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#but I just felt like hey gratitude time!
withacapitalp · 1 year
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Hehehe sappy New Years post today bc yesterday did not go the way I expected. It’s still the new year day!!!
But God I do not know how to explain 2022. 
My favorite word is dichotomy. For a lot of reasons, but also because I feel like it describes my life a lot. Because 2022 was the best and worst year of my life so far. I got to teach the most amazing group of children I have ever met, and did well enough that they’re personally asking me to come back and teach there, I wrote my thesis, worked three jobs, managed to graduate on time with a double major no one had ever attempted at my college, all the while interning and volunteering on the side and going to conferences to speak about my research. 
And the entire time- as I genuinely, honestly, loved every minute- I was spiraling inside. 
It was so bizarre to me, all of the bad stuff was over, everything should have been good. Only the most amazing things were coming my way, things most people dream about getting in their lives, and I was so upset I couldn’t breathe some days. In my criminally logical brain I couldn’t understand why I was fine through everything bad, but now that things were good I really wasn’t okay. 
That’s the thing. When you’ve lived in survival mode for fifteen of the twenty one years of your life, you don’t realize the crash that comes from finally escaping the thing that was trying to kill you. I’d spent so long just getting by, that I had no idea how to live now that I had the chance. I was trying, and doing pretty well, but it just felt so…broken for lack of a better term. 
But I kept with it. I loved when I could, and I healed whatever was possible to heal.
Which brings me to August, which brings me to Stranger Things, which brings me to one of the most amazing groups of people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Friends, Confidants, Creators, Inventors…Everything. Not only did I get a reinvigorated love for my writing, but I also got just the most lovely people in the whole world. At the risk of being too sappy, something that is more valuable to me than even my writing. People who slid into my life like they had always meant to be there, who understood me in ways I never expected to be understood. 
I don’t know how to explain the absolute insanity for me of jumping into a server, having them all be on talking so fast my head was spinning, mildly considering just running for the hills bc how was I going to fit into a group that was already working so well together??, then saying fuck it and just giving them me exactly as I was, only to find they actually really liked that person, and I found that I did too. 
Love is a weird concept for a lot of people, they think it has to be something deep and sacred. I just think it’s a gut instinct kind of pull, if it's deep, it's deep, if it isn't, it's still valid and true, and I haven’t met a person in this fandom who hasn’t had that same kind of pull for me. 
From the people I’ve talked to once, to the ones I talk to every day, to the ones I don’t talk to at all who just hang out in my notes and sometimes leave tags on their reblogs (Yes I see you! I know you all by name and I get excited when I see its you in my notifications). From the people who comment on all my stories, to the ones who I see every day on my daily drabbles….I dunno it’s just really interesting to feel valued and not immediately want to shy away from that. 
My New Years resolution as always is to be more in connection with people so! If you’ve ever had the urge to talk to me pls don’t hesitate to reach out. I generally dont bite, and I tend to be an okay person haha! 
Anyway my sappy post has gotten as sappy and indulgent as I should let it be. Suffice to say that messed up kid I was in January, the one who had no clue what was coming and was afraid to hope for better, well he was finally able to let down his guard a little, and look what the universe had planned! I hate to say it, because it feels like a jinx, but I think ’23 is gonna be our year :D I'm knocking on wood aggressively as I type this, so hopefully that's enough
Tagging my mutuals/people who always make me so happy to see bc hey we all are and if y’all are being mushy I will also get to be mushy. I am sorry if I didn’t tag you it is not a ‘I don’t care’ and more a ‘I got five hours of sleep after being at the hospital for literally the entire night’ Love you guys!!!! 
 @stevethehairington @henderdads @thefreakandthehair @strawberryspence @gothbat99 @steddieassheg0es @riality-check @hexmionegranger @reindeerrobin @rougenancy @eddieunbanished @bonitabreezy @horsegirleddiemunson @maxinemaxmayfield @ruthofrhythm @willowworkswithwords @h0n3y-dw @marshmellowpaint @silverysnake @lizisodd @thelastwalkingsoul @aringofsalt @babyboyargyle @flowercrowngods @manda-panda-monium 
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Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader
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Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 475
A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!
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Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.
The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.
As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.
Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.
As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.
You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.
As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.
“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.
You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.
Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”
One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.
“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”
As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.
You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.
“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.
Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.
The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”
As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.
yourusername
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Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others
👶🍼💗💋🧸
view all comments
jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️
↘️ yourusername: 💗
caileespaeny: aweee
sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭
↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!
↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃
↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.
user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child
user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂
↘️ user5: RIGHT!
↘️ user6: oh for sure.
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sgrplumditz · 2 months
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You had his baby and he didn't know (Pt. 2)
A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback! I am so beyond grateful that you guys enjoyed the 1st part. I never fathomed to get this much attention from my first post, which means I didn’t really intend on making a part 2. But with such gratitude and motivation… here it is!
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She had told him everything, and through it all he did nothing but soothe her, keeping her small hands in his as her soft voice filled their ears. It wasn't until now that she had realized how absurd it was to feel nervous to tell him the story of her unaccompanied pregnancy, and her introduction to motherhood.
Like herself, he also held no resentment, or distaste toward the secrecy behind the conception and birth of their beautiful baby girl. Simon's only intention was to understand her and her decision to keep their child a secret from him, but in the midst of her reminiscent disclosure he couldn't help but feel alienated, guilty and a rollercoaster of many other emotions revolving her and his daughter.
His usually hard, and stoic gaze had softened for her -- which wasn't an unusual occurrence for him when it came to her, the mother of his child. "Hey, you're alright" he soothed when he noticed a stray tear race down her soft cheek. His thumb instinctively coming up to stop the salty drop of emotion in its track, and likewise she instinctively leaned into the feeling of his large hand that cupped the side of her face.
The moment was tender, intimate, comforting -- it was everything that she craved from him from the moment she found out she was carrying their child. Their baby girl seemed to be emotionally connected to her mother. The sound of her fuss and whimpering coming from the playpen where she had been placed to rest. Both her and Simon's attention was drawn to the infant the moment her restful cooing was replaced with the sounds of discomfort. Her mother knew that she was most likely hungry, but her father, Simon seemed to only be alarmed by the sudden crying. It was evident that his protective nature had taken over -- a quality of his that could not be tamed or ever be put to rest.
"She's just hungry, Si" she spoke, breaking the silence between the two. The melancholy aura of the room immediately being lifted as she chuckled softly at his high alert behavior as it only reminded her of the first few nights that she was home from the hospital with her daughter.
As she normally would she gently picked up their daughter, making sure to keep a firm hand on the back of her neck to support it. Her maternal nature was in full effect as she spoke sweet and soft words to the baby girl. Her cries being soothed, and her simple mind now distracted at the sight and sound of her mother. Simon watched this all divulge in front of him. He didn't know whether his heart ached because he had missed hundreds of moments like these or if he felt such sorrow because he didn't share the same bond with the tiny being that he helped create.
He let his the thoughts and endless "'what if" possibilities consume his mind while she prepared a bottle with the infant still resting in her arm. She was small, measuring out the length of her mother's forearm. Normally she would make the bottle with ease, but as time went by and the baby girl grew, the process slowed down. She was careful and calculated making sure that the baby was always safe in her arms.
"I can take her if you're alright with it" spoke Simon in a mildly nervous tone. “It’d make it easier for you to prepare her bottle, yeah?” he spoke again, using the feeding time as an excuse to finally hold their daughter. But he was nervous? Simon doesn’t get nervous. He has always been incredibly calm and collected to the point of mastering stoicism. He wasn’t nervous to hold the infant — that was the less of his worries.
There were so many special events that he had missed while he was away. Core memories that he doesn’t have with her or her mother. He missed the pregnancy, the first kicks, the birth, the first powerful cries from her little lungs, the first feed from her mother’s full and lactating breasts, the first skin-to-skin contact —which he read was essential for bonding in newborns, the dad walk out of the hospital after being discharged as a family — the one where he knew his overprotective nature would automatically take over.
So many factors playing into the aggregation of his nerves, but there was a single one that was keeping him on edge the most. Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to bond with the small and fragile being that shared half of his DNA. Being absent for so many critical events made him doubtful in his ability to be and feel like a genuine father. All of his nerves dwindling down and relying on this very moment.
But none of it mattered. The pessimistic thoughts that lingered in his brain practically disintegrating. As if the warmth of his daughter’s small body destroyed every doubtful fiber in his own. She was no longer just his biological daughter, but a part of him. His soul was tied to hers, his emotions was connected to hers, his breath was for her. His entire being was engulfed by her.
The baby adjusted herself in his broad, tattooed and muscular arm by leaning her small face into his chest, as if she sensed some sort of familiarity in him. Like mother like daughter.
She watched their entire interaction curiously. She saw his hardened exterior breakdown at the moment their daughter’s infant body fit into his arm like a puzzle piece. It was obvious. Just like she felt her daughter was made for her, she was just as equally made for him. The instant connection between the father and daughter was electric. This was everything she had wanted and more.
She always knew Simon would be a great father — he was a great guy after all — he was attentive, protective, polite, masculine, and so much more, but she never fathomed that it would have been as magnifying as she felt it to be.
Simon’s gaze turned to her and she swore she saw his eyes glistening, tears threatening to spill. No words were exchanged between the two, but she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. As their daughter’s mother, she felt those exact emotions as well.
She was then engulfed by his scent. His arms embracing the two most important girls in his life, but it was not just a typical embrace of joy — it was firm, passionate and filled with urgency. He needed them.
With their daughter still resting in his arm, he used his free hand to remove a stray strand of hair from her face before he firmly cupped it. A soft kiss landing on her forehead.
He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled softly before breaking the silence, “I am so proud of you” he said — his english accent thick and correlating respectively with how emotional he was.
“I am so proud of you” he repeated again, “but you are never doing anything like this alone. We do it together. As a family”.
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ln444 · 6 months
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truly madly deeply
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cw: fluff, very slight angst, comfort (reader comforting lando), you and lando are fucking in love:'(((
now playing: truly madly deeply by 1d
notes: i love requests inspired by songs pls request more of it🥺 wrote this in 30 minutes at 3am so its a bit short sry:(
requested by anon
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these past few weeks have been incredibly tough on lando, both mentally and physically. you've undoubtedly noticed and have been doing your best to support him while giving him the space he needs. lando may struggle to express his feelings in words, but he's been showing his gratitude in other ways – with small gestures and plenty of physical affection. you've been following his f1 journey closely, never missing a grand prix, and making sure you're by his side through it all. lando has never felt more loved and supported. his favorite moments are those when he can finally rest and spend time with you after a grueling race.
qualifying is tomorrow, and lando seems even more nervous than usual. you know him inside out, recognizing his little habits when he's stressed; without him saying a word, you understand the thoughts racing through his mind. the night has fallen, heightening lando's anxiety as the race draws near. he's been more affectionate than usual today, seeking comfort in your hugs and asking for extra kisses. while you love this closeness, it also concerns you. you're well aware of how hard lando can be on himself, and the thought of what he might be going through tugs at your heart.
you join him on the bed, facing him, the stars casting a soft glow on his tired face, making his eyes sparkle even more when they meet yours. "hey, pretty boy," you whisper gently, your hand tenderly cupping his cheek and stroking it. butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his body relaxes a bit. "hey, love" he whispers back, planting a sweet kiss on the palm of your hand, eliciting a smile from you.
"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls – something you know he adores. with a sigh, lando closes his eyes for a moment before locking onto yours again. he finds immense comfort in your gaze, with the rest of the world fading away each time he gets lost in your eyes.
"i don't know... i'm not feeling great about tomorrow," he admits with a hint of worry in his voice. your heart aches just hearing his concerns. you move closer, your gaze softening, and lando's heartbeat quickens. how can you have such a profound effect on him with just your eyes? it drives him crazy.
"why, baby? you don't have to worry. you're lando norris, after all!" you playfully roll your eyes, and a smile tugs at lando's lips. he takes your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, and you reciprocate with a warm smile.
"no, but seriously, what's bothering you?" you softly toy with his fingers while giving him your full attention.
"i mean, it's more of a mclaren problem than a 'me' problem," he hesitates for a moment, and you gently caress the back of his hand, encouraging him to open up.
"i don't think i belong there anymore. i don't think i can show my true potential with them." his voice is calmer now, and a sense of relief is evident.
you hum softly, and he finds the courage to continue, still focused on your hands playing together. "should i quit? but what if no one else wants me?" panic creeps into his voice, and you immediately grip his hand firmly, bringing your free hand to his cheek.
"hey, you're one of the best drivers out there. there'll always be a team that wants you. believe me, there'll always be a place for you in f1. you've worked so hard to get here, and you truly deserve it," you reassure lando. he gets lost in your eyes, feeling the depth of your love and honesty. his heart feels like it could burst at any moment.
