#the betrayal man. the hurt. the PAIN. I love it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Excuse you, where is my "Stiles and Isaac has been secretly dating for a year before Scott got bitten" fanfiction? You know, the one were their relationship got challenged when Stiles began lying to Isaac and finding excused to not meet up, all to help his best friend and co. with everything going on? In which Isaac gets into a big fight with Stiles before he gets turned, which makes things ten times worse when Isaac finds out his boyfriend knew about the supernatural and have been lying all this time? You know what I'm talking about.
#boyfriends to enemies to reluctant allies to boyfriends again#I'm a sucker for secret relationship but also it makes sense for it to be a secret with Isaac's father#I swear Stiles tries at least once a month to convince his boyfriend to report his father after all his father's the sheriff everything is#going to be ok. but also he can understand why Isaac won't do anything about it. All Stiles can do is be there for him#ANYWAY just the idea of people finding out they have been dating all this time? Gold#also the parallels??? because Stiles has prioritised his best friend and supernatural over his own boyfriend where Scott has done the#opposite#we all know Stiles kept it quite just to protect Isaac and keep him away from danger but still. Isaac doesn't see it like that#ok.but them getting back together and then the Nogitsune shit takes place???? they can't catch a break#teen wolf isaac#isaac lahey#teen wolf stiles#stiles stilinski#stiles x isaac#the betrayal man. the hurt. the PAIN. I love it#stisaac#teen wolf stisaac#teen wolf#if there's a fic similar with what I'm saying herr pls pls PLS let me know??? tge idea won't leave my mind and I'm losing it#Scott asking Stiles if he was ok after the break up and Stiles insisting that he's fine while Scott keep insisting and Stiles...#just breakdowns? but like more like blows up. he's hurt and it feels unfair that Scott got to keep the girl and be a werewolf while Stiles#lost everything. even his relationship with his father's shit because of all the lying he has done to protect/help the pack#and for what???#he lowkey knows is not Scott's fault. Stiles has made some choices and has to live up with the consequences#that doesn't really stop it from lashing at scott before starting to have a panick attack over losing Isaac#yk first love and all shit. that hurts the worst
67 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Im more-mouse-bites on ao3 and I came and followed for the mgv content.
I’m writing an ABO house fic of my own atm! I was going to follow the long-beloved trope of “house hides his second gender and everyone thinks he’s an alpha, but then something happens and he’s exposed” but I realized that I could have a lot more fun with having House as a known omega from the start. I have omegas as slightly more uncommon and definitely frowned upon in high-intensity careers like medicine, because of their perceived frailty. I’m such a slut for the socio-economic implications of an ABO universe, lol.
Which segues into my question— in your AU, what’s the general consensus societally on omegas? Does House have to routinely fight against ignorance and dismissal? And if so, how would Wilson react? Or even just to general patients being terrible to House. Would he step in, or would House stop him because that would undermine his credibility?
Really love your AU! Can’t wait to see more ❤️
(hiii thank you for the kind words on here and ao3 kisskiss) house hiding his status as an omega and going through life as a false alpha is great i won't lie, but the idea of house being ASSUMED to be an alpha simply because of how he carries himself and taking great joy in surprising people by being like (loud incorrect buzzer).... the mischief. it's so yummy
that's rly neat!! i definitely believe that omegas being in places of power/authority are uncommon due to how they are perceived as the lesser secondary sex. an omega NURSE or orderly would be easier accepted than an omega DOCTOR, for instance. and then some patients being like "i don't wanna get treated by no 'meg, i want a different doctor seeing to me" of course.
given to the types of people who end up seeing house for their mystery illness of the week, there are definitely more than a couple of hardheads who try to challenge house's authority either as a patient in the hospital bed, or as family/loved ones of the ill who can't believe a mere omega can cure the patient. house would antagonize them back, of course, but not give up the case either if it's good enough a puzzle.
wilson's reaction to seeing house get discriminated would depend on what the aggressor says/does and wilson's own cycle as well. (this is operating on the default that they're unbonded as well) because as much as i LIVE for protective wilson, he also knows how to throw house's shit right back at him. and house is a jerk, no matter the au, so from the outside looking in he wouldn't bat an eye. if he's brought on as a consult to the case, he'd be a little more involved; professional, but he would defend house's integrity and skill.
closer to rut, though, he would be a bit more..... tense. he catches an alpha kick house's cane out from under him in a fit of aggression and before you know it, he's pinned them to the nearest flat surface and is growling in their face. HUGE no-no as a doctor but also one he can get away with at trial, yknow, "crime of passion" type thing.
as a distinguished (.... sort of. it's greg house) specialist and literal grown man, it gets on house's nerves, yes. and as someone at odds with his secondary sex, he also hates that he even brings out that part of wilson's alpha biology, too. but -- and he wouldn't admit this under threat of death -- it also makes him preen a little inside that wilson's hindbrain (his subconscious, the pure primal instinct with No Thought behind it) deems him as something worth fighting over, protecting, defending when house himself does not.
#asks#lucradiss#your handle makes me chuckle btw it's like ludacris but not! funny! love that#house md#hilson#yeah i'm tagging this i feel like i wrote a thesis paper while my food was cooking#house seeing himself a bad omega years before the infarction too#because he doesn't like to submit and he's not the ideal omega male physically#getting into something serious with stacy (alpha) was the first time he let himself be bonded to someone else#which meant in turn that her later betrayal of his wishes hurt even more..... man#for me a pair can become unbonded over time if they don't reaffirm regularly or can be induced medically#which is painful/unpleasant and probably only relegated to emergency situations#and house probably opted out of it medically so he was naturally being unbonded while also recovering from the surgery. man#no wonder him and wilson would get mistaken for bondmates. house probably imprinted on him without either realizing
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
being an adult has so many downsides i have to face so many unpleasant realities make so many unpleasant choices maybe dragon age was right i DON'T get to be happy
#perth.txt#thinking abt how my sport of choice is only taught by a fucking asshole in my area#but i also grew up being taught by him & didnt know he was shit until fairly recently & its just. its painful?#no other way to put it it feels like a betrayal that this adult who i trusted & all that turned out to be. this.#& i cant learn from anyone else bc theres no one else aside from a man who threatened his life & the ppl who follow him#i feel disappointed & let down & hurt & i have no other options. & these other ppl dont have other options either#do they know? do they stay out of a sense of obligation? bc they love the sword more than they dislike him?#or do they agree with him? surely the children do not. those raised alongside me. perhaps some. likely not all#ah. life is harsh in such ways. and i cant sleep over it
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!
And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.
ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.
you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.
your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.
you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.
one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.
you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.
one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.
the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.
he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.
“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.
the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.
well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.
you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.
apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.
simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.
“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.
“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.
the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.
you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.
the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?
“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”
“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”
“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.
“points to you.”
“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.
he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.
“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.
you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.
“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.
“or should we take off another?”
you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”
“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.
“ghost!”
it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.
“what, mactavish? im busy.”
“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.
the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).
“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.
“it’s fucking shepard.”
it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.
you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.
“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.
you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.
you pass out.
when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.
“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.
your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.
the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.
your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.
“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.
you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.
“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.
“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.
“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”
he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.
he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.
just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.
“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.
you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.
“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.
“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”
“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.
“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.
“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.
“and whose fault is that?”
the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.
“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.
you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.
simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.
your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.
“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.
“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.
the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.
“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.
spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.
john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.
when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.
the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.
there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.
it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.
your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.
when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.
“how’re you feeling?”
you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.
“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”
the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.
the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.
“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.
no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.
you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—
you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.
that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.
your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.
————————————————
authors note:
I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.
thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶
#angst#simon riley x gn reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley angst#cod mw2 fic#cod x reader#task force 141#tf 141#141 x reader#141!reader#ghost x gn reader#gn!reader#ghost x you#ghost angst#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost cod#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john price#kyle garrick#john mactavish#mw2 141#captain price
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
does anyone ever get into a magic reveal wherein Arthur is upset not only about why did you never tell me but also grieving that I was hurting you for so long and never even knew.
Cause I see a lot of complex emotions in Arthur and merlin surrounding various magic reveal scenarios- the betrayal, the love, the sadness of now being trusted by the one you trusted the most, thinking you had someone’s full heart but it turns out you didn’t, the confusion and love lingering behind the anger, but what I don’t see often is Arthur being consumed by the thought that, all this time, he was causing the man he loved so much fear and pain. Yes he wishes that merlin trusted him sooner, but he also realizes that he’s been seen as a weapon by the person he always let his guard down to the most and grieves for merlin that that’s who he was to him. I also think this is why there is no way that Arthur didn’t know how much merlin loved him in the end. he realized he was loved so deeply that even if merlin subconsciously feared him as a weapon and arbiter of death, he stayed with Arthur and cared for him and valued him above any other for no other reason than love.
but seriously could you imagine finding out that someone you share a soul bond with and that you love so deeply and purely fears their life while existing around you? Id be devastated on their behalf, like the last thing I would ever want is for them to fear me but I’d also be in awe that they stayed anyways and I’d do anything I could to ensure they felt safe around me like I do around them. magic reveals can be explored in so many different ways and I would love to see more people flesh out that response
#magic reveals are some of the best things about merlin fics#the complex emotions are like no other#I love these two so bad#merlin#bbc merlin#merthur#arthur pendragon#merlin x arthur#bbc merthur
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. (final part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)
in the painful memory of what once was, sylus learns that love can't be bound where it was never meant to stay.
♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader
♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+
♱ tags. sylus's pov, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus might be ooc, main story spoilers, razor's dance spoilers, nightplumes spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), espionage, jealousy, brief smut, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation kink, mentions of accidents, suicide attempt, injuries, blood, usage of guns, usage of knife, killings, death, my own theories incorporated into the lore, sylus groveling bcos yall want him to
♱ notes. 9.5k wc. l&ds!mc is referred to here as 'diana'. THIS IS A REPOST of the original post i accidentally deleted. i already posted this several hours ago, so if you’re seeing this new one again, blame my dumbass 🤧 oh well life is life.
Sylus had a part of him that wished things could be different.
Ever since he turned away and left you that night at the alleyway, he didn’t really realize the chain of events his decision would set into motion. He simply underestimated how strongly your threats were backed by the grudge you had on him for bringing the hunter girl from Linkon into his base.
After all, you were just an assistant of his. And her, she was everything to him. It wasn’t just about the Aether Core, too—their bond stretched back into his distant past, into another planet where two of them ruled before the inhabitants of Philos came to ruin everything. Him and Diana had a connection he couldn’t sever no matter how much you had come to mean to him. And he spent years, centuries even, just to search for her.
So, how could a mere assistant he had known for less than a decade have such entitlement to her role in his life?
Eventually, days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. With your prolonged absence from the Onychinus base, Sylus’s business transactions and illicit deals had become increasingly unruly. He had grown too dependent on you as his right-hand woman, relying on your meticulous management to ensure all his illegal activities ran smoothly. Yet now, without your oversight, things were falling apart.
And while he was contemplating how to fill the void your absence had created, the office door slammed open. A subordinate soon rushed in, breathless and wide-eyed. “Boss, she’s betrayed us!” Luke exclaimed. “She’s gone to the Hunter’s Association. We got word that she was a high-ranking intelligence agent there!”
“A.K.A a spy!” yelled the other twin, Kieran, who looked equally hurt at your betrayal. “She fooled all of us. And here, we treated her like family.”
That was how Sylus learned that you had left the N109 Zone, seeking refuge in Linkon City, and had exposed critical intel on Onychinus. At the time, rage naturally exploded within him. Didn’t he take good care of you while you were here? He had given you everything, trusted you, and you had thrown it all away. Four years of falling into his trap. Four years of being his partner in crime, his right-hand woman, his lover. People even saw you as the modern day Bonnie & Clyde. Sylus couldn’t understand the root of your betrayal, couldn’t imagine how letting you slip away from his grasp would cost him so much in return.
When you vowed to do everything in your power to kill Diana, was this just a part of your grand scheme? What other machinations were you orchestrating in your pursuit of revenge?
“She’s a wild animal on loose.” Sylus looked up at the twins, maintaining a calm yet ruthless mien as he sat on the couch. He might be idly tossing a coin like he didn’t care, but inside his brain was chaos ensuing. “Where’s she now? Any news?”
It was Luke who shrugged in response. “She hasn’t been seen anywhere, boss-man.”
“We suspect the Association is hiding her,” Kieran added.
The hunter girl, Diana—the very girl you were jealous of, was sitting next to Sylus throughout the conversation. Their hands were connected by a strong energy linkage that was seemingly ignited by the Aether Cores in their bodies. They couldn’t separate themselves even if they wanted to. And God forbid you would have lost your mind tenfold had you seen their situation right now.
“That g-girl,” gasped the hunter girl, eyes wide in bewilderment at what she was hearing. “Sylus, your assistant. She did all that? She was a spy from the Hunter’s Association?”
Luke tilted her head at the girl, his beaked mask mocking her. “Oh, miss hunter! Haven’t you heard about the HIS? You should know them better than us.”
“Well.. what is the HIS?”
“Hunter Intelligence Services.” Sylus was the one who answered, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his temples. “They’re top secret. Regular hunters wouldn’t have known about them, because they only deal with people like me.”
Diana looked between him and the twins, rubbing her wrist before moving closer to the boss of Onychinus. Her close proximity allowed him to smell her familiar sweet scent. “Is she… after me? But I don’t understand. If she’s part of the Hunter’s Association too, then shouldn’t we be colleagues?”
Kieran cleared his throat. “Ever since you came—”
“Place a bounty on her head,” Sylus interrupted the twins, and also ignored the question of the girl next to him. She didn’t need to learn the history behind you and him, or why you chose to target her. “Make sure to bring Y/N back to me. Alive.”
“Roger that, boss!”
It was his last desperate attempt to draw you back to him. Now that you had the Hunter’s Association protecting you, Sylus knew that locating you wouldn’t be as simple. Otherwise, he would have easily captured Diana long ago. He convinced himself that the bounty was to punish you, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn’t bear to lose you to his enemies completely.
~~
It took you a year to return to the N109 Zone.
Did you forget he had eyes and ears everywhere? He was the boss of that infamous No-Hunt Zone. Even if you leaked intel about his residences and the Onychinus base to the Hunter’s Association, Sylus still had a few tricks up his sleeve. He had hideouts in places that even you weren’t aware of, and the residents of the N109 Zone were loyal to him. Too loyal that they wouldn’t give any information to anyone no matter the consequences.
And how foolish were you to forget about Mephisto’s existence?
“Caw! Caw!”
The mechanical crow’s eyes glowed with the same red hue as Sylus’s as it landed on his arm, projecting visions of you entering the underground fight club disguised in an Onychinus uniform. It was almost farcical that you thought you could infiltrate a place Sylus frequented unnoticed.
But then, the vision shifted to you speeding on a motorcycle with a truck in hot pursuit. Sylus quickly recognized the truck’s decals—it was the hitman he often employed for dealing with his enemies, now terrorizing you in a high-speed chase. Without hesitation, Sylus grabbed his leather jacket and mounted his own bike, racing to your location in sixth gear.
