#feeling numb on a tuesday? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thyln4gf · 2 months

Text

Darling, can I?

✞ Confusing feelings - youre both lost, stuck and thinking about each other after the hookup. But its not a one-night stand if it turns into two, right?

✞ Word count - 1898

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that i associate with this fic - "favorite" - Isabel LaRosa, "bad idea!" - Girl In Red, "attention" - Charlie Puth, "eat your young" - Hozier, "meddle about" - Chase Atlantic.

✞ Warnings - smut, mentions of alcohol.

✞ Lando Norris x reader

Whiskey, expensive cologne, and dizzying passion.

Thats what he reminded you of. The image of him was burned into your brain permanently. Whenever whiskey washed over your tongue, memories of him would flash before your eyes. The way he had his tongue deep down your throat, mercilessly fighting with yours. The subtle flavour of whiskey and the cologne he used numbed your senses, almost making you forget your own name. No one has brought you to the heights he has by simply kissing you. No one, ever. And all that happened only once - yet, you couldnt help but let your mind linger on the memory. You kept it close to your chest, like something sweet and sacred. But you thought that he didnt feel the same - and you spent hours thinking about it. He was a famous figure, after all. You probably were just another pretty looking doll to him, something he could play with once and throw away. But did you care? No, not really. You knew that you could easily get anyone else. If you wanted to, that is.

Initially, Lando thought the exact same thing. That you were a pretty thing that he particularly enjoyed playing around with for a night. But, after you, hooking up with women simply didnt feel the same. He kept thinking of you and your scent. The way you looked at him (that look in your eyes was enough to make any mans knees buckle), and the way you made him feel. He was starting to regret his actions, as he found his heart making even more space for you and the feelings for you that have been bubbling up to the surface.

Today was no different - he was staring up at the ceiling, contemplating his life choices. It was approximately 7am, and all he could think about was you. Even when the pretty looking miss barbie he had in his bed tried talking to him - he found himself getting distracted. You just had a way of drawing people in, and barely even noticing it.

And, before he knew it, he was up on his feet, getting ready to leave the house. He had already escorted the blondie out of the door, and that was his last straw - as soon as the distraction left his space... he *had* to go and see you. He wasnt so sure if you would accept him, though. He felt like an ass. He used you and threw you away like something disposable. And he was sure that it was an uncomfortable experience to spot him out and about - monaco wasnt that huge, after all.

"Fucking hell..." he muttered under his breath, as he was currently failing to button up his shirt - his hands were shaking more than ever. He knew that you had options, and that so did he. But he was almost desperate to hold you in his arms.

-------

You were having another slow morning - the weight of your responsibilities was slowly, but surely, weighing you down. You had pulled yet another all nighter - your body is currently powered by hopes, prayers, and a load of canned caffeine. You were surprised by how you were still pulling through.

You were currently walking around with a textbook in your hands, hoping that the walking part is going to trick your body into staying awake. And it was actually working, honestly - despite your legs feeling like pieces of stone. The house was pretty quiet, too. One of the things that made you cherish living alone - peace and quiet.

But thats until you heard your doorbell ring. You werent expecting anybody, it was a Tuesday morning... you put the book down onto the kitchen table, and start making your way towards the front door.

You had a horrible habit of opening the door without peeking through the little hole. And you should have, atleast this time - because none other than Norris himself has made his appearance. You werent expecting such a sight, and so early. You werent expecting him to squeeze himself right past you into your house, either.

"What the fu - hello?" You calmly call out to him, your voice laced with confusion. However, you dont question it much, and close the door behind you. Lando almost looks grateful as you do so - almost as if he was expecting for you to kick him out.

He looks into your eyes, just like that. You can see him briefly licking his lips, and one of his hands going to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He looks away and takes a deep breath, before he can even say anything else. He had 'im nervous and overwhelmed' written all over him, in capital letters. But what is it? Only the sight of him made your heartbeat accelerate a tiny bit.

"I wanted to - ohhh..." he tries to speak up, but he sees you stepping closer to him. Your movements made him freeze in his spot. His breath got caught in his throat. In all honesty... when he looked into your eyes, all he could think about was that one night you spent together, and his confusion about his feelings towards you amplified. Your movements were slow enough to almost feel agonising, making him want to snap and break his composure.

Neither of you say a word, nothing. All he could see was you, and all you could see was him. You could almost imagine how his hot breath would feel on your neck, and in... other places.

But, besides your own thoughts, him struggling to breathe, and the distant ticking of the clock somewhere in the house, nothing else could be heard. The clock almost felt like a ticking bomb, a countdown of seconds until one of you snapped. Both of you knew what was coming a long, long time ago. It was just a question of when.

The silly little staring contest continued. But Lando couldnt keep to himself for much longer - he almost lunges towards you, planting his lips on yours like he was a drowning man, desperately trying to come up for air. You cant even describe the noise that just left your throat, though it was definitely one of surprise. But you quickly found yourself kissing him back, your hands immediately burying themselves into his hair, his snaking around your waist.

You both start losing yourselves, and pretty fast. All the energy and the longing spilled out, sending a wave of electricity throughout your body. You spent the past couple of weeks trying to ignore those thoughts. That maybe, just maybe - you liked him. Each and every of your doubts melted with zero effort as soon as you felt him squeeze your body against his, his fingertips clinging onto your clothes, desperately.

You werent sure of the speed you wanted this to be. As if sensing your confusion, Lando slips his arms a little lower, them now being wrapped around your hips. He didnt want to waste any time, nor he liked to do that. Suddenly, the feeling of being carried takes over - Lando has picked you up, and is about to pin you against the wall with his body.