"but i want to be the best," he pouts, and you chuckle softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips, making him smile. "you're already the best for me," you say with a gentle smile, causing lando's heart and cheeks to warm. he groans playfully, slightly embarrassed by his blushing cheeks, and your smile widens. "you're so cute; i don't think my heart can take it," you playfully whimper, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks. lando bites his lip to suppress a smile, and the sparks in his eyes intensify. you place multiple kisses on his lips, and lando can't help but chuckle. he puts his hands on yours to pause the kisses and says, "just give me a real kiss already, please," another pout forming on his lips. your smile grows bigger, and you oblige, giving him a gentle kiss.
lando pulls back to look at you, and the warm smile on his face melts your heart. "thank you," he says softly, caressing your hands. you don't really know why he's thanking you to be honest; for the kiss or for the honest words. "you don't have to thank me," you say, placing a quick peck on his lips. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what," another peck, "and i'll always be proud of you," another one, "no matter what, my pretty boy."
lando's heart has never felt this warm. in fact, his entire body feels warm right now, overwhelmed by the love he's receiving. "god, what did i do to deserve you?" he asks with a sweet and calm voice, clearly feeling better. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you."
"i know you did not just quote a one direction song," you both laugh, and lando groans, hiding his face behind your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "it's cute," you move your hands to look at him. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you too," you say with a hint of teasing in your voice, but you absolutely mean it. a big smile forms on lando's face, and you run your hands through his hair to pull him into a tender kiss.
lando's heart feels lighter, your sweet words and touch washing away all the negative thoughts for the night. if you have to repeat every single word you said to him tomorrow and the day after – every day, you will do it, again and again. lando knows it, and he has never felt so thankful.
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masterlist
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dreamescapeswriting · 29 days
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Reunions Embrace ~ HYJ
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WORD COUNT: 2.1K
GENRE: idol!AU, established relationships, SMUT MINORS DNI, blow job, unprotected sex, reader taking care of the prince as deserved,
PAIRING: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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The moment Hyunjin stepped into the house, a sense of tranquillity washed over him, filling every corner of his being with a comforting embrace. The home had been completely transformed since he left as if his absence had somehow imbued it with an even greater sense of warmth and homeliness. 
The living room was bathed in the soft glow of evening light filtering through the blinds, it felt like peace compared to the bus he'd been cramped on for months. The coffee table had a vase of fresh cut flowers placed in them, so fresh he could smell them from the doorway and his body began to relax completely but the one thing putting him into a complete state of relaxation was the smell of cooking. Not just any cooking but Hyunjin's favourite meal that was greeting him, instantly warming his heart as he went toward the kitchen in the hunt for you.
In the kitchen, he found you standing by the stove, your sleeves rolled up as you tended to a pot simmering on the stove. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of his favourite meal, a comforting blend of spices and flavours that instantly transported him back to simpler times.
"Hey, you're home!" You exclaimed, rushing over toward him and instantly wrapping your arms around him, his arms snaking around your waist as his head rested on the top of your head. This was what peace was, this was everything he ever wanted in life. To come home to you and this hug. He held you close, feeling the warmth of your embrace chase away the lingering chill of his travels. 
"I've missed you so much," he whispered, his voice filled with longing and affection. It had been far too long since he'd gotten to hold you and he wasn't planning on letting go so easily. You smiled to yourself, letting out a happy sigh as you snuggled your head into his chest. 
The two of you spoke almost every day whenever you could but it was hard when his schedule kept him so busy on tour, but you understood the risks of dating someone in his career and you accepted them. As long as he continued to come home to you, that was all you cared about. 
Slowly pulling back you looked up at him with eyes that sparkled with joy and love, you were almost afraid if you looked away he would suddenly disappear. 
"I've missed you too," You replied softly, your hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, it had grown so much longer since the last time you saw him and you knew it was going to be irritating him sooner or later.
As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude for having you in his life. Despite the distance and the challenges you faced, you were always there for him, supporting him and loving him unconditionally. No matter the rumour going around you stood by him, waiting for him to tell you his side before ever passing judgement. Always there to care for him whenever he was sick or overworked, you were always there and he couldn't have been more grateful for you.
"I can't believe you cooked my favourite meal," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 
"You really are the best." He kissed the top of your head as you grinned up at him, your eyes shining with happiness. 
"Well, I wanted to do something special for you," You said, your voice filled with warmth as you slowly went back over to the stove to make sure everything was cooking nicely. You had a whole night planned out for him and it wasn't going to end with just the meal,
"Welcome home, my love." You whispered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder while he stood with you and you cooked. And at that moment, as you stood there together, surrounded by the aroma of his favourite meal and the love that filled the air, he knew that no matter where his travels took him, he would always find his way back to you.
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After savouring every last bite of the meal you'd lovingly prepared, he felt a warmth spread through his body unlike any he had experienced before. It wasn't just the delicious flavours that filled him with contentment, but the knowledge that each bite was a tangible expression of your love and devotion. As he leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. The worries and stresses of his time away seemed to melt away with each mouthful, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude for the love of his life sitting across from him.
"Wait right here," You whispered, your voice soft and soothing, you walked over to him, pressing a kiss to his temple and smirking to yourself.
"I have something special planned for you." Without giving him a chance to respond he watched as you disappeared from the room, anticipation fluttering in his chest like a butterfly's wings. 
Moments later, you returned, your arms cradling a stack of fluffy towels and a bottle of his favourite bath oil. 
"Come with me," You said, your voice a gentle melody that beckoned him to follow, almost like a siren's call and he was up in a flash, following after you in silence.
Together, you ascended the stairs, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. As you reached the landing, you led him into the bathroom, where the air was heavy with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus.
With tender care, you began to fill the tub with warm water, the sound of rushing water a soothing symphony that filled the room. Once the tub was filled to the brim, you poured in a generous amount of bath oil, the fragrant aroma enveloping you both in a cloud of tranquillity.
"You don't have to do all of this for me," He mumbled a little, guilt weighing on him as he thought about all of the efforts you were going through for him. He'd been away so long and yet you were still doing all of this for him and a small part of him felt as though he should be the one to do this for you. 
"I want to, I missed you and want to take good care of you," You told him as you glanced over your shoulder, reading the look on his face easily and sending him a reassuring smile.
"But-"
"No buts, I want to do this and I will," You said sternly, making him chuckle a little as you stood up and turned to face him. 
"Now, it's time to relax." You whispered as you kissed him softly, slowly peeling off his clothes and dropping them into the laundry basket inside the room. Continuing to strip him and kiss his naked shoulders as you did so, smiling happily as you watched him sink further into relaxation.
Hyunjin stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm embrace of the water with a contented sigh. You knelt beside him, dipping a soft sponge into the water and beginning to wash away the cares of the day with gentle strokes. As you washed him, your touch was tender and loving, each caress a silent promise of your devotion. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself fully to the sensation of her hands moving over his skin, washing away the tension and fatigue that had accumulated during his time away.
"This is nice," He whispered, his head leaning back against the tub as you continued to wash his body gently. It was the first time touching him in a long time but it wasn't sexual, it was relaxing. 
"Lean forward." You whisper in his head, once he does you begin to run the sponge down his back, smiling as your boyfriend fully relaxes for you. 
"Thank you," He whispered as he leaned back against the tub, his eyes finding yours and smiling in a completely relaxed state. There was no place he'd rather be right now than right here,
"Anytime baby," You giggled a little, kissing him softly as he slipped further into the water, his eyes fluttering shut as you smiled leaning back against the tub enjoying him back with you. 
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Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your soft lips wrap around his hard length, he couldn't remember how you'd gotten to the bedroom but he didn't care, he was in complete bliss. Your eyes flirt with him as you sink lower onto his shaft and back up again, his moans filling the room as his eyes flutter shut,
"F-Fuck I missed this," He mumbles, his hands clutching onto the sheets as you run your tongue up and down his length, using your hand to stroke what your mouth can't reach as your head bobs up and down, tracing the veins in his skin as you suck. 
"Just like that," He moans, his gaze now on you as you looked up at him, humming around him as you continue to suck him deeper, his praises filling you with determination. You wanted this to be the perfect welcome home for him and you were going to do anything for that to happen.
"Ffuuck," He hisses, your pace quickening as you suck him and stroke him faster, pulling off him to spit on the tip before taking him back into your mouth and to the back of your throat again,
"S-Stop...S-Stop," He begs as you pull back, afraid you'd done something wrong but he brought you onto his lap, kissing you deeply and hungrily as he wrapped his arms around you.
"I want to come with you," He whispered as he lined himself up at your entrance, your hands making their way into his hair and you bit down on his lip softly. 
"I need you" You whimpered, as he slowly pushed into you, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch, it had been far too long since you'd been with one another but you needed this.
"Shit, Yn, you're so fucking tight," He groans, his head rolling back against the bed as you sank further onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his length as you breathed out a happy sigh,
"You're too big," You mumbled to him, rolling your hips slowly moving your hips in slow circles as his hands clutched onto your hips, there was no way he was going to last long, not when it had been too long since you were last together,
"Y-Yn," He stuttered out, he wanted this to be good for you too but he knew there was no chance he could make you come like this, not with how needy he was,
"This is all about you tonight," You breathed out, biting his ear softly as you slowly began to raise your hips only to let them fall again, rocking back and forth on him as he moaned your name out loudly. Your breathing went faster and shallower as you moved your hips faster on him, his hands digging into your hips as he groaned squeezing his eyes shut and trying to list off baseball players to distract him,
"Come for me baby, I missed you." You moaned out, looking down at him as he whimpered, his hips bucking wildly as he couldn't fight it anymore, the urge to come taking over him as he bucked into you, your pussy clenching around him as he thrusts harder and faster into you. Cumming suddenly as he whimpered your name out, sweat dripping down his forehead as you continued to ride him through his high.
"Maybe I should have made you bathe last," You teased, kissing his lips softly as he whimpered, unable to find words to speak at that moment.
"I'll run a fresh one and I'll join you this time," You told him, slowly getting up and smirking as you made your way to the bathroom, your boyfriend's eyes on you the whole time.
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maxtermind · 1 month
Text
if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow
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★ : summary :: as the roar of engines fades, the defeat on the track are mended in the arms of their significant other (when they lose a race) ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort; angst; fluff ★ : word count :: 2.7k
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Max Verstappen
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Max had never felt so distant from you. He had the win in his bag, he started good and was going to give it his all but was forced to retire due to a sudden engine failure while leading the race.
He was rightfully disheartened. The post-race meeting only added to his frustration as blame was thrown around instead of taking responsibility. It only got worse when he walked out of it with a, ‘This is such a waste of time.’
As he ranted in the car, his anger palpable, you listened silently, and caressed his hand when, had gotten a call from his dad.
“Just let it ring,” you whispered from the passenger seat. Your attempt was futile though before he picked up the call and put it on bluetooth in his ear.
You waited until you reached home before discreetly ending the call, giving Max a moment to compose himself. He didn’t let you hear anything but as he sat in his seat, rubbing his face to get rid of his emotions, you knew the conversation had affected him deeply.
Opening his car door, you pulled him out using his hand before getting home before you both took a shower in silence, allowing Max the space to process. It wasn't until you were tucked under the covers, clean and warm, that he finally spoke.
"I just hate feeling like I let everyone down," Max confessed, his voice heavy with guilt.
"You didn't let anyone down, Max,” you reassured him, kissing the top of his hand. “You gave it your all out there.”
"I still feel like I'm constantly disappointing everyone," Max muttered, his voice thick with frustration.
"You're not a disappointment, Max. You're a phenomenal driver, and sometimes things just don't go our way.”
"It's hard to believe that sometimes," Max admitted, his gaze distant and you realized what exactly he was thinking about right now.
"Your dad's words don't define you, Max. You're so much more than that," you said firmly, refusing to let him internalize the negativity.
"It's just… I've always looked up to him, you know? His opinion matters," Max confessed, his tone tinged with sadness.
"But you're your own person, Max. And you're incredible in your own right," you reminded him, squeezing his hand gently.
"I know, but… it still hurts," Max admitted, his shoulders slumping with the weight of it all.
"I wish I could shield you from all of this," you murmured, feeling a pang of helplessness. Your boyfriend nodded softly, looking so so so small that it was physically hurting you to even keep looking at him, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within.
"Hey, look at me," you said, gently tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "You are loved, Max. Don't ever forget that." "Thanks, Y/N. I needed to hear that," Max replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Anytime, Max. I'm here for you, through the highs and the lows," you said earnestly, offering him a comforting embrace.
He looked conflicted for a second and you were sure whatever he was about to say was going to officially break your heart into two. Max's voice was barely above a whisper when he admitted it, his expression pained,"It's just… seeing them celebrate my failure, it stings."
