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joonsytip · 5 months

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Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 4

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): drama, crying, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, everything is on rocks, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, italics represents occurrences in past

Word Count: 6.3k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

They say betrayal is worse than death if you taste it from someone you trust, someone you love. It's stingy, it's sickening, it's scathing.

You have always believed in soulmates, entitled Seungcheol to that word since you've known him, even wanted to make promises of eternity with him. But you should have seen the signs, should have never crossed the lines. Must not have tried to slip into the loopholes.

But you got blinded by greed, a hopeful stance of getting back together. Was it so wrong to wish a happily ever after with the one you have loved selflessly? Apparently it was.

"Sit.", you tell Seungcheol and the later obeys.

And as he does so his eyes fall on a very familiar document kept on the table. Instantly, he goes numb.

You observe him for a moment and play the recordings Jiah had given you. Midway, a panic stricken Seungcheol runs to you and pauses the recording.

He grabs your arms and says in desperation, "I didn't do all this Y/N. I admit I had planned all this because I wanted revenge but please trust me, it wasn't me."

"Unhand me.", you command him coldly, "Your touch disgusts me."

Seungcheol looks at you alarmingly before freeing your arms. He thinks of ways to convince you because in actuality, like he said he had planned it all but something out of scope happened. He fell in love with you again so long gone were all of those thoughts and schemes.

"What goes around, surely comes around.", you let out a chuckle, "Maybe that's why, I'm going through this. I get that you wanted to trample me upon. It's fair, to think about what you've been through because of me, I could have understood.", you look at him, "You could have handed me the divorce papers on our anniversary. Could have had other women and it would have wounded me. But-"

The tears pooling at the corner of your eyes are streaming down, "But how could you stoop so low? Knowing how much this academy matters to me, knowing what music means to me, you went out to attack my soul."

"No Y/N, I was a fool, please please", Seungcheol is crying as well, choking on his words, "It was wrong of me but I would never--"

"They are calling me a thief. Because of this incident those out there are questioning my whole career. The career, I've pursued after fighting the odds, after struggling for years. The one thing that is entirely mine.", your eyes turn darker as you say, "You could have rather killed me, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol gasps and shakes his head frantically.

"Even if I clear my name today, there will be people who'll still doubt my ability. Some out there would assume that I might be guilty and just because I belong to an influential family, I must have pushed everything under the rug with money.", you are hurting yourself with every word you utter at this point, clutching your chest, "My image is tainted, my career is ruined. They will never look at me the same way."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Y/N", he gets on his knees and clasps his hands, pleading, "I would do anything to clear your name. I'd do anything to win back your trust just give me one chance--"

You take his hands off you saying, "I have always loved you, Seungcheol. Back then, even now, I have chosen you. But none of that matters now. You have stabbed me in the back but I'll be one to pay the price. I thought you'd be different but these genes run in your family. I can't even blame Jiah. You Choi's are no different from her--", you halt.

"What do you mean?", Seungcheol asks confused.

"As I said none of that matters now. You are so petty that you acted out the whole thing. You don't love me and from today onwards I won't either.", you answer him, taking out the wedding ring from your dress pocket, "Here, I'm giving you what you wanted.", you take his hand and place the ring on his palm, "Congratulations! This marriage didn't get through it's first year. But I have a present for you. I have filed for divorce, the papers will be sent to you as soon as they're ready."

Seungcheol is at loss of words. He's unable to comprehend the situation. He wants to stop you but on what ground? The irreversible damage is already done.

"I have all of my belongings sent over.", you inform him, "And if you're planning to create a fuss about the divorce and what's gonna happen after the conference, head on. I won't be giving up like last time. I'll see through the end of it."

"It's happening again", he tells himself and sounds so broken when he speaks through his wavering voice, "Please don't leave me again."

"I had no choice, I was forced to leave you back then", you mutter under your breath, making it impossible for him to hear, "I was willing to stay this time but I have to leave, this time for my sake."

While you gather the rest of your belongings, Seungcheol stands there helpless. And as you walk out of the house, he watches you take away the life of his adobe with you.

Seungcheol numbly tunes in to watch the press conference. He sees you on the screen, out of his reach, out of his life. He listens to each word you say. How sad you look as you address the matter. Even though your legal team briefs the journalists, his eyes are glued to you. He observes how you don't explicitly mention him or the Choi enterprise but throw sublte hints to catch on.

But you make it obvious at the end of the conference by announcing your divorce to Seungcheol.

"I have filed for divorce against Choi Seungcheol and I would like to refrain you all from associating me with the Choi's in future."

Seungcheol is immediately thrown under the bus. People who were coining you as a thief are now praising you and busy portraying him as the villain.

But mopping won't do him any good. His mind reel backs to every word you have said before leaving. He needs to get answers to some questions. Most importantly, he has to get you back.

The next few days goes by Seungcheol handling the legal charges against him which are minor because he digs out enough evidence to prove that he wasn't involved in the slander and Jiah is the main culprit, adding exceptional charges to the list that would nearly ruin her and damage her company's reputation.

The Choi enterprise faces reputation loss as well which results in their stock plummeting and the board of directors complaining about the situation. But being humungous in business, the impact isn't uncontrollable and since Seungcheol is mentally exhausted his father lets him loose taking matters into his hands for the time being.

Everything is manageable or bearable except for the divorce papers which he has received on your first anniversary, that sits coldly on his office table.

"The house I bought is an hour drive from here and I'm planning to stay there for some time, just to take my mind off of things." you say fishing out your car keys, "I have saved my new contact number to your phones."

"But are you sure you don't want us to be there with you?", your mother asks worriedly.

"At least let us help you shift--"

"Dad, I have lived alone before as well. Plus Chan and my friends are gonna help me with the unpacking.", you move over to hug both of your parents, "Visit me after it's done. Plus I'm planning to throw a cozy house warming house, not soon though."

"We're proud of you.", your mother says patting your head.

"I'm sorry for all the troubles and stress you've been through for the past year.", you mumble, quickly wiping your tears, "I'll be fine, no looking back promise."

"We have always trusted you, just take care of yourself and call us.", your father says kissing your forehead.

Chan waits for you by the car and he doesn't let you drive throughout the time it takes to reach your new house. As your friends help you settle into your new home, you are grateful to them for keeping you distracted and not bringing up Seungcheol.

"I'm sorry, Kwan. The academy had to face such an incident because of me.", you say hanging your head low in shame because you don't want anyone to see your tears, the can of beer in your hand remains unsipped, "I have decided to take some time off, please handle the academy and it's okay if you want me to backout. I'll transfer my shares to you."

Seungkwan blames the atmosphere for the tears in his eyes. He wipes them and sits beside you, "I couldn't have done it alone. The reason the academy exists is because we both had given it our all. So take all the time you want but you'll have to return."

You lean onto him and it's your brother who comes to wipe your tears.

"I'm so sorry Chan.", you speak through the tears, "I should have listened to you. I never thought that Seu--", you go quiet because it pains you to even say his name.

Everyone in room goes silent. It's not haunting rather comforting. But the successive ringing of the phones cause a mild commotion.

"Wonwoo keeps on calling us.", Eunsoo mutters, switching off her phone.

"Just tell him that I'm fine.", you tell her, "I'll give him a call later. I haven't visited Wonseok lately so I need to talk to him anyways."

It's amusing, how the night changes.

Seungcheol is distressed. He realises you are not the only one he has lost, he has lost Ms. Oh's empathy, he has also lost precious friend Wonwoo as well.

Wonwoo is back to his stoic self, the version he was when Seungcheol met him first. Only talks business with him, leaves as soon as he's done with assigned work. No more late night drinks, no more taking shots, none of the banter.

He watches you laugh as Wonwoo tells you something animatedly. He watches how your eyes are dull even though your lips are stretched.

Seungcheol had overheard Wonwoo talking to someone on the phone about his brother so he decides to visit him seperately just to check on him. He didn't expect to see you there, making him question since when you knew about Wonseok.

Your face falls when you're suddenly interrupted by Seungcheol's presence. He stands in front of you wordless, you don't bother to strike any conversation with him either.

"I'll get going, let me know if you need anything else.", you tell Wonwoo and turn around walk away.

"Y/N", Seungcheol says, "Can I please talk to you?"

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, "I don't think we have any business with each other. Do me a favour and just sign the divorce papers."

"I can't.", Seungcheol speaks out without missing a beat, "I need you Y/N, please give me a chance, let me make things right. I promise I won't let you down anymore."

"Enough with this act, don't assume you could fool me twice. I'm done with you.", you move around so now you're facing him again.

"You've changed your number.", he says meekly, "I don't get to see you anymore. That house haunts me, it's not the same without you."

You step in, closing the gap within you two, "You're facing the consequences of your actions. Stop acting like a fucking victim.", you spat out before walking out.

Wonwoo is torn. He doesn't want to take sides, it's even more difficult to see both of his dear friends grieving and suffering but there's nothing he could do.

"Wonseok is going through a series of surgeries because his condition had worsened and Y/N has been paying for them.", Wonwoo informs Seungcheol and before he could ask, Wonwoo adds, "You're already paying me more than I should be so I didn't want to burden you more. She had accidentally found out about Wonseok one day and decided to help me out even though I wasn't ready to accept it. She was determined and I couldn't stop her."

Seungcheol isn't surprised rather he is confused. This version of yours is what he was habituated to when you were dating until you convinced him it wasn't on the day you broke up. Something isn't adding up. Something about your nature and the way you act to what you had said that day are contradicting. You aren't mean-hearted, you are a giver so why did you years ago do something so bizarre, the thought is unsettling.

"She has been taking some time off from the academy, no one knows when she'll be back. She is so affected by the incident that she was ready to give up on the academy. The one she had built from scratch with her blood, sweat and tears." Wonwoo speaks disappointedly, "Do you realise what you have done?"

Seungcheol is ashamed, there's an unhealing pain in his heart thinking about you, about how he should be the one aiding you in your tough time but he can't because he's the reason you're in agony.

"As you know, I had also hated Y/N for what she had done. And now that you see me being friends with her is not because she's paying for Wonseok.", Wonwoo halts and takes a breath, choosing his words carefully, "It goes far beyond that. You have always been heedful, I think it's time for you to be vigilant as well. The truth might be far from what you've believed it to be."

Wonwoo doesn't spare another second on his watch as he walks away ignoring the desperate calls of his name.

Seungcheol's mind is not in place anymore.

Your thoughts are everywhere. Peace and happiness are some of the things you haven't gotten to feel lately. Though you've decided to spend time alone at home, the loneliness is caving you in.

Maybe tonight you're feeling a little more lonely than usual. Maybe you shouldn't miss the person who had pushed you to the edge of the cliff. Maybe you shouldn't be good with dates. Maybe you shouldn't trace your thumb on the calendar reminiscing about the day, you both had made it official years ago.

The damned tears aren't stopping, your heart isn't healing.

The bell rings and you are surprised because no one is supposed to visit you today. Quickly wiping your eyes and cheeks you don't bother to check the monitor and open the door.

At the other side of the threshold stands Seungcheol. Your red eyes gape at him as he looks at you shivering from driving all the way here in the snow.

"What are you doing here?"

You know getting your new address and number wouldn't be a big deal to Seungcheol given his network runs deeper.

"Can you let me in atleast, I'm freezing."

You cross over your arms and step aside. He saunters in and wanders off to have a tour of the house. He stops when he senses the glare you're sending him.

"If you realise that this house too plain for your taste you can always contact me. We're best in the business.", Seungcheol says as his lips purse in a line.

"I wonder from where did you get the audacity to come here?", you ask plainly.

"Just wanted to see you", he admits, "I miss you, Y/N."

You scoff at his words.

"Also, there's something you left behind, I found it while going through the drawers.", Seungcheol fishes out a notebook from his inner coat pocket.

You immediately recognise the object, raising your hand flat for him to handover it to you.

"I instantly got reminded of you always carrying it and scribbled down if anything came to your mind. Seems like you had kept this notebook from prior to university days.", he hands over the notebook and touches your hand gently in the process.

His touch turns to strong grip and he doesn't let go.

"Thanks.", you say trying to free your hand, "You should leave now."

The wedding ring on his finger feels cold on your skin.

"I know you remember what day it is today.", he says pulling you closer so that now you're colliding into him, your faces an inch apart. Your eyes are wide and the notebook falls as you're grabbing onto his shoulder out of reflex.

He has an undeniable look of longing in his eyes. You should just push him away, even kick him out but you find yourself frozen.

"I still remember falling in love with you, every moment of it.", he whispers, his gaze switching between your eyes and lips.

"So I do, Cheol.", his nickname slips out of your mouth so casually, there's a pause before you speak, "Why did you have to ruin it all?"

"I regret it all.", he gently holds your face, "But I realised that I never stopped loving you otherwise why would I despise you if I hadn't been in love in the first place."

"You could have broken my heart but you went after my soul."

"You did the same to me years ago. You took my soul away and I became just a shell.", he isn't complaining, just letting you know how difficult it was for him as well, "I planned everything to get back to you but what wasn't planned was my feelings resurfacing, falling in love with you all over again. I had forgotten all the schemes, had forgotten the reason why I hated you in the first place."

When he rests his forehead against yours, you close your eyes basking in the moment. What he did was definitely beyond any excuse but Seungcheol isn't entirely at fault. The fact that he was ready to start again with you after how you had treated him years ago proves the truth behind his words. The difference is you were forced to act out but he wasn't. He chose to destroy you.

So your eyes snap open and you're pushing him away.

"Leave Seungcheol.", you step away, "And never come back again."

Seungcheol sighs, "What should I do for you take me back? If you want I would never show myself in the vicinity of the academy. I wouldn't even ask you anything remotely related to your works or the academy. I'll stay all out of it, I promise."

"Nothing you do would make me go back to you.", your words taste bitter in your mouth, "We are not meant to be, we're not good for each other."

That is basically you firmly rejecting him, letting him aware that he has axed the mended fence.

Seungcheol smiles sadly, "Only if I could show you my heart and mind."

He then leaves with a heavy heart.

