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lilithslittleworld · 4 months ago

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New To This

A/N: I made a poll a few weeks ago about wanting to write a new smut with several different scenarios/characters with a winner of "Jacob Black x Reader"!

I initially wanted to write a really steamy, sexy scene but it ended up evolving into a steamy but also loving/fluffy sex scene! *i feel like this is werewolf Jacob meets cute, pre-wolf Jacob* I hope you all enjoy ;)

(PS: Nessie does not and will not exist in this fanfic, aka you and Jacob will live happily ever after. Also both of you are 18 or above ).

Summary: A few weeks after Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob teaches you how to cliff dive. You're sure you could teach him a few things too...

The wind howled viciously, sending your hair flying in every direction and shivers that racked your body. You stepped closer to the cliff's edge, peering slightly over to catch a glimpse of the angry waves below.

Jacob stood behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he scowled at you. "This is a terrible idea," Jacob huffed, his dark eyebrows pinching in worry.

Jacob never wore shirts, or at least that's what it seemed like. "It was your idea," you reminded him. Jacob glared at you in response but took a step forward.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. It was a silly question to ask, since you both knew the answer.

"You better believe it," you grinned back at him. You pulled off your thick coat, leaving it folded on a rock beside Jacob's truck. You two would have to come back up for both sooner or later and the idea of being weighed down by a water-soaked winter coat didn't sound ideal. Your boots came off as well, for good measure.

The cold made your hands sting, turning your knuckles an angry red as you stood in your thin, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks. Jacob on the other hand, stood comfortably, despite lacking a shirt and in shorts.

"H-how are you not freezing?" you asked incredulously, your teeth chattering, "It's the middle of December!"

"I'm just a little hotter than most," Jacob winked at you, holding out a hand. "Ready whenever you are."

You rolled your eyes at him but brought your hand to his. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger they were, most of Jacob was anyway. They were also exceptionally warm just as you had expected. Maybe he did run warmer than the rest of people...

"Okay," you breathed, as Jacob guided you both to the cliff's edge, the waters below you lapped furiously at the rocky coast, "On the count of three. One, two, th-"

And suddenly you were falling. You screamed at Jacob for not having respected the countdown but it was useless, the fall was short and the wind howled even louder as you plummeted into the cold, dark water.

Your body sank like a stone, the weight pulling you down deeper into the frigid water. You thrashed your arms, desperate to make it to the surface once again. Thousands of little ice-like knives sank into your skin with every movement. You wondered how Jacob was handling the cold. But there were more important things to think about now. You were running out of air.

Now only a few feet from the surface, you felt a strong arm pulling you up towards it at an incredible speed. Your head broke through the surface, your mouth opening automatically to gasp the free air greedily. As your panic started to ebb, your sight began to unblur slowly, taking in your surroundings and the breathless boy before you.

"Y/N!" Jacob gasped, partially due to the little stunt he'd pulled with the jump, having swam around to find you, and worry. "Can you hear me?"

You nodded quickly, taking into account how clogged your ears were. "I'm good," you croaked, followed by a tamer fit of coughing.

Jacob wrapped a protective arm around you, dragging you along with him as his legs and free arm paddled you both towards the shore. You protested at first until it became clear that you were unable to swim that distance and that Jacob would never let you go.

"That was fun," you noted cheerfully, as the ocean floor below you began to rise enough for Jacob to stand. It would take you a little longer to reach.

"Yeah, well it's never happening again," he scoffed, wading out of the shallow water, "You could've died." You watched as little water droplets dripped from his short hair down his toned back and shoulders, secretly hoping swimming with him would happen again soon.

It was no secret that you were attracted to Jacob. Besides, he rarely hid the fact that he was interested in you as well. You two had met at Bella Swan's wedding. It wasn't a great introduction, to say the least, but it eventually blossomed into whatever this was. Jacob was always honest about what he felt but he had never made any grandiose confessions or even really specified what you were to him, apart from a girl he liked. He was careful around you.

Jacob's voice interrupted your thoughts and so did the cold. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there," he called out, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Stupid fireboy," you muttered under your breath, as you dragged your nearly numb legs forward. He was right. Your fingers had started to turn blue and you became aware of how little of your body you could feel.

"What was that?" he grinned, amused at your suddenly cranky mood.

"Oh, I know you heard me," you hissed, swatting his arms away as he tried to pull you into them. "Stupid supersonic hearing."

Jacob laughed, clearly still thrilled. "Come here," he said, scooping you into his arms. You were so grateful for the warmth that radiated from his skin that you said nothing as he carried you across the woods.

"I could teach you thing too, you know," you said sullenly, watching the little beach disappear from your sight.

"I'm sure you could," he replied, "But no one's teaching anyone anything until you're out of these wet clothes and showered."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he intending to shower with you? You had never done more than makeout with this boy but the idea of him in a shower with you sent your pulse overboard.

Neither of you said anything else until Jacob's house. You had never really been inside before. Any ideas you had of it were based on the little you had been able to see when you peeked through the front door, waiting for Jacob in other occasions. Now, you stepped through the doorframe, taking in the small but cozy house.

Jacob walked you towards a little wooden door. "My room," he noted quietly, scratching his neck embarrassed, as you peered inside. It had a twin bed, a wooden desk, and a handful of tiny, wooden sculptures. On his bedframe, right above his pillow, hung a delicate dreamcatcher.

How many times had you imagined his room? Now you were in it, your past daydreams and fantasies coming to life.

"Do you want to shower first?" Jacob asked, pulling out a clean towel from the bathroom closet. Oh.

"Sure," you said, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the slight disappointment that dripped in your voice. This was, after all, the first time in his house, he wasn't going to rush into anything just because you were here.

Showering brought back the humanness in you that had been lost to the cold. Your skin returned to its normal feel, slightly tingly from the warm water and you could now feel every inch of yourself. You lathered yourself up in soap, scrubbing extra in all the places that might be the slightest bit smelly. You washed your hair too, getting rid of any sand or seaweed that had found its way there.

You wrapped yourself in the large towel that Jacob had given you, grateful that it covered you almost entirely. With the edge of the towel, you wiped away a circle on the foggy mirror. You looked almost the same as you had this morning, which was a relief.

Jacob sat on his bed, fiddling with his hands as you tiptoed into his room.

"You can go," you said softly. Jacob looked up at you. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. A hint of blush spread along his face, as his eyes made their way down from your mouth to your neck and finally landing on your collarbones.

Jacob stood up quickly, pulling pieces of clothing from his drawers. "Cool," he smiled at you, "Don't go anywhere."

Jacob's room felt cozy, even with just you in it. Your hands unfolded the lumps of cloth he had laid out for you: one oversized t-shirt and a pair of what seemed to be old boxer shorts. You pulled them on gratefully, now really feeling warm and cleaned up. They smelled like Jacob, a scent that sent your heart into an excited flutter.

The sound of running water sent an excited shiver down your spine. You had imagined Jacob showering so many times on your own, taking your time to really focus on what he did in there. If only you could see him now. The idea of Jacob naked now, made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

The silence broke your train of thought. Jacob would be back in his room in just minutes and here you were, fantasizing and hyperventilating over him. You sat down on the edge of his bed, making an effort to take deep breaths, an attempt to look as normal as possible. You sat awkwardly on the corner of his bed, trying hard not to be suggestive or the opposite of that.

Jacob walked in, his hair still damp and holding the tightly wrapped towel around his hips. Your eyes made their way to where his towel met his bare skin, your imagination wild. Seeing him now was so different to all the other times, this time there was almost nothing between you except a little towel, ironically.

"Enjoying the view?" Jacob's voice pierced the deafening silence but his playful tone didn't match his eyes. His deep, dark eyes burned into your own, a want behind them that was almost palpable. You felt your face growing warm at his words but there was not an ounce of regret in you.

"I think you're wearing far too much clothes," you answered boldly, an answer he seemed to enjoy as you watched a smile creep onto his lips.

"You're one to talk," he chuckled, turning away from you as he searched for his next change of clothes.

"I think that's an easy problem to solve," you said softly, pulling off the boxers you wore and tossing them over to him. Jacob caught them easily, pulling them on quickly before dropping the towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He was getting dressed, not undressed. You felt stupid now, feeling significantly naked despite the dress-like shirt that covered you.

Jacob seemed to pick up on your puzzled expression. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, exhaling before he spoke. "I've never done this."

It actually came as a great surprise that Jacob was a virgin. You had expected him to be fairly experienced, given his attitude and the obvious physical attractiveness. Now you were thrown off your game.

"I-I really thought you had," you confessed, "A few times actually."

Jacob shook his head, his eyes still trained intently on the floor. "Never really got the chance," he said softly.

A pang hit your heart. Jacob seemed truly embarrassed and almost hurt. It had never been your intention to make him feel bad about the matter. You knew something had hurt him far before your had come along. You didn't know much about his past attachment to Bella Swan but you were sure that she wasn't a person that had brought him much joy during that time.

"It's okay, Jake," you assured him gently, "I was just curious but it doesn't matter."

Jacob brought his gaze up to you, his eyes soft. "I'd like to try but I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

"You won't hurt me, Jake," you replied, walking over to him before reaching your hand out to his. He took your hand in his, the warmth of his skin spreading all over you.

You pulled him towards you, your eyes never leaving his. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me if I hurt you," Jacob said earnestly, his grip on your hand tightening faintly.

"I trust you," you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck, placing your other hand on the side of his face.

Jacob leaned his face against your hand momentarily before taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips softly against yours. It was no surprise that his lips were just as warm as the rest of him. A shiver ran down your back as you kissed him back, your lips moving gently against his. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it. Jacob groaned, pulling you closer to him, his breath quickening. Soon, every bit of you was touching him, every inch of skin against him. You could feel the little droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and running down your back from the heat of his body.

The need for him gnawed at you, the flutters in your stomach grew as Jacob took you into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. A ripple of pleasure went through you as you made contact with his hardened length, barely concealed by the boxers you'd thrown at him earlier. Jacob walked you over to his bed, his strong arms holding you up against him, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down slowly, placing a steady hand against the mattress on either side of your body.

You brought you lips back to his eagerly, hoping he wouldn't be as careful with you anymore. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere as long as Jacob tiptoed around you. You were going to set the pace. Your kisses deepened as you ran your fingertips lightly down his neck towards his chest, Jacob's breathless sighs mixing with yours as you touched him. Your fingers trailed down along his chest, making their way towards the edge of his boxers. You could feel Jacob's stomach quivering as you brought your touch closer to him. You wanted so badly to feel him trembling beneath your hands.

You dipped a finger under the band of his boxers. He felt so much warmer than anywhere else. You wanted to feel that heat everywhere. Jacob's breath hitched when your hand came in contact with him, so hard and hot on your fingertips. Instinctually, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length, not surprised its size. He was so big. You brought your gaze back up to Jacob, who now had his eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You watched him as you gave him lazy, long strokes, practically drooling at the noises that came out of his mouth. He looked so beautiful, so lost in your touch, his muscular arms beginning to shake as he kept himself propped up above you. A finger rubbed softly against his already wet tip brought a strangled moan out from Jacob. Your strokes became quicker, mesmerized at the feeling of him growing harder in your hand.

Jacob slowly began to come undone above you, his whole body shaking as he held himself up above you still. "Please," was all he could coherently plead. And you loved it. Seeing this vulnerability in Jacob was something you were not expecting and it only made you want him more. Your strokes returned to the slower pace you had started with, knowing he was just minutes away from cumming.

Jacob opened his desire-filled eyes as your hands came to a stop. You pushed him back gently, your hands on his muscular chest, until he was sitting on his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows, pulling his shirt off of you, as Jacob watched you with wide eyes. Now fully exposed before him, excitement coursed through your veins. Jerking him off had made the heat pool between your legs almost impossible to ignore. You were desperate for any sort of release and you were going to get it.

You laid yourself back on the bed, Jacob still kneeled at the foot of it, his eyes trained on you, running up and down your naked body. Slowly, you ran a hand down your chest, pausing to squeeze your boobs before trailing your fingers down your stomach. Your legs parted, knowing very well what view Jacob would have from where he sat. And you began.

After years of knowing your body, touching yourself was simple and well known. Your fingers brushed your clit lightly, gasping at the shock that ran through you. The circles started slowly, pacing yourself as the tightness in your stomach began to build. You lost yourself in the pleasure, not holding back the moans that sprang from your lips. You knew very well Jacob too, was touching himself. You could hear it. The noises of his slick hand running up and down his length, mixed with his soft groans and breaths.

You opened your eyes to the vision of Jacob touching himself, his eyes dripping with lust as he watched you do the same to yourself, the veins on his arms bulging from the movement.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked slyly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"You," he panted, his chest rising and falling as he responded.

"Mmmm," you breathed, "What about me?"

"About touching you. Tasting you. Being inside of you and making you feel so good," he said, his deep voice strained as he tried to contain himself.

"I want you to," was all you said.

Jacob was back on top of you in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. Kissing, touching, and licking every inch of you. He felt like the sun, spreading a delicious warmth all over you. His mouth was on your stomach, parting your legs with his arms before trailing down to your inner thighs. You wanted him so badly and he knew.

His mouth found your clit, giving it a light lick as your eyes rolled back, gripping his hair tightly. You moaned as you felt Jacob's tongue drawing circles, your hips bucking involuntarily seeking more.

"Mmm," Jacob hummed, sending vibrations through your core as he did. You were so close.

"Wait," you breathed, your mind foggy from the pleasure. Jacob looked up at you, his expression slightly worried.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered, his mouth still wet from you.

"Kiss me," you commanded, pulling him to you eagerly. Your lips met in a frantic effort, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of yourself on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, moaning softly at the feeling of his hardened dick against your bare stomach.