The intensity he kisses you with increases as your body makes contact with the wall. You can feel his every muscle, hear all the sounds he's making. Hell, you think that you can even hear his heartbeat. You can feel a bite or two he makes on your lips, but youre too far gone for your brain to register it properly.

His body presses against you even harder, the feeling making you moan. You hear him chuckle - he's rather happy that he gets to see the wild side of you - youre always so calm, so... collected. He liked to joke that you were a rock in your past life. His hands leave your hips, now roaming all over your body. He always liked to explore - and this wasnt an exception.

Eventually, his hands start slipping under your shirt. His fingertips are a little calloused and rough from all the training and racing, but his palms were soft. His fingertips were still a little chilly from the air outside, and his palms felt almost disgustingly warm. The contrast between the textures and temperatures makes you shiver with pleasure. You cant help but imagine what they would feel like if he put them down your pants.

If you didnt believe in being able to read someone elses mind before... You were about to. Because you suddenly felt one of his hands slip lower, and lower, and lower. From your chest, down to your stomach, and down to the waistband of your pants. But he doesnt go further, for now - he pulls away slightly, to look up at you, his eyes filled with anticipation. He clearly wanted to ask if you really wanted this, for your permission to go further. He just couldnt find the right words - a part of him was scared as well.

You didnt know what to say either. You always struggled with talking about your feelings, leaving alone... these. All you could manage was crash your lips back onto his, even harder than before. A surprise groan leaves Landos throat, a moan - yours. He understood your message well, or so he hoped. He didnt want to misunderstand anything, even worse - hurt you.

His hand does end up in your pants, starting to slowly rub in all the right places. And, right at that moment, you can feel your brain disconnect from your own body - its almost like you were suddenly working on autopilot. You were almost ashamed to admit, but you could already feel yourself getting close. Something about him felt nothing like you have ever felt before, in all the right ways - his touch overwhelmed and turned you on at the same time.

Lando could feel your back trying to arch, and hear your moans getting louder. He smirks to himself - that didnt take long, he thought. Even faster than he would usually finish in.

The orgasm reaches you just seconds after. The wave felt hot, melting your insides and your inner thighs, as you moan into his mouth. Oh yeah, right - you two never stopped kissing each other during all of this. You simply couldnt be bothered to leave each others embrace. Well, you were basically forced, still pinned against the wall - but you didnt have any complaints. You barely had it in you to kiss him back anymore.

And he could feel it. He felt it. He pulled his face away from yours just a little, making eye contact with you. His hand that was in your pants just now comes up to his face, starting to lick the fingers clean. All while never losing the eye contact. For the first time in awhile, the sight in front of you made you blush.

Seeing your reaction, he chuckled, again. You were adorable. He hesitates slightly before speaking up.

"Could I be your favourite, darling? Can i?" He asks you, in the most gentle tone you have ever heard. The thought of it only makes you smile like an idiot.

'Youll know when you find the one', they said. And you always thought of it as bullshit. But right now? You were proved wrong. You were staring into this mans eyes and you could see the world.

Your favourite.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanart #formula one fanart #fanfiction #formula one fanfics #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando fanart #oneshot

370 notes · View notes

hellfireghoul · 1 year

Text

A Midnight Visit

Leon S Kennedy x F!Reader

Prompt: “And I know that we’re not… we’ve never been anything more than casual but God life’s too fucking short and I’m so in love with you.”

Summary: A brief knock at your door on the early hours of an unspectacular Tuesday evening had disturbed you from just about falling asleep. You knew there was only one person that called this late.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Mainly fluff with a bit of angsttt.

A/N: I started writing this ages ago and only just recently finished it. The tropiest trope ever (Leon showing up at readers door in the middle of the night, it's been done a million and one times) but I'm doing it again so here. The end is also v cringe soz

The clock had just gone 12am. You were sitting in your living room, curled up on your couch nestled in a blanket watching trash TV in an attempt to numb your emotions.

Harsh rain pattered on the windows, providing ambient noise as the rest of the street for once, was completely silent under the night sky.

A lamp emitted a warm, dim glow across your living room. You’d stay here until you fell asleep. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept in your bed, the unoccupied sheets and silent room feeling uninviting and cold. Listening to the chattering on the TV of some old sitcom rerun you’d seen a million times, you felt your eyelids grow heavy. Until…

Knock knock

A brief tap on your front door shot you awake, your eyes immediately darting in that direction as if the door was about to be kicked down. You froze for a second, wondering who on earth was knocking at your door at midnight on a Tuesday. Hell, any day of the week really. Your stomach twisted in knots, wondering if this was it, the moment you’d been dreading the past few weeks. The knock at the door to tell you the worst news of your life.

No, it can’t be, anyone else would have to buzz up to your apartment. Stop thinking like that.

You tried to talk some sense into your panicked brain. Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your phone to double check the time, and as you did, another knock occurred. You were still rooted to the spot, knowing there was only one person that could be knocking at this time. The only person you wanted to see.

Heart pounding in your chest, you took the few steps to your front door. You didn’t bother to look through the peephole, knowing who you’d find at the other side. He’d kill you if he knew you hadn’t checked, though.

(“Seriously? A knock at your door at midnight and you didn’t double check just in case it wasn’t me?”)

With a deep breath, you unlocked your door and swung it open, and nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight before you.

Leon S. Kennedy. Your on again off again situationship, stood in front of you battered and bruised. One of his eyes was almost fully closed due to a great purple bruise forming around it, and his pretty lips were swollen and cut. His jaw was incredibly swollen, and that was before you’d even glanced below his neck. His arms, thick and muscular were covered in cuts and lacerations, his hands bruised and scabbed over. You gasped, clamping a hand to your mouth at Leon’s disheveled appearance, your throat forming a prominent lump and your eyes threatening tears.

