just to protect you from the inevitable. As for Ada, you would never be able to change how he felt about her. Yet, in a way, you understood why he chose you in the end. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

“You don’t have to bear this burden on your own, you know,” you mentioned, caressing the back of his head tenderly.

“I’m a fucking mess, you deserve-”

God, he could be so stubborn sometimes. “Leon,” you interrupted.

Cupping the sides of his face in your hands, you looked him straight in the eye. “I chose this life, ok? And I’m choosing right here, right now, that I want to be with you. To hell and back.”

His gaze widened as he took in what you said. “Like you promised.”

A wave of nostalgia washed over you, as a distant memory from your teenage years flooded your mind, transporting you back to the bleachers of your high school football field. Both of you had sat there together in the dead of winter, and you told him that you would be there for him. To hell and back.

You smiled wistfully. “Yeah, like I promised, dumbass.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours fervently, devouring your mouth in a stream of torrid kisses, wet and sloppy, like he was trying to make up for lost time. Pushing you up against the nearest wall, he teased your lips with his tongue and you parted them, allowing him easy entrance as you let out a soft, heady moan. He deepened the kiss, swirling his tongue against yours fiercely, unable to get enough of you.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you,” he murmured breathlessly when he came up for air amid the waves of kisses.

Baby. You shivered in pleasure, hearing his pet name for you for the first time after years of being apart. “I missed you too.”

“Please, let me take care of you,” he pleaded, securing a hand on your hip, as he slowly reached the other under your night slip, trailing it up your inner thigh, between your legs.

As you felt his fingertips brush against your clit through your underwear, you ground your hips forward subconsciously, desperate for his touch. Both of you were diving in headfirst even though things were still raw, but something about this felt right and you didn’t want to wait anymore. You claimed his lips again briefly, before encouraging him to go further.

Dragging his wet tongue along your neck and down across your body, he knelt in front of you, bunching up the hem of your slip and hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear to strip it off. You closed your eyes as you felt his hot breath against your pussy, gasping as he ran his tongue through your glistening folds, lapping and sucking it eagerly.

“Mm… I could never get tired of how you taste,” he groaned huskily, before tracing circles with his tongue on your clit.

You chewed on your bottom lip, a smile breaking out at his compliment, as you recalled how vocal he - and you - could be during sex. He spread your legs wider and hiked one of them over his shoulder for better access, dipping his tongue into your slit, as your juices and his saliva trickled down your thighs. Tangling your hands in his hair, you gave in to the tingling sensations that rippled through your body.

He continued thrusting his tongue into you relentlessly, while stroking your clit with his thumb. “Shit, oh god-” you whined, grasping frantically at the wall behind you. “That feels so good.”

Burying his face further into your mound, he tried to bring you closer to the edge, as you felt a familiar knot in your belly tightening with every lick, suck and kiss. You bucked your hips, riding his face feverishly as you chased after your orgasm. Soon, it came crashing down, and you arched your back off the wall, wailing in rapture, while your thighs clenched around his head.

The high melded into a feeling of warm, viscous honey, as he caught you in an embrace when you slumped over, dizzy and panting.

“I got you, baby,” he cooed, rubbing your back soothingly, as he held you up. “That’s it.”

His pillowy lips, moist with your arousal, captured yours in a tender kiss. When he broke away, you nuzzled his neck gratefully, part of you still contemplating if this was real.

“I don’t want to let you go,” your voice came out muffled, as you burrowed yourself deeper into his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. Despite the blood and dirt, he smelled as you remembered him, of fresh citrus and musk, with a hint of cedar.

“You have me,” he promised, planting another delicate kiss on your cheek, soft like raindrops on a rose petal in the morning. “Always.”

You locked eyes with him, drowning in the pool of his blue irises, which were burning with desire for more. Scooping you up into his strong arms, he carried you out, past the hallway to the bedroom and placed you down on the mattress. He tugged off his clothes before helping you out of your slip, casually discarding it onto the floor.

His breath hitched as he admired the way you lay there, naked and wanting, completely vulnerable for him. Crawling on top of you, he bent down, leaving a string of open mouthed kisses from your neck to your breast.