"I know it's tough seeing those celebrations, Max, but remember, those people celebrating are just haters who can't accept that someone is doing better than them," you said firmly, trying to inject some perspective into the situation. "Their joy comes from a place of envy, not genuine happiness. Don't let their negativity dampen your spirit."
"I hope you're right," Max said, his voice tinged with doubt. "Thanks for always being there, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you," Max said sincerely, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"You'll never have to find out, Max. I'll always be by your side.”
Lewis Hamilton
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Your heart dropped the moment you saw the tire puncture Lewis’ car in the second last lap of the race. His frustration and curses echoed through the headphones, reaching you with a painful clarity.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is all so shit!” Lewis’s distorted voice cried through the radio. “I was so fucking close!”
As much as it hurt you to listen to this, you decided to keep your emotions at bay so you could handle your boyfriend’s better. Silently making your way through the people in the paddock to the back.
The chaos and disappointment from everyone forcing your chest to hurt a little. The only thought in your mind was how Lewis was probably feeling much much worse than you right now.
You heard his car before you saw him, and when you did, the defeat etched on his face made you want to cry. Lewis seemed drained and defeated, devoid of the usual fire.
“Baby?” You called, catching his attention. He nodded at someone before making his way towards you. Pulling you into a less crowded area before wrapping his arms around your shoulder.
"I don’t think I can face the interviews and media circus after this," he confessed, his breath warm against your neck.
"Should I go get the getaway car ready?" You joked, delighted to hear a small huff from his mouth.
“Can’t really leave before that though,” Lewis replied. “I’m beat, just wish it wasn’t this close to winning.”
Realizing he needed encouragement, you took a deep breath and spoke softly.
"Lewis, it's incredibly tough luck to have a tire blowout so close to the finish line, especially when you were leading so strongly," you said, feeling his grip tighten around you. "But these moments, they test your resilience and determination."
He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as you continued to rub his back.
"I know it's hard, Lewis, but remember, every setback is just a setup for a comeback," you whispered soothingly.
"I just had my heart set on this win," he murmured, disappointment evident in his voice.
"I know, love, but sometimes things don't go as planned," you replied, offering a comforting squeeze.
"It's like the universe has it out for me today," Lewis said with a bitter chuckle.
"Maybe it's just testing how badly you want it," you suggested optimistically. "Well, it's certainly made its point," he said, a hint of bitterness lingering.
You were about to speak again when he interrupted.
"I just wish it had been enough."
"It will be next time," you said confidently, refusing to let him dwell on the defeat.
"I hope you're right," Lewis said, a hint of determination creeping back into his voice. "Thanks for always believing in me.”
"Always, Lewis. That's what lovers are for," you said, smiling warmly at him, admiring his eyes that had some of their shine back intact.
Carlos Sainz
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The relief you felt when Carlos walked out of the safety car before making his way towards you was indescribable. From the moment his car collided with another due to a racing incident until now, with his arms around your shoulders, you hadn't taken a single calm breath.
It was probably less brutal than what was shown on the screen, given that it happened so fast that none of the drivers had even processed what was happening. Still the incident had left you with a knot of dread in your stomach.
Carlos was okay, you repeated to yourself, but it didn't quell the pounding of your heart or the trembling of your hands. You were trying to stay composed but it was really hard while your boyfriend talked to someone from the team, frustrated that he had to retire so soon.
"Hey, at least you're still in one piece," you pointed out, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation but it sounded dry and that was when Carlos took a good look at you, his gaze sharpening as he realized how shaken you were. "Babe, are you alright?" Carlos asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to touch your trembling hand.
"I'm fine, just a bit shaken," you admitted, forcing a shaky smile as you tried really hard to stay in the present and not let your brain run rampant.
"I'm so sorry you had to see that," Carlos said, his eyes filled with regret as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. Knowing that he would’ve been the same if it was the other way around.
"I promise I'll be more careful out there," Carlos vowed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"I'm just glad you're okay," you whispered, burying your face in his chest as you finally allowed yourself to let go of the tension you had been holding.
"It's not your fault, Carlos. These things happen in racing-”
"I know, but I hate putting you through this," Carlos said, his voice filled with remorse. "Let's forget about the race for now, okay? We'll focus on us."
"That sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you leaned into his warmth, longing to put the ordeal behind you.
"I love you so much," Carlos said earnestly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you. Hands holding you tight against him, grounding you so you could understand that he was real and wasn’t going anywhere.
"Let's get out of here and grab some dinner, just the two of us," Carlos proposed, eager to shift your focus away from the day's events as he led you towards the exit. Mentally making a list of things he would tell you to take your mind off of what happened today.
Charles Leclerc
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You found yourself seething almost as much as Charles after yet another podium slipped away due to a messed up pit stop. It lasted more than a fucking forever at such a pivotal moment in the race.
It really made you wonder whether his team was even working with him or deliberately against him to make sure that neither of them could score more points. He had opted to stay silent, shutting out the media and team meetings, and unfortunately, that meant withdrawing from you too.
“Charles?” You asked after giving him ample time to process the race in the sitting room all alone like he requested.
He simply hummed before taking a sip of whatever his glass held before you carefully took it from his hand and put it on the table. Crawling into his lap to make sure he knew he could lean on you.
"This isn't the solution," you whispered, pointing to yourself. "Talk to me. Mid-life crises are lighter when shared."
“I don’t think I have the brain to make a correct decision ever.”
"Hey, don't say that," you said firmly, looking into his eyes with a mixture of concern and determination. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there, Charles. One pit stop mishap doesn't change that," you assured, brushing a stray hair from his face.
"But it keeps happening, Y/N," Charles replied, his voice heavy with frustration. "I know, love, and it's unfair. But you can't let it define you," you said, cupping his cheek in your hand.
"I understand how frustrating it is, Charles," you said, your voice soft but determined. "But dwelling on what went wrong won't change anything."
"What do you suggest, then?" Charles asked, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Let's analyze what happened today. Break it down step by step," you suggested, gently guiding him to a more constructive approach. "Let's start with the pit stop. What went wrong there?" you prompted, encouraging him to identify the specific issues.
"It was a miscommunication between the crew members," Charles recalled, his brow furrowing with concentration.
"Okay, so how can we prevent that from happening in the future?"
"Maybe we need to implement clearer communication protocols," Charles suggested, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.
"That sounds like a solid plan. Let's discuss it with your team tomorrow," you said, nodding in agreement.
"But what if they don't listen to me?" Charles wondered, his confidence wavering.
"You're their driver, Charles. Your input is invaluable. They'll listen," you assured him, offering a reassuring smile.
"I feel a bit better now," Charles admitted, a hint of relief in his tone. “I was just so lost, I should've talked to you a bit sooner.” Your boyfriend whispered before leaning down and dropping a soft lingering kiss on your lips, conveying what words couldn't. "I'm lucky to have you, Y/N."
"And I'm lucky to have you, Charles. We make a great team," you replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
Lando Norris
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The usual smile was off of Lando’s face. He faced an unavoidable collision with another car in the chaotic start of the race, resulting in damage to his car and an early retirement. Though he tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, the tension in his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze betrayed his true emotions.
Lando was typically a laid back playful guy who was always joking around, had retreated into himself on this dismal day, with even the reporters giving him a wide berth. No one has seen him this dejected before and it was killing you.
However, as soon as the race concluded, it was clear why he was keeping up appearances. Lando pecked your cheek and told you to stay put before following the rookie who had collided with his car.
Alarm bells rang in your head and you were right behind him, stopping him using his shoulder.
“Babe, maybe it's best to cool down before confronting him.” You saw him sigh and open his mouth to retort but you were quicker. “Walk with me.”
You understood him obviously, knowing that the incident was beyond his control and shattered his hopes for a strong finish.
"I can't just let it slide, Y/N," Lando said, his voice tight with frustration as he glanced back towards the rookie's garage.
“I understand, Lando, but lashing out won't change anything, you said gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm, relieved when he finally started walking away.
"I just feel so helpless," Lando admitted, his shoulders slumping with defeat.
"You're not helpless, Lando. You're just taking a moment to process everything," you reassured him, placing a gentle kiss against his lips.
"It's just hard to stay positive when everything feels like it's falling apart," Lando confessed, his usual optimism dimmed by disappointment. "I just hate feeling like I'm at the mercy of circumstances.”
"I know, love. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together," you assured him, intertwining your fingers with his. “You, me and the team. He’s going to face penalties anyway.”
"I just wish I could turn back time and avoid that collision," He sighed, letting you drag him to a park nearby for a walk.
"I understand, love. But dwelling on what could have been won't change the present. Let's focus on what we can do now," you suggested, leading him away from the chaos of the race track.
"But what if this affects my standings in the championship?" He wondered aloud, his brow furrowing with worry, a pout evident on his face.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, babe. Right now, let's focus on taking care of you," you said, your voice filled with determination. "Let's just take this walk and clear our heads, okay? If you still want to talk to him later, I’ll support you."
He was extremely grateful that you pulled him away at the time because not even an hour later, the rookie approached him and apologized for his mistake.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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nouearth · 4 months
Text
my favorite scent is you.
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bruce wayne x male reader.
summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).
wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.
notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.
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“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”
It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.
Just a little more, and you’ll break free.
It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.
“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”
“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”
“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”
Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”
“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 
“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”
“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”
“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.
“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.
“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”
“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”
“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 
“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 
“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.
You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 
He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.
“Let me take care of you now.”
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You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.
Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.
I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…
Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?
You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.
Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.
“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”
The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.
Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…
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The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 
As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.
Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.
Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.
After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.
“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.
White musk.
The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.
Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.
“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.
“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.
I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.
He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.
Again, as he throbbed.
And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 
Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.
The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).
His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.
“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.
He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.
Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”
Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.
What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.
Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.
I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.
He was close.
Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.
Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 
“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.
Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.
Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 
“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.
I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.
He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.
Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.
Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.
Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.
“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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midastouch013 · 20 days
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Exes And Stomach Flus
Based on this request
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Summary: You just came back from a horrible date, so what happens when you hear your ex throwing up on you way back.
Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Self-loathing (N). Break ups. Throwing up. Sick Nat
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The echoes of a disastrous date reverberated in your mind as you trudged through the walls of the avengers compound. The evening had been a train wreck, courtesy of a pick-me chick whose incessant need for validation grated on your last nerve.
The terrible evening was a stark reminder of why you had distanced yourself from the dating scene in the first place. But even as you tried to push the memories aside, thoughts of Natasha flooded your mind, bringing with them the pain of your breakup.
It had been months since Natasha ended things, leaving you with more questions than answers. There were no explanations, no closure—just a void where your relationship had once thrived. In the aftermath, you had retreated from the avengers, fearing having to see her, seeking solace in solitude as you tried to heal the wounds she left on you.
And so when you reached Natasha's door, yours just 3 more down, you hesitated. Sighing heavily, ready to go to your room and drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine.
You, however, stopped when a muffled sound caught your attention—a retching, guttural sound that sent a pang of concern through you and before you knew it, against your better judgment, your hand was knocking softly on her door.
"Natasha?" you called out, pushing the door open cautiously. The bed had been abandoned but the bathroom lights glowed, and the sight that greeted you was unexpected, yet strangely familiar. There she was, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, hunched over the toilet, a ghost of her usual composed self. The sound of her sickness echoed in the room, stark against the backdrop of her vulnerability.
You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "Hey," you murmured softly, approaching her side. "Are you okay?"
"I'll survive," she said cold and abrupt, although the weakness showed clearly
And that made you falter, feeling like an intruder in her space. The pain of being near her, yet so far from the intimacy you once shared, threatened to overwhelm you. You considered leaving, seeking solace in the company of someone—anyone—but the sight of Natasha's vulnerability rooted you to the spot.
"Nat," you murmured softly, torn between your desire to help and the ache in your heart. "Do you want me to get Clint or someone else?"
You were sure she'd ask for Clint, Wanda at the least, but Natasha's response was immediate, a desperate plea that cut through the air like a knife, a stark contrast to the previous response. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.
"Nat-asha, I don't know if this is a good idea," you protested weakly, your heart torn between conflicting emotions.
And for the first time in the last few months, her eyes look up at yours with a silent plea in her eyes. A look you knew all too well—a silent request for comfort, for you to be there in her time of need.
Despite the turmoil within, your heart couldn't ignore the silent plea in Natasha's eyes, nor the desperation in her weakened voice as she begged you to stay.
“Please”
For what felt like an eternity, you battled with your own emotions, protesting weakly against the overwhelming urge to leave. But with each passing moment, Natasha's grip on your hand tightened, her silent plea resonating within you, until finally, with a heavy sigh, you relented.