“Leon…” Was all could manage, from behind your hand that was still covering your mouth in utter horror.

Suddenly, all the anger that had been festering towards this man over the past few months was cast aside. Caring instincts overwhelming you instead.

2 months earlier

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as the door to your apartment slammed. You heard the furious footsteps of Leon thundering back down the hall, until they faded into silence.

You sat for a moment, shell-shocked at the argument you’d just had. You argued at times, but never like this. Never so much that he’d stormed out of your apartment.

You and Leon had never been serious, you couldn’t be serious due to the nature of his job. He was like a living ghost. You clung to him when he was here, but he vanished as soon as you thought you had a tight grasp on him, your fingers clutching around smoke.

That, coincidentally, had been what the two of you were arguing about. It had started off about something silly, trivial, something your exhausted brain couldn’t even summon the memory of. It had slowly built into something magnanimous, something you weren’t sure either of you could come back from. Leon hardly ever lost his temper. He was a patient guy, especially when it came to you, but you had seen a different side to him that night. Venomous words were flung at each other in the heat of the moment. You were just as guilty as him, both saying things you didn’t mean. Words that echoed around in your brain as you desperately tried to shake them off, knowing neither of you meant it.

But still, that was Leon’s last night in the country before leaving for a mission in Europe. You didn’t know how long it would be this time, or even where in Europe. He never divulged the nature of his missions, he couldn’t. You knew that. So for all you knew from what’d you gathered about his role (by putting the pieces together, he’d never outright told you anything) he could be checking in on civilians after a war crisis, or putting his life on the line to prevent a deadly outbreak of a bio-weapon. Potentially dead within the hour or being deployed home early, there was no in between. And it killed you. The not knowing, and the constant circles your brain liked to do on nights when you couldn’t rest.

One time, you hadn’t heard from him in six weeks. Not so much as a whisper. You were beside yourself with worry, awaiting a man in uniform at your door and flinching anytime you heard a knock or a buzz to come up. During those six weeks, a horrid thought kept festering in your mind: What if no one told me? What if he was gone, and because he and I aren't a couple, no one would think to notify me? Does anyone even know that I exist? And that I care about him?

Leon had seen the state you were in after that, what he’d come back to. You supposed it should’ve been obvious to him then, how you felt. That your feelings ran deeper than what the relationship had started out as. You suspected he did, after all you couldn’t do much to hide how distressed you were, even if part of you felt it was wrong to feel so strongly considering the two of you had never been officially together. Leon never breathed a word of his suspicions however, if he had any.

After that one trip, he’d promised to get a message sent through to you at least once during his assignments. Whether it was a message via Hunnigan, or a direct phone call transfer, you didn’t care. A simple message being relayed of “Hey, I’m alive:)” was enough to keep you going. The phone calls were very rare, and didn’t consist of much talk about what he was up to, mainly because it couldn’t. Instead, Leon would want to know in detail about what you’d been getting up to, how you were and how your day had been. You’d always return the questions, knowing he couldn’t give you a straight answer, but you still asked anyway, only to receive responses like “Oh, you know, just another day in the office.” or “Weather’s nice here.” It was mildly frustrating but you didn’t care much, just hearing the sound of his voice made you feel better. Sometimes, you could hear how worn down he sounded. Sometimes tired, or troubled, and that never failed to make you worry all the more. Especially because you knew he’d always try his best to hide his troubles, he always did, so if it was something you were picking up on you knew it must be affecting him badly. You always stressed over the phone for him to be careful, he teased you a lot for it but you just couldn’t help it. The thought of something happening to him was unbearable.

This is why, when you hadn’t heard from Leon within the first month of his deployment to Europe, you started to worry a little. Well, maybe a lot. Sure - the two of you had argued before he left, and the first few weeks or so you just put it down to that. He was busy, you hadn’t left things on the best terms, he wanted space. That was understandable, even if there was a trace of anger simmering amongst all the worry too, indignance and outrage at the fact that yes, you’d argued, but he couldn’t stop being petty for one second and let you know he was still alive for fuck’s sake?

But as the four week mark crawled up, worry had settled fully in the pit of your stomach and never truly left. You knew that even if Leon was still angry with you, he’d still send a message just to let you know he was okay. He still would hate the thought of you worrying. Ritually you checked your phone and laptop for updates, willing something to come into your inbox from Hunnigan’s private email address, or your phone to light up in your hand from a withheld number you just knew was him - but nothing.

Still, you reassured yourself that the record for his silence was six weeks. Six weeks with no contact before now, and he had been absolutely fine, well as fine as he could be. You told yourself that, told yourself over and over again that he was fine - until the six week mark hit. And then that six turned into seven, then seven into eight. You couldn’t eat or sleep. Your stomach in a constant state of nausea, your chest feeling unbearably heavy but hollow at the same time. It was torture. At some point around the eight week mark, you’d convinced yourself that was it. Preparing yourself for the inevitable news at any point now, and you thought if you heard even a single buzz to your apartment or your phone ring from a withheld number you’d throw up on the spot, knowing it would be bad news. You'd, in some ways, gone through the first few stages of grief, as dramatic as that sounded, your mind was landing on the worst conclusion possible in an attempt to prepare you, to protect you from the shock. The past month or so, you’d cried yourself to sleep every night. And the little sleep you did get was filled with torment, nightmares seeing Leon meeting a fate much worse than the last each time you closed your eyes. It was agony, especially knowing the way you’d ended things. All the things that were left unsaid. That is why, two months later on a very unspectacular Tuesday evening, you could’ve dropped straight to the floor at the sight of him.