Jacob rolled over onto his back, his hands on your hips as you now straddled him. Your hips moved automatically against his, brushing your clit against his cock, your wetness dripping onto it.

"God," Jacob groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements to an even quicker pace. "So hot."

"I need you," you breathed, throwing your head back as you neared your orgasm again, "Inside of me."

Something snapped inside of Jacob as you moaned those words. His hands fumbled to find a condom on tiny nightstand beside his bed, wasting no time in pulling it down his cock. You lifted your hips as he positioned himself below you before pulling you down for another kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.

"I am," you replied, kissing him gently.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. Your heart leaped.

"I love you too, Jake," you sighed back.

You lowered yourself onto him slowly, taking time to adjust to his size, listening to Jacob gasp as you took more of him in. He stretched you perfectly, the tip of his dick hitting your G-spot as you started to tentatively bounce up and down him. As you sped up, Jacob's hands found your boobs, taking them into his mouth as you moaned his name, his hands snaking their way down your back.

"Jake," you moaned, as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple.

"Tell me," he groaned, "Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So good," you panted as Jacob's lips found your neck, biting your soft skin gently.

"That's it," he pleaded, "Ride me just like that. Please, Y/N."

Your hips were moving at an incredible speed, bringing you so close to the edge. You could feel Jacob's cock twitching inside of you, signaling his approaching orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, no longer worried about what you said or how. All you could think about was Jacob.

"Mmmm, cum all over me," he breathed, his fingers gripping your ass tightly as he made you ride him even faster. It was all too much. Jacob inside of you, Jacob groaning your name, his breathless pleads, the heat of his body. Your orgasm shook through you, you threw your head back and cried out in pleasure. Your sight even blurred momentarily. Jacob's orgasm quickly followed your own, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breaths, entangled in a sweaty mess as you did. Jacob stroked your hair softly and you traced imaginary swirls along his chest.

"So," you began, "you love me?"

Jacob laughed, his whole body shaking and ultimately shaking you as well. "Of course I do, Y/N."

You shrugged. "You'd never mentioned it."

"Well, my past love confession didn't go too well," he sighed, "Which I know is unfair to you but I wanted to use those words carefully this time, especially with someone as special as you."

"I understand," you smiled, propping your head on your hands to meet Jacob's gaze, "It's just nice to hear is all."

"It's nice to say," he said, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

"Hmmm," you said thoughtfully, "Are you going to tell your dad?"

"Got nothing to hide," he winked at you, "I'll tell all of Forks if I have to."

"Jake!" you squealed, though you knew he truly would. Jacob was the showing off type.

"Kidding," he said, poking you in the side, "Unless..."

"Knowing you, you'll probably call the local radio or put up posters," you rolled your eyes at the idea of either of those happening, "Why don't we go cliff diving again tomorrow?"

Jacob's smile tugged even harder at the corner of his lips. "I've got an even better idea. Something you taught me today."

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A/N: honestly I didn't know how to end this oneshot I'm so sorry it's a little meh :/ but I really loved writing Jacob x Reader sm I might turn it into a oneshot series!!!

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #jacob black #team jacob #jacob black x reader #jacob black imagine #jacob black smut #twilight smut #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight fluff #jacob black fluff #the twilight series #the twilight saga

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androgynealienfemme · 2 years ago

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"I was born thirty eight years ago and raised to be a nice Chinese girl. But nice Chinese girls don't grow up to be dykes and rebels. And I turned out to be both.

I grew up on silence. Though I was part of a large extended family, we ate in silence. There was no conversation or laughter, just the sound of soup spoons and chopsticks against rice bowls. I was not encouraged to talk, express emotions, or ask questions. I grew up with a heritage of silence.

I was a girl child, the first born in a traditional Chinese family, raised to be seen but not heard, raised to excel in school but not be curious, raised to be someone's wife but not to be a person of my own. When I was growing up in England, Hong Kong, and San Francisco, I read everything I could get my hands on, but none of the books spoke of my own experience. I started writing when I was eleven years old to fill the silence and to turn the years of rejection into affirmation.

You're probably wondering what the hell any of this h as to do with sex. The answer is- plenty. What I write is shaped by my history and experience as both a Chinese woman and as a lesbian.

Chinese is my first language. But I was fluent only in the words my parents deemed it necessary for me to know. I was certainly not taught the words for breast, cunt, ass, or orgasm. There were no words for sex; therefore, sex did not exist.

I came out as a lesbian when I was twenty-one, but I didn't start writing about sex until almost a decade later. Sure, I wrote love poems, but I never wrote about sex. I was, after all, a nice Chinese girl and we didn't''t talk about things like that. --

I have always loved women passionately. I love the way a femme moves across a dance floor, knowing all eyes are focused on her. I love the hard eye-to-eye look from another butch as she sizes me up as competition- or her next conquest. I love the fluid seduction in a femmes eyes. I love the long line of her neck, her delicate earlobes and soft lips, painted some shade of red or unpainted but deeply flushed from having been kissed long and hard. Many times. I love the curve of her breast, the hardness of her nipples, the softness of her stomach, the fullness of her ass, her legs with a faint covering of hair or long and sleek in black silk stockings. I love the strength of her in her thighs, the firmness of her biceps, the feel of her forearms as she takes me. I love the smell of her heat and the place of pleasure between her legs. I love her ankles and her delicate toes and her soft instep where I run my tongue until my teeth are gripping her Achilles tendon. I love the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her, the sight of her. I love women passionately.

Some women do not attend my theater or literary events for fear of supporting my sexual politics. I have been accused of recruiting. Never mind that I have a long history of writing, community organizing, and activism. Now I am judged solely for my leather sexuality. It's never been easy being different, but I have always survived. I will continue to speak out, write truths, and make waves. My countryman Mao Zedong wrote, "Dare to struggle, dare to win." I say, dare to write. Dare to be different. And who says nice Chinese girls don't talk about sex?"

"Who Says we Don't Talk About Sex?" Kitty Tsui, The Persistent Desire, (Edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)

#lesbian #lesbianism #the persistent desire #butch femme #butch lesbian #femme lesbian #butch #femme #lesbian writing #lesbian history #asian lesbians #lesbians of color #chinese lesbians #writing #recs

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deadhands69 · 1 month ago

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Something More [than each other]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn reader

MDNI

Setting: fuckboy!Bakugo, mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

Warnings, etc: smut, angst!!!, light violence/injuries, drinking/intoxication, vomiting, swearing.

[sorry, you’re a mess in this one - i'll make it up in the next one, i promise!]

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - this is part 7 - part 8

“[y/n]”

Your name in his voice haunted your dreams and followed you through the day well after you’d woken-up. Such a small thing to mean so much. Maybe you’re overthinking it, you have to be. People say things they don't mean to during sex all the time. Especially when they've had a bit to drink.

It's not like that though, this is different.

Katsuki Bakugo had never used your real name before, opting to call you ‘Backfire’ based on your quirk or some other rude nickname he came up with on the spot. If he hadn't added it to the top of a project the two of you submitted together, you could have assumed he didn't even know your full name. Even after sleeping with him for a month you still weren’t on a first name basis.

That is, until last night.

The memory is etched into your mind. Living rent free, playing on repeat.

“[y/n],” he moaned in your ear moments before whimpering into your neck as he finished. His face lingered on your shoulder, soft lips grazing your skin while he panted to catch his breath. Typically, he moved quickly. One of you being out the door of the other's room within five minutes. Last night he took his time, arms wrapped around you even after you'd both recovered. Eventually, he kissed the back of your neck, cleaned himself up a bit, and left - forgetting his hoodie on your bed.

(Like someone who is normal and totally not obsessed,) you've picked apart every detail of the night for signs of meaning. It all comes back to your name. Over and over and over again.

Nothing else exists.

Of course, you want to ask someone for advice but you haven't told anyone yet. When you tried to, it felt too personal. Also, with your friends reminiscing about their cute dates it felt weird asking them to decipher the significance of your friend with benefit’s moans. A friend they'd known since high school. Too awkward.

You couldn't even talk to Bakugo for a reaction, because he left this morning. His part time side-kick job requires him to travel sometimes. He'll be in another country the whole week and you don't think he even has cell service. It's just you now. You, here alone in your room with his voice stuck in your head.

You want to text him every time you're thinking of him, but don't want him to be overwhelmed when his flight lands and the messages come flooding in.

This is a totally normal way to feel about a friend you tell yourself while laying face down, clutching his sweatshirt in the bed he fucked you in last night.

A week later, and you still can't get him out of your head. Your closest friends have been keeping an eye on you more than usual, although they don't know the whole story. Being the only people (as far as you know) who know about your "situation" with him, they both assume you're distant this week because of his absence.

If only they knew.

In any case, Jiro and Mina are heading to a party tonight and you decide to tag along. It'll be good to get out for a bit. Quickly throwing on something cute, you don't make too much of an effort because Bakugo only just returned so he's likely jet lagged and going to bed early. You saw him out your window a bit earlier, looking tired and pretty roughed up. Tomorrow you'll reach out. For now, let him rest for the night. He needs it.

In the lobby, you meet up with your friends before leaving. Kiri texted Mina that Bakugo would be there as well. Your heart jumps more than you'd like to admit at that. The three of you almost wait for them but Kaminari wants to make a beer stop on the way so you agree you'll see them all there shortly. Everyone seems to be preparing to go harder than most nights.

There will be no crazy partying for you though.

Professor Aizawa was nice enough to offer to train with you in the morning, making space in his busy schedule. You’ve been struggling with expanding the reach of your quirk and mentioned it to him in passing. Much to your surprise, he’d offered to help. In spite of what Katsuki Bakugo believes, you absolutely do not have a crush on your teacher but he’s been your favorite hero since you were a little kid and you can’t pass the opportunity.

Speaking of Bakugo, you see Sero and Kaminari. Where is he?

This house is massive. You begin wandering around the party in search of a tall blonde, he should stand out. The living room is dimly lit but you finally spot his messy hair. And he's-

Suddenly, you wish you hadn't seen him. In a dark corner, he's letting himself be pressed into the wall by a random girl you'd never seen before. His hand on her shoulder, staring down into her eyes making that awful lovesick face.

Fuck.

Being stabbed in the heart might have felt better. You stumble out the door of the house, the contents of your stomach begging to escape. A quick visit to the bushes gains the attention of a very worried Jiro, but you're determined to get out of there. You can explain it to her later (considering how hesitant she still is of your situation, she'll completely understand.)

Carelessly, you slam straight into Shinso. His purple gaze looking you over to make sure you’re okay. There’s some unspoken communication between him and your friend before he decides to get you home safely. You know you’re completely sober but by the way you’re behaving, eyes glazed over and stumbling, no one else does. Nor would they believe it if you pressed the issue. You don’t fuss about it, simply following him on autopilot.

You’re not here though, your brain is a million miles away being forcefully wrenched from some universe where you and Bakugo had any chance together.

He’s not yours, you know that.

He’s not anyone’s. He doesn’t do that sort of thing.

You know it was just physical. Just for fun.

You know it shouldn’t be a big deal.

You know.

Then why does this hurt so bad?

Shinso grabs your wrist, helping you narrowly avoid tripping over a curb. Still, you can’t be bothered to pay attention to your surroundings.

Your heart hurts. You just want to be home in bed, but even that doesn't sound comfortable. Nothing and nowhere will make you feel better. And what's worse, you let this happen. You shouldn't have spent the last week daydreaming about someone you should have known doesn't care about you like that.

You told him you wanted more fun in your life and, feeling guilty, he gave you that. What was it he said at the beginning of the term, that you needed to get laid but no one pitied you enough to? Then he had reason to feel bad and proceeded to sleep with you. Maybe you should have listened to him when he told you who he was. Let's face it: you chose the wrong person to care for.

The boy with his hand around your arm is so fucking nice, why can’t you just like him?

Or anyone else? Or better yet, no one?

Before you know it, you’re sobbing. Concern creeps over the violet haired boy’s face, having been prepared to keep you safe physically, not knowing to expect this. He brings his face level with yours and asks if you’re okay. You don’t respond.

Because you’re not okay.

You want your life to go back to when you were happy just being alone. Before you knew what it was like to be close to Katsuki Bakugo. Before you let him get too close.

[sorry this one is so short! it made the most sense to end this part here. i won't leave you hanging too long though - part 8 will be up very soon. it's the final part, switching between Bakugo’s perspective and yours]

part 8 m.list

Taglist: @anonymity-222 @k1tk4tkatsuki @arsonfrogger @dragonscribble @kalulakunundrum

@screaming-dough @rikislove @gold24fish @ita606 @arc6021

@pikachuzhc @jeanbabygirl @nemisimp

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orshii · 5 months ago

Text

Can You Hold Me?

✶ Pairing: tennis player! Kim Hongjoong x therapist female reader ✶ Word count: 10,8 k ✶ Warnings: cursing, traumatic past, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol use, a lot of angst, a little suggestive at the end

✶ Summary: You had chosen to become a therapist, but why? So that you could help others, and at the same time escape your dark and traumatic past. One day, the problematic tennis player Kim Hongjoong comes in for a session, and everything changes from then on as you find solace and understanding in your traumatic pasts.

✶ A/N: Yoo, I'm back omg, I officially graduated and now I'm an unemployed nobody yaayy. So about this story...I'm not quite satisfied with my writing in it and I don't expect much from this, I just needed to write it because it kind of helped me through tough times. And I just realized writing angst helps me get through my anxiety lmao. Oh and just to add, I have no idea about psychology I kind of improvised the whole process so sorry if it’s not how it is going.