"I'll stay," you whispered softly, the words barely above a breath, yet weighted with the depth of your emotions.
Natasha's relief was palpable, a flicker of gratitude shining in her eyes as she leaned into your touch. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the quiet of the room, the silence, not for long though, as she hunched over the toilet again.
As Natasha retched again, you winced in sympathy, a pang of sorrow tightening your chest. Without hesitation, you moved closer, your hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she endured another wave of sickness.
"It's okay, Nat," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of her distress. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."
Natasha's only response was a weak nod, her grip on your hand tightening as she struggled to regain her composure. Despite the pain etched on her features, there was a quiet determination in her eyes—a silent acknowledgment of your presence and the strength it brought her.
As the waves of nausea subsided, you helped Natasha to her feet, her body trembling with weakness. With careful movements, you guided her to the bathroom sink, supporting her as she rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face.
"Can you stand?" you asked softly, concern lacing your voice, when you realised she had finished throwing up.
With a determined nod, Natasha attempted to rise, but her legs wobbled beneath her, threatening to give way. Without hesitation, you stepped forward, your arms wrapping around her waist to steady her.
"I've got you," you murmured reassuringly, your voice a gentle anchor in the sea of uncertainty.
Together, you guided Natasha to the sink, supporting her as she leaned against the counter. With trembling hands, you picked up the toothbrush, applying toothpaste with careful precision.
"Here, let me help," you offered, your touch gentle as you guided the brush along Natasha's teeth. With each stroke, you could feel the tension in her body easing, her breaths coming easier as the discomfort began to fade.
As you helped her rinse her mouth and splash water on her face, you couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability she displayed—the quiet strength that lay beneath her fragile exterior. She'd only ever shown you this few months after you started dating, and that was after you had admitted that you loved her.
With Natasha leaning against you for support, you guided her to the bedroom, your movements slow and deliberate. You helped her change into fresh clothes, your touch a silent reassurance of your presence.
You settled Natasha into bed, ensuring she was comfortable before taking your place on the opposite side, leaving a significant space between you.Then, in the stillness, you heard what seemed to be a small sniffle, followed by another. And another. And soon enough the sound of Natasha's silent tears filled the room. 
As Natasha's tears fell and she let out her first sob, something she never does, only ever silently crying, your concern intensified, your heart pounding with worry. "Nat, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but urgent, reaching out to touch her trembling shoulder that faced away from you.
She recoiled slightly, as if your touch startled her, before finally turning around and meeting your gaze with eyes brimming with pain. "You… you'll hate me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own cries.
Your brow furrowed in confusion, your own heartache mixing with concern for her. "Tasha, whatever it is, you can tell me," you urged gently, your voice tinged with worry.
“The reason-” she cracked, unsure of what to say, “The reason we broke up-” 
With a shaky breath, Natasha hesitated, her lips parting as if she struggled to find the right words. "It wasn’t you, it was me," she finally managed, her voice thick with emotion.
A surge of frustration and anger rose within you, the pain of her abrupt departure still fresh in your mind. "What do you mean, it's not me? You ended things without a word, Natasha!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion. "You left me without any explanation, and now you expect me to believe it's just you?"
As the words spilled from your lips, a torrent of hurt and betrayal and partially confused with why she was bringing it up in the first place, Natasha flinched, as if your words were a physical blow.
She let out a shaky breath.
"I felt unworthy… like all I could offer you was pain and darkness," she confessed, her voice trembling with self-condemnation. "I'm a monster, and you deserve so much more than that."
Natasha's confession struck you like a dagger, each syllable driving a wedge deeper into your heart. Your throat tightened with unshed tears as you listened to her unravel before you, her voice trembling with pain and anguish.
"I'm broken, Y/n," she choked out, her words a broken whisper against your chest. "I don't deserve your love... I don't deserve anyone's love."
Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, her words a painful echo of her inner turmoil, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. The weight of her self-loathing bore down on you like a crushing weight, threatening to break you more than you were by the breakup. And as she broke down before you, her sobs echoing in the darkness, you knew that you couldn't let her face this pain alone.
With sure hands, you quickly gathered her into your arms, pulling her into your chest despite the resistance in her movements. She pushed against you with all her strength, her cries of anguish muffled against your shoulder as she tried to push you away. But you held on, refusing to let go, your grip firm and unwavering as she struggled against you.
With each push, each desperate attempt to break free, your heart broke a little more, the pain of her rejection cutting deep into your soul. But you refused to give up, your love for her outweighing the ache in your heart. And so you held her close, whispering soothing words into her ear as she fought against you, her cries growing louder with each passing moment.
But slowly, oh so slowly, the resistance began to fade, her struggles growing weaker as the tears continued to fall. And as she finally collapsed against you, her body trembling with exhaustion, you held her close, your arms a silent refuge in the midst of the storm.
Gently, you brushed the tears from her cheeks, your touch tender as you cradled her close.
"Nat," you began softly, your voice a soothing balm in the darkness. "You're not everything you claim to be."
With a shaky breath, you launched into a heartfelt monologue, your words pouring forth much like the contents of her breakfast, lunch and dinner, a few moments prior
"You're not a monster, Nat," you asserted, your voice unwavering. "You're one of the bravest people I know. You escaped the Red Room, survived it. When Clint and I gave you a chance, you took it, you took it and never looked back. You're not broken—you're a survivor."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you continued, recounting the countless moments of humor and warmth that Natasha brought into your life. From her dry wit to her fierce loyalty, each trait painted a picture of a woman far far far away from the despicable figure she saw herself as.
"And let's not forget how you save millions of people, on a weekly basis" you added, a note of pride in your voice. "You risk your life all the time, from stopping bombs from detonating to fighting aliens conjured by gods, and because of you, countless lives were spared. That's not the mark of a monster—that's the mark of a hero."
"And don't even get me started on the cute things you do," you teased gently, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Like the way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating, or the way you pretend to hate it when I steal the last slice of pizza. Those quirks, they make you who you are. They make you human."
Leaning in, you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Tasha, you deserve the world," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. 
"You in the months we were together made me the luckiest and happiest person in the world, just by being next to me. And no matter what lies in your past, no matter what mistakes you think you've made, I'll always see you for the incredible person you are."
Despite the tears still lingering in her eyes, Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at your words, a faint glimmer of light returning to her gaze.
Natasha's tear-stained eyes searched yours, a glimmer of hope flickering within them. "You really think so?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," you replied, your own voice filled with conviction. "As a matter of fact, I know so"
She gave you a small smile which didn't last long as her stomach lurched again and she was scrambling out, from under the covers.
As Natasha rushed up from the bed, the urgency in her movements palpable, you couldn't help but spring into action once more. Hurrying after her, you offered your support, holding back her hair as she retched into the toilet once more. The sound tore at your heart, a stark reminder of her vulnerability in this moment of weakness.
Once she had finished, you helped her back to bed, guiding her gently until she was settled against the pillows. As she leaned back against you, her breathing labored, a moment of vulnerability passed between you, her words hanging heavy in the air.
"I still love you," Natasha whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the room.
You froze, her admission catching you off guard. "I… I just got back from a date," you stammered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
The hurt flickered in Natasha's eyes, a guardedness settling over her features once more. With a determined look, she tried to sit up, as if preparing to distance herself once more.
But you couldn't let her, you wouldn't. Without hesitation, you reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Nat, wait," you urged, your voice filled with urgency. "I'm… I'm still in love with you too."
And that seemed to click in her head as she relaxed in your arms again but a small tension lingered in the air, the weight of your admissions still hanging heavy between you. And, just as the silence threatened to become suffocating, you felt a spark of mischief flicker within you.
"Well, I suppose that's one way to get back with your ex," you quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
Natasha's chuckle was music to your ears, a soft melody that chased away the lingering tension in the room. "I guess you're right," she replied, her voice laced with amusement, before adding. "I'd kiss you right now if my mouth didn't taste of puke."
The humor in her words caught you off guard, a burst of laughter bubbling up from deep within you. "Well, that's a mood killer if I ever heard one," you joked, the laughter easing the weight from your shoulders.
And so, a toothbrush and paste later, you finally got to kiss the ruby red lips of the love of your life again. Knowing that it only got better from this.
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qtboni · 10 months
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╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 !
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PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader
OVERVIEW: Despite Simon's difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you.
C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses, don't worry.
W/C: 1.3k bubs
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Little gestures demonstrate Simon's deep affection for you.
So it's not unusual for you to find a steaming hot coffee sitting on top of your desk, with a sticky note on it, greeting you a nice 'Have A Great Day,' and an affirming 'I Love You.' message at the end.
This small but meaningful gesture of affection is one of the many ways Simon shows you how much he cares, even when he struggles to express his emotions verbally. It's a small but powerful reminder that you matter to him and that he's always thinking of you, even while pursuing his calling as a soldier, as a lieutenant.
Regardless of the day or circumstances, you can always count on this tiny but thoughtful act of kindness from Simon.
You set the coffee cup down, feeling warm and cared for by the lovely gesture. And as you start your day, you can't help but feel grateful for his presence in your life. Even when he's not physically present, you know that his love is always with you, and that's more than enough.
So you smile, take a deep breath, and start your day with a clear mind and a full heart, knowing that you're one of the lucky ones who has a partner that cares so deeply.
You have Simon, and that's more than just a sticky note with a sweet message - that's true love, and it's something you cherish every day.
As you take another sip of the coffee, you look up and see Simon standing in the doorway, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey," he whispered.
Today was one of the days when Simon got to escape the monotony of daily military duties and just relax at home with you. He had traded in his usual military fatigues for a cozy black t-shirt and sweatpants, giving him a chance to take it easy. He even left his famous skull mask and balaclava behind, a sign of just how much he trusted you as his significant other.
Instead of the formidable Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley, the fearless soldier, here you saw a soft-spoken Simon, your Simon, who had let down his guards and chosen to be vulnerable with you. It was a moment of pure intimacy between the two of you, a precious break from the chaos of the world outside.
"How's the coffee?" He continued, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Is it to your liking?"
"Of course it is," you reply, smiling at him. "I always appreciate it when you take the time to do something like this for me."
It's a small thing, but it means a lot.
Simon's face lights up as you speak, and he takes a step forward, reaching for your hand. You can see the love in his eyes, even though he isn't always the best at showing it with words. "I'm glad you like it," he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
You feel your heart swelling with emotion, and you lean forward to give him a kiss. "I love you, Si'," you whisper. "And I appreciate everything you do for me. Thank you."
With a smile on his face, Simon leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You both savor the moment, savoring the warmth of the coffee, the love that you share, and the comfort of each other's arms.
As you slowly pull away, Simon looks into your eyes, his expression softer and more open than usual. You can see the gratitude and affection in his eyes, and you feel a warmth in your chest that you've never felt before.
"I love you too," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I don't know how I'd get through life without you by my side."
You smile, feeling a swell of love in your heart. Simon takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, you both just stand there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence.
It's a small moment, but to you, it's everything.
After sharing another smile, Simon goes back to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. The sound of the refrigerator opening and closing fills the room as he takes out the creamer.
"Sugar?" Simon asks with a grin, gesturing towards the sugar jar.
"Yeah, just a pinch," you reply with a smile.
Simon adds a little bit of sugar to your cup and then to his. As the steam rises from the hot coffee, Simon takes a sip from his cup and lets out a satisfied groan.
"Ah, that hits the spot!" he says with a smile.
You also take a sip of your coffee and let out a contented sigh. "It's perfect, as always," you say, looking up at Simon.
"Thanks," he replies, smiling back at you. "I just wanted to show you a little extra affection this morning." He shyly averts his gaze from yours, blushing as he do so.
"Well, it definitely wasn't necessary, since you always make me feel loved and appreciated," you say with a smile. "But it was still a really sweet gesture, means a lot to me."
Simon nods and takes another sip of his coffee, seemingly lost in thought. "I just... I know that I'm not always the best at showing you how much I love you with words," he says after a few moments. "So I wanted to do something to make sure you know that I care."
"Simon," you say, putting your cup down on the table. You walked up to where he was standing and cupped his face gently, caressing as you do so. "You don't need to worry about that. I know that you love me. And as much as I love those little notes and gestures, it's the everyday things that you do that show how much you care. Like making me coffee in the morning... you're always there for me, no matter what. And that means more to me than anything else in the world."
Simon looks at you with a soft smile on his face, his eyes shining with adoration. And for a moment, you both just sit there in silence, basking in the comfort and warmth of each other's presence.
Simon takes a deep breath, feeling the warmth from your hands and the love in your words. He looks into your eyes and sees the love and gratitude that you have for him. It makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world, to have someone like you by his side.
"You're everything to me, you know that?" Simon leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. It's a soft, sweet kiss, filled with all the love and affection he has in his heart. In that moment, you both know that you're exactly where you're supposed to be.