The next few days goes by Seungcheol racking his thoughts to make up his mind. Every time he thinks about you wanting to desperately cut ties with him, he relents. He laments on himself for what he has caused. At nights when he deliberately stays late, he mentally prepares himself to sign those papers because that's the only way to atone for his sins.

But those divorce papers get through every night without getting signed. Because when Seungcheol thinks he's ready that's when the realisation gnaws on him that he's actually not, that he'll never be.

And it gets harder each time he tries.

So one night, he lets his intrusive thoughts get the best of him and he ends up calling you.

"I'm trying but I can't bring myself to sign those papers", he speaks into the phone clutching it hard followed by a shaky breath, "I really want to give you what you want but whenever I think about not having you in my life, my willingness deters."

You stay quiet.

"Sorry to disturb you. Don't know what I was thinking. Please take care of yourself, bye.", he hangs up and collapses back on the chair.

Wonwoo watches through the blinds and he isn't new to this. Years ago Seungcheol had gone into a spiral, had almost given up on living post the breakup and now it hurts Wonwoo to see the history repeating itself.

So this time he promises to intervene for both of your sake, specially Seungcheol.

He has two things on his to-do list and though he isn't sure what the outcome will be, he's going to do them. He gathers everyone and let's them know of his plan.

"Mingyu, Eunsoo, Seungkwan", his gaze sweeps on the three, "You're gonna go and convince Y/N."

"I'll go to uncle and aunt.", Wonwoo says.

Eunsoo looks at him questionably, "We get our part. But are you sure your friend's gonna be okay?"

"Most importantly, I'm not sure how this will end because both of them are unpredictable as fuck.", Mingyu adds.

Seungkwan who was silent the whole time, speaks, "Guys, let's go for it. We will handle the aftermath.", he looks at Wonwoo, "You'll have to take care of Seungcheol because he's gonna hurt the most."

"It's better to be over it, Seungcheol deserves to know."

"What's wrong with you guys?", You ask absolutely astonished. All of your friends have suddenly busted into your house and are now advocating you on something that is supposed to be out of their box.

"Why are you suddenly siding with Seungcheol?", you say with a frown, "I'm feeling betrayed. I'm gonna call Chan now."

Eunsoo and Mingyu break into cold sweat knowing how scary your brother can be. Seungkwan sighs looking at the other two and gets that he has no other way but to sort down to what he's best at. He says, "Y/N, do you think we'd ever think ill of you? Do you think we'd be at your door because suddenly we felt emphatic towards Seungcheol? That's how lowly you think of us?"

The look on Mingyu and Eunsoo's faces are absolute comedic. They didn't expect Seungkwan would pull out his trump card.

Your gaze is unwavering when you say, "This won't work on me you know right?"

Seungkwan smiles, "Of course I know but we also know that you love Seungcheol and won't be happy without him. So we're saying all this just for your sake, not his, not anyone else's."

"You're wr-"

"You had 7 years but you couldn't get over him, even accepted his family just to marry him.", Seungkwan continues, "You had come across so many good men all these years but no one piqued your interest because you only had Seungcheol in your heart."

"Y/N, I did believe him when he said he fell in love again. I had seen the way he looked at you, the way he was protective around you. The way his eyes were always on you, radiating love. It may have started as an act but at some point it became real.", Eunsoo smiles at you, "He loves you."

"But Soo--"

"If you really loathed him, you wouldn't have waited for him to sign those divorce papers, you would have upsurged everything. You have the power to ruin the Chois wholly but you're just buying yourself some time.", Mingyi adds and immediately shifts to hug you, "What Seungcheol did was incredibly wrong, wait he didn't even do it. It was Jiah."

"Are you not getting Jiah did all just to separate you both again?", Seungkwan ask and you look at him wide eyed.

"She had done the exact thing years back and was successful. Please don't let her win again. If she can't have Seungcheol, she has planned all this for you to not have him as well.", Eunsoo voices out her concerns, "Don't let all these heartbreaks, tears and sacrifices go in vain just because of some misunderstandings. Don't do something you'd regret because you didn't mend it when you had a chance."

Your heart sinks at their words.

"Take your time but choose what you think is the best for you.", Eunsoo rubs your back gently, "Rationality shouldn't always take the stance, sometimes hearts should be listened to."

You take a deep breath and say, "Fine guys, I'll think about it."

The smile on their faces are unmatchable.

Seungcheol is worried when he receives a call from his mother asking him to urgently come to their house. Wonwoo is already waiting by the car and though Seungcheol asks if he knows anything he stays tight lipped throughout the ride.

"I'll be waiting for you right here. Call me if you need me.", Wonwoo says with an intone and for some reason it doesn't resonate well with Seungcheol.

He is led into his father's study where he sees both of his parents waiting. They are heartbroken seeing their only son. Seungcheol has lost weight, accumulated bags under red eyes, appearance unkempt.

"Take a seat.", his father says, "I have something to tell you and it's regarding Y/N."

Seungcheol immediately perks up at your mention. An eerie silence falls upon the room. Seungcheol's anxious gaze searches for his parents'.

"Y/N was forced to break up with you years ago. I had made her do so.", his father admits.

Seungcheol freezes. He thinks he's hearing things that are not supposed to make any sense.

"Ever since I had started the business I had been diligent to it. Dedication and honesty does account for success but so also being money minded and cunning. As years went by that consistency and success made me cling to riches, fame and status that came along with it.", his father says as he takes a seat gesturing him to do the same. "You must be remembering that we were facing financial crisis because one of our major investor had withdrawn. It had affected us greatly."

Seungcheol nods, "We were on the verge of facing bankruptcy."

"Since Jiah's father runs a finance company, we had made small sort of deals previously but that time the amount required was large and no one was willing to help us not even her father. But later Jiah came to me and offered me a deal."

"W-What deal?"

"That she would convince her father to provide us support only if", there's an ominous pause before Mr. Choi looks at him and says, "I remove Y/N out of your life."

A tear falls from his eye, as he hears the tale of betrayal from none other but his father.

"I have never liked Y/N, the reason was basic, she didn't belong to our circle. Initially I thought she was just a fling but so I agreed with Jiah."

Seungcheol is numb at this point, he just sorts to listening.

"One day I had brought in Y/N to let her know that she needs to find her way out of your life.", Mr. Choi's gaze falls, "She instantly refused. No matter what I said she wasn't willing to leave you. One meeting turned to two, two turned to three but she was hellbent on not letting you go."

"With Jiah constantly pressurizing me, threatening to nullify the deal if not taken action soon, I became desperate.", he confesses, "So I resorted to one thing I should have never done. I can never forgive myself for that."

You say in utter disbelief, "Why don't you tell your son to breakup with me instead? Stop pestering me, you know we both love each other and Mr. Choi let me make this clear, this is the last time I'm meeting you."

Mr. Choi gives you a sickening smile. He casually says, "Your brother is currently studying in Australia, if I'm not wrong."

You pale instantly, "W-What about him?"

"You're right, this is gonna be our last meeting. If you don't breakup with my son, I'm not sure what I'll do with your brother. What if you don't get to see your dear little brother anymore?"

"Mr. Choi, you can't do this. Please--"

"I'm not here to negotiate. I think you're smart enough to make the right choice. So tell me Y/N, what did you decide?"

You are crying and begging but there's no mercy reserved to spare for you. How are you supposed to choose between your brother and the love of your life? You will have to so you choose what's best for all, you choose both.

"Fine, I'll breakup with Seungcheol. So stay away from my brother."

Mr. Choi smiles in mirth, "You made the right descision. Rest assured."

With job being done, he is walking out of the hall when your call of his name reaches his ears.

He turns with an incredulous look on his face as he waits for you to speak.

"Promise me that you'll never tell Seungcheol about this incident.", comes your strained voice.

"I wasn't planning to anyways.", Mr. Choi says, "Even better for me, I promise to not tell Seungcheol about any of this."

Seungcheol runs to his father with the intention of doing something unspeakable but he stops right in front of him and collapses on the ground.

"How could you do this?", he sobs uncontrollably, "How could you stoop so low?", he balls his hands into fists and channels the anger on the floor, hitting it again and again that's when his mother steps in to stop him.

He looks at her and say, "How could you not tell me? How could you tolerate your husband even after knowing all this?", he then swats her away.

Getting up, he's gasping for air, unable to comprehend with the pain in his chest and head. Restlessness engulfs him but he doesn't let both of his parents to even touch him.

"I'm ashamed to call you both my parents.", he spats out, "I'll never forgive for ruining our lives. I hope all of this was worth it."

Then he's running out of the house ignoring the calls of his name. Wonwoo is immediately grabbing his friend, making him sit and drink water.

"You also knew but didn't tell me?", Seungcheol asks as fresh tears stream down his face.

"I only came to know recently and Cheol even if I had known, it's not my story to tell.", Wonwoo answers.

It takes Seungcheol over an hour to calm down.

"You don't need to attend me, I'm fine.", Seungcheol says stoicly, "You can go, I have somethings to take care of."

Though Wonwoo refutes but Seungcheol is adamant, leaving no choice for him but to obey his boss.

As soon as Wonwoo gets out of the car, Seungcheol drives off.

You are extremely tired, mentally and today for some reasons are you feel thinned out physically as well.

Staring at the cello, ominous thoughts fill in your mind. Because no matter how hard you try, you are unable to produce anything. There are no notes or no tunes, it's all blank.

And you're scared, what if music doesn't choose you anymore? What if you can't produce anything for the rest of your life? All these possibilities scares you enough to spend sleepless nights. It has disturbed your appetite as well.

Tossing and turning, as you've been doing for nights with minimal sleep at dawn hours, you sit up startled when the doorbell rings.

All the exhaustion is now replaced with concern when you see Seungcheol who continuously weeps at the door.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Just a shake of head and he keeps on crying.

It's been about twenty minutes since he arrived crying and you're seriously considering about calling Wonwoo.

The way he's visibly hurting, hurts you too and you resort to hug him, patting his back, "If you're hurting because of me, please don't.", you say softly, tears pricking at your eyes subconsciously.

Seungcheol pulls away, looking at you. His sobs stop and the first thing he does is hold your face and kiss you. You're surprised, his lips graze yours but you don't kiss him back. Your hands push his chest and he's detaching himself mumbling a string of apologies.

"It was all for nothing.", he sounds so heartbroken when he speaks, "All those years spent in pain, hatred and resentment towards you, you didn't deserve any of it."

You have an inkling and it doesn't settle well in your bones, "Whatever you're saying is making no sense. Why are you here?"

Seungcheol looks dead in your eyes, "Because I know now. I know what happened all those years ago."

Your soul leaves your body at his words. You never wanted him to find out because you knew it'd tear him apart.

"W-Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

And your very first instinct is to grab your phone and make a call to his father but Seungcheol doesn't let you. The phone gets snatched from your hands and thrown away somewhere.

"Why did you do it?", he asks and his questions irks you.

You scoff, "Are you seriously asking me why I did it after knowing everything? Seungcheol, I was threatened with my brother's life, what did you expect me to do?"

Seungcheol shakes his head, "No that Y/N. Why did you make dad promise you about not telling me about this?"

"What could I have done Seungcheol?", your voice cracks, "I loved you so much and trust me, I tried everything I could to be with you, to not hurt you but-- it killed me to lie to you. I went through hell and back trying to stop myself from telling you 'no I'm lying, please don't leave, I love you as much as you do'.

"That day I took your heart away.", You exhale sharply, "I didn't want to crush your soul as well, didn't want to make it anymore difficult for you then it already was. I knew how much you looked upto your father, how much you cherished your parents. I didn't want you to fight your family", your heart twinges as you continue, "Though it wasn't possible for me to love again, I prayed that you would move on, meet someone who'd make you forget all the sorrows I gave you. I wished for you to fall in love again and live happily."

You chuckled through your tears, "Won't lie, it would have hurt me but if it assured your happiness I'd have hurt myself all over again, all of the times."

Seungcheol observes you quietly, he absorbs your words to his heart.

"What does that make me, Y/N?", he asks defeated.

"You weren't at fault, Cheol. I chose what it seemed the best for all of us."

"I hated you, married you and plotted revenge. Hurt you and now indirectly lead to something that almost ruined your career.", he speaks as if he's narrating a monologue, "I kept wounding the wounded and siding with the foes."

"Stop blaming yourself. What you did was indeed wrong, you should have never attempted take a blow at my career. But years ago, even after all that you were ready to start again.", you remind him.

Seungcheol completely shuts himself out.

"Till yesterday, I was in a dilemma. They say if you love someone you should let them go. Call me selfish but I couldn't even think of parting ways with you. I wanted to fight for us. I'd have courted you until you got bored of me. I would have waited for a lifetime, even if you'd have moved on.", he avoids eye contact so that his resolution doesn't deter, "But how could I tie you to the people who tried to harm you, harm your family?"

"I won't beg for forgiveness anymore. Honestly, I don't want you to forgive us. If you're having second thoughts about us, discard them. Please just discard me.", he voices out in desperation, "Be selfish and choose yourself this one time."

He takes out a paper from his coat pocket which you recognise very well.

"Till yesterday signing these papers seemed impossible for me but it's surprising, how events turned out to be.", he takes your hand and places the paper saying, "I have signed them. This time I chose what's best for you."

There's a sickening churn in your stomach that makes you realise that there's nothing you can do.

"I love you, Y/N."

The weight of those words fall heavy on you as Seungcheol closes in.

"For one last time, please.", he says holding your face.

You incline towards him and instantly his lips are on yours. One of his hands now settle on your neck firmly as your lips dance on featherly. His other hand is gripping your waist to hold you in place. The saltiness of his tears burn on your tongue, making you suck in a gasp. His kisses you till his heart's content because it's a kiss of goodbye before resting his forehead on yours.

"Don't go", your strained voice whispers, "Please don't go."

Seungcheol whispers back, "I have to. Please don't stop me, I'm not strong enough to refuse you."

The tears stream down your face, "Would nothing I do be enough to stop you?"

"Y/N, please", he pleads, "You were right when you said we're not meant to be because I have only hurt you. I don't deserve you."

"Cheol..."

He steps back and you're suddenly engulfed by coldness.