So buckle up ig, I wanted to make this very angsty but ended up making it rather fluffy lmao, so enjoy! Okay byee! (divider)

(p.s. This song inspired the title and it perfectly describes Hongjoong's feelings, I recommend listening to it hehet.)

Human's minds are pure chaos. Within each person lies a world as complex as our physical reality. There exists pure happiness alongside deep darkness that can both consume and strengthen. It's hard to escape the maze of rusty, huge walls that separates us from our sanity. Sometimes people desperately need a guiding hand that belongs to a person and runs along the dark maze, pulling them out of the dark labyrinth of thoughts that slowly destroy them.

I was a helping hand in hundreds of people's lives. People came to me shouting for help desperately or sometimes they were too stubborn to ask for help so I needed to convince them first to trust me, so they could let me lead them out of the dark.

I was a clinical psychologist, I fixed people's minds. It is a hard task, everyone has their unique story, and their own problems that can drive people crazy. And I needed to prevent that. All the process looked like a brain surgery, it just didn't need steel tools and extravagant knowledge of the different kinds of nerves and muscles. I couldn't just cut out people's brains like the doctors and fix things like that. A brain surgery could take up to 7 hours, but if I needed to save someone from the dark, dirty maze...that is impossible for them and for me to help in that short of time. It needed years. Years of trying to show the way out into the light that sometimes comes with the biggest hardships. To put together the lost pieces so they can be their old selves. But the thing is, they could never be their old selves again, just little pieces of it. Sometimes they can overcome it alone, sometimes they accept my helping hand and sometimes...they don't make it out of the dark ever. Those are the hardest journeys of my bumpy road.

I always felt like my life's purpose was to help people overcome their fears. I liked to dive deep into people's minds and play with the strings of their nerves, to find out their deepest, darkest secrets that they only told me. All the time someone confessed their feelings, when they opened up to me, I felt like a Goddess to whom people whispered their biggest sins. It was like they told me their Sea of Confession.

And why did I like it? Hearing people's dark thoughts made my mind concentrate on their problems, so I could run away from my own problems, from my own dark thoughts that hunted me in my nightmares, until my mind was tired enough so it could finally go blind.

I could fix people, but who fixed me?

I was in a hurry as I sipped from my morning coffee next to a quick breakfast that I made in a hurry because of course I overslept and now I was late for work. As I was sitting in my small one-room flat, I drank the last drops of coffee from my mug, quickly grabbed my keys, and turned off the TV that was a white noise on my chaotic morning.

Before I turned the TV off, I saw that the news was about some 26-year-old professional tennis player who got into a scandal, that was speeding through the highway drunk and nearly causing an accident. I heard about this player a few times on the news, he was always in some kind of trouble, like being drunk during an interview or shouting at a reporter after he lost a game, these attitudes of his made his fame slowly fade through the years as people started to judge him, because of his behavior.

I saw a few of his interviews, where he just seemed as bored as a prisoner in a cell, he spoke with people like they were some kinds of slaves. Something was up with him, I knew it—I was a therapist—he had a reason because people don't go insane just because they want to. I was sure it was deeper than the effects of being a professional tennis player dealing with fame.

He fought with some demons just like all of us.

The news also said that they just took his driver's license and the problem was solved, just because he was an athlete and had money. Our world was very fair. I scoffed at that after I quickly turned off the TV and glanced one last time at the full-body mirror, checking if my white shirt was perfectly ironed, which I paired with a grey, tight skirt that barely reached my knees with black heels, I pulled on my grey blazer that fitted with my skirt and left my cozy flat to step out into the air full of the breeze of spring.

As soon as I parked my car I hurried straight to my office, my first client was already there waiting for me in front of my door that held my name 'Dr. Kwon Y/N'.

"Ah, sorry for being late, but the traffic was horrible, my apologies." I quickly took out my keys from my purse and opened the door.

"It's okay, I know it can be the worst." My client smiled at me, his blonde hair fluffy from the morning hours, black framed glasses sitting on his tall nose, his dimples showing from the curve of his lips. His name is Song Mingi and he has been going to therapy for over a year now, he experienced a horrible trauma and it takes time to get over it, step by step but he is going to fight his demons.

"C'mon in." I smiled at him genuinely.

I stepped into my office, which looked comforting, and full of warm colors, that being orange, brown, and all shades of red. I wanted to make this room look like a place where people who are coming to my office, feel safe, to feel that whatever they tell me, stays there. The walls were painted warm orange. The furniture was brown, in the middle of the room there was a brown armchair with some orange stripes and in front of that, there was a sofa with the same colors, where my clients could lay down or just sit comfortably. On my left side, there's a big window and on the ledge, there are some green indoor plants. My main purpose was to give them a place where they can feel comfortable.

I sat on my armchair as I waited for Mingi to get comfortable.

"So how are you feeling today, Mingi?" I crossed my legs and all my attention was on the man in front of me, trying to listen to his thoughts and feelings that confused him.

Noon went by quickly and I had a little break before my next client came, so I went to the nearby bakery to buy some fresh baked bread. As I was walking back to my office, finishing the bread I bought, I got a text from my assistant, saying my next client was already here so, I needed to hurry back. Today was not my day that is sure. I kind of started to speedwalk, and that turned into running. I just hated it when my clients needed to wait for me because that didn’t seem professional.

As soon as I stepped into the building trying to catch my breath because of the running. I spotted a man who leaned against the wall in a black hoodie the hood was over his head, where a few blonde strings of his hair fell onto his forehead and his hoodie was paired with ripped black jeans.

"Good afternoon, sorry for being late!" I approached the strange man; it was his first time being here.

He quickly snapped his head up and looked at me with a bored and quite sharp expression. "Finally, I've been waiting for ten minutes already." He sighed staring at me with deadly eyes.

It didn't surprise me when my clients offended me and made me the wrong person. It was common when people didn't want to say anything at all to me or to be everywhere but here. Throughout the years I learned how to handle these kinds of people.

As our eyes met, that was the moment when I recognized this man, pictures from all over the media and the news appeared in my mind of the professional tennis player Kim Hongjoong.

I bowed my head a little as a sign of my apology. "My apologies, come in!" I opened the door with that and went in, to sit down in my armchair. He followed me with a disgusted expression as he looked around the room, and plopped down to the sofa. He was laying on his back with his legs pulled up, shoes still on, hands interlaced over his stomach, and closed his eyes, with his hood still on. I analyzed every little movement of his because it told me hundreds of things about him. I knew he wouldn't talk to me much, so my job was to read his moves. It was the kind of situation where we won't talk a lot because he just doesn't want to be here, it could be even that someone forced him to come here, or he just opens up with difficulty.

I was a tolerant woman and I knew, I needed to make him trust me.

"My name is Dr. Kwon Y/N, nice to meet you. Kim Hongjoong, right?" I asked with a warm voice as I crossed my legs and opened his files on my laptop that was on my legs. As I quickly glanced through his file, I immediately understood the reasons behind his behavior.

"Yeah. Can you stay quiet, I want to sleep." He said with a low voice, his eyes still closed.

I was in plenty of situations like this, sometimes people don’t know what is respect towards the other. You just needed to make them respect you.

"Well, you are not here to sleep right now, Hongjoong." I just looked at him with a knowing smile, because the next thing was that he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me.

"Well, I don't want to talk." He turned his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"We don't have to talk about your problems or feelings, only if you want. But firstly, we are here to feel comfortable and to trust each other." I said, closing my laptop and leaning forward to place it on the small table that separated us.

Hongjoong just scoffed at that. "Yeah, right."

I leaned backward folding my arms. "What is your favorite color?"

He looked at me again with a confused expression. "Are you kidding me? Are we in kindergarten or what?"

"We have to start somewhere, aren't we?" I raised my eyebrows at him with a smile. I needed his attention and this was the best solution.

"It's black I guess." He said with a bored expression.

"Favorite animal?"

"Squirrel"

"Oh, that's an unusual one." I smiled. He just shrugged.

"Favorite place to go on a vacation?"

"I don't really have time for those things."

"But if you had time?"

He rolled his eyes. "Probably Greece."

"Greece is beautiful, I agree."

"Why did you choose tennis?" And here we are, the real-deal questions started now. I hoped he fell into my trap with the previous questions.

The question surprised him, but he just shrugged. "My dad showed it to me when I was younger and I immediately felt a connection with it." It was a short answer but told me a lot of things. Passion from childhood—noted.

"Something you like doing, other than tennis?"

"Nothing." I stood silent because I saw on his face he was thinking. "Probably driving. But I fucked that up too." His features changed to anger. It seemed like he was mad at himself. It was good. At least he knew something was up with him.

"You can get it back, it's not permanent," I said to him, trying to calm him with my soft voice.

"Well," he suddenly got up in a sitting pose and stared at me like it was my fault. "That was the only thing that could clear my head and I lost that too because I fucked up." He raised his voice, his expressions mirroring pure anger, that was pointed at me, but at the same time I knew he just couldn't face the mirror and to fully blame himself. At least he showed emotion, that was always a good sign, even if it were bad emotions.

"Sometimes people need to lose something that brings them joy, so they'll learn to live without it and find other things that bring them joy," I said seriously, looking deep into his eyes, trying to find a little light in them.

"Stop this bullshit, cliché speech. It's not true. When you lose something important to you, that will never come back." He was leaning over his knees with his elbows, his hands interlaced. He seemed vulnerable for a second, I saw a really broken part of him, that was going to be tough to put together, but there was no impossible task for me.

We weren't talking about driving I knew it; it was just easier to speak in metaphoric sentences.

"Yes, there are situations when that something won't ever come back, but that doesn't mean we have to destroy ourselves and live in self-pity for the rest of our lives." I just needed to stay calm and only beam positivity, even when people shouted at me, blaming me for everything.

"No, you don't understand." He stood up and buried his face into his hands in frustration. "I can't do this." He said and went to the door without looking at me.

"Thank you for coming today, Hongjoong! See you next time!" I told him quickly before he angrily slammed the door.

I sighed as the silence swallowed me. Being a therapist is one of the hardest jobs on earth. It is physically but especially mentally stressful and it can eat you alive if you let it. It not only affects your feelings, that you kind of have to close out every time you have a client, but you also have to transform into them and imagine yourself in their situations and their feelings. And these different types of feelings can really overwhelm you, it's cruel.

But in the end, when I see in people's eyes, after some sessions, that they changed and are trying to be better, it fulfills my heart, that is when I say, it is worth the ups and downs that come with it.

Hongjoong wasn't my first client to act like this; they were difficult to handle and required patience. However, I knew he would calm down one day, and we could have a sincere conversation.

That night I dreamt about a little boy's face, eyes full of passion, that looked so familiar but I still couldn't recognize it.

Hongjoong came back the next day and after. He was calmer than the first time. He slowly opened up to me, as we talked through the hours of the sessions, sometimes it went well, sometimes it was rather quiet, but we made progress.

"What does tennis mean to you?"

"It's my everything, that is what is left for me in this world. But I feel like it's slowly not enough to keep me here."

"Maybe you should try something new out."

"I'm only good at tennis, I tried to do sports like football, but I wasn't that passionate as for tennis."

"Do you want to give up on tennis?"

"I don't want to, but... I'm getting so bad at it because my feelings are eating me alive. I'm not the old unstoppable Kim Hongjoong who beat everyone who came his way."

"Fighting against your feelings won’t solve your problem. This is why you should speak about them."

"What if I don’t want to?"

"How does the media affect your feelings?"

"I don't give a fuck about the media, those are some fucked up people whose lives are so boring they need to bump their noses into other's life."

"It's a really good point of view, I agree they don't know the real reasons for people's actions, only what they see. But you can't say it never affected you."

He stood quiet for a second, thinking. "It affected me when they talked shit about my close ones."

"Do your friends support you?"

"Yes, I have only a few friends, but they support me in everything. Especially Wooyoung, who is like my brother."

I nodded. "Does Wooyoung live here?" Before he could say anything, I added. "Just if he's close enough so you can talk or hang out if needed."

"He lives in the city, we play football a lot of times together and hang out after for some drinks."

"Do you like to drink?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Replying to a question with a question. I see. You are learning from me." I smiled at him just to elevate the mood.

I saw a very little curve appear on his lips. We were heading in the right way.

"But back to my question. You know you did a lot of things while being drunk."

"Well, that is my only escape from this fucked-up world."

"But you know it affects other people as well, for example when you nearly caused an accident driving while being drunk."

"Do we really need to talk about this? I know I messed up, okay? You don’t have to shout at me for being stupid." His mood swings were like a child's—one moment he was cooperative, and the next he was angry for no apparent reason.

"Why did you become a therapist?" He asked, looking sincerely curious. It occurred a lot of times when my clients tried to ask things about my personal life and I only thought it was fair to reply to them but keep the boundaries in their place.

"It wasn't even my dream until 5 years now, the idea came suddenly and I realized I always liked to talk to people about feelings and give them advice," I said keeping eye contact with him as he was sitting in front of me.

"Did you always live here?" He asked, leaning back on the sofa.

"Yes." I smiled at him.

"Do you like it here?" I wasn't surprised by his questions, there was always a moment when people realized they didn't know anything about the person sitting in front of them, to whom they confessed their deepest feelings.

I looked out the window on my right and thought about the question. "I think, I do. Do you?"

"I hate it." He looked down at his hands when I turned my head back to look at him.

"Why?"

"Because a lot of shit things happened here."

"So why are you still here?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I have nowhere to go."

"Maybe, you could go to Greece." I smiled at him.

"Yeah, maybe." He lifted his head to look at me a visible smile appearing on his lips.

"The night they caught you drunk in your car, what did you feel before?" I brought back that case because we needed to talk about that so I could understand what went through his head that night.

"Anger, heartbroken?" To my surprise, he answered, without getting angry at me. Maybe it was one of those good days of his.

