#whenever i was sad or hurt he would lay next to me and put his head on my arm hand or lap | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

woniedarlin · 7 months ago

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When Love Knows No Distance: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You always wanted to study abroad. Now, with a full scholarship to a university far away from home, your dream is becoming a reality. The opportunity is exciting, but it comes with a heart-wrenching cost: leaving behind Jungwon, your boyfriend of three years.

warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive (mdni), mention of cursing, LOTS AND LOTS OF CRYING 😭Let me know if there is more!

note: My gorgeous darlings!! I created this inspired by what's happening in my life. I’m not in a relationship YET, but instead, it’s about my childhood friends. It's still hard for me since I moved away from my hometown back then. Leaving my friends and not seeing them for a while makes me sad. Still, I'm always thankful for the times I get to see them.

permanent taglist: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter

Caution: You might cry while reading this! Because who doesn’t when you have to leave Jungwon? Reading discretion is advised 🥹🥹

The room was dark, with a warm light from the bedside lamp. The air was thick with the bittersweet knowledge that this was your last night together for a while. Usually a place of laughter and light, Jungwon's room now seemed to echo with the silent ticking of the clock.

You lay together on his bed in each other’s embrace, both silently refusing to acknowledge that this was the last time you two would see each other for a while.

After several moments of silence, Jungwon pulled back slightly to lock eyes with you. His face displayed both love and concern. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your heart sinking at the implication. You propped yourself up on one elbow, your free hand reaching out to gently caress his cheek.

His eyes looking at yours intently. His hand now resting gently on your thigh. “Studying abroad for the next four years… leaving me behind…” he said, the words hanging in the air. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You felt a little hurt at what he said. You sat up slightly, pulling away just enough to look at him more clearly. "…You know that it has always been my dream. I have told you that ever since." Your voice was firm but soft.

Jungwon nodded. Of course, he knew. Your eyes always sparkled with excitement whenever you talked about it. But knowing and accepting were two different things.

“I know, I know it has,” he said, gently playing with your hair. “It’s just... I don’t know if I can handle being away from you for so long.”

"Me too… but we’ll call and update each other," you said, trying to reassure him. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before resting your head against his chest.

“Every single day?” Jungwon asked, putting on a small smile, an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere amid the emotional weight.

You nodded slightly, "Of course."

Jungwon’s smile widened a bit more. The fear and worry in his eyes were still there. “And you better come back to me, no matter what,” he added.

"I will," you promised, smiling. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing gently across his cheek. "I promise."

“Good.” He pulled you in again, his arms wrapping around you like a security blanket. “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t…,” he murmured into your hair, nuzzling his face against the side of your head.

You squinted your eyes playfully, "What will you do?" Pulling away again as you tilted your head slightly, trying to catch his gaze.

Jungwon let out a low, soft chuckle, “I’d probably just sit here like an idiot, missing you like crazy every single day.” He then moved a hand up to gently pinch your side, which made you squirm and let out a small giggle.

"Sit in your bed and stare at the wall for a long time," you added, trying to keep the mood light. You poked his side in return,

Jungwon rolled his eyes, “Don’t be like that. I’d do other things too, like stare longingly at your picture, pretending you’re here with me…” Then he paused in thought before adding, “And I’d also write you love letters. Long, sappy letters confessing how much I miss you.”

You scrunched your nose, "Cheesy." You laughed softly, the sound was soothing to the tension in the room.

Jungwon’s eyebrows furrowed, “Hey, don’t call it cheesy. It’s sincere, alright?” He continued to snuggle you, “You love it when I’m sappy.”

"I’m gonna miss you… like crazy. I’m used to being with you every single day," you said, inhaling his familiar baby powder scent. You will definitely miss his baby scent a lot.

Jungwon’s voice was soft yet full of yearning. “I’m going to miss you too. A lot. I still can’t believe you’re going away for the next four years…”

“It’s going to be strange… waking up every morning and not seeing you next to me. No more spontaneous trips to the park or late-night snacks when we’re up studying.” His words trailed off, and he bit his lower lip as if he were trying to hold back a wave of emotion. Then, he quietly added, his voice just above a whisper,

“No more random hugs and kisses…”

He pecked your lips before adding, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle not being with you every single day… I guess I’ve gotten too used to having you around.”

"Me too," you echoed, your voice softening with emotion. You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, your touch gentle and loving.

Jungwon’s embrace was almost bordering on clinging now. “I don’t want you to go. I want to lock you up and keep you here with me forever.” His words were spoken in jest, but a little truth to it—like his heart was spilling out through his lips. “But I want you to reach for your dreams.”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, “You’ll take care of yourself, okay? No pulling all-nighters and living on caffeine and instant ramen. And don’t forget to call me when you’re feeling stressed or just call me for updates.”

"Got it," you said, nodding. You pressed a reassuring kiss to his lips, a deep one for a moment before pulling away.

“I mean it—no skipping meals or pushing yourself too hard,” Jungwon said with a tinge of strictness now, but his voice remained soft. “You should always eat properly and get enough sleep. And if you’re having a tough time, call me anytime. I’ll stay up to talk to you no matter how late it is for me.”

"Same goes for you. Call me, alright?" you said, your tone firm yet affectionate.

Jungwon nodded immediately, “Of course, I’ll call you. I’ll probably call you like, 5 times a day.”

"Sure," you agreed with a smile, resting your forehead against his.

He chuckled softly, “You better answer all my calls.” He tried to sound jokingly stern, but the slight waver in his voice gave away just how much the parting was affecting him.

"Things will get difficult, and I know that being in a long-distance relationship will be even tougher. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes for us to stay strong," you said as you intertwined your fingers with his, holding his hand tightly.

A lump formed in Jungwon’s throat as he took in your words—the depth of your love mirrored his own. “Yeah, it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to suck, actually,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly.

“But we’ll make it work. We’ve survived through ups and downs before, right?”

“We did,” you said, your voice steady but with emotion.

“We’ve got this… we’ll be fine…” He then raised his head to look directly into your eyes. “And I’ll be waiting for you. Every single day. No matter how long it takes.”

“Four years,” you muttered, the reality of the time frame sinking in. Your eyes welled up with tears, but you blinked them back, trying to stay strong for him.

Jungwon’s face almost crumpled at the thought of four years, but he tried to plaster a small, somewhat forced smile on his face. “Yeah, four years… it seems like a long time.”

“But it’ll go by so fast, you’ll see. And before you know it, you’ll be in my arms again.” He added.

“I love you… I don’t want to leave you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. You clung to him, burying your face in his chest as if you could hide from the reality of your departure.

His heart clenched as your words sank in. “I love you too. More than anything.” He held you tighter, pressing his face against the side of yours, needing to be as close as possible to you.

“I don’t want you to leave either. But I wouldn’t dream of asking you to give up your dreams for me,” he murmured.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. “I’ll call you every day, alright?” you said, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over.

Jungwon nodded, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive if I can’t hear your voice every day…” he said softly, his voice so vulnerable.

“I will,” you promised, leaning in to kiss him gently. Your lips met his in a kiss, with all the love and longing you felt.

Jungwon returned your kiss, his lips meeting yours gently yet with desperation. It was as if he was trying to memorize the feel of your lips, trying to store it in his memory for the days, months, and years to come. You could feel the slight tremor in his hands as he cupped your face.

As the night grew darker, you both held each other tightly. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

Finally, as sleep began to calm you, you whispered one last time, “I love you, Jungwon.” Your voice was soft, almost a breathless sigh, but it carried all the weight of your emotions.

“I love you too… more than you’ll ever know….” He muttered, his voice thick with sleep and emotion. He pressed a final kiss to your forehead before resting his head against yours, his arms securely wrapped around you.

🩵

The airport was very busy, with people hurrying to their gates and announcements overhead. But for you and Jungwon, time felt like it was moving slowly as you stood at the departure gate.

Jungwon’s grip on your hand was almost too tight, his fingers interlocked with yours as if he was trying to anchor you to this spot—to him.

His face was full of emotions. There was love, worry, fear, and a clear reluctance to let you go. He’d be damned if he let you see the tears that were threatening to well up in his eyes, though, so he kept them at bay for now.

Despite his efforts to stay strong, his voice came out shakier than usual. “I don’t want you to go…”

He knew he sounded like a whining child, but at this moment, he didn’t care. All he wanted was for you to stay here, with him, where it was safe and warm and familiar. Where he could protect you and take care of you.

“I’m sorry…” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own emotions. Reaching up, you gently cupped his cheek, trying to meet his eyes.

He couldn’t bring himself to look directly at you. The sight of your face was enough to break his heart further. Instead, he focused his gaze on a random spot on the floor, his jaw clenching.

“Don’t apologize…” he muttered, his voice just above a whisper. “You’re doing what you’ve always dreamed of doing. I’d be a selfish bastard if I got in the way of that…”

You felt a lump in your throat, your heart aching at the sight of his pain. “I know… but I’m going to miss you so much. Every single day.”

He finally lifted his head to look at you, his eyes filled with both love and pain. He tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Call me. Every day. Even as soon as you arrive.”

“Of course, my love.” You gave him a reassuring smile, though it felt wobbly. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll call you every chance I get. We’ll make this work, Jungwon. I promise.”

He nodded in response, his fingers giving your hand one last squeeze. Just then, a boarding announcement echoed through the airport loudspeaker, signaling that your flight was about to depart.

When he heard the sound, Jungwon felt his heart tighten. “Your flight…”

You hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest as tears began to spill over. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. Your hands clutched at his shirt as if you could hold onto him a little longer.

Jungwon’s arms encircled you like iron bands, pulling you tightly against him in a crushingly tight embrace. “I love you too…” he said quietly, his voice muffled against your hair. He stayed like that for a few more seconds, savoring your warmth, your scent, everything about you. Then, reluctantly, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again.

You kissed him for the last time, putting all your love and longing into that one moment. It was a bittersweet goodbye kiss that neither of you wanted to end.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. He was struggling now, the dam of emotions within him beginning to crack.

“See you in a while,” you said, closing your eyes before tilting back, unable to say the word ‘goodbye’ to him.

He desperately wanted to say ‘I don’t want to wait that long,’ but he forced those words back, knowing that it would only make this parting harder for both of you. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah… see you in a while…”

You took a deep breath, gave him one last look, and turned to walk away. Holding your luggage tightly, you forced your feet to move, each step feeling heavier than the last. Tears streamed down your face, but you didn’t look back.

You knew that if you looked back, you wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Jungwon forced himself to remain still as he watched the distance between you grow wider and wider. The tears that he’d been holding back were now streaming down his cheeks, hot and fast. He bit his lip to keep from calling out your name, to keep from begging you to come back.

He knew he couldn’t do that. You had a dream to pursue, and he loved you too much to stand in the way.

🩵

It’s been 3 years. 3 years without seeing each other.

And it was fucking painful.

You two have been staying strong for 3 years, despite the challenges. Jungwon kept his promise and called you 5 times every day and sent you love letters while you were at university. He also would listen to you all night when you were stressed, even though he was lacking sleep.

At this moment, Jungwon was propped up in bed, phone pressed to his ear as he listened to you talk about your day. It was nearing 2 a.m. and he had an early morning class the next day, but he didn’t care. He would stay up all night if it meant he could talk to you.

“And then, this girl I know… she said the most hilarious joke in the—” He cut you off with a stifled yawn, covering the receiver with his hand in an attempt to hide it.

“Love? You should go to sleep,” you said with concern, your voice soft but firm.

He quickly shook his head, even though you couldn’t see him. There was no way he was ending this call just yet. “No, I’m not tired. Keep talking, I’m listening…” He said, trying to sound as wide awake as possible. Sure, he was exhausted, but hearing your voice was well worth staying up for a bit longer.

“No. Go to sleep,” you repeated with a firmer tone. You appreciated his efforts, but you wouldn’t allow this.

He huffed a sigh, knowing there was no point in trying to convince you otherwise. Even though he wanted to keep talking to you all night, he knew better than to argue when you were in “concerned girlfriend mode.”

“Fine, fine… I’ll go to sleep…” He mumbled, exaggerating his tiredness just a bit to get some sympathy points.

“Hey, baby?”

“Yeah?” you asked.

A small smile appeared on his lips. Hearing your voice, even just through the phone, was very soothing to his weary soul. “I miss you… can we video chat for a bit? Just to say goodnight?”

“Of course,” you replied, pressing the video call button without hesitation.

Jungwon smiled as your face appeared on his screen. The familiar sight of your features, even through the pixelated screen, instantly lifted his spirits. He adjusted his position in the bed, getting more comfortable as he held the phone out so that you could see him as well.

“Hey, beautiful…” He greeted you with a tired but affectionate smile.

“Hi, baby…” you said with a soft smile, feeling butterflies from just seeing his face. You reached out to touch the screen as if you could touch his face.

“Goodness...I’ve missed seeing your face.” He said quietly. He wished he could reach through the screen and touch you.

“We video call each other every day,” you said, your eyes twinkling with both amusement and sadness.

He chuckled at your words, knowing you were right. “I know, I know… and it’s the highlight of my day, don’t get me wrong. But it’s just not the same as seeing you in person. I miss being able to hold you tight and kiss you.”

Your heart ached at his words, and you nodded. “I miss it too. So much. But we’re getting through this, right? Just one more year… and then I’ll be back in your arms again.”

He took a deep breath and changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on the longing right now. Instead, he decided to tease you a bit. “But I won’t lie… the sound of your voice every night before I go to bed is pretty damn great. Even if you are the reason I fail my classes from lack of sleep.”

You widened your eyes and felt bad. “Wait, seriously baby?” you asked, leaning closer to the screen as if you could reach out and shake some sense into him.

He nodded with an exaggerated serious expression, “Yes, seriously. You keep me up all night, and you expect me to be awake and alert in class the next day? It’s a recipe for disaster, I’m telling you.”

He said, shaking his head but the corners of his mouth twitched, threatening to break into a smile.

“Oh no…” you said with a concerned look. “I’m so sorry…”

He couldn’t hold back his smile anymore, his face softening as he noticed your concerned one. He quickly reassured you, not wanting you to worry. “Hey, hey, hey… I’m just kidding, baby. I’m not flunking my classes, don’t worry.”

He gave a grin, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Then, he added with a softer tone: “Though I do have a hard time focusing in class most of the time. I can’t seem to get a certain someone out of my mind…”

You furrowed your eyebrows playfully. “Who’s the girl?” you asked, pretending to be jealous.

He feigned an air of nonchalance, a playful smile on his face. “Oh, just this gorgeous, smart, amazing girl… she’s from overseas… and she’s the only thing that’s on my mind pretty much every single second of the day…”

He added, “But… there’s one small problem… she’s thousands of miles away, studying in a faraway country…”

He paused for a moment, looking at you through the screen, before continuing in a whisper: “Without me….”

“Just one more year, baby, and… I’ll come back in your arms again,” you said, your voice full of determination and love.

Only one more year. He could do that. One more year, and then you’d be back in his arms again. “I know, baby… I’m just being a whiny brat, you know that.”

“But one more year is such a long time… I need my daily dose of you to survive…” he pouted.

You smiled gently, reaching out to touch the screen again. “Just do what we do… call… give updates. We’ll get through this together. We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

He nodded in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. Calling each other, sending updates, receiving those adorable selfies from you that he was so hopelessly fond of—these were the threads keeping him from falling apart these past few years.

“Yeah… I’ve been trying to keep myself busy, you know. Classes, rugby, hanging out with friends…” He shrugged, then continued with a wry smile, “But I can’t lie, baby… it’s not the same without you here… nothing really is…”

He closed his eyes for a moment. The longing for you was a constant ache in his heart, a permanent state of being he couldn’t escape. He looked back at the screen, his eyes filled with yearning. “You’ve no idea how much I miss you… every single day… everywhere I go, I see something that reminds me of you.”