“Leon…” You breathed again, your sobs causing your shoulders to shake as you stood, mouth still slightly agape taking in the broken man that was not the one you'd left behind.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Leon said, his voice rough but quiet. Your stomach would’ve done a somersault at the pet name under any other circumstance.

“What- what on earth-” You began, unable to fathom the millions of questions you had into one sentence.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course…” You said, absentmindedly, eyes not moving from Leon as you stepped aside to let him into your apartment. His injuries were still fresh, angry and sore, bruises newly formed, but his clothes looked clean and he looked freshly showered. You wondered just how long ago he’d got back. A fresh pool of blood began forming on one of the many cuts on Leon’s face, a trickle of red emerging just on his cheekbone.

“Shit, you’re bleeding Leon. Let me grab something, I need to patch you up… errr… I think I have some first aid stuff in the bathroom cabinet…” You were mumbling to yourself now incoherently, still in complete shock as you turned to grab a tissue from your coffee table to dab up the fresh blood on his beaten face. As you spun on your heel, a tissue plucked from it’s box at the ready, you stopped dead in your tracks.

Leon was down on one knee, his knee cushioned on your plush rug, his bruised face looking up at you in an expression of complete sincerity.

“Y/N…” Leon began, and for a second you just stood there, transfixed as your brain tried to compute what was happening. Was he hurt? Why was he on the floor? Questions swarmed dumbly in your mind, but you couldn't spare a second to rationally think about one. As if to make sense of everything, you fixated on the small amount of blood slowly trickling down his face, reminding you of the task you had just begun to carry out.

“Leon, what are you - your face, it's bleeding…” You mumbled, going to reach forward to dab his cheek when he held a hand up to stop you.

“Y/N, marry me.” Leon spoke in barely a whisper, his voice low but his tone and the look in his eye deadly serious. You blinked.

“What?”

“Marry me.” He repeated, his blue eyes still gazing into yours with a look that could melt you into a puddle.

“Leon, I’m- What? Is this some kind of sick joke?” You gasped, unsure if you were dreaming at this point. In your mind, you’d convinced yourself this man that you loved was dead. You hadn’t heard from him in just over two months. And here he was, bloodied and beaten, kneeling on your living room floor at midnight asking to marry you. You’d finally cracked, surely.

“The mission I’ve just been on, I’m not going to lie to you it was-” Leon broke off, his brows knitting into a frown and he averted his gaze from yours for a second, stringing the sentence together seemed painful. He was very carefully choosing his next words, ensuring to spare some details as to not hurt you anymore than he knew he already had.

“Let’s just say it was bad. Real fucking bad. I wasn’t sure if I would make it home. I used to not care if I never made it home, I’d accepted my fate. The line of work I do, I figured I was bound to die on the job one day. And I was okay with that, was.”

He paused on his last word, his blue eyes piercing yours as he rekindled eye contact.

“Until, well until I met you. It hit me, I was… let’s just say I was in a bad spot. And I didn’t know if I would make it.” He tensed as he noticed you flinch and shut your eyes tight at his words. He continued after swallowing thickly.

“And the thought of not coming home to you, never seeing you again and leaving you alone like that. I couldn’t bear it.”

There was a pause, and you drank him in and his words, unaware there were soft tears trickling down your cheeks.

“And I know that we’re not… we’ve never been anything more than casual but God life’s too fucking short and I’m so in love with you.” Leon finished, his words hanging in the air like an unfinished song. You were still too stunned to speak, just digesting his words and you swallowed hard, wiping your tears away and taking in a shaky breath. An overwhelming feeling of sheer relief washed over you, your chest no longer tight and aching as it had been for as long he’d been gone. It had subsided finally, knowing he’d come back to you. You still had a million and one questions as your eyes searched his. You couldn’t help your brain flitting over the thousands of compromising positions he could’ve found himself in, and your heart wrenched as you pictured the vision he’d half painted for you.

“Y/N? You still with me?” Leon asked, tentatively.

“Yes, yes” You breathed, your attention resurfacing.

“Yes, you’re still with me or yes…?”

“Yes. Yes and yes.” You said suddenly, as if you’d been shocked back to reality. “All the yes’s. Of course I’ll marry you.” You flung yourself wrapping your arms around Leon, his head resting just under your chest as he was still kneeling.

Leon huffed, slightly winded at the force of you flinging yourself around him, but his sore face soon relaxed into a warm, relieved smile against your stomach.

“I love you too.” You whispered into his hair. He clung onto you for dear life, fingers almost digging in too hard as he pulled you close to him.

“God am I glad to hear that.” Leon chuckled softly and you held eachother for a moment, Leon still kneeling. It wasn’t till you felt a warmth on your stomach that caused you to pull back slightly, noticing a red stain had pooled onto your white t-shirt.

“Ah shit- sorry-erm-” Leon apologised, getting to his feet to fully stand now, as he did, another drop of blood dripped onto your plush cream carpet and he swore again.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean it up for you.” Leon started towards your kitchen, wiping his blooded cheek on the back of his hand till you gently grabbed his equally battered arm to stop him.

“Leon, do you think I care about my cheap rug right now?” You smiled gently but didn’t give him time to answer before you were pulling him in for a soft but desperate kiss. He tasted like heaven and home all in one, you’d missed him so desperately, more than you even could comprehend.

You took a fistful of his own t-shirt, deepening the kiss and his own hand found its way into your hair.

“Wait, wait…” Leon pulled away breathlessly, his cut lips even more swollen and pink.

“You forgot something.”

You raised an eyebrow giving him a puzzled look, before he produced a striking deep blue, boxed sapphire ring in front of you. It had never left his hand, and in the heat of the moment you hadn’t apparently noticed he had been holding it out to you. You gawped for a second, the ring sparkling beautifully even in the dimly lit living room. It was nothing short of stunning, two clustered diamonds framing a large sapphire stone in the middle. You dreaded to even imagine the cost, you knew Leon got very well paid for what he did but it didn’t stop you from being a little bit mortified.