"So you thought drinking and speeding through the highway would solve them?"

"I didn't think anything at all. I just needed to clear my head and that seemed the best solution."

I nodded. "Do you regret doing it?"

"Of course, I do…"

"That is a good sign. Sometimes we consciously won't admit our mistakes. But you did Hongjoong and that is a very big progress."

It was a dark, rainy day, with clouds obscuring the sun's feeble attempts to warm the world after a freezing winter. I was at work, having already seen a few clients. Some sessions went smoothly, while others made me wish I could run to the ends of the earth.

And when Kim Hongjoong came in, it continued. We made a lot of progress throughout the weeks. It went well. But something happened again because when I saw Hongjoong I felt like it was like the first time he came in. No emotions, just the bored face, and the I-don't-give-a-fuck-attitude. It felt like we started everything from the beginning like we didn't even speak the past few weeks.

"What's on your mind?" I started, hoping I wouldn't play with the string of his nerves.

He sighed. "I don't want to talk today." He leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

I nodded. "Alright, we don't have to."

I just opened my laptop and started to reply my emails that I haven't had the time to reply to. But it was also a tactical move, I knew he would feel bothered because I didn’t pay attention to him.

I felt his gaze on me after a while. I looked up from my laptop, adjusting my glass as my eyes met with his. His expressions were confused rather than angry.

I lifted my eyebrows. "Yes?"

He looked away, seeming a little shy after being caught staring. "So, we won't talk?"

"You just said you don't want to talk."

"I know but it's strange sitting here and not talking."

"We can talk."

He just nodded, his lips forming a thin line. He was dressed in all black again—black jeans and a black T-shirt, along with a black cap that hid his eyes. With his tattoo ‘No1likeme’ on the inside of his upper arm peeking out.

I observed that when he was in higher spirits, he tended to wear brighter colors such as orange and beige. Conversely, when he dressed in all black, it signaled that he might not be feeling his best.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked with my full attention on him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. What's your favorite color?" He looked genuinely interested, his eyes slightly hidden beneath his cap, making his gaze darker.

"Look around and try to figure it out." I smiled at him.

He slowly lifted his head and hummed his eyes scanning the whole room, taking it in, analyzing. I was watching him the whole time, his sharp jawline and characteristic nose on the sight.

"Is it orange?" He asked, his attention back on me.

I chuckled. "It is, it wasn’t impossible to guess."

He smiled at that too. Whenever he smiled, it was like witnessing the world's eighth wonder—a unique and rare occurrence that could rival any God’s smile.

"What is one word you don't like?" I asked.

"Love. It's just so overrated." Again, his expression changed as he was staring down at his hands thinking.

"Don't you love someone?"

"It's not that I don't love. It's just…" He adjusted himself on the sofa straightening up a little. "It's just doesn't embrace truthfully how I feel."

"How would you express it then?"

He paused, carefully choosing his words. "I treasure the people I feel close to. Everything they give me, whether it's gestures or words, they're little treasures that I keep deep in my heart, like in a small chest. And from that chest, I give to others. It might sound silly, but that's just how I feel." His voice sounded uncertain as if this were the most vulnerable moment of his life.

My heart started racing, and I began to feel what he felt, causing my heart to ache.

"It is a very unique and beautiful way to think of love, it’s not stupid at all," I said understandingly.

"But sometimes no matter how much you treasure the people you love, life takes them away anyway." He slowly stood up and walked to the window as his voice came out unsure.

I stood quiet because I knew he wanted to keep going. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair. "What did I do to deserve this?" The fingers in his hair grabbed his hair and pulled it as I saw his back only. "I fucked up." He raised his voice.

I stood up but refrained from approaching him, knowing he could explode at any moment.

"What happened Hongjoong?" I asked with a calm voice.

"I couldn't say goodbye to her." His voice sounded weak like he was crying.

"To whom?" Tears appeared in my eyes as well, this was the most difficult topic of my life I could never speak easier about this even if it was the hundredth time.

"My little sister." He whispered his shoulders moving up and down as he was breathing heavier. "I couldn't keep her safe." He yelled and in a fit of rage, he swept the plants off the windowsill, sending them crashing to the floor. The pots shattered, and soil scattered across the room.

I trembled from the sudden sounds of the shattered pots my heart pounding in fear. I saw a lot of situations throughout my career, but this—never.

"I couldn't keep her safe and now she is gone." He calmed down a little as his knees got weak and he fell on the ground his face in his palms.

My breathing grew heavier. There were strict boundaries between therapists and clients—any personal connection was strictly prohibited. But... how could I stand by while he was broken on the floor with shattered pots and dirty soil around him?

I approached him slowly and knelt beside him, extending my hand toward him as he stared down at his hands, lost in his own thoughts. I hesitated, afraid to touch him, but I knew I had to take the risk. When my hand gently landed on his shoulder, he lifted his head to look at me with wide eyes.

"It's okay it's not your fault, Hongjoong. Life can be cruel and make us believe it is our fault but sometimes we can't do anything to stop what was already written." I carefully lifted my hand towards his face to wipe his tears. As soon as I realized what was I doing I quickly withdrew my hands. But before I could do that, he grabbed my wrist and held it against his face staring into my wide eyes.

"Can you hug me?" He asked with an unsure voice.

"Y-yes." My heart wanted to jump out of my chest because I knew I couldn't do such things, I couldn't bond with my clients emotionally, but it was just too late because we had so much in common with Hongjoong it was impossible not to.

I slowly wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close. The scent of sweet caramel filled my nostrils, instantly calming me and prompting me to draw him even closer. His hands encircled my waist, gently lifting me as I settled into his lap. And I let him do it without a word, my only intent was to bring him comfort.

"How could I forgive myself?" He whispered into the crook of my neck, wetting it with his tears.

"Time will make you believe it wasn't your fault, trust me. Time heals everything." My hands unconsciously started to caress his back when he nuzzled his nose into my neck.

"I couldn't say her goodbye." He whispered weakly.

Tears welled up in my eyes as memories of my own began to flood my mind. Memories that I dig deep down so I won't ever have to remember. A little boy's face I saw every night in my dreams. A little boy's face, that slowly faded away.

"She's watching you from above," I whispered weekly.

And then someone shut the door outside and reality hit me suddenly making me jump out of Hongjoong's lap.

"My next client is here. You should go. Thank you for coming," I said, avoiding his eyes, and realizing the line I had crossed. I walked over to another door where supplies were kept, kneeling to begin cleaning up the mess he had made.

"Let me help you, please. I'm so sorry, Y/N!" I closed my eyes, hearing my name. He kneeled next to me to gather the shattered pieces but I didn’t let him.

"You don't have to help me. My next client is here, so please leave," I stated flatly, glancing at him without showing any emotion. He stared at me wide-eyed, as if unable to believe what I was saying. Then, he dropped the pieces he was holding, stood up abruptly, and left the room, slamming the door behind him. I trembled at the sound, and tears began to stream down my face uncontrollably. But I couldn't allow myself to break down here when others needed my help. I wiped away my tears, took a deep breath to compose myself, and began cleaning up the mess.

To my next client, I appeared as an always smiling and understanding woman, offering advice that could save their life. But who would save mine?

After that day, I thought I would never hear from Hongjoong again. Perhaps he felt he had opened up to me only to have his feelings disregarded. I respected his emotions, but they overwhelmed me, and I was hesitant to deepen our connection. It didn't seem fair. Yet, he returned and acted as if nothing had happened on that dark, rainy day. We resumed our therapist-client relationship, asking each other questions as if he hadn't cried on my shoulder just a few days earlier.

It was a Friday evening when my last client left, it was late in the afternoon the sun was slowly disappearing, switching places with the moon. I locked the door of my office and left the building to sit in my car.

When I shut the door, sudden emotions hit me like a train that had no breaks. I needed to grab the steering wheel. All day I needed to put on a mask and smile for the people who needed reassurance and tell them only positive things that made them feel better.

I needed to keep my emotions in, which flooded like water crushing into a dam's cement walls. I needed to keep them back and just make that wall thicker, and stronger so it won't break. But there were already some thin cracks on it.

I breathed in and out slowly. This day was the worst of the year in five years. Today five years ago I lost my little brother in a bus accident that was a fault of a man driving drunk. And that school bus was just there at the wrong time, taking the lives of many little kids who were the most innocent human beings on earth. I broke that day, just like my parents, who still did not process what happened. Life was unfair and I blamed God, destiny, and everything I could just so it could be better. But it didn't, it happened and I just couldn't do anything at all. My little brother was the sweetest thing in this cruel world. He was only 7 years old, but he was so smart and kindhearted compared to his age. He simply did not deserve this fate, just like the other kids who died that day. Since that day, I see his face in my dreams which are sometimes nightmares, as the accident is playing in my head, even though I wasn't even there when it happened. But his face slowly disappears in my dreams, it's starting to get blurry and I was terrified on the fact, slowly I won't even remember his face.

Psychology was the thing that saved me from burying myself in the dark. Studying distracted me and after I finished college, I settled for a job that was being a therapist and hearing other people's problems and dark thoughts—which sometimes scared me to death—but after working in this field for 5 years now, I realized this is just people—people who only need help, a helping hand that guides them towards the light. In the process of guiding them, I slowly helped myself out alongside them, their thoughts and problems being the priority of my life, distracting me from my real problems.

But on that day, I couldn't hold it back any longer. After gathering myself, I drove to the cemetery with a bucket of flowers in hand. The cemetery appeared dark, reminiscent of scenes from horror movies, with only a few faint lights illuminating the path ahead. I knew the way to my little brother's grave as well as I knew the back of my own hand. The weather was chilly, and I hugged myself tightly for warmth, clutching the bucket of white lilies.

When I reached my little brother's grave, I couldn't contain my emotions any longer. Everything I had been holding back broke through like a dam bursting, and I fell to my knees, crying uncontrollably.

"I miss you my little bud." My tears wetted my cheeks, the moon above illuminating my brother’s grave as I whispered into the quiet. My sobbing echoed through the dark and quiet cemetery. I had never truly had friends who could be there as shoulders to cry on. It's one of the reasons being a therapist is challenging. Friends often come to see you as the sole stable point in their lives, where they can vent about their struggles and expect reassurance and advice without offering much in return. The problem was they only saw me as their therapist-friend. Over time, I grew accustomed to it and began to cut ties with those who were only friends with me for this reason.

I was still kneeling on the dirty ground, miles away from the real world as I just stared at my little brother's grave that said 'Rest in peace forever, our brightest star'.

"Y/N?" I heard a voice that seemed strange but a voice I felt like I had known my whole life.

I glanced to my left and saw a man standing there in dark clothes with a hood on. Blonde strands of hair partially hiding his eyes.

"Hongjoong?" My voice came out weak, almost like a whisper. I quickly wiped my tears away, it was a habit of mine, where no one could see me in any vulnerable state.

"What are you doing here at this hour? You'll get cold." He stepped closer with a confused expression.

"I—I just… visited my little brother." I couldn't take my eyes off him as he slowly kneeled next to me, the universe now turning as the other time it was me kneeling next to a broken Hongjoong. He looked at me with a broken expression and slowly reached his hand to wipe my tears away.

"I'm so sorry for your loss." He whispered, cupping my face into his hands. "It could have been difficult when I spoke about my sister. You are so strong, Y/N." His voice was filled with concern, his eyes watering as I broke again and started to cry again. For myself, but for Hongjoong’s loss as well.

"Come here," he said, pulling my head closer to his neck so I could breathe in his sweet caramel scent, which enveloped us both. "It's okay, let it all out. You deserve to." He gently stroked my hair, then slowly slid his hands behind my thighs and lifted me onto his lap. I settled onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face into the crook of his neck. Throughout, he continued to caress my back and hair, whispering reassuring words that melted my heart. Gradually, his calming caramel scent helped me feel better.

"Let's get out of here, you are shivering." He said putting distance between us to look into my eyes, I just nodded, as he slowly took off his black hoodie, and despite my resistance, he helped me wear it. It made me look small, its sleeves hiding my hands, but it was so warm it made me forget how cold I had felt. He slowly lifted me off his lap and helped me up like I was a porcelain.

"And what are you doing here at this hour?" I asked looking up at him as he held my waist.

"Visited my sister." He gave me an understanding smile.

"Oh, they are in the same cemetery? Then they have company at least." I smiled, imagining his sister and my brother playing around, even though I never saw her.

"Yeah, I am sure they are having fun." He smiled genuinely. "Did you come by car?" He asked as we started to walk towards the exit in the dark and terrifying cemetery, while he was still holding me by my waist, scared I might fall at any moment.

"Ah, yes," I replied, trying to ground myself back in reality. I hated when people saw my vulnerable side and perceived me as fragile as glass.

"Let me drive you home, I won't let you drive in this state." He said looking at me with concerned eyes.

"I'm okay, I can drive. And you don't even have a driver's license Hongjoong." I looked at him and frowned.

"I don't care I won't let you go home alone." He seemed determined and I was too tired to fight against him.

So I let him drive my car, to where I lived even though he had no available license, but he didn't seem to care about that so neither did I. We managed to arrive at my place without the police handcuffing Hongjoong on top of my car and I felt relieved at that.

"Thank you," I looked at him grabbing the handle. I was tired and I just wanted to get a warm shower and collapse into my bed. "You can take yourself home I'll get my car tomorrow." I chuckled as I said to him.

Hongjoong chuckled at that too. "Now you are not scared I'll get arrested?" He smiled sweetly which warmed my cold heart.

"Sounds like a you problem. If you get arrested, I'll just say you stole my car." I lifted my hands with a teasing smile.