“So beautiful,” he hummed, flicking his tongue against your nipple, before taking it into his mouth and suckling it. Letting it go with a pop, he claimed, “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Mm, neither have you.”

His huff turned into a low moan as you wrapped your fingers around his fully erect cock, the tip red with need and leaking of precum. You pumped its shaft languidly as he rutted into your fist, growing impatient to feel more of you.

“Fuck- I want to be inside of you,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

You nodded, grazing your fingers against his lips as he slipped them into his mouth, sucking on them hard. The next instant, he flipped you over, sitting on his knees behind you as he splayed your legs on either side of him, pulling your back flush against his chest. He held your hip in one hand while using his other to guide his cock towards your entrance. You whimpered as you sank down onto him, a raw burst of pleasure flooding your brain as he filled you up. Nestled in his lap, you fit him perfectly like a glove.

He gave you a moment to adjust to the intrusion before setting a slow, sensual pace, stretching you out deeply with each thrust. You rocked your hips back into him, like a bitch in heat, unable to control the lewd sounds that came from your throat.

Squeezing your breasts, he rose to his knees, lifting you up along with him, as he picked up the speed. He nipped at your neck, licking and sucking on it to mark you as his. You could already feel a red welt forming on its surface.

“You like that?” He asked.

“Ah- yes! Please, Leon,” you gasped, trembling as you moved in sync to his rhythm more vigorously.

He chuckled at your reaction, “Only I can make you feel this good, huh?”

“Yes,” you professed, surrendering yourself entirely. “Only you.”

Upon hearing your admission, he growled with lust and fucked up into you harder. “Look at you,” he whispered in your ear, turning you in the direction of the wardrobe mirror that faced the bed. “Taking me so well.”

Through half-lidded eyes, you saw yourself, almost unrecognizable, in the reflection. Your face was flushed, body slick with sweat, and your nipples were hard and swollen from his teasing. A rosy hue had spread across your ass from his thrusting.

He was amping up the dirty talk. But it only served to turn you on even more.

In the heat of the moment, you rasped, “Ruin me.”

You felt his cock twitch inside of you as soon as you uttered it. Craning your neck to meet his gaze, you asserted, “Make me so no one else will ever want me.”

God, where was all that filth coming from? You even surprised yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed loudly. His eyes reflected a voracious look of hunger that seemed to consume the very space between you. “You’re gonna make me cum like this, baby.”

He brought a hand up to your throat, straightening you out against him even further as he slammed his cock roughly into your pussy. Wet slaps filled the room, his balls hitting against your clit repeatedly, while you clung tightly to his grip. You tilted your head backwards, resting it against his shoulder as you cried, “Yes, yes, oh fuck- Leon!”

Suddenly, he pulled out of you and threw you onto your back, causing you to whine from the loss of contact. He hoisted your ankles over his shoulders, giving them a quick kiss before leaning his weight onto you and folding your knees to your chest.

You let out a strangled cry as he penetrated you from this new angle, stimulating the sensitive spot along the walls of your aching cunt. “God, you’re so fucking good for me,” he grunted through labored breaths, already feeling himself coming close.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, clawing at his wrists which caged you in beside your head.

He railed you mercilessly into the mattress, causing the headboard to bang against the bedroom wall with each sharp thrust. It felt as if he was releasing all his pent-up emotion and compensating for every moment he had spent without you in the past.

As you reached your climax, your walls tightened around his cock and your eyes rolled back, while you screamed his name in ecstasy. All you could see was a blinding white light, with every muscle in your body tensing and your toes curling in response, as he rode you through it.

The sight of you tipped him over the edge and his pace stuttered. His face twisted in pleasure as he called out your name over and over, spurting thick ropes of his hot seed into your cunt. He continued to roll his hips forward gently in waves, taking a while to come down from his high.

Caressing your cheek affectionately, he placed a lingering kiss on your lips, before pulling out of you and dropping to your side. A mixture of both of your fluids stained his pelvis and your thighs as proof of what had transpired. It dripped onto the sheets like a bleeding sign.