"The chapter named Choi Seungcheol in your life ends right now.", he balls his hands, grits his teeth, does everything to not let those tears spill, "Since you might not submit the divorce papers, I have already handed over a copy to your attorney."

He turns back, rubbing his chest, the pain is unbearable.

"Cheol, please..."

"It's snowing so don't follow me outside, you'll catch a cold. Goodbye Y/N."

Then he leaves, from your house, apparently from your life.

And you realised not all stories have a happy ending, there's not always a happily ever after.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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bunnylovesani · 6 months

Text

A Birthday Affair

Summary: It's your birthday and your best friend is making you a cake! Too bad she's left you home alone with her boyfriend, Anakin. She should've known you two had a thing for each other, right?

Content warnings: cheating, p in v sex, creampie, daddy kink

WC: 2.6k

“Alright guys, there’s only one shop that sells the buttercream we need and it’s way at the other end of town.” Padme shouts tiredly, grabbing her coat by the door. “Could’ve sworn I’d already picked some up…but anything for the birthday girl. I might be a while so make sure you keep an eye on the cake in the oven!”

“We’re not that incompetent, Padme.” Anakin rolls his eyes.

“Of course, we got it!” You answer as she leaves and turn to face Anakin. “You should really be nicer to her.”

“I’m plenty nice.” He responds. “And you’re the birthday girl, it’s you I need to be nice to.”

“But she’s your girlfriend. You’re obligated to be nice to her all year round.” You put the empty batter bowl into the sink as Anakin stares at you across the kitchen, leaning against the countertops.

“I’m about as nice to her as she is to me.” He murmurs and you look back in confusion. Were they having issues you didn’t know about?

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Padme is the perfect girlfriend and you-“ You paused, looking at him up and down with a light scowl. “-well you’re you.”

“Ah, so you think I’m not good enough for her? How cliche.” He gives you a look of displeasure. “And what is it that makes me so unworthy of her company?”

“You’re not bad per se, you’re just…” You sigh, struggling to put your thoughts into words. “Look at it this way- Padme is one of those rare people. She manages to balance being successful and beautiful with somehow being humble and kind- I know for a fact she wakes up every morning to make you breakfast- and she does things like drive all over the city looking for a specific frosting for her best friend. That’s just the kind of person she is.” You ramble on, walking around the kitchen as Anakin stares at you in fascination.

“And then there’s you, who’s forgotten every anniversary and has been fired from every job because of his inability to control his temper. You see what I’m getting at?”

Anakin furrows his thick brows as he processes what you’re saying and you think he might get mad at you for a second but to your relief, he cracks a bright smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as much of a mess as you are. Just as unworthy.“ You laugh and a puzzling smirk crosses his face.

“So you’re saying I should be with someone better suited for me?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Someone like…you?” He raises an eyebrow.

You chuckle nervously and take a step back, suddenly aware of how close he’d gotten.

“Obviously not. I-I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” Stuttering, you try to move away from him but he doesn’t budge, tall figure towering over you. That stupid smirk he has plastered over his face increases your heart rate tenfold.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Have I got you flustered?” He sneers.

“Stop playing around.” You push him away by his chest and escape to the sofa, slumping down it with a huff.

“Padme told me about the little crush you had on me.” He stands behind you and you refuse to face him, consumed with embarrassment.

“Crush is too strong of a word for what that was.” You feel your cheeks burning up at the memory; when you first met Anakin at that bar last Christmas, you’ll admit you initially wanted him all to yourself. But what were you supposed to do when Padme got to him first? You can’t believe she told him.

“So you don’t find me attractive anymore?” He asks in that provocative tone of his.

“The outer shell is fine but the inside could do with a little work.” You feign confidence, avoiding the question. To be truthful, you found him incredibly attractive. So much so that you actively avoided him because you felt yourself folding under pressure anytime he was near.

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He asked quietly, taking a seat on the footstool across the sofa.

“No, but I sense you’re going to anyway.” You brace yourself.

“That night I saw you and Padme playing pool at the bar.” He begins. “I wanted to approach you, not her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“But she came up to me first and when I asked her who her friend was, she told me you weren’t interested…in men.” Your mouth widens as his words linger in the air.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” You stutter, feeling a small sense of betrayal run through you. “I don’t know why she’d do that.”

“Because she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise.” He gets up to sit next to you and you tense up at his knee lightly brushing past yours.

“I thought you were a lesbian for half the time I’ve known you- until you started dating that loser a few months ago and Padme had to come clean. She thought I’d find it funny.” He curls his lip in disgust.

“And did you?”

“No.” He responds, steely eyes staring right through you. “I’m still mad about it.”

“Anakin…” You cautiously murmur, sensing the direction this could so easily take.

“I’m just saying, remember that next time you want to rant about how great she is. If it wasn’t for her deceit, it could’ve been us together.” He rests his hand on your leg but you swiftly brush it off.

“But it’s not. And it never will be. You’ll always either be her boyfriend or her ex. Either way, you’re off limits.” You try to assert some boundaries before your self-control completely slips away from you.

“And if it weren’t for these limits?” He reaches his hand up, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Oh God, the cake! Must go and check on the cake.” You get up, trying to escape his grasp but he pushes you back down.

“I said what if it weren’t for those limits?” He repeats sternly and you can’t help but fixate on his rosy pink lips. You’d always wondered how they’d feel pressed up against yours.

“In another galaxy where you’d never met her-“ You sigh, walls crumbling down. “then I’d be yours.”

“Is that what you want?” His husky voice mutters, barely above a whisper.

“It doesn’t matter because this isn’t another galaxy. This is reality.” You shuffle back a little in an attempt to impose some distance between you.

“Fuck reality. I want you.” He pulls you in and you’re hit with a wave of warmth radiating off his firm body.

“Anakin, no. Padme is my best friend! I’m not a homewrecker.” You cry out, unsure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“You can’t wreck something that’s already fallen apart. I don’t care about her— I don’t care about any of it anymore. For God’s sake, I even hid the damn buttercream because I wanted her to leave us alone for a while.” Your mouth gapes open at his revelation.

“I knew it!” You point your finger at him but he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you onto him, faces barely an inch apart.

“I need you. In every way possible.” His voice is so breathy it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

“Ugh, Ani I-“

“Do you want me as much as I want you? Please, put me out of my misery.” He whines and you bite your lip over the beautiful desperation in his words.

“Of course I want you, I’ve always wanted you.” The words barely leave your mouth before he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you sloppily, grip on your jaw a little too strong. He has you gasping for air, stubbornly holding onto you like it was the last kiss he’d ever have.

“Don’t you worry about her, I’ll take care of everything.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb comfortingly and you feel all your worries melt away; he was here, he would fix it all.

“I’ve thought about this for so long.” You cry, pawing at him. The sense of elation you felt at finally being able to touch him, inhale him, taste him- after an eternity of forcing every feeling down. You did it all out of respect for Padme, out of respect for Ani who chose her- but now that you’d learned the truth, restraint flew out the window. He should’ve been yours- he is yours.

“Lie down for me sweetheart, I wanna see my pretty girl.” He pushes you down onto the sofa and inches your skirt down, admiring your pretty pink panties. “You wear these just for me?” You nod frantically- it’s true, you wore everything for him. Your best underwear, your prettiest lipstick, your shortest little skirts, it was all for him. He pushes your top up slowly, messy kisses being planted all over your tummy until he reaches your perky tits.

“Is there a reason you’re not wearing a bra, young lady?” He scolds you playfully.

“Mhm, it’s fun watching you fight the urge to stare at the way they bounce and jiggle.”

“You noticed that, huh?” You giggle at his honesty as he rips your top off, laughter instantly replaced with breathy moans as he squeezes your boobs harshly, taking turns sucking on the nipples.

“Best pair of tits I’ve seen in my life.” He mutters into your chest as he continues to kiss and lick all over, making you writhe underneath him.

“Ani, please.” You buck your hips up towards him, desperately needing more. “Hurry, we don’t know when she’ll be home.”

“Then it’s a good thing the door bolts shut from the inside.” He grins, hands trailing down between your thighs.

“Ani, no! We can’t lock her out, what would she think?”

“I don’t care, all I know is if I don’t get enough of this sweet pussy, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He groans as he hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you down, pulling your panties to the side. You bashfully cover your face with your hands as he rubs your clit with his thumb and when you peek through your fingers, you see him biting his lip and curving his eyebrows into a pitiful swoop. Just as you think it can’t get better, he lowers his boxers and frees his cock, heavy length slapping against his stomach. Not wanting to inflate his already engorged ego, you try not to look shocked- but he sees right through you.

“You tryin’ to make me feel bad, sweetie? No problem, I’ll have you squealing in a minute anyway.” He confidently asserts and you feel him rubbing his tip along your soaking folds; the anticipation alone is enough to make you throw your head back.

With one sudden thrust, he pushes himself into your tight pussy and you sink your teeth into the pillow beside you to conceal some of the noise. Reaching forward and grabbing it from you, he tosses it aside and grabs you by the jaw.

“I want to hear every little sound you make. Raw and unmuted.” He growls.

“B-but someone might hear-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” He asserts aggressively. “Let them hear. They might as well start getting used to it now.” You moan at his depraved words, drool forming around your lips.

“If you want something in your mouth that bad, here.” He offers you his fingers- which you accept gratefully, sucking and biting on them to your heart’s content. Just as you’ve adjusted, he slides the rest of his cock in- filling you so deeply you question how it’s even possible. The mewling that proceeds boosts Anakin’s ego more than is healthy; you pant and whine so fervently that you look like you’re on the verge of passing out. Your pupils are dilated, your hair messed up, your thighs dampened with arousal and sweat.

“Ani, mm fuck- fill me up, please!” You dig your fingernails into his back as he lowers himself to kiss your wet lips, silencing your sobs and pleading if only for a moment.

“You want my cum, sweetheart? You wanna be daddy’s cum slut, hm? Let me hear you say it.” His strokes get deeper and sloppier as he hurtles his way to his release.

“Yes daddy, yes! I wanna be your cum slut so bad, it’s the only thing I want.” You ramble, words barely audible over the loud sounds of smacking and squelching.

“I could never say no to you.” He whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck planting open-mouth kisses.

“I need it, need it noww.” You whine, tits bouncing into circles as he roughly pounds into you, strong hand maintaining a firm grip on your hip as he rams himself into you one last time: cum spilling from his tender cock and filling you up to the brim. Pulling out, the sensation of his cum dribbling out of you doubled with his thumb circling your clit sends you over the edge, orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. He rests his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m gonna leave her.” He softly speaks. “I’m leaving and I’m telling her about us.”

Your heart seizes in both panic and excitement. There’s an us?

The familiar thud of footsteps in the hallway has you both scrambling to get dressed- you pull your top down and your skirt back on but can’t find your frilly panties anywhere. Anakin just about finishes zipping up his jeans when Padme walks in to the sight of her very flustered-looking best friend and boyfriend, sitting oddly far apart in unnatural positions on the couch.

“Hey guys, I had to check several different stores but I finally found the right buttercream, what have you- wait, do I smell something burning?”

Fuck, you forgot the cake.

Running over to the oven, she scrambles to pull out the smoking tray. Despair takes over her face when she sees the round crust, black as cinder.

“How did you forget?! What were you doing?” She yells, throwing the ashes straight into the bin and frowning at you.

“Nothing, Padme. We just got carried away chatting is all. ‘m really sorry.” You walk over to join her in the kitchen but start to feel Ani’s seed leaking out of your stretched-out hole and dribbling down your thighs. Noticing the glistening sticky wetness, Anakin rushes over in front of you to distract Padme.

“It was my fault, I said I’d keep track of time and I didn’t.” He explains, subtly tossing a kitchen towel your way.

“Classic Anakin, honestly a monkey would have better time management.” She hisses, barging past him and opening windows to let the smoke out. “No wonder you can’t keep a job.” He takes a shaky breath and you can see how hard he’s trying to restrain himself.

“Not now.” You think, giving him a knowing glare and he nods reluctantly. Padme stomps over to the bathroom and you quickly wipe the cummy mess off your thighs, giggling a little at the excitement of sneaking around. Anakin rushes over and gives you a feverish kiss, whispering in your ear “She goes to bed early, you know.”

Maybe you wouldn’t tell her just yet.

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10

Part 2 here

#hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #star wars smut #sam monroe #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars prequels #darth vader #padme amidala #sw prequels

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sunraies · 1 year

Text

One Day

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings- pure fluff, drunkeness

Rafe loves helping you get ready, for date nights, parties and even bed. As he helps a thought crosses his mind.

Established relationship. Again not sure about this one

It started off with the little things, helping clasp a necklace or zipping up a dress.

He'd use those moments to steal a kiss on the soft skin of your wrist or neck, humming as he caught your smile.

He soon moved onto helping with your shoes. After having your nails perfectly manicured, you groaned as you tried buckling your heels. The stupid delicate buckle impossible to grip as your nails got in the way.

You huff, sitting back with a pout as Rafe fixed his hair in the mirror. He never slicked it back anymore as you always messed it up but he still put some moose through it, leaving it soft for you.

"What's up, baby girl?"

"These fucking nails"

He laughed and kneeled in front of you, taking your foot and resting it on his knee "I like your fucking nails" He smiled, and made quick work of sorting out your shoe.

"Thank you" you sighed before giggling as he placed a gentle kiss on your exposed ankle.

If you'd told anyone Rafe Cameron was the biggest sweetheart you knew, they wouldn't believe you. To the rest of the island he was a rich, arrogant asshole but with you, he treated you like a princess. He'd find any opportunity to hold you, kiss you and just be with you.

His lips moved up your leg, placing a trail of little kisses up to your knee. You ran your hand though his hair before gently pushing him away

"We'll be late, baby" your nails running over his scalp making him groan.

"Fuck the reservation"

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"You wearing that tonight?" Rafe watched you check your outfit in the mirror for the millionth time. You twisted your body at different angles while he waited for you, lounging on his bed.

"Does it look ok?" You weren't sure why you were so worried. It was just a party at Topper's. Maybe it was the fact people still watched you and Rafe, even after two years being together.