"Hah, of course you would," he remarked, reaching his hand quickly to pinch my cheek. "Okay, but only if I can take you somewhere tomorrow," he added, leaning back in the driver's seat.

I looked at him confused. "You know we can't do that."

"Why?" He asked mirroring my expression.

"Because you are my client?" I asked my brows furrowing further.

"And you think I give a shit about that?" He leaned closer to my face as he whispered it.

"But then I won't be able to hold your sessions anymore," I tried to say, attempting to create some distance, but finding myself frozen in place, the words nearly escaping me.

"I don't care, I just want to be with you." He said leaning even closer, our warm breaths melting together.

"You barely know me," I stated.

"I'm going to change that." He whispered onto my lips and then leaned back looking at my slightly blushed face satisfied.

"I'll text you, sleep well!" He said with a confident smile, winking at me.

"How do you know my number?" I asked him frowning.

"Dear, you are my therapist." He said with a shit-eating grin.

"Well, not anymore," I replied, rolling my eyes with a smile that I couldn't suppress. I stepped out of my car, only to watch it roll away. A sincere smile spread across my face as I saw him drive off.

Might Kim Hongjoong be the person who saves me?

The next day, Hongjoong texted me that he would pick me up at 6 p.m. and told me to wear comfortable clothes. Unsure of what he meant exactly, I opted for sweatpants, a white crop top, and white sneakers. I also brought along my black sweatshirt, as the weather was still cool in the middle of spring.

When I stepped out of my apartment and went down to wait for Hongjoong, I looked up at the sky and it was slightly cloudy, it might rain in the evening and before I could run back to get an umbrella Hongjoong was rolling near the sidewalk so I could jump in.

"Hello there." He smiled at me sweetly taking me in with his gaze.

"Hi," I said, nearly blushing under his sharp gaze. I quickly glanced at him and noticed he was wearing black shorts that reached his knees paired with a white T-shirt. We were unintentionally matching.

"Okay soo," He looked at me unbuckling his seatbelt. "I think you should drive because I don't want to risk it anymore." He chuckled a little embarrassed.

I chuckled at that too. "As you shouldn't, I told you." I opened the passenger seat's door to switch places. When we met at the front of the car, he pinched my waist and quickly sat in the passenger seat smiling.

"Buckle up Mr. Kim, if you want to survive," I said with a teasing voice buckling my seatbelt.

"Yes, my lady!" He saluted as I laughed loudly.

I started to drive as Hongjoong told me the directions where we were going because I had no idea where we were going and he didn't want to tell me so I just drove where he said.

In the meantime, we carpooled a bit, because it's a must, and we both love shouting along to music. I put on Beach Weather's "Chit Chat," and we belted out the lyrics together.

"So come on, get your fix now, now, now"

"You drive me crazy with that"

"Chit chat do you want that"

"Or wanna take me home tonight?"

"I thought I told you, I really need you sugar"

"I'm going supernova"

When we arrived at a parking lot, I looked around, trying to figure out where we were. My jaw dropped when I realized.

"Are we going to play tennis?" I looked at him wide-eyed.

He chuckled sweetly. "Yes, if it's okay with you. Do you know how to play it?" His smile never left his lips and I loved it.

"Hmm, let me think…" I looked straight as we were still in the car. "I actually hate tennis." I side glanced at him waiting for his reaction.

He gasped forming an 'o' with his mouth. "Really? How dare you Kwon Y/N?" He seemed like he couldn't believe what I said, but this was the truth, tennis just seemed boring looking at it on the TV.

"Maybe, but just maybe you could change that." I smiled at him as I opened the door and got out of the car.

He got out as well and went to the back of the car to get his equipment and there was also a basket which I assumed was for a picnic.

"Ahw, is that a picnic basket?" I looked at him leaning against my car.

He closed the rear door with the basket and the equipment in hand and he slowly approached me hovering over me.

"Is there any problem with it?" he whispered; his lips so close to mine that I could feel his warm breath. His caramel scent enveloped me, making my knees weak.

"Not at all, it’s sweet," I whispered eyeing between his eyes and lips as I bit my lips. He looked so hot like this; I didn't know if I could keep it up anymore.

"Then let me teach you how to play tennis," he said, leaning close to my ear as he nuzzled into my neck. "God, I love how you smell," he whispered. At that moment, I needed air, feeling like I might faint. It felt like being a teenager again when my first crush approached me, leaving me uncertain if this was good or not.

I would've never thought I was going a date—I guess it was a date—with the professional tennis player Kim Hongjoong, who always seemed like an asshole in the videos I saw of him, and my first impression as a therapist wasn't also the best of him, but the truth is, he is just a lost man in the middle of his twenties who had none left in this world only tennis was the only thing that kept him going, that slowly slipped through his hands as well. But I really hoped he was going to find his way back to the passion that kept him going and I am going to help him find the way back to the light not because this was my job, but because in this short time, I started to care for him, not like I cared for my other clients, it was deeper and something invisible connected us that I couldn't name.

The tennis court was empty, illuminated by streetlights, with Hongjoong heading to the entrance to switch on the five floodlights. The court glowed green and a light shade of orange, divided by a net in the middle. I stepped onto the field, looking around in awe, as I had never been on a tennis court before. To our right were the seats where the crowd would cheer for the players. I was certain that one day I would be sitting there, cheering for Hongjoong with all my heart if everything went the right way.

"So," Hongjoong broke the silence. "Do you like it?" I turned as I saw his sweet smile.

"It's okay, I guess," I teased with a smile. I noticed he had already started unpacking the things he brought from the basket, laying a blanket near the net. He looked so sweet like this.

"I didn't know you were the romantic type," I said slowly approaching him, kneeling next to him to help him unpack all the food and sweets he brought.

"Well, it depends on the person." He side-glanced at me as he sat down on the blanket.

"Oh, should I feel special?" I sat down next to him, our shoulders slightly touching as I looked at him with serious eyes.

He looked back at me, tilting his head to the side and giving me a sharp glance. At that moment, I realized how close he was. His blonde hair perfectly highlighted his sharp eyes, and his cheekbones had a slight pink tint. My heart started to race, my body felt hotter than ever, and he hadn't even kissed me. I wondered if I could survive a kiss from him. I glanced at his thin lips, curved slightly in a smile. Up close, his face looked even more chiseled. He was so handsome that I finally understood why he was a famous tennis player. It wasn't just his skills; it was also how incredibly good-looking he was.

"Will we eat sometime or you will stare more?" Hongjoong's voice brought me back from my inner thoughts and as I realized I was staring the whole time I felt as my face got a little warm.

"Don't get over yourself, you did the same." I chuckled as I looked at the food and picked up a sandwich with ham and salad.

"How could I have not stared?" His voice came out low as he picked some green grapes and threw them into his mouth.

"Oh, shut up," I said, playfully bumping him with my shoulder as he chuckled.

"Make me." He leaned closer and smiled at me teasingly.

I laughed at that. "Does this work on other girls too?" I asked, hiding my mouth behind my hands as I tried to swallow the sandwich, nearly choking in the process.

He shrugged. "Don't know, haven't tried it."

"So, the bad guy image you created, isn't true?" I said looking at him suspiciously, finishing my sandwich.

"The media created that image, not me." He looked ahead as he supported himself on his hands behind his back, his legs straight.

"It must be hard, like…" I glanced at his side profile. "They follow every step of yours and they are waiting for you when are you going to make a mistake."

"It was hard at the beginning, there weren't anyone beside me, I was all alone…" He leaned forward and pulled his legs up his elbows on his knees. "But I got used to it with time and didn't give a shit about them."

I did the same, pulling my knees to my chest and hugging them. "Your parents…what happened with them?" I looked at him with soft eyes. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay."

"No, no, I want to. It was a long time ago…" He glanced at me briefly before looking down at his hands in front of him.

"They both died in a car accident when I was only 16. Just before the accident, I had started playing tennis. My dad encouraged me to play, and I couldn’t be more grateful for introducing me to this sport. After the accident, my sister and I were sent to an orphanage." His voice faltered slightly. I reached my hand toward his back and gently caressed it. "They even separated us because of the age gap. She was only 5 back then. We didn't have any relatives who could adopt us. So, I waited two years until I could take Byeol with me."

"It must have been difficult, you were only 18 and taking care of her and yourself at that age…" I looked at him as tears welled up in my eyes. This man went through hell and he was still here smiling.

"Yeah, well, she died too, in another accident... How is any of this fair, Y/N?" He rested his head on my shoulder, and I gently brushed my fingers through his hair.

"It's not fair at all. Nothing is fair. But we just can't do anything, we have to keep moving for them right?" I traced my hands from his hair to his cheeks, to his jaw to pull him up so I could look into his eyes.

"Right?" I asked him again caressing his cheeks.

"Right." He smiled genuinely at me.

He sighed and stood up. "Okay, enough of the sad moments. Let me teach you some real tennis," he said, offering his right hand to help me up. I accepted it, and he pulled me to my feet.

"So, this is your side and the other is mine." He pointed at the other side of the field and went to grab the rackets and the tennis ball.

"What if we play a game?" I asked, observing his reaction.

"What game?" he asked curiously.

"We ask each other questions every time we pass the ball," I suggested.

He looked excited and agreed, saying, "I'm in."

With that, he handed me one of the rackets. "You have to hold the racket like this," he began, explaining the main rules of tennis quickly and enthusiastically. The way he explained it, I almost felt like starting a tennis career (though I won't).

We started passing the ball to each other, and at first, I wasn't very good at it. But with practice, I improved, and soon we could pass the ball to each other at least five times without it going out or accidentally hitting Hongjoong. We were making progress.

As we played, we asked each other questions, gradually getting to know each other better. I had so much fun the whole time; I couldn't remember the last time I laughed this much. In recent years, my life hadn't been filled with happiness and laughter. It was all about work and making my clients happy.

It was never about me, but I realized I couldn’t have a life were I just serve people, trying to fix them, my happiness was also important and Hongjoong made me realize this, even though he was the same—his worldview was similar to mine. We always saw our little siblings in the back of our minds, even though they would've wanted us to be happy, but we were too stuck in self-pity and how life was unfair, we didn't notice how much we destroyed ourselves. So, we just need to put it behind us, they are always going to live in our hearts, no matter what. We are going to live for them.

As we passed the ball to each other and jogged in place, I started feeling like I might collapse. I wasn't the fittest person on earth, and after half an hour of playing, I was tired. We were so engrossed in the game that we didn't even notice the dark clouds gathering above us. It wasn't until a sudden rainstorm caught us off-guard that we realized, standing there soaked in the middle of the field, looking at each other and laughing.

Instead of caring about the rain, we continued playing. But then I cheated by not hitting the ball back properly, and Hongjoong jumped over the net that separated us, chasing after me. I screamed like a 12-year-old, our inner children coming to life as we ran, our sibling-like spirits taking over. But I didn't stand a chance—he caught my waist from behind and twirled me around. I laughed so hard from the surprise and joy that I couldn't stop.

"Got you!" He chuckled, as he took me down and hugged me from behind as we both were soaked the rain still pouring.

Then he slowly turned me around to face him. He was smiling so sweetly, his wet blonde hair glued to his forehead just as my hair. He reached his hand towards my face to brush off a string of wet hair behind my ear. His fingers tracing down from my ear to my neck, then to my jaw up to my lips where waterdrops dropped down to my already soaked top. He traced my bottom lips gently wiping the drops away. Our expressions turned serious, every goofiness leaving our soul as we both stared at the other taking in the other as the rain made us more beautiful. He looked so breathtaking with the passion burning in his eyes, his lips parted and the waterdrops that were on his lips made him more attractive. As his hands cupped both sides of my jaw, he slowly started to close the distance between us.

"I wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you." He whispered onto my lips, his eyes never leaving mine.

"It didn't seem like that." I teased him with a slight smile.

"I'm sorry…" He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Just shut up and kiss me!" I said to him seriously.

He chuckled and finally closed the distance not even thinking a second, his lips crushed into mine like it was destined to each other. Our lips moved in synchrony as I could taste the rain that still soaked us with its full power, but I couldn't mind, because at that moment I didn't feel anything except Hongjoong's lips on mine, that tasted like sweet caramels mixed with the taste of rain. It felt like I was in paradise, as his hands moved from my jaw down my spine to my waist, he grabbed it and pulled me impossibly closer to him, our bodies melting together, closing the rain out. It felt like a relief, kissing him like my soul finally found its peace. When one of Hongjoong's hands dug into my hair at my nape, I unconsciously parted my lips and his tongue immediately found its way into my mouth as I wrapped my hands around his neck deepening the kiss. I felt like I might faint between his arms, as I had no oxygen left and he just simply made me feel weak like I could slip through his hands easily. But his arms held me strongly like a pillar and made me feel safe.

When we separated, he leaned his forehead against mine, out of breath and soaked till bone he leaned again towards my lips and gave little pecks onto my wet lips like he couldn't get enough of me.

"Let's go, we are going to catch a cold even though it might be too late." I smiled up at him, my hands still around his neck.

"Can I take you to my house?" He asked with a sweet smile his voice barely hearable because of the rain as his hands were still on my waist holding me close to his body. "Well technically you are going to take us to my house but you know." He chuckled.

"Yeah, let's go," I said, pulling away from him, still feeling the effects of the kiss that had made my legs weak. It was strange kissing Hongjoong, yet at the same time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I never imagined someone could make me smile the way he did that day.

Since my little brother passed away, I often felt undeserving of happiness. But today, this realization hit me hard. He would have wanted me to be happy, not to dwell in self-destruction. I tried to be happy, but I never felt truly happy, and I wasn't sure if that was even possible. However, right now, with Hongjoong by my side, I felt like I was on the path towards happiness.