With a soft smile on your face, you lean back, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup in your hands and the warmth from Simon's love in your heart. It's a moment of pure contentment, a reminder of just how fortunate you are to have each other.
You pecked his cheeks so softly, and Simon can't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him. Your kind words fill his heart with joy and he appreciates the love and support you provide him on a daily basis.
He knows that he doesn't always show it, but being able to show himself in this vulnerable state makes him realize just how lucky he is to have you in his life.
You make him feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and he is so grateful for it. You are his everything, and he can’t imagine living his life without you. "Thank you for being my person, my love. I love you."
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A/N: Here is my take on a cod character! I know it's not the best and I might've made simon kinda ooc, but I just couldn't help but to have a softy Simon Riley today ><
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adiraargent · 4 months
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He doesn't deserve you - Mattheo Riddle
Synopsis: Mattheo is your best friend and doesn't like your boyfriend Warnings: swearing, suggested toxic relationship
Requests are open :)
The Hogwarts corridors buzzed with students rushing to and fro, their chatter and laughter filling the air. Amidst the bustling crowd, you tried your best to navigate your way through the bustling crowd, feeling a weight on your shoulders that wasn't just from your bag full of textbooks.
"Hey, Y/N!" A voice called out, and Mattheo Riddle appeared at her side, a small smile on his face, one that he pretty much reserved for only her. The two of them had been best friends for years now, trusting each other more than anyone else
"Hey, Theo," you replied, trying to match his enthusiasm, though your smile faltered slightly. Thoughts of your boyfriend had been weighing on your mind for the last hour after one of the Slytherin girls had muttered a few words under her breath at the beginning of potions class.
You hadn't heard what she had said word for word, but you did manage to make out the part where she had said 'why is he even with her, he could do so much better?'
"What's wrong?" Mattheo asked, his voice holding a joking tone "Someone take a shit in your coffee this morning?" but his grin faltered a little as he caught the sad glimpse in her eyes, "hey? What's wrong?"
You hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one was listening before you spoke in a hushed tone, almost like you were embarrassed or ashamed. "It's just… I don't know if I belong where I am."
Mattheo's gaze softened, and he leaned in slightly, an intent yet confused look in his eyes. "What do you mean?" His earthy eyes flickered over her face, switching between her pretty eyes, her slightly chapped lips which he could tell she had been gnawing at (something she did when she was anxious) and her cute freckles.
"It's just… my boyfriend, you know," you began, your voice filled with uncertainty. "He's in the year above us and he's so smart and popular, and… sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for him. Like he's too good for me, ya know what I mean?."
You forced yourself to look up at your best friend, curious as to what his reaction would be. You felt your cheeks flush red in embarrassment as you noticed the unreadable look on his face. Maybe I'm just over thinking? You opened your mouth to say something, hoping to put it behind you and escape an awkward situation but Mattheo cut you off.
"Too good for you? Don't be ridiculous. They don't deserve you." Mattheo's expression shifted, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and disbelief.
You chuckled weakly, feeling lucky to have someone like Mattheo as your friend, but you know he was only saying it because he felt like he had to. "You're biased, Mattheo. You're my best friend."
"I'm not biased," he insisted, a hint of urgency in his voice. "I know you, love. You're kind, smart, and one of the most genuine people I've ever met. Anyone would be lucky to have you."
You met his gaze, feeling a mix of gratitude and doubt. "I wish I could believe that."
"You should," Mattheo replied firmly. "You're worth more than you give yourself credit for."
As they walked, you couldn't shake off the doubts that lingered in your mind, wondering if you truly belonged with someone like your boyfriend. He was a year older, had beautiful green eyes and nice brown hair too, plus he was one of the smartest Slytherins in his year.
Mattheo, on the other hand, couldn't fathom why she would ever doubt her worth. He hated that she didn't see what he saw.
Days passed, and you found yourself spending more time with Mattheo, seeking solace and comfort in his conversations. He was always there to lift your spirits and now that exams were coming up, the two of you could help each other out with study.
One afternoon, the two of you sat by the lake, the sunlight dancing on the water's surface as you sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. You played with the hair tie on your wrist, your head slightly sore from the ponytail that you had your hair in the whole day, happy that you could let your hair down now.
"y/n/n," Mattheo began, his tone gentle but firm, "you need to stop doubting yourself."
"I'm fine Theo," you sighed, letting out a soft sigh as you gazed out at the lake in front of you, your eyes lighting up slightly as you watched some fish jump out then back in, playing around.
"You're not," Mattheo insisted, he bumped your shoulder softly, making you look over at him, his eyes locking with yours. "Your boyfriend is a dick and you're sitting here wondering if you're good enough for him? He stands you up all the time, laughs at you and doesn't stick up for you when his friends say shit about you."
"Theo..."
"I know you wont listen to me cause you're stubborn as shit, but believe me when I tell you, you're better off without him," Mattheo sighs
The conversation lingered in the air, but before they could delve deeper, footsteps interrupted their moment. Your boyfriend approached you both, a smirk on his face as he greeted you.
"Hey, babe," he said casually, barely acknowledging Mattheo's presence.
"Hey," you replied softly, feeling a twinge of discomfort.
"Ready to go?" he asked, already turning to leave.
You glanced at Mattheo, who met your gaze with a subtle look of concern. You winced slightly as you subconsciously bit the inside of your cheek, going to stand up
Mattheo looked up at him, a blank look on his face, "Actually, mate we were kinda in the middle of talking about the potions assignment we're working on together."
Your boyfriend scoffed, "cant you talk about that shit later man? My mates and I were gonna go down and grab some food and shit from the kitchens and the elves always give us more when y/n is there since they like her."
"Well as I said, we're kind of busy," Mattheo snapped, his voice dangerously low.
Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and looked at you, "get up, lets go," he grumbled waiting for you to stand up, but you didn't move.
Her boyfriend raised an eyebrow, a hint of annoyance crossing his features. "Fine. Suit yourself."
As he walked away, you felt a mix of relief and uncertainty wash over you. She turned to Mattheo, a silent question in her eyes.
"You deserve better than that," Mattheo said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. "You deserve someone who sees your worth and values you for who you are. Plus he's just a dick overall"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Do you really think so?"
"I know so," Mattheo replied firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're one of the best people I know, and you deserve someone who sees that."
You nodded, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions as you watched your boyfriend disappear into the castle. Mattheo's words echoed in your mind, a voice of reason amid your doubts.
*
Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself reassessing your relationship. Mattheo had been consistent with his whole 'I hate your stupid ass boyfriend' thing, which didn't really help any of your doubts.
However it had seemed to have opened your eyes a bit. You began to notice how close your boyfriend would get to other girls, picked up on his snarky remarks that he would mutter under his breath when you would say stuff, the way he'd just sit there and even sometimes laugh when his friends would say something about you.
One evening, as you sat in the library, your boyfriend approached you, his expression plain and care free.
"Hey, Y/N," he began, a note of hesitation in his voice. "I've been thinking… I'm not sure this is working out."
You felt your hear skip a few beats, a mix of emotions flooding through you. She looked up to meet his gaze, surprised yet oddly relieved
"Okay," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. In all honesty, you saw it coming.
"Okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at you, "that's it?"
"What? Did you expect her to beg you to stay?" a voice spoke up. You felt your eyes widen at the familiar tone
"Theo?" You asked in shock, turning in your seat to see Mattheo standing behind you, glaring at the boy who was standing in front of you
Your boyfriend ex-boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes, "fuck off Riddle," he sneered, taking a step forwards. Mattheo took a step closer to him, not cowering in the slightest as he dug his hands into his pockets, a cold look on his face
"You said your point, you can leave now," Mattheo said plainly. Your ex rolled his eyes, huffing a 'whatever' before turning around and leaving.
You sat there, feeling a sense of freedom mingled with uncertainty.
"Are you okay?" Mattheo asked gently, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"I think so," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "It's just… unexpected."
Mattheo's hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Sometimes unexpected things are for the best."
They sat in silence, the weight of the moment hanging between them. You found yourself feeling a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, and a tinge of regret. You glanced at Mattheo, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.
"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For everything."
"Always," Mattheo replied with a small smile, his eyes filled with understanding and support. He had been there for a long time, stuck by her side through everything.
And all he could do was hope that one day, she would love him just as much as he loved her.
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missukiyo · 1 month
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NOT WITH(OUT) ME
— ex bf! suguru geto x reader
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. four months into your breakup, running into your ex with his new special someone forces you to confront lingering feelings that you thought you had buried.
tags: angst, hurt no comfort, no curse au, pining, jealousy, hinted insecurities, lmk if i’ve missed any!
word count: 1.7k
a/n: instead of studying for my upcoming uni tests, this is what i do instead… procrastination who?
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Four months.
It had been four months.
Four months since you and Suguru had called it quits. Four months since he had gently explained that he no longer felt the same way. Four months since he admitted that he needed space and time to focus on himself.
The breakup had been amicable, with both of you realizing that your paths were no longer aligned.
Suguru had been kind and understanding, expressing his gratitude for the time you had spent together. It was a bittersweet moment, but you had accepted it and moved on.
Or so you thought.
As you walked through the bustling markets of Shibuya, you caught a glimpse of Suguru out of the corner of your eye.
He was with a girl, her laughter filling the air as she leaned into his side.
The girl talking to Suguru was the epitome of beauty, the kind that belonged on the glossy pages of Vogue. Her pixie-cut brown hair framed her sharp features perfectly, accentuating her high cheekbones and the soft curve of her jawline. Her hazel eyes resembled pools of liquid honey, illuminating in the sunlight.
Your heart clenched at the sight, a pang of jealousy twisting in your stomach. How could he already be with someone new? It hadn't even been that long since you had broken up.
Suguru looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when he finally noticed you standing only a few meters away from them. "Hey, how have you been?" His tone was somewhat warm, genuine even. For a mere second, it was as if no time had passed between you, as if everything was still the same.
You forced a smile, trying to mask the hurt that was bubbling beneath the surface. "I've been good," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. "Who's that?" you gestured to the girl beside him, trying to keep your tone casual.
Suguru glanced at the girl, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. "This is Rei. Y/N, meet Rei. Rei, meet Y/N," he introduced her, his eyes filled with warmth. "She's a friend from work."
You felt a surge of relief at his words. Rei was just a friend, nothing more. Maybe there was still a chance for you and Suguru to mend things, to find your way back to each other.
As you tried to compose yourself, Rei spoke up, her voice pleasant. “It’s really nice to meet you!”
You managed a tight smile, trying to calm yourself down. “Likewise,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.
She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend. She’s just a friend.
Yet despite his somewhat reassuring words, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more between them. The warmth in his eyes, the gentle smile playing on his lips, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long... It all mirrored the way he used to look at you.
Despite his words, his actions spoke volumes. The way he leaned in slightly closer to Rei, the way his hand brushed against hers as they talked, it was all too familiar. The way he used to look at you like that, almost as if you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered but the two of you.
But as you studied the way Suguru and Rei interacted, the easy camaraderie between them, you couldn't shake the feeling that they were more than just friends.
Rei grabbed Suguru's arm excitedly, pointing to a trendy boutique. "Sugu, pleaseee, can you buy me that cute jacket? I promise I'll wear it all the time," she pleaded, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.
“Don’t you already have enough of those?” He asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Rei groaned as she held onto his arm even tighter. “C’mon Sugu, please? F’me? It’s called retail therapy for a reason.”
Suguru chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk. "But Rei, I'm already taking you to my favorite cafe later. Isn't that enough of a treat for you?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Favourite cafe, hm? Must mean I’m quite special, eh?”
Rei and Suguru seemed to have an easy rapport, their banter flowing effortlessly. It was clear that they had a connection, one that went beyond mere friendship. The realisation made your heart ache even more.
You raised an eyebrow at Rei's response, a hint of curiosity in your voice. "Oh, which cafe are you talking about?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual despite the pang of nostalgia that tugged at your heart.
Rei beamed at you, excitement lighting up her eyes. "Some place called Café Miyama. I’ve never been there but Sugu claims it's his favorite spot in the whole city," she replied, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
Your heart sank as soon as the words ‘Café Miyama’ escaped her lips. It was the same cafe, the exact same cafe that Suguru used to take you to all the time when you were still together.
You felt a lump form in your throat as memories flooded your mind. The cozy corner booth where you would spend hours talking and laughing. The smell of freshly brewed coffee that permeated the air. The way Suguru would look at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes.