As you listened to each other’s heartbeats and breathing in the calm silence, Leon took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together.

“Stay with me,” he proposed again, wiping the slate clean of your rejection 7 years ago.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you turned towards him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was at that moment you observed a distinct, indented scar adorning his left shoulder, serving as a ragged reminder of a past ordeal. You traced the outline of it with your fingers, while he held your hand close and kissed the white of your knuckles.

“I still love you,” he affirmed.

You knew that tonight wasn't the sole solution to all the problems you still had to work through together. But it was a start, and you were willing to give it another shot.

This time, it can be different. You covered his hands in yours, bringing them to your lips, as you spoke, “I’ll stay.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #re4 leon #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil #fic: ghosts from the past #porcelainscribbles

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madeholyy · 1 year ago

Text

you & i ; leon kennedy / reader

and i'm not normally the jealous, jealous type. but if we're picking favorites than i am yours. [jealousy, requited unrequited love]

He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see it clear as day in his eyes. Or at least you think you could. Leon was quiet and focused, repeatedly checking on his hand gun like he didn’t believe it was perfectly fine. You fiddle with your combat knife between your fingers while stealing glances at him. No matter how many times you asked if he was alright he always gave the same excuse: It’s just Ashley. But it wasn’t. He was worried, but his mind was occupied with something else— someone else. It wasn’t any of your business, but the haunted look swirling about the solid blue in his eyes was your ghost as well. She might as well wrap her gloved hands around the column of your neck and squeeze the air from your lungs with the aftershocks she sent through you both. An appearance from an echo of another time, another place.

And the silence was the worst part of all.

It gnawed on the marrow of your bones and made a home in your chest. He barely acknowledged any attempt you made at a conversation. You wanted the sky to open up and swallow you whole; break every bone in your body and tear you so finely apart you were nothing more than stardust. Maybe you’d come back as a hurricane or an earthquake. Maybe you’d unleash your anguish and heartbreak in a fury of raging winds and seismic waves. You didn’t care what you’d leave behind in the wake of your destruction, everyone else be damned. What mattered was the aftermath. The peace beyond satisfaction as you wither into nothingness. But you weren’t a devastating storm, you were just devastating. And it hurt to feel so small with someone who made you feel so warm. Leon never talked about her much, but he confided in you enough for you to know whatever you guys were was in jeopardy if not already damaged beyond repair. His demeanor only solidified the fear.

Then he stood up and you watched his every movement right down to the way his shoulders rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing. He holstered his gun. You faced the knife blade down between your thighs and dug it into the wooden chair beneath you. He avoided eye contact. Your knuckles turned white from the sheer force of your anger-turned-suppressed-sadness. Did you even exist to him right now?

“Let’s get goin’.” His voice held firm, but you felt anything but. Standing up after him, you slide the knife back into its sheath wrapped against your thigh. You figure a small hum in response would suffice. Before walking out behind him, you glance back at the window that is wide open and clench your jaw. Then you swiftly turn away.

You suppose you should have realized Leon wasn’t serious about you two. All those flirty exchanges and nothing to show for them. You had thought this was just the usual talking stage, but perhaps he never planned for it to go past that. Of course, why would he? With a woman as beautiful as her it would be no competition. You follow him through a hallway in disarray with only a single room at the end of it. Chairs, tables, and other furnishing items were shoved up against the walls with no regard. Inside the small room was nothing special, but you looked around regardless. The fireplace was lit and wood burned and crackled within. There was a table with books and cups strewn across it with chairs around it. You stepped forward, placing your hand on the book that rests at the end of the table. Your eyes scanned over the pages and you barely noticed Leon attempting to press on.

“You could let me get a good look around before you rush me.” You narrowed your eyes at him, your voice dull of emotion. He seems a bit taken aback by it, but his expression melts away into something more his speed; neutral.

“We have more important things to do than read.” Leon holds your gaze and you roll your eyes only to abide by his pace in the end.

His hand reaches out for you. You look up at him from the ground, cautious and hesitant, but accept his help. You didn’t realize how badly you had been smacked into the stone wall until he examined you from behind.