He quickly discarded his phone and came up behind you as you fussed with your hair in the mirror again. "You look perfect, baby"

He moved your hair back before placing kisses on your neck. You sighed and closed your eyes as his hands roamed down to your hips, pulling you back into him.

"Hm, you smell good too?" He smiled, nose nudging your shoulder

"It's the perfume, you brought me" He'd brought you a custom perfume for your most recent birthday. It was the perfect blend, made just for you.

He loved when you wore the things he brought you.

Looking over your body in the mirror. He noticed every item of jewellery you wore was something he'd brought over the time you had been together. He glanced to your left hand, staring at you empty ring finger. One day that would own something he brought too.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"Need help with your earrings?"

You nodded, slouched on his bed. You had a very fun night at Topper's. Dancing, singing and making out with your gorgeous boyfriend. He really was the most gorgeous human being you knew.

You'd stumbled up to his room with his hands on your waist, guiding you in your drunk state. He could handle an awful lot more than you. After challenging Kelce to shots and drinking him under the table, he realised it was best get you home.

"I love you, gorgeous" you gave him a lopsided smile, grabbing his cheeks to stop him from spinning.

He laughed at you as removed your hands, kissing your knuckles before helping you get ready for bed.

"Arms up, babe" he'd removed your jewellery knowing you hated sleeping in it, other than a small gold necklace, he had brought you on your first anniversary.

"Trying to undress me? Cheeky" you winked at him before threw your arms up anyway.

After a little bit of a struggle he finally had you in his yellow t-shirt that was now yours before going to grab your make up wipes, moisturiser and a glass of water.

You were laying on your back, having flopped backwards on his bed when he lay beside you. You whined and hit his hand away as he tried to remove your make up

"I know" He said softly as you snatched up you nose "but you'll hate me in the morning if I don't get this off you"

"I could never hate you" you turned to face him, looking in his eyes. "Your eyes are like the ocean"

He laughed as you squealed when he wiped your cheek with the damp wipe. To stop you moving away, he gently held your chin.

"There, beautiful" He kissed your forehead when he was done making you sigh and close your eyes.

You hummed, reaching for him and pulling him close to kiss him.

"Can we get nuggets?" You muttered against his lips, making him chuckle.

"In the morning, sleep time, baby girl"

He managed to get you under the covers and brushed hair away from your face as you rested on his chest. Looking down at you, he glanced to your empty left hand again. Definitely one day.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks rafe #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe x y/n

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buckys-wintersoldier · 2 months

Text

The Winter Solider | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> WinterSoldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!ScientistWorker!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> The Winter Soldier is often in lab with you for new experiments for the super soldier serum. But this time you talk, about him and about your feelings.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.276

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (T) mention of violence, Buckys trauma, fluff

𝐀/𝐍 -> I wanna thank @amathslutsguidetofandom for helping me to come up with that idea.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | April 2 | Theme: Bucky Barnes | Metal Arm, Memories, Ghost story, "But I knew him.", Favorite Bucky quote | @catws-anniversary

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Screams, blood, and torture aren't things you haven't seen before. Since some Hydra agents kidnapped you and brought you to the base, you see and hear those things every day. You never started to agree with those experiments, but you are always under control. A lot of agents work with you in the lab, so you don't have many options to escape out of the base. You're also used to working with the most powerful weapon of Hydra - the Winter Solider. You don't know much about him - just that he is a ghost story. Everyone knows him, but not many people have really seen him. He is doing his job well and hiding himself. When he does his job, there are no witnesses. You see and work often with him in the lab to do more experiments to find out more about the Super Soldier serum. He is the only Super Soldier Hydra has so far, so they try to get as much information as possible about the Winter Soldier.

Two agents walk through the door, and you immediately look up at them; their jaws are clenched and their bodies are tensed when they enter the room you're in. Behind them walks a man with long brown hair, steel blue eyes, a highly defined muscular body, and a metal arm into the room. His eyes scan the room; his eyes are cold as ice, and his body language doesn't say anything about his feelings at all. You look at the agents while two others close the door behind the Winter Soldier.

"Can we leave, or do you need us?" One of the agents asks, and you look at him.

"You can leave," you mumble, and the agents nod.

Before they leave the room, they grasp the Winter Soldier by his arms and push him over to a chair. The blue eyes of the man look filled with fear when they try to get him to the chair. The agents struggle when the soldier tries to wiggle himself out of the grip, but the agents are strong and especially rough enough to get him on the chair. You look at the whole scene, and the fear you see in the blue eyes causes your heart to ache. He is nothing but a weapon for them, a machine, and they treat him exactly like that. Then they leave the room. When the door closes, you look to the solider, a sweet smile on your lips. You see him struggle to stay where he sits; his eyes are narrowed, and he grips the side of the chair tightly.

"You can come here when you don't want to sit there," you say, and he immediately gets off the chair.

His gaze softens, and you hear the sigh of relief leaving his lips. He walks slowly toward you; you're gripping some things you need and turning around. The soldier suddenly stands just a few inches away, and you need to lift your head to look into his face. You feel like he is softly smiling when your eyes widen softly and your cheeks heat up.

"Thank you," he says in his deep voice.

You haven't heard him talk often until yet. He is mostly quiet, standing somewhere in the corner or the edge of a room, and he scans the whole room with his eyes. But his voice is just as beautiful as he is, and your breath hitches before you clear your throat.

"Could you sit down on the couch?" You ask and point to the couch in the corner.

You're not even sure why they put a couch in the lab, but when the soldier nods, you're glad they put it there. He turns around and walks away; wherever he walks, this place is his runway. His waist is pretty small compared to his broad chest and shoulders. And he walks like a model before he reaches the couch and lets himself fall on it. You're smirking, taking all the things you need before you walk over to him. You slide a smaller chair with you and place it between his thick thighs, which he is spreading.

"Let me see your wounds, please. I just wanna put something on them," you say, and he nods.

His arms grip the hem of his shirt, and he takes it off and places it in his lap. His face drops when you look at his body, his shoulder full of scars around his metal arm. You smile softly at him, raising your hand, and see the way his body tenses. When your soft fingers touch his skin, he slowly calms down, especially when you draw small circles on it.

"Just wanna look at the wounds. Maybe you can tell me a few things about yourself. Or why do you have so many scars around your arm? Did they do it to you?"

"No. I-I mean, a few yes, but the others- I tried to rip the arm off," he confesses and breathes heavily. "I thought it's ugly, and they wouldn't want me as Winter Soldier anymore. But now it's even uglier."

"It's a part of you, and it makes you beautiful, s-. Do you know your name?"

The soldier smirks, loving the way your cheeks heat up. You just said he is beautiful, and it causes butterflies in his stomach, like always when he sees you. You're the only person who is soft with him, and he loves to be around you because then he knows he is safe.

"I-I guess it's Bucky," he says with a smirk.

You just look at one of his bleeding wounds. You furrow your eybrows and push away to look at him. He chuckles when he sees your confused expression.

"The man on the bridge, h-he called me Bucky. I didn't know what a Bucky was, but there was nothing around us he could have meant," Bucky says.

"Bucky, it's a beautiful name for a handsome man like you. I'm Y/N," you say, and Bucky smirks, blushing softly. "Did you know the man?"

"I don't know. I think- I think so. I told Pierre about it. I asked him who he was, but he punched me and- and then he brainwashed me. But I knew him," Bucky tells you with a sigh.

You nod, cleaning Bucky's wounds, before you push yourself back and smile softly. Your hand is still running over his soft skin, causing him to shiver slightly.

"I just asked him, 'Who the hell is Bucky?' and he looked at me so confused."

His blue eyes are tearing up, and you feel a small tear escaping the corner of his eyes. This man, the man who is known as the most powerful weapon, shows feelings in front of you that you never thought he could show. But when he looks at you, his eyes shine so softly that the blue looks like the most beautiful ocean. And the two of you know there is more than just a relationship between a girl working in the lab and the winter soldier. The thing you have is meaningful and full of love.

"Bucky?"

"Mhm?"

"We will find a way to get out of here. And then we don't have to work for Pierre anymore."

He doesn't know where that comes from, but he gets off the couch. Bucky walks closer, capturing your cheeks with his big, warm hands. He leans closer; there is just an inch between your lips. You smirk and press your lips softly on his. Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him, while he smirks into the kiss.

Second part: Escape

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden

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phoward89 · 21 days

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Based on this ask

Young!President!Coriolanus x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ struggling to conceive, infertility, miscarriage, 2nd trimester miscarriage, anti-adoption views, adoption, angst, tragedy, bittersweet ending, Soft!Coryo, Supportive!Coryo

This is a very touchy, hard, and difficult subject. I hope I did this request justice.

*This is set in the Not A Bob universe*

You and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, have been married for a few years now. And in those few years you've desperately wanted a child. It started with a tiny want once you saw your friends start to get pregnant right away after getting married and grew into a desperate need once you and your iciscle of a husband celebrated your 5th wedding anniversary.

Truth be told, you were worried about your lack of conceiving since you and Coryo never used protection and fucked like bunnies. Only the gods know how high of a sex drive your husband has; how often he's plowing into you. So, in your mind you feel like you should've been pregnant at least 3 times already. But, sadly, you and your husband haven't been blessed.

And then one of your friends sends you a pregnancy announcement that has you in tears. She got married a few months before you and she's now having her fourth (Yes fourth!) child.

Your husband finds you staring at the announcement as if you'd be able to set it on fire via telekinesis. Upon walking over to the sofa in your private parlor, located in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace, he notices what the announcement is for that's lying on the coffee table.

Oh no. Your peasant of a friend, that managed to set her claws into some mediocre politician (who's in the rival party of the President), is having another brat. In Coriolanus' opinion he feels that your friend, Megara (who he never approved of) shouldn't be gloating and taunting you with professionally made up pregnancy announcements- not with how you and he have been struggling to conceive.

Coriolanus is concerned, as are you, about a lack of pregnancy. Of course, he needs an heir to carry on the Snow name, but he truly does want at least one child with you because he loves you; wants a family with you. And being on this hard, frustrating journey of trying and failing to fall pregnant every damn month during the past 5 years has shown him just how much he loves you and wants a family with you.

He's sure you'd be a wonderful mother and he wants nothing more then to make you one. But, unfortunately, he's been unable to do that.

You've both been to doctors and have gotten tests done, only to be assured that you're both young and healthy. You've both been told that you're trying ‘too hard’ to conceive; that it'll happen when you least expect it. You just nod and take in everything you're told while your husband curtly nods while thinking about whether to seek other opinions; what could be done to make a child possible.

The President lets out a deep sigh and sits down next to you. Wrapping his arms around you; holding you close to his chest and allowing you to cry, Coriolanus tells you, “I know you're hurt that she's having another baby while we haven't had one yet.” Softly stroking your hair, something that seems to calm him more than you, he assures you, “You can cry, my darling. I know you better than you know yourself, just let it out; cry.”

“It's not fair, Coryo.” You tell him as the tears you've been holding back starts rolling down your cheeks in a tremendous downpour. “Why does Megara, hell everyone we know, have children but we don't? Why can't I get pregnant?”

“I don't know, baby. I honestly don't know why everyone's able to have such an excessive amount of children while we're struggling to conceive just one.”

“It's not fair. Megara knows how hard the subject of pregnancy is for me and she just sends me this generic, but professionally done announcement. She couldn't have the decency and respect to call; tell me on the video phone or face to face at an afternoon tea or something?”

“Megara was always a peasant with poor manners. Her marrying some mediocre staffer for a senator of the party opposing mine just shows it.” Coriolanus tells you. Pressing a kiss to your head while continuing to stroke your hair, he suggests, “We could always go to another doctor. Get another opinion; see if there's any options.”

“You know there's nothing that can be done, Coryo. And the only option we have is adoption.”

“I refuse to discuss the topic of adoption, darling. I don't want some unwanted, District reject or some bastard baby of some Capitol City whore. I want our child to carry on the Snow bloodline; to make our family complete.” The president coldly and a bit cruelly tells you; cutting off the discussion of adoption before it can truly even begin.

You've learnt over the years to not to push your husband too hard. You cut your hair super short once, when you and Coriolanus were 18, and it really hit your relationship hard. There was trust lost between you that had to be rebuilt, especially when drama and rumors surrounded his tribute surfaces, but the two of you prevailed in the end. But, after that incident, you tried your hardest not to push Coriolanus’ buttons too hard.

And it seems like adoption was a subject that wouldn't push the President's buttons, but would push his big red nuclear weapon button.

Knowing that adoption was off the table, you weakly nod and agree to see another doctor. Coryo just kisses you and wipes the tears from your eyes. Then he assures you that he'll make the appointment for as soon as possible.

The latest doctor, one that was a fertility expert, had told you that you're young and healthy. That you seem to be in prime condition to have a child. He also concludes that stress might be a large factor in your issues to conceive, considering that you're the First Lady; that you're husband's President Snow.

The doctor gives you a diet plan full of foods that are rich in nutrients and vitamins known to help women conceive. He also gives you hormonal supplements to take as well. Oh, and the doctor explains how to track your ovulation and how to position yourself during and after lovemaking to ensure that your husband's seed takes root.

And Coriolanus is very tedious when it comes to you following the doctor’s orders. He's so hopeful after you received new instructions from a specialist, but you just feel exhausted. And now fucking is a project. Oh boy, it's normal until you start your ovulation window; then it feels like a big production. Various positions before and after to ensure that Coriolanus' seed can successfully get to your womb and take root is a very daunting task.

But your husband doesn't seem to mind. He's determined to have a child with you. But at this point you're about to throw in the towel. You're just so damn exhausted.

But after roughly 5 months of hormonal supplements and ritualistic sex, you FINALLY get pregnant.

When you missed your period, you were nervous and told Coryo. Of course, he made you an appointment with the doctor right away to be checked. You had blood tests done as well as a urine sample test. Waiting for the results while sitting on an examination table, in an itchy gown, with your husband by your side- clenching your hand with an iron grip- was very daunting.

“President Snow, First Lady Snow, I have the test results right here.” The fertility doctor announced, holding some papers in his hand, as he entered your room in the clinic. Sitting down on the stool near you, the doctor looked between you and your husband, only to smile, “Congratulations, First Lady Snow, you're pregnant.”