He arrived just a minute too late. And what was meant to be a dramatic reunion turned into a scene of you lying unconscious and injured on the road, while the hitman grinned nearby with an expression of triumph. If it hadn’t been for your helmet, Sylus would have been met with the gruesome sight of your shattered skull.
“Mr. Sylus!” the hitman exclaimed, jumping out of his truck with arms outstretched in petty victory. “Can I get the $500,000,000 in cash?”
As Sylus’s gaze fell on your unconscious, injured body sprawled on the ground, a surge of anguish overwhelmed him in ways he couldn’t understand. But it was quickly replaced by seething rage—rage that made him summon his black-red mist, enveloping the hitman in its dark tendrils.
“I said not to harm her,” Sylus growled, his red eye glowing ominously against the desolate highway backdrop. “You failed your task.”
“P-Please, Mr. Sylus! I thought you—”
Without another word, Sylus scooped you up in his arms while his mist dealt with the hitman behind him. The hitman’s desperate cries were soon drowned out by the expanding tendrils, which tightened around him until he was engulfed. Then, in a violent burst, the mist exploded, reducing the hitman and everything around him to dust.
Sylus brought you to his underground hideout immediately after. And an unfamiliar—or perhaps strange—pang tugged at his heart as he gently laid you in bed, his gaze lingering on the road rash you obtained from the crash. The injuries were severe, with patches of skin nearly stripped away in the most brutal fashion he could think of. He could only imagine the burning pain you had to endure as soon as you skidded along the gravel, and Sylus felt his own frustrations knocking at the door knowing that he didn’t have the power to extend his fast-healing abilities to you.
“Tch. My kitten’s reckless as always, riding without the proper gear,” Sylus grumbled, looking at your unconscious body. “You’ve never been one to follow the rules, have you?”
To make up for his inability to save you on time, he applied a potent medicinal ointment all over your body and placed you in an anesthetized state while you healed. His mist enveloped you like a protective shroud the entire time you laid in bed unconscious. Every single day, Sylus tended to your wounds, changing your clothes and bandages, and applying the ointments over your bare body. He even took special care to ensure the twins did not enter your room without his permission.
Despite the care he showed, a persistent question echoed in his mind: Why am I doing this for you? You were his enemy, a traitor, and a woman who had betrayed him. It didn’t make sense.
That afternoon, feeling suffocated from this internal conflict, Sylus decided to leave you in the care of Luke and Kieran while he went to Linkon. He knew he needed space to grapple with the feelings that were driving him to care for you in the first place.
He needed to see the real woman he should be caring for.
Because you had not only exposed intel on Sylus and Onychinus to the Hunter’s Association, you also asked for them to isolate Diana so she would have no way to see or contact him. Who knew that mere feelings of jealousy would spark you to do such trivial things?
Frankly, you were insane. You were dark and twisted like him.
But in a way, it only underscored how similarly deranged the two of you were. Perhaps, in your madness, there was a strange compatibility—one that Sylus found unsettlingly fitting. The suggestion of you two being more a suitable pair than he and Diana gave him an unease that he couldn’t simply shake away.
It should be her. Her. Just her and her alone. He dedicated his whole life into finding her, yet you came into his life to ruin the foundations he had built to meet the person he was supposedly destined for. He had repeated it over and over in his mind like a broken record—the voices in his head telling him to let you go, to hurt you, to make you suffer.
However, as he stood across the pedestrian crossing, watching Diana from afar, a realization hit him like a cold gust of wind. There she was, oblivious to his presence on the other side, but the spark that once ignited in his heart whenever he saw her was gone. Now, his pulse remained steady and his heart stayed still.
With a wary glance around, mindful of any watchful eyes, he decided to pick up his phone and ring hers. It was a good thing he was able to seamlessly blend into the crowd, with his practiced nonchalance making him invisible among the throng of people. After all, he was Sylus Qin, the mastermind of Onychinus—disguise was second nature to him.
“Sylus?” Her voice came through the line, tentative and filled with a mix of emotions as she scanned the faces on the other side of the crossing.
“According to the conditions set by the Hunter’s Association, we shouldn’t be meeting again.” His voice was steady, almost detached, as he kept the phone pressed to his ear. “Or if not, you will be marked as a Tenebra.”
Her eyes eventually found him amidst the walking crowd, keeping an expression on her face that showed both longing and forlornness. “Not the first time someone has been marked a Tenebra because of you,” she managed to slip in a snarky remark in her worried expression. “Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”
“Are you worried about me?” he nonchalantly asked, watching as she stepped off the curb when the light turned green. Each step was a step closer to him, but nothing changed the pace of his own heartbeat like it should have. Nothing stirred within him as it once did.
“You have the audacity to use a phone when you’re right in front of me,” she snapped, frustration flaring as she yanked the phone from his grasp. Without hesitation, she grabbed his arm, dragging him along with her to escape the dangers of being seen in public. They ended up in an alleyway, a place hidden from prying eyes, an irony that made Sylus chuckle under his breath. The alleyway. Why has that become such a memorable place to him? “Sylus, what’s so funny? I was so scared something happened to you! You couldn’t even call me back or text me the past few days?”
He remained expressionless as he observed her outburst. Strange. In her frantic worry, she reminded him of you, and it was a discomfiting parallel that sent chills down his spine. “I said I’d need to disappear from your life completely, so I have to tie up loose ends,” he began, each word seemingly a dagger to her heart. “We haven’t been able to resonate either way, sweetie. There’s no reason for us to keep meeting.”
“No!” she adamantly denied the thought, pulling him into an embrace. “No, you’re not allowed to disappear just like that! We need to find a way to get—”
“It’s a dangerous gamble to be caught in my world,” he said in a low voice.
But she was stubborn. “I’m already caught in it! So, please, Sylus, take me with you. Take me to the N109 Zone or wherever you’re hiding. I want to be where you are.” And in spite, she uttered words that made Sylus think twice about his perception of you. “It’s her fault that this is all happening. She’s a traitor to you and to the Association. Her loyalty isn’t with anyone but herself, Sylus. She’s the one who needs to disappear!”
~~
Back at his hideout, Sylus was careful to ensure that Diana remained oblivious to your presence in another room. He was already grappling with how to manage the situation—torn between the woman he loved and the woman he had wronged who, ironically, were both now under the same roof. The thought of you two crossing paths was a nightmare he didn’t want to deal with, so he gave strict orders to the twins, notorious for their loose lips and loud mouths, to keep Diana far from you.
Because when Sylus returned to your room, he knew you were awake. The dark classical music playing from the vinyl record had likely stirred you from unconsciousness. It had been nearly a week since the crash, but thanks to his meticulous care, your wounds had mostly healed, leaving only faint scars behind.
“You can’t hide from me forever.” Sylus hovered over you to whisper into your ear, summoning his protective black-red mist to slowly release you. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.”
When you finally opened your eyes after what felt like an eternity, Sylus told himself it was natural to feel relieved, that it was only right for his heart to soften at the sight of you returning to consciousness. But as you awoke, the voices in his head—the damned, relentless voices—grew louder, mocking him, provoking him, and luring him into darker thoughts. His right eye began to glow like a flickering candle, and when he saw the fear on your face, the words that followed weren’t his own. They were driven by the unforgiving side of him he couldn’t control, a side that thrived on your terror. The beast that couldn’t be tamed.
She’s a traitor.
Punish her.
Hurt her.
Devour her.
While in a heated, dramatic exchange with you, Sylus was spewing words he didn’t mean. He was doing actions without regard. He was mocking your pain. Your jealousy. Your heartbreak. The drive to hurt you was strong in his head, but he fought desperately against it. The demon inside him that tried to consume his every thought. He tried to battle his own self just to protect you.
“I betrayed you because of her!”
His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened, replaced by the wicked smile on his face that enjoyed seeing you suffer. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”
You tried to move away, but Sylus pressed his foot firmly on your wrist. She betrayed you, Sylus. Punish her.
“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with corrupt satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”
It wasn’t until you reached for the gun on his nightstand, pointing it at yourself, that Sylus snapped out of his dark trance. The horror in his eyes was a stark contrast to the sorrowful shine in yours as you stood there, sobbing in front of him. Each word you spoke was tailed with the pain of a heart shattered by everything he had done and said.
“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment, but your heart had already been blown into smithereens. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”
Even as his gaze softened and a flicker of regret passed across his face, you had already made your decision when your finger tightened on the trigger. The recoil jolted your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. Instead of ending your life, the bullet shattered a window, ricocheting off the glass and disappearing into the night.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his voice a thunderous mix of fury and disbelief.
You were barely responding to him as he cupped your cheeks and forced your lachrymose eyes to lock into his crimson ones. It was as though you had already resigned yourself to reality, that ending your own life would have been a better option than being with the man you hopelessly loved.
“Y/N,” Sylus tried to shake you awake, desperate for you to look into his eyes. “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.”
“...I was never playing one with you.”
Sylus was overwhelmed by a profound, indescribable pain that pierced his chest. It was a pain that mirrored yours but was infinitely more intense. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me,” he said in a low, softened voice, “It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe. Why don’t you listen?” He longed to pull you into his arms, but the crushing reality was that he only now realized how deeply he cared for you. It was devastating that his awakening had come at the cost of your near-suicide, forced by a love he was unable to return.
Was it truly too late for him to come to terms with his feelings for you? Was it too late to accept that he had fallen in love with you rather than the woman he believed he was meant to be with?
His answer came in the form of a gut-wrenching realization. It manifested in the frantic voice of Diana—the woman he believed he loved, piercing through the haze of his thoughts by yelling, “Sylus, step back!”
“No!” he shouted, his black-red mist swirling to intercept the bullet.
But his efforts came too late. The bullet had already been set in motion, and it tore through the side of your head.
It penetrated your skull with a cruel precision, not just once but twice. And the warmth of your blood seeped through his fingers as he caught your head before you fell onto the floor.
Sylus’s mind raced with the enormity of what had just happened. His face grew ashen as he looked at your bloodied head and lifeless eyes, a wave of acid welling up his chest until he couldn’t breath. But the reason for his suffocation was because of his own guilt and grief. It was at the force of a sledgehammer when he was hit with the admission that he had always been in love with you. All along, despite your tangled mess, it was you who had captured his heart in this world.
His chest tightened, his breaths coming in ragged, broken bursts, while he held you close in his arms. And your last three words, your very last words of “I… love… you…” as you stared despairingly at him was icing on this bitter cake.
No… no!
He couldn’t fucking accept it. He was losing his mind, he was going insane. He was plunging into madness. Utter hysteria. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking as your eyes, once full of life and light, were now glazed over with the sheen of death. “Don’t leave. No, I can’t let this happen!” For the first time in a long time, he once again felt hot tears leaving his eyes. It was an emotion so rare it only ever showed toward the people he deeply cared about. “I love you too,” he struggled to say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said back there.”
Sylus held you close, disregarding the blood staining his clothes while he was consumed by agony and regret. He had driven you to this, pushed you away, and then drawn you back into his orbit only to lose you forever.
Though he may have conquered your heart, in doing so, he had only destroyed the both of you. The memory of your love and the warmth of your touch would haunt him for the rest of his days. And as he held your lifeless body, he knew that he would never be whole again.
But it shouldn’t be too late. No, it shouldn’t! He didn’t know if it was the hysteria or adrenaline kicking into him, but he had thought of an idea—no matter how immoral—that would return you back to him. He just couldn’t weigh which strong emotion he had to deal with first; should he grab the gun and shoot Diana out of anger? Or should he ignore her presence entirely and just focus on you?
Sylus chose to proceed with the latter as he carried you through the corridors of the base, his steps heavy with guilt and his shirt drenched in blood as you remained unconscious in his arms. The hunter girl had followed him in his spiritless steps, her eyes wide with confusion over his anguish.
“Sylus, why are you doing this?!” she demanded, grabbing his arm to halt his progress. “She would’ve killed you. That girl’s a traitor!”
Although he stopped in his tracks, he couldn’t really return her gaze. His eyes could only look at your lifeless ones. “That girl you shot in the head,” he spoke low and in despair, “is my woman.”
Diana was horrified. “But… but you never said—” Before she could finish, the twins intervened, holding her back from pursuing Sylus further. “What about me?”
He had already turned away. “I’ll fulfill my promise to protect you from afar, but this is where our paths part. Do not come near me again.”
~~
Sylus stood over your unconscious body, his eyes bloodshot and tears-streaked, while his heart pounded with a mix of grief and desperation. He had summoned Philip and the finest surgeons he knew to his hideout, where you lay in a medical bed, exposed and vulnerable, as if you were a subject in a desperate experiment.
Philip arrived with a grim expression, his eyes scanning the scene with both skepticism and professional detachment. Sylus could barely contain his desperation as he demanded, “Do everything you can to save her. Even if it means infusing a high-grade protocore in her brain.” After all, he had plenty of that. Sylus had all the resources, protocores of the highest grade, each with their own purpose and capabilities.
Yet Philip hesitated, his face contorting with concern. “Mr. Sylus, you know I can’t do this. She’s gone. The best thing to do is accept—”
That was when Sylus’s composure cracked. He kicked the nearby chair out of rage, tears streaming down his face as he begged, “You’ve done it before. Do it again! Please, I need her to live!”
The sight of Sylus, usually so imposing and dominant, breaking down in front of him was shocking. Philip felt a pang of sympathy toward the Onychinus boss who was willing to do everything for a woman who was already dead. His hands trembled as he spoke, “I-I can try. But I’m warning you, Mr. Sylus… even if she survives this, there’s zero chance her memories will be the same. They may even become altered, and it will be out of our control.”
Sylus’s gaze never left you. “I don’t mind. Just do it.”
~~
Weeks later, Sylus found himself in a secluded alleyway, meeting with a deepspace hunter who was also an enemy of his from another planet. Of course, the atmosphere was tense as both men stood in front of each other, eye-to-eye, carrying a defensive stance from one another.
They were never friends. But that day, they weren’t enemies either.
“How’s she?” Xavier broke the silence first.
Sylus answered with a low voice. “She hasn’t woken up, but she’s stable.”
“Why’d you ask to meet?”
“I want you to look after her,” the Onychinus leader began, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of desperation, “Speak to the Association about taking Y/N back and forgiving her for her betrayal. In return, I’ll step away from Diana’s life. She’s all yours. I just want Y/N to return to her normal life.”
Xavier’s expression was serious. “You’re forgetting you still have a bounty on your head.”
“And you’re forgetting you and your backtrackers destroyed the planet where I was living,” he replied in equal disdain, but only enough to trap Xavier into a wall of guilt and obligation.
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Lumiere—or, in his current form, the deepspace hunter, Xavier. “The HIS will be easy to convince. But what if she wakes up and wants to go back to the N109 Zone?”
Sylus felt a tug of deep sadness pulling at his heart. “She won’t. Her memories of me are gone for good.”
~~
If this was his karma for hurting you, then it was definitely the worst kind.