He paused again, his mind filling with memories of every little thing that reminded him of you. The tiny café where you two used to meet, the park where you had your first date, the small restaurant where he had taken you to celebrate the first anniversary of your relationship.

“I look around and all I see is just…” He faltered, the words getting stuck in his throat as he struggled to express his feelings. He shook his head, a bitter smile on his face as he finally managed to say, “Just empty spaces… spaces that are too empty without you in them.”

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, baby. I feel it too. It's like there's a part of me missing."

The weight of his loneliness felt especially heavy tonight, and he couldn’t quite keep it out of his voice as he continued, his tone slightly strained. “I know I’m being pathetic… I just… I don’t know… I guess I’m just feeling a bit extra lonely tonight. It’s been a long day, and… and I just wish you were here, you know? Just so I could hold you in my arms and…”

He trailed off, sighing softly as he tried to rein in his emotions. “Hey, baby? Do you want kids?”

“Why the sudden question?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He shrugged, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. I just saw these bunch of little kids playing in the park today… and I don’t know, it just got me thinking…” He trailed off, a small smile playing on his lips as he added in a murmur, “I bet our kids would be adorable…”

You smiled softly, feeling flutters as you replied, “I bet so too…”

He smiled wider at your words, the image of a future with you so clear in his mind. “Yeah… I can already imagine it… your eyes, my nose. A perfect combination.”

He let out a small laugh, imagining the little life you would create together. Then, his smile grew fonder as he added quietly,

“We should make a baby when you come back…”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush a deep red. Your heart raced at the unexpected comment. “Now now, we aren’t even married yet.”

Jungwon’s eyes twinkled with playful mischief as he chuckled. “I know, I know… but we’ve been together for six years, baby. We’re practically already an old married couple by now, don’t you think?”

He teased, then added with a serious but playful tone, “And I’m just planning ahead, that’s all. We gotta start early, you know. Kids take nine months to make.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. Your heart fluttered at the thought of building a future with him, but the suddenness of his proposal left you momentarily speechless. “Are you… are you serious about this?”

Jungwon’s expression softened, and he nodded, his gaze earnest. “Yes, I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I can’t wait for the day when we can finally be together and start a family.”

“We’ll get married first,” you said firmly, your cheeks still warm from his earlier words.

He nodded easily, his smile growing soft as he agreed to your condition. “Okay, okay. You have a deal then, baby. We’ll get married first. And we’ll have the biggest, most extravagant wedding you’ve always dreamed of. With hundreds of guests and the most expensive food.”

He chuckled again, then added as an afterthought, “And I’ll get you the biggest, prettiest ring as well. Nothing but the best for my bride.”

You giggled, feeling grateful to have him in your life. “Well, enough about weddings and kids. You should go to sleep, I just heard you yawn.”

He rolled his eyes, but a small smile still tugged at his lips at your insistence. He knew you were right, that he should be sleeping instead of staying up talking to you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to end the call.

“I’m fine, baby, really. I’m not even that tired.” He lied, knowing full well his yawn betrayed his words. He let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair as he added, “But fine, if you say so. I’ll go to bed…”

“I love you.” You puckered your lips on the screen. “Mwah.”

Jungwon chuckled, his face softening a bit more at your words and gesture. A small pang of longing tugged at his heart as he looked at your lips on the screen, wishing he could kiss you right now.

“I love you too, baby…” He mumbled, his gaze never straying from your face as he made a show of pouting his lips and kissing the screen in return. ‘’Mwah.’’

You smiled and ended the call, letting out a sigh as you stared at the dark screen. The distance was hard, but you knew that your love was worth every moment of waiting.

Jungwon smiled slightly as the call disconnected. But as the screen turned black, the familiar feeling of longing came over him once more. He missed you so much. He wanted to see your face, hear your voice. And he hated that he had to endure another year of separation.

“Good night, baby…” He whispered into the empty room, his voice tinged with sadness. “Sweet dreams.”

🩵

It had been a while. The time had been a rollercoaster—both stressful and exciting. University had consumed much of your time with its demands, yet the anticipation of seeing Jungwon kept you energized. You both eagerly awaited the day when you would finally be reunited after so many months apart.

Jungwon had been counting down the days. He didn’t know a year could feel both excruciatingly long and breathtakingly short at the same time.

Each day felt like a lifetime, yet every week seemed to fly by faster than the previous one. But the call of your imminent return kept him going. Even when times got tough, he just had to remember the countdown: just a few more days... A few more weeks... And you’d be back.

The day before you were scheduled to fly back, Jungwon was still in a state of eagerness. His heart was filled with both excitement and nervous energy. All he could think about was seeing you again, holding you in his arms after a year of separation. He just couldn’t wait.

He'd be waiting at the airport tomorrow, early in the morning, to welcome you back. He'd already planned it out: he’d pick you up, bring you back to his apartment, and then…

He let out a shy laugh, thinking about it, he could hardly concentrate on anything else. He'd spent the whole day feeling like a walking bundle of nerves, unable to focus on his classes or his rugby practice. He was just anxious to see you again.

Finally, as the sun set and the day came to an end, he was lying in bed, his phone in his hand as he waited for your usual nightly call. He hoped you’d have time to call, despite the hectic traveling.

He checked the time on his phone: it was almost 9 PM. You’d usually call by now… Had your flight been delayed?

He let out a small sigh, trying to suppress the disappointment and worry that was beginning to set in. He knew he should just wait patiently, that you’d probably call soon. But the thought of another night without hearing your voice felt torturous.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the apartment.

Jungwon lifted his head off his pillow, frowning slightly at the unexpected sound. Who would be knocking on his door at this hour?

He slowly got up from the bed, walking towards the door with both confusion and curiosity. He had expected to find a package or flyer at most. Instead, he pulled open the door to find…

You…standing right in front of him with you holding a luggage.

For a moment, he stood rooted in place, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing. Was he hallucinating? Was he dreaming? Because there’s no way you were here, in front of him, right now…

But the sight of your familiar face, your beautiful smile, and the luggage at your side slowly convinced him that this was not a dream. It was real. You were really here.

He couldn’t help it. The next thing he knew, he was taking a step forward and pulling you into his arms. Tears welled up in his eyes almost immediately.

“Hi baby,” you said, your voice trembling as you cried in his embrace.

Hearing your voice again, so close and real, broke the dam he had been holding back for the past year. The separation, the endless nights of missing you, the overwhelming longing—all of it came rushing out at once. He buried his face in your shoulder, his body shaking with sobs.

“I missed you so much,” he choked out between sobs. “So, so much.”

You held him tightly, your tears mingling with his. “I missed you too, Jungwon. Every single day.”

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hands cupping your face as if to ensure you were there. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder and relief.

You nodded, your smile bright despite the tears. “I’m home, Jungwon. I’m finally home.”

He kissed you then, a desperate kiss that spoke of all the days, weeks, months and years you had been apart. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you at that moment, reunited at last.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red but filled with a joy that had been absent for far too long. “Let’s get you inside,” he said softly, his voice full of tenderness. “I have so much to tell you, and I want to hear everything about your journey.”

🩵

You two were in the living room, sitting on his lap as you talked and talked. But then you cried again, and before you knew it, both of you were crying hard.

He let out a choked laugh as you tried to wipe away his tears. “I’m… I’m sorry… I can’t… stop…” he managed to get out between hiccups and sniffles.

Your tears flowed even harder, soaking into his shirt as you clung to him.

A fresh wave of guilt rushed over him. He knew he wasn’t the only one who had suffered from the separation. He wasn’t the only one who had missed each other this past year. He wasn’t alone in this.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know it was just as hard for you. I wish I could’ve been there more, done more…”

You shook your head, pressing a finger to his lips to stop him. “You did everything, Jungwon. You called, you wrote, you listened… you kept me going.”

He cupped your face, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “And you kept me going. Every day, every call, every letter… it was all for you.”

You kissed him then, a kiss full of all the love and longing that had built up over the year apart. When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as you both tried to calm down.

“We’re together now,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the tears. “And that’s all that matters.”

He nodded, his arms tightening around you. “Yes, we’re together. And I’m never letting you go again.”

You two kissed again, and before you knew it, he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued to kiss you deeply.

Without breaking the kiss, he carried you to his room…

🩵

Things slowly settled back into a sense of normalcy for the two of you. You had both started jobs in your respective fields, finally earning enough to live fairly comfortably.

And with the stability of secure jobs, the two of you finally found yourselves with more free time to spend together. Gone were the years of all-nighters and endless classes, replaced instead by lazy days off, dates at various places, and of course, plenty of time for more… intimate moments.

As you were busy organizing some paperwork on the dining table, a knock on the door interrupted your concentration. You opened it to find a familiar face from the neighborhood.

“Delivery for Mrs. Yang,” the person said with a smile.

“Thank you,” you replied with a warm smile, accepting the package before closing the door and placing it on the table.

Just then, a tiny voice came from behind you.

“Mommy? What is that?”

You turned to see your daughter, Hana, rubbing her sleepy eyes as she stood in her little pajamas. The sight of her, so small and adorable, made your heart swell with love.

“Oh Hana, my baby. This is just a package,” you said softly, kneeling to her level. You reached out and gently tousled her morning hair.

“Okay, mommy. I just woke up. I tried to wake up daddy in your room, but he won’t budge,” she said with a tinge of frustration, rubbing her eyes again.

You smiled at her concern, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “It’s alright, baby. I’ll handle it. Go sit on the chair and wait for us. I already made some breakfast.”

With a loving touch, you smoothed her hair and added, “Mommy will go upstairs and wake up daddy now.”

Hana nodded and shuffled off to the dining table, her little feet pattering across the floor. You then headed upstairs.

As you entered the bedroom, you saw Jungwon, still huddled under the covers, his face buried in his pillow. He looked completely unfazed by Hana’s earlier attempts to wake him.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him sleeping so peacefully, the sheets tangled around him, his hair messy from sleep.

Quietly, you walked over to the bed and sat down gently on the edge, trying your best not to disturb him. You reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair off his forehead, the touch ever so subtle and light. “My love, wake up,” you said softly.

Jungwon stirred slightly at the sound of your voice, his face still mostly buried in the pillow. He blinked a few times, slowly adjusting to the morning light filtering through the curtains.

“Mm… five more minutes…” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“No. Hana already tried to wake you up. It’s time to get up now,” you said, both firmness with gentleness.

Jungwon let out a low groan, clearly displeased at the interruption. But when you mentioned Hana, he sighed and slowly lifted his head, finally meeting your gaze.

“Okay, okay… I’m up…” He sat up, scratching his head and trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep.

“Good morning…” you said softly, smiling at his adorably groggy face.

He squinted at you, still struggling to wake up fully. After a moment, he managed a small, half-lidded smile and reached out to pull you closer, resting his head on your shoulder.

You couldn’t help but tease him gently. “How come you still smell like baby powder?”

Jungwon chuckled, burying his face in your neck. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I still smell like it. You know Hana loves rubbing her face against me.”

“No, even before we had Hana. You don’t wear perfume, but I swear you have that baby powder scent,” you pointed out.

He looked up at you, thoughtful for a moment before shrugging with a playful grin. “Well, maybe I’ve always had the baby powder scent. Or maybe it’s just my natural scent.”

He brushed a few strands of hair from your face, adding, “Either way, you’re the only one who notices it, baby.”

“How come I have a cute husband and a cute daughter? I’m blessed with cuteness,” you cooed at him, unable to contain your affection.

Jungwon chuckled again, clearly pleased with your praise. He ran his fingers through your hair and said, “Well, what can I say? We just happen to be the cutest little family in town.”

You were so overwhelmed with his cuteness that you couldn’t resist pecking him on the lips. He looked at you, a playful glint in his eyes, and said, “Are you trying to turn a simple morning wake-up into a makeout session?”

“No. Hana is waiting for us downstairs. I need breakfast, she needs breakfast, and you need breakfast,” you replied with a touch of firmness.

Jungwon pouted slightly and sighed dramatically, “Ugh, fine, fine… no making out then. Responsibilities and breakfast first.”

Reluctantly, he released you and pushed the covers off his legs, getting out of bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“We can make out later when we’re alone,” you said with a playful wink.

Jungwon gave you a lazy grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I’ll hold you to that promise later, babe. You can bet on it.”

You grinned back at him, reaching out to take his hand. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”

He followed you downstairs, still looking slightly sleepy but now with a spark of anticipation in his eyes. As you both entered the kitchen, you found Hana at the dining table, her small feet swinging back and forth as she waited eagerly for breakfast.

Seeing her parents, Hana’s face lit up with a radiant smile. “Daddy! Mommy!”

Jungwon’s tiredness faded instantly at the sight of his daughter’s cheerful face. He walked over, bending down to kiss Hana’s head. “Morning, munchkin. Sorry, I overslept this morning.”

Hana puffed out her cheeks in annoyance, though her love for him was evident. “You always oversleep, daddy! Why do you always sleep so much?”

Jungwon chuckled, pulling her into a one-armed hug as he sat beside her. “Blame your mother. She’s so beautiful, she keeps me up all night.”

“Yang Jungwon!” You scolded playfully.

“Hey, I’m just speaking the truth!” he protested with a grin. “It’s not my fault I have a gorgeous wife who keeps me awake.”

You shot him a mock scowl before turning your attention to Hana. You placed a plate of food in front of her, your expression softening. “Here you go, baby. Mommy made all of this for you.”

Hana’s eyes widened in delight at the sight of the food. “Yay, food! Thank you, mommy!” She immediately grabbed her utensils and began eating with gusto.

Jungwon watched this adorable scene with a smile, then turned to you with a grin. “I swear, she’s becoming more like you every day.”

You tilted your head in curiosity. “Like what?”

Jungwon chuckled, pointing his fork at you. “For starters, she’s got your stubborn streak. She always knows what she wants, just like you. And look at her dive into her food—just like you do.”

“And that’s a good thing,” you added, smiling at the comparison.

He nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Absolutely. She’s got all the best qualities from her mom.”

Jungwon laughed softly, watching Hana continue her breakfast. “But I have to wonder what other traits she’ll pick up from you as she grows older. I’m a bit scared, honestly.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. “Oh, just thinking about the future. I’m bracing myself for the teenage years when she’ll probably give us a hard time. Not to mention, as she gets older, she might develop your sass and attitude.”

“You’ll just have to handle it,” you said with a smirk.

Jungwon laughed, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Oh, I’m prepared for all the sass and attitude. But she’s already a little handful now, and she’s just a kid.”

He added with a sly grin, “Or maybe she’ll take after me and be the angel who balances out your sass.”

“You? An angel?” you teased.

Jungwon feigned offense, his eyes wide. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I can be an angel too, you know.”

He flashed a cheeky grin, his eyes sparkling. “But let’s be real—I’m practically a saint. I always give in to your requests.”

You rolled your eyes and served food onto his plate. “How about you stop yapping and start eating?”

He chuckled at your playful demand but complied, picking up his utensils and starting on his meal. “Alright, alright. I’ll zip it and eat… but only because you told me to, babe.”

He continued eating, occasionally glancing at you with a soft smile. You always knew how to get him under control. “Thank you for the meal.”

“Alright, after breakfast, we’ll drop Hana off at school and then we can enjoy a little free time,” you said, planning the rest of the morning.

Jungwon nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Sounds like a plan. Drop Hana off and then some time for us. I’m looking forward to it.”

He looked over at Hana, who was still happily eating her breakfast. “Hey, munchkin, finish up. It’s almost time to go to school.”

Hana nodded enthusiastically, her mouth full of food. “Okay, okay, I’m almost done, Daddy!”

Jungwon chuckled and patted her head affectionately before focusing back on his breakfast. The three of you enjoyed the meal together, the morning filled with warmth and love.

Long-distance relationships are tougher than you’d expect. But with Jungwon, every challenge made your time together even more precious.