FINALLY!

After everything that you've been thru during the last 5 years you're finally expecting a child with the love of your life. You just can't believe it. You feel nothing overjoyed and relieved to finally be pregnant after so long.

Coryo, well, he's elated too. Ever since he's said his vows to you and made you his wife he's wanted a family with you. Now, the want is a reality. One that he's happy about. One that he feels blessed about. Coriolanus knew that with enough patience and perseverance it'd happen. That you'd fall pregnant.

“With the date of your last cycle that you provided the nurse with, I estimate that you're about 6 weeks a long in your pregnancy. I'd like to do an ultrasound to measure the fetus and get a better estimate of conception and how far along you are, First Lady Snow.”

“Okay.” You nod, smiling happily, while your husband just silently nods in agreement. Whatever's best for the baby must be done in his books.

After the exam, the doctor prescribed you some prenatal vitamins and an iron supplement. He also gave you some instructions to take it easy, but to also make sure to get plenty of fresh air and to take some walks to strengthen your disposition. The doctor also told Coriolanus to be mindful of pregnancy hormones; that the smallest slight or rude remark could put you into an emotional turmoil. A crying jag that could be draining.

You and Coryo thanked the doctor, agreed to follow all of his instructions, and made a follow-up appointment for a few weeks down the line before leaving and going home to the Presidential Palace.

President Snow's known to be a cold, callous, imposing, stoic man, but with you he's a very loving and devoted husband. After everything you've been thru, Coriolanus is actually quite worried about you. He's always hovering over you, wanting to ensure your comfort and safety.

Every morning you eat breakfast with him in the sunroom before he has to go to his office, in the public section of the Presidential Palace. And everyday during lunch he takes his break with you in the private living quarters of the Presidential Palace. Sometimes he arranges for lunch in the sunroom and other times it's in the rose garden that's in the greenhouse. But after every luncheon he takes you on a small walk in the rose garden to build up your and to ensure that you get plenty of fresh air.

And this goes on for months until you’re 24 weeks pregnant; nearing your third trimester. That's, sadly, when the unthinkable happens. When heartbreak hits you and your husband full force.

Your day had started out normally, as it always did. You took a warm shower and dressed for the day in a dress that flattered your round belly. Coryo had Tigris make you an entire new wardrobe to accommodate your swelling belly. Yes, your round and big now, but in a short time you'll grow even larger with the blessing you're carrying inside of you.

And then you had breakfast with your husband like you always did. Coriolanus was very gentle with you, helping you take your seat and pressing kisses to your forehead and running a soft, but protective hand over your swelling belly before serving you your breakfast and taking his seat next to you. You engage in small talk as you eat your salsa smothered eggs, something you've been craving for the last couple of months, and drink your juice while Coryo sips on his coffee, eats his hard boiled egg, and reads his newspaper while engaging in endearing conversation with you.

You speak about how you're feeling, the baby, and even start to think up baby names. At your last appointment the doctor confirmed that the baby’s a boy and encourage you and your husband to start thinking of baby names. To also start planning for a baby shower and to figure out a nursery design because everything was going smoothly. Before the president has to depart for his duties in his office on the other side of the mansion he promises to get you for lunch at noon sharp.

So, when noon closely approaches your sitting on the sofa in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace. In the parlor to be exact. And you're patiently waiting for your husband to get you.

You're reading one of your favorite books whenever you feel a sharp pain in your side. You gasp, placing your hand on your side. You take calming breaths, trying to stabilize yourself. But then you feel a lightning bolt straight in your lower belly.

You stand to your feet, with the intention to go get help, but the pain in your stomach brings you to your knees. And suddenly you feel something hot and wet trickle down your thighs. Shakily you fall on your butt, against the couch, and start to cry.

You know exactly what's happening.

You're suffering a miscarriage. And all you can do is loudly sob as your heartbreaks, as you feel more blood flow down your thighs.

Your lost in your own thoughts, your body's own trauma, that you don't even hear the door open or the footsteps of your husband rushing towards you while screaming your name at the top of his lungs. You don't notice how his eyes are panicked and full of horror.

You do, however feel him as he drops to the ground next to you; gathering you in his arms as you sob uncontrollably. You can feel his heartbreaking with yours as he places a hand over yours that's on your lower belly. His other hand’s petting your hair in a fruitless attempt to calm you both.

“I know, my love. I know, it hurts.” Coryo whispers against against your hair.

You just bury your head into his broad shoulders and clutch at his waistcoast while uncontrollable sobs wrack your body.

Coryo quickly goes into President Coriolanus Snow mode as screams for help, causing a maid to come running in. Her eyes are wide in fear, but before she can utter a word the president orders her to get him the nearby phone so that he can call the doctor. She does as he asks before scurrying off to prepare a guest room for you to experience the worst moment of your life in.

The maid knows that the doctor won't be able to help. Nobody's going to be able to help. It doesn't matter that you're the First Lady; married to President Snow: nobody can fucking help you.

No.

Not with the backasswards, asinine, laws that have strict limits on women's reproductive health in the mighty nation of Panem. If the baby's not to full term, a doctor won't touch the woman in fear of being accused of performing an abortion. A procedure that's illegal in Panem: one that will get a doctor arrested, charged, and unable to practice medicine ever again.

So, sadly, there's no help for a woman when she's suffering a miscarriage. If she's able to get to a hospital at the 8 or 8 ½ month mark then a doctor will try to save the baby. But other then that, well, a woman's on her own in Panem.

A hard, dark, nasty truth that hit both you and your husband right in the heart and the gut. Despite being President of Panem, Coriolanus couldn't make the doctor rush over and help you. No, because the doctor refused to risk his freedom and his medical license.

Coriolanus was beyond scared out of his mind, despite trying to keep a cool head for you. It wouldn't do you any good to see him breaking down. But, honestly he's about to lose his shit at any moment.

Seeing you in so much pain, both emotionally and physically, has your husband reeling. Your Coryo can't handle seeing you in agony knowing that he can't make it better for you.

You barely hear him hang up the phone and tell you that the doctor says that there's nothing he can do; that you're on your own. You're too busy crying your eyes out as you bleed, cramp, and feel the most painful you've ever felt in your entire life.

The president screams for help, only for the maid from earlier and another one to come in. They assure President Snow that a nearby guestroom is prepared for you and that they'll help you during your trying and traumatic time. Your husband thanks the maids and picks you up bridal style, only to follow the women to the guestroom.

Coryo's by your side the entire time you experience your miscarriage. The maids help you, of course, and they're a big help in your survival. But it's your husband holding your hand and smoothing back your hair while begging you not to leave him like his mother did that gives you the strength you needed to get thru the worst of the miscarriage.

With Coryo by your side you can get thru anything, can weather any storm.

And after seeing the horror of your 6 month term miscarriage, well, Coriolanus Snow quickly changed his firm anti-adoption mindset. Adopting a baby's much safer than risking his soulmate dying in the birthing bed along with his unborn child. The death of his mother was very traumatic and your miscarriage with his first born son had reopened those old, never fully healed wounds ten fold.

A month after your miscarriage you have a check up with your doctor. The specialist apologized for your loss and claims that there must've been an abnormally that wasn't caught on any testing performed. But then the specialist says that in another 3 months you and your husband can always start trying again- except this time with high dose hormone shots for you and male pre-conception vitamin supplements for him that would boost the vitality of his seed.

Before you could even think, President Coriolanus Snow shot down the doctor's idea. The cold as ice look the president gave your doctor was enough to have the doctor shaking in his shoes and praying for his life. Before ending the appointment the doctor left you and your husband with some pamphlets about grief, rainbow babies, and adoption.

Coriolanus left the first two pamphlets on the small counter in the examination room, but he took the one about adoption. He gave it to you, because as much as he wanted his own child with you he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to become a mother.

One week before the games were due to start President Snow got a call from the Capitol run adoption center. The woman in charge said that they had received a newborn baby boy with blonde hair and blue eyes (as he has requested) from District 12- of all places. The adoption director explained how the newborn was given up by the biological parents because the father had enlisted as a peacekeeper and the mother couldn't handle the pressure of being an unwed teen mother.

Of course, Coriolanus told the director that he'd be by with you at once. To start on the paperwork for the adoption; that you'd sign it when you arrive.

And when your husband rushed to the rose garden, where you spent a lot of your time thinking and healing spiritually, he smiled. “I got a call from the adoption center, they've got a newborn baby boy for us, darling.”

“Really? We're going to have a baby?” You ask in disbelief, your eyes welling up with unshed tears of joy.

“Yes, my love.” Coryo nodded, cupping your face in his large hands and using his thumbs to brush away the happy years that began to fall from your eyes. Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “We're going to go pick him up and bring him home.”

Crassus Javanis Snow, named after both of your fathers, was a very cute and happy baby. He was the sweetest thing. He truly looked worthy of the Snow name with his light blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was both the love and light of your life and Coryo's life.

But President Snow became very protective, possessive, cold, and even downright cruel towards other people when it came to you and your son. Nobody could say a word about how the Snow heir was adopted or how you were a useless wife by Old Guard Capitol standards, not unless they had a death wish.

Your husband did push for better women's reproductive health and reform. And when he signed the bill into law he had the proudest smile on his face.

Of course the bill was only for Capitolite women; it didn't hold up for women in the Districts. But he didn't care. You're a Capitolite woman and whoever your son married will be a Capitolite girl as well.

So…

But as long as Capitolite women are healthy, fertile, and happy that's all that matters to President Snow.

And when your son's getting ready for kindergarten at the Academy you get the surprise of your life when you turn up pregnant, after so many years of nothing; after you and Coryo stopped trying, with your daughter.

A baby girl that you'd name Demeter Rose, in honor of Coryo's late mother and grandmother.

But one day, when both of your children are middle-aged with children of their own, during the 74th Hunger Games, your eyes widen when you see the tribute from District 12: a broad and tall boy with blonde hair and blue eyes that looks strikingly like your son did as a teenager.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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tmmyhug · 7 months

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rant incoming abt something i’ve observed for a while

i (american) feel like we need better traditions. so many young and queer people in my experience are completely disillusioned with most of our (western) holidays either because they’re related to religion and that’s awkward for many people or because they’ve become Capitalism Lite or both. it’s hard to really enjoy a holiday when it’s overshadowed by the uncomfortable truths behind all of it.

like, christmas is nice because you get time off but it’s a constant reminder that we live in an extremely christian society that chafes at even the idea of other religions trying to exist (happy holidays vs merry christmas drama). non-christian religious holidays get like zero acknowledgement from wider society. no time off work or school, no decor in stores, etc. thanksgiving is nice bc you get to eat good food, but it’s based on colonial bs. valentine’s day is nice in theory but also an inescapable reminder that our society sees you as sad and lonely if you’re not in a relationship and if you’re not willing to spend lots of money on a partner. then theres smaller ones like labor day which is important but hard to enjoy when you’re reminded of how hard we have to fight for even an inch of appreciation or rest for workers in the us. most of the other minor holidays are subsumed by neverending consumerism and advertisement, such as mothers/father’s day.

and tell me if i’m just projecting here. but there are so few actual holidays that we can enjoy that i think it accelerates the homogenization of the seasons w global warming and the isolation and lack of community everyone is struggling with.

this is part of my theory as to why halloween is so incredibly popular with gen z - it’s doesn’t come with religious or historical baggage, doesn’t force people to spend time with families they don’t like or shame people for not fitting into nuclear family structures, isn’t based largely around buying gifts/spending money, and is an important marker in the season of fall. also this is part of why i think we latch on to stupid little anniversaries ie. neil banging out the tunes. it’s lighthearted and silly and is a grounding landmark for the passage of time and it brings us together to have fun.

all this to say we should really promote more holidays that are just. for fun. or for the passage of time. summer solstice. moon landing day. new years does fall into this category. pi day. star wars day. april fools. i really feel like we should be emphasizing and celebrating these unofficial holidays!! bringing people together and hanging out w friends or going out somewhere specific or making specific foods or something. just a regular tradition that we can rely on. yk? it’s so important

#hopefully this makes sense #vees train of thought

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sluttywoozi · 2 years

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hello, I came running once I saw you were taking requests 😌 I just feel like joshua would be so extremely Down Bad for his partner. like even when they're YEARS into like, marriage - if they're going to a party and his partner is dressed up? man's weak in the knees istg 🥺

I love your style of writing so I would honestly be v v happy if you wrote this 😊❤️

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: alcohol mention, horny and in love husband!joshua; swearing; kissing; dirty thoughts; spanking mention

Reader Notes: no specified pronouns or gendered terms; wears a dress, makeup, heels, lingerie; has breasts and a vagina

Playlist: Late To The Party by Kacey Musgraves and LOVE U by Monsta X

“Babe, are you almost ready?” Joshua hears you call from the bedroom. He’s still messing with his hair and you’ve been struggling to pick out your shoes for the last half hour, and he just knows there’s no way you’re getting to the party on time.

“Yeah, honey, I just can’t get this one piece to lay right,” Joshua says, frustration evident in his voice. Your slippers slap on the hardwood as you make your way to the bathroom, coming to stand in front of him and lifting your hand to fix his hair. He stays still, just admiring you.

You have the cutest look of concentration on your face, your fingers gentle and careful not to pull.

You’re in full makeup, your hair done up flawlessly, and your silk dressing robe is tied loosely, draping over your breasts in a way that has Joshua nearly drooling. Your lip is trapped between your teeth and he wants to bite it with his, but there’s no time.

Fuck it, he thinks, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you closer, his other hand catching your hip to press you into his body. Dipping his head to kiss along your neck, he whispers into your skin, “What if we just … didn't go?”

You sigh in exasperation but wind your arms around his neck and sink one hand into the back of his hair, “Josh, we have to go. We skipped the last one, remember?”

Joshua groans into your collarbone, letting his body sag against you, “I just don’t feel like sharing you with anyone else tonight.”

Predictably, you melt into him, your nails scratching against his scalp and sending a shiver down his spine. He starts swaying you, pulling out all the tricks he knows to make you want to skip the party.