But you kept your thoughts to yourself, choosing not to mention the significance of the cafe to Suguru and Rei. Instead, you simply nodded, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, that sounds great…" you said with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Rei turned to you, her gaze softening. “Would you like to join us, Y/N? I’d love to get to know you better!” Rei exclaimed, her tone sounding genuinely inviting. “Besides, the more the merrier,” she added on. Rei smiled sweetly at Suguru, playfully poking his arm. "Hey, Sugu, do you mind if Y/N tags along with us to the cafe?”
You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wanted to decline, to spare yourself the pain of seeing Suguru with someone else, even though he had claimed that she was just a ‘friend.’ But another part of you longed to be near him, to feel his presence once again.
Before you could respond, Suguru interjected, his expression one of concern. “It’s okay, Rei. Y/N probably had plans,” he said, shooting you a sympathetic glance.
You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions at Suguru's words. On one hand, you were hurt that he seemed to be avoiding the situation and diverting the plan. On the other hand, you understood that things had changed between the two of you, and it was no longer the same as it used to be.
It made you wonder if Suguru had ever truly loved you the way you had loved him.
‘I mean, who would want their ex to barge in while you’re in the middle of a potential date?’ You thought as you tried to play his reluctance off.
“I-I think I’ll pass, thanks,” you replied with a forced smile. “I have some errands to run anyway.”
That was a lie.
You knew that once you got home, all you would do was collapse into bed and sleep the day away. Running errands was the last thing on your mind.
“Awh! That’s a shame. Maybe next time?” Rei offered, a genuine smile on her face. You quickly returned a small nod, avoiding eye contact with her.
“Well, we better get going now. It was nice to catch up with you, Y/N,” Suguru said politely, before turning his back against you.
A simple “bye” was all you could mutter as you watched the love of your life walk away from your life yet again.
As Rei and Suguru made their way towards the cafe, the sight of his arm on the small of her back sent a shiver down your spine. Memories of your relationship with Suguru flooded back, the good times and the heartbreak. It was strange to see him with someone else, especially with someone like Rei. They seemed so natural together, as if they had been together for years.
You couldn't help but feel guilty for feeling so jealous of Rei, especially considering how kind and sweet she had been towards you despite the fact that you had only met her for the first time today. Her genuine warmth and friendly nature made you feel welcomed and at ease, yet seeing her with Suguru ignited a surge of envy within you that you found hard to suppress
Who could blame you though? For love makes people do crazy things.
You loved Suguru so much. No, you still love Suguru as much as you did when you were dating him. He was the one that you thought you were meant to be with — you wholeheartedly believed the pair of you were ‘soulmates’, as one would say. He was someone who understood you like no other.
But that was all in the past now.
Seeing Suguru with someone new, someone who made him laugh and smile the way you used to, was a harsh reminder of what you had lost.
His absence from your life had been a tough pill to swallow after two whole years of being together.
It took him a couple of weeks to go off and court her.
You couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh at the irony of it all, as you continued on your own path, trying to push aside the nagging thoughts of what could have been.
Sure, he claimed they were ‘just friends’, but actions always spoke louder than words.
You had the last two years by his side, sharing moments, dreams, and countless memories. Now, seeing him move on while you still cling to the remnants of what once was, it's a bitter pill to swallow. Despite the hurt and the longing, you know deep down that sometimes, love simply isn't enough to sustain a relationship. But oh, how you still miss him, with every fiber of your being, even as you try to convince yourself to let go and move forward.
Sometimes, love isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.
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© MISSUKIYO | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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Hazbin Hotel Men - Take care of you
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warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, no use of Y/n, fem reader
Characters : Alastor , Angel Dust, Husk , Sir Pentious, Vox , Valentino
Info : So it is here my first work for the hazbin hotel fandom and I'm very excited. I'm in it again after watching years ago the pilot, the first few episodes of hb and the great/amazing music video adict. So have fun everyone and enjoy it ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Alastor : A smile always graces his lips and even if you're not used to it, he's quite disturbed when his loved one doesn't smile too. They've been through a lot together, but when he walks through the corridors of the hotel from his broadcasting studio and finds his darling sad, even crying, the static goes out of his voice for a moment. He will always worry about his darling, the only one in his dark, twisted heart. ,,Darling, what's wrong...who should I make scream?" he asked, his claw-like fingers resting on your hands, the strange charged static running through you strange yet familiar. Almost judging and somehow tickling. He would listen quietly to what was on his darling's mind and let a soft song play over his wand, the song that had played when he got the letter. Your letter of admiration in such a cruel place as hell the radio demon had marveled at. ,,Or I'll just stay with you mhhh a little show?" he asked, gently wiping the tears from your cheek with his fingers before pulling his sweet tone from the bed and flicking the room into a reddish dance hall. The radio waves turned to a song and he gently guided his darling around the room, brushing away her tears with each turn, reminding her of the things they had together. The time they had together, the things they had done for each other. His special affection, his gratitude and his love that belonged only to her. ,,You know I'm always with you darling, no matter what," he reminded his heart before leaving a gentle kiss on the back of her hand as the music faded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Angel Dust : Angel Dust knew best what it meant when it came to money. He had lived it hell he was in that vicious circle and knew what it was like to be exploited for money almost every night. But in all this fire and poison he had found his own drug, so to speak. The one that had helped him when he was down, when he needed a break, when he couldn't sleep after night after night. She had sacrificed herself, Val had practically thrown herself at the throat, had taken it upon herself to become the number two in the business, something "enough" as Valentino called it. But Angel knew better than anyone that something like this didn't just pass you by. Which is why, with a warm tea in his hands, the spider heard the quiet knock on the door before he heard the ,,Come in." He didn't have to look to know that the runny makeup was from tears and other things. ,,Hey princess, come here," he murmured, putting the tea on the side table before slowly putting his hands around her. Never firm enough that she couldn't resist, always calm enough to show her that he didn't want what the others in the store wanted. The words flowed slowly over her lips and even though they both knew there was no point in talking about it, it felt good. It eased the pain and Angel was able to wipe away her tears before he gave her the tea. Because if there was one thing he had learned, it was that a cup of tea could work wonders in a few minutes and make you feel warm and safe. ,,I promise this will all end soon," he murmured, letting his beauty lay her head on his chest and he smiled gently as he saw the trembling of her body lessen with his calm heartbeat. At least they would both have something like hope for a while...a moment of calm and peace in the vicious circle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Husk : The clinking of glasses was something that could always be heard at the bar, either when the former overlord was sorting, washing or serving the glasses. The bottles made about the same sound but darker. But something still filled his bar: sniffling and sobbing. The sadness of his favorite, lucky clover, sitting at the bar with his head buried in his hands. He had just blown away to take another order because everyone else was already off to Satan's place. The beating of his wings could be heard as he hurriedly came over to her. He didn't need to look at the sad face, ,,I know you've given everything we all know that" he said and reached for the right drink he knew her favorite order was the one she had brought him back when he was lucky. He handed her the drink and slowly and gently took her hands from her face before she took the drink with a slight look of gratitude. He nodded in acknowledgment as he saw them both just sitting there for a moment, he slowly wrapped his sweat around her waist and pulled her a little closer, placing a wing on her shoulder. Knew the feathers were something she wanted. Because he was right, she let her fingers wander over the pattern. She finally gave in and told him about her yet another failed attempt to get money and power for the hotel, maybe even a few free ones, but nothing had worked. Instead, only the usual cursing and swearing...as the cave was true. Without happiness and kindness. ,,But our happiness and togetherness will last forever," he said and handed her one of his golden dice before the two of them rolled it over the wood of the ceiling. But in fact, when Husk pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek, both dice landed as doubles. They knew that together they had the best luck they could have as a couple.
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Sir Pentiuos : The airship's engine was loud, but the serpent demon was able to distinguish between the sound of an engine, the cracking of eggs and the sobs of its first officers. Turning away from the steering wheel, hoping that a cherry-scented bomb would not be thrown through the windshield, he made his way into the interior of his airship. ,,My beauty? Are you in here?" he asked as he looked into the individual rooms of the ship before he heard her from the craft room, where she was mostly developing her weapons. Weapons that had often led them both to victory, but this time it didn't work out. it was the third time in the last week that they had been caught by the bombs. He saw her sitting on one of the tables with another broken weapon in her hands, a mistake she took to heart. ,,Ohh darling please don't I'm here come here" he whispered and his forked snake tongue wetted her cheek lightly as he pulled her into an embrace. The kiss on her cheek made her smile as she saw that the serpentine demon was a little pink in the cheeks himself. His cuteness that he mostly didn't know about always cheered her up, he would always manage somehow. His snake tail curled around her body and his slightly scaly skin felt warm when she put her fingers on it. He knew his scales soothed her and his words dug into her like the bite of a snake. He slowly put her weapon aside and cuddled her again, encouraging her. ,,Shall I fetch the eggs? A big party, my dear, maybe a party," he suggested with a smile and shortly afterwards he lifted her into his arms before the two of them went to the little ones. The family sat down together and soon instead of crying, laughter and joy could be heard as Sir Pentious stood by their side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Vox : Voices can get loud, programs can get loud and with the three Vees it can get very very loud. If not the models, then Val's employees or hookers suffer from this. But this stress for new eriesn, new porn shoots and new clothes became too much for every demon. And when Vox went back to his office/broadcasting station he had, as always, an overishct on everything. A look at everything and everyone, but a look at the one screen he always had closest to him. Just a second later, he showed up in her room using his skills to make the viewers go haywire. They were always surrounded by noise, so he knew how good it was to have silence. ,,Hey button we'll take care of the ratings later...what do you need mhh?" he asked taking her cell phone from the one she was using to monitor the other ratings. He used his hands to pull her towards him, moving her slightly around the room, not necessarily dancing but playfully looking for that spark. ,,Come on, tell dear Vox what it is? Something special you want me to take care of?" he offered a small spark on her body, seeing that she smiled briefly knowing she liked it, that little shock that made her heart beat faster, drove her nerves and dispelled her fear. ,,You know no one can do anything to the four of us, we're different...and hot," he reminded her, laughing with her as his mood brought her back to her proper self. She felt the loaded kiss on her lips briefly but like catching up on a television. Before they moved across the room they shared a drink and she rested her head against his shoulder as they looked across the cave knowing that if they all stayed together she would stay with Vox he would never leave her and everything would work out in the end.
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Valentino : Obscene noises, neon pink signs, and a reclamation board and TV that gave a taste of the videos and movies that would come out if you went to the brothel in the compartment that belonged to Valentino. In this particular business, one thing mattered above all else. Stamina. Stamina if it was going to be a long night with twenty guys, stamina to film it all, stamina to count the money at the end and stamina when you were in hangover. It was exhausting for the employees and for Val, but especially for the assistant. The brothel mother, designer, scriptwriter and partner of the moth demon. It all just became too much at some point, which is why it took the Overlord a moment to realize that crying wasn't what he knew. In a flash of his smoke and the flutter of his wings, he made his way to their shared room. ,,My sweet kitty, what's wrong? No inspiration shall I fetch Angel or our favorite maybe Vox?" he suggested with a grin and took a puff on his cigrette as he approached the bed. Sha, however, that this only made him more depressed and his grin diminished as he extinguished the cigarette in the smoke and came to her, his wings blocking out the bright pink light from everywhere and the two of them a little darkened. Quiet and just the two of them. ,,Too much...I know it's a bit too stimulating sometimes," he mumbled, trying to find the right words, still not the best at taking care of others in his egocentric worldview of sex and money. But for her he would give anything and he could feel how it bothered him not to see her smiling, not shining with inspiration. He held out his hand to her for permission as she slowly cuddled up to him. ,,Here just the two of us just here and no one else just us" he whispered quietly trying not to hold her too tightly but not too loosely as the wings wrapped around them both like a blanket. As they both listened to each other's heartbeats, the sweet smell of Valentino was familiar but reassuringly true. It was just that hold they b oth needed in a place where they knew there was no going back.
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waldau · 3 months
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hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!
here you go anon, hope you like this :)
reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort
cheol brainrot go brrrr
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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technically speaking, the party’s going fine.
despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.
and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.
you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.
instead, he’d asked you out.
it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.
suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.
no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.
okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.
you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.
“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”
you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.
you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.
it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.
somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.
“do you have a death wish or something?”
you choose not to grace him with an answer.
“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”
“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”
seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.
“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.
it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.
“i don’t know, do you?”
he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”
you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”
“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.
“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”
“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”
you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.
seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.
“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.
“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”
"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”
you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”
“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”
“and if i was wrong?”
“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”
"you're too trusting, you know that?"
"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."
you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”
“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”
“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.
“how will you know if you don’t try?”
“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”
“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”
again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.
seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”
you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.
“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.
“please tell me?”
you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”
“what was it?”
“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”
seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”
you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.
“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”
“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.
“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”
you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.
“people?”
“some of my close friends.”
that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”
“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”
he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”
“want to have you?”
you nod, breath trapped in your throat.