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tallgirl14 · 8 months ago

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Chilchuck angst

I love this lil middle age man but i aslo live for angst so her are few my ideas because I need tell someone and if you have angst dm me we can talk about it

He carries a wallet size family portrait (when his girls were little) with him when he goes down in a dungeon, and he looks at it when he miss them. ( I feel like photos are probably pretty 💰💰 so they only had few consist wedding photo, baby photo mayjack she's fist born, then one of the whole family ) and this photo is chaotic and It makes him smile.

This is the ONLY photo he has of his entire family and he hasent seen them in few years with his kids grown living there own lives and him and his wife are split this photos all he's got.

How far would this man go for this picture. I can see chilchuck getting badly hurt because he went back to grab it and as Marcille is lecturing him about his reckless action as she's healing him.

Marcille: "What could have been so important that you risk your life over??"

Chilchuck: "my family or what's left of it"

He shows her the photo and marcille feels her heart drop she finally got to learn something about him and its sad ( this miscommunication leads to his group to believe chil family is dead )

Chilchuck taught Mayjack how to pick locks, and in the manga, he says when he dies, if they need someone, she'd be their first choice. SO he obviously took her through dungeon showing her how to navigate because being locksmith in a shop vs. dungeon is night & day different, dungeon being high pace environment.

Could you imagine how traumatizing that would be if saw her dad die in front of her AND NOT KNOW THEY COULD BE REVIVED!! (Seeing anyone die would be scaring) Especially if she felt it was her fault.

At first, Mayjack was curious about going into a dungeon with her dad to see exactly what he does she rember as kid seeing him come home late tired excused but mostly worn down.

Whenever she asked him about his work as a kid he was always vague or if he did talk about it was pg version and normally he was just trying scare us about going into dungeon. BUT one thing he made very clear, he didn't want any of her or her sister near the dungeon, but now that she's an adult, he couldn't stop her.

" I still don't want you near the dungeon, but you are a skilled locksmith, so you would be valued and well paid. IF you're still interested, I'll have you shadow me on my next small job so you can see what it's like."

At first, it was like any job we met with the client went over to the terms dad took payment, and then we headed over to the dungeon. I was awestruck by the new environment, but it quickly became overstimulating it took me a moment to adjust. the first few levels, dad had pointed out things to avoid what were scams & how to detect traps and walked me through a few I felt confident. Most importantly, when talking jobs, always have a skilled healer. Now I realize why as we enter new room dad was working on trap I was observing the room when I noticed treasure chest peaking out corner not knowing it was a mimick.

Chilchuck was Halfway through picking his lock when his dad sense went off. He quickly looked around room and spotted may messing with mimick

Chilchuck: "MAYJACK TIMS! get away from that!!" He starts running towards her

May turned to look at her dad, confused " why I already unlocked it?"

Her body stiffened as she could feel presents inside the chest, but before mimick could attach, chilchuck pushed her out of the way taking damage as it jabbed one of its claws through his neck causing him to bleed everywhere all mayjack could do was watch in horror paralyzed with fear trying process what happened. One of group members took care of mimick while she scrambled to her feet to get to here dad trying to put pressure on his wound tears flooding out

"Nonononno im sorry I'm sorry 🥺 "

As chilchuck lay there dying, he was more concerned with the fact he could comfort his daughter. This wasn't how he wanted to see death for the first time. Afterwards, the healer from their group came over and assured her he was going to be fine as she worked on reviving him.

Chilchuck let out a gasp and cough out some blood that had remained stuck in his throat. He turns to mayjack " that's why I told you to stay near me..." He moves toward her noticing her hands are strained with his blood. " are you hurt?... may? "

She shakes her head, and tears start to fall down her face he pulls her in for a hug. " it's ok, I'm ok ... I'm right here. " she hugs him tight, and they stay in that embrace for a while. When they finally break the hug, chilchuck wipes tears from her face.

" im sorry you saw that... do you want to go home.? "

" but the job?"

Chilchuck shakes his head " don't worry about it I brought someone along for that exact reason"

#my fanart #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #anime #hc #angst #chilchuck #chilchuck tims

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thebiggerbear · 1 year ago

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Something Real

Summary: You had offered him the chance for something the two of you could build, something real, if he gave up the suit for good.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, character death, implied violence, implied injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of terminal illness/treatments/effects, implied sex, Soldier Boy being himself at times, language (I guess?), tears, heartbreak - I think that pretty much covers everything

Word Count: 9434

A/N: Something I started writing back on Thanksgiving. I was hurting that day, needing heat to ease the pain, and I was working on something else for SB. This just popped into my head (the idea of "warm hands") so I ran with it. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I picked the name Violet because it's a bit of a reference to the other SB story I'm working on. Please let me know what you think (and please don't kill me).

I heard this song on a Soldier Boy fan edited video on YouTube and ever since then I can't get it out of my head for this one shot. It just makes me see Ben and the reader that much clearer in my mind.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

“I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Ben could feel his devastation threatening to overwhelm him but he quickly forced it away. He had to be strong for you; no time to be a pussy.

As if you had heard his thoughts, you gave him a sad smile, your own eyes starting to blur with unshed tears that you were trying to hold back yourself, not wanting to make this worse for him than you already knew it would be. But then it suddenly hit you that life was indeed short; what did it matter if you let your feelings surrounding your current circumstances show? You had never held back before. Why would you start now? So you let your tears flow but you did your best to turn them into happy tears so whenever he thought back to this moment, he wouldn’t see how scared or sad you really were. You were determined for him to never know the true depths of your fear or despair in this moment.

Instead, you weakly lifted your hand and placed it against his cheek, watching as he briefly closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His green gaze settled on you once more and you could have sworn you could see a slight shimmer there but in the next moment, it was gone, so you couldn’t be entirely sure.

Both of you were having flashes of the same memories that your words brought to mind.

You were both in bed, naked, you laying sprawled out over him, having just made love for the second time that evening. Ben always called it fucking but you refused to use that word to describe what the two of you did. Sure, he fucked you sometimes but things were more serious between you than you just being a bedwarmer of his or some random pussy for him to stick his dick into and get off as he’d crudely put it.

They had been ever since you’d caught him by surprise one night after too much whiskey mixed with conversation and you kissed him ever so sweetly. He’d tried to turn it into something else — because he was who he was after all — but you wouldn’t let him. Something changed between you that night and an understanding began to form. If he wanted you, then he’d have to give up everything that wouldn’t allow him to keep you. That meant the women, the drugs, the bad behavior — all of it. You weren’t trying to change him, not at all, but you knew those things weren’t really the true make-up of who he was; it was a mere reflection of the suit and persona Vought encouraged, expected, and enforced. Ben made his own choices of course, but you knew he could do better, be better. And that’s who you wanted; that’s who you loved — the man that belonged with you, not the Supe that belonged to a greedy corporation and the world. But it would have to be up to him to make that final choice. You made that perfectly clear and told him to come to you when he was ready, ready for something real.

And sure enough, despite his keeping away for a while to prove a point, he eventually ended up on your doorstep that night three years ago, dressed in modern day clothing and cleaned up in all manners of the phrase. Ben was ready. He wanted you, he wanted real and most of all, he wanted it with you.

You’d been together ever since and while things hadn’t been perfect, they’d been perfect enough for the both of you. So here you were, laid out in bliss, listening to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear as his hands glided up and down your bare back. You closed your eyes, smiling, and murmured, “I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Instead of answering you, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there, as he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer into him. He held you like that for a little while until you could feel him stirring beneath you once more and his caresses turned more insistent before he rolled you onto your back, his kisses feverish as you both started your third round of lovemaking for the night. Supe stamina and all that.

You winced as you felt another sharp kick to your stomach. “Damn,” you muttered.

Ben’s eyes were immediately on you, worried. “What?”

“Nothing,” you tried to lie but another kick had you flinching.

He laid down the wrench he had been battling the pipes with and wiped his hands with a rag before making his way over to you. “The kid kicking you again?”

A third kick had your face screwed up in a grimace as you nodded. His jaw tightened and he urged you down onto the sofa before joining you and holding you from behind. He lifted your shirt above your belly and you both watched in fascination as there was a slight movement to it right before you hissed in pain and bit your lip to keep from crying out. Ben lowered his hands and began to rub your skin soothingly. The pain eased and like always, your baby started to settle down, something it did whenever it sensed its father’s strong presence. You assumed it was a Supe thing, since your kid would have half of those V-mutated genes, and you refused to let that worry you in the slightest. There was no guarantee your child would have superpowers like its dad though you wouldn’t be surprised if it inherited his strength if these painful kicks were anything to go by. Either way, you’d cross that superpower bridge if and when you came to it.

You let out a breath of relief and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against Ben’s shoulder. “I seriously forgot how warm your hands are,” you whispered, enjoying how the warmth both settled your child and you at the same time.

“Don’t know how,” he murmured into your ear. “I hardly ever take them off you.”

You smiled wider at his teasing and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, humming your contentment. After a moment, you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an affectionate smirk. You lifted up and gently kissed him. “I love you.”

His smirk melted into a smile and he leaned down to kiss you one more time. “Back at you, doll.”

And almost as if your child wanted a say, to agree with the sentiments exchanged between both parents, it kicked against Ben’s hand albeit more gently this time, not causing any pain.

You grinned as you watched Ben teach your daughter, Violet, how to make a snowman. Which really meant he was making it for her. She had her father completely wrapped around her little finger. If there was anything that could bring Soldier Boy to his knees, it was his little girl. The strongest Supe in the world was at the mercy of the whims of your six year old.

You both had been surprised when the child you’d both eagerly been anticipating turned out to be a girl. You were excited — you’d always wanted a little girl. Ben — you weren’t sure how he would react. His heart had been set on a boy and while you could see a faint layer of disappointment shadowing his expression when you heard the doctor’s announcement, the moment he and your newborn daughter locked eyes, he was hers. It turned out you had nothing to worry about, on any counts.

He had promised you he would be better than his father and thus far he’d lived up to that promise. While you both had discussed extensively what type of parenting style you’d be implementing, you weren’t sure what would happen when the tough days of parenthood would hit. And while he had come a long way from his antiquated mindset (which had been beyond painful for the both of you back in the early days of you moving in together), you wanted to make sure that none of that would ever touch your child, literally and figuratively. But it turned out, you really had nothing to worry about. There were only a few instances that you had to gently remind him that it wasn’t the 1940’s anymore and each time he’d apologized, and set about making it right however he could.

Ben pleasantly surprised you in being there for all of the night time feedings, being willing to change a diaper after you’d eventually forced the issue and he found out that it wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be, and taking her from you so you could sleep, shower, or get some time for yourself when he realized he wouldn’t break her. Her tiny form made him nervous and all the more careful. He held her hand when she started walking, read to her at bedtime (even though he secretly told you later there was a lot of pussy bullshit stories the world had available for kids these days), and beamed when one night she’d sleepily hugged him and whispered that Daddy was her hero after a particular conversation they’d had about a story he was reading, when she asked why the main character was going to fight the dragon. “Because he’s the hero, sweetness, and heroes fight the monsters.” You’d found him later standing at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep, an expression of sadness mixed with realization in his face.

You’d wrapped yourself around his arm, hugging him, as you joined him in his study of your daughter. “You okay?” You whispered after a moment.

He looked unsure how to answer you so you gave him a little time to think of what he wanted to say, smiling as you noticed your daughter’s quiet breathing, her little lips curled up in the cutest pout as she dreamed — of what you had no idea but you hoped it was warm and wonderful and everything she could possibly want in her four and a half years of life.

“She said I was her hero,” Ben admitted quietly.

You turned to glance up at him and caught the furrow of his brows.

“I’m not really a hero, though.” He pressed his lips together. “Not with the things I’ve done.”

You slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers, and squeezed. “Then be one.”

His eyes snapped over to you in question.

You gently framed his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Ever since you decided you wanted something different from what you had before, you have made better decisions every single day. Who you were back then, Ben…that’s not who you are now. So if you want to be a hero,” You briefly glanced at your sleeping daughter. “Her hero, then be one.”

Ben contemplated your words as you released him and his eyes drifted over the child that had somehow carved herself into his heart in a way that the fucked-up Homelander or the idea of any kid of his that possibly existed out there never had. He was already trying every single day to be better, for her, for you, for himself — and it was something he would keep doing.

“But just so you know,” you whispered to him. “No matter if you wear the suit or you’re just plain ol’ Daddy who reads her stories and threatens the monsters in her closet before she goes to bed each night, you’re already going to be her hero.” You gave him a soft smile and watched as your words played out upon his face. His lips lifted up slightly in the corners and he ran his tender glance over his little girl. It surprised you though when he then turned that smile and gaze onto you.

He marveled at just how simple you made it all sound sometimes. Not that you hadn’t acknowledged his effort or the strides he’d made in attempting to be a better father than his old man — a better man period — but he secretly admired when you gave it to him straight, no bullshit, no matter the subject. And while he wanted his daughter to always see him as the hero she called him earlier, he was grateful that you made sure to make such a distinction in your words: he didn’t have to put the suit back on to be his little girl’s hero. That’s not who she saw him as anyway. She saw him as her hero because he was her dad — and that was enough for her.

There were times like this where he’d remember exactly why he chose to give everything up for you, why he chose you. You’d seen past the suit, past his public persona, saw all of the good and even more of the bad, and yet you still chose him first, still loved him, and still gave him the family he’d been craving even if it wasn’t how he’d imagined it for years on end. You gave him exactly what you’d promised if he chose you back: something real. And Christ did he love you for it.

Ben had never been very good at saying the three words that seemed to take no effort whatsoever to roll off your tongue every single day, even when it came to your daughter. While he might have had no issue speaking his mind back in the day, when it came to the two important things in his life, he struggled to put into words exactly how he felt about you two or to return the sentiment because it was unfathomable to him. He had never known that he could feel the love he did as a husband, a true partner, never mind as a parent. You both were his world and he wasn’t sure how he’d function without either of you in it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he functioned before either of you came along though a small dark part of him knew the answer to that: booze, drugs, sex, violence, and enjoying the Supe high life all combined. But right now, he was feeling that overwhelming feeling again that he hesitated to put a name to but deep down knew what it was. However, instead of just being able to say it, just once, he did the second best thing like he did every time you made him feel like this: he showed you.

He took your hand in his, squeezing, and glanced once more at Violet. Noting again that she was sleeping soundly, he then turned his attention onto you and led you from the room. Once her door was shut, he was on you, his kisses passionate and insistent yet desperate, his hands hungrily trailing your body, before he picked you up and walked you down the hall to your bedroom.

So watching him now making the snowman your daughter wanted — old hat, scarf, pipe, and all — you were amused but also couldn’t be prouder. Ben had heard you that night and he had chosen to be the hero his little girl wanted him to be: her dad while also being a good man and someone she could be proud of. It didn’t erase his past but it was just another step in the right direction towards his future. The suit was still hidden away in a closet but he hadn’t pulled it out for which you were also immensely grateful. Vought International and The Seven had been annihilated years ago at the same time Homelander had been killed. Supes had scattered across the globe, now not being run by one single entity anymore. Some had world governments after them for crimes they had committed previously and were still committing to this day. Compound V as well as Temp V had now unfortunately hit the streets so random fresh Supes were turning up everywhere. The world certainly had its hands full when it came to the whole Supe thing. Maybe it was incredibly selfish of you but you were relieved when Ben chose to stay out of the fray and instead concentrate on living the life he’d chosen to live with you and focus on your family.

Your grin grew when your daughter excitedly hurried over to you. “Mama, mama! Did you see the snowman Daddy made?”

“I did, kiddo. He looks great.” You arched a brow over at the snowman though when you noticed something. “Well, just a tiny bit lopsided, but that’s okay. It gives him character.”

Ben huffed, appearing next to you. “I don’t make lopsided snowmen.” He then turned to Violet. “Your mother needs to have her eyes checked.”

“Hey,” you cried out indignantly. “Who are you telling to get their eyes checked, old man? Considering it’s a lop-sided snowman, I say you should get yours checked.”