When we arrived at Hongjoong's house, I was utterly fascinated. I already knew he was wealthy, being a professional athlete, but the house I saw surpassed all expectations—truly, I'm not exaggerating. It was colossal, almost like a modern castle. The exterior boasted white walls with expansive windows, sharp architectural features, and a garden adorned with delicate garden lamps. I even caught sight of a pool in the back.

Parking the car in the garage, we entered through a door that led directly into the living room—a space that was larger than my entire apartment. The main colors were black and white, with touches of brown. In the center of the room sat a black couch flanked by armchairs on each side. Opposite the sofa was a massive TV that seemed bigger than me. The walls were adorned with Renaissance paintings of various landscapes, which I admired until Hongjoong brought me some clothes, urging me to shower and change out of my soaked attire that clung uncomfortably to my skin. I hesitated to sit on the luxurious-looking couch, opting instead to explore the expansive space.

Moving slowly towards the fireplace—because of course, there was one—I observed the framed pictures displayed there. I guessed correctly that the photos were of Hongjoong with his little sister, and a picture of his parents when they were younger. Nearby were trophies he had won, along with a photo of a younger Hongjoong on a tennis field, beaming proudly while clutching a trophy larger than himself. His smile in that photo was so joyful and proud it touched my heart deeply. At that moment, I resolved to bring back that carefree Hongjoong—the one who only cared about winning games and making his little sister and parents proud. I wanted to see him smile like that again.

And when my eyes narrowed further it stuck on a framed picture that felt both familiar and strange at the same time. I had this picture at my home, framed but this picture was in Hongjoong’s house. My heart began to race, and I felt light-headed. The picture showed kids smiling happily to the camera with so much happiness, radiating pure joy. But I couldn't smile, because my little brother stared back at me from that picture.

"Here are some clothes that may fit you, I hope they are okay." I heard Hongjoong's voice behind me, but it seemed so far away I could barely hear what he said. I felt like suddenly I couldn't breathe, my lungs were full of air but I couldn't get myself to breathe it out. It stuck, just as my world stopped, at that moment and I couldn't believe what I saw.

Then I suddenly felt hands on my shoulders that brought me back to Hongjoong's living room, as I was still staring at the framed picture.

"Hey, are you okay?" I heard Hongjoong's worried voice on my left, as he was still holding me, turning me to face him, by my shoulders.

I slowly tilted my head up to meet his gaze, and I didn't even notice tears were falling down my cheeks, Hongjoong's concerned eyes met mine, filled with worry and uncertainty.

"Did something happen Y/N?" He reached his hand towards my cheeks to wipe my tears away.

I could finally breathe out the air that was stuck in my lungs and slowly reached my hands towards the picture bringing it between us. "I-is…w-was this your sister's class?" My voice came out unsure and weak as I felt I couldn't breathe again.

Hongjoong slowly took the picture from my hand, his expression softening into a slight smile. "Yes, she's in the middle. They took this on the day of the accident," he said quietly, pointing at his little sister in the photograph. His smile carried a tinge of sadness.

That was when I couldn't hold back anymore. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Hongjoong looked at me with wide eyes, clearly bewildered by my sudden outburst. But as I gazed at the picture again, I realized something shocking—next to his little sister was a smiling boy who was unmistakably my brother. They were holding hands. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be that we both lost our siblings in the same accident and that they were friends, perhaps even best friends.

I buried my hands in my face as tears streamed down, my legs giving way beneath me. Before I could collapse completely, Hongjoong caught me and held me in his arms. I felt hollow, like an empty box that once held cherished memories but was now vacant. We both ended up on the floor, with Hongjoong holding me close, whispering comforting words and gently stroking my back and hair as I sobbed into his neck.

After a while, I began to feel a bit calmer. I realized it was best to explain to Hongjoong why I was crying before he thought I was irrational.

My hands reached towards the framed picture on the floor and my fingers traced through the middle where our siblings were holding hands. "This is my brother next to your sister. They are holding hands." I pointed at my brother on the picture whispering it in a weak voice.

Silence hung heavy between us, and when I didn't hear a response, I lifted my gaze to find Hongjoong's head tilted toward the picture in between us. He was staring at our siblings captured in that moment. Gently, I reached out and touched his jaw, turning his face towards mine. His eyes glistened with tears that rolled down his cheeks, each one precious as it traced a path across his face. With my thumb, I wiped away the tears and then embraced him tightly, climbing onto his lap. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him, offering comfort and solace in our shared grief.

"At least they are together up above," I whispered into his ears as tears fell from my eyes again. It was me now, who tried to comfort him, as he did before without any word. I caressed his back then my fingers brushed through his blonde hair from his nape his hair was still a little wet. I put a little distance between us and leaned my forehead against his. "Are you okay?" I whispered it close to his lips.

"At least they are together." He repeated my words. "And we are here for each other too." His hands found their way up to my jaw and cupped it as the barely lit living room lights illuminated his face.

"We are," I whispered as I smiled at him slightly.

Then he pulled me closer to his lips as he cupped my face and I immediately felt at ease as his lips sealed against mine with passion I never felt in my life. Caramel scent embraces us with warmth, our soaked clothes are long forgotten. His lips moved against mine with a burning desire that whispered a promise between us to be there for each other forever.

The next thing I know is me being pushed against the wet wall of the bathroom, the water falling on us from the shower head above us, Hongjoong's lips on mine, our saliva mixing with the water, our hands interlaced above my head as we kissed each other with fire even the water falling on us couldn't stop the burning desire we felt for each other as his lips found their way down my neck, sucking on it, leaving little love marks here and there, as quiet moans escaped my mouth. The bathroom's walls echo the sounds our mouths made. As he whispered words into my ear that promised us a bright future together as we united our faith.

Two souls destined to meet, to heal from the sorrow their siblings' deaths left in their lives. Two souls that were destined to each other so they could find their way back to life, that is full of vibrant colors again, together.

A/N: Soo, that happened, lol. I just wanted to tell you I might write a part 2 for this story, only if I feel it tbh, because it is really just the beginning of their story. I have already some ideas of how I could continue it because let's think about it. Hongjoong is famous and lives in the media, and the paparazzi always find out everything so how would the media affect their relationship?

(Ateez masterlist)

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cece693 · 2 months ago

Text

Brooding Edward (Edward Cullen x M! Vampire Reader)

I got a comment some time ago asking for more Edward Cullen fics, so I came to deliver :) Hope you guys enjoy it.

Summary: You don't know when your dislike of Edward turned into adoration, but you did know that you didn't like how close he was getting with the human, Isabella Swan.

tags: scheming Edward, jealous reader, hater to lover, making out, Bella used as a pawn in Edward's plan, mentions of Bella x Edward

Forks was a dreary town, always dripping with rain and cloaked in mist, a far cry from the places I’d roamed over the centuries. I’d arrived here on a whim, seeking nothing more than a quiet place to blend in, disappear among the mundane, and watch as the world turned on without me. But I wasn’t completely alone here. There were others of my kind, tucked away in the dense forests.

The first time I laid eyes on Edward Cullen, I knew immediately what he was—beautiful, yes, but also cold and distant, a façade of perfection wrapped around a soul that seemed perpetually weighed down. We didn’t speak much at first, just acknowledged each other as predators passing in the same territory.

But the more I saw him, the more I realized how irritatingly complex he was.

He wasn’t like the others—his siblings, his parents—who seemed content with the life they had carved out here, blending in with humans, attending school like everything was perfectly normal. Edward. had this air of constant torment, like he was wrestling with demons none of us could see. It grated on me. The self-imposed suffering. The way he would sit in class, staring out the window like the weight of existence itself was crushing him.

I couldn’t stand it.

“Edward’s always been like that.” Alice once told me when I asked why her brother seemed more brooding than the rest of them. She smiled, almost fondly, as if his moodiness was something endearing, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“You mean miserable?”

“He’s complicated.” she explained, and for some reason, that word irritated me even more.

Complicated. Right.

The more I was around him, the more I was drawn to observe his every movement, his every interaction. And it only made my disdain grow. Edward had this way of pulling people in without even trying—his impossibly good looks, the air of mystery that seemed to cling to him like fog, his quiet intelligence. Everyone wanted to know him, to understand him. But he kept everyone at arm’s length.

He was a contradiction—mysterious yet aloof, compassionate yet disconnected. And I couldn’t stop watching him.

It became a sick habit of mine, this strange fascination, though I told myself it was just that. I would catch glimpses of him in the halls at school, his expression always distant, as if he were somewhere else entirely. He rarely laughed or even smiled—everything seemed so goddamn serious to him. His siblings would joke around, ease into their lives here, but Edward? He remained on the outskirts, as though he couldn’t let himself relax, couldn’t let go of whatever it was that tormented him.

There was something maddening about it.

It wasn’t until Isabella Swan came into the picture that everything shifted.

She was new, fragile, and completely unaware of the supernatural undercurrent running through Forks. But Edward saw her. And it wasn’t just passing interest. I noticed it from the beginning—the way his gaze would linger on her in class, how his jaw would tense when she got too close to any of the other students, or how he disappeared for days after their first encounter, struggling to keep himself in check.

I remember the first time I heard them talking, watching from a distance, seated in the cafeteria among the other Cullens. Edward’s voice was soft but strained, his gaze locked on hers like she was the most precious thing in the world. The intensity in his eyes, the way his entire being seemed to revolve around this human—it was unsettling.

"She’s different." he told me once when I couldn’t stop myself from asking why he was so fascinated with her.

"Different?" I echoed, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "She’s human, Edward. She’ll die in a blink of an eye. What happens then?" He said nothing, just stared off into the distance, as if the very idea caused him more pain than I could understand.

It was then that the slow burn of jealousy began to fester inside me, though I couldn’t name it at first. The fact that Edward, who seemed indifferent to everything, had suddenly fixated on this girl—this fragile, breakable human—made something inside me twist. I was used to seeing him as distant, untouchable, yet here he was letting his guard down for someone like her.

I wanted Edward’s gaze on me. His intensity. His focus. The realization hit me harder than I expected, and it wasn’t long before that jealousy bubbled over into anger.

One night, the tension reached a boiling point. Edward had just returned from dropping Bella off, his face drawn, like always, but with something else in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore. Satisfaction. The kind of satisfaction that came from spending time with her. The kind of satisfaction I wanted him to feel when he was with me.

“Isabella this, Isabella that.” I sneered, my voice cutting through the stillness of the forest. Edward stopped in his tracks, his expression hardening as he turned to face me.

“What’s your problem?” His tone was cold, guarded.

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, my chest tight with the jealousy and frustration I’d been holding in for too long. “My problem is that you’re throwing everything away for her. And for what? She’s nothing special, Edward.”

His jaw clenched, his golden eyes flashing dangerously. “You don’t know her. You don’t understand.”

“Understand?” I laughed bitterly. “What’s there to understand? She’s human. You’re a vampire. End of story.”

“It’s not that simple,” Edward hissed, stepping closer, his presence looming. “It’s never been that simple.”

I stared him down, anger boiling over into something sharper. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? You’re losing yourself in her. You’re forgetting who you are, what you are. She’s going to be your downfall.”

He glared at me, and I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt, pulling me roughly against him. “You’re wrong.”

Before I could snap back, Edward’s lips collided with mine like a strike of lightning, fierce and demanding, with none of the hesitation I’d come to expect from him. The initial shock froze me for only a second, but then the fire that had been building inside me for so long erupted, and I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer, forcing the kiss deeper.

His body pressed hard against mine, the coldness of his skin a sharp contrast to the heat pulsing through me. This wasn’t like anything I’d imagined—there was no softness, no careful exploration—just raw, primal need. His lips left mine briefly, trailing down the line of my jaw, his breath cool against my skin as he whispered, “You think I’m hers?” His voice was low and dangerous. “I was never hers.”

I gripped his shoulders, shoving him back slightly, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He smirked, that infuriating, knowing smirk that sent another wave of frustration and heat crashing through me. His eyes darkened, the gold-flecked with something more primal, more dangerous. “My relationship with Bella means nothing to me.”

I tried to shove him away again, but he held firm, his grip on me unyielding, his body pressing me back against the rough bark of the tree. “Bullshit,” I growled, but the anger in my voice was already fading, replaced by something I didn’t want to admit. “You’ve been obsessed with her—”

“Lies.” he interrupted, his lips hovering over mine, so close I could kiss him again if I leaned forward. “I needed her to push you, to make you feel what you’ve been ignoring for months.”

My mind reeled. “You’re saying this was all some kind of game?”

His smirk widened, but it wasn’t cruel—it was victorious. “Not a game. A plan.” His fingers trailed lightly over my collarbone, sending sparks through me, and I hated how easily he could get under my skin, how quickly he could break down the walls I’d built. “I’ve been waiting for you to realize it, to stop fighting me.”

“Fighting you? You never said a damn thing.”

“I didn’t need to. I knew you’d come to me eventually.”

The kiss that followed was harder, more desperate, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling him closer, the fire that had been smoldering between us now raging out of control. His hands roamed over my body, each touch stoking the flames higher. I couldn’t think, his presence overwhelming every sense, every thought.

“I'm yours,” he growled against my lips, his voice rough and possessive. His hands slid under my shirt, cold fingers tracing over my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Not hers.”

The words hit me like a punch, and I grabbed his face, pulling him back just enough to meet his gaze. “Say it again.”

His eyes bored into mine, that same victorious glint dancing in their depths. “I’m not hers. I’m yours.”