“That’s gonna make a nasty ass bruise.” He scoffs, his demeanor different all of a sudden. You’re quiet, studying his face for a sign. Your lack of reaction causes him to stare back with something almost unreadable then his gaze drops to your lips and back up to your eyes. There’s something soft, but you’re so scared of his soft. Quickly looking away, you roll your shoulder back a few times and groan.

“They pack a punch in here… I hope Ashley is okay. I know they wouldn’t—“ You pause, inhale, then exhale, “Let’s just fine her.”

Leon keeps his eyes trained on you and you alone. He makes you feel naked under his stare; vulnerable and exposed. There’s a beat then he’s matching your steps down the path before you. It’s so painfully awkward, but you only have yourself to thank for that. It would’ve been easier to play the stupid, oblivious second choice as you assumed he’d want you to. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to be selfish in a job that forced you to be only selfless. You wanted him in every possible way and so painfully wholeheartedly it made you want to cry. So badly it felt too heavy on your chest and you struggled to breath against the weight of your wants. What did you have to do to be enough? The pain rushed through you in quick succession. You were thankful Leon was behind you or he’d see the way your lip quivered as you fought back tears the welling in your eyes.

Leon never promised a future together. He never even let you get your hopes too high. It always hurt knowing he wasn’t all in like you were, but you accepted it nonetheless. Now you feel foolish. You couldn’t convince someone to love you.

Ashley was elated to reunite with you both after Leon comforted her. You stayed back guarding the door, unable to look her in the eyes. She would know something wasn’t quite right with a glance. It was a talent you weren’t anticipating dealing with. Ever since you had both located and saved her, Ashley was keen on asking you questions about your relationship with Leon. You wouldn’t give clear cut answers, but the way your cheeks dusted pink and you tried to hide a smile, Ashley knew. She would be able to spot it a mile away. The older sister-younger sister dynamic came easily between you two as you were relatively close in age to begin with. It was sweet, but also terrifying how she could pinpoint your thoughts with accuracy. Maybe that was your downfall. You wore your heart on your sleeve and Leon kept every little thought and emotion locked up tightly. He wasn’t stoic by any means; capable of laughing, smiling, and joking. He was just…guarded. Way better at it than you were. If she couldn’t get answers from him she could get them from you. It was easy to tell yourself that talking about how you felt made it somewhat better, but then you’d have to admit what you avoided. You’d have to tell Ashley she was right all along. These were words you weren’t sure you could say.

There was a knock on the double door behind you. A signal that he and Ashley were finished talking. Once you had walked in, Ashley ran up and hugged you with all her might (which was surprisingly a lot). Her head easily rested against your shoulder due to you both being very similar heights. You, of course, embraced her back and the lump in your throat came back. Warm, comforting…it was what you needed most with your conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The moment was broken by Luis on Leon’s earpiece. You and Ashley slowly pulled away from each other as you watched. From what you both could hear it sounded as if Luis was in quite a predicament. You frowned, but there was a hint of amusement in your eyes at their interaction. The transmission is cut short and Leon’s face is contorted in annoyance.

“Can’t believe that guy.” He scoffs, doing one last sweep of the room for anything remotely useful before your journey continues.

“He’s in trouble. We can’t just leave him, right?” Ashley was not fully separated from you, concern glistening in her eyes. She was sweet, but Leon looked exasperated having to come to Luis’s aid. He was an interesting guy despite his past dealings and you couldn’t lie about feeling distrusting of him, but he made you laugh and it was hard to not like someone who did that. You join him in taking a quick look around before he pushes the door open to reveal a hedge maze below. You lean against the railing, pulling your rifle off your pack and situated in your hands. You peered through the scope. A lone Colmillo stalked a pathway across from your group.

“Fifteen?” You asked.

“This isn’t even a fair bet.” Leon huffed a small laugh, crossing his arms as he watched your target. You hummed, taking aim and watching for a moment to catch the creature off guard. The second he stood still your finger squeezed the trigger and a loud shot rang out across the maze. His body fell limp to the floor. You leaned back and Leon whistled, ruffling your hair. For just a minute you forgot why you were even upset and welcomed his gentle touch.