Ben flashed his teeth in a grin. “My eyes are perfect, like everything else about me.” You couldn’t help your eye roll though in your estimation, he wasn’t too far off the mark. Never aging thanks to Compound V would do that to someone you guessed. You tried not to be too envious when you remembered back to the few gray hairs you’d managed to find coming from your scalp a few weeks back.

Violet was giggling watching the two of you and you couldn’t help but join in her merriment. “Sure,” you teased. “So instead of Frosty the Snowman, we’ll call him Skewy the Off-Balance Snowman?”

Ben sent you a mock glare and you shrugged, smiling, making your daughter laugh again. He handed an old ratty coat to her. “Vi, why don’t you put on the finishing touches so your mom can stop being a critic and finally appreciate our hard work?”

“What? I am appreciating it. I even appreciate that you have to tilt your head a bit to see it straight. Off-kilter is all the rage now, I get it. See? I’m appreciating it.”

Your daughter grinned and took the proffered coat before rushing back over to the snowman.

Hands suddenly on your hips whipped you around and Ben was on you before you could utter another word. He kissed you hard and you swore you could see stars when he finally pulled back, letting you catch your breath. He smirked down at you, muttering “Pain in the ass” good-humoredly, before you both caught movement out of the corner of your eye. You both glanced over in time to see your daughter leap gracefully into the air to toss the coat onto the tall snowman. Ben’s smile was proud and you watched in awe as she landed lithely back down on the ground. As you had wondered often enough when pregnant with her, your daughter had inherited some Supe DNA from her father after all. Something you and Ben both worked hard with her to keep tamped down when in the presence of other children and especially their parents. Your life was blissfully lowkey, normal (as normal as it could be with two Supes in the house), and safe — you and Ben both wanted to keep it that way and you both especially wanted to make sure your daughter’s life continued in that fashion as well. You didn’t want your daughter to be ashamed of her special abilities and Ben was able to teach her restraint, something he had to teach himself long before she was born.

Ben watched as she used her strength to shift the snowman a little to the left so it would indeed be a little straighter. He rolled his eyes at your triumphant smirk but his smile never left as he cupped your face between his hands. “There. Happy?”

“More than you know,” you answered honestly. His smile faded slightly when he realized you meant more than the adjustment to his recent snow creation. You saw an all-too familiar internal struggle play out in his eyes that you had seen often enough over the years, especially lately. When he was making love to you; when he quietly watched you and your daughter working on her homework together; when he found you in the kitchen late at night when you couldn’t sleep and without speaking you’d turn on a slow song from his era and hold out an expectant hand to him; when you wrapped your arms around him from behind in a hug and snuck in underneath his arm as both of you observed Violet playing out in the yard with the dog she’d managed to convince you both to get — you knew what that struggle was and while it might have bothered another spouse that he never properly vocalized his feelings, you more than understood. How could you not after you knew how Ben had grown up, what he’d been taught? He’d made tons of strides over the years to undo all of that programming, but this…this was the hardest for him, and you knew why. So you didn’t push and instead willingly took what he gave you, knowing he was doing the best he could to show you how he felt instead.

You pushed yourself up on your toes and kissed him. “I love you, too,” you whispered, letting him know it was okay; you knew. You felt his thumb glide along your bottom lip as he studied you intently, and you could feel the heat radiating on the sides of your face. “I always forget how warm your hands are.”

He gave you a suggestive smirk. “You better not have forgotten how warm the rest of me is.”

“Might need a reminder,” you murmured, leaning into him.

His smirk widened. “Then you’ll get one.” He kissed you and before you could get too carried away, the sounds of your daughter giggling and calling “Daddy” had you both pulling apart. “Later,” he promised, pecking your lips one last time before looking over at Violet and the snowman whose apparel had changed to wearing her coat and hat instead.

Ben gave her an indulgent smile. “What’d you do, Princess?” Violet giggled again and her father shook his head as he headed over to her. You watched as he picked her up, tickling her and making her squeal in laughter, and you smiled. Life really didn’t get much better than this.

You laughed yourself when Violet tried to tickle Ben back.

Not by a long shot.

You gave your husband a tired smile when he walked into the room.

“Did she get to school okay?” You asked.

He nodded and removed his coat, hanging it up on the empty hook on the wall.

“And you gave her the envelope I left on the table, right? The one that had her pictures and money for the yearbook?”

“Yeah,” he gruffed out, taking the empty seat next to you and ignoring the curious stares directed his way. Ben was huge and even though he hadn’t been recognized in years, his hulking stature still attracted inquisitive gazes every now and then.

“Good. Thank you for doing that.”

He took your free hand and frowned when you involuntarily shivered.

Your smile was immediately apologetic. “I always forget how warm your hands are.” You gently gestured to your head where a cold cap sat. “This is freezing so with your hands, it felt like I stuck mine over a fire for a second.”

His frown intensified but he let your hand go.

“No, no, it’s fine.” You grabbed at his fingers and intertwined them with yours once again. “I like warm.” You then tried to give him a flirtatious smile. “You know that.”

His responding smile was more of a grimace but he kept his hand in yours. “There anything you need?”

You noticed that once again, he was hardly making eye contact with you while you were receiving treatment. You hated it when he did that though you understood. He hated to see you like this, knowing there was nothing he could do to help you. Correction, nothing you would let him do that is.

You’d found a lump in your breast during a self-exam and you’d gotten it checked out right away. More examinations and tests later, it was confirmed: you had cancer. Thankfully, it was not the aggressive kind but your doctor wanted to go after the tumor just as if it was anyway. Your daughter was only in high school; of course, you agreed to whatever plan the doctor suggested. So now here you were, getting chemo after a successful removal of the tumor.

Ben and Violet had been worried but you assured them that you would be fine, even if you didn’t know that to be true. Ben kept it together in front of your daughter, but once she had gone to bed, you could tell that even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared shitless. He knew what cancer meant like everyone else but he didn’t understand the mechanics of the treatments you would be receiving or the rates of survival depending on the ability to remove the tumor and keeping it from spreading versus the percentage rate of success of said surgery and treatments. He asked you question after question after question which you tried your best to answer while trying to keep from falling apart yourself. Eventually, he got frustrated and assured you he would get a hold of some Compound V. Though the government was still currently fighting the sale of the drug on the black market, they had to have some locked away for evidence or testing or they were just simply hoarding it. And if that didn’t work, he planned to track some down and get you a vial. Even if it was only Temp V.

You were horrified at this suggestion. “Ben, no. I’m not taking that stuff!”

“Why? It’ll make you healthy! It’ll get rid of this fucking cancer! Why wouldn’t you take it?”

“I can think of several reasons. If you break in somewhere to steal it, you can get caught and thrown into some max security prison or CIA black op site that I’ll never be able to get to, never mind being able to find, where they’ll keep you locked down with that gas! Or if you get it off of the street or from the black market, you have no idea if it’s been tampered with or if they’ve laced it with anything else. Temp V is completely out of the question, from a legit source or not. Not to mention, we don’t even know if this would work. It might not heal me or it could even kill me instead. That’s why!”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it, Ben.”

His eyes were darker than usual and he looked as if he was about to say something that you probably would both end up regretting. And sure enough, he did. “You’re fucking taking it and that’s it.”

“Excuse me?” You hissed. “This is my life we’re talking about. My life, my decision!”

“We are your life, goddammit!” He roared. Your eyes began to burn as you held back tears and he noticed the familiar sheen in them. When he spoke next, his tone was a bit quieter but no less firm. “So, it’s our decision. You’re taking it and that’s final.”

He had stormed out of the house after that and you had burst into tears. You knew he could hear you but he didn’t come back. You’d cried out all of the fear and anguish and despair you’d felt since receiving your diagnosis.

It was only later that night when Ben crawled into bed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his body, that he whispered an apology into your ear. You squeezed his forearm, letting him know you’d forgiven him.

“If I can get a hold of some, will you please take it?” He begged.

You thought it over for a moment, weighed the risks heavily against the rewards that it could yield, and then shook your head. “No. It’s too risky. It could kill me, Ben. At least with the surgery and chemo, I have better odds.”

“What if I gave you some of my blood?” You heard his voice break near the end of his question and that shocked you. The entire time you’d known the man, he had never once cried. Not in front of you, at least.

You slowly turned in his arms and while you didn’t see any tears, you saw the shimmer in his green eyes along with pure, unadulterated fear that you’d only seen rare glimpses of over the years: during your pregnancy; the birth; when Violet was a baby and he held her small body in his too big arms, afraid he might break her; when you’d gotten into that car accident on the way to Vi’s dance recital that left you with a few scrapes and bruises; the one time a new Supe in the making claimed to the media that he didn’t believe the death rumors and he was hunting Soldier Boy down in order to prove himself as the strongest Supe which ended up with Ben relocating your family to somewhere even more lowkey (you’d had to talk him out of going to find that damn kid and teaching him a lesson). But now, here it was, naked and laid out plain for you to see. You’d been right; he was scared shitless.

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair and he briefly turned to kiss your wrist. “We have two different blood types. It wouldn’t work.”

“I could find a scientist that’ll make it work. With all of these watered-down Supes running around, you can’t tell me there isn’t another Vogelbaum out there somewhere studying them. I could nab him and make him help us.”

You gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t work like that. This isn’t something that can be fixed by some mad scientist or some miracle superhero-making drug.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please…”

He laid a hand against your face and stared into your eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.” You heard the breaks in his voice again.

A tear slipped down your cheek and he gently wiped it away with his thumb. “One day, you’re going to. Whether it’s now or later, it’s inevitable.”

You could see how hard that hit him, even though you both had known this truth for some time. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought up the possibility of you taking Compound V in your relationship and it wasn’t the first time you’d refused.

He wanted to keep you with him, always. You didn’t want to live forever and once Violet came along, you definitely didn’t want to outlive your daughter. And that was only if the drug was successful and didn’t outright kill you. Not to mention, even if it was successful, who was to say that it would work for you the same way it worked for Ben? Perhaps you could still easily be killed or you would still age. Perhaps your abilities would be completely different to his. He’d offered to get you some Temp V to preview what it would do, but after what you’d seen happen to Billy Butcher from taking that stuff, you refused.

Now, having cancer, as much as that terrified you, you still didn’t want to risk it. The doctors knew you wanted to see your daughter graduate high school. That was enough for you, for now.

You’d watched as Ben compulsively swallowed and pulled you up to meet him. He kissed you and you could feel the desperation, this time layered by a whole new level of it. He’d made love to you that night, the most tender in his touches and movements since the accident. He took his time with you and even though fear clung thickly to both of you, by the end, you felt loved and cherished and warm.

Such a contrast to how you were feeling now. You let out another involuntary shiver and Ben frowned over at you. By now, he would have picked you up and deposited you on his lap, wrapping you in his embrace to warm you up. But he couldn’t due to the goddamn machine and tubing you were connected to. So instead, he got up and laid another blanket over you, leaning in to murmur into your ear, “When we get home, I’ll warm you up.”

He pulled back with a wicked smirk and you gave him a grateful smile before he returned to his seat. You knew he only meant that he would hold you until you warmed up or until he had to pick up your daughter. You were much too tired for anything else, especially after each treatment, something you hated but it couldn’t be helped. You missed being intimate with him, you missed having the energy to do your usual flurry of picking up after your family around the house, you missed being the one to take Violet to school every morning — you missed it all. You lived your life as normally as possible but the tiredness, the lack of energy, the sickness, the effects this drug had on your system…sometimes it was beyond frustrating and that was putting it nicely. But Ben and Vi had been there through it all, ready to help and step in wherever needed. Violet did her chores like always but she also helped her dad whenever he would allow her to. And Ben…well, he had really stepped up. There were zero complaints that men shouldn’t be doing the laundry or the cooking (something that had been a leftover contention point from the early days of your relationship). He did his best to help Vi with her schoolwork if she had any questions and you were napping. He did the picking up around the house now and he took care of you when you got sick, his nose no longer scrunching up at the smell of vomit (something you had noticed when you had morning sickness and he sat with you, rubbing your back; he later explained to you just how sharp his sense of smell was). He did everything you asked him to and even things you didn’t. He had been a pillar of strength and support that you hadn’t even known you’d needed in the beginning.

When he took your hand again, you carefully lifted his and kissed the back of it. “I love you,” you whispered, smiling as you nuzzled his warm skin.

He watched you, a familiar struggle taking place inside of him as a tell-tale shimmer started in his eyes that he didn’t want you to see. By the time you opened yours and looked over at him, the shimmer was gone and a tender smile was in place. “Back at you, dollface.” He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, staying like that a bit longer than he usually would have. You thought he was telling you what he still couldn’t put into words and he was. But he was also doing his best to warm you up. He’d felt the cold when you’d kissed his hand and rubbed your lips against it. Cold wasn’t something he felt easily so if he felt it, then he knew just how cold you really were. He hated these treatments, how sick they made you, how cold those damn caps made you (at this point, he didn’t care if you lost your hair, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you and he just wanted you warm and alive), he hated that there wasn’t anything he could to make you better — he hated it all. He meant what he’d said to you, when he got you home, he was going to strip you both down and hold you under the thickest, biggest blanket he could find in your house until it was time to pick up Vi from soccer practice. Warming you up, now that was something he could do. Which is exactly why he made sure to keep his lips connected to yours until the ice cold feeling disappeared and some color came back into them. He stared into your eyes, making you a silent promise that he would always chase the cold away and he would keep you here with him, warm, for as long as he could.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, not caring in the least that you might have an audience with other patients and their family members or nurses. You loved Ben with everything you had; you didn’t care who knew it or even saw it.

“Oh, come on!”

You could hear Ben’s chuckle from the other room and you smiled.

“You cheated!”

“No, I didn’t,” Ben insisted, sounding offended.

“Yes, you did! Dad, admit it!”

“Oh and you didn’t? Those bombs came out of nowhere, right?”

You heard your daughter groan. “It’s battle mode, Dad. You’re supposed to battle it out!”

“We did and I won.” You could practically see the triumphant smile on your husband’s face.

“Yeah, by cheating. What do you think, Rose?”

You could hear the poor girl practically stuttering out her response, trying not to offend either party. “Uh, I think it was…pretty fair…”

“What?” Violet yelled. “You call what he did fair?”

“Y-Yes?”

Ben let out another chuckle. “I knew I liked you, kid.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. The two most competitive members of your family had decided to play a video game while you were cooking to help pass the time. Vi had offered to help but you shooed her away since she had brought a friend home with her for the holiday. Ben had looked over at you expectantly, wondering what you would ask him to do, but you’d simply put a beer in his hand and sent him off to entertain the girls. He’d tried to hide his relief as he made his escape but you saw right through him. Thankfully, he didn’t see your own relief. You loved that Ben would do whatever you asked of him when it came to the kitchen, but sometimes he had his own way of doing things (from the time you’d been sick) and it clashed with yours. So, for a meal this large, as much as you loved him, you’d prefer for him to be out of the way. While it was a lot of work, your time to yourself in here was peaceful and you were amused at the bickering you overheard between Ben and Vi. Video games, board games, puzzles — it didn’t matter. If they were involved, there was bound to be claims of cheating by one of them or both, and massive competitive drives. You’d learned long ago to let them battle it out while you would be happy to be in 3rd place in Mario Kart or own St. Charles Place and maybe a railroad during a round of Monopoly. Most of all, though, you loved spending time with your two favorite people in the world, whether they were bickering over a game or competing against each other for a pixelated trophy on the television screen.

You heard voices start to rise slightly, Violet’s in particular. Someone else might have been nervous, especially for the young girl who was your guest, considering two Supes were locking horns, but you weren’t worried. Vi was now in college and thankfully, you’d been in remission for a couple of years. If your family had managed to survive that, you knew they’d overcome any argument over something as silly as who won a race between a plumber and a mushroom man.

But just in case, you called out, “Guys, remember it’s just a game, please. We have a guest.”