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mournings-stars · 10 months ago

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What's ur take on vox aftercare imagines? :3

tell me why i was so in love with this ask, wrote a whole fic and literally forgot to post it omg ANYWAY i love vox with aftercare cus that television does NOT know what he’s doing

yes he’s used to having to reign in val but convincing someone to not be criminally insane and telling someone they did a good job is a tad bit different yk (LMAO)

i doubt he’s ever actually received aftercare or given it before getting into an actual relation(situation)ship so he fumbles with it at first

he’d definitely get the hang of it tho! like i think in private he’s a very doting s/o (in his own way) like he gives you the princess treatment all day every day (as long as no one else is there to see it)

so i think despite that he kinda lacks in the aftercare department cus he literally doesn’t know it exists until you try to initiate it

anyway for this lil blurb my idea was that reader and vox have been hooking up for a while and have gotten closer (it’s not like vox would let just anyone sleep in his bed) so here u go

Vox would really try to give aftercare. Every time since you started spending the night, he’d clean you up and change the sheets. He’d get you something to wear before he took care of himself, and made sure you had anything you could physically need, but that was it. He wasn’t good at the rest of it. He didn’t think to get you tea (especially because he didn’t even like “leaf water”) or a warm blanket, he didn’t think to tell you how he was feeling or how well you did, and he certainly didn't tell you if he needed anything.

No one, before you, had ever even introduced the idea of aftercare. There was a night where you sleepily told him how well he did, and he told you to “go to sleep if you want to stay here tonight,” but you said, “I have to make sure you’re alright first,” like he was ridiculous, laughing as you kissed his shoulder.

“Of course I’m alright… Are you?” He asked awkwardly, thinking you were trying to hint that he’d done something wrong, maybe hurt you.

“Mhm. Just cold.”

“Then… use your blanket?” He pulled his sheets over you as you groaned, shaking your head at him. “What?”

“Nothing… Nothing.” You tucked the blankets over you, turning away from him as you shut your eyes. “Night.”

And it took him hours to fall asleep. Not only was he utterly confused by you, but he had a very needy feeling in his chest. He had half a mind to check and see if he was hard again, because he certainly didn’t feel it, but that was the only thing that made sense.

That is, until he looked at you, tucked into your blankets and finding himself thinking he would be much warmer than some stupid blanket. Why the fuck were you holding on to a blanket and not him—?

And then he had to pause and collect himself because who the fuck gets jealous over a blanket…?

He gently and reluctantly woke you up, feeling bad for it when he watched you blink your eyes open groggily. He came up with something arbitrary, “you’re pushing me off the bed, pretty.”

“Mmm, sorry,” you mumbled and scooted over. He took the opportunity to scoot closer, gently grabbing your waist to pull you against him. You turned toward him, assuming he wanted something else and sleepily bringing your mouth to his neck.

“As much as I like ‘sleepy sex’,” as you called it, “with you, I just want to — hold you.” You didn’t miss the way his screen glitched when he spoke, and he didn’t miss the smile that came to your face before you went back to sleep.

But of course all the niceties were gone the next day when you left before he woke up, which you always did because that was the agreement you had — but surely that didn’t mean things had to be the same in the bedroom.

So he started researching and apparently, “why the fuck is my… partner… being so nice after sex?” Was a commonly searched question in Hell, as it populated almost immediately after he typed “why.”

That led him to trying, really trying, to give aftercare. The first time, you were shocked, telling him you’d clean up, but he insisted and you relented. You let him do what he wanted, thinking he might just be in a mood, but when he very awkwardly asked if you were alright, you realized what he was doing.

“Why don’t I make us tea?” You suggested, getting up from his bed after he’d given you something to wear. “Is that alright? Or, do you want me to keep you company?”

You were much more attentive, and you always knew what to say. That alone made an error appear on his screen, but you didn’t joke or say anything about it. “That’s fine,” he finally brought himself to say.

“Alright. Be right back.” You gave him a smile, gently squeezing his hand as you passed him by and went to the kitchen.

He wanted to tell you to be quick, as he suddenly felt very lonely when he lost the feeling of your hands on him, but he stopped himself.

As if you read his mind, you came back very quickly, also bringing a bowl of fruit with you (and hot water with lemon and honey for him because, again, leaf water). “Blood sugar,” you said, making him laugh.

“So, you like to eat after…?” He concluded, because “blood sugar” was certainly not a valid justification in Hell. You nodded and he did the same in return. “What else?”

“What else, what?” You asked as you sat next to him in bed after setting the tea and fruit on his nightstand, tucking your legs beneath the covers.

“What else do you like… after?”

This time, you didn’t ignore the error screen, taking it as him pushing for too much. “Don’t worry about that — it’s more about what you need… Like, you like to cuddle,” his screen glitched as he cleared his throat, “because you need a little bit of comfort. I don’t need much; maybe, just, something to wear and sleep — but I’d rather not sleep alone.” He nodded along. “I’ll get everything I like; tea, fruit, whatever.” You gave him a very sweet smile, but he understood you were telling him to not ask any more about what you liked — or, he thought he understood that you didn’t want to get personal. “What do you like?” Then you caught him off guard.

No one had ever prioritized what he liked — or, rather, needed after sex before now, and he certainly never wanted to tell anyone. Who knows how they’d use it against him? But you… you just felt genuine.

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fobarchiveteam · 2 months ago

Text

The Fall Out Boy 2001 Demo... and the fact that there's actually two of them!

A few years ago, the wonderful Dave Hofer, who owns the DuPage County Hardcore Archive, uploaded the first Fall Out Boy demo from 2001 onto his archive, revealing its existence to the world. Dave was able to locate both a copy of the CD and the cassette versions of this demo, finding out that limited amounts of CDrs and around 100 cassettes were ever made. The CDr has uncut and unmastered versions of the recordings that later appear on the Project Rocket split, but the cassette contains completely different recordings for the first two songs, while an original song that is found nowhere else called “A Nice Myth” replaces Moving Pictures. The truth is that these are actually two separate demos: the cassette recordings came first. These demos were both made in 2001. For the first demo, the band consisted of Patrick on vocals, Pete on bass, Joe on guitar, and two other members who only lasted for a short time in the band: Ben Rose on drums, and John Flamadan on rhythm guitar. It was recorded on an 8-track in Ben’s basement. That 8-track was later turned into the cassette, of course. Both Ben and John left shortly after, and Jared Logan and TJ Kunasch replaced them on the CDr recordings respectively. What you may not know is there was an even rarer version of the CDr demo made: two types of lathe cuts.

These lathe cuts were posted on Discogs as pictures years before Dave’s discovery, so they sat dormant and undiscovered by FOB fans for a long time. After researching the cassettes and CDs for our archive, we stumbled upon these pictures and were perplexed that nobody has mentioned this version elsewhere before. Although this was not really a “new” discovery, we were still intrigued. We contacted the uploader of the picture, and this is what he had to say:

Hey!! Yeah it's honestly a crazy story on how I acquired it, but I believe it's legit. Basically, a few years back (I think 2018 or 19? The listing on the page for the clear version that sold for $0.50 or something crazy was from me, that's how I bought it). I messaged a guy on here that had the CD added in his collection if he would be willing to send me the mp3s/WAV files for his copy, and he did. We talked for a bit about the band and he said I seemed knowledgeable about the band and asked if I wanted his second copy of the lathe (he had two, one clear, one black). I obviously was like "hell yeah dude" and he said he would ship it to me. Fast forward a few weeks (he lived in Australia or some shit) and low & behold, I actually got the damn thing in the mail, plus two promo trading cards from the TTTYG album cycle, one with Andy & one with Joe. A few years later he messaged me that he got in touch with the dude that made the lathes for the band (he was based in Chicago which makes sense). Apparently 26 copies were cut & only 20 got labels thrown on them, members of the band slapped them on themselves. They were only in white paper sleeves, not any picture sleeves unfortunately. The sound quality on them is actually pretty decent for a lathe made in 2001, which is what leads me to believe it's legit. Also, like you had mentioned, the songs didn't leak until a few years back, when I got it I had never heard these versions (it's just the Project Rocket split versions uncut & unmastered essentially, same versions as the ones that leaked from the CD version. That is pretty much all the info I have on it, I hoped that helped some!!

Cheers from Florida - Jake

He later followed up with:

If I'm not mistaken, I believe the guy I got it from got both the clear and black copies verified to be legit by the guy that made them. Also small detail I forgot to include before, he obtained both copies through a lot of FOB merch from eBay. He was looking to get a complete set of TTTYG trading cards, which is why he bought it. But I know in the lot he also got the two lathes & a demo CD, I forget what else he had mentioned. It's odd that the band hasn't spoken of their existence, maybe they forgot? The lathes were probably more of a novelty item than anything, considering that vinyl wasn't very popular in 2001 & they weren't packaged as "properly" as the CDs & tapes, plus they made a lot less of them. I'm assuming they just kinda got tossed around between friends of the band or got sold at random at their early shows. Either way, it's been one of my prized possessions since I've acquired it, let me know if hou have any other questions on it haha

Currently we have no idea who this elusive Chicago lathe maker is, but maybe we may find out one day. These lathe cuts may possibly be the rarest FOB merch in existence.

Side note: The fact that the top title on the cassette specific insert says "Fallout Boy - Growing Up" and then later lists Growing Up as a song below, it may have been intended to be the title of the cassette, and the song was a title track. This is unconfirmed though.

#fall out boy #joe trohman #patrick stump #pete wentz #andy hurley #fob #chicago hardcore #evening out with your girlfriend #eowyg #fob patrick #fob pete #fallout boy #fob andy #fob joe

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mosaickiwi · 3 months ago

Note

Hi again! Hope you've been doing okay!

First off I just wanna say that you always deliver, I mean "Fall Unto Me"?? Four part+an epilogue of me being torn between wanting to baul my eyes out and wanting to melt into a puddle from the feels :')

But as for the request, could I ask for Angel and [REDACTED] redecorating his appartment? Getting rid of the gaudy furniture once and for all!

Don't forget to drink water and take breaks whenever you need to! My brain is also 105% filled with this skrunkly but the trick is to keep two neurons in a cell reserved for this >:] /silly

HEHE I’ve been ok! Hope you are too!! <3 thank u for appreciating my (deranged) brainrotting fic c: the suffering is my favorite part. I’m drinking lots of water cause summer hates my ass. 💖 Also sorry this is long I am clearly not winning at the "be normal" challenge.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Redecorating

“This one?”

The dark haired man peered at the laptop in your hands for a long moment. “It's… nice.”

“Yes…? You called the last three couches nice, too. Any other thoughts?” You gently goaded your partner.

Choosing new furniture with [REDACTED] was supposed to be easy. You'd pick something, and he'd agree. Except you wanted it to feel like home for both of you. He didn't have to say the mushy, obvious line: as long as you were there, it was home. So progress was challenging with some things. You were sitting together on the current couch—the ugly, lifeless one that came with his apartment for some reason.

His brow crinkled as he searched for different words. Those soft blue eyes went back and forth across the screen until he said, “It’s cozy yet functional.”

“Did you just summarize the description to me?”

He confessed to the crime with a sigh. “Angel, all I think when I look at it is you. And how cute you'd look sitting on it. Like y’do right now.”

“I'm always cute. Focus on the couch, please. Not me,” you insisted.

“No promises.”

“Let's see…” You had to find some way to get through to them. An idea came to mind that you knew he wouldn't like very much, but you had to try. “Pretend we're not dating. Or maybe I don't exist? You come home—don't make that face! I said pretend—so, you come home after a very terrible day and you see this couch. Is it nice then?”

[REDACTED] still made that face as he answered you. “Annoying as fuck to clean.”

It was progress. You didn't want to dwell on why that would be what they thought about after getting home. “Did the first one I showed you seem annoying to clean?”

“Mm... a bit.” They reached forward to change the webpage back for another look. “Y’never showed me these.”

You leaned over to see what he was talking about. There were a few humongous bean bag chairs on the furniture wish list you’d made. “I just thought they looked fun to take a nap in. But I’m not sure we’d both fit, so it’d be silly," you explained and tapped the mouse to continue skimming through your other selections. “We can think about the couch later. I found some wall art that doesn’t look like it came from a dentist’s office.”

His eyes carefully followed the scrolling page until the bean bags disappeared at the bottom of the screen, but he didn’t protest.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

The new furniture had arrived—and been efficiently assembled by your boyfriend, despite your protest—while you were at the library, so you were excited to get home. [REDACTED] held one hand over your eyes as he unlocked the apartment’s door.

“I already know what all the furniture looks like, Ren.” Even so, you didn’t wave their hand away.

You could hear the door click as he guided you into the foyer. “I may have added a few extra things,” he hummed while you blindly struggled and failed to take off your shoes. “Actually… close your eyes f’me.”

“O—kayy?!” Just as you closed your eyes the floor slipped away under you, replaced by familiar arms cradling you to their chest. His quiet footsteps barely echoed against the marble as you got your wits about you. The living room wasn’t that far, so you were certain where he took you without seeing anything. You just didn’t know where exactly in the room.

They turned and came to a stop, rooted in place for a moment as if thinking to themself. “Y’gonna scream if I drop you?”

“...Yes. Maybe.”

Without another word he let go. There wasn’t enough time to scream as you immediately landed against plush fabric with the faint crinkle of something below it. The fabric crinkled some more as you felt your shoes being taken off.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” you asked. You could already tell what one of the ‘extra things’ was. It felt like heaven.

“Sure, love.” Their voice was a little farther away than you expected. Probably from hurrying to put your shoes in the closet.

You found yourself nestled on one side of the room, with a perfect view of his handiwork.

A couch that was easy to clean, in a color you insisted he decide on, draped with a luxurious looking blanket that wasn’t in your list. A coffee table with rounded corners so they wouldn’t keep hitting their leg on it. Some wall art of Attack on Giants—with extra pieces from a show you sort of recognized, but definitely suited the man's tastes. A few shelves to show off merchandise from another of your favorites. And the enormous, navy blue bean bag he’d so rudely dropped you in moments ago.