“Leon, how did you? When did you…?” The questions tumbled out of your mouth all involuntarily.

“I got back this morning. Went and bought it straight away. Here, try it on.“

Leon said, softly and taking your left hand in his and sliding the ring onto your ring finger. It fit perfectly.

“How’d you know my ring size?” You queried.

“I have my ways and means.” Leon replied, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth in what seemed to be nothing short of pride. You took a moment to examine your hand, not questioning his comment, the ring looked beautiful and the sapphire complimented your skin tone flawlessly.

“It’s perfect.” You breathed.

“I’m glad you like it. I’m just sorry that the proposal wasn’t too romantic. Not my ideal choice for proposing but-“

“It was perfect. This is perfect.” You said softly, cupping his cheek with your hand. His other cheek had began pooling blood again, and you sprang into action, finally going to finish the task you started what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Sit down Mr. Need to patch that cut up.” You ordered, and Leon threw his hands up in a weak surrender as you lead him to the bathroom. Your mind was still reeling, but you ordered him to perch on the bathtub whilst you raided the first aid kit.

“I really need to get this topped up.” You muttered to yourself as you noticed the lack of plasters and bandages.

“You’re off your game, Y/N.”

“Well, sorry I’ve been a little busy worrying myself sick for the past 2 months.” You mentioned this in a matter of fact way but it come across slightly harsher than you’d intended.

“I’m so, so sorry. I lost contact with Hunningan. I knew you’d be worried sick.”

“It’s fine Leon, you’re here now and that’s all that matters… this might sting.” You reassured him quietly as you dabbed an alcohol soaked cotton pad on his wound. Leon didn’t flinch but you knew it must’ve hurt, and you apologised under your breath.

He held your wrist gently, to stop you as you went to grab another cotton pad.

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It never has been fine.”

You sighed, as he held your wrist still and you gently pulled yourself away, gazing into his eyes before you spoke.

“It’s your job. I’m with you either way, I understand what I’m signing up for and I’m still here, aren’t I?” You smiled sincerely at him, the conversation deemed over in your eyes. He seemed to tired and blissful to argue any further.

You cleaned up the rest of his face in a comfortable silence, the stillness and calm was pleasant. This was the most at peace you’d felt in months.

“All done.” You whispered, packing the rest of the first aid kit away and storing it back in your bathroom cabinet.

“You didn’t have to,” Leon began, but you shot him a look he knew all too well. The look of “don’t you dare start apologising again”.

“Have you eaten?” You asked softly, taking in his worn exterior.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Leon answered, as he stood to stretch from the side of the bath.

“Worrying about you is my job. You’re gonna have to get used to it.” You quipped.

“I suppose I am." Leon chuckled softly. "How’d I ever get this lucky?” He gave you a soft smile as he snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him. You melted under his touch and doting eyes.

“You should also know, it’s my job to take care of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, I hope you know that.” Leon said lowly. You smiled softly at his words, bringing your arms up to rest around his neck.

“Whatever it takes?" You hummed, feigning deep thought before continuing with a faint smile. "Okay, you can start by kissing me.” You proposed, your faint smile turning into a grin.

“Would be my pleasure.”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #re4r #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil

2K notes · View notes

spacedace · 9 months

Text

Reluctant War AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol

Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol

Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha

Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do

---

It lived beneath his skin.

For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.

It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.

It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.

A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.

Except.

Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

Lived.

Not existed. Not contained. Lived.

He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.

He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.

It lived beneath his skin.

Until it didn’t.

He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.

He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.

To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.

He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.

He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.

It had been different, recently.

His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.

He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.

In the dream, he was in a room.

Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.

The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.

In the dream he felt like he was dying.

In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.

That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.

He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.

Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.

He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.

It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.

He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.

She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.

Or JL light, for that matter.

Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.

A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -

He tried not to think about the or.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.

The world burned back to life in sharp relief.

The dream.

The room.

Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.

It looked larger on the screen.

Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.

She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -

Looking at him.

The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.

But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

She lived beneath his skin.

He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.

Not as felt as she used to be.

The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.

It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.

Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:

Run.

Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.

All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.

They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.

Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.

The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #barry allen #justice league #flashfam #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #ancient of the speedforce elle #ever onward elle #amanda waller #eldritch speedforce #kinda #unsettling speedforce at the very least #cut to 20 minutes later to all of the speedsters & Elle at a waffle house having the world's most awkward family reunion #Dick gets a call from his bank about his card being used to buy several thousand dollars worth of breakfast food in another state #& immediate calls Wally like #Dick: YOU TOOK OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF A FULL ON WAR IN GOTHAM TO GO GET WAFFLES?#(because of course he gave Wally his card - he's bought Wally a god damn expensive ass apartment they're basically married)#Dick: I THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING MIND CONTROLLED #Wally: ....sorta? But like...in a good way?#Dick: How can there POSSIBLY be a good way of being mind controlled?!#Wally: you know what actually I'm gonna make our new mom explain this one #Dick: ...WHAT DOES THAT *MEAN*???

1K notes · View notes

vivgst · 3 months

Text

OBSSESED!Valeria

Valeria loves control, it makes her feel calm. It's like a warm blanket on a very cold day, it gives her comfort.

Her personal relationships are about control, not love, at least that's how it was with Alejandro, he loved her much more than she loved him and it was fine with her because that's how it should be.

Even after betraying the army and positioning as the leader of the Las Almas cartel, she continued to adore the idea that she had left her poor lover behind, she spent nights imagining how much Alejandro must miss sleeping next to her and that made her smile.