Sure enough, Violet lowered her voice but you could still hear her accusing her father who scoffed his denials. You rolled your eyes in amusement.

It wasn’t long before you felt strong arms wrap around you from behind, and lips pressed against your neck. “And the victor returns,” you murmured, smiling and leaning back into him.

“Mm-hmm,” Ben hummed against your skin. “He wants his spoils.” You felt him attempting to lift the hem of your dress and you slapped his hands away.

“Ben,” you hissed. “Not right now with our daughter and her friend in the next room.”

He didn’t let you deter him; he was determined. “Then let’s go upstairs while this bird cooks. The kids can entertain themselves for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?” You teased. “You mean like this morning?”

Ben had sweet talked you into sneaking out to the garage after you set everything up and put the turkey in the oven. He’d had you up against the hood of your car, his hand covering your mouth as he went to town on you, both of you in a hurry because he’d heard your daughter starting to wake up on the floor above you.

Instead of being insulted or rolling his eyes and glaring over at you, a dirty smirk settled onto his face. “Mmm, that was hot. You were hot. So hot I want to lift this dress up and do that thing with my—”

A loud throat clearing coming from the other room had you both straightening up. Right. Your daughter shared super senses with her father. Whoops. “Uh, Mom? Is dinner ready yet?”

“Uh.” You quietly cleared your throat yourself as you moved away from Ben, making him frown. “Not for another two hours or so.” You had just checked the turkey before you’d been interrupted.

“Okay, well, Rose and I are going to go walk outside for a bit. We’ll be back.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Be careful and make sure to take your coats. It’s cold out,” you warned.

Violet laughed. “Yes, Mom.”

She must have said something too quiet for you to hear because Ben suddenly went rigid. “Listen to your mother,” he added for good measure.

Another laugh. “Sure, Dad.”

You continued prepping dinner and once you heard the front door shut, Ben was on you. “Ben,” you laughed. “I don’t have time!”

He picked you up and moved you to the one area of counter space that wasn’t covered. “Yeah, you do. There’s always time for a quickie.”

“A quickie? Another one of Ben’s infamous life rules?”

He lifted the skirt of your dress over your thighs and quickly worked your underwear down your legs. “Another one of my infamous life rules with you.” You and Ben were used to having the house to yourselves so anywhere, anytime had become a sort of routine you two had. You missed Violet tremendously but you also had time to physically reconnect with your husband.

Almost as if he heard the direction your thoughts were going in, he framed your face with his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You gave him a grateful smile. The truth was, while you were grateful to be in remission and for more time with your family, you had worried about the toll chemo had taken on your body as well as your sex drive. The doctor assured you that while it would take time, there was a good chance you would start to feel normal again. Ben had been understanding but you had been frustrated. However, the doctor was right; it took a while but you started to feel back to normal, libido included.

Luckily, you hadn’t lost a lot of your hair, the cold caps having helped, and once the treatments were over, whatever was gone did indeed grow back. Unfortunately, a lot of gray hair also came with it. You’d wanted to dye it back to your original color but Ben urged you not to. “You look fucking sexy as hell with it,” he’d murmured before you watched him nibble on your ear in the bathroom mirror. You knew his preference for older women, something you knew before you’d even gotten together, walking into the bar you’d found him in and seeing him making out with a grandma one time. So you knew your aging wasn’t an issue; he’d told you often enough that he didn’t care how old you got, he only wanted you. That was why he had wanted you to take Compound V, far before your diagnosis, because he wanted to be with you forever, or as long as forever would be given your actual life span and his. But you were still struggling with all of the changes your body had gone through in the last couple of years and you’d broken down into sobs, letting your face fall into your hands. He’d held you and whispered reassurances into your ear that everything was going to be okay.

And thankfully, he had been right. It had all turned out to be okay. You’d gotten to see Violet graduate, you’d gotten to go on campus tours with her as she decided on a college, you got to drive up with her and Ben to move her into her dorm room, you’d gotten to spend more time with your husband who loved you deeply — you’d gotten more time period.

And here you were, able to cook a full Thanksgiving dinner for your family on your own, and all three of you were thriving. Most people would be stating what they were thankful for on this day but you — the gratitude you felt overwhelmed you and it was something that couldn’t be put into words. You had a beautiful life, a wonderful life, a daughter just as beautiful and wonderful, and you were thankful for the man who had given it to you. Who had laid down his shield (and everything that came with it) and chosen to make this life with you.

You stared into his green eyes, seeing a certain amount of reverence mixed with affection watching you back. You felt his skin warm against yours, reminding you of all of the days and nights he spent trying to keep you warm during and after your treatments, and you smiled. “Your hands are so warm,” you whispered the familiar words. “I always forget how warm they are.”

And as expected, he grinned and responded with, “Not sure how, dollface. I never take them off of you.” He ran a thumb tenderly along your bottom lip. “And I never will.”

He kissed you then and you couldn’t help the tear that escaped and rolled down your cheek. The quickie ended up being not so quick. The turkey was a little drier than you liked but your family ate it all the same while Rose politely complimented you. Violet gave you a nod, smiling, missing her father unapologetically smirking over at you while shoveling forkfuls into his mouth. You gave him a look when your daughter glanced back down to her plate and he chortled before digging in again. You gazed around the table, smiling, content as could be. Gratitude. Thankful. Those were the two words that repeated themselves over and over in your head as you watched your family eat the food you’d cooked for them, even when Violet insisted that Ben had still cheated in Mario Kart, her father told her to let it go, and both agreed to a rematch right after dinner.

This is what you’d wanted back when you gave Ben your ultimatum, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually get to have it. Thankful indeed.

Being awash in these memories, you failed to notice that a tear was making its way down Ben’s cheek until it fell near your hairline when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t really feel anything that wasn’t pain or cold, except for him. Even his tears were warm. So warm.

“Not sure how, baby,” he answered you, smiling, his eyes wet. “I always have them on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return at your familiar exchange. That smile fell, though, when you heard what he said next.

“I’m gonna get him. I promise you that.”

You could see the faint edges of Soldier Boy peeking through as you saw your husband’s green eyes harden in an all-too familiar fashion. You slowly shook your head, even that tiny movement causing you pain. “I don’t want that. I want you and Vi to be safe.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Instead, his eyes softened once more and he gave you a nod. “Okay, baby.”

You and Ben had been walking through town, buying last minute Christmas presents. Ben wanted to order them online and avoid the crowds, but you wanted to take a walk, breathing in the fresh air and be imbued with the Christmas spirit that permeated the town. Ben had begrudgingly indulged you and you enjoyed yourself as you bought gifts for Violet, her fiancee, and you even managed to sneak one for Ben when you’d sent him to ask the guy manning the stand in the outdoor market for a price on an item. The woman from the stand next door had just bagged your gift when you noticed a young man walking through the market, commanding everyone’s attention. He had a suit on with a cape so it was obvious he was a Supe and he was looking for something or someone. His eyes flickered in Ben’s direction, who had his back to him, and a dangerous smile formed on his face. Within seconds, you recognized him. He was the Supe you had seen on TV a few years back, though he’d been wearing a different suit then and he wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he was now. He was the one who had been saying he would hunt Soldier Boy down to kill him. You quickly glanced back at Ben who was completely unaware, involved in the discussion he was having with the older man. You saw the Supe’s eyes begin to glow and you knew what would happen before it did.

You dropped everything in your hands and ran as fast as you could towards Ben, yelling his name. He glanced up at you, his brows furrowed, and he tensed seeing your expression. It was mere moments that passed before you were in front of him and you felt a lava-hot feeling erupting from your insides, making you scream.

You fell to the ground and you watched as Ben went to catch you but was forced to let you fall when he looked up to see more lasers coming his way. He moved out of the way just in time. As you lay, unable to move, hearing some of the sounds of battle all around you and people screaming and stampeding out of the market while your ears were still ringing, you prayed to whoever was listening that your husband won and that he and your daughter would be safe.

It wasn’t until you heard something that sounded like a jet taking off into the sky and saw Ben’s boots come to a stop in front of you that you realized he had survived. You nearly cried at the sight of those worn work boots that you kept urging him to replace. He managed to roll you over though you cried out in pain as he did and he settled you onto his lap, his eyes wide as he took in your injuries. Not only could you feel how bad it was, but you could also see it on his face. It was a miracle you were somehow still alive, able to talk even, but you didn’t have long. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the rapidly-spreading cold wasn’t a good thing. Your hands and arms were practically numb at this point. And you thought cancer would be the one you’d have to worry about showing up.

“Make sure you take care of Vi. She’s going to need you,” you urged him.

He gave you another nod. “You know I will.”

“And don’t let that asshole find her.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened again. “He won’t.” You knew what that meant but not having much energy left, you could only hope that when he thought back to this moment, he remembered what you had told him you wanted.

It worried you a little when he picked up your hand and kissed your palm that not only could you not feel it, but your hand looked the palest you’d ever seen it, even during chemo.

More tears rolled down your cheeks but you made sure to look up at him. You had no idea how much time you had left but you needed to tell him, you needed him to know. “Tell Vi that I love her and I’m so proud of her.” And you were. Inspired by what had happened to you years back, she became a doctor, specifically an oncologist. She was determined to find a cure and in the meantime, help people who had gotten some of the worst news of their lives. “And, Ben.. Thank you for our life together. Thank you for our daughter. Thank you for everything.”

You could see his eyes beginning to glisten once more and he compulsively swallowed. “I should be thanking you for that.”

“You made the decision to walk away. If you hadn’t…”

“It was an easy decision.”

You tried to give him a smile that probably came out more of a grimace. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m thankful you made it.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead before staring into your eyes. “I’m thankful for you.”

You tried to smile wider but instead a cough erupted out of you and you could feel something wet on your lip. Ben gently swiped his thumb across it, moving it out of your sight, and a slight panic set in when you realized you could barely feel the action. “Ben,” you croaked. “I’m so cold.” You could barely feel the pain anymore and it felt as if someone had turned on an A/C inside you at full blast and the icy air was making its way up to your head.

Ben attempted to give you a familiar smile. “Then I’ll warm you up, doll.” You heard the breaks in his voice but when he leaned down to kiss you, you let him, taking comfort in the familiar show of affection. You breathed through your nose and you relaxed, feeling the last bit of warmth that was infused into your lips.

Ben stayed there long after you took your last breath, long after you went limp. He knew you were gone but a small irrational part of him told himself that if he just kept trying to chase the cold away for you, he might somehow succeed. But ultimately, as he knew it wouldn’t, it didn’t work. He lifted his head and stared down at you, silently willing you to open your eyes. When you didn’t, more tears fell down his bearded cheeks and a sob tore out of his throat that he had no idea was there waiting to escape. “Baby,” he choked out, shaking you as gently as he could, still mindful of your wounds. But still, nothing. Then he said the words he’d always struggled to give voice to, thinking if nothing else would bring you back, this might. “I love you,” he let out in a broken whisper against your lips. When that didn’t work either, he knew that was it and subsequently broke down, rocking you tenderly in his arms as he buried his face in your neck while his shoulders shook. For the first time ever since becoming a Supe, Soldier Boy cried and didn’t care who saw it or knew about it. He ignored the cries of people looking for their loved ones, he ignored the police cars showing up and the sirens of the fire trucks on their way, he ignored people clamoring around the site asking what happened or trying to help others — he ignored them all. All he focused on was you. You had knowingly put yourself in front of those lasers to save him. …And now you were gone.

A/N: Please don't hate me. 🫣

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #thebiggerbear writes #something real #soldier boy x you

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houseofoddballs · 1 year ago

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OK, wow, a lot of you really wanted to go for the "good" ending, right? Well, I'm sorry, but there was no good ending. Enjoy my little oddballs! Final word count is about 2,400 words!

Tw: aggression, angst, emotional hurt, vulgarity, physical abuse? Tell me If there are more to add!

This wasn't working. You stood inside your bathroom, propped against the sink as you stared into your own eyes. They just looked so sad now, so hollow. You could remember Simon cupping your cheek as he stared into your eyes under starlight and murmured against your lips how much he loved seeing them light up around him.

What you wouldn't give to have that again. Staring up at the stars with Simon, his fingers brushing through your hair. You missed the soft mumbled apologies whenever he would catch a snag, and the way he focused on you more than any silly constellation.

"Why stars?" You had asked him, on probably the third date where he took you stargazing with either a picnic or just some takeout. I mean, this was Simon after all. Deep, brooding, knew all of the vital organs and arteries on the human body, etc. He didn’t exactly seem like the soft stargazing type, especially with as clumsy as he was at romance.

You were met with a gruff grunt and a shrug at the time. But later, once you two had eaten and were just laying back together, hand in hand, he answered your question. "'S because no matter where I'm deployed, I know I'm always lookin' up at the same sky as you."

You were snapped back to reality by a sharp rap at your door and the voice of a Scottsman who you had began to secretly loathe. "Aye, lass, ya' mind bringin' up the wheely bin? Ghost said he would take the trash out if ya do." A soft sigh was leaving your lips before you could even process his words, turning away from the reflection of your despondent hollow eyes.

Snow crunched under your feet as you trekked out of the garrage to fetch the trash bin from its place next to the mailbox. Cold seeped through the thin layers of your clothing, a frigid therapy to clear your mind and remind you that you were alive. It was uncomfortable, but in the most comfortable and enveloping sort of way. Like a hug that lasts a bit too long from someone who you know just wants to help.

Hugs. You missed those.

Your eyes flicked up to the night sky, moving between the stars like a pachinko ball bouncing off of celestial pegs. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was time to put yourself first for a change. The very thought made your stomach twist and churn with guilt, but you were far beyond guilt at this point. It wasn't healthy for you to spend afternoons sitting on your floor with you back pressed against the door so you could just listen to Soap and Simon talk without intruding on their time. It wasn't healthy for you to make yourself dissappear just to please an overgrown child. It wasn't healthy for you to beat yourself up over standing up for yourself and what you needed.

So, this was it. You had to be done. Simon had been given more than enough chances to put you first, and he hadn't taken any of them. Simon had simply stayed off to the side complacently as Johnny pushed you further and further away. So beit then.

Soap won.

You didn't bother packing most of your stuff knowing that it would only make it harder to leave, and if you let yourself think about it too much then you were going to stay trapped, haunting their broken relationship. No.

Your favorite clothes, toiletries, and other things went into your suitcase as you finally decided to free yourself. With every item you packed, it felt like another link was cut from the chain that was wrapped around your neck, trapping you here. And yet, there is terror that comes with freedom. You canceled your phone plan that night and waited until Ghost and Johnny went to bed to make your move.

Guttural grunts and lewd moans were your signal to move, rolling your eyes as you left a single sheet of paper folded neatly on your bed. Neither of them hardly ever came to check on you, so you reckoned that you had at least a week before even Simon noticed your absence. Unless, of course, Johnny noticed your car missing. But, even if he did, it didn't matter. This was it.

"Goodby, Simon. I loved you."

And then you were gone. Tossing your suitcase in the back and driving off into the night. The stars were, and always would be, a painful reminder of Simon. But they say that time heals all wounds. You would just have to test that.

no. No. NO. NO!

Simon's hands trembled as they clutched the small piece of paper from you pillows, eyes tracing over and reading each line until he couldn’t make out the words through the tears welling in his eyes.

Gone. You were gone.

His angel, his sweet, his world, his everything. As much as he tried to fool himself into asking why, he knew the answer.

Simon loved you desperately. After everything that had happened to him, his father, losing his family, being buried alive, being hung by his ribs, all of it; after all of it was when he had met you, and Ghost felt truly alive in a manner he had never felt before.

There were quite a few differences between feeling alive in the heat of battle and feeling alive with someone you love, and yet, both of them made Ghost acutely aware of his pounding heart, both of them made Ghost's stomach twist up in knots, both of them brought blood to Ghost's face.