“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.
you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.
"yeah as in?"
“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”
you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.
"if i'll let him, he says."
"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.
“this isn’t a joke?”
he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.
“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”
you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”
seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”
you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”
he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”
you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.
he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”
“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”
seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”
“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”
“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.
“you need to hear me say it?”
“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”
“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.
“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.
it's your turn to blush now.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi
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lecsainz · 4 months
Text
I SHOULD’VE KNOWN
˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .
parings: charles leclerc x exgirlfriend!reader | carlos sainz x fem!reader
summary: the one where you’re charles girlfriend but he is in love with other girl and he chose her.
an: I didn’t review it, so if you have mistakes, forgive me
type: angst ✶
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December had always held a special place in your heart, not for the snowfall or the festive Starbucks drinks, nor for the winter holidays. It was all about Christmas. Maybe you loved it too much.
And that was the problem. You used to love it, but not anymore.
Your affection for Christmas had dwindled the moment you discovered that your boyfriend wanted to end things to be with someone else. It shattered your heart into a million pieces.
The argument with Charles echoed relentlessly in your mind. It was a cold, frosty evening, the air tinged with the anticipation of the upcoming festivities. The holiday decorations around only added a cruel contrast to the turmoil within.
"You can't just throw away what we have!" Your voice echoed off the walls, sharp with desperation, as you confronted him.
Charles stood there, his expression hardened yet filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "It's not about throwing away, it's about moving on," he retorted, his tone laced with a sadness that cut deeper than any knife.
Tears welled up in your eyes. "With her? How could you?"
He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the words heavy with the weight of the impending breakup.
"Sorry doesn't fix this, Charles!" Your voice quivered with a mix of anger and hurt. "You're leaving me for someone else, for something that's not even guaranteed!"
"I have to try," he said, his voice barely audible. "I can't keep pretending."
The room felt smaller, suffocating even, as the reality of the situation settled in. You had built dreams together, made plans, and now, they were crumbling like a fragile house of cards.
"You're choosing her over everything we had!" Your voice broke as the tears streamed down your face, the pain raw and consuming. "I thought you loved me."
"I thought I did too," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper, a pained expression etched on his face. "But things change."
With a heart weighed down by anguish, you sprinted out of the apartment, struggling to catch your breath. Your world was crumbling, emotions tearing through you like a relentless storm. As you hurried down the hallway, your path abruptly intersected with Carlos, Charles' teammate.
Carlos, deeply infatuated with you, had always harbored feelings, though you remained unaware, despite Charles throwing hints your way.
"Hey, are you alright?" Carlos asked, concern etched in his voice as he reached out a hand to steady you.
Tears streamed down your face, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You shook your head, unable to form coherent words amidst the tumult of emotions.
"Come on, let's get you some air," Carlos suggested gently, guiding you to a nearby bench. He offered you a tissue and sat beside you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
You leaned against him, your tears soaking his jacket as you struggled to calm your breathing. Carlos remained silent, providing comfort through his presence alone, his heart aching to alleviate your pain.
As you slowly regained composure, you looked up at him, gratitude mixed with confusion in your eyes. "Thank you," you managed to whisper.
He offered a sad smile, his own heart breaking for you. "Y/N you don't have to thank me. I hate seeing you like this."
Your moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Charles appeared, his expression a mixture of concern and regret as he witnessed the scene before him.
"Y/N, I..." Charles started, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words.
But you shook your head, your gaze piercing yet filled with an unexpected resolve. "No, Charles. You've made your choice. I need some time."
You stood up, brushing away the last of your tears, and without a backward glance, you walked away, leaving behind the shattered remains of a love that had once promised eternity.
Carlos watched you leave, his heart aching for your pain, a silent vow forming within to be there for you, regardless of his own feelings that remained buried deep within.
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Text
Could We Not?
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ONE SHOT
[ or Part 1 to Not Another Time ]
<< Request >> "Hey! I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where she’s like apart of the band and she gets hit in the head with a hard object while she’s on stage and Harry is super freaked out? That would be a sanity saver!" - @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
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Summary: Harry Styles is used to having things thrown at him on stage. Recently, it's been Skittles, which affected his vision. But when his band members are affected, he can't stay silent. Especially when it's YN who takes the hit.
AN: I had a lot of fun writing this! YN replaces Laura in the band, just in general, only because she plays the trumpet and I still included Parris.
Warnings: Some explicit language, wound with blood, angry Harry
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He can't escape it. It has carried on from his days in One Direction, and it seems to have become a permanent, unavoidable occurrence that things are thrown at him on stage.
Most are harmless, such as boas, sunglasses, or little plush toys that he is always inclined to keep.
However, there have been a few occasions where the objects were a bit more troublesome. Phones are a big one, which internally annoys the hell out of him at this point.
The most recent culprit, and the most shocking, was a handful of Skittles, one which hit him directly in his left eye. If there is a silver lining of that moment, it's that he only had to get through performing 'Kiwi' before he was able to run backstage and immediately have it taken care of.
He tries not to show anger on stage when things like that happen. He loves his fans. He always wants to treat them with kindness, acceptance, and gratitude. So he doesn't draw much attention to it. There has only been one occasion or two where he has subtly asked for some fans to stop throwing things.
Tonight, however, might be his tipping point.
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Harry has brushed off the frustration from the rock hard candy incident, because tonight is a new night and a new show.
There is also the new trumpet player, YN. Well, she isn't new per say, she's been there since the tour came back to North America, but she is the newest member of the band, and the one Harry has become extremely fond of.
She fits in perfectly with the rest of the group. She is so kind, so joyful, and everyone seems to be energized just by her presence. Including Harry. Especially Harry. The moment she walked into the trial rehearsal, he felt an electricity course through his veins that he's never felt before. He shook it off as a mere, and mild, physical attraction. Then she started to play, and he was taken into a trance by her talent and passion. Then she spoke, and he felt his heart flutter more than ever.
He knows he has a crush, one that he can't talk about or act on, but it doesn't stop the forming of a grin when the horn players walk up onto the stage. It doesn't stop the goosebumps he feels when they all begin to play, being able to pick out the sound of her specific instrument. It doesn't stop the thought that those songs, the ones where they get to be there together, may just be his favorite ones to perform.
So when 'Satellite' ends, and after a good chat with the crowd, reading their signs, the four horn players make their way up the stairs as 'Cinema' begins, causing his heart to flutter and his current smile to stretch out into a wide grin.
When they play an extended introduction for 'Music For A Sushi Restaurant', he takes the opportunity to get some water and give her a quick smile, hoping that he actually does see a blush form on her cheeks, even behind her trumpet.
He stays on the outside of the stage for that song, but gets even more excited when the band begins to play 'Treat People With Kindness'. This means YN will move to one of the outside corners, which also means he'll get to be closer to her as he moves around during the song.
He makes sure to pass by her any chance he gets, but tries hard not to make his intentions too obvious, to the crowd or to YN. She's a part of his band, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, even if she does appear to reciprocate any smile or slightly flirtatious comment he makes. He wants any move made to be on YN's terms. However, that won't stop him from taking this opportunity to share a little dance with her.
"Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it. One, two, three, four!"
As the crowd shouts out the chorus, Harry stations himself next to her, moving his hips side to side, causing her to pull back from her instrument and let out the most amazing laugh.
He's going to do that every time from now on, just so he can hear that again.
That song ends, and she moves into the center with the rest of the horn players, walking through to the other side of the stage as they start their intro for 'What Makes You Beautiful'.
He moves back to the mic stand in front of the walkway, trying to catch glimpses of her every so often, as she stands near the corner to his left.
"I don't know why you're being shy, and turn away when I look into your eyes."
He takes a few steps to his left, pointing his arms out to the fans and encouraging them to sing the bridge.
At that moment, something whizzes over in his direction and lands by his feet. He takes a quick look down, and then to his left, noticing that YN has moved a few feet over to the other side of the stage. He sees Mitch taking a couple of glances over to her as well, mouthing something, but she nods and continues to play.
As the final chorus nears, the four horn players move back to the center of the stage to play the last parts of the song.
He grabs his mic from the stand and engages the crowd, instantly requesting that they applaud for the horn players. He watches as YN gives a wave to the crowd, confused as to why she isn't doing it as vibrant as normal. She could just be tired, though she usually pushes through it, but it's been an intense leg of the tour in Los Angeles.
The time between that and 'Late Night Talking', while Parris plays his beautiful solo, is usually one of his favorite moments, because he has a little bit more time to interact with her on stage. Even if it's only a quick comment or joke, he loves it and takes what he can get. But as he moves closer to grab his water bottle, he sees her talking to Pauli, who swiftly hands her a spare face cloth that he keeps by him.
Harry immediately frowns and quickens his pace over to her.
"What's wrong?"
She wipes herself off and shakes her head, keeping her gaze downward. He can't remember a time where she wasn't happy and bright. But now she looks embarrassed, and sad, which pains him to see.
"Some… something hit me."
"What? Where? How?" He blurts out, not even fully able to process what she is explaining had occurred.
"A fan threw something. I don't know what it was." She sighs, flickering her gaze up to him with a troubling expression across her face.
"Shit. Are you alright?" He steps closer to her, unintentionally placing his hand on the middle of her back, and he feels her shiver under his touch. He removes it, his eyes fixated on her, and he feels some relief when he sees a small smile appear on her face.
"I'll be okay." She assures him. Her trumpet lifts up to her lips, the ones he has wondered what they would feel like against his, and he realizes that Parris has finished his part. "Let's get on with it."
He bites his lower lip as she gives him a wink, and feels a blush form on his own cheeks. If she knew what she does to him, she probably wouldn't be doing that. But he'll take it.
He sings through the second chorus on the closest walkway, still giddy at the fact that he can pick out her trumpet from the others, and he just knows she is swaying back and forth to the lyrics as she always does.
However, he turns around to make his way back, pointing his mic back out to the crowd, and when he sees YN again, she is holding her fingers against the spot over her left eyebrow.
Instantly his chest tightens and he bounces back over there as the song ends. She makes her way back to the center with the others while he takes a quick gulp of water, turning around when they begin to play 'Watermelon Sugar'.
"I'm bleeding." He hears her state to Parris.
"Okay. Go." Parris replies, and Harry follows after her.
"YN." He tries to shout without causing too much of a fuss, but she steps down the stairs, and he clenches his jaw as he watches her make her way backstage.
This isn't good, and he really hopes he can get through this song now.
"Alright, if… if you know this one, please… please do sing along." He stumbles through his words, his eyes still glaring over to the spot where YN exited.
Performing this one isn't as fun this time, though the crowd are probably none the wiser, as he keeps his professionalism as intact as possible. But it is different. She's usually on the walkway in front of him, dancing away as she plays, causing his heart to flutter each time she moves.
He either closes his eyes or moves around the stage a bit, hoping to momentarily distract himself from her, and stay focused on the music. At least to get through the song.
And thankfully he does.
As soon as it ends, the rest of the horn players make their way off the stage, and Harry immediately rushes over to his little setup in front of Pauli.
"Start playing, but I want to talk with the crowd for a moment." He states into the band mic, for only the crew to hear.
They softly play the melody of 'Love of My Life' and he raises his hand as if to signal that he has something to say.
"Thank you Los Angeles, so much, for all of your support. I, more than anyone, know that I couldn't do this without all of you. I hope you have had a great time." The crowd cheers, and stomps, and he responds with some kisses blown around the venue. Then his expression becomes a bit more solemn and he turns back to the mic. "I want to say that my number one priority for everyone here tonight has been safety. That includes everyone on stage as well."
The crowd immediately hushes, which usually doesn't happen without his lead, and it shocks him. But hopefully it means they'll hear his message.
"I always encourage you to dance, sing, and interact. I always suggest that you treat everyone with kindness. And now, I also ask that you please think about these amazing people on stage, and refrain from throwing things that could potentially hurt someone. One of our members was hurt during a song tonight and unfortunately had to leave." He pulls back, clearing his throat in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. "We want to be able to keep doing this with you for as long as possible, so we all need to make sure that safety is our top priority. So let's keep it safe and have some more fun. How does that sound, Los Angeles?"
He holds two thumbs up to the fans, swiveling around while everyone begins to cheer again, and walks over to his mic for the next song. The last one before their little break, and before their encore. He'll be done soon.
He knows his energy has diminished a bit, which is fine for 'Love of My Life', because his mind is back on YN. He desperately wants to know if she is okay. Needs to know, at this point.
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During the break before their encore, Harry rushed underneath and pleaded with the crew to find out what had happened to YN, and whether she's being taken care of. They assured him that she is fine, but he couldn't get rid of his worry.
He put on his best entertainer persona for the last three songs, feeding off the excitement of the crowd to get him through until the end.