“Babe, it’s Seungcheol’s birthday. He‘ll already be sulking about us being late. If we miss it altogether, he’ll skip our anniversary dinner out of spite and you know it.”

Joshua sighs, reluctantly releasing you because he does know Seungcheol, and he knows that the man is very specific about his expectations for birthday celebrations.

He shifts his eyes to the ceiling, trying to find the will to leave the house, and reminds himself that Seungcheol is one of his best friends. He can beg you to stay in with him almost any other night, tonight is important and Joshua knows you both should be there.

So, with a nod, he turns back to the mirror to finish his hair and you exit the bathroom to make a footwear decision. He can hear you talking to yourself, smiles at his own reflection in pure fondness for you. He’s always loved your little habits, they just make him feel… safe and happy.

When Joshua married you, everyone joked that the small things he loves about you would become small things he hates about you, but he knows that could never happen. He fell in love with you over the little things, the way you think out loud, the way you fold your laundry, the way you hand out random compliments, the way you smile at everyone on the street, the way you ask how someone is and actually care about the answer.

He loves your absentminded singing, the fingers you trail over his back whenever you pass him, the little sticky note reminders he finds everywhere, the love notes you pack into his lunch box.

Joshua loves everything about you, and somehow he knows he always will.

And when he says everything, he means everything.

Even after (almost) five years of marriage, Joshua is still obsessed with you.

You’re the sexiest person he’s ever seen, and he honestly can’t believe he got you to tie yourself to him forever. Whenever he sees his ring on your finger, or watches you sign a check with your first name and his last, his heart flutters and heat floods his stomach, and he has to think unpleasant thoughts to calm himself down.

It usually works, but it’s not right now, definitely doesn’t when you meander into the bathroom to pick out your earrings, clothed in your favorite dress. And fuck if it isn’t Joshua’s favorite dress, too.

How could it not be, with the way it drapes over your body, the way the color stands out against your skin, and the smile you always wear with it?

The memories attached only make him love it more; he’s taken it off of you hundreds of times, in a dozen different ways, and he’s almost desperate to strip you of it now.

The sultry look in your eyes tells Joshua you know this, and you know it’ll be the only thing on his mind the whole night.

As he’s laughing with his friends, he’ll be thinking about sliding the dress up your body slowly, mapping your curves with his hands. As he’s mixing drinks for the table, he’ll be imagining what your face would look like if he tore it off of you. As he’s toasting Seungcheol and trying to give a heartfelt speech, he’ll be picturing the lingerie he knows you’re wearing.

You have a lot of options, a whole drawer full, and Joshua will have no choice but to go through every possibility in his mind, just because he’s a thorough person.

He already knows he’s fucked, knows he’ll be fighting for his life tonight, trying to keep from getting hard in front of literally everyone he knows, and your smirk says you know this as well.

It is so evil, so diabolical of you, to do this to him when you know he barely has the will to go to the party at all.

But it’s also really sexy, so fucking hot that you tease him like this, that you know what works him up, what sends all the blood in his body down to his cock.

That’s what’s happening now as he watches you with hooded eyes, following your form as you lean in closer to the mirror and brace your hand on the vanity to carefully apply your lip gloss.

Fuck, you could have done this literally anywhere else. You don’t even need a mirror, he knows you can swipe it on with your eyes closed.

You came in here just to torture him.

Joshua wonders what your plan is, if you’re trying to get him to rip the dress off of you and fuck you right now on the tile, or if you want him to pull you into the bathroom at Seungcheol’s and bend you over the vanity, or if you’re hoping he’ll punish you after the party, make the skin of your perfect ass swell in the shape of his hands.

He’s honestly willing to do all three, and he knows the sight of you in this dress will be enough to get him hard time and time (and time) again tonight.

Joshua startles at the closing of a door, looking around the bathroom to find it empty.

Fuck, when did you even leave? Was he that distracted?

He can hear your heels clicking, your pace quick as you gather up everything you need to bring to the party. Joshua knows he should probably help you, but as it is, he’s not sure he can move.

His knees feel a bit weak after contemplating your possible plans, and his dick is throbbing in his slacks, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper. You call out, asking if he’s ready to leave yet, and Joshua mentally curses you, curses your nefarious heart and delicious body, then feels awful immediately, apologizing in his mind and willing his legs to move and his dick to soften.

Joshua’s almost successful, the print of his hard cock barely noticeable, his legs back online, when you add on, “I’ll suck your dick in the car if we leave in the next five minutes and you tell Cheol that we’ll be late.”

He runs.

Part 2

My Masterlist

#seventeen smut #svt smut #svthub #joshua x you #joshua x reader #✨emily answers✨#✨emily writes✨#thank you for requesting!!#had half of this in the drafts for like a month #and this was the perfect request to get me to finish it #so double thank you #kaili 🪢#seventeen series #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #husband!joshua

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fernlessbastard · 2 months

Note

okk love your blog, so I rlly wanted to send an ask even if its nothing too especific ;-;

soo, since u like tntduo (like me :]) whats your favorite hc for their relationship? I love hearing about hc's, and since your art its so cute, u probs have some cool hc's

Thank youuuuu I appreciate it so much, and by all means flood me with asks! Asks are great, I love asks, be it random thoughts, art ideas, opinions, etc etc, asks are always welcome (unless they're from the 🥝 anon 🙄🙄🙄 /j/loving)

And a favourite headcanon? Hm, i don't know, hard to say. I have multiple headcanons, idk if I favour any in particular

There's one where after revival Wilbur's body is kinda fucked up in the nerves and blood vessels department, so he has some trouble with kinda controlling it, which particularly expresses itself in his hands being unsteady. They're so unsteady, that the first time he picks up a guitar again he can't play right. He blows up over it and has a breakdown, and vows to never play again. He still ends up trying a couple times, but each time he just immediately gets pissed off and upset, and tosses it away. It really breaks him. At some point he's at Quackity's place, and he sees a guitar. He looks at it for a while, but doesn't say anything, of which Quackity makes note. Next time they meet up Wilbur shits on Quackity for not having touched it recently, so Quackity takes it as a challenge. Once the music starts, Wil goes quiet. He's sitting to the side of Q, slightly behind him, and after a while for just a moment he leans against his upper back, and closes his eyes, simply l taking the moment in. This situation repeats, a couple times, and each time Wilbur lets himself relax a bit longer. He starts playing with Quackity's hair as he listens, and one time he l begins trying to braid it. His hands are shaking, he's struggling to divide the thick hair into even parts, he's having trouble keeping the braid even, but what's crucial is that he does it. Next time it repeats. And next time too. And the next, and eventually the braids start to look actually pretty decent. Time passes, they meet up more often, and eventually comes a day when Wilbur takes the guitar. No words are exchanged. No ridicule, but no praise either - no verbal acknowledgement. Instead Quackity just sits slightly behind him, and begins gently braiding his hair. The notes are wonky and don't always sound quite right, and the rhythm is messy, and strumming only goes well sometimes, but he's playing...

Quackity kisses Wilbur's head, right above the new braid. He leans in, partially hugging him, as the other's playing. It's been a bit over a year since he started playing again, and the difference is big. Neither knows if he'll ever fully regain the control and steadiness of his hands, but he manages to keep the rhythm, and the notes now ring out clear a big majority of the time. He plays quicker songs too, now; sometimes they both sing, and laugh when they mix something up. Quackity smiles, closing his eyes as Wilbur once again butchers a random song by changing up the words completely to make it as on the nose as humanly possible. He begins to wonder what they should eat tomorrow for their anniversary breakfast.

#it ties into another hc where I'd say they don't really focus on things like valentine's day or anniversary etc #they obviously still celebrate but they just do it however they want and don't care about whether it's “grand enough”#Quackity's had more than enough relationships where those specific dates would be all there was to the relationship #so instead they just focus on showing each other love on the daily and celebrating however they want whenever they want #but that's more loose cause again they still love celebrating but it's just not performative the way it was in Q's previous relationships #ask #asks #ask fern #tntduo #dsmp #tnt duo #wilbur soot #quackity #quackbur #dream smp #tntblr #writing #fernless writing #c!tnt duo #c!tntduo #c!wilbur #c!quackity #c!quackbur #c!wilbur soot #fernless bastard #hurt/comfort #quackbur headcanons

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hungermakesmonsters · 9 days

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Seven

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour, some of it gets a little rough. Some mention of an emotionally abusive parent, and readers problematic views of her own autonomy. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 4.5k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

MASTER LIST

Chapter Seven

“Are you alright?” Karen asked, pulling your attention from your pancakes. “You’ve been really quiet.”

Your cheeks warmed and you immediately felt bad; she’d shown up early to go to breakfast with you before taking you to the Met, and all you’d been able to think about was the Homeland agent who’d approached you the night before.

“I’m fine,” you answered, forcing a smile. “Just tired. We were out late last night.”

“Billy took you out?” She seemed surprised.

“He took me dress shopping,” you explained, reaching for your coffee. “He’s throwing a party next month and he wanted me to have a new dress.”

“Oh, his Vampire Night party,” Karen nodded and you shot her a confused look. “He does it every year, it’s to celebrate the anniversary vampire’s being accepted into society. It’s supposed to be a big deal but, for Billy, it’s just an excuse to throw a crazy party every year.”

“Does he normally invite the person who’s...” you struggled for a moment, not wanting to out-and-out state what you did in the busy little diner, “working for him when he throws parties?”

“Usually - I mean, it’d be pretty shitty to throw a party in the penthouse and not invite the other person living there.”

“So, the others, they all went to his parties and they enjoyed themselves?”

“Yeah, if there’s one thing Billy knows, it’s how to throw a good party,” she answered, fixing you with a look, as if she could sense there was more you wanted to ask. “Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. “It just seemed like such an easy job and, I guess, I just don’t understand why anyone would do anything to ruin it for themselves. Do you know what happened to them once they left?”

You needed something, some sort of sign, to tell you that you weren’t wrong, that you were safe with Billy. And, if you weren’t...

Well, in that case, you needed to find a way out that didn’t involve going home with your tail between your legs.

“As far as I know, they all went back to their lives. Though there was one...” Karen trailed off, the thought alone making her wince. You shot her a questioning look, silently begging her to continue. “Not the last one, but the one before, she had to be removed by building security. She tried to come back a couple of times but she eventually got the hint.”

The one before the last one - so, one of the last three, one of the ones Madani thought was dead. She’d been fine when she left and she’d been seen a couple of times since. So, that meant that Homeland was wrong about Billy, right?

With your mind set at ease, you happily finished breakfast and, before you knew it, you and Karen were stepping into the Met. You felt like a kid at Christmas. It was everything you’d imagined and more. Karen could barely hold back her amusement as you moved from exhibit to exhibit, never seeming to lose any of your initial excitement. It was something you’d always wanted to do, filled with things you’d always wanted to see.

By lunch time, poor Karen needed to sit down, and you needed a coffee so you ended up in the cafe. When Karen headed to the bathroom, you looked over the map, making a mental note of what you’ve seen and what you still wanted to see. Distracted, you didn’t notice the figure beside you until she’d taken a seat. The Homeland agent, Madani.

“Are you following me?” You demanded, keeping your voice low.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Madani answered, ignoring your sharp tone. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed last night?”

“Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m pretty sure Billy hasn’t done anything wrong.”

She fumbled with her pocket, quickly pulling out her phone and showing it to you. “These are the three missing women; Layla El-Faouly, Krista Dumont and Mary Poots.” With each name she moved to a different photo, letting you see each of the missing women. “Has he mentioned any of those names?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Have you seen anything in his penthouse that might belong to them?” You shook your head, quickly feeling overwhelmed by all of the questions.

“No, and anyway, you said the last three women, right?” You asked and Madani nodded. “People have seen one of them since. She even got thrown out of Billy's building a couple of times.”

“You're sure of that?”

“Yes,” frustration slipping into your tone. “Whatever you're looking for, it's not -”

“Has Russo done anything to hurt you? Is he forcing you into a sexual relationship or have you felt like you’re being controlled?”

“What? No.”

“You might not even realise that he’s doing it. Some vampires are very good at controlling their victims, Russo is -”

“He’s not controlling me,” you told her as firmly as you could, glancing around, hoping to spot Karen. “Can you please leave me alone? I don’t want to lose my job because of this.”

“I can protect you -”

“I don’t need protection, I need this job,” you told her. “Please, I wasn’t kidnapped, he hasn’t hurt me, and I know he hasn’t hurt anyone else. Can you please just leave me alone before you cause any trouble?”

“Okay, I’ll go,” Madani relented, “but I’ll be close by if you need me.”

You muttered that you wouldn’t as she stood and left, just in time for Karen to return.

“Who was that?”

“She was asking me for directions,” you lied, as you stood, not wanting to think about anything Madani had said to you.

It was all crazy, ridiculous. You weren’t being coerced or controlled and you still didn’t believe Billy was capable of hurting anyone. Fortunately, there were plenty of exhibits left to distract you for the rest of the day.

By the time you returned to the penthouse it was getting late. You rushed to draw blood and to throw some pasta onto the stove. When you were done, you found Billy on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the view of the city until he heard you approach.

He smiled and you felt butterflies, and there was a spring in your step as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass for his blood before joining him on the sofa.

“You look nice.” His eyes trailing down your body.

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and the skirt-blouse combination, “Karen took me to the Met. We got back late. I haven’t had time to change yet.”

“I’m glad,” Billy said, taking the glass from your hand, “I love your legs.”

Your cheeks warmed and you bit your lip. As much as Billy liked to pay you compliments, you still weren’t used to it. Honestly, you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it, especially when Billy managed to make every compliment sound simultaneously sweet and filthy.

“I got you something,” he said a moment later, motioning to a large paper bag on the floor in front of him. Cautiously, you pulled it towards you and pulled out a large yellow, faux-fur blanket. “You can leave it out here for when we watch TV together.”

Butterflies filled your stomach at the gesture, but there was one thought you couldn’t quite shake; “it’s yellow.”

And yellow didn’t exactly match the dark and minimalist decor in the penthouse.

“It made me think of you when I saw it,” Billy shrugged.