“Alright, write it down. I owe you fifteen bucks.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you. When his back turned, you watched him saunter off down the steps with his handgun ready. Ashley glanced at you.

“Did he do something?” Her voice was soft and gentle as if you were a cornered animal. You hardly realized the frown on your lips and the way your eyebrows creased together. His retreating form made you feel empty. Loneliness thrived.

“Let's not fall behind.” You smiled in her direction, but it never reached your eyes. Now it was Ashley’s turn to frown, but she complied.

Your knuckles turned pearly white as you gripped the golden bars of your cage. Your eyes were focused on the balcony above you where Ashley had been taken. Leon hurried to unlock a door, but was interrupted by another call on his ear piece.

“Ada?” His voice speaking her name caused your stomach to plummet far, far down— or at least that’s how it felt. Every nerve in your body trembled as you bow your head against the bars. The conversation seemed brief as not a minute later he was calling out her name frantically then sighed. You couldn’t even stand the thought of looking at him. It seems that’s all you have felt this last hour; unable to confront the one person you should be able to trust the most.

“C’mon— Hey, are you alright?” His hand barely grazed your shoulder before you whipped around and stared at him with wide eyes. He seemed stunned himself, holding his hand in the air, mouth agape. You couldn’t think, couldn’t move. The ache in your heart and the burning in your lungs. Your chest feels heavy and constricted and you could only watch as he lowered his hand and waited on your cue. But there wasn’t a cue. You wanted to scream at him, but you also wanted to run off alone and scream until your throat was raw and bloodied. Attracting the attention of the castle's inhabitant did not matter, but thinking rationally wasn’t on your agenda currently. You bit the inside of your cheek and inhaled a trembling breath.

“...I’m sorry. I just…” But you couldn’t finish your thought or rather your excuse as none came readily to mind. It should’ve been easy to blame the things you endured, but that wasn’t it. And even if you were to voice the real reason you would feel idiotic. Leon was in mission mode and didn’t need a lovesick girl making a scene while the President’s daughter was snatched from their hands.

“You haven’t been acting like yourself. One moment you’re talking to me like normal and the next you’re— You seem so angry.” Of course he would pick the worst time to wrangle the truth from you. His eyes were so sincere, but his features weren’t soft. There was determination dancing in his tone as he spoke.

“It’s just this whole mission.” You were quick to excuse yourself, but Leon followed.

“Is that really it?” He brushed his fingers on your elbow, but you refused to look back at him. You’d kill for one of those Zealots to interrupt this moment, but God wasn’t so kind.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but everything is so fucked up. I’m just not doing so well.” It absolutely murdered you to seem so weak and vulnerable to something you both had been groomed for, but it was easier to use that as an excuse than confess to being head over heels for your partner. Of course, it wasn’t like Leon hadn’t already blurred that line. He proved it in the way he stepped around you to stand face to face once more. You didn’t need to look up to know exactly how he was watching you. In fact, it was better you didn’t. One look into those mesmerizing blue eyes and your anger and sadness would waver. It was so easy to forget when he looked at you like that. Leon cautiously raised a hand and wrapped it very gently around your elbow, caressing the material of your black long sleeve. The fabric had already been snared by a close call with a Zealot and his crossbow. He could make out the vibrant blue and purple painting the soft skin of your arm. You were littered in battle wounds and deep bruises.

“We’ll handle this the same way we always have. Together.” He was soft spoken and reassuring. It only made you want to cry. How could he be so kind when breaking your heart?

“Yeah…yeah. Let’s go find Ashley.” You finally matched his gaze with a meek smile. He was hurting you and didn’t even notice. Leon was ever the oblivious type unless you made it apparent. He looked over you with confliction as if something was stuck in his throat and he didn’t know how to say it. His hand fell down your arm, fingertips bumping against yours as if he was attempting to muster up the courage to hold it. You could feel your heart rate speed up at his simple gesture. You quickly cover the lower half of your face with your hand and turn away from him.

“I said let’s go find Ashley!” You sped walked over to the room that opened up beside you guys earlier.