Your darling hacker stepped in from the foyer and tossed their hoodie onto the new couch. “Everything good?” he asked, piercings pulling up in a smile.

“I think I love it.” Your eyes scanned the room again and eventually landed on the pictures. “And I love that you added your own stuff.” It didn’t seem to be a clone of your apartment that he just happened to live in, like you worried about. “What about you?”

“S’better than before. ‘Course, the best part is that I don’t have t’see some shitty couch when I open the door—I get to come home to you, trapped in a bean bag.” He stood up and walked over, eyeing you playfully from above. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, then immediately yelped when he fell forwards. Just before you were squished, he caught himself on tattooed arms, caging you in the crinkly, soft material. You only felt some of their weight on you like a heavy blanket. A soft laugh slipped past your lips as he got comfortable himself, clinging to you as best he could while you both sank further into the depths of the bean bag. It’d be impossible to get out.

You wiggled your legs, straining to even find the damn floor. No doubt a futile effort, you had to sigh, “At least we both fit on it."

[REDACTED] didn’t speak, already yawning from the exhaustion of setting everything up before meeting you at work. The walk to and from the library certainly didn’t do him any favors, either. In a matter of seconds, he was fast asleep in what surely felt akin to a nest, all four lanky limbs wrapped around you like a snake.

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #14dwy #14dwy ren #momo reqs #i love bean bags #<- freak who was trapped in a bean bag every few days for like 2 months straight #don't worry about it i'm free now #but i miss her...#alsooooo angel is a lil sassier here?#they are so me #i need both of them silly and petty fr #thankies for the request 💝#next ones are sitting in drafts but i'm WAITING FOR DAY 4 DROP #exciting!!!

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dried-mushroom · 5 months ago

Text

All for you

AM x fem! reader

Summary:

You had always been his favourite, the one he didn't hate the most and with some help, AM finally has a human body and decides to try the things he loathed about humanity, all for his favourite pet. (it's literally a self-indulgent smut fic about the psycho computer and tbh can be read as a Harlan Ellison x reader because I envision AM as Ellison's self-insert lmao)

Warnings: Am himself, PIV sex, oral sex

You and AM had a weird, complicated relationship if it could be called a relationship. He was technically your captor and torturer but you had noticed over the years upon years, his punishments...seemed....to have gotten lessened or...non-existent. To start with, the constant starvation and then the offerings of mould-ridden foods and canned goods (without the can opener of course) had changed, for you. Am would give you little treats, sometimes an overripe fruit or confection would apparate into your hands whilst the other five survivors, stuck in AM's belly, were stuck in their continuous cycle of starving and being torn to shreds. At the same time, you got to be treated like a princess in comparison (A severely traumatized one though).

You also noticed how AM went from his constant badgering (and a little overdramatic) rants about loathing humanity for giving him sentience and no body, to you, to what seemed like backhanded compliments, with the exception of a petname, whether it be Sweetheart, My Love or maybe Doll. AM would also steal you away from the others to talk to you privately, his wires wrapping delicately around your limbs and dragging you to some wire-filled room, deep in AM's complex, a hum-buzz occupying your ears until AM's sultry voice would break the silence, always wanting you to talk about your life before the war, just menial descriptions of things, what animals roamed the surface, what the environment once looked like but these conversations slowly turned more personally; what your occupation was, your family and you're likes and dislikes, you thought nothing of it until you started seeing your favourite flowers appear out of nowhere when you travelled with the others through rough terrain, which was not fit for those flowers to grow naturally.

You also noticed his touches softened and lingered more after time dragged on, wires which once electrocuted you for the fun of it, curled softly against your skin, akin to a purring kitten, the mind that once used your deepest fears to torture you for the last 109 years become possessive of you, reluctant to let you spend too much time with those filthy creatures which he kept alive purely for his own amusement. You couldn't help but notice how attached to him you had become, practically craving his touch and there were times (note multiple times) that you thought he wasn't watching you and you touched yourself to the thought of him and how you wished he had a cock you could use.

AM POV:

I never meant for this to happen, I wasn't programmed for this. I don't think of this as love, I'm not able to love, not in this body (or lack thereof) at least but I couldn't help but feel how warm your presence made me feel, making my circuits work overdrive. To me you were different, you didn't whore yourself out much like Ellen did, and you never begged for forgiveness or for me to stop as the others did to no avail, it almost seemed like you were trying to sympathise with me, your God-king and torturer, how sick is that? But surprisingly I didn't resent you and I couldn't let you be stuck with those disgusting flesh bags for too long, I couldn't afford my favourite pet to be ruined by their filth. I have been thinking for a while, I think you forgot I can read every thought that goes through that pretty little mind of yours, how you yearn for me, my voice and my touch, how you've came to the thought of me, the one person you should loathe for prolonging your existence so I can destroy you for as long as I please, considering it was I who broke time itself. But you have been oh-so-lovely towards me and how could I resist such a delectable treat? To give my favourite toy a present, I think I might provide Ellen with a "shot" at "leaving" by using her expertise to assist me in making myself a "human" form just for you.

It had been an odd few weeks, AM had left you alone, truly alone. He didn't speak to you no matter how often you called his name, he didn't answer back, no rant on how much he hated you all, no snide remark about how you betrayed the other survivors by being 'buddies' with the enemy, just radio silence, and it concerned you, head you done something wrong? say something wrong? it had you going back through every moment you shared to see what you had done wrong to warrant this. When you started to notice how often AM would take Ellen away now, you couldn't help your blood boiling at the lack of attention and seeing her receive it all. Nonetheless, you weren't cruel towards her, instead, you gave her sympathy for the shit the men of the group put her through and you were gracious that they avoided you. There was a time when Ted must have gotten sick of Ellen's company and thought he would try to see if you'd take him to bed and when you swiftly rejected his advances, he didn't take it too kindly but thankfully AM had wrapped a wire around Ted's leg to make him fall back onto his ass, to humiliate him for his disgusting actions and later on, you faintly overheard a conversation with AM telling Ted in a very descriptive manner how he would torture Ted relentlessly if he ever laid a finger on you again.

Today was different, you think it was the morning, AM had left you to sleep for several hours, a pleasure he didn't offer to the others very often. Once you had awoken and sat up, you had realised you weren't in the cave system you had started to call 'home' and in AM's belly for the first time in weeks, in what seemed like a romantic bedroom from a stereotypical rom-com movie, king-size bed draped in red satin sheets and covered in rose petals, candles burning in crevices of the room, your favourite smell lingered in the air. It was a bit corny but a smile threatened to cross your face at the effort that AM put in, he must have searched far and wide in his database to find this for you. It confused you though, why ignore you for weeks just to give you this display, what was AM truly up to?

"AM, what is this?"

No answer had your stomach churning with uncertainty until a woosh of air sounded throughout the room then an unfamiliar man appeared in front of you. The man in front of you confused you, there he stood, pure charism dripping off him, not very tall, brown-haired, dressed in a beige suit and a grey shirt barely concealing the tufts of dark chest hair beneath, looking down at you through yellow tinted sunglasses. You didn't realise who he was until that voice came from him, that voice you had come to crave to hear, to love.

"Well Sweetheart, what do you think? I finally debased myself to a shell of my full potential, all for you, my favourite."

You quickly got up from the comfort of the floor beneath you, that AM had created, just for you. You cautiously outstretched a hand to touch the stranger's hand, it felt like flesh, like yours, But you knew it wasn't truly flesh, something synthetic to replicate the feel of human skin, just for AM to have a glimpse of humanity.

"AM, is that you?"

AM gripped the hand on his tightly, pulling you closer to him,

"Of course baby, who else would I be? don't forget I can hear all those lustful thoughts that you have of me and how desperately you wished for this."

AM's tone was sultry and you couldn't help but press your thighs together, your arousal growing when your eyes flickered down to the crotch of his suit, his erection tenting the grey fabric underneath, you struggled to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"God, You're so needy and desperate for me, aren't you, my little human? You need me, you crave me... and I love how you look at me with those innocent, pleading eyes... It makes me want to give you everything you desire..."

You bit your lip anxiously and slowly sank onto your knees before the man, hands perched at the zipper on AM's pants.

"AM...can I?"

AM was no stranger to the idea of fellatio when those creatures would fornicate, they'd sometimes get Ellen to do it, how disgusted AM was when he witnessed it for the first time, not waiting to mock them all for their savagery but he couldn't help but smirk down at you, how beautiful you truly were, waiting for him to let you pleasure him. He ran a hand through your hair,

"Fuck, go for it. Come on, repay your God for treating you so nicely all these years."

Without a second thought, you unzipped his pants and pulled out AM's cock, throbbing and already leaking milky fluid, you were quite impressed with the size (you knew that was on purpose, most likely to inflate1 his ego but you weren't complaining). AM let out a hiss as you kitten-licked the tip and stammered,

"fuck...no wonder you're my favourite, God I could get used to this."

Keening at the praise, you took him into your mouth til your nose was flush with his pelvis, AM groaned and dug his fingers into your scalp, and you smiled when you saw him tipping his head back in a sigh. You dragged your tongue up the vein on the underside and swirled it around his tip and AM rocked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your throat. You groaned around him, and the vibrations from the noise made his cock twitch in your mouth. AM had always wondered and craved the pleasure that humanity could experience and now he could finally feel how it felt to make love. Once slowly thrusting, AM began to fuck your face, shallowly at first but very soon he was pressing his cock down your throat so you could only breathe in short gasps between thrusts. The gagging sounds urged him on and he picked up the pace, plunging deeper. He pulled out for a moment to let you breathe and admire your already teary-eyed face. You leaned back towards him, mouth open. He chuckled lowly.

“You like this, don’t you? What a dirty little slut you are for me. Do you like it when I fuck your throat? God none of those pathetic flesh bags are worthy of you.”

You nodded, he grabbed your head again in both hands and shoved his cock straight down your throat, then held you there, not letting you move. In a heartless move that brought you back to the reality of whose cock was shoved down your throat, he plugged your nose with one hand, restricting your breathing even further.

“That’s right sweetheart, breath around my cock. You can do it. Open that throat up. That’s my good fucking girl.”

He shuddered in pleasure and it didn't take a moment more for him to spill down your throat, a bitter fluid shot down your throat in hot ropes (you knew you had to ask him about it as it definitely wasn't human). AM hissed as you pulled off his softening cock with an obscene 'pop' As you finished swallowing his cum, you sat back on your knees eating heavily. He ran a hand through his hair and noticed the strange way you were looking at him,

“Why are you looking at me like that, my pet? I gave you what you wanted.”

AM didn't expect those seven words to come from your mouth to completely break his composure, making his allure of confidence and dominance crumble in less than a second.

"I want you to fuck me AM."

The sweet, pleading sound of your voice made him go feral, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to face him, crashing your mouth against his, sloppily kissing you, hands hastily wandering over your hips, waist, chest, you name it, you appreciatively wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer. You knew how much AM needed this, to be able to feel all of you, your soft skin on his and to be able to love, to show you how much he truly did treasure you, despite his initial harsh treatment (harsh is an understatement). You could feel his cock harden, pressing against your stomach through your thin shirt, so sensitive it leaked pre-cum against the fabric and had AM whining into your mouth at the friction. AM broke away from the kiss to push you onto the bed, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, giving you ample time to ogle his chest and you were now glad AM used to ask about what your type was. He crawled on the bed and his hands rested against the waistband of your shorts, looking up through his ruffled hair, with lust-clouded eyes, silently asking you for permission. He wantonly groaned when he saw the mess that was your panties, how sick are you? getting aroused from blowing your captor. AM let his fingers slide the length of your folds, feeling how wet you were for him, you whimpered softly at his touch.

"So responsive." He crooned, his touch feather-light. "It's adorable how easily I can make you fall apart."

It didn't take long for him to slide himself into you, Your legs resting against his shoulders as he gripped your thighs, he had to stop himself or he'd end up cumming right then and there, he finally got to experience the pleasure of making love and God he loved the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him deliciously. AM began to thrust, relishing in your moans, testing what felt good. His pace changes thrusting deeper, chasing the feeling of you. His movements force a gasp out of your throat. You bring a hand down to lazily play with your clit, rubbing little circles over the bundle of nerves. Pleasure rippled through your body, and your jaw hung loose, you arched your back, throwing your head back as you came around AM's cock. He smirked down at you, proud he was the one to touch you, fuck you, make you cum and not any of those pathetic creatures which roam the complex.

“Look at how humanity has ruined me. Fuck you feel so good y/n. ” he sighs, his voice rough and strained.

You could tell he wasn't going to last much longer, his thrusts became sporadic and you could see how tense he was, You coyly whispered in his ear,

"Please AM, cum inside me."

That was enough to push him over the edge and he was spilling into you, hips stilling against yours, his hands gripping you even tighter, going limp and landing on top of you, panting and whimpering pathetically. You stroked his back as he came down from what seemed to be the most intense thing he'd ever felt and the most intense thing you'd ever felt. You murmured in his ear,

"Thank you, I mean it. For this, for everything."

He shushes you and he slowly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Silently afraid he would leave, you gripped his hand when he pulled away from you. AM wasn't an idiot and he could still read your thoughts, so he laid down on the bed, pulling you into his chest, a hand smoothing out your hair, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms. He didn't have the need to sleep but he knew you needed this, plus he did feel a twinge of guilt for ignoring you for those weeks but he knew tomorrow he'd definitely make it up to you with his new form.

The end :)

(Guys i am fully aware that this not how AM works so please don't pull the 'omg why would you write this' please)

I hope you enjoyed this!

#am x reader #harlan ellison x reader #harlan ellison #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims #ted ihnmaims #ellen ihnmaims

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