Sylus maintained a distant watch over you after you returned to Linkon, observing from afar as you rejoined your life with the support of the Hunter’s Association and former colleagues. Each day, he sent Mephisto to monitor your whereabouts, carefully tracking your interactions and daily activities. The mechanical crow often returned with glimpses of your life, which Sylus scrutinized with intense focus as if he were watching a movie. Each glimpse offered him a sense of relief, happiness even, at knowing how easy you were settling back into your old life.
You had been officially dismissed from the Hunter’s Association due to a medical condition that rendered you unfit for duty, but they continued to cover your pension and provided free lodging—likely thanks to Xavier’s persuasive influence over the Association. The official story was that you had been sent on a dangerous mission where a Wanderer had placed you in a life-threatening predicament. The narrative praised your honor and dedication to the end. There was no mention of Sylus, Onychinus, or the N109 Zone. No hint of the life you had once led or the truth behind your memory erasure.
Yet, in a bitter twist of irony, perhaps the story you were told may not actually be farther from the truth.
After all, Sylus was the dangerous monster that sent you to that life-and-death situation.
But at least now, you were well cared for. So much so that Sylus fought to contain his jealousy whenever Mephisto’s eyes relayed visions of you sharing lunch with a physician named Dr. Zayne. He struggled to mask his irritation as he saw the man drape an arm around your shoulders while guiding you out of the hospital or wrapping a scarf around your neck to keep you warm. He would often even drive you home and send you gifts that were masked as tokens of “recovery.”
Bullshit.
Sylus clenched his fist, his thoughts of jealousy consuming him. My girl, he thought in despair, my beautiful girl is cherished by other men, while he remained imprisoned in the desolate shadows of the N109 Zone, longing for you.
Eventually, Sylus felt an overwhelming urge to see you in person. After discovering that you had taken a job at a café in Bloomshore District, he convinced himself that observing you from a distance wouldn’t cause harm. He just wanted to be near you, to ensure your safety, and to protect you from any potential threats.
As he sat on a nearby bench, Luke joined him with a comment. “Boss, you said we needed to disappear from her life.”
Kieran, taking a seat on Sylus’s other side, added, “Do you think she’d recognize us if we walked into that café? If she doesn’t, I’ll give her a hard time with my orders ‘til she remembers us!”
“Ha ha! Let’s do that!”
“Boss, let’s go!”
“Leave her be.” Sylus took a deep breath, adjusting his sunglasses and setting aside his newspaper—part of his disguise—as he watched you through the café window. He noticed the subtle traces of familiarity in your actions, but the connections that once bound you were now distant memories. “...I’m just here to make sure no one’s bothering her.”
The truth was, he wrestled with his emotions each time he visited the café you were working at. He wanted to approach you, to speak to you, but he hesitated each time because of the fear of rejection and the pain of seeing you not remember him holding him back. There were so many what-ifs in his head that it drove him insane to think about.
Because if anything, what if you were already seeing someone else? What if you were already in a relationship with that scumbag doctor from the Akso Hospital?
It was petty jealousy that drove Sylus into stepping into the café. And the first time your eyes met since you resurrected, his heart initially froze, then raced uncontrollably. His heart swelled with hope as you looked up at him, but it was quickly replaced by the lack of recognition in your eyes the moment you spoke from the counter.
“Hi. What can I get you?” you asked, treating him no differently than any other customer.
Sylus was caught off-guard, but he knew he had to play the part. “I, uh, I’ll get an Americano. Large.”
“Alright, sir. And your name, please?” you asked, following your routine without any real interest in the man before you.
But in a way, this was a relief for Sylus. It confirmed that the protocore embedded in your head was functioning as intended, and that any dark memories from the past had been completely erased, even if it meant he was no longer part of your life.
“Skye,” he said with a soft smile. “That’s my name.”
~~
There wasn’t a single day Sylus missed visiting the café.
At first, he worried that his constant presence might seem odd, or that you might think of him as a stalker. But as the days passed, seeing you became an essential part of his routine. A day without catching a glimpse of you felt incomplete, almost maddening. Seeing you was like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
Initially, you found his regular visits a bit strange, but gradually, the small interactions between you two evolved. Sylus began to appear at the café just when you needed him most—whether it was fixing a broken coffee machine, addressing rude customers, or simply offering a helping hand. These acts of kindness somehow transformed your view of him. What started as a customer-service relationship slowly became more personable, and in recent days, you often greeted him warmly and smiled whenever he walked in. If only you knew how badly it warmed his heart that he got to do things for you without making him feel like he was intruding in your life.
And to be honest, Sylus even felt like he might be—as Luke termed it—foolishly ”crushing” on you.
“Who knew our boss-man could be a hopeless romantic~?”
There was a time when he visited the café, only to find out from your manager that you called in sick from work. Sylus knew where you lived, but going to your place uninvited was a different story. He had to put some boundaries no matter how worried he was for you. But that was when Mephisto became useful; the mechanical crow would simply fly off to your place and observe you from outside. Then, an idea to drop a box of medicines and chocolates at your balcony was something he had thought of at the last minute.
Back in the N109 Zone, Sylus anxiously looked at his crow. “Are you sure she didn’t see you?”
“Caw! Caw!”
“Did she eat the chocolates?” he asked, exhaling a deep breath he didn’t think he was holding.
“Caw! Caw! Caaaw!” Mephisto responded, fluttering its wings as if to reassure him.
~~
And then, that day happened.
The day Sylus finally gathered the courage to ask you out, fate had other plans. And what began as a simple gesture to offer you a ride home during a stormy night quickly escalated into something far more intense.
Because one moment, he was offering you a ride. The next, he found himself in your bed, having the most passionate sex he had ever had with someone. He wasn’t even sure if he could call it that, because it felt more like he was making love to you, even if to you, he was probably just an attractive guy you unexpectedly hooked up with.
So, he had to make himself known. He had to hear his real name leaving your lips. “Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curves, “Call me Sylus, kitten.”
That night, he was an insatiable man who could only be satisfied by his woman.
When he was buried far too deep inside you, he enjoyed the sight of ecstasy on your face and lavished at the sounds of your titillating moans with his every thrust. Not only did he miss the feeling of your walls tightening around his shaft, he also remembered how badly you used to want him to cum inside you.
And so, he did just that. At his climax, he released hot spurts of seed into your womb, fulfilling a wish from the past that he used to deprive you of.
But as the night progressed and the heat of the moment faded, the conversation shifted to a more profound and emotional terrain. Sylus wrestled with the urge to reveal the truth about his true identity—every painful detail and the secrets he kept from you. Yet, he knew that doing so would only complicate matters further and risk causing you more pain. The idea of hurting you again, after such a meaningful connection, was unbearable to him, especially now that you were still fragile as glass, ready to shatter at any moment.
“Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?”
“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he pressed, forcing you to believe the narrative with his rueful eyes staring back at you. “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.”
“Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” He caressed your back as you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”
“Please don’t.” He shook his head, crestfallen as he thought of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.”
~~
Your relationship with Sylus remained unclear since that night. And it seemed as though the roles had reversed—now he was the one left wondering where he stood in your life. Because on the surface, it did seem like you were willing to work on building a relationship with him again, but every encounter you two had were always physical rather than emotional.
Sylus found himself at your apartment frequently, three or more times a week, engaging in intense, passionate encounters. He had lost track of how many times you two could do it in a single night, exploring every possible position, in every corner of your home. He had tried his hardest to make you feel like he was the only man who was more familiar with every inch of your body than anyone else. Yet, despite the physical closeness, he sensed that the emotional barriers between you remained intact.
No matter how deeply intertwined your bodies became, the walls around your heart remained firmly in place, and Sylus knew that there was a part of you he still couldn’t reach.
That, and the fact that he was still seeing you interact a little too closely with that doctor from Akso.
It somehow didn’t surprise you when Sylus’s car showed up outside the hospital to pick you up, and you got on with a guarded look.
“How’s it for my kitten today?” Sylus asked as he secured your seatbelt, his lips brushing against yours in a quick peck. “You didn’t mention you’d be at the hospital.”
You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. “Oh, I just... didn’t think I needed to inform you of my whereabouts.”
Dammit. He knew you weren’t officially together, but it hurt more than he cared to admit. And it didn’t help that Sylus’s pride couldn’t naturally take it, so he probed more. “That doctor. He’s not your neurologist, is he? It seems a little inappropriate for him to always be around you like that.”
“Well, I’ve known Zayne for a long time,” you merely replied, eyes focused on the view outside rather than the driver of the car. “I’d also appreciate it if you'd be less territorial over me, Sylus. I know you said we have a history together, but I don’t remember a thing, so… I hope you won’t rush me.”
The Sylus you knew back then would have been enraged. Who were you to order him around? Who were you to tell him what he should and shouldn’t do over someone he rightfully owned? But he was a changed man now, and it was all because of you. You were the beauty that tamed him into a powerless beast.
“I understand,” Sylus replied, swallowing his pride as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. “I apologize.”
He heard you sigh beside him, and a part of him wondered if it was out of sympathy. But before he could dwell on it, you spoke up, your tone more serious. “I was at the hospital today because I had a pregnancy scare.”
Sylus hit the brakes at the red light a bit too abruptly, his heart racing in excitement. “Are you?”
“No, thank God,” you breathed out in relief. “But... can you please stop doing it inside? I really don’t like it. It’s not smart for me to get pregnant by a man I barely know.”
His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t describe. The old you nearly begged him for a baby so he could be yours forever, but he was aware that this version of you right now was not the same. It never would be, and that was the price he had to pay for love.
“I won’t do it again.” Once again, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry.”
You still invited him to sleep at your apartment that night, and your reason being to work on the memories of him you had lost. Time and time again did Sylus tell you it was better you didn’t remember them, but he could also understand your dilemma when you told him that you always felt like a piece of you was missing ever since that “accident”.
“And this ugly scar on my temple,” you pointed it out, settling into your side of the bed. “What kind of Wanderer did I fight for me to get a traumatic brain injury?”
Sylus placed a tender kiss on your scar. “Perhaps it was a heartless monster more terrifying than a Wanderer.”
Like me.
“Oh, well.” You pulled the sheets over your body, suggesting you two would have no action tonight. “Good night, Sylus.”
“...Sleep tight, kitten.”
You didn’t need to worry, though, because he wouldn’t have touched you even if you had explicitly asked him to. After hearing your words that afternoon—about not wanting to get pregnant by him and asking him to stop being so territorial—Sylus felt the need to pull back and be more cautious in his actions toward you. Your words had cut deep, but he understood you were only protecting yourself from a man who was, essentially, still a stranger to you.
And despite the sting, he had promised himself that he would be patient for the only woman he cared about.
~~
However, that same night was a different story.
No, it was actually way past midnight when Sylus woke up from an agonizing scream that pierced the silence of the night, chilling him to the bone. Instinctively, his hand reached out to the side of the bed where you should have been, but the sheets were cold and empty. And then panic gripped him, forcing him to leap out of bed, his mind racing with a single horrifying thought: the protocore.
He darted outside of your bedroom and deeper into your apartment space, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The image of you, eyes wild and frenzied, ravaged by the effects of the protocore, haunted him.
What if it’s happening now? What if I lose her for good?
The horrifying thought of the protocore making you berserk like a wild Wanderer was always there.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw you on the kitchen floor, curled up, your body wracked with sobs. Relief washed over him to have found you, but it was fleeting, replaced by a deeper, more insidious fear. He tried to approach you cautiously, his voice soft as he placed his hands on your shoulders, “Sweetie, are you okay?”
You flinched at his touch, and when you turned to face him, the sight made his blood run cold. Your eyes, usually so warm, were now wide and filled with tears—tears of terror, of anger. And in your trembling hand, you held a knife, its blade gleaming in the low light as you pointed it directly at his throat.
“Don’t come any closer!” you cried, your voice breaking at every word. Sylus froze, his breath catching in his throat as your sudden hostility surprised him. The knife’s tip hovered dangerously close to his skin, but it wasn’t the threat of violence that shook him—it was the raw, unfiltered pain in your eyes.
“Kitten, let’s talk about it calmly.” His voice was laced with cautiousness.
“Stop calling me that!” You swallowed hard, your grip on the knife tightening. “You! I had a nightmare... about you. But it felt real, like a memory. You were torturing me at your base, laughing... and then, you shot me in the head.”
Sylus’s heart dropped into his stomach at hearing your altered memory. He felt his soul tear apart at the edges as he stared into your tear-streaked face. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real, kitten.”
But you weren’t listening. “But is it also not real? That you…” You uttered each word with a threatening voice, “are the boss of Onychinus?”
The question hit him like a physical blow. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words were stuck in his throat and refused to form. He was trapped. The situation felt like a dead end—he could deny that your dream was a real memory, but admitting he was the leader of Onychinus would only validate that lie.
His silence alone was an answer to you. And your expression crumbled into one of betrayal at that. “You lied to me! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”
The anger in your voice enforced the stillness of Sylus’s breath. He knew he had no saving grace from this situation, but still, he took a step closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you—”
“Get out!” you screamed, the knife shaking in your hand. The sight of you so broken, so shattered, tore him apart. “Get the hell out of my sight! I don’t wanna see you ever again, you monster!”
But Sylus couldn’t leave—not like this, not when you were hurting because of him. So in his desperation, he lunged forward, grabbed your wrist, and forced the knife into his own chest. The sharp pain radiated through him as he plunged the blade in and stabbed himself repeatedly, his face twisted in agony, but not from the physical pain. This was nothing compared to the torment of knowing he was the source of your suffering. Again.
“Even if I can’t die,” he choked out, his voice ragged as he tried to absorb the stinging ache in his chest, “I’ll take all of this pain away from you.”
His own blood soaked his fingers, staining your hands as he released his grip on the knife. It fell on the floor as he stepped back, his heart aching more than his wounds ever could, but those wounds easily healed. The pain of losing you again, on the other hand, would never heal.
He looked at you one last time, seeing his monstrous reflection from your frightened eyes, before turning away. Sylus walked out of the apartment with heavy steps, feeling his soul crushed from your antagonism. He knew he had lost you—perhaps forever—and the realization was more than he could bear.
~~
A haze of cigarette smoke and the clink of glasses filled the air of the bar. Sylus sat alone at the counter, his new glass of whiskey untouched as he stared blankly into the amber liquid. The sting of alcohol was nothing compared to the numbness that had settled in his heart after that agonizing night with you. Every swallow of the hard liquor was a desperate attempt to drown out the torment of recent events, but the pain lingered, and it was damn persistent and unforgiving.
As he poured himself another drink, the muffled sounds of conversation around him blended into a dull roar. That was until a familiar voice cut through the haze—someone he wished he hadn’t come across.
“Sylus?”
He looked up, squinting against the dim light, to see Diana standing before him. He hadn’t seen him for the past year or so. And surely, her presence was unexpected, but he felt a sudden tinge of irritation at the sight of her. While her, she looked both apprehensive and determined, as if she had just made a hard decision to confront him.
“H-How have you been?” she asked the question as a conversation starter, but Sylus could see the faint hint of unease in her eyes.