And Ghost wouldn't have had it any other way. Ghost had spent so long being Ghost, that he was starting to forget who Simon was. But you changed that. A simple holiday with Price, that was all it took for him to meet and fall so ridiculously in love with you that he walked around base with a dopy grin under his Skull balaclava at the thought of you texting him.

As Simon numbly sat on the edge of your bed, clutching so tight to the paper that he was afraid it might shred, your entire relationship flashed before his eyes.

Your first date, your first hug, your first kiss, your first time, When he told you his real name, the first time he took off his mask in front of you, the first time he broke down to you. How could he have been such an idiot?

Simon tired to think back on His and Johnny's relationship in a similar way, but it just wasn't the same. They had been great friends in the task force already, so when they were both captured together, of course that was when things had to change.

Sure, he had fallen for Johnny's kind words and beautiful eyes when they were tied together and bleeding on the cold concrete. Ghost should have known better!! But when the stubborn Scottsman confessed so sweetly so that he wouldn't die with any regrets, well, it was hard not to feel touched.

But they just weren't compatible.

Johnny was loud, immature, selfish, didn't think very far ahead, and he was just so clingy. And, yet the thought of leaving him made Simon's heart ache whenever he thought about it. Johnny didn't treat him like he was in love, but Ghost was sure that Soap loved him in his own way.

But it wasn't worth this. He tried calling you, searching for you, emailing you for the queen's sake! But he found nothing. You had been so isolated that you didn't really have any friends that Simon knew of. He was just lost.

He should have taken the ache of being honest with John over this overwhelmingly hollow torment in his chest. When you left, you took hardly anything, but you took everything from Simon.

The world became colorless, music lost it's rhythm, food lost it's taste, life lost its luster. And Johnny? Well, he became a lot harder to tolerate.

"Did ya hear their makin' a new-" "Not now Johnny." It was like he didn't care. Didn't care that you were gone, didn't care how badly Simon was hurting. "Is this about the lass again? Look, I'm sorry Si, but it's not your fault she didn't care enought-"

"Shut up." Soap looked at Ghost in shock for a moment, a brow quirking up. "What?" "You heard me." Now Johnny's brows were furrowing, his lips setting into that stairght line that meant he was about to win.

Something about Soap? He was impossible to argue with. He would argue in circles to the point where it didn't matter which side he was on as long as he won, which was incredibly frustrating to say the least and made any arguments completely pointless because he would win in the end out of sheer exasperation. It was just easier that way. But not this time.

"Shut. Up." "Look, ya' ken nae go blamin' me for the way she left! She-" Simon was up in an instant, a hand around Soaps throat, effectively shutting him up and pinning him to the wall. Johnny reached up and clawed at his wrist as Simon squeezed just a bit too tight, he could feel Johnny's windpipe being crushed into itself. But he didn't care. Not right now.

"You absolute fuckin' nubty. You just don't get it, do you? Well, seargant, let me spell it out for you, you dense fuck." Simon's eyes were burning, but this wasn't Simon anymore. He could almost feel his balaclava over his face as he glowered down at Soap, eyes filled with disdain and mallace. This was Ghost, someone who hadn't been out to play in years, despite the name sticking around.

Soap winced as Ghost tightened his grip even further, a snarl meeting his lips as he spoke. "She was MINE. And I was hers. We'll use a pie for the sake of your small. Fucking. Brain." Each venomous word was punctuated with a twitch of Ghost's hand, a lingering desire to just squeeze all of the life out of Soap right here and now.

He could see Soaps eyes rolling back as dark spots were inevitably clouding them. That was no good. He had to be awake for what Simon had to say. Ghost loosened his grip just enough to allow Soap the bare minimum of blood and oxygen before delivering a harsh slap across his face with his free hand.

"Ah ah ah sausage, stay with me. So, the pie. She goes and gets a third of the pie because I'm in the military and she doesn't get to see my beautiful mug very often. Then, she hears that I'm coming home for good. She gets all of that delicious pie. Ya' followin' me Johnny?" A strangled nodd. Good. Ghost didn't care about the strangled noises leaving soap or the way that tears pricked his eyes.

"Good boy Johnny. So, she thinks she's getting all of this pie that I am. And then, I come back toting your arse along like some fucking new pet. Well, now she thinks she only gets half of the pie. But she still agrees because she was a fucking angel." Ghost's voice was cold again, filled with the same gruffness that the military had imparted into him.

Ghost hadn't been out in ages. It felt good. Ghost could feel Soaps pulse under his fingers, feel his lifeblood. It was intoxicating. He loved that look of pure terror, missed people looking at him like the monster he was.

"Except, instead of half of the pie, she's still only getting a third, because SOMEONE is a greedy fucking pig. Wonder who that is, Johnny?" Ghost cocked his head to the side as he dug his nails into the flesh of Johnny's neck, reveling in the way that he winced.

"And then what happens? This little piggy goes and takes even more of the fuckin pie. You just keep taking and taking and TAKING until all that was left was fucking crumbs. Do you get it now? You fucking muppet."

Soap nodded furiously as he gripped Ghost's wrist, trying desperately to pull him off. But it wasn't Ghost's fault Johnny hadn't been working out as much. Five years ago he would have at least been able to put up a fight. This was just pathetic to Ghost.

"And so, she lapped at your fucking crumbs like the good girl she was, because she fucking loved me. Do you love me Johnny?" Ghost cut off Soaps nodding with a glare. "I know your cock does, but that's not what I'm asking. Do YOU love me? Because I don't think you do. I think you love having someone complacent to you. You love thinking you have complete control and having everything bend to your fucking whim."

Ghost pulled away finally, letting Soap crumple to the ground coughing and clutching his neck. Ghost just shook his head and made his way to the door, grabbing the keys to his jeep off the rack and his familiar skull balaclava as he did so.

"Pick yourself up. Shits about to change, and I'm done letting you walk all over me. You better hope I find my girl again, or you better be gone when I come back. Your choice Johnny."

It wasn't good, wasn't healthy by any means, but everyone had a breaking point.

And you? What did you do? You lived. Love was definitely off of the table, but you managed to find a place to stay with a nice landlord who helped you find a job in your new small town. A nice older gentleman with sandy chops and a fatherly disposition. He became your best friend. Romance was dead to you at this point, but he was just so gentlemanly and sweet.

Little did you know that Price had forbid Simon and Johnny from your life after what you told him. He was protecting you in more ways than you knew from both the devil you knew and the devil you thought you knew. Simon was ravenous, like a rabbid dog desperately trying to get to you. But Price wasn't going to let him hurt you anymore.

And he didn't.

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luveline · 11 months ago

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Would you be willing to write a little blurb of Steve comforting reader who is in recovery from self harm? I know this is a very no no subject for some writers so I understand if this is a no!

fem!reader !! cw self harm (mention of the self injury, no active graphic imagery, but some details that could be evocative)

You’ve taken to curling up in whatever space he leaves. In bed, you sidle close to his side with your ear to his stomach. On the couch, you’re laying on his lap, every breath a press of ribs against his thighs. If Steve’s on a sun lounger in the backyard, you’re sitting on the ground next to him with an arm hooked over his leg and your cheek bitten by metal.

It’s sort of odd to see your arms without red cuts and welts. Curled again, you and Steve are sitting on the porch watching the sun dropping lazily to the horizon, the sky a funny shade of blue. You’re actually turned away from the sun and toward the house, Steve to the sun, like inverted commas interlinked. Your hand is on his leg, and your arm is bare and starkly uninjured.

That’s too generous, maybe. Evidence of a bad habit long to kick tracks the length of you, white and purple and red scars criss-crossed through your skin.

He’s seen them thick with dried blood and sore to the touch. Your skin aflame. Not because you’ve ever showed him of your own volition, you wouldn’t. You’ve always likened your self-injury to a contagion. “I don’t wanna put thoughts in your head,” you whispered.

It was a nice concern for you to have, but Steve isn’t at any risk of hurting himself (purposefully, at least). He has no urges. He didn’t even know people did stuff like that until he met you. Maybe that’s why it breaks his heart so much. You hurt so much. You feel terrible and you take it out on yourself and Steve just doesn’t get it, ‘cos you’re aces.

He never shied away from it, even if he didn’t like that you were doing it. He still remembers the first time he realised what you were doing, his confusion, the immediate internal recoil. How could you do that to yourself? Why would you? You’ve always been prone to that awful persisting sadness under the skin, but Steve knows a lot of sad people. He knows what it’s like to wish vehemently that you were a better version of yourself, or somebody else, or just gone.

But you’re doing better now. He resists the urge to kiss your hands whenever he sees you and you act like you aren’t doing a brave thing.

Steve’s stupid but he’s not stupid. (Or, at least he feels that way.) He knows you’re finding it hard to stop, like an addict. It’s a habit. A behaviour that takes conscious effort to break until it doesn’t. The worst bit is that you never even asked for help.

Your hand twitches on his leg.

Steve curls a hand behind your neck, kissing you softly, the silky press of your lips to his. You inhale and cut the quiet buzz of cicadas, your breath surprised but not tight.

“Sorry,” he says, “was that okay? I was just thinking about you.”

“It’s fine.” You laugh against his lips and take a kiss, evening the score. “It’s always okay. Kiss me whenever you want.”

“You looked mopey,” he says. Foot in mouth disease forever.

“I’m not mopey, just distracted.”

“I know, it’s offensive. You come over here to hang out and spend the last hour in deep thought.” He makes it clear he’s joking through his light tone and his smile, your eyes met, his hand sliding down your shoulder and your arm. He’s especially careful as his fingers run down your forearm. You watch the path of his hand as it falls, twining your fingers weakly with his. “You can tell me anything.”

“I do tell you anything.”

“Well, just telling you again.” He kisses your cheek, then, less gentle, your lips.

You have this aversion to saying the worst part out loud. There’s always a metaphor or an omission. You can’t say cut, it’s too much, but you’ve said hurt. You’ll admit to self injury but not the action. “It’s fine,” you say now.

“I think you’re doing a good job.”

You laugh softly through your nose. “Thank you.”

“I’m not kidding.” He blows a breath up his face. “Look, can I just be honest with you?”

Your smile turns uneasy at his bluntness. “Um. Are you breaking up with me?”

Steve shakes his head. “Never,” he says, pushing your sleeve up your arm slowly, and then faster when you don’t resist. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you without them.” He doesn’t say cuts either, mostly for your sake.

“Sorry.”

He shakes his head again. “For what? I’m just saying. You’ve had them this whole time and I’ve never– they’ve never stopped me from wanting to kiss your face off.” He probably shouldn’t make jokes. He backtracks. “I mean, they don’t make a difference to me, I like you even if you can’t, uh… Even if the impulse is too much. But I’m thrilled you’re, you know, not doing it.”

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love you.”

“I know.” Your voice is nearly inaudible, “That’s why it’s easier now.”

His heart swells with pride and love and an unfightable want to hug you. He slides his arms around you from under your armpits, forcing you to hug his neck, stealing a kiss to the cheek as he squeezes you forward. “I just want you to know that I get it. Like, how hard you’re working to not do it.”

“Steve,” you admonish quietly.

“Sorry, I’ll stop talking about it if you want.”

“I mean… It's kinda nice to talk about it. It’s not in my head.”

“It’s not in your head.”

“But it feels weird ‘cos it’s like, something I should be doing anyways. It’s like getting praise for washing your hands.”

Steve thinks there’s a pretty big difference between wanting to hurt yourself but resisting it and washing your hands, but he knows what you’re saying. Doesn’t agree, but doesn’t want to invalidate you either. However you need to think about it to get through it is up to you. “I can praise you for washing your hands. I want to.”

Steve encourages you to turn into the sunshine. You lay your cheek against his shoulder. “Love you,” you say, your hand on his leg.

He stares right at the sun and blinks hurriedly. “I love you too.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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little-diable · 1 year ago

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Twin Flame - Dean Winchester (smut)

Inspired by the song "Twin Flame" by Brennan Story. I love love love this fic, and I hope y'all will love it too. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Months ago Dean had broken the reader's heart, a desperate try to protect her. But he no longer manages to stay away, needing to find his way back to her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, makeup sex, some heartbreak in the beginning, a very very happy end

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.8k words)

Well this road don't get no shorter, I would've drove the whole thing for you, my tank down to a quarter, and it'll be gone soon

„What is up with you lately, Dean?” Sam’s voice filled Baby, worried eyes watching his brother. No reply left Dean as he kept driving on, caught in his memories like a fly trapped in the web of a spider set to kill. He was stuck, without a way out, and yet, deep down inside he prayed that he’d never be able to leave those memories behind.

Whenever he got a moment to let his thoughts wander, he had to think of her, the one who still holds his heart in her hands, even after all these months. Being with her had been something he had never experienced before, a new sensation he longed for like a man dying of thirst dreaming of any water he could drink. Loving her had been everything Dean wasn’t, it had been sweet, easy, it had been too good to be true.

Whenever he was lying awake at night, eyes staring at the dirty ceiling of the motel rooms he and Sam found shelter in, he imagined her laying next to him, head resting on his chest, listening to his calmly beating heart. Dean still felt her weight on him, if he closed his eyes he could feel her right there with him, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, words that had been etched into his mind.

“Dean?” Sam tried again, worried eyes flickering back to the dark road ahead, knowing that it would take them at least a couple more hours to make their way to the bunker. “Hey man, c’mon, talk to me, I can tell something is going on.”

“It’s nothing, Sammy.” His voice told Sam everything he needed to know, exposing the hurt, the sadness flushing through Dean’s system. Dean’s green eyes were hazy, no longer filled with that special glint spurring him on whenever they were on a hunt, it felt as if he was no longer in the car with Sam, just a body without a soul tied to it.

“Is it about her? Dean, you should just call her, reach out, it’s never too late.” A sharp inhale of cold air was forced into Dean’s lungs, teeth grazing his lower lip to stop his angry words from rolling off his tongue. He couldn’t reach out, couldn’t call the one whose heart he had broken, leaving her behind without looking back once, choosing the life with his brother over her, a hunter just like him and his brother – a woman Dean wanted to protect from being hurt because of him.

The cold words he had spoken to her were still ringing in his ears, how he had pushed her away, nothing but a stupid spiel Dean stuck to, in order to save her from a life filled with uneasy times, with hunts that would leave their marks on her. Dean Winchester would do everything to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking (y/n)’s heart, and his own.

And my drink been feelin' lighter, 'cause I'm a lover not a fighter, and I seen that you caught fire, when you put me out

“Sammy, wake up, we’re home.” Dean’s rough voice filled the dark night, hand shaking his brother’s shoulder. It took Sam a moment to wake, hands rubbing his tired eyes. Slowly did the younger Winchester brother undo his seatbelt, halting his movements as he noticed that Dean wasn't moving.

“What’s wrong?” Worry dripped from the tip of Sam’s tongue, watching his brother’s gaze flicker between the steering wheel and the phone Dean kept clinging to.

“I have something to do, I’ll be gone for a few days.” Silence filled Baby, a silence so loud, Dean started to shuffle around in his seat, waiting for his brother to speak up or to start moving, already annoyed with the time they kept wasting just now. Dean was feeling antsy, nervousness filled his system, a sensation so unfamiliar he couldn’t help but curse it.

“Dean,” Sam whispered his brother’s name, hand finding his shoulder. “Get her back, stop worrying about dragging her down with you, she’s stronger than the both of us combined, she’ll do just fine being around us.”

Dean couldn’t reply, throat too tight, mouth too dry to produce any sounds, unsure what to say to the brother of his that looked at him with so much hope swimming in his pupils. Sam didn’t know much about the night where Dean had left her, he didn’t know of the words he had spoken, hurtful words that have left their scars on his and her soul, it’d be a miracle if she’d take Dean back. But he couldn’t breathe without her near, couldn’t live on without her by his side.