“As you wish.” He huffed a laugh and you could just hear the smile. He knew he had gotten to you.

The mineshaft was damp, musty, and smelled heavily of rockdust. You sat next to Leon as he flexed his arms, watching the limb very carefully for any protruding veins. Luis proudly leaned against a structure. You wished you could finally breathe a sigh of relief that the suppressant worked, but Leon was a ticking time bomb. Any moment the infection could regain control and the symptoms would resurface. How long did he have until then? What measures could you both take to hold it at bay? You were overthinking and thinking overall was bad, you knew that. If you thought for too long you would eventually break away piece by piece until nothing was left of you but brittle bones and teeth. Your heart was shattering for a man who would not give you his eternity.

So you did the next best thing: walk away from the problem— literally. Feigned the desire to strategize while he recovered and hid away between wooden crates and empty drums. It wasn’t home, but you could breathe. The ache in your chest and lungs subsided as you drew your knees to your chest and wrapped your weary arms around them. Held them as close as you wanted to hold him but he longed for the embrace of another; a woman dressed in red and confidence. An image of her face flashed through your exhaustion riddled mind and you simpered. You were a kettle ready to shriek from the pressure that built deep within. Only your shrieking would be a spectacle. It would be tables turning, glass shattering. You would not go with grace for that was admitting a defeat only you knew of. Was letting go even possible? Leon left a scar on you that would never fade and every fall you’d see him in the fog like a phantom of the past. He was inescapable. And you wanted to be selfish anyways, hold onto him like he’d dissolve into ash if you let go.

“You look…stressed.” A familiar voice startled you out of your thoughts. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights, staring up at Luis as he held your attention with his signature smirk. You scoffed, stretching your legs out while he took a seat beside you.

“That’s an understatement. All this Plagas bullshit is getting on my nerves.” You fibbed through pearly white teeth. The words felt bitter on your tongue and you were unable to hold his gaze.

“Is it really that?” He asked. You froze. Your expression remained neutral, but Luis could feel the confliction radiating off of you like body heat.

“Is that answer not good enough? I know I’m bad at lying, but have some sympathy.” Your words spilled from your lips with a tremble. Your voice cracked into a whisper as if you strained to maintain composure and perhaps that was precisely the struggle. A question. It was simple and you could have lied again. But you were weak and he was honest.

Luis sighed, smiling softly to himself while looking at the ground, “I’ve spent my whole life mastering that and you can’t fool a professional.”

Now you were fraying at the seams. Every emotion bloated in size and threatened to burst. Heavy was the weight you burdened yourself with. Droplets fell like pearls on the floor of the mineshaft, collecting dirt on its spherical surface until it popped and soaked in. You looked up for a brief moment wondering if the ceiling was leaking only to discover you had begun to cry. Ducking your head down again, you pulled the hem of your sleeve up your palm and used it to dab the tears streaming down your face.

“That was kind of corny.” You sputtered a laugh and sniffled.

“Corny? I think you’re just embarrassed and don’t want to admit it.” He was right, but you refrained from answering. Instead, you inhaled deep breaths as you patted down your damp cheeks.

“I guess you can know, but it’s a secret between us.” It was meant to come across as humorous, but you sounded pathetic, “It hurts. Ya’know, being in love with someone who belongs to someone else.”

Luis didn’t interrupt. He also didn’t belittle you for how you felt. He sat there, listening attentively, and occasionally nodding along so you knew he was still listening. It meant the world and more to you. Had Ashley been here you knew you’d have broken down the same way in front of her, but she was so far away and you were so fragile. Luis was a shoulder to cry on; something you needed for a long while.

“I don’t really know the specifics, but…maybe you’re not looking at it from the right angle.” Luis merely suggested and you could hear the struggle in his words as he chose what to say very carefully. It made you laugh again.