The butterflies in your stomach seemed to multiply; it was a warm and happy colour, it was the colour of sunlight, and it had made Billy think of you.

Hugging the blanket to your chest you thanked him before carefully placing it back in the bag.

“I’ve got some time before I need to leave for work, if you want to hang out?” He asked as if he needed to, as if he thought there was any chance that you wouldn’t want to stay there with him.

As he drank, you told him about your day and every little thing you’d seen in the Met. And he listened. It seemed like he was actually listening, hanging on your every word, like he cared, like he wasn’t just indulging you and letting you run your mouth.

“Maybe next time I could take you?” He offered. “They do night openings a few times a month.”

“I’d love that,” you answered without a moment's hesitation.

“Really?”

“Of course. I like spending time with you.”

He finished his drink and quickly put the glass down, licking his lips as he turned himself towards you.

“You like spending time with me?” He repeated.

You couldn’t tell if he was amused or confused. “Yeah, you’re... different to the sort of people I’m used to being around. I like talking to you.”

“Just talking to me?” He asked, a smirk starting to tug at his lips. You felt your face start to heat again as your gaze dropped to your lap. “Still so shy, so easy to embarrass,” he muttered, placing a hand on your bare knee, “but I bet you’re already wet under this little skirt.”

Your breath caught and your thighs clenched together at the realisation that he was right.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look until you realised he was moving. You watched, confused as he slipped onto the floor, his hands on your knees, urging your legs apart so he could sit between them. It wasn’t until he started to slowly kiss your thigh that you realised what he was going to do. Your heart started to race, and Billy noticed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his cold fingers tracing soothing patterns on your leg.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’ve just... I’ve never...”

“It’s okay, hummingbird,” Billy reassured you, smiling softly. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

While you managed not to show it, those words almost broke you. He always seemed to care about you, about making sure you felt good, and that wasn’t something you were ever sure you’d get used to.

Your cheeks burned hotter when he reached beneath your skirt and eased your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. He pulled you towards him, lifting your legs over his shoulder while continuing to trail kisses up your thighs. Up and up and up, until -

“Remember the rules,” he told you, gazing up at you from between your thighs, “and breathe.”

Until he mentioned it, you hadn’t even realised that you were holding your breath. With a nod, you let out a slow breath, trying to steel yourself for this new experience. His cold fingers gently parted your folds and a shiver ran down your spine. You bit your lip, keeping your eyes focused on him until you finally felt it. His tongue slipped through your arousal, delicately at first and then with a little more pressure. You back arched and your hips pressed forwards, and you could have swore you felt Billy’s lips pull into a smirk against you.

He alternated between long, slow laps of his tongue and faster flicks, obviously taking note of your reactions. One moment he was focused on your clit, the next, you felt the tip of his tongue against your entrance. Your body shuddered, completely overwhelmed, and you almost lost your mind when you heard Billy groan.

“Billy -” you gasped, knowing that you weren’t going to last long.

“Not yet,” he almost-growled from between your thighs.

Before you could even think to beg, his tongue was against you again. Your fingers slipped into his hair, needing something to hold on to as your thighs started to tremble. It felt like you were being devoured by his mouth, his lips and his greedy tongue making you feel sensations you’d never felt before. Soon enough, it felt like his grip on your thighs was the only thing keeping you from crushing his head - it was too much and not enough all at once, you desperately wanted the release of an orgasm but you didn’t ever want him to stop.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck...” you whimpered, barely holding back. “Billy, please...”

It almost seemed cruel when you felt his lips on your throbbing clit, gently sucking. Your back arched again, trying to press yourself closer but his strong grip kept you in place.

Your fingers tugged on his hair, twisting and pulling, earning another groan from Billy. Every muscle tensed and you felt like a spring coiled too tight, like you could snap at any moment. And, thankfully, Billy seemed to realise that.

“Okay, hummingbird, you can come,” he muttered, barely pulling his lips away from you.

One more flick of his tongue and you were done for, crying out as you came undone. All the while his tongue kept moving, lapping the wetness that spilled from you, and not pulling back until your thighs were violently shaking.

While you struggled to catch your breath, Billy lowered your legs and rested his chin on your thigh, grinning up at you.

“What are you smirking at?” You managed to ask, fighting back a smile of your own.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks starting to warm again. “I think the situation called for it.”

That got a laugh from Billy.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said before getting himself off the floor and sitting beside you again. “Did you enjoy it?”

Of course, you couldn’t answer. Once he’d asked the question you couldn’t even look at him. All you could do was give the slightest little nod, suddenly acutely aware that your panties had ended up on the floor in front of the TV and, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes from them.

That is, until Billy placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. For a few seconds he simply looked at you, almost seeming confused, before smiling again.

“What is it about you?” He asked quietly, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. “Why can’t I get enough?”

Before you could answer, he’d closed the distance between you, kissing you and sending you into a tailspin. How could he keep saying things like that, how could he keep making you feel so special, when he seemed so reluctant to - god, you didn’t even know. You still didn’t understand how this casual thing was supposed to work. The time you spent together left you feeling like there was something, a connection between you, but that wasn’t what you’d agreed to. It was just supposed to be fun.

But, surely casual fun was supposed to lead to sex, right?

“That’s not what I want to see when I kiss you,” he remarked, pulling back a little, leaving you even more confused until he clarified; “you’re frowning.”

“I was just...” you fell into silence for a moment, not sure how to say it. “Do you want me, Billy?”

“Do I want you?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I mean like -”

“Oh, hummingbird, I know exactly what you mean,” he almost laughed, his hand still on your cheek. “I’m just not sure how you can ask me that after I’ve just been on my knees worshipping you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, you kissed him, tasting the lingering traces of your arousal on his lips and tongue. You pressed closer and closer, until you felt an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he muttered against your lips.

“You’re not,” you answered breathlessly, sinking back into his lips..

He pulled you closer, positioning you so you could feel the bulge of his erection against you. The feeling alone was enough to cause your hips to shudder and buck, still feeling sensitive from his tongue. Billy groaned, his lips pulling from yours and finding your neck. You barely noticed the buttons of your blouse being undone until he started to push it off your shoulders.

Trembling fingers started to pull open his shirt, hands exploring every inch of cold skin that you revealed, feeling the raised lines of scars beneath your touch. Billy squirmed when your hand trailed over his shoulder, his body pressing up against yours.

Your heart raced faster when you felt him unclasp your bra. You barely had time to finish removing it before his lips were on your breasts, kissing, licking and sucking. Every cold touch sent a jolt of pleasure right to your core and, before you knew it, you were gently rocking your hips against him.

“Billy,” you gasped as his lips closed over your nipple.

Desperately, you dropped your hands to his waist, fumbling with his belt then, when that was open you started on the fastenings of his pants.

A yelp escaped you when you felt his teeth on your nipple, not biting hard enough to break skin but more than enough to give you a shock. An eager growl sounded in the back of his throat as he moved to your other nipple. But his sudden roughness wasn’t enough to stop you.

Despite his cold touch roaming your body, you felt hot, like you were on fire. Every deep breath you took was him; his cologne, his clean shirt, the products in his hair. You were intoxicated, drunk on Billy Russo. His fingertips pressed into your hips with a bruising force, but all you cared about was getting his zipper down and letting him possess you completely.

“My little hummingbird,” he muttered in that low, dangerous tone as his lips moved back to yours. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He kissed you again, groaning into your mouth with an unbridled want that seemed to match your own. The words didn’t shock you like they perhaps should have, they didn’t worry you at all. You trusted him to stay in control.

Clumsy fingers tugged at his zipper and -

“Shit!” You yelped as the zipper nicked your skin, pulling back from him, lifting your finger to your lips.

Billy’s whole body went rigid beneath you, eyes narrowing, dropping to the finger between your lips.

“It’s alright, I just -” you started and stopped just as quickly, looking at the small bleeding cut before looking at Billy.

His eyes seemed to get darker and you watched his throat bob uncomfortable as he tried to swallow. You squirmed as his grip tightened on your hips, holding you in place. The tiny cut bleeding in a way that only tiny cuts could.

“Billy...” you muttered softly, trying to soothe the monster inside of him.

Gingerly, you reached for him, tenderly running your fingers through his hair while you returned your bleeding finger to your mouth, trying to remove temptation.

His jaw tensed before he lunged forwards, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, desperately seeking your finger and the tiniest drop of blood. You tried to push his face away, your hand on his jaw, your finger ending up between his lips.

“Billy, stop,” you pleaded, “please.”

Suddenly you found yourself hitting the floor as he stood and moved away from you. It took you a second or so to get over the initial shock before you grabbed your blouse and covered yourself. By the time you got to your feet, Billy was halfway to the elevator, buttoning his shirt as he went.

“I’m sorry.” The words left you in a desperate and broken tone, not knowing what you could possibly say to fix the situation or stop him from leaving.

Billy froze, taking an uncomfortable breath before turning back to you, confusion written all over his face. His eyes moved from you to the elevator and back again, weighing his options.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, a crack in his voice that made your heart ache. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I was clumsy, and I pushed you, and I -” you sniffled, blinking as your eyes threatened tears.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told you, voice firm and certain, “that’s not what happened.”

“Then why are you leaving me?”

Billy was at a loss, staring as you tried not to break down in front of him. Your mind was racing over everything that had happened, over everything that you had done wrong - all the things that Billy seemed to want to ignore. You’d always been clumsy, never careful enough. Your mother had always chastised you, telling you that you only did it for attention, telling you that you were needy, criticising you for always wanting to be the centre of attention.

It was easy to spiral into those negative thoughts, to see all your faults and failings, to feel broken and unloveable.

He stepped towards you, confusion softening into something more like concern.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated, “I did. I almost lost control, I could’ve -”

“I shouldn’t’ve complained, I -”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to jolt you from your self-loathing. “I told you that you always have a choice here. Always. No one gets to hurt you, and you never have to go along with anything that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

On some level you did, you understood completely, you knew that he was right, but years of being made to feel like you were the problem were hard to overcome.

Reluctantly, he closed the distance between you, his hand finding your cheek, urging you to look at him.

“How you feel matters, hummingbird. What you want matters,” he told you. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s me, I - there’s something wrong with me, something I can’t always control, and you deserve better than that. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not a hundred percent certain about. I never want you to regret anything that we do together.”

It felt like your throat was closing up and your vision started to blur, it wasn’t until the first sob shook your body that you realised you were crying. The idea that you had a choice, that you got to decide what you wanted, and that your feelings mattered - no one had let you have that before. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his chest.

“No one gets to hurt you,” he told you again. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Even from himself, though the words went unsaid.

He shushed you as you whimpered the word sorry again and held you tighter when you hid your face against his shoulder. Minutes passed, and Billy held you, not moving, not pulling away. Eventually you stilled, your breathing slowing and the sobs subsiding. But, still, Billy didn’t move. His hold on you didn’t loosen until you slowly pulled back.

Your head instantly dropped, the back of your hand trying to scrub the tear stains from your cheeks. One of his hands remained on you, resting gently on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” you finally admitted.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you?”

The question hung awkwardly in the air between you, neither one of you wanting to answer it. It was more than obvious now that you both had baggage, you both had parts of yourself that you were desperate to keep hidden, but it was also becoming clear that you weren’t going to be able to hide forever.

“I think we’ll have to eventually,” Billy told you.

As much as you hated it, you knew he was right.

Silence lingered for a few seconds before you quietly confessed; “I feel safe with you.”

It felt important to tell him that, like everything else could come after. Despite his little lapses in control, you trusted him. He looked like he wanted to ask how you could feel that way after everything but, at the same time, it was clear that he didn’t want to know.

“Are you... okay?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“It’s complicated,” he said and, for a second, it seemed like he was going to leave it at that. “I just - when you’re a vampire, everything is so loud. Everything feels like it’s too much. It makes you want so much. Sometimes I feel like I can’t control it.”

You stomach knotted as you watched him struggle, the jagged edge to his tone furthering something he’d already let slip days ago; he didn’t want to be like that. He didn’t want to be a vampire.

“I feel like that too, sometimes,” you offered softly. “Not exactly the same but - my mom always used to tell me that no one likes emotional women. Whenever I’d get upset, she’d tell me I was being hysterical or call me an attention seeker. So I started holding it all in. I wouldn’t complain or get upset, I’d just pretend I was fine, and it made me feel like I was going to burst...”

Without warning, he pulled you into another hug, and you let him, your face pressing back into the damp spot you’d left on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sounding almost guilty, like he thought he was somehow to blame. “You don’t have to hold it in with me, you don’t have to pretend or go along with anything that you don’t want.”

“I do want this though,” you confessed, stopping short of telling Billy that you wanted him, that you were starting to feel something for him. It had only been a few weeks but, already, you felt a connection to him, something you didn’t want to give up.

He seemed torn, almost like he wanted to cut his losses and end things now, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the rest of the year if you had to go back to how things had been at the start. That is, if he even wanted to keep you around. Technically, because of him, you’d broken your contract.

“You need to promise me something; if you’re ever not comfortable, you’ll tell me to stop, and if I ever scare you, you’ll tell me,” he told you in a firm and uncompromising tone.

“I promise, but -” you hesitated, not sure if he’d appreciate your condition, “- but you have to tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

Billy nodded and you sank forward into his arms again, holding him tight for a little while longer until he finally had to get ready and leave for work. And, of course, you felt terrible that he had to go and change out of his crease, tear-stained shirt before he went. He left with the promise of spending time with you tomorrow.

CHAPTER EIGHT

End Note : The Marvel name drops are mostly just easter eggs (and because I HATE coming up with names for side characters. I feel like a lot went on in this chapter but I don't actually have a lot to say about it. I'm just slowly piling on the mystery and angst.