……

“Absolutely not.” (Y/n)’s eyes met Dean’s desperate ones, body turned from him as she tried to close her door, without any luck, wood caught by the boot he had pushed past her entrance. A string of curses left her, jaw ticking in anger as her eyes found their way back to his, reading the pleading swimming in his pupils before she slowly took a step back, inviting him back in.

Dean followed her through the all too familiar four walls he had once started to call his new home, the house they should grow old in, the house they should raise their children in, nothing but mere dreams that have evaporated into nothing but a hazy dream both could no longer recreate.

“I always knew you’d step low, but turning up here is ruthless, even for you, Dean Winchester.” (Y/n) had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes not daring to leave his once. Slowly he sank down on her couch, right next to her, not giving (y/n) a chance to move away. Without thinking he reached for her hand, moving faster than she had anticipated, catching her fingers before she could move them away as if he was a flame she burnt herself on.

“I wasn’t planning on coming here, hell, I wasn’t planning on ever setting my foot back in this house.” His whispers were torn between sounds reminding one of cries for help and a voice so quiet one could have problems understanding what he was saying. An angry huff left (y/n), glassy eyes focusing on the calloused fingertips stroking the back of her hand, pushing an all too familiar sensation through her body. She was trembling, begging for whoever was listening to relieve her from the pain she had never been able to let go of, and yet she had tried to keep on moving, without looking back once.

“You broke my heart, you left me without an explanation, just your awful words. One day you were here, and the next you were suddenly gone. It took me a while to give my life a new meaning, to adjust to hunting on my own, but I managed just fine for the past months, Dean. Why do you have to return the second I’m finally okay on my own?” Her tears started rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her chin like a once dry waterfall regaining its impressive strength. With his other hand finding her jaw, Dean started drying her tears, heart clenching in his chest as he was once again reminded of the pain he had pushed her through.

“I know, and I’m so sorry for being so fucking selfish, but I can’t stay away. Every second without you by my side is pure torture, you’re the only thing I can think of, no matter when or where I am. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. All I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, after watching you getting hurt because of me, because I couldn’t step back from a hunt we should have called backup for, I knew i had to get away from you. I can’t be the reason you get into any more danger. But as much as I hate myself for saying it, I can’t live without you, not any longer.” A heavy sigh left (y/n) as she looked at Dean, focusing on the pain filling his green pupils, on the lifeless expression tugging on his features. He was no longer the Dean she had once been with, no, he had changed, their breakup had left its marks on him, as much as it had left its marks on her. And yet she still longed for him, after all the sleepless nights she had cursed him for.

“I need time to think this through, you have hurt me so much, Dean, so much. But I still love you, a lot. You can sleep on the sofa and we can talk in the morning.” Slowly Dean let go of her, pulling his hands away to give (y/n) enough space to rise to her feet. With one last glance thrown his way, she disappeared down the hallway, letting the door to her bedroom fall shut with a soft thud.

And as Dean sat on the sofa he had once put together with (y/n), he couldn’t help but give into the tears welling up in his eyes.

And I'd set fire onto, these boots running from the hard truth, that you don't need me the same way I need you

……

Dean woke with a groan leaving him, back aching from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in. It took him a few seconds to remember the past hours, how he had turned up at (y/n)’s place, how he had cried into his hands as she had parted from him. His green eyes shot open, finding a pair of all too familiar eyes already staring at him. (Y/n) was sitting on the edge of the sofa, wearing the same shirt she had worn hours ago. Only now did Dean realise that the shirt had once belonged to him, pushing a very welcomed heat through his aching body.

“I made some coffee.” Her soft voice left his heart skipping beats, needing to cherish these moments should she ask him to leave in the upcoming minutes. Slowly did Dean sit up, stretching his neck and arms before he murmured a “Thank you, sweetheart”, taking the cup of warm coffee (y/n) pushed into his direction.

“I didn’t catch any sleep, but I got enough time to think.” Dean braced himself for the words she was about to speak, teeth grazing his lower lip. His heart was racing way too fast for the early hour, and yet Dean didn’t manage to calm his system, palms growing sweatier with every second. He struggled to look into the eyes he’d see whenever he closed his at night, desperate to feel her close, pupils that were once so familiar, so loved, pupils that felt like nothing but a fever dream now. “I love you too much to push you away, but it’ll take me some time to trust you again, Dean. You have to accept that we’ll both get hurt on hunts, with or without Sammy. And you’ll accept that I’ll join you on all hunts I want to join, you won’t get a say about my decisions. Are we clear?”

He looked at her for a few more moments before his hand found the back of her neck, pulling (y/n) in for a bruising kiss. With a gasp leaving (y/n) she moved closer, arms finding their way around his neck, allowing Dean to pull her into his lap. The kiss was fuelled by their longing for one another, hearts begging them to never part ways again, unable to endure another wave of heartbreak.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, whatever you need. I love you so much, sweetheart, I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.” Dean murmured his words against her lips, pulling her in for another kiss as his hands disappeared underneath the comfortable shirt of his she was wearing. Her breath hitched in her chest as Dean shuffled them around, pressing (y/n) against the sofa with him nestling between her thighs. Moans clawed through the two as Dean began to roll his hips, rubbing his hardening bulge against her damp panties.

“Been dreaming about you touching me, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t help but miss you, your lips, your fingers.” A soft, throaty laugh rumbled through Dean as he pushed her shirt up to expose her chest to his hungry eyes, lips finding her hardening nipples almost instantly, leaving his marks on every inch of her warm flesh.

“Fuck, no matter what I tried, my mind always wandered back to you. I imagined the words you’d moan, how you’d wrap your fingers around my cock. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love you.” No longer could she reply to his words, (y/n) had almost forgotten the loving words his mouth and mind were able to create in moments like this one, set on making her feel the love his heart pumped through his system. “I need to be inside of you, it’s been too fucking long. Do you have a condom?”

“No, but I’m clean, I didn’t sleep with anybody but you.” She was almost scared to ask Dean if he had touched another woman, struggling to form the question that now rang through her mind, leaving her breathless. Dean pushed another kiss against her lips before he shuffled out of his clothes, exposing his twitching cock to her wandering eyes.

“Good, you’re mine to touch only, forever mine. I didn’t touch anybody else, just the thought of it made me sick, no matter how much alcohol I needed to try and forget about us.” With her hand finding its way back to his neck, and with her legs slowly wrapping themselves around his hips, (y/n) chased his slightly swollen lips.

The sound of their moans leaving them in unison was drowned by their kiss, Dean moved slow at first, needing to hold back before he’d cum right there and then, no longer used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his cock. Both clung to one another as he fucked her into the sofa, with one hand placed on the arm rest and the other on her waist, leaving marks with his fingertips digging into her skin. (Y/n) arched her front against his, trembling legs not daring to loosen their hold on his waist, wondering if she was only stuck in a dream, or if Dean was truly fucking her, reminding her that she was his.

And no matter how hard I try, I'll never learn to say goodbye, you say it's okay to cry, baby that river done ran dry

“God, how I missed feeling you, feels so perfect, so fucking perfect.” With his forehead pressed against hers, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, growing rougher as her walls fluttered around him, tensing every now and then. Dean had lost count on the amount of times he had dreamt of feeling her again, of loving her just like he had always promised he would.

“Same, fuck, don’t ever leave me again, Dean.” (Y/n) choked on his name, hand disappearing between their bodies to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves. Both knew that they wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, it felt as if they hadn’t been able to let go for months, unable to touch themselves without thinking of one another. But both had tried to make themselves cum for weeks on end, unable to do so, since their minds painted pictures too painful, pictures they could now finally leave behind.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart? Fuck, I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.” Another moan left (y/n) as Dean’s lips found her jaw, kissing their way down her neck. It took her a moment to reply, choking on her breaths, unable to think clear with her thoughts growing hazy.

“Inside of me, please, Dean, fill me up.” She felt his cock twitching inside of her, forcing her to add more pressure on her clit, crying his name as she came. Dean followed her down the edge, eyes rolling back into his head as he came with a “Fuck” leaving him.

Both were heavily breathing, not daring to part with their bodies still joined, just like their jumping hearts. (Y/n) murmured his name as she combed a hand through his hair, eyes finding his, “I love you Dean, no matter what will happen between us, I belong to you, as much as you belong to me.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader #supernatural smut

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nenynrawrites · 7 days ago

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Insecure

Summary: Axl reads over a part of the reader's stories, which sent him into a spiral of self-doubt. Unbeknownst to him, it was about him all along.

Wordcount: 1513 words

Warnings: Angst, otherwise fluff

A/N: Finally done @tobbesdiscordkitten ! I hope you like what I did:> // He was always such a beauty<3

,,Fuck, look at you...Looking so smart...''

,,Says you. You're the smart one here!''

,,Yeah, but you're the one concentrating and I'm not really...''

Axl knew about you writing as a hobby, and whenever he got the chance to watch, he'll just do, just like right now: You were laying sideways on your shared be, head perched on one hand, the other busy writing your thoughts down. And he scooped in right behind you, leaving light kisses wherever he could reach. ,,What'd you say did you call those hot stories? Smut?'' He was curious. It hadn't been long since you two dated, about a year, but it took much for you to tell him about all those notebooks you owned. ,,Yeah, smut. But I haven't written one in ages...'', you answered, shortly stopping your writing to take Axl's hand, which was resting on your hip, in yours. ,,Could I be of help?'', he asked, resting your hands closer to your tummy. ,,Maybe'', you answered, curious as to what his idea was, ,,What'd you have in mind?''

No answer, just actions. Axl started to trace little shapes over your tummy, holding out on certain spots you liked it the most. Your breathing picked up, just like his, but he always found a way to not show it. Little nips on your neck as your hand went to search for his again, but it was nowhere to be found. Actually, Axl wasn't anywhere to be found either.

,,Axl? Where are you?''

One second he was there, the next second, he was gone. As if he didn't exist in the first place. But then you heard a sound: ,,Do you think she'll be mad at me if I say now?''

You could hear his voice, another faint one in reach. Was he calling Beta? What was going on?

,,Axl? Why did you leave?'' You were now standing in the kitchen in front of Axl who had just hung up the phone, a puzzled and guilty looking expression on his face. ,,I...Don't wanna talk about it...'' He felt defeated. The sad tone in his voice was indicator enough for you to know, that he wished to tell about it, but just couldn't get himself to. And it hurt you, too. ,,Baby, if you wanna talk, just say, okay?'' The wait was long but he finally answered: ,,Yeah, yeah...''

~-~

Everything felt weird. It's been a few days since Axl's call to, what you now know, Beta. But neither of you touched onto the mysterious topic. But you knew it must've been about you.

Axl had been in his music room the whole morning, quietly playing some notes on the piano as to not wake you up. But he wasn't searching for new music, no: It was more a distraction, from what you might possibly think about him.

,,Hey, do you have a minute?'' Your question was hesitant, feeling forbidden. But you had to know what was going on. As much as he didn't show it, it was killing him inside. ,,Yeah, what's up?'' His was just as hesitant, if not even more. He looked so scared, it felt as if you were dreaming. ,,Something's going on with you. I don't know what it is, but I know it's about me'', you said, your voice serious but sad, holding his hand in yours. Would you be mad if he told you the truth? After all, you were worried about him. But at what cost?

,,You're gonna hate me for this'', he answered, shyly, barely above a whisper. If his head hadn't been on your should, you would've heard it. Axl was taking deep breaths, absentmindedly playing with the knuckles of your fingers, something else that occupied his mind. ,,I have a suspicion on what you're sad about'', you stated, looking into his tired eyes, pulling him closer.

,,I won't hate you.'' His eyes showed a little bit of hope as he sat up properly, still holding your hand. ,,Take your time, yeah?'', you said, putting some of his hair behind his ear. ,,It...Is you...Like...Not your fault, but maybe I'm taking it too personal...'', he answered with a sigh, his breath stocking. ,,Hey, hey there, baby, don't cry!'' The scene in front of your was heartbreaking: He didn't meant o, but the whole situation made him feel bad. Weak, even. It made him feel weak...

~-~

You two left it at that point. Axl didn't have the strength to continue talking and you didn't dare to ask on. But you soon figured out what exactly could've been the cause.

,,You're not gonna cuddle?'' It was around 1 AM when you and Axl finally went to bed, but the usual cuddle-and-fall-asleep-together session was met with a cold shoulder from him. ,,I'm...Good.'' He wasn't. Still, you scooted as close as he'd let you, holding his hand and falling asleep like that. It wasn't much but at least it was something.

~-~

,,Y/N? I think we can talk...If you got a minute.''

,,Yeah, I do. Wanna sit down?'

,,Yeah...''

Sitting on opposite sides of the sofa, Axl held tightly onto one of the many pillows laying there, his knuckles turning white from gripping so strongly. ,,Again, take your time, I wouldn't wanna rush you'', you reassured him, holding his hand again. ,,I...Got jealous from your stories. Remember a few days ago when you were writing? I was curious, so I read a little passage, and...I guess the description threw me off, you know, and...I overreacted. I'm sorry'', he ended with look into your eyes, tears building up. ,,Which passage exactly?'', you asked. You knew what he meant, btu you wanted the confirmation from him. ,,Should I tell you something about this?''

Axl perked up. He thought you'd go off on him, about being stupid to react like that. But no. Once again, you moved closer to him, removing the pillow and replacing it with your hand on his waist, a gesture that always helped him calm down.

,,What about it?'' The sadness was gone, replaced by curiousness. ,,That passage you read was about a character that was based on you, you know? So I guess you didn't really recognise it and in turn, felt bad about it. Or, well...Insecure. You that that character would be better than you, didn't ya?''

On one hand, he knew what you were talking about. On the other hand, he asked himself, how somebody gets jealous of their own person. But at the same time: He wasn't that you and agile anymore. He just turned 40, for goodness sake! No wonder he felt...Insecure about all of this. ,,Baby?'', he started, picking the pillow up again, but never letting your hand fall from his side. ,,This might sound dumb, but...I'm sorry for being insecure...I didn't mean to, really! It's just that...I just don't look like I used to, and...I've been trying not to think about it, you know? I'm sorry, really...''

You gave his waist a gentle squeeze before pulling him into your chest, stroking over his hair. ,,I never said you had to apologise for feeling insecure and don't ever think that again, okay? And I don't care how you look, 'cause as long as you're healthy and love doing what you do, including myself, I'll be happy. Alright with that?'' Silence was followed by a teary eyed Axl shyly looking up at you, his eyes red, You didn't even hear him cry, yet your pullover had a dark stain and some wrinkles from Axl gripping it.

,,Yeah.'' His voice was hoarse, but you could still hear some thankfulness in it. And that's all you wanted to hear.

~-~

Since that day had passed, you made it your duty to show Axl even more appreciation than you already did. Andi t worked! Sometimes you'd hear him murmur stuff about ,,looking good'' and ,,Y/N must be happy to have a guy like me''. The best part? The playfulness! There were small, even minor, details that before looked like plagues to him. Little things he didn't wanted to see. But he had found a way to make it look fun, showing it off to you every now and then. But there was still something missing.

,,Do you think I'm good enough in bed?'' The question was so awkward, but Axl had to know, because otherwise, it wouldn't have left him alone. ,,Never doubted that.'' A short answer, clear and simple. And apparently, it was enough to make his brain realise, that he didn't have to worry about it, because if there was any worry, you would've mentioned it a long time ago.

,,Ah, by the way, before I forget: Axl, these are for you. Just wanted to say that I'm proud of you.''

A bouquet of flowers. For him. Not that you haven't gotten him flowers before, but today, it felt extra special. And was at such a loss for words, he just kissed you. So softly, but full of meaning, which he continued throughout the whole evening. And for once he was really happy again, thanks to you believing in him:>

#nenynra's stuff #nenynra's thoughts #guns n roses #axl rose

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thegettingbyp2 · 1 year ago

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aaa ive never sent a request so idk if i'm doing this right but!!

can i request a billy the kid x a female character who has a terminal illness? like him comforting her after she almost dies due to her condition and it's cute and fluffy

I'm Not Going Anywhere

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You were laying on your bed, your face pale and blood speckled in the corner of your lips. You’d been suffering from consumption for the past couple of months and every day that went by, the weaker you felt. But something that made you feel even worse was watching your boyfriend stick by your side, knowing that this was hurting him too. Billy had lost his mother and younger brother to consumption a few years ago and it was killing you to put him through this again.