“Hey, we ready to go?” This time, Luis was startled as well, but he hid it quickly behind a cheshire grin. You looked up to see Leon a few feet away. In the dim lantern light, he appeared holy. If you were to believe in something, you’d believe in his divinity. Something godly walked among men and you weren’t the religious type, but you didn’t need to be. Shaking your head gently, you stumbled onto your feet. Leon watched you cautiously. You knew your eyes were red and puffy, but you merely walked past him to the path forward. It took awhile for you to realize they had fallen behind, but the further away you were from him, the more at ease you felt.

If looks could kill, yours would be lethal. In fact, you spent the entire boat ride avoiding absolutely any eye contact with Ada. It was awkward and Leon was tense. You expected him to make his move here, but that was more so your imagination. As soon as Ada had left and the boat stilled at shore, you leapt forward to grab his arm. You don’t know what came over you. It was almost on instinct you attached yourself to him. Leon looked down at you, eyes filled with bewilderment. The waves crashed against the rocks below you both, filling the silence with ambient sounds. When he fully turned to face you, you pushed yourself off him and heaved a shaky breath.

“Leon—”

“This is about Ada, isn’t it?” You paused, snapping your head up to meet his eyes. It was like he gave you permission to combust, word vomit everything you had been thinking and feeling the entire time.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” It came out close to a whisper, but you tested the waters with it.

“Hey now—” But he was effectively cut off as you picked up a rock and threw it at the boat with all your might. Now he was just confused. This didn’t stop him taking a step back as you found more ammo to unleash on the one thing that did absolutely nothing to you. You pelted it with stone after stone, grunting at the force with which you launched them. It was the same cycle of scour and attack until you became noticeably feeble with your hurling.

“I hate—” The rock hit the very front and left a noticeable dent, “—her so much! I hate that you love her!”

Then you crumbled, meekly tossing the rocks now with no strength behind them. It was cathartic at first, but quickly became meaningless in the face of heartbreak. You were now a shell of your red-hot anger; a bright flame dwindling in the rain until the glowing embers were burnt out. For the first time since this feeling settled on your stomach, you sobbed inconsolably. You covered your mouth with your palms and leaned forward to curl into yourself and released a scream muffled against your skin. It hurt. Everything hurt and you wanted to puke so hard your intestines fell out of your mouth. You wanted to be gruesome and unsightly. You wanted to be swallowed whole by absolutely anything at this point. Unrequited love was too much to bear. Ashley was gone. Luis was dead. You had no one to lean on while you wept so hard you began to choke and gag. The arms that wrapped around your trembling form were so warm and, even if it was Leon’s, you were desperate for comfort.

“Please, please don’t pick her over me. I can’t live with that. You’re not allowed to break my heart like that. You’re supposed to fall for me.” Your hands came up to grip the material of his black shirt, “I want you, Leon. More than anything and if you pick her, then you pick wrong.”

Your conviction was solid. It had to be you and no one else because who better to understand exactly what he was going through than you? The world could end tomorrow, but all that would matter was that he wanted you more than he ever thought of her. You both could fail this mission, you could become parasitic with the rest of them, but you would know he loved you more. It was a simple choice. You or her and you hoped to god he would choose you any day in any lifetime.

Leon was silent, however. His grip never wavered, but he was in deep thought. Then he pulled back from you and you lifted your head. He leveled his gaze with you. There was something unreadable on his face. His touch was ever so gentle and you swore you would melt if he were any softer. One of his hands reached up to caress your cheek with calloused fingertips. You shuddered, leaning into his touch. As you closed your eyes, you pictured spring and flowers and his smile belonging to you. It was perfect and so were the lip brushing against yours as your eyes fluttered open. There was no time to react; you could only accept his lips pressing against your own in a gentle kiss. There were no sparks, no fireworks, only something akin to the gentle warmth of a fireplace. After what felt like eternity, he pulled away.

“It wasn’t like you gave me a choice anyhow. The moment I looked in your eyes for the very first time, I was fucked.” He chuckled, thumb brushing against your supple cheek as he leaned his forward against your own. You could hardly contain the tears of joy that flooded you now. It felt almost too good to be true, but sometimes that is just the way it goes.

“Good because I was prepared to give a whole speech about it.”

“Powerpoint, too?”

#leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #now im on tumblr bc i enjoy writing again #my works

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