Until she found out that Alejandro had a new partner and you were quite different from her, you were younger and you always wore all that makeup, you looked weak and she hated you as soon as she knew about you.

Valeria was not in love with Alejandro but she enjoyed knowing that he had not been able to get over her and him being with someone else meant that things had changed.

What did he even see in you?

She didn't know and she became so obsessed with finding the answer that she couldn't stop stalking you. She did it all the time and knew everything about you, Valeria had photos and folders full of information about you, she knew that you went every Tuesday afternoon to have a coffee at the mall, that your work hours had decreased since you were with Alejandro and that on Thursdays you went out with your friends.

After a while of watching your every move the line between hate and desire became so thin that she found herself unable to discern if what she now felt for you had escalated into something completely different than what it used to be.

It became even more difficult when her own mind began to work against her and suddenly she found herself awake although she could have sworn she had fallen asleep minutes ago, but there she was, panting restlessly as she felt – felt you – move, riding her slowly while your hands squeezed her breasts, Valeria felt suffocated, each movement of your hips buried that double-end toy deeper inside her, you looked at her mockingly while she writhed with pleasure and drops of sweat fell all over your body that was numb from all the things you were feeling.

She wanted to regain some control, to push you away from her but like every dream, she didn't have much power to free herself or exercise the free will she had when she was awake so her hands tightened on your hips in a poor attempt to stop your movements, that only served as an incentive for you to start moving faster, your skin slapping against Valeria’s.

You leaned on your forearms to bring your lips closer to hers as you moaned and slowed the movement of your hips once more, the toy was rubbing against her g-spot and Valeria let out a hiss as she tightened her thighs.

She wasn't going to come from having you on top of her riding her, she didn't care how good she felt or how turned on she got just from seeing your breasts bounce every time you jumped on top of her.

However, you had other plans.

You trailed wet kisses from her jaw to her neck and up to her earlobe, nibbling on it gently, Valeria shuddered but did her best to keep fucking quiet.

“Are you shy now?” You spoke hoarsely and she growled, her hands gripping your hips so tight that your skin burned but even that felt good. “No matter how much you try to hide it, you're just as soaked as I am.” You whispered against her ear and pulled away from her to look into her eyes, both of you were panting and the room that Valeria normally hated for being cold was now so hot it was barely bearable.

“How much of a slut you- fuck...” She breathed out and there was real hate behind all the lust in her gaze, she hated you and she hated the way you were making her melt, how much she was loving every touch, every feeling and well… how much she wanted you to keep doing it just like that, driving her crazy while you rode her, she loved it.

And you were so close to making her come, but the universe was against you that night and Valeria woke up gasping, looking everywhere even though she knew very well that you weren't there.

Her body was just too hot and sweat wasn't the only thing that had the bed wet, it was uncomfortable so she got out of bed and went into the bathroom, taking off her clothes and getting into the shower which was cold.

Her body kept shivering and no matter how cold the water was, the heat in the middle of her legs didn't go away. She wanted to put her hand between her thighs and make herself come, she needed it but no, she would cut her hand before doing such nonsense for you, the shower would calm her down.

But it didn't calm her down, nothing did. The days went on and her mind kept coming back to you, wishing that dream came true even though she hated to admit it.

Valeria remembered it so vividly... now she couldn't stop stalking you even though deep down she knew that nothing would happen between you two.

At least that was what Valeria thought, she could know a lot things but she was oblivious to the fact that Alejandro was a tool for you, a toy. She was also oblivious to the fact that all your plans took shape when you started to feel watched.

Finally she had noticed you.

#valeria garza #valeria cod #cod x reader #valeria garza smut #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #valeria mw2 #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x you #lesbian #wlw #wlw ns/fw #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty

346 notes · View notes

sheeple · 5 months

Text

Miracles don't exist | 32: Love

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Talk about death [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You place a hand over the empty and cold spot on the bed next to you. A sigh escapes you as you go sit upright. Ever since Theo left with the other Death Eaters you haven't slept a wink. Terrible what-ifs running through your mind.

Deciding that you can no longer stay in bed, you make your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

As you stand in the dark heating up water, you notice someone entering the kitchen with the point of their wand light up. It's your aunt.

"Do you want to join me?", you ask, your head turned towards her. You see her not from the corner of your eyes and you fill two glasses with boiling water and tea leaves.

The two of you take place at the breakfast table and sit in silence. Narcissa lights a small candle and places it on the table. You trace the rim of your glass, eyes trained on the dark liquid. The air is tense. Narcissa opens her mouth before closing it quickly. She does this a couple of times, not knowing what to say.

Your head twitches. It has been doing that all night. You rub over your neck as the twitching has been hurting it.

"Since when have you been doing that", asks your aunt, eyeing you warilly.

You shrug, glancing up at her. "Don't know. A while now. It comes and goes."

There is silence between the two of you again. You never were one to talk to her about your problems. It's not something you did. not like she truly cared about you. She only took care of you because you are family and because she feels like it is her duty to the Dark Lord.

"Were you... were you always engaged to Lucius?", you ask, glancing up at her.

Your aunt looks surprised at your question. The two of you never really... talked.

At her silence, you look fully at her. She has an unreadable look on her face, one you've seen a lot lately. "No", she says curtly, "at first it was my sister Andromea who was intended to marry into the Malfoy family."

Andromea? Tonk's mother? "Isn't she married to Ted Tonks?"

Narcissa nods. "Yes. She fell in love with him and ran away from home. Seeing that Bella was already set on marrying Rudolfus, it was my duty to marry Lucius."

"Did you love him when you got married?" Your question is very childlike but brings a smile to the older woman's face.