He then straightened up, and his posture became stiff and defensive. “I told you it’s not wise for us to cross paths,” he said curtly, his voice slurred from the alcohol but still holding a note of finality. He didn’t want to engage, not with her, not tonight.
On the one hand, Diana’s eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps. “I… I wanted to say sorry for what happened with Y/N. I didn’t realize how much she meant to you. Xavier… told me everything. About you and her.”
The apology was genuine, but the mention of your name was a fresh wound, and he felt the anger and sadness surge again, bubbling beneath his carefully maintained exterior. He wanted to lash out, to blame her for everything, but he swallowed the words, knowing it wouldn’t change a thing. In the end, this was all his doing and he couldn’t point fingers over the mess that he alone had created.
Sylus tried to stand up, the room spinning slightly as he steadied himself. “I’m leaving.”
But Diana stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to stop him. He simply brushed past her, his movements unsteady but undeniably distancing from her. The desire to remain composed was slipping away, replaced by the harsh reality he faced every day since you were taken from him.
He made his way to the exit, pushing through the bar’s heavy door with a forceful shove. Sylus’s next move was to lean against the wall outside as the cool winter breeze blew on his face.
“Boss.” Kieran’s voice held a note of concern as he and his twin steadied Sylus by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “We’ll take you home.”
Luke glanced at his brother with a sad glint in his eyes before leading Sylus toward the car. “Maybe it’s time to let her go, boss.”
~~
February nights were the coldest. And it was supposedly the day for lovers, too.
Unlike the couples that littered the riverside, Sylus stood alone, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. His dark coat offered little protection against the biting wind, but he stayed committed, his gaze fixed on the empty expanse before him. Four hours had passed since he had sent you the message, and each minute he stood there waiting for you felt like an eternity. The biting cold gnawed at him, but he was determined to wait even if he’d end up getting frostbite. It was the least he could do.
The frozen river’s surface glistened with a thousand points of light as the moon cast its silver glow over the landscape. And for the next thirty minutes that passed, he was still alone.
She won’t be coming, said the voice in his head. Give up.
As he prepared to leave, the ache of disappointment settled in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, standing cautiously across him, your eyes wide and filled with both curiosity and trepidation. The sight of you, despite waiting in the cold for hours, instantly warmed his freezing body.
“Thank you for coming.” He took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “I won’t keep you long.”
You maintained your distance, wary of his next move. “Why did you want to meet?”
With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to peel the scarf from around your neck, and he felt a prick in his heart seeing you flinch. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He waited until you allowed him to proceed, his fingers brushing against your skin in a touch that was both gentle and reverent. You looked at him with confusion, the chilly air fought by the warmth of your breath. Sylus was just carefully replacing the scarf with the necklace he had given you long ago, the red Beryl crystal catching the light and sending soft, radiant glimmers into the night.
Do you even recognize it?
“I’m just returning a gift, kitten.”
As he fastened the clasp behind your neck, he pressed a tender kiss to the nape of your neck, his lips lingering for a moment before he straightened. That small gesture of his was actually carried by the depth of his affection and regret. And, if you may, it was his silent apology for all that he did to you.
“Sylus…”
His red eyes shimmered, intensified by the bloodshot whites. Sylus stared at your face with a mixture of love and ruefulness clouding his expression. He was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And he struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, with his voice breaking as he feathered the snowflakes that rested on your hair. “Take care of yourself. Always lock your doors at night and stay warm.” He took the scarf Zayne gave you, and pulled out a new one from his coat. It was a silly scarf with kitten prints all over it, that he soon carefully wrapped around your face and neck. “Wear that whenever you can.”
Your own eyes were large and rimmed with tears as though you were also hurting inside. “Why are you saying this?” you asked, keeping the weakness inside. “You sound like you’re saying goodbye.”
Sylus’s gaze was suddenly directed back to the river, but it was only because he had to avoid looking at your eyes or he would lose it. “The Association managed to track me here in Linkon and they’re still after me. I just managed to escape, but I can’t stay here,” he explained calmly, “I only came back to this city because of you… But now, I have to disappear, so don’t worry about having me around. I won’t bother you anymore.”
Your eyes widened in shock, and the tears that had been pooling your eyes finally spilled over. “Are you crazy?” you cried, seemingly unable to comprehend the words he was spewing. “You’re leaving me?”
Sylus’s heart broke at the sight of your tears, but he had to restrain any weakness by giving in. Instead, he reached out, and his hand trembled as he wiped a tear from your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.” He wanted to be the first one to say it this time. “Even if you regain all your memories of me—good or bad—I want you to know that I regret every pain I caused you. Even if you hate me, I’ll still love you. Today, tomorrow, and in our next lives.”
Sylus took one last, lingering look at you, his eyes filled with a sorrowful haze that nearly blinded his vision. He turned slowly, walking away from the river’s edge, with each step causing distance from the love he was leaving behind.
And you, you stood there, the necklace around your neck feeling heavy as you watched him disappear into the night. A surge of emotion overwhelmed you, and without thinking, you sprinted towards him. You took quick, long strides just to reach him, pulling him into a tight embrace, and crashing your lips against his in a bittersweet kiss.
Both of you cried as the kiss deepened, and you were encasing each other’s lips in a tight lock. The intensity of your emotions poured out in this poignant, intimate moment. And frankly, Sylus had never been this emotional. No one had ever seen this fragile side of him that he had always kept hidden. After all, what dominant, cruel boss of Onychinus would spill tears over a woman?
But they wouldn’t understand it. They never would.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes were red and swollen from tears. “Be careful,” you sniffled, barely unable to catch the breath you needed for the next. “Keep in touch if you can. And when I’m ready, I’ll find you.”
Sylus’s eyes were also filled with tears, but he managed a forlorn smile as he nodded. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle despite the heaviness of the moment. “I’ll wait,” he promised softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
“Until we meet again.”
As he stepped back, the distance between you seemed impossibly vast, but the promise in your eyes and the love in his heart made the separation bearable, if only just. And when Sylus turned away, his heart was heavy but full of the hope that one day, you would find each other again. That one day, this distant love would become a cherished memory that you would look back on as you grow old and wrinkled, yet insurmountably happy and content with the life you had lived. With or without him.
PREVIOUS PART
#love and deepspace x reader#love & deepspace x reader#lads x reader#lads x you#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x yn#lds x reader#l&ds x reader#l&ds x you#sylus angst#sylus fanfic#l&ds sylus
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
cost of betrayal
masterlist
summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first
word count: 1.7k.
warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues
a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏
“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants.
Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid.
You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that.
“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms.
“I have nothing to talk to you about.”
“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more.
He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.
Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone.
“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong.
“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and...
“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground.
“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”
“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”
“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”
You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness.
“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?”
“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe.
He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.
“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky.
"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing.
“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.”
“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying.
It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you.
“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips.
Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming.
While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two.
“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.
“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands.
Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger.
“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.”
“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron x y/n#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx
995 notes
·
View notes
Note
absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff
I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)
( part 1 )
Max Verstappen
You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.
After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.
A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.
“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.
You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.
“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.
“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.
"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."
You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.
“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.
Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."
You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.
“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.
"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."
Lewis Hamilton
The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.
Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.
He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.
Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.
He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.
Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.
How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?
But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-
The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing?
"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.
His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.
"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.
Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."
You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."
You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace.
"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."
"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.
"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.
“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”
Carlos Sainz
As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.
For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.
In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.
Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.
How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.
You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"
Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"
You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.
Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.
You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.
Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them.
Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.
Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.
"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."
His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.
"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."
Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."
As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.
In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.
And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.
Charles Leclerc
Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.
"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"
Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while."
You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."
You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."
You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"
Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."
You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.
"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."
Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.
You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.
You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.
It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.
"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.
Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.
"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.
Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.
Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."
You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"
Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her."
"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."
You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"
Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."
He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.
Lando Norris
As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.
Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.
Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.
You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.
"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."
His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.
"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.
Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.
"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.
"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.
With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."
( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
#★ : my work !#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#f1 angst#f1 fluff#hurt/comfort
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
A quick love letter to my Bucktommy family in the form of a fix-it <3
Bucktommy | fix-it | Teen | 1141 words | warnings: this is angsty at the start and tiptoes toward addressing biphobia so please care for yourself and don't read if that will exacerbate your hurt.
They're three beers deep when the doorbell rings again.
It's been a fucking night. He hadn't really had much to say to Eddie when he got there, thankfully he hadn't had to, especially considering Eddie was clearly in the midst of his own kind of night. It feels better, not being alone, at least. But the alcohol mixes with his head and twists the moment in his apartment further. How come every time I want to move forward I get pushed back?
He's not even paying attention when Eddie goes up to get the door, just fiddles with the bottle in his hand more, peeling the label into tiny pieces and laying them on Eddie's coffee table for him to pick up later.
"Shit-" Eddie stumbles as he makes his way. And then Buck can feel a little breeze as he goes to tell whoever it is that this isn't a good time.
"Oh thank god-" Buck freezes, determined not to turn around. "I wasn't sure you'd be home but I think I fucked up."
That's Tommy.
"I panicked a little. Evan asked me to move in and I think I freaked out."
"Uhh-" Eddie adds.
"We just got done talking about my ex who I had to end an engagement with and it just- it felt like he was trying to make up for his own freak out about it and-" Buck hears him take a deep breath, "I didn't want to force him into doing something he didn't really want to do, you know? He- he should get to make sure that's what he really wants." He takes another breath. "Are you not wearing pants?"
"Umm-"
Buck's heart rate had steadily ramped up hearing Tommy speak, but it's when he stops that Buck feels tears prickle at his eyes. He whips around then, still nestled into Eddie's couch, betrayal in his voice when he speaks.
"I did!" and shit. He didn't really mean to shout that.
"I'm gonna..." Eddie trails off as he heads into his bedroom.
"Why do you think I didn't make sure that's what I wanted?" he demands. He hadn't thought he'd be so angry, but this felt like something to him, and Tommy's running. Again. "Because that girl hit on me at the restaurant?"
Tommy looks shell-shocked. Like he's still grasping the fact that Buck is here, so Buck just keeps talking.
"Or because I haven't dated a man before? So I must not know what I'm talking about, right?"
"Buck-"
"Don't call me that."
"Evan," Tommy steps a little closer, and Buck leans toward the cushions, petty, but feeling raw still. "That is not why."
Buck levels him with a look.
"Okay, what you said is fair enough," he relents. "I didn't mean to make it seem like you couldn't make your own decisions about this."
"What did you mean?"
Tommy looks away for a moment, a flicker of pain on his face.
"I meant... what I said," he lands on. "You would break my heart, Evan."
"You don't know that." The tears finally crest over his lower lids and make their way to his mouth. "You can't just give up every time you're scared that I'm going to leave you, Tommy. It's not fair, you're not even giving me the chance to stay."
Tommy's lip wobbles a little now too, but he stays and listens.
"I wanted to stay, I wanted you to stay. With me. Permanently. Why would you think I would leave you?"
He cries now, and Buck hasn't ever seen him cry.
"I don't know," he gets out, choked and soft. "I see you, sometimes. With the 118 and everyone's families and I... I don't feel like I fit, Evan. I don't get how I fit into that."
"You fit into it because you're my boyfriend. My partner."
"I am?" he asks, treading closer ever slightly to the couch.
This time Buck leans his way. He sets his bottle down and looks down at his hands.
"Did you mean what you told Eddie? You fucked up? Because I fucked up, once, at the beginning of us, and you gave me that second chance and I'm so glad you did, Tommy, because these last few months have been better than I could've hoped. I don't want to let that go because of this so... yeah you can be, if you want."
Tommy rushes to the couch, he sits as close as he can get and grabs Buck's hands firmly. Warm and sure.
"I want that. I want us again. Please."
"You can have it," Buck whispers, resting his head on Tommy's shoulder. He squeezes Tommy's hands. "Just don't leave again, please."
"I won't, I won't."
Then there's a kiss at the crown of his head, and Tommy's other hand rubs soft circles over his back. He murmurs sweet nothings in Buck's ear all the while.
I'm sorry. I'm glad you were here. I missed you as soon as I walked out the door. I'm staying. I'm staying. I'm staying.
They sit like that for a while until a throat clearing from the hallway has them both lifting their heads to find Eddie, fully-clothed.
"What were you guys doing before I got here, by the way?" Tommy asks, humor back in his voice.
"Well, I was drinking my sorrows away. I don't know what Tom Cruise was doing."
"Ha ha," Eddie says, making his way to the couch, no qualms about forcing them to scooch over to make room. "We can talk about my shit tomorrow. You guys worked it out I guess?"
Buck looks up at Tommy, smiles, and kisses him with a loud peck just to make Eddie huff and roll his eyes.
"Yeah," Tommy says, looking at ease. "Although..." he starts.
Buck turns to him, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know that moving into your place is going to work," Tommy admits.
Buck sits up a little, mouth just opening to speak when Tommy cuts him off.
"I want to live with you, Evan, but your place is barely big enough for one person, so maybe we can workshop location, yeah?" he smiles a crinkly smile, the kind that always lets Buck know he's feeling fond, feeling secure.
It's Buck's turn to huff now. "It gets good light," he grumbles.
Tommy kisses his temple again, Buck gets the distinct feeling that he will be getting kissed quite a bit in the near future, and he chances a quick look at Eddie to see if they're being annoying.
Instead, he sees Eddie smiling too, he's looking on like he's proud and it makes Buck want to tear up again. Eddie gives him a nod and Buck nods back.
A weight lifts off his shoulders then. In the arms of the man he's growing to love and accepted by his family.
~~~~
I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who read, commented, shared my fics, sent me nice messages about my writing for these two, and to everyone who created content for them while they were canon. I'm thankful for every minute of it :)
#I love you guys take care I'm always here to talk#bucktommy#911 abc#911 spoilers#eddie diaz#bucktommy ficlet#tevan#tevan ficlet#my ficlet
577 notes
·
View notes
Text
King Deshret x Reader I
PART I: Where King Deshret falls in love with Nabu Malikata and forgets you, causing you to leave Sumeru to forget him
SCENARIO: you are the queen with King Deshret, however, he slowly falls in love with Nabu Malikata and forgets you, so, hurt by his betrayal, you ask Rukkhadevata to help you fake your death to leave Sumeru forever and go Inazuma to start a new life. Years later, when your heart had already healed, Rukkhadevata asks you to return to Sumeru to help her with the Withering, and you return, meeting him again.
(Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! I've made it longer than normal because I wanted to go into this one longer, doing it with a more descriptive narrative. I hope you like it and thanks for the request! Dedicated to sailorstar9)
(Also, second and third part will be published on Monday 11 and Friday 15!)
I.
From the beginning, you were Deshret's constant support, beyond politics and alliances with other gods. You shared a unique vision for his kingdom, a dream forged with every step you took at his side in the desert sands. Every glance you exchanged at the edge of the vast void spoke of your commitment, of your unwavering fidelity.