You were recovering from a particularly bad week or so and Billy hadn’t left your side once. He was sitting next to your bed, one of your small, cold hands wrapped in both of his big, warm hands, lifting your hands to his lips every couple of minutes or so. He even kept a damp cloth nearby in case you got hot or so he could gently wipe the blood from your lips.

‘I’m sorry,’ you practically whispered, not strong enough to speak any louder.

‘What are you sorry for?’ he asked gently, furrowing his brows slightly as he pressed his lips to your hand again.

‘Putting you through this, I would understand if you wanted to leav - ’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he replied, cutting you off, moving to the edge of his seat to be closer to you, using one of his hands to cup your cheek and stroke your cheek with his thumb as he looked into your eyes. ‘I love you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.’ You smiled at him softly as your eyes filled with tears that you refused to let roll down your cheeks as a shiver wracked your body. ‘You cold?’ Billy asked as he reached to grab another blanket for you.

‘Will you come and lay with me?’ you asked quietly.

‘You don’t need to ask,’ he said, instantly moving to lay down on the bed with you, being careful not to jostle you too much as he pulled you into his arms. You felt your body instantly relax just by being in his arms and his body heat felt amazing against your now-freezing cold body. Burying your face against him, you pressed a gentle kiss to the base of his throat, breathing in the scent that was just Billy.

‘Tell me about what we’re going to do when I get better again?’ you asked. You both knew that there was no getting better for you but you loved the way Billy would talk, how animated he’d get when he’d tell you about all the places he’d take you; it was a way for the two of you to forget about what was happening for a while.

‘Course, baby,’ he murmured, kissing the top of your head before pulling you against him tighter. ‘So, the second you’re better, I’m going to take you out on my horse and we’re going to go for a ride far away from here. We’ll go somewhere where it’s just grass and trees and we’ll spend the day just the two of us, the fresh air, no one around to bother us. And then we’ll get you a horse and I’ll teach you to ride and we can go out whenever you want, how does that sound?’

‘I can’t wait,’ you said, your voice muffled by his shirt as your tears began to track down your cheeks.

‘Me neither, how you feeling?’ Billy asked, lifting your head up to meet his gaze, his thumb wiping away your tears.

‘Tired,’ you replied with a sad chuckle as the sound of Billy’s voice paired with the feeling of his arms wrapped around you and his chest rising and falling underneath your cheek had your eyes fluttering closed.

‘Then go to sleep, love, I’ll still be here when you wake back up,’ he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, keeping his lips against your skin as you let yourself fall asleep, feeling safe in his arms.

When he realised you’d gone to sleep, Billy let a couple of his own tears fall, hating that you were the one suffering and not him; sending a silent prayer out that you’d wake up again.

#billy the kid #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney imagine #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader

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kyuteflesh · 1 year ago

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soap / f!reader

❀﹐ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

heyyy no motivation to write for a fat minute but i’ve been on my mw3 grind so it’s coming back slowly. yippeee! i 🩷 mean soap. all i think about.

⚠️: smut, mdni +18!! degradation, he’s just rude, u have no self respect smh

johnny was well aware of the chokehold he had you in. this means he didn’t really care about how shitty he was to you. you were just some dumb cunt to put his dick in whenever he had no other resort

you weren’t really his type anyway. there were plenty of other girls he found far more attractive.

you were aware of that however decided not to acknowledge it in hopes that the sex would be good enough to win him over entirely.

“yer outta your mind, yknow?” soap muttered under his breath, more focused on your body than your face

he was standing over you while you sat on the bed in front of him, your legs slightly parted as he lazily palmed both your naked chest and his naked crotch.

you nodded reluctantly and started to reach your hand out in attempts to help him but he just smacked it away with disgust.

“nah, i think we’ll just skip that for tonight.”

at a loss for words, you looked away in shame.

“sorry..”

rolling his eyes, he laid you down and placed you further back on the bed.

“you should be sorry. when will you understand that you mean nothing to me? is it not obvious?”

“how could i think that when we’re fucking every other week?”

“stupid whores these days i swear to god.” he laughed. attempting to shove himself inside of you without any preparation. “ah!- slower, it hurts..” you pressed your hands against his chest.

“i truly could care less. you’re lucky i even bother with you.” despite his cruel words, he pulled himself out and spit on your cunt, prepping you with his fingers. “there, ya happy?” he scoffed before returning his tip back to your entrance.

it wasn’t as painful as before. the feeling of pleasure was far more stronger, his thick cock stretching out your neglected sex.

john dipped his head down to the crook of your neck. the way your walls clenched tightly aound him with every deep thrust was absolutely criminal.

quickies with soap was the norm. he didn’t wanna stay for any longer than he had to. doing business promptly and leaving.

you both were close to climax. your breaths were shallow compared to his— ragged and uneven.

“please can i..?” you don’t even know why you bothered asking. this completely ruined it. soap pulled out, chasing only his own euphoria. with a few harsh jerks, he was cumming all over your stomach, a few spurts hitting your lips. “don’t ask me for nothin’. i don’t do favors for nasty cum dumps.” he scoffed, tucking himself away for the next (lord knows how long). all you could do was lay there with a sad look of pity for yourself.

you could hear him open your door. before leaving, he glanced back at you with furrowed brows. “and wipe that off your face. can’t have anyone else knowing how much of a slut you are. they might steal you away from me, ey?”

#cod mw2 smut #cod smut #john soap mctavish x reader #soap smut #john mactavish smut #soap x you #dayumm what i gotta say to get a piece of that

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lveclouds · 2 years ago

Text

↬ pairing/characters: spy wonwoo x reader, other members may be mentioned

↬ genre/aus: heavy angst, zero to no fluff (im so sorry, this fic is essentially 100% angst), non idol au, spy au

↬ summary: in which you remember the spy that loved you and how he broke your heart.

↬ rating(s): m,18+ (see warnings)

↬ tw: heavy swearing, sad ending (yep this one’s a sad one folks), mentions of injuries (brief), mild violence (mainly mentions, nothing graphic), wonwoo’s a sweetheart and also self-sacrificing:((, reader needs a huge hug, mild violence (mentions only, no actual scenes depicted), brief mentions of nightmares (brief)

↬ wc: 2.2k

↬ note: this fic was yet another one that came out of nowhere <3 i have zero self control lmao anyways the title of this fic comes from the song ‘moments’ by one direction, and this fic is also loosely based off the song as well <3 this fic WILL hurt, so i apologize in advance for the emotional damage i will cause (im sending all of you the biggest hugs) and yes i listened to an angsty playlist while writing this oops i have zero regrets

tears stung your eyes as you lay curled up in a ball on your bed, clutching a worn stuffed animal to your chest. the bear had been gifted to you by your mother when you were seven, and you'd never had the heart to give it away.

it was times like these, when your heart felt that it would shatter into a million fragments, that you were grateful for the stuffed bear's presence.

your body shook with sobs as images of wonwoo's gorgeous smile flashed across your mind. the memory of his gentle touches and kisses were burned into your skin like a brand.

and if you closed your eyes, you could still see him standing in your small kitchen, raven hair mussed, sweatpants low on his hips, humming softly to himself as he made breakfast, see the utter fondness and adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at you, cleaving your heart in two, never to be fixed or made whole again.

loving wonwoo was as easy as breathing, and you had bared yourself to him, heart and soul. he was gentle, kind, and loved with all his heart. wonwoo wasn't an overly affectionate person, but he showed his love in other ways: through quality time and acts of service.

he would always sit next to you on the spacious living room couch, nose buried in a thick paperback, glasses sliding down his nose, while you watched your favorite drama, happily munching on snacks.

wonwoo wouldn't say anything, and yet, those were the times with him that you had treasured the most. sometimes, the nights would end with you falling asleep on his shoulder, and the warmth and solidness of him was enough.

it was enough to convince you that wonwoo would forever be a permanent presence in your life. hot tears scalded your cheeks, blurring your vision, and you let out a helpless whimper, clutching your teddy bear closer to your chest. the day he left still lingered in your mind, for it'd been the day that your entire world collapsed. wonwoo hadn't yelled, hadn't screamed at you, hadn't lashed out like you'd expected him to.

instead, he had given you a sad, teary-eyed smile, strong arms wrapping themselves around you, holding you flush against him, as if he were reluctant to let go. you had sobbed into his shirt, curling your fingers in the soft fabric, the woodsy scent of his cologne hitting your nose, comforting and familiar.

"i'm sorry, love, i wish it didn't have to be this way, and leaving you, leaving all the memories we made, is the hardest fucking thing i've ever had to do, and one day, i hope you will forgive me for hurting you. i will never be able to live with myself knowing that i did, and i won't blame you if you come to resent me one day. i would."

"thank you for loving me. thank you for loving all of me, the good, the bad, the ugly, and for loving me even with all the blood on my hands, despite all the danger i put you in. the danger that you are put in because you’re with someone like me.” and, after giving you one last kiss, dizzying and enough to make you weak in the knees, he left, taking your heart with him.

you knew wonwoo’s job wasn’t exactly ordinary, as he’d often come home at ungodly hours at night, bone-tired and with the occasional cut or bruise marring his perfect skin, and you hated those nights when you’d had to patch him up, for the sight of him in pain was too much to bear.

wonwoo would sometimes be gone for days, even weeks at a time, unable to be contacted, and you would cry yourself to sleep every night, hoping and praying that he would come back to you, safe and sound.

you’d always felt safe with wonwoo. despite the ruthlessness and mercilessness he showed when dealing with the men that were always chasing after him, it was a great contrast from the gentle touches and kisses you received. wonwoo had never hurt you, had always treated you like fine china, and that to you had been enough.

it hadn’t mattered that scary looking men hunted him down every night, and wonwoo had had to close your eyes everytime he was about to defend himself and you, telling you to close your eyes. close your eyes love, i don’t want you to see this ugly, dark side of me, was what he always said.

wonwoo was a mystery, and though you had managed to get past his seemingly iron clad defenses, there were still things he kept from you. he never talked about his job, nor why he disappeared for a few weeks and came back.

when you had mustered up enough courage to ask him, wonwoo’s entire body grew tense, and you could see the fear dancing in his gorgeous light blue eyes. “do you not trust me?” you had asked, heart breaking at the thought that wonwoo didn’t trust you. devastation had flashed across his face. “of course i trust you, more than anyone in this world.” “then why? why won’t you tell me why you disappear without warning and then come back weeks or even months later? why? are you seeing someone else?”

at that, wonwoo’s jaw flexed, just slightly. “no, of course not, it’s always been you for me, no one else. i can’t tell you why i’m away for weeks and months, it’ll put us in danger if i do. especially you. but promise me love, that you will trust me? i’m trying to find a way out, a way out of this cursed life i was led to live. will you wait for me?” “yes, i’d wait a hundred years for you.”

the tears came faster now, streaming down your face like a waterfall, as you remembered how wonwoo had taken you into his arms afterwards, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, rubbing comforting circles on your back. you hated the people that had forced wonwoo to take up a career he didn’t want, and for taking away the one man you had ever loved.

”i won’t blame you if you come to resent me one day. i would.” you let out a choked sob, for you could never resent wonwoo for leaving you, even if it felt as if your heart had been ripped out of your chest. it’d been nearly two years since wonwoo had left, and that had been the last time you’d heard from him.

you’d found out what wonwoo was so hell bent on keeping from you on a rainy day, of all days, and he had been gone for three weeks. the curiosity and urge to know what wonwoo was hiding was overwhelming, and you’d decided to look through the office he’d had installed some summers ago.

after a few hours, your search had proven to be fruitless, and you’d been about to give up when you stumbled upon a worn cardboard box hidden in the closet. with shaking hands, you’d lifted the lid of the box and felt your heart drop into your stomach.

inside was a dozen or so fake ids, passports, and a plethora of classified documents that you didn’t have the courage to go through. you’d sat on the floor in a daze afterwards, mind whirring with a million thoughts, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation. wonwoo, the selfless and beautiful man you had fallen in love with, was a fucking spy.

said male had arrived home days later, and you had mustered up the courage to confront him about the box he’d hidden in the closet, hot tears streaming staining your cheeks. “am i part of your mission? did the agency want you to pretend to fall in love with me so you could get information? do you even really love me? or has our entire relationship been one complete lie?”

you’d lamented, and the look of absolute horror and devastation that had flashed across wonwoo’s face was enough to feel a pang of guilt shoot through you.

“no, never. while falling in love with you was something i never planned or expected, it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, and i will never regret it, not even if my life is on the line." you had crumpled to the ground, knees giving out as you collapsed to the floor. wonwoo had immediately rushed over to you, pulling you into his arms and holding you as you sobbed into his chest.

after that, wonwoo began to be more honest with you about his job, telling you that the reason he was away for weeks or even months at a time was because of missions that his boss had demanded him go on. you were grateful that he trusted you not to tell anyone about his job, but you couldn’t help but feel paranoid. paranoid that something terrible was going to happen to you, or god forbid, wonwoo.

and because your intuition was too sharp, you had begun to notice cars tailing you and wonwoo, particularly after dinners and outings with his friends, hoshi, woozi, dokyeom, mingyu, scoups, vernon, joshua, jeonghan, minghao, jun, and seungkwan. then, one night, wonwoo had told you to close your eyes, albeit softly.

“close your eyes, love,” he’d say, “and don’t open them until i say so.” you’d do as wonwoo would say, not daring to open your eyes until he deemed it safe. you faintly remembered the loud boom of a gun, and the loud screech of tires as wonwoo drove like a madman. there were nights where you were too scared to go out, for the fear of being followed or hunted down was overwhelming.

wonwoo had one of his friends, jeonghan, who was an expert in cyber security, install a special security system in your home, and for mingyu and minghao to watch over you while he was away on missions.

you were glad for the aforementioned males’ presence, as they were gentle and kind and always made sure you were okay. there were nights where you would wake up sobbing, due to terrible nightmares, and mingyu or minghao, who were sleeping in the guest rooms down the hall, would come rushing in and pull you into a comforting hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

the relief that would course through you whenever wonwoo would come home, unscathed from a mission, was overwhelming. there were many nights spent where he would just hold you, and you would breathe in his comforting woodsy scent, basking in the warmth and familiarity of him.

the day that he told you that his agency was relocating was the worst day of your life. you had begged him not to go, to stay and give up his dangerous career, but wonwoo had smiled sadly, taking you into his arms for the last time, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “i wish things were that simple, and i would give up my career for you in a heartbeat, but unfortunately, i can’t just up and leave, even if i wanted to.”

it hurt, everything hurt, and the last words that wonwoo had ever said to you still lingered in your mind. “promise me, love, that if our paths never cross again, if i am not able to come back to you, that you will find the strength to be happy. i won’t be able to live with myself if you aren’t happy and being loved and cherished by someone, even if it’s not me.”

hot tears scalded your cheeks as you sobbed, heart cracking and chest heaving with uneven breaths. i’m sorry, my love, but i don’t i will ever be able to move on. you were the greatest joy in my life, and now that you’ve left me, i have nothing left. i will never be able to love someone as deeply as i did you.

a/n: i’m so sorry y’all :(( i promise my next fic won’t be as depressing slkdljkjfdj anyways i hope you all enjoyed this sad fic, i honestly nearly cried writing this. i am sending you all the biggest hugs, and know that you are important and loved <3

tagging: @sketchguk , @playmetheclassics, @skyjoong , @adulttoast, @taeyo95 , @seokmins @shuashong , @joonminshua + anyone else who wants to read this :)

#mine #wonwoo x reader #seventeen

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