"I used to have the biggest schoolgirl crush on Lucius at school. He was two years above me. We learned to love each other during our marriage." She has a fond look on her face as she recalls the memories.

The topic of love makes your stomach curl and a lump forms in your throat. Your mouth feels dry and as you go to take a sip, you realise you've already finished your tea. As you look at your cup, your question surprises even you. "The wedding will be soon, right?"

Unable to look your aunt in the face, you focus instead on her hands. Her well-manicured hands tense up before gripping the cup tightly. She stays silent, seeming deep in thought. "It... yes. The Lord has decided that your wedding will be held after Pius Thicknesse is estated as Minister for Magic."

You lean back in your chair, lips pressed firmly together. "And when will that be?"

"The first of August. The Lord has expressed his... expectations of you to be there in his name when the new Minister addressed the people, in the name of the Lord. Two days after that, you and Theodore will be wed."

You're numb. Absolutely numb. They are going to play the fall of the Ministry off as another Tuesday. And now you're supposed to be there to support him. Next to the numbness, a festering sickness bubbles up inside you.

Standing up, you dig your nails into your palm. "I'm going to try to sleep again. Good night." You turn around and begin to make your way towards the stairs when noise comes from the entrance hall. That can only mean one thing.

You rush towards the entrance hall, your eyes wildly searching around. Fewer Death Eaters came back than left. Some are bleeding the others just stand around, helping each other. The Dark Lord is nowhere to be seen. Bellatrix brushes past you, an unhappy look on her face.

The air you subconsciously held in escapes your lungs once you spot the only person you care about. You rush towards him, throwing your arms over Theo's shoulders and hugging him tightly. Theo returns the gesture, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug.

"Are you okay?", you whisper, taking a good look at his face. A gasp exits your lips as Theo's face spots a few gashes and cuts, blood smeared all over. You take him by the hand and lead him away, towards your room.

There you make him sit on the bed and scramble around the room for your wand. You cast a few quick healing spells and watch how the blood seeps back into his skin and the cuts clear up.

Theo's hands are on your middle, gazing up at you as you fuss about. He rubs circles with his thumb before pulling you towards him. He presses his head against your chest as his hands take a good hold of you with no intention of letting you go. You lace your fingers into his hair, running your nails over his scalp.

He pulls you down with him and wiggles around until the both of you are under the covers. His eyes flicker over every detail of your face as if he's memorising them. All this time he has said nothing.

The two of you stare at each other in the dark, not saying anything.

"Professor Moody is dead", he croaks suddenly, his face twisted in anguish. "One of the Weasley twins is also injured. I tried not to hurt anyone, just fly with them. I tried to stop them from hurting them." He lets out a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips. You cradle him against your body, pressing kisses on the crown of his head. "I know", you whisper, "I know, Teddy. It's not your fault."

You stay like this, comforting Theo with your presence and watching over him. As his breathing slows down and his iron grip on you somewhat relaxes, you look down at him. His eyes are closed but he has still his eyebrows knitted together, a restless look on his face.

"I love you", you whisper after you're sure he's dead asleep. "I wanted to tell you then, but I was scared. Nobody ever loved me, and that spooked me. But the thought of losing you scares me more than anything else." You gaze at him, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. You nuzzle against him and close your eyes. "I love you, Theodore Nott. And nothing is going to stop me from getting us out here alive."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver

170 notes · View notes

luvtak · 5 months

Text

birthday blues, psh

☆ pairing fratboy!sunghoon x reader

☆ genre/tw fluffy fluff fluff, a twinge of angst, sunghoon has a case of the birthday blues :(( i wrote the mc to be quite introverted, hand holding lmao, cheek kisses! a little miscommunication, a very sweet and soft getting together fic <33

☆ w/c 1705

☆ a/n happy holidays!! i began this fic on sunghoons birthday but because i am terrible at planning anything i just finished tonight lol, so heres a little present from me!! i hope you like it <3

masterlist

With the bad music and the smell of cheap beer, you find yourself regretting walking through the door. The house is bustling with conversation and rhythmless dancing–not a sweater in sight despite the frigid air outside. Not one person you know or like is occupying the four walls around you, and even worse, your drink is weak.

The melting ice is enough to kick start a negotiation with yourself, you’ll leave after this drink… tell Sunghoon happy birthday, and then we’re gone. You’re not sure why you even bothered… you’ve been on three dates with the boy and barely kissed twice. While he’s handsome and funny, you don’t know if that's enough to endure another mindless frat party while your roommates are cozying up at home watching the new season of Love is Blind.

While initially you held some reservations about going on another date with a frat boy, Sunghoon proved himself to be very sweet.

The first date was nice, dinner and a movie (action which was ironically very boring) and a chaste cheek kiss that kept you up way past your desired Tuesday bedtime. His lips were soft and his eyes were kind–a sort of unfamiliar shy glimmer staring down at you. He was ever the gentleman, opening doors and making sure to tell you how pretty you looked… He was perfect. Which was odd for a guy who spent all his time with boys who carried a carousel of girls around.

The second date was quick but sweet, a speedy lunch in between classes, leaving a smile on your face until you got home that night. He had asked about you the whole time, wanting to know how your day was, and if you had had a good time when you went out before. And finally, the third, wherein the very pretty boy asked you to come to his birthday party before placing a swift kiss upon your lips.

It was almost like you were possessed. Feeling a great urge to be there to celebrate with him–very unlike the person you claim to be, but he asked so sweetly. His fanged smile was large and on display, and he had a look in his warm eyes that reminded you too much of an overloved puppy. Too much time with those eyes and you were agreeing before he could say please.