Your connection to him was deeper than sand and wind; you were his queen, not only on the throne, but in his ambitions and in his darkest nights. Each whispered word shared in the stillness of the night sealed the promise that love and kingdom would flourish together, no matter what danger lurked in the shadows. He taught you to believe there was something beyond the horizon, a power capable of shaping destiny.
You still remember the nights when he shared with you his deepest secrets, his desires and fears. He dreamed of a kingdom where his people were not slaves to the laws of heaven, and though his dreams were vast, his love for you seemed even greater. Under the cloak of the stars, he promised you that there was nothing that could break his loyalty to you.
II.
The peace of the kingdom was shaken when Nabu Malikata came into his life. At first, she was just a friend and an ally who shared with Deshret and Rukkhadevata the vision of a kingdom where the desert and the forest coexisted. You admired her strength and the gentleness of her presence, believing that she could be a powerful ally. However, over time, that admiration turned to uncertainty, because something in Deshret's gaze had changed.
Nabu Malikata brought with her an ethereal beauty, the kind of grace that seemed to merge with the wind and the water, that seemed to even calm the sands beneath her feet. You could feel the pull she exerted on him, like a distant star calling to him from above, unreachable and magnetic. In moments of silence, you noticed that his mind was no longer completely with you, but was lost in thoughts of Nabu Malikata, in the dreams they built together.
Every word Deshret said about her became a thorn in your chest. You tried to suppress the pain, to pretend you didn't notice how your nights with him became lonelier. You tried to remind him of his promise, to reconnect with the man you loved, but his heart seemed to have lost itself in a labyrinth of unknown longings. What was once yours was now foreign to you.
III.
Betrayal was a harsh word to describe what you felt, but you had no other word for the emptiness that began to expand in your chest. Deshret was trapped in his ambitions, in the secrets shared in whispered nights with Nabu Malikata, while you languished in silence. You could not bear to live in a realm where your love was no longer the center of his world, where you had been replaced by another vision, another soul.
It was then that you turned to Rukkhadevata, that wise and serene friend who knew the weight of pain and hope. You knew she shared an ancient loyalty with you, and her compassion inspired confidence. You revealed your fears to her and asked her for a soul-sucking favor: to help you disappear.
“Rukkhadevata,” you murmured, your voice cracking, “I’m afraid I cannot remain here.”
She tilted her head in understanding. There was no judgment in her eyes, only a stillness filled with empathy.
“He no longer belongs to me. His heart… has turned to her, and I cannot bear to remain in his shadow.” The words tumbled painfully from your mouth, but you held firm. “I ask for your help, my friend. I do not wish to cause conflict, I only want to leave, to be forgotten.”
With a sacred ritual, you faked your death, a disappearance shrouded in mystery and mourning. Deshret mourned your loss, but deep in your heart, you knew his grief was tinged with other feelings. He did not return to your grave more than once, and his devotion to Nabu Malikata continued. You left without looking back, knowing that your love had been sacrificed on the sands of his ambition.
IV.
Your arrival in Inazuma was a silent rebirth. Here, far from the sands of Sumeru and the memories you left behind, you began to rebuild your life. Over the years, your skill at purification and healing made you a symbol of hope in this land. People began to call you the Queen of Benevolence, a woman shrouded in mysticism and compassion, someone who had learned to heal poisoned souls and lands.
You dedicated each day to this new purpose, transforming pain into something positive, into a force that gave back to others what you had lost. The nights when you thought of Deshret were few, and each time his memory appeared in your dreams, it was less vivid, less painful. The faces of those you helped replaced their images, and your new life felt like a second birth. You had learned to let go of love and embrace the peace that came with distance.
V.
Centuries later, a familiar figure appeared before you: Rukkhadevata, clothed in the same serenity and compassion you had met years before. Her visit was not just a show of friendship; she came to ask for your help.
The Withering, a plague of corruption had ravaged the lands of Sumeru, and only your power of purification could help mitigate its advance.
“The Withering,” she explained to you, her voice heavy with gravity and despair, “is devouring our forests and withering the lands. Life itself is fading from our realm, and I fear my power is no longer enough to stop it.”
Rukkhadevata's request shook the delicate balance you had built in your heart. Returning to Sumeru meant facing what you left behind, the indifference you had cultivated. The memory of Deshret, now only a shadow, seemed insufficient to make you hesitate. However, the suffering of the land, the need to save the innocent, made you rethink your decision. This time, you would not return out of love, but out of duty.
VI.
Your return to Sumeru was solemn, without great ceremony or promises. When Deshret saw you for the first time, his gaze held wonder, pain, and something else that was harder to decipher. His lips, which had previously spoken only words of love for you, now only emitted pleas. He wanted your forgiveness, one last chance to redeem the harm he had caused you. But for you, the Deshret you loved had been buried in the sand, along with the promise you once shared.
“My queen…” he murmured in a trembling voice. “Is that you? I thought I had lost you forever… Please forgive me, I…”
His pleas echoed hollowly in your heart, and you looked at him with the same compassion you gave to all those you helped in Inazuma. His love was only a distant echo, and in that moment, you understood that there was no room in your heart for resentment or forgiveness, only for the peace you had found without him.
“Deshret,” you replied in a calm voice, “you are no longer my king, nor am I your queen. Time has erased the love that once existed. I have only returned to help my friend and fulfill my duty to this land.”
With one last look, you walked away from Deshret, letting the past burn in the sands.
Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact fanfic#genshin fanfic#genshin angst#king deshret#king deshret x reader#greater lord rukkhadevata#genshin rukkhadevata#genshin#nabu malikata#sumeru#sumeru archon quest
526 notes
·
View notes
Text
cw gn!reader but written with f!reader in mind, angst, no comfort, breakup, pining, minor clubbing wc: <1k an i'm on my period which is making me a little emotional, which resulted in this
ex!suguru will never truly be over you, convinced you’re the one that got away.
the breakup was “mutual”, emphasis on the quotation marks — it only meant you guys ended on good terms. it was a very quiet and tender scene. he holds your hands in his, slowly his thumb strokes across your knuckles, never letting his eyes leave your tear stained face.
ex!suguru who, despite disagreeing wholeheartedly with the decision, sees it’s for the best. he will forever hate himself for being unable to see it coming, unable to stop it — one day he suddenly notices how staying in the relationship brought you more turmoil than joy, and he didn't have the heart to hold onto you even though he so desperately wanted to. but he would ruin himself million times over for you
“it’ll be okay,” he says softly, letting himself indulge in the small acts that come so naturally to him one last time before he has to let go, hand reaching up to dry your tears and cupping your cheek. “i’ll be okay.”
with the quiet promise, he feels the stress leave your body and you rest against his touch, a sad smile painting your lips — you’re so beautiful, he thinks.
ex!suguru who lies because he knows it's what you need to hear. you had already stayed longer than you wanted because you didn’t want to hurt him. he wasn’t surprised. you were just so considerate, through and through. he had always thought the relationship was too good to be true anyways, never truly feeling worthy of you
ex!suguru who doesn’t cry, but that is because he feels numb. he can’t remember feeling a pain as intense as this one.
when your tears have stopped, only shy sniffles escaping you, he comes with one last confession. “i’m always going to love you.” he waits, hoping you would say it in return. it isn’t because you don’t love him anymore that you can’t keep going, it’s just because it isn’t working.
“i know,” you say quietly and his heart shatters.
ex!suguru who has his friends fooled because they think he is over the relationship already. he acts the same, eats the same and goes about his business the same — but that’s because it doesn’t concern anyone other than the two of you.
first weekend as a single man, gojo forces him to go out clubbing with him. he really doesn’t want to, but he can’t give his friend any excuses he will accept.
he hates every moment of it, rudely shutting down anyone that approaches him. no matter how attractive, no matter how charismatic, no matter how willing — they’re not you so what’s the point?
ex!suguru who hates the universe a little more than usual. despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to escape you entirely. and he swears he tries, but you somehow just appear every now and then.
he spots you in the grocery store, doing your daily shopping. he spots you in the line of the coffeehouse, ordering your usual drink (one he knows by heart). he sees you on every feed, posting pictures and updates of your life — you seem happy.
his heart screams for him to surrender to his desires, to approach you and hear your voice again. but he knows better, so after torturing himself by admiring you for a few seconds, he simply turns on his heel and leaves.
ex!suguru who after years still thinks about you as much as the day you left. he has tried to move on, but it feels like a betrayal, even after all this time.
has he healed? sure, a little. life goes on after all. with time he has been reunited with some sense of happiness. however it could never compare to the period of his life where he was so fortunate to be with you.
ex!suguru runs into you after nine years. and not like all the times he has simply noticed you down the street — no, you fully crash into his chest one day while walking out of a bakery.
to say he is surprised is an understatement. he has memorised all the places you used to visit so this exact scenario wouldn’t happen, and this had never been a chain you had set foot in before. but a lot changes in nine years.
“suguru, hi.” your voice is light, a rhythm in it that was not present at the end of your relationship. “wow, crazy running into you. how have you been?”
“good,” he croaks, eyes glued to your face. he still finds you as ethereal as the day you left. he wants to say more, but he is a little unsettled by how at peace you seem to be despite not being with him. “and you?”
it doesn’t go unnoticed how you present yourself as genuinely content with where you are in life. however, suguru goes through the entire heartbreak all over again — he has missed so much of your life. he used to think he would be along side you for every single moment of it. instead he is stood in front of you and feeling as if the walls are closing in on him.
his breath catches when you stretch out your hand to grab his forearm. “it was really great seeing you again,” you muse. it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he believes he hears a sadness in your voice that comes from missing him.
“you too,” he whispers, and you’re gone again.
ex!suguru who eventually comes to terms with just being alone again. before you, he always imagined this was how it would end, not the person made to share his life with someone.
you had obviously made him believe otherwise. with you by his side, waking up next to someone and sharing your meals didn’t seem so silly anymore.
but it turns out he only wanted those things if it was with you.
tags @sad-darksoul ノ @madaqueue ノ @toadtoru ノ @hiraethwa ノ @harperluvgojo
©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
#— ଓ my creative corner#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto#suguru geto oneshot#jjk suguru geto#jjk suguru#geto#suguru#suguru x reader#geto suguru
568 notes
·
View notes
Text
Episode Seven and White Tears
The trial's allegory is not just a lynching, it is a lynching for a Black person entering a relationship with a respected White man, and proceeding to leave him. It's not a murder case, as seen through the show, there's actually very little emphasis on the murder in the episode in regards to Louis. The emphasis is on his "seduction", his "ungiving nature", and "refusing to give his body". It is a public humiliation and lynching for turning a respected white man down. The crime isn't hurting Lestat, it's hurting his feelings.
Lestat doesn't speak to the audience about the pain of his throat being slit. He speaks of loneliness, the audience chants and jeers about how cheating was justified if Louis isn't putting out. Santiago isn't talking about the murder, he's talking about how much of a sexual deviant Louis is the second he is introduced. The show is telling us what's important to the case, and what language hurt and stuck out to Louis the most. The deciding factor in the eyes of the audience, the story that Sam and Santiago are trying to tell, is that the crime is heinous because Louis turned down Lestat.
The audience isn't mad about the murder, they're mad about Lestat's emotions, they're mad about the betrayal, and they are mad that Louis and Claudia didn't put up with things. The case built against the two of them isn't based on violence, it's based on white tears. Louis isn't called a monster for slitting Lestat's throat, the audience member calls him a monster for turning down Lestat's advances.
The show is clear that the trial isn't really about the murder, it is about Louis not "giving enough" for Lestat. It's about Louis asking Lestat to turn Claudia and literally bargaining his happiness where he literally gets on his knees and says "I'll be happy for you, I will never leave you if you do this for me". It's never been about the murder, it's quite literally just shaming Louis for not "loving a good man who might be abusive".
At the end of the day, the trial as framed and written by Sam is building a case off of Lestat's tears, not actual physical harm.
Like my skin is crawling but also the show is so chilling with how it portrayed the "He's a good man so hold your tongue and endure! Lest you read as ungrateful".
Anyways someone take the laptop from me before this becomes my life.
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#vampterview#iwtv meta#louis de pointe du lac#but also i love how the show literally portrays the 'how dare louis not want lestat' argument as an explicitly vapid take...#also love how it explains how the 'Louis is asking for it/deserves it' framing explicitly takes agency from both Louis and Lestat as chars#Lestat is like 'nope this was what I choose to do' and refuses to let someone take that choice away from him#Lestat says it was a bad choice and now he sits in it... apologia made by others doesn't matter and shouldn't be made in his opinion#being mean vs murder... uhhh i think being mean is actually the worst crime Louis has committed here!#And of course they have to frame it like that because if they didn't the clear domestic violence would be put into question
597 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: love this man but also love me some 🎶 angst 🎶
———————————————————————————
You had always known Gambit and Rogue shared a complicated history, but you never imagined it would lead to this. It started innocently enough – a lingering glance here, a playful smile there – but soon, it became impossible to ignore the growing tension between them.
One evening, as you walked into the common area of the X-Mansion, you found Gambit and Rogue deep in conversation, their laughter filling the room. But as you approached, their smiles faltered, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you had just interrupted something.
"Hey, what's going on?" you asked, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling gnawing at your gut.
Gambit glanced at Rogue before turning to you with a nonchalant shrug. "Just catching up, chère," he replied, his tone casual as ever.
But you could see the tension in Rogue's posture, the way her eyes darted away from yours. Something wasn't right, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being kept in the dark.
As the days passed, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered between you and Gambit. Every time you caught him stealing glances at Rogue or sharing inside jokes with her, it felt like a knife twisting in your heart.
Finally, unable to contain your frustration any longer, you confronted Gambit one evening in the training room. "What's going on between you and Rogue?" you demanded, your voice trembling with anger and hurt.
Gambit's expression hardened, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of defiance and guilt. "It's nothing, chère," he insisted, but his words only fueled your anger.
"Nothing?" you scoffed, feeling the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. "Don't lie to me, Remy. I see the way you look at her, the way you flirt with her. Do you think I'm blind?"
Gambit's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "It ain't like that, okay? Rogue and me, we got history, but that don't mean nothin'."
But his words fell on deaf ears as the anger inside you boiled over. "I can't do this anymore," you cried, the pain of betrayal cutting deep. "I can't compete with your past, with her."
And with that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the training room, leaving Gambit standing alone, grappling with the consequences of his actions and the realization that he had pushed you too far.
———————————————————————————
For days, the tension between you and Gambit hung thick in the air, neither of you willing to address the elephant in the room. Every interaction was strained, every word carefully measured, until it felt like you were walking on eggshells around each other.
But despite the distance that had grown between you, Gambit couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at his insides. He knew he had to make things right, to prove to you that you were the one he truly cared about.
So one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the X-Mansion grew quiet, Gambit sought you out, determination burning in his eyes. He found you sitting alone in the garden, the moonlight casting a soft glow on your face as you stared off into the distance.
"Chère," he began, his voice gentle yet filled with sincerity. "I messed up, and I'm sorry. I should've been more mindful of your feelings, of what this – what we – mean to each other."