But once 'Kiwi' was finished, he blew kisses to the fans and sprinted backstage, immediately feeling frantic.
"Jeff-"
"H, man, you doing okay?" His manager asks, concern all over his face.
"Where is YN?" Harry quickly asks, not even bothering to answer about himself.
"Huh?"
"Where's YN? She got hit by something. She had to get off stage. Where'd she go?" He asks, feeling frazzled like he never has before.
"Oh. Uh, I haven't seen her, maybe-"
Harry strides off, not really knowing which direction to head, but willing to walk all over the place to find her.
He sees another familiar face, feeling some hope that she'll have an answer.
"Lorren, where's YN?" He asks, hoping his tone is a bit more calm than it was with Jeff, but knowing he could be failing.
"She's in the common room." Lorren replies, a small smirk forming suddenly. "She's okay, Harry."
His eyes grow wide and he stands up straighter, more stable, more casual. Or at least trying to.
"Yeah. Of course. I just… wanted to check in with her." He utters, but her intrigued, raised eyebrow tells him that she doesn't accept his answer.
"Harry…" She chuckles. "I know you care about her more than that…"
"What? No-... I mean…" He sighs, running a ringed hand through his sweaty hair. "Shit."
Lorren laughs again and she puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Your secret is safe with me."
He nods and feels a hot burn flooding his cheeks, not even attempting to hide it since she clearly knows she's right.
"Does she fee-" He begins, immediately stopping as he sees her pull her lips inward. "Nevermind. Doesn't matter. I'm just… gonna check on her."
Lorren nods and smiles, squeezing his shoulder then pointing down the hallway.
"Good luck…" She teases as she walks away.
"What?"
"Nothing." She replies, already opening the door to another room.
He takes a deep breath and turns back around to the direction he needs to go, his steps faster the closer he gets to the room she is occupying.
He opens the door without hesitation, instantly seeing YN sitting on the sofa with an ice pack held on her face, and her phone in the other hand.
He clears his throat as he takes a few steps towards her, slower than they were in the hallway, and his heart pounds faster than it just had been.
"Hello." He utters, not wanting to startle her. She shoots her gaze up to him and he feels butterflies as she immediately smiles. She may have looked different on stage after the incident, but he is happy to see that her bright demeanor seems to have returned. His concern begins to melt away.
"Hi." She responds, putting her phone down, along with the ice pack. She winces as she does, and as he moves to the sofa, he finally sees the large gash on her forehead.
His heart sinks, and he is thankful for the close proximity to the furniture, because his knees almost give out completely as he takes a seat next to her, on the opposite side of where her cut is.
"Fuck, YN, are you alright?" He inquires, his gaze flickering between her gorgeous, sparkling eyes and her anger-inducing wound. His jaw instantly clenches and his palms ball into fists. He can't believe this happened, especially to her. His gaze drops, and he begins to fill with guilt. "I'm so sorry you got hurt."
Suddenly, he feels the warmth and soft touch of her hand on his, causing the tension in his palms to release right away.
"It's not your fault, H. And I'm okay."
He looks up to her again, being met with the gaze he tries hard not to get lost in, but fails every time he's close enough to see it.
"I just…" He sighs and shakes his head, not entirely sure what he wants to express, and worried it could be more than he should. "I just want to… know that you're alright."
"That's sweet." She utters, a tenderness in her tone. He smiles at the irony of her attempt to calm him, when it should be the other way around. "I am. I am alright."
A squeeze of YN's hand grabs his gaze once again, and he just sits in silence as he, once again, gets lost in her eyes.
His hand unintentionally reaches up, gently resting under her chin as he turns her head to view her wound, sighing once more at the sight of it. His thumb reaches up, gliding over her skin, right under the cut, and a tingle rushes over him.
A strong exhale leaves her mouth and he turns her head back to him, his eyes tracing the lines of her lips. He looks back to her gaze, his breath hitching at her beauty, and his body acts on his feelings as he leans in, gently pressing his lips against her own.
She lets out a small sigh, which snaps him back to reality, and he pulls back.
"Shit. I'm… fuck, I'm sorry." His hand drops and he scoots his body further away from her, feeling every ounce of embarrassment possible. He didn't want to make the first move, if there was even one to be made. What if she didn't want it? What if she hated it? "Fuck."
"Please, don't…" She clears her throat, a sudden timidness in her tone. "Please don't be sorry."
Harry's heart begins to race, and he glances up to see her smile. However, a knock on the half-closed door causes both their heads to turn that way, and they both sit up straighter.
"I finally found a bandaid." A venue staff member states, handing it to YN and walking out.
She begins to open it up, removing the strips and exposing the sticky sides, then looks around the room for a mirror.
"Here." Harry reaches out, grazing her hand, and regaining her attention. "Let me."
She hands him the bandage, and he scoots closer again, their thighs barely touching, but just enough for his stomach to fill with butterflies.
He gently places the band-aid over her cut, gliding his thumb over the corners to make sure they stay secured. His gaze drops down, and his breath hitches as he sees her gazing up to him through her lashes.
His palm slides down and rests on her cheek, and she tilts her head upwards, their lips hovering in front of each other.
"Thank you." She whispers, her own hand placing itself on top of his.
Harry attempts to swallow down the lump stuck in his throat, but is interrupted by the sudden soft pressure against his lips. He lets out a quiet whimper, and her hand moves around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. His mouth begins to move with hers, and the tip of his tongue teases the gap between her lips.
She suddenly pulls away, and a frown forms on his face, until her gaze flickers to the door and he hears the chatter in the hallway that must have caused her to stop.
He pushes back, only out of caution and respect for both of their privacy, and grins when he sees her blush.
"You know, I've had recent experience with eye injuries."
"Right. You have." She giggles.
"If you want… you don't have to… but if you want to, you… you could come to my suite." He clears his throat. "To hang out. And I can keep an eye on that injury for you."
"No pun intended." She laughs, and his grin, surprisingly, grows wider. She's still so bright, and he's already down bad.
"I…" She begins, another blush instantly taking over her delicate skin. "I wouldn't mind seeing you looking at me a little more tonight."
"Oh my god." He breaths out, swiftly throwing his palms over his face.
He feels her fingers wrap around his wrist and removes his hands to find her standing in front of him. She tugs on his arm, and he lifts himself off the chair.
"Then maybe I'll get the chance to do the same." She states, biting her lower lip before letting him go and moving around the room to grab her stuff.
Yeah. He's definitely down bad, and despite her being injured, this just may end up being the best show by far.
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Main Masterlist
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If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx
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If your name is blue, I couldn't tag you
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jksian · 4 months
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When the end comes (teaser) | JJK
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You loved him with all your heart, held onto the person you knew will never be yours; but, the only regret you had was, you weren't able to tell him about those feelings.
Pairing: best friends brother JK x reader
Genre: super ANGSTY, fwb, smut, unrequited love, grief au.
W/c: 800 (for teaser)
Rating: 18+
Warning: major character death, one sided love from oc' s side, tattoo artist Jk, multiple sex scenes, age gape (more will be included in the story)
A/n: so..... I thought about writing some emotional heart breaking stuff so you should know it's gonna be SAD, like real sad! Full of angst! And if you're into this kinda thing, let me know if you want to be tagged.
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Thanksgiving came and it was time for celebration. It was the time for eating delicious food, show our gratitude to the universe and spending time with our loved ones.
But, you weren’t particularly enjoying.
Every year, the Jeon’s and your family celebrated most of the occasions together, due to your father and Mr. Jeon being friends apart from your friendship with their daughter. But , this year, one more family joined in. You didn’t mind if it was just another random someone, but it wasn’t someone random.
The food was excellent as always. Mrs. Jeon had always been a great cook. All the food was mouth-watering but still, you found your self concentrating more on the scene unfolding in front of you rather than your food.
Jungkook invited his girlfriend to his house on Thanksgiving. That was the first time you saw the girl, your crush was in love with.
She was beautiful would be an understatement. Long, silky hair which was dyed brown, tall with a sweet personality. Anyone could have said on the first glance at them that, they were made for each other. There were many similarities between them too, like both were studying at the same college, Jungkook being art major and she was in the literature department, both belonged to the same city but never met each other before and the most importantly, both were at the same age.
Where you were four years younger than him, basically same age as his sister.
He probably think of you as his sister. No. Definitely he did.
You were burning with rage when you saw them holding hands. Even though everyone was around them, they didn’t seem to care much. It also seemed like Jungkook’s family liked her so much. They were happy that their son have met someone who made him happy. Both their families were happy about their relationship.
When it was evening, everyone was chattering and laughing inside the house but you were on the balcony, standing alone. You couldn’t help but cry. It was too much for you. You’d been crying for days now, but now that you’ve seen his girlfriend, there was no denying that it was real. Their relationship was real and you didn’t had a chance anymore.
“Moon is watching the moon?” You didn’t noticed when Jungkook came here. You abruptly wiped your tears away from your cheeks. He came closer to you and stand beside you, you took a step away, tried harder to hide your face from him.
When he noticed you hadn’t answered his question, he continued “I picked the right name for you, didn’t I?” he asked again, tried to humor you but you were nowhere near to laugh or even smile at his jokes.
You were standing there silently, not staring at the sky anymore. You lowered your gaze and your head fall downwards, shoulders slumped. He must had sensed that something was wrong with you, that’s why he asked “Hey, are you okay–,”
Before he can finish his sentence, an ugly sob slipped past your mouth, unable to held it back anymore. This time he didn’t held back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and made you look at him. You were insistent on not to face him so he settled with just holding you by your shoulder.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks without any resistance but his hands felt comforting even though he was the one hurting you at that time.
“What happened? Does someone hurt you?” you could sense the concern in his voice, his voice was so soft like he was afraid of hurting you. That made you cry even harder.
“____, please tell me what happened?” This time he was rubbing your arms ups and down, a gesture of comfort. He patiently stood there until calmed down and was ready to talk.
When he saw you finally wiping your tears away, he took a loose strand of your hair a tuck it behind your ear. That little affection felt like someone poke a needle into your heart.
“I like someone.”
You whisper to him , tried your hardest to not burst out crying again. You saw his expression turned into confusion, so you continued “But, He doesn’t like me.”
Again, your eyes were filling with tears. The image of them together encrusted into your mind will always hunt your down for sure.
Jungkook seemed to contemplate on how to respond to you. Then, he asked “How could you know that he doesn’t likes you?”
“Because, he has a girlfriend.”
Jungkook was taken aback by your statement. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, like he was sad about the situation you were in.
“I- are you sure? Also, do I know them by any chance?”
You avoided his gaze but nodded to his question. You were afraid that he might know about your secret crush on him. What if, he hates you after knowing that he was the person you likes?
No no, you couldn’t let that happen.
“how old is he?”
“Same age as yours. And, I’m sure that he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together the other day. You- you might know him but I don’t know…” You shifted on your feet, fidgeted under his curious gaze. He was staring at you, you felt that even though you were looking at the other direction.
“May I know his nam– ,”
“No.” Before he could ask the question, you dismissed immediately. There’s no way in hell you were gonna tell him that.
After seeing your defensive state, he didn’t push that question onto you anymore.
“Okay. You know, you’re a beautiful girl, right? You’ll find someone better than him in the future who will love you.” His smile was surreal, he was looking at you like you were the only one existed in the world, Eyes so gentle.
He was such a kind person, always helping who was in need, from offering jacket to a random person at a cold night to rescuing you from getting embarrassed in front of thousands of people on your first day of period. Even if you tried to assume that he was being caring only to you, that you’re special to him, you knew it wasn’t true.
You were just a random girl who was happened to be his sister’s friend.
He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to you. Your tears were as stubborn as you were, “If he is my age then, that means he is older than you –,” the realization hit him.
“–___, he didn’t do anything to you, right?” his worrisome expression made you think that why does that matter? His brows were pinched as he searched for your eyes.
“N-no, why are you asking that?”
“You should be careful from people, especially older guys. I’m not saying all the older guys are bad, but you haven’t see much of the world yet, so it might be difficult for you to identify who is good. You also haven’t matured enough–,”
“What do you mean by that!?” you got offended by the those words. Matureness doesn’t comes from age, also why was he acting like a seventy years old grandpa?
He got off guard from the sudden change in your tone. Shifted on his feet, he tried to make you understand his prospective, “I mean, many guys in our college targets younger girls like you to take advantage of, and… I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“W-why?” you wiped your nose with his handkerchief as you asked.
“Who wants something bad happens to the people they care about?” his smile was so genuine, the way he looked at you back then, made you feel things you’d never felt for anyone else.
That night you realized that, maybe, your silly little crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was more than that. Something that might ruin you in the end but, still let that thing to engulfed you completely.
That night, you found comfort in the person who was the reason behind your heart break.
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