Now, you wished you had the gift of prophecy. If you knew you wouldn’t see the boy once since walking through the doors 45 minutes ago you never would have said you’d come. Of course, it’s his birthday and you’re sure he’s busy being shuffled along friends and pretty girls who’ve long since held his favor, but he asked you to come and if you have to spend another minute listening to mindless chatter you might never speak to him again–no matter how much you like his company.

The boys next to you are crass and the girls much more indulgent than you feel prepared for. Enabling their counterparts with enough alcohol and shitty pick up lines to put you out for the whole year. And while listening in to others' conversations isn’t the nicest thing to do, the loud groanings of, “Hey, pretty lady…you’re heating up this whole place.” were just too nauseating to ignore.

While slurred words are always swoonworthy, it may be time to head out.

It is barely eleven, but you’re ready to go–ego bruised and brain ready to rest with some mind numbing television. Not too mention, phone long dead from too many tiktoks watched to pass the time. You can’t believe he didn’t even make an effort to say hello. You made it clear you didn’t like this sort of thing–would rather spend a Friday night away from the hubbub and cheer of a college party that lost its charm the spring of your freshman year.

Whatever, if he didn’t care you’re just glad he showed his true colors sooner rather than later. While it sucks, it’s no use crying over another too pretty boy.

Peeling yourself from the back corner, you find yourself jostled this way and that until your skin meets the chilly December air. A momentary shock of relief rings through your gut, finally away from the rotten place a younger you loved, and an older you was over.

The night for all its misadventures did end up being a pretty one; stars barely peeking through the light covered city and shining down on the car packed street. Straining your neck to see them for just a minute before making your way to your car, you eye a startling figure sitting on the frat house’s roof.

A boy with a curious resemblance to Sunghoon, but why would the birthday boy be out here instead of at his own party? His hair is mussed and though he is far up, it’s easy to see the messy state of his clothes–sweatpants and a sweater one could only describe as something a grandfather would wear.

“Sunghoon? What are you doing up there?” it's too far, but you think you can see the little lift of his lips, a look of relief gracing his features.

“What do you mean? I’m waiting for you, didn’t you get my message?” His voice, while covered by the echoing party and the nighttime sounds, still carries over the expanse of the front yard as if he was in front of you–as confused as it was, it does little to ease the annoyance of before.

“What are you talking about Park? I’ve been here for an hour and haven’t gotten anything from you.”

“Oh I’m Park now? But it’s my birthday.” betrayed by your own temper, you can’t help but let your teeth show. His ever composed countenance running away as he whines his words.

Maybe it’s dramatic and maybe he did send you a message, but the bitter pain of feeling ignored won’t go away just because he’s cute.

Even if he is really really cute.

“How am I supposed to know if you really did send me a message and aren’t just saying that now that you’ve been caught?”

“Come on now, Silly, charge your phone.” he’s grinning now, tongue running along the points of his left canine. “I’d invite you up, but it looks like you may just push me off.”

“Why are you up there anyway? There's a bunch of people in there waiting for the birthday boy.”

It could be your imagination, or a trick of the shadows, but it’s almost like that one word made his whole body falter. Straight shoulders falling below his ears and long eyelashes hitting the peaks of his cheekbones. Eyes closed and figure sad.

From a young age you’ve been rather curious; looking through hidden presents and asking too personal questions to the people around you, but you don’t think you’ve ever been more interested than now. Looking at this handsome boy–too early to love, but too late to ignore–sitting alone on his birthday is enough to make you pause.

“Sunghoon? Are you okay? I won’t push you off if you help me up.”

While he doesn’t answer your question, he does reach out a hand to show you the way. Laughing loudly when you stumble through the tree branches, and quick jabs at your obvious roof climbing inexperience. It’s only when you’ve safely landed next to him that you can really see the slightly blue expression on his face. Of course he’s smiling–you don’t think he’s ever looked at you without one, but there's something invading his form. An ever present dusk sitting along his spine.

The both of you sit in silence for a long time, looking out at the street and laughing at the party goers retreating through the yard. Young men and women stumbling and giggling their way through another weekend. It’s only when the music changes from obnoxiously loud electronica to obnoxiously loud rap does he speak.

“I’ve never really liked today, you know? I get so excited for it to come, thinking it's gonna be a magical day that changes everything. Then I wake up and it’s just another boring day. I guess I haven’t learned how to deal with the disappointment,

I’m sorry you were in there alone, I– I wish I knew you went inside. I was hoping I’d catch you going in and bring you up here. I thought maybe if I spent it with you, it could be life changing. Exciting enough to be worth another year.”

How interesting birthdays are, to be so momentous and yet so disenchanting. You wait 365 days for a moment to pass, another year older with no magic in sight. Although you can’t ignore that he believed you to be life changing. How sweet, to think after only three dates he’s already decided that you’re who he wants to spend his day with. Face warming and hands shaking, you’re able to let out a soft laugh, before finally answering,

“Well, maybe we should just treat it like any other day. No cake or presents, I won’t even wish you a happy birthday." It's strange how this seemingly mean sentiment lights up his face: brown eyes becoming crescent moons, a goofy grin settling along his mouth. A look worthy of a birthday.

“What should we do instead?”

“Hmm, if you come with me right now we might be able to see the rest of Love is Blind with my roommates. Kazuha and Intak swore they wouldn’t watch the weddings without me… Only if you want to.”

And the way you looked at him with wide eyes and a hopeful smile, how could he say no. How could he tell you that all day he wished he could spend it with you.

He helps you down and keeps your hand in his as you begin the trek back to your apartment. The night is cold, but his figure next to yours heats you right up–brightening the walk back to your apartment, and making you thank whatever power made you stop to look at the stars, never knowing the tall boy was wishing on every birthday cupcake that you’d join him on the roof and change his life.

#sunghoon #enhypen #enha #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #enha x reader

188 notes · View notes