You turned to face him, your expression guarded yet hopeful. "And what about Rogue?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Gambit sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. "Rogue and me, we got history, but it's just that – history. You're the one I want, the one I care about. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, to earn back your trust."
For a moment, the air between you was heavy with uncertainty, the weight of the past and the pain you both carried threatening to tear you apart. But then, slowly, you reached out to take his hand in yours, the warmth of his touch melting away the walls you had built around your heart.
"I want to believe you, Remy," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to show me, not just tell me."
And with that, Gambit pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he vowed to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that his heart belonged to you and you alone. And as you melted into his embrace, the weight of the past began to lift, replaced by a glimmer of hope for the future.
#angst#misunderstandings#rogue#rogue xmen#gambit imagine#gambit x reader#gambit xmen#gambit#xmen#x men 97#xmen imagine#remy lebeau imagine#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau
826 notes
·
View notes
Text
her //kmg//
summary- with your marriage in shambles, you find yourself at your wits end when Mingyu's infidelity comes to light. heated discussions ensue.
pt 2. pt3.hv pt3.sv
Mingyu never thought he'd end up here. As tears brim over your cheeks, hurt evident in your eyes, he feels his world collapse.
Sure, he'd only married you because his father arranged it, but as your relationship comes up on its first year, he's developed certain feelings towards you. Feelings you can never know of. Feelings he thought you'd never return.
Your marriage has never been a point of envy for those around you. It's common knowledge that you and Mingyu hate each other's guts. You've made your peace with this- or at least you thought you did, until this morning, when your breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected voice message.
'hi, it's me- um I think you left your tie at my place last night... d'you wanna come get it? I've uh, I've bought that set you told me to get last week. call me back, kay? see ya'
The words ring clear as day in your head, even now, as you sob into your palms, hunched over in bed.
Filled with dread, you waited for your husband to leave the house, heading to work. You knew he would've heard the message- her message- sometime during the day, and so, you waited.
Waited for the call-
"I'll be home late today- there's an issue that came up last minute. don't wait up."
There. That same excuse you've heard night after night, for months on end. Your heart breaks when you realise that Mingyu's probably gone to see her everytime he had to 'stay late at the office'.
Although you knew going into this marriage that there would be no love, no romance, you couldn't help but hope. Hope that one day your husband would wake up and realise that he's been in love with you all along. Hope that one day the fighting and screaming would cease. Hope that one day he'd look at you like you matter to him.
Hearing the practiced ease with which Mingyu lied to you, you felt your last straw snap. No love, you could deal with. No intimacy, you could self satisfy. But no respect? Taking you for a fool, playing around behind your back, lying? You've reached a new low.
What's worse is, despite knowing that he's in the wrong here, you can't help but wonder what she has that you don't. What can you do to make him love you? How can you make him want you?
Mingyu's neglect has done permanent damage to your self esteem, and now you find yourself caught in an endless loop of obsession.
Evening rolls around and you're alone, in your big apartment, surrounded by cold, white furniture. Your house is spotless. It's clean and neat and unfamiliar. You can't call this place home. Not when nobody really lives in it.
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as your mind fills with thoughts of your husband's infidelity. He's smiled at her, undressed her, touched her. Fuck, he probably looks at her and sees the ghost of what could've been.
No, you tell yourself. You cannot possibly be crying over a man who doesn't care about you. Where is the self respecting woman you once knew? The one that would stand up tall, make her presence felt.
Hours pass by like this, and the house grows dark. You haven't moved from your position in bed- scrunched up, hugging your knees close. You haven't eaten all day. You haven't thought of anything but Mingyu's betrayal.
There's a sharp jangle of keys sticking into the door, and you know he's here. You can't bring yourself to move, can't be bothered to greet him like you usually do.
His bag lands on the couch outside with a dull thunk, and he makes his way to the bedroom.
You should move- pretend to be asleep so he doesn't try to say anything, turn to the side so he doesn't notice your pain- but you don't. You can't, rather.
Mingyu walks in, head hanging low. He notices your frame, hunched up on the mattress, and his shoulders tense.
"you're up" he says to you, as if to confirm.
You stay silent.
"y/n?"
More silence.
Flicking the lights on now, Mingyu takes a step towards the bed, now noticing the red hot flush of tears streaming down your face.
"hey what's-" he draws closer, arm reaching out to thumb away your tears, "you're crying,"
So you did end up crying.
All the mental pep talks you gave yourself about self respect and how he doesn't deserve your tears, clearly didn't do much.
You lift a hand to your cheeks, feeling the wetness of your tears.
"oh", is all you can manage, wondering when you started crying, sitting dumbly as if under some sort of spell. Your eyes, unfocused, stare blankly at the wall in front of you, and your lips begin to quiver.
"what's wrong? oh my g- please don't cry" Mingyu panics, reaching out to grab your face, but your words have him freeze.
"don't. don't touch me."
Your voice is a whisper, trembling like a leaf, but it carries a dangerous certainty.
He backs away instantly- "is everything oka-"
This time you turn to the side, facing him properly, and something within him just knows that you know.
"oh." he breathes, eyes flashing with guilt.
"when were you going to tell me?"
When he fails to respond, you push further, voice laced with a dangerous mix of hurt and rage.
"how long have you been seeing her for? goddammit Mingyu I know you don't love me- I know you aren't happy but god how could you do this to me? to us? you have to remember, I'm just a woman at the end of the day. I'm only human- fuck" you break off into a sob, letting your words, your emotions free. It was reckless- being so raw- but there's nothing to lose anymore...
You've already lost what little you thought you had.
Your watery, blank eyes tremble upwards to meet his, and you see his face contort with an unrecognizable kind of pain. You've never seen him like this before.
"whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- you could've taken it from me, I'm your wife Mingyu. god, I feel so fucking stupid waiting for you all this while to just love me- and you've been crawling into someone else's sheets? Do I disgust you so much that you won't even touch me to satisfy yourself? Do you hate me so mu-"
"don't you dare." Mingyu interrupts, jaw tensing, "you can call me a liar, a cheat, an asshole I don't care but don't you dare try and tell me how I feel- not when you don't fucking know anything."
Your brows pinch together, an insurmountable rage boiling inside you, and you rise to your feet, standing as you face your husband.
"oh, I, don't know anything? What about you then, Mingyu? What do you know that I don't? I'm telling you how I feel 'cause I fucking see it. I see the way you look at me with that unamused, tired look in your eyes, I see how you don't talk to me, I see how you leave your stupid fucking ties at some girl's house 'cause you'd rather fuck her than touch m-"
You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Somehow, saying what you already know, makes if feeler so much more real. You can't bear the thought of him not loving you, not wanting you.
"you think this is what I wanted? you think I wanted to look for someone else instead of touching you? fuck y/n after all the screaming and fighting, you think I didn't wanna reach out and hold you? everyday when I get home you think I don't wan- fuck do you really think I don't wanna talk to you and hear your voice and feel you?"
You shake your head, slightly afraid of how Mingyu's eyes have darkened, taking on a crazed hue.
"my arms would never have comforted you, y/n. You thought me a stranger. How could I touch you, knowing damn well you don't want me like I want you?" He stops, chest heaving with bottled emotions, and his words ring in your head.
'you don't want me like I want you'
Trembling hands ball into fists, punching his chest as tears stream down your face. How dare he? How dare he assume that you didn't want him- that you didn't love him?
"you fucking idiot" you sob, fat tears rolling down your cheek.
There's a short pause as Mingyu derives meaning from your words, and his eyes widen.
"y-you mean to say that you lo-" he chokes back a shudder when your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt in wordless confirmation. A hand wraps around your fist, pulling you closer, and your eyes widen.
"what are you doing-"
"what I should've done a long time ago."
A swift tug has you stumbling forward, right into him, and your lips meet. Mingyu's free hand splays against your lower back, dragging you nearer- as close as physically possible- while he devours you like a prisoner on death row receiving his last meal.
It's a messy, desperate kiss, but the sparks it sends flying over your body has your knees growing weaker and weaker. His lips cradle yours, sucking, tugging, pushing, as he holds you like there's no tomorrow. Tears prick your eyes once more, but this time it's different.
Now you can feel his emotions, feel his love.
The longing, the yearning he's felt all this while, comes pouring out into the points where your bodies connect. His touch sends fire burning all over you, chasing away your despair and replacing it instead with red-hot desire.
Mingyu's tongue pushes into you, licking at the seam of your mouth, circling your tongue as he discovers you in a way he never has before. You can't help but whimper at his actions, and you find yourself getting lost in him. No sound- other than your heartbeat, thudding in your ears- is audible to you. Nothing. It's as though you're underwater, and your hearing is muffled- except this time, it's him you're drowning in.
Aching lungs remind you that air is a necessity, and you both pull away, a string of saliva connecting your crimson lips to his. The rapid rise and fall of your chest tells Mingyu to give you time, but his body doesn't listen.
The taste of you is addictive.
He pulls you in once again, ignoring the helpless gasp you let out in response. Trailing up your back, Mingyu tangles his hand into your hair, letting his palm cradle the nape of your neck. The plush surface of his lips feel sinful against yours- leaving you in desperate need of more. His tongue swipes at the seam of your mouth and you let him in, giving him access once again.
The hand holding your wrist crawls up to your palm, interlacing his fingers with yours, and squeezing tight, as if to reassure you, as if to say- 'I'm right here, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere'
"Mingyu," you breathe against his lips, "do you reall-"
You feel his lips quirk up into a smile, letting his canines show ever so slightly, and he moves down to your neck, right below your ear.
Sucking harsh, wet love bites into the sensitive skin, he whispers-
"I love you more than words could even begin to describe"
His breath ghosts over your ear, spreading goosebumps all around your body and you shudder at the sudden stimulation. Pulling back, you look him in the eye, lust and love brewing in your own.
"so show me"
It's as though you've awoken something within him- something he's been trying to tame, to control. There's a fire burning in his eyes, dancing with danger, with desire. Without warning, Mingyu pushes into you, closing the space between your bodies, and you let out a pitiful whimper.
"will you let me?" he takes in a sharp breath, feeling your body against his.
You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and nod. Mingyu taps at your thighs, and you jump right away, trusting him blindly to catch you.
"good girl-" he rasps as his hand travels down to squeeze the curve of your ass.
Mingyu sucks bruises into your skin- neck, chest, jaw- wherever he can, and you let him, not caring about who sees them. You tip your head down to do the same, but something stops you.
A bruise.
He tugs you back, searching your eyes.
"what's wrong?"
"she's kissed you here"
He sighs.
"we don't have to do this- I've j-"
"no! no I want to- I want this god I want this I just- can I do something first?"
He nods.
"anything you want, my love"
Mingyu places you back down and lets you push him onto the bed, laying him down on his back as you crawl on top of him. Stradling his waist, you begin to unbutton his shirt, letting the crisp white fabric fall slack against your fingers.
"you're mine now, you got that?"
"all yours baby, only yours" he breathes as you part his shirt.
Your eyes skim over the hickeys painted over his chest and your heart twists painfully in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, and immediately Mingyu sits up against the headboard, holding your face.
"I'm so sorry- I- fuck we shouldn't-"
"no."
"baby..."
"no- I want these-" you motion to the bruises on his chest, "I want these off of you"
Mingyu nods silently, leaning back against the headboard, and you continue your actions. Lowering your face to his throat, you find a red-ish splotch, and attach your lips to it, sucking into the tender skin so hard it breaks, leaving a purple bruise behind.
He winces as you move to the next one, sucking harder and harder each time, desperately trying to erase the past. Observing this, Mingyu's face softens. A gentle, guilty smile stretches past his lips and he brings a hand to pat the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to pull you closer- flush against his bare chest.
A yelp escapes you as you lose your balance, falling forward into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you still as he says-
"I'm yours," He squeezes around you, nuzzling into your neck, "I can't change the past, and I'm sorry for everything I've done- sorry for hurting you the way I did"
You can feel how rapidly his heart thuds against his chest, beating on the door of his ribcage as if it wants to be let out, as if it wants to jump out of his chest, into your hands.
"it hurts," you sniffle, "it really hurts"
His fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, trying to melt away your pain, feeling his own heart shatter into a million pieces. This is of his own doing, though. Only he is to blame.
"lemme make you feel good, hm? let me show you how much you really mean to me,"
You nod, letting him move you as he pleases, until you're under him, nestled comfortably between the pillows, with him hovering over you. The veins of his forearms tense deliciously as they hold his weight, and you feel your body grow hot.
Soft moans slip out of your mouth when he lowers his face into the crook of your neck, sucking red marks into you- gentle, yet firm. His lips suction your skin, teeth nipping at the chosen spot until your skin breaks, before letting his tongue soothe over the crimson bruise.
Like this, he carves a path down your neck to the collar of your shirt, stopping right at your cleavage.
"this okay, my love?" he stares up at you, one hand shifting to tickle the hem of your shirt
"mhm"
Gently, like you're made of glass, he undresses you, gasping when he realises that you're bare underneath.
Your skin catches him off-guard, and Mingyu finds himself transfixed. Like an anchorite discovering the face of God, he stares at you in wonder, in awe, finally feeling complete.
The intensity of his stare has you nervous, and you lift your arms to cover yourself.
"do-don't stare," you mumble, cheeks growing hot as his eyes burn holes into your skin.
"can't help myself- you're so beautiful,"
"Mingyu please," you whimper, feeling wetness pool between your legs, "I need you"
Feverish hands roam over you, and his head dips into the valley of your breasts, pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin. Mingyu closes in on your breast, letting his teeth nip gently at your hardened nipple, and you gasp, feeling your body light up at the motion.
He grins against you, repeating the action and you let out a trembling whimper.
"don't tease" you plead, threading your fingers through his hair, "need you so bad Gyu,"
"I could kiss you all my life and never get enough,"
Enough said. You tug him up, pushing your lips together once again in a messy kiss. Mingyu grinds into you, and you gasp at the prominent bulge poking out of his trousers. He uses this to his advantage, pushing his tongue into you, letting the wet muscle trace over the corners of your mouth as if to memorise every texture, every taste.
You chest flutters, and you whimper into his mouth, almost losing your composure when he begins to carve a path from your lips to your stomach, leaving gentle kisses down your collarbones, chest, tummy.
Stopping at the waistband of your shorts, Mingyu looks up at you, eyes practically begging that you allow him to undress you.
"please" you whisper, head tipping back into the pillows when his hands smooth down your sides, hooking under your shorts to pull them off. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he tugs the fabric down, tantalisingly slow.
The sensuality, the intimacy of this act finally becomes known to you, when your eyes stay stitched together, as if connected by string.
Once you're left completely bare, at his mercy, he kneels.
At the foot of the bed, as if it is your alter, Mingyu kneels, letting your ankles rest on his broad shoulders. He presses tender kisses to your limbs; ankles, calves, thighs, making his way up to his very own pot of gold.
Liquid gold.
"baby you're dripping-" he groans, almost frustrated with how stunning you look, splayed out and wet, all for him.
His kisses inch closer and closer, moving from your thighs to the tender flesh right next to your sex.
You know what comes next.
"oh"
Your lips part, settling into an 'o' shape, when Mingyu licks a long, fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit to prod gentle circles with the tip of his tongue.
For a man who's hasn't as much as kissed you before, he sure knows how to work your body.
Perhaps you were just made for one another.
You feel the thick trickle of arousal seeping out of your hole, and Mingyu laps it up, letting his tongue dip into you slightly, curling up to cup every last drop.
"fuck you taste divine," he groans, voice low and gruff, "better than everything I've imagined-"
Your heart swells.
"you thought abou- f-fuck Mingyu right there"
He smirks against your cunt, humming a quick affirmation that sends a jolt up your spine.
"thought of you every night, wanted to hold you, feel you-"
You gasp, gulping thickly at his words, and your mind grows fuzzy, filled with cotton as you feel your body beginning to float away.
Mingyu brings his lips around your clit, suctioning the sensitive bud out of its hiding as his tongue laps at it. Your grip on his hair tightens, and your mouth hangs open- whimpers slipping out, beyond your control.
Without warning, Mingyu slips a finger into you, pushing his way in. Your back arches off the bed, and your hips snap up, but he holds you down, basking in the long drawn moan he manages to rip from your throat.
The stretch of your walls around his digit has you whimpering and writhing under him, and you can't help but wonder how big his cock is, how it would split you open for good if his fingers are already almost too much.
As if he read your thoughts, Mingyu winces at the way you suck him in.
"so fuckin' tight-" he gasps, jaw dropping in awe at how your tiny little cunt stretches to accomodate a single finger.
With the way Mingyu worked his tongue against you, and his finger into you, it's no wonder your orgasm begins to build. You feel your body tense, on the verge of release, limbs and stomach tightening as he works against you.
"please- don't sto- oh" you shudder when his tongue presses harder.
The great wave of pleasure rises, up and up, higher and higher, ready to come crashing down any moment now, when suddenly, he plunges a second finger into you, ripping your orgasm out of you with such force, your legs tremble as a string of moans and profanities leave your parted lips.
Mingyu scissors into you, fucking you through your orgasm, as your arousal drips down his fingers, down his wrist. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he pistons in and out of you, and you shudder.
"w-wait I'm still-"
"sensitive? mm I can tell" he smirks, lowering his face back to your cunt, tongue lapping at your juices eagerly.
He prods the muscle into you, bullying it's way beside his fingers to collect the remnants of your orgasm.
"fu-" you gasp, feeling your body convulse.
Cupping his tongue, Mingyu drags your wetness up your folds, spreading it over your clit before licking firm circles around the sensitive bud.
You moan, helplessly, and your body is ablaze, nerves standing on edge from the intensity of your previous orgasm.
As he continues his assault on your overstimulated sex, you feel another orgasm build at record speed.
Feeling you clench up around his fingers, Mingyu pushes harder, licking tighter circles into your clit, and you come undone within seconds- shocking both yourself and him.
"that's it, that's my good girl," he sighs, secretly in awe of how responsive you are to his touch.
He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whimper at the sudden loss.
"patience," he soothes, tongue trailing up his wrist to the tip of his finger, taking in your arousal.
Your breath hitches at his actions.
"you taste too fucking good to waste any of this"
Rising off the floor, he licks his lips, staring down at you with adoration painted plain as day on his handsome face.
His knee presses between your legs, and you feel the bed dip under his weight. Swift hands unbuckle his belt, undoing the clasp with one hand while the other works at his buttons.
Before you know it, Mingyu's pants are off, leaving him in plain black boxers and an opened shirt. He peels his top off, tossing it to the side, staring into your eyes.
"you can touch," he rasps, tugging you up to sit before his naked torso.
Your body listens before your brain can comprehend his words, and you let his hand pull your wrist up, placing your palm flush against his abs.
Your jaw drops.
He's rock solid. Years of hard work and dedication have defined the ridges of his muscles, and your mouth waters at the sight. You trace over each contour, each ridge, before turning your attention to his arms.
Those were another story altogether...
The thick, sturdy flesh of his biceps tense under your touch, rippling as your fingers pushing into them, testing how firm they really are.
answer: very.
Your nails rake down his arm, drawing over his veins, and he sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his cock grow painfully hard.
You notice, and tug his boxers off, gasping when you see his cock spring free.
It's huge. It's long and thick and veiny, flushed red at the tip with pent up energy. You bring your hand to stroke it as gently as possible, and he hisses, hips startling when you make contact with his dick
"baby," he pleads, using one hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, "say it again"
You're confused for a moment before realisation hits.
He wanted you to say that you-
"I love you," you state, loud and clear.
His eyes darken, jaw tensing as he grits out, "again."
Mingyu pushes you down, laying you on your back, and you speak, voice meeker than before.
"I love you,"
He let's out a shaky breath.
"again"
"I love y-"your voice is a whisper now, cutting off into a stunned gasp when he pushes into you.
"oh my god," you tremble, your voice small and frail.
The girth of his cock is nothing like you've ever felt before- not with other men, not even with the toys you use. He eases himself into your tight cunt, going as slowly as his body let's him, and your eyes screw shut.
"uh uh, eyes on me,"
You look up at him, eyes wide as your brows scrunch up. Your jaw falls slack, and you can't stop your throat from opening up to release the filthiest sounds known to man.
"that's it, shh- takin' me so good," he shudders, eyes honed in on the way your face contorts in pleasure.
With each inch his pushes further, your thoughts disappear one by one, until all that's left is him.
"Mingyu" you choke out, nails clawing at his exposed back, "I love you"
Whatever seemed to have been holding him back snaps for good, and he bottoms out in one swift motion, earning a loud moan in response.
You feel your lungs burn as he pulls all the air out of you, feel how deep he is inside you.
Mingyu pulls out, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before slamming back in, one hand on your hip, pulling your body closer, harder.
His head drops to the spot below your ear and he let's his teeth graze the delicate cartilage.
"I love you," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I love you so much,"
Angling his hips, he pulls your thighs up over his back, and his cock burrows deeper inside you, hitting a spot no one ever has before.
"Mingy- oh my godd" you drawl, voice shaking as he thrusts into you with force enough to power a tiny village.
The sheer girth of his cock has your walls pressing into him, squeezing so tight you can feel each ridge and furrow of his veins.
"so fuckin' perfect- m-made just for me-" His voice is a whisper. He pants into your ear, groaning everytime you squeeze around him.
The solid, steady snap of his hips into you has your head spinning. His size has you losing your mind, and soon enough, you're thoughts are limited to him.
"Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu-" you sob, tears streaming down your face at how he abuses your cunt, how he makes you feel so fucking good.
"I know, pretty, I know," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the spot under your ear, before pulling himself up to look at you again.
The sight before him has his eyes widening. It's as if his world stops. Hair fluttering around your face, skin glistening with a thin film of sweat, lips red and parted as you moan his name through thick sobs and teary, glistening eyes- fuck, how could a person be this beautiful?
"I love you," he shudders, looking you in the eye as his hand trails down to fiddle with your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the flesh.
Your head falls back, tipping into the pillows, and you choke out a strangled- "I love y- m'all yours Mingyu"
Gaining newfound access to your throat, Mingyu kisses greedily at the exposed skin, groaning as your cunt clenches down around him.
Your sounds- nothing short of pure sin- echo around the room, bouncing off the walls. The air is heavy, steaming up with the heat emanating off of your bodies. After all this time, the wait is over. He's finally yours.
As your moans turn shrill, increasing in volume and pitch, Mingyu's own voice grows breathier, and you know you're both close.
On the verge of falling deep into the cool black embrace of pleasure, you clutch desperately at each other, rutting into one another as if there was no tomorrow.
His thrusts grow sloppy as your cunt clamps down on him, and you feel your orgasms rip out of you like a whirlwind. You claw at his back as your body shakes under him, releasing your third orgasm, and he groans deeply into, riding through his own high.
Hot spurts of cum dribble out of you, forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock- still thrusting into you.
"f-fuck Ming- please," you blubber, tears staining your cheeks, "s'too much-"
His hips halt their reckless movement, and he pulls out of you, watching as your combined orgasms trickle out of your hole.
"too much?" he asks, bringing a hand up to stroke you cheek so lovingly your heart melts.
"mhm," You nuzzle into his palm, "but it was perfect."
For a moment he stares into your eyes, guilt panging in his chest at how you look at him with so much love, despite all that he's done.
"we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow, hm? let's just- let's just stay like this for now"
You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, and he shuffles beside you, pulling your limp frame into his chest.
The haphazard thudding of his heart tells you how nervous he is, how he's afraid to lose you, and you smile.
"hey," he mumbles, sleep taking over.
You hum and it reverberate in his chest.
"I love you"
"I love you too, Gyu"
"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for how we started," he places a soft kiss to your forehead and you mumble something incomprehensible, already drifting off to sleep.
A fond smile takes over his lips, and he sighs.
You're the best thing to have happened to him.
#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#smut#kim mingyu#anon ask#mingyu smut#kim mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#mingyu#mingyu is an asshole but he feels bad#kpop writers#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#seventeen mingyu
755 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unexpected Return
Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader, Lando Norris x Noah Words: 1543 Request: How would Lando react if Noah's dad came back? And him wanting to know Noah but only so he can met all thease famous people? Masterlist
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
Lando and Y/N had built a beautiful life together. From the day they met there was an undeniable spark between them, one that grew into a deep and fulfilling love. Lando, with his warm smile and unwavering support, had become everything Y/N had ever hoped for. They married in a cozy ceremony surrounded by close friends and family and Lando even adopted Y/N’s son, Noah.
Noah was now seven years old, full of energy and curiosity, a constant source of joy and laughter in their home alongside their daughter Maebry. Lando had embraced his role as a father with all his heart and Noah adored him in return. Their bond was unbreakable but one fateful day their happy bubble was about to be burst.
Lando sat at the kitchen island, staring blankly at the stack of papers in front of him. They were from a lawyer’s office, detailing the request for a meeting with Noah’s biological father, Tom. The words blurred together as a storm of emotions swirled in his mind.
He had been up all night, grappling with the realization that Tom was back. The man who had left Y/N and Noah without a second thought, the man who had abandoned them in their most vulnerable time, was suddenly reappearing as if nothing had happened. Lando’s heart pounded with anger and disbelief. How could he just show up now, after all this time? After not giving a damn for seven years?
He remembered the early days when Y/N had told him about Tom’s departure. The pain and uncertainty she had faced while raising Noah alone had been palpable. Lando had stepped in as a steady presence and he had come to love Noah as his own. To him, Noah was his son in every way.
The idea of Tom coming back now felt like an intrusion, a violation of the family that Lando and Y/N had worked so hard to build. He couldn't help but think of all the moments Tom had missed - the shared hot chocolates on a cold night, the splashing in the water together on the beach, the late-night cuddles on the sofa and the countless days filled with laughter and love.
He paced the kitchen, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The thought of Tom sitting across from Noah, trying to claim a place in his life after so many years of indifference made Lando’s blood boil. It was about Noah’s well-being, his stability and the family Lando had fought so hard to create and nurture. Lando’s role was to ensure that Noah felt safe and loved and now Tom threatened that.
When Y/N walked into the room, her eyes filled with concern, Lando’s frustration bubbled to the surface. “I just don’t get it,” he said, his voice rough and loud. “He didn’t give a damn about Noah. Now he shows up like he’s entitled to something?! How can he just come back after all this time?!”
Y/N moved to his side, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard, Lando. It feels like a betrayal and it’s not fair but we have to handle this carefully. Noah deserves to understand his past but he also needs to know that we’re here for him, no matter what.”
Lando nodded, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “I just can’t stand the thought of Noah being hurt or confused. He’s my son. I want to protect him from this.”
Y/N squeezed his shoulder. “I know you do and you will. We’ll take this one step at a time, together. Noah’s safety and happiness are our top priorities. We’ll show him that, no matter what happens with Tom, you are his dad.”
They gathered in the cozy corner of the living room, the same spot where they had spent countless evenings reading stories and sharing moments of joy. Noah, sensing the seriousness of the conversation, nestled into the cushions of the sofa, his small frame wrapped in his favorite blanket. Y/N and Lando sat down beside him, their expressions tender but concerned.
Y/N took a deep breath and began gently, “Noah, there’s something we need to talk to you about. It’s very important and might be a bit confusing but we want to be honest with you.”
He looked up at her. “What is it, mommy?”
Lando reached over and gave Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze before speaking. “Your biological father has reached out to us. He wants to meet you.”
Noah furrowed his brow, trying to process the information. “But... why?” he asked, his voice small.
“We don’t have all the answers right now, sweetie,” Y/N leaned in closer, her voice soft and comforting. “He’s reached out because he wants to be a part of your life but what’s most important to remember is that nothing changes for us.”
Noah glanced over at Lando, his eyes searching for reassurance. “But I have a dad,” he said softly. “You’re my dad.”
Lando’s heart ached at the vulnerability in Noah’s voice. He smiled gently at the boy next to him. “I am, buddy. Nothing is going to change that. I love you and I always will. No one can take away what we have together.”
Noah’s face softened at Lando’s words, though the confusion still lingered in his eyes. “So... what happens now?”
Y/N wrapped an arm around Noah, pulling him close. “We’ll take things one step at a time. We’ll be there with you. And if you have any questions or need to talk about how you’re feeling, we’re here for you, always.”
Noah nodded slowly and looked up to his parents. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I guess we can figure it out together.”
The next few weeks Lando watched as Noah met Tom under supervised conditions, feeling every pang of discomfort and mistrust. Each visit was a reminder of the betrayal that Tom represented but Lando remained composed. Through it all, Lando’s love for Noah never wavered.
As time went on, it became clear that Tom’s presence did little to alter their family dynamic. Tom’s attempts were weak and in return it was almost as if Noah didn’t care at all about the man who tried to insert himself into his life.
The meetings with Tom had left Lando feeling uneasy and he couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that Tom’s motives went beyond a genuine desire to reconnect with Noah. Lando had seen enough to know that something was off.
One afternoon Lando’s suspicions were confirmed. He received an unexpected phone call from a close friend in the entertainment industry, someone who had become familiar with Lando’s life through various public appearances. His friend revealed that Tom had been dropping Lando’s name in circles, speaking of the “potential” opportunities his association with Lando could bring. The friend had heard Tom’s comments about meeting famous people and leveraging Lando’s status for personal gain.
The realization hit Lando like a ton of bricks. It was as if Tom’s return was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated scheme to benefit from Lando’s fame and connections. Tom wasn’t interested in being a father; he was interested in the perks that came with being connected to someone like Lando.
His anger flared. He felt nothing but betrayal - not just for himself but for Noah, who had been unwittingly caught in the middle of this. The thought that Tom could use Noah as a stepping stone to further his own agenda was infuriating and he had to tell Y/N.
Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her body tense and her eyes brimming with tears. She looked up at Lando with a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak. The weight of what she had just heard was clearly overwhelming.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I’m positive,” Lando said, his tone resolute but edged with a deep-seated rage. “It’s clear that he doesn’t care about Noah or us, he just wants to use this situation to benefit himself.”
The tears she had been holding back now spilled freely down her cheeks. “How could he do this? How could he be so selfish?!” she choked out, her voice breaking with each word.
Lando’s heart ached at the sight of Y/N. Seeing her so devastated made his anger toward Tom burn even hotter. He moved to sit beside her on the bed, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “I know, love,” he said softly, his voice filled with pain. “I hate that he’s causing all of us this hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near us, especially not around Noah.”
“We can’t let him do this,” Y/N leaned into Lando, seeking comfort in his embrace. “Noah deserves so much better,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
“I won’t let him hurt you or Noah. Never.”
The next step was clear. Lando and Y/N made the difficult decision to formally sever contact with Tom. They consulted with legal advisors to ensure that Noah’s well-being and safety were protected, ensuring that Tom’s presence would not be a part of Noah’s life moving forward.
________
AN: This was actually a bit challenging, so Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶
Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya
#lando imagine#lando norris imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando angst#lando x noah#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#lando x reader
374 notes
·
View notes
Text
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ♡ 𝓒hapter 𝓢ix
꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱
⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀your cheating ex-boyfriend joel comes back running to you after two years of pain he left you. he doesn’t get the hint that you want him gone until miguel steps in to help.
⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, tension, arguments, swearing, mentions of cheating, ooc!joel (he’s a major selfish asshole in this), fandom crossover (image as pre-outbreak!joel), backstories
❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
pure fury in your tone. piercing eyes as daggers, staring down into those brown eyes of betrayal. those same eyes you used to love but now despise.
the man you despise with every fiber of your being. the man who broke your heart. the man who betrayed you and cheated on you.
joel knew how this was gonna go yet he still flinched. the bastard actually flinched.
“i-i know this is unexpected but i—”
“no.” you step forward with a stern expression on your face, as if you’re ready to murder him on the spot. “you get fuck the out of here.”
joel hesitantly steps closer. “please i—”
“stay the fuck away from me.” you snarl, stepping back. “get the fuck out of here, now.”
a flash of guilt and hurt over his features. a big sigh escapes him. “i know i promised to stay away and i did- i just wanted to see—”
“no.” your voice drops an octave. “you do not get to come here and ask for forgiveness. i came here to get away from you.” you point at him with an aggressive finger. “away from the pain you caused.”
the guilt continues consuming him whole. the way his shoulders sag, guilt and regret settling on them like a throne. that horrendous night is haunts him to this day. the look of betrayal and hurt on your face that is forever ingrained in his mind.
“baby, please—”
“don’t call me that!” you shout, voice filled with anger. causing joel to wince and take a careful step back. “you lost the right to call me that when you fucked another woman.”
his heart aches but you’re right. everything about you he lost the right to. the endearments, touches, kisses, hugs, everything. joel forever regrets it. regrets touching another woman. regrets bringing another woman to the bed you used to sleep on. regrets approaching another woman. regrets listening to his stupid friend convincing to go talk to another woman. regrets drinking that night. his drunkness isn’t an excuse and joel knows that. he was a stupid asshole who wanted to fool around.
“two years, joel… two fucking years of freedom from you and the pain you left me. and now you trying to waltz back in and beg for forgiveness? to run back into my arms? you’re a fucking idiot.”
the audacity this fucker has to come running back to after two years and breaking your heart.
there’s no way in hell you’d ever forgive him.
“i’ve been healing over these past two years. i’ve been doing great, actually. and now you’re here. always good at fucking things up, huh?” you taunt.
he winced once more. that stabbed his heart, a million knives at once because it’s the truth.
“i know… i fuck up everything good in my life. the one good thing in my life.” his voice laced with pain and regret. “i just… i just wanted to see you…”
“well, you have now so get the fuck out of here.”
he has this pleading look on his idiotic face and you ain’t falling for it. “you left without telling anyone… i didn’t know you left state. i… i was looking for you but nobody told me where you were.”
“because i never told anyone.” you answer curtly. “i didn’t want anyone to know and anyone to tell you. why the fuck would i tell you after what you did?”
“you told sarah.”
you go quiet for a second. the fury still bubbling inside. “she’s the only one. i know she would never tell you because she hates you too.”
joel knows you’re right. when sarah found out about her dad’s disgusting behavior, she hated him since. still now to this day and joel doesn’t blame her.
you know sarah didn’t tell him. he must’ve heard it from someone else. now thinking about her, you miss her. she was like a daughter to you. recalling your time together, girl bonding days, pranking joel whenever he got home from work, helping her with her homework, talking about boys.
beautiful memories destroyed by joel’s hands.
it was hard to leave her behind. as if you were abandoning your own daughter. hell, if you could you would’ve taken her with you. you keep in contact with her once in a while. last time was six months ago. she’s been okay, busy with school.
after the whole cheating affair and your departure, sarah refused to stay home with her bastard cheating father. it was a long battle between them. she told you everything on the phone. turns out she has been staying with her uncle tommy, joel’s brother, and his wife maria for a year now. rarely visits joel as a way she still acknowledges him since she’s still his daughter, unfortunately.
“she doesn’t talk to me.” joel reveals solemnly, even though you already know. “she lives with tommy.”
you remain silent, desperately wanting this conversation to end and him to leave.
“she misses you, everyone misses you… i miss—”
“don’t.” you snarl. “don’t you fucking dare say that.”
joel whispers your name so softly, it makes your blood boil. you continue cutting him off, never letting him get the chance to say any bullshit.
“i can’t believe you have the fucking audacity to come here and say sorry after breaking my fucking heart. breaking your fucking promise to leave me alone but that’s what you’re good at, breaking promises.“ your tone raises, all of your fury spilling out. “i’m not gonna tell you again, fuck off.”
luna starts growling, specifically at joel. she growls whenever you’re angry, scared or danger is nearby.
joel stands there like the pathetic fuck he is, bullshit spilling out of his mouth. “i know- please—”
“back off, huevón.”
a third, familiar voice steps in. turning around, you see miguel standing there with a scowl on his face. staring down at joel with skeptical, cautious eyes. clenched fists hanging at his sides.
you are surprised yet… relieved he’s here.
joel, on the other hand, is completely caught off guard by a man with an intense bulky structure as if he is a bodybuilder. just so intimidating.
“who the hell are you?” joel asks, his expression matching miguel’s.
“a concern individual.” miguel answers curtly. “she isn’t going to tell you again, leave.”
the frown on joel’s deepens a little. “look, pal - i understand your concern and i promise i’m not bothering her in any way but this is a private conversation.” his tone remains civil yet a bit stern.
“yet you are bothering her by not leaving like she told you.” miguel rebuttals, slowly approaching and stands by your side. arms crossed over his chest.
oh shit - you recognize that pissed off look on joel’s face. he’s a man not to mess with, you’ve seen what he is capable of. but compared to miguel, joel probably wouldn’t stand a chance. not to mention miguel is in the military and has more combat experience. but the last thing you want is a fight.
“who are you? her bodyguard?” joel injects.
“enough, joel. just leave.” you step in, staring at him.
joel’s eyes flicker between you and miguel as if he’s connecting dots. “are you with him?” he sounds in disbelief, or rather surprised.
the audacity this motherfucker has.
“no i’m not, joel. even if i was, you have no right to talk shit. now you need to leave.”
the man stands there in silence. eyes filled with guilt and irritation. guilty of the pain he causes you and irritated because of bigfoot beside you. the heavy glare from miguel making joel feel annoyed yet uneasy. there’s only one choice for him to do.
with a heavy sigh, joel raises his hands in a cautious manner. “alright… i’ll go. i’m sorry...” as he turns and begins walking away, feeling yours and miguel’s glare, he stops when he hears your voice.
“don’t ever come back here again.” pure fury in your tone. you had to let him know loud and clear.
he sends you a pitiful look, only giving you a nod before turning back and walking away.
you and miguel keep a careful eye on him until joel is completely out of your sight. a large wave of relief courses through you. a big weight lifted off your chest, allowing you to breathe. finally letting out that breath you have been waiting to let out.
“you okay?” miguel asks, concerned.
“yeah.” you sigh, looking back at him. “thanks for having my back with that shit.”
“always.” he said sincerely. “i was coming back from the boxing gym and i heard yelling so i walked over to see you arguing. i was worried he wouldn’t leave you alone so i had to intervene. i’m sorry if it was too much and suddenly barging in.”
you lightly shake your head. “no no it’s okay, i get it. i’m actually glad you did, thank you.”
miguel nods, relieved that you were okay with his sudden arrival. he was afraid that he was invading your personal affairs but the fury on your face and your body language, stepping away from joel, caused miguel to act, to be a protector and defender.
“should we head back inside?”
“yeah, i need a drink after that shit.”
both of you chuckle as you head back inside, leaving behind the mess joel left here.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈
you and miguel return to your apartment. the argument leaves you an emotional, pissed off mess so you lazily search for that bottle of wine your sister gave you as a birthday present.
“i can take care of it.” miguel offers in a gentle tone.
“no it’s okay, i got it.” you softly reject, lazily reaching up for two glasses from the cabinet.
“hermosa…i know you do but you shouldn’t have to worry about one more thing.”
he’s right, you know he is.
this whole shitshow, that asshole joel running back into your life just to see you and try to win you back after the shit he did is unbelievable.
not only it left you pissed off but also mentally exhausted from those painful, unwelcome memories.
a sigh escapes your lips. “you’re right… thank you.”
miguel flashes a small smile as he gently takes the glass cups from you, taking care of it while you sit down on the couch snuggling with luna.
he walks over and hands over your glass. you thank him with a kind smile before he sits down beside you, leaving a few inches of space between you.
it was silent for a moment until you speak.
“sorry you had to witness that.”
“no it’s okay. i was more worried than bothered.”
miguel hesitates to ask the next question. who that man was? he already knows the answer but still can’t make assumptions, you never know.
“what do you think of my ex?” you joke sarcastically, taking a sip of your wine.
yep, he was right.
“honestly, an asshole. no offense.”
that makes your chuckle, making miguel smile.
“a selfish, cheating asshole to be exact.”
miguel’s eyes wide in shock, in disbelief.
how could anyone cheat on you? a kind, generous person. that idiot has lost his damn mind.
“that’s insane, him cheating on you.”
you shrug. “three years of dating and decided to fuck a random woman on our shared bed. classic, right?”
oh now miguel is pissed off. blood boiling in anger, disbelief, frustration, and sorrow.
how could that asshole do that to you? three years of dating? that’s a long time and he decided to throw it all away for a random woman?
joel has no idea how lucky he was.
“i’m so sorry, that’s horrible.”
“what’s worse is when his daughter found out.”
miguel’s brows furrowed in surprise. “daughter?”
“yeah, he has a daughter named sarah. the mother is unknown. when she found out, it was chaos.”
miguel stares at you in disbelief, more than he already is. this cheating idiot has a daughter? that’s just unbelievable, crazy even. what kind of an example is he setting up for his daughter?
“we were the perfect family, just the three of us. well, luna too so four.” hint of sorrow in your tone, making miguel’s heart ache. “sarah was like a daughter to me. she even called me ‘mom’ sometimes.” a sad smile on your face, flashbacks of those times. “until her dad decided to fuck another woman.”
flashbacks of the horrible night haunts you.
“it was all perfect until he broke it with his stupidity.” miguel can sense the resentment you have for joel, rightfully so. “not only he hurt me but sarah too.”
the look you give him stings miguel’s heart. aching terribly for you and sarah.
a sad sigh escapes you. “it was so chaotic… everything was… ruined.” you take another sip, a bit more this time to drink down those tears slowly prickling your eyes. “i had to leave… i had to get out of there… i couldn’t stay in the same house, the same bed where he had someone else there.”
immense remorse is all miguel could feel. how sorry he is for you, thinking you deserve way much better. how his heart aches seeing you sad, hurt and frustrated. it pained him, an awful feeling setting on his chest. to see you not smiling or laughing like your typical self makes his heart crack.
all because of that idiot who didn’t deserve you.
he also doesn’t ignore the thin layer of tears that are slowly forming in those pretty eyes.
all he wants to do is pull you into a hug but miguel isn’t sure if you’re comfortable with that. so instead, he simply listens as the good person he tries to be.
“sarah doesn’t live with him anymore, she lives with her uncle, joel’s brother.” just mentioning his name alone makes you gag. “she hates him as much as i do.” you let out a weak chuckle.
rightfully so, miguel thought.
“i sometimes talk to her, once in a while. she’s fine, busy with school. last time we talked, she mentioned some boy she’s been talking to. i hope they’re doing okay, doing better than her dad and i.”
that joke makes miguel frown, remorsefully.
“i really thought it was perfect… but i remind myself that not everything lasts forever.”
those words hit miguel deeply, right into his chest. he definitely knows what you mean.
“so i left, without telling anyone because i didn’t want them to know or tell joel.”
miguel nods, understanding. he wouldn’t either if he was in your position. that idiot has no right to know.
“it was very hard the first year… took me a while to heal, get over it but i eventually did. until that asshole showed up, opening up pandora’s box.” you let out another sigh. “but i’m not gonna fall back into that shithole.” a bit of confidence in your tone. “i worked my ass off to get where i am now, i’m not getting let that asshole hold me back, undo everything.”
seeing you regaining your confidence makes miguel smiles, proudly and happily.
“not today satan.” you make a toast.
miguel chuckles, lightly tapping his glass with yours and drink together to that toast.
“i’m really sorry you went through that.” miguel starts off. “you deserve better than that, and sarah.”
“thanks.” you flash him a little, appreciated smile. “sorry for trauma dumping on you.”
“don’t be.” he shakes his head. “i appreciate that you were comfortable with telling me this.”
“well, i appreciate you being a great listener.”
you smile at one another, a little longer than usual. gazing into each other’s eyes. those mahogany ones boring into yours, lost in trance. neither of you notice how close you are to each other. it’s unclear who moves closer during your conversation. now you happen to be barely inches apart.
you were being honest about miguel being a great listener. it’s hard to find someone who is. sure, you have friends but you don’t see them often like you do with miguel. being around him makes you feel at ease, and safe. a strange yet comforting feeling. miguel feels the same way. a feeling he isn’t so familiar with, not for a long time.
the staring contest continues until the ding! sound from your phone makes you both snap out of it. grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you receive a text from mj asking for a girls day out with her and lyla. glancing at the time, you realize it’s late. miguel should head back home.
“it’s late, i don’t wanna keep you up.”
“you’re not but…” miguel glances at the time on his watch. “i guess it is.”
after helping you put away the glasses, you and miguel say your goodbyes for the night. you take a nice, long shower to wash the feelings away. sipping inside the soft sheets of your bed, you close your eyes forgetting today’s dilemma.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @marshhbs @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @watertribeissuperior @lovehadlovelost @auiciqa @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @miguelsfavwife @asterrrrose @glossygreene @aefin @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @jadeloverxd @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#military!miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara angst#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara smut#across the spiderverse#fanfic series
274 notes
·
View notes