Anyway! Thanks for reading! I've really loved all your comments and questions on this series. Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #(ob)ts ff #billy russo imagine

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eoieopda · 7 months

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problem | myg

pairing: min yoongi x darksided!reader summary: yoongi’s got a problem, and she’s dressed like elvira hancock. type: drabble, suggestive fluff (?) au: darksided; halloween; established relationship rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) word count: 1k cw: yoongi’s on his tony montana, more money/more problem shit shit; afab!reader dressed as female character (elvira hancock); no smut but definitely suggestive thoughts/statements; kissin’, gropin’, nibblin’. a/n: happy halloween! i didn’t plan this, lmao. this is partly to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the darksided series. you don’t need to have read the series to read this drabble, but context is fun 😌

For the past eight years, Halloween has been spent on the couch, eating candy straight out of a party-sized bag and watching movies. A low-key holiday for low-key people, both of whom prefer going to bed at a reasonable hour over getting stupid into the wee hours of the morning.

It’s been your favorite holiday for the better part of a decade for that reason — the lack of pressure and commotion, as well as the guarantee of quality time spent in the comfort of sweatpants. It’s nice, doing fuck all with the person you love doing nothing and everything with. Nobody has ever caught you complaining; and they never will.

This year, to your shock and awe, Yoongi bucked your expectations for the millionth consecutive time. Not only did he RSVP “yes” to a Halloween party, he decided that you would both attend in costume.

Apparently, one of the multitudes he contains kind of likes the idea of coordinating outfits with you.

You damn near fell over when he brought his idea to you in the first place; but now that he’s kneeling in front of you, dressed in a white suit and a torturously unbuttoned red button-up, you’re struggling to stay upright for an entirely different reason.

“Left foot,” he murmurs, gesturing to one of the legs you have dangling off the edge of the bed.

You oblige, resting your bare foot on his thigh. Silently, you watch while he slips your heel onto your foot, lips pursed in concentration as he deals with the tiny buckle on the ankle strap.

It shouldn’t fuck you up to see his fingers moving deftly, doing something this mundane, but it does.

Makes you want to blow off this party and spend the night with those hands instead.

God.

Those hands.

Their gentle grip on your ankle, the glint of his rings in the lamplight, the slender length of —

“Jagiya.”

Yoongi is smiling slightly when his words nudge you back to reality with a jolt. If that smirk tells you anything, it’s that he’s called out to you at least once before. All you do is squeak in response; your brain is a bit too scrambled to think of better.

And he knows it, too.

Bastard.

Slowly, he shifts your heel off his thigh. To emphasize his instruction, he taps your right ankle lightly. “Right foot, jagi.”

You’re boneless but acquiesce, nonetheless.

Then, he has the audacity to say, “Good girl,” with his fingertips brushing softly over your bare skin, and you may as well black the fuck out. No part of the moments that follow registers in your mind; you may as well have lost it.

When Yoongi demands your attention the second time, he doesn’t bother with pet names. He leans slightly forward to where the high slit of your dress leaves a knee exposed, presses a kiss to the piece of you on display, and keeps his lips there just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

“All set,” he says innocently, as if there’s anything angelic about the way he’s looking at you.

Dark eyes match the dark hair he’s pushed back off his forehead, and there’s a wickedness to them that you’ve never successfully ignored — not once in eight years.

“Ready to go?”

You make some unintelligible noise in response that you can’t parse yourself. Just like always, Yoongi manages to find the meaning you’re unable to locate; and he pushes himself to his feet. Two hands extend to help you do the same, and — just like always — you take them, no hesitation.

When you stand on unsteady legs, teal silk slips down the length of you and falls back into place with a flourish, fanning out at your ankles. Yoongi pauses, drinks in the sight of you like he’s drowning. He hums appreciatively to himself before reaching up to brush synthetic, blonde hair off your cheek.

“We’re running late,” he eventually notes.

Neither of you makes a single move towards the door. It’s only his arm that moves, hand dropping from your face to skim over the fabric covering your waist, hugging the curve of it. You shiver, although it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with the way your dress is cut.

“Michelle Pfeiffer’s got nothing on you.”

You swallow hard, going tense all over.

An hour passes in a second.

“Have I told you that I love this dress?”

You’re crawling out of your skin, vibrating on a frequency only Yoongi can hear. Fuck this dress, fuck this party, fuck me. Even though you don’t verbalize any of it, you know that he knows.

His eyes flick down your frame like he’s weighing what he wants against what he’s obligated to. Like he’s starving, and he’s searching for permission to sate his appetite.

There’s no weight to your voice when you say, “So, take it off,” but it hits him heavy. You feel the force of it when his hands grip your ass and pull you close. Chest to chest, it’s present in your heartbeat, too; thudding violently with anticipation.

He repeats himself, voice low, “We’re running late.”

But his actions tell you that he doesn’t give a shit about the clock. His mouth finds the skin beneath your jaw, and the heat of his breath warms your neck in the seconds before his lips do. At first, it’s just a kiss.

Then, it’s a whisper.

“Really late.”

Then, it’s the faint graze of his teeth when he nips at you, followed by the flick of his tongue, eager to soothe the sting.

“We can be later,” he muses on an exhale, as if either of you needs to be convinced. His grip on your ass tightens just enough to pull a whimper out of you. “What do you think, Elvira?”

Your brain has liquified with the rest of you, but you summon the strength to run your fingertips along the edges of his lapel. “Tony,” you start with a sigh.

“Hmm?” He hums, mouth too busy to form words.

You grip those lapels and push him slightly backwards, interrupting his ministrations in order to look him dead in the eyes. Loving the challenge, he smirks back at you with one eyebrow arched expectantly.

“One of us’ll die if you don’t kiss me for real, and it won’t necessarily be me.”

Just like always, Yoongi only needs to be told once.

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

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#min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi drabble #yoongi x reader #myg #jade writes #re: darksided #kvanity

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usedpidemo · 22 days

Text

Update - 3rd year anniversary! (and some future plans, a reflection, etc.)

Hi everyone! π here.

By the time this post is up, it'll be the 13th of May. Three years since I began my writing journey and this Tumblr blog. Three years. Time flies by so fast. I was close to graduating senior high after it was delayed because pandemic, had my graduation in an empty room basically, now I'm hitting my third year of college. Crazy stuff.

With that said, here are the stats + timetable of the blog so far:

First work: Sandwich (Wendy) (published 05/13/21, 4:03 a.m)

Highest note count: Tell your friends (Yujin x Wonyoung) (published 01/14/23, 1274 notes)

Number of works published: 91 fics (1 fic every 12.03 days)

500 followers: June 18, 2021 (36 days)

1000 followers: October 12, 2021 (152 days)

2000 followers: June 18, 2022 (401 days)

3000 followers: November 12, 2022 (548 days)

4000 followers: May 22, 2023 (740 days)

5000 followers: December 18, 2023 (950 days)

Current follower count: 5615 (1 new follower every 5.12 days)

It's been a hectic final month of college, so I apologize for the lack of activity in recent times :< But summer is coming up very soon, so hopefully I'll have all the time in the world to write more till then! I will say, a new fic is on the near horizon, so please be on the lookout!

I would like to take the opportunity to thank every single of you, whether reader, lurker, or a fellow writer for your support! Especially during these lull times, your unwavering support has kept me afloat and has been a motivation in continuing to write. Love you guys as always. Here's to another fruitful year <3

From this point, this part will be an overall reflection and life summary of the previous year, my thoughts on some personal matters, and some ideas I've been contemplating. If you don't wanna read this, you can stop here.

I miss 2023 quite a bit, not gonna lie. I know nostalgia can quickly grow warm and fuzzy, seeing the past through rose tinted lens, but I'll admit that 2024 hasn't been off to the start I envisioned it to be. That year was mostly peak for me, and I could even argue it's my favorite year to live out based on all my experiences. Traveling to new places, finally attending live events, interacting with my K-pop biases, and so on—it really felt like the best was yet to come with how 2023 flowed and transitioned into the new year.

Five months in, and I am struggling. Horribly. Most plans, dreams, and ideas have gone up in smoke, and it's just one devastating gut punch after another. I have a shitty professor in one major that basically made me check out of that class, and I don't know my family will react when I tell them I have to repeat said class because that professor was a dick. My family's been infighting on a daily basis, and I'm mostly collateral damage to them. Not one week can go by without some serious confrontation between them. There was a brief health scare with my mother, but that seems to be a nothing matter; thank God she'll be okay.

All this just makes life so deflating, in all honesty. I get that no life is without struggle, but I genuinely don't know when we'll be in the clear. Not anytime soon, I reckon. In these tough times, there's very little comfort except the past, when everything was pretty all right for the most part. It's been demotivating to write when mom comes forward with another grievance with my sister. It's hard to write when you have a professor who likes to power trip their students into submission. It's hard when you don't know how to admit to your mother that he failed his one class because of said power tripping professor.

But that doesn't mean I will let it eat me alive. I know we've been through some utter lows in the past. And we always get back up. If no one has us, then God does.

Summer break is fast approaching and I want to fix things. Even in my own little way. I know none of what I'm saying has anything to do with writing degenerate stories about hot K-pop idols, but real life circumstances have definitely affected me more than I can brush off. I should be calm, unfazed, undeterred.

After all, some stories are meant to be finished. They just take a more unconventional route. Ask Cody.

With all that being said, I will finish these commissions over the next two months. I'm really sorry to everyone who requested and paid for their stories months and months ago; I genuinely feel bad for not getting these out on time, but I am very mindful of quality control, and I have no one to blame but myself for being a slacker and lazy worker. Despite my feelings, I should remain professional—that's what being a worker means.

A lifestyle overhaul is definitely in my list of things to improve over the summer too. Figuring out how to get writing done, finding ways to alleviate my PokeRogue addiction (GOTY), whilst having a healthy work/life balance and not losing my sanity over it. Or worse, burning out.

And I want to take this opportunity to thank all my friends—peach, caps, majorblinks, chunk, frisky, raf, c.o, levi, sins, iz, ken, v1n, ddeun, notions, kevin, eros, brandon, kaede, svn, frisky, cray, rpg, prael—for putting up with my shit for another year. This life is tough, but you guys make it tolerable. Thank you for letting me air out my grievances even when it wasn't the best time to. I pray that when everything passes, I'm able to repay you all in some shape or form generously.

And to you, dear reader, for making it this far, thank you. Whether you've been with me since day one, or day 1094, as a commenter, reposter, liking, or just passing by/lurking, thank you for giving me a chance. Without you, all of this would have been for nothing. I don't know where I would be now if I didn't take that chance, that leap of faith back in 2021, and it's because of you I am able to keep doing this for the love of the game.

With grace,

Peter / π

#update #anniversary

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flyawaybird444 · 6 months

Text

When you say you love me

Know I love you more [pt. 1]

*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

{Description} Everyone knows that Lee Felix is in love. She’s beautiful, mysterious, with a slight edge. The only problem is, he’s one of thousands, and she doesn’t even know he exists.

{Genre} fluff/smut, headcannons

{warnings} Pining (Felix is a fanboy), reader is in a popular band, smut, Felix jerks off to a photo of reader, making out, obsession, alcohol, implied sex under the influence of alcohol. Actual smut scene will occur in pt 2

• If you ask him, Felix will tell you he doesn’t remember how his obsession with the band Struck Silver started.

• The thing is, he does remember, he just wouldn’t dare let that information slip past his lips. It’s just far too embarrassing.

• In fact, he remembers it so well, it’s like it all happened yesterday.

• His mother had always kept a few magazines in the guest bathroom in case it was a lengthy trip, and once, when it was storming, the wifi was out and there was nothing better to do, Felix took one to flip through.

• Your band, Struck Silver, had started locally, and then before you knew it, you were topping the charts. At first, that’s what Felix found most interesting…

• Then he flipped the page, suddenly greeted by a group photo of all 4 band members. His gaze landed on you, posing leaned over your drum set in black leather, your hair at the time, bubblegum pink.

• Total heart eyes, instantaneously, he was head over heels for you. Not even for you, but a picture of you he found in his mother’s bathroom magazine.

• The more he stared, examined, and studied the photo, the more his 18 year old hormonal brain began to pick out little details.

• The way your leather pants hugged your thighs, how your breasts sat in your tiny little tube top, the tattoos down your arms.

• He was fascinated by your piercings, dark makeup, and those glossed lips.

• before he knew it, he was scrambling to lock his door, pants already halfway down. He practically dove back into bed, wrapping his hand around his aching erection in a lustful frenzy

• the other hand tightly gripped the magazine, his brows tightly knitted together, struggling to keep his eyes open and yet desperate to look at you.

• once he was done, he took a deep breath and glanced back at the photo, before he had an idea. He quickly tore it out, grabbed a roll of scotch tape off his desk, and taped the torn magazine page on the wall beside his bed.

• Years later, he’s grown out of his boyish antics, of course. He no longer masturbates to a magazine photo of you, he’s seen your band live a dozen times. He has filmed footage of you stored up on his phone now, and it’s so much more efficient that way.

• He loves the smirk on your face when your bandmates interact with fans on stage, or when you’re 4 songs in and covered in sweat, eyeliner smeared down your face.

• Everyone knows he’s obsessed, but Felix doesn’t like to call it obsession. No, in his eyes, this is love. Now 21, he’s been saving himself for you all these years, and hasn’t so much as thought about dating someone he knows personally. He’s down bad for you, but he loves it.

• Then, one fateful day, Struck Silver was booked locally for their 6 year anniversary tour. Felix was one of the first to buy tickets, having saved up for several months prior to get the best seats he could possibly get. But this time, his best friend, chan offered to go with him.

• As always, the show was great and you looked stunning, straight out of Felix’s wet dreams. After it was over, the two decided to go get some dinner at the local bar/grill.

• Dinner started out uneventful, just casual conversation about Chan’s thoughts on the show. He quite liked your lead singer, and brother, Tony’s voice.

• But, it was the moment the restaurant went silent that Felix’s whole life changed in a split second. You and your brother walked through the door, two security guards behind you.

• The room was so silent, all that could be heard was the top 40’s music playing over the speakers. Tony stopped, stood at the hostess station and spoke “We’re here to pick up an order under (y/l/n)”

• “Of course! You’re free to sit down and wait at the bar, it should only be a few more minutes.”

• The bar? Felix’s heart was in his throat, stomach all twisted in knots. He wondered if he should just leave, run off to the bathroom before he made a fool of himself somehow.

• But before he could make a decision, you were sitting next to him. He glanced at you out of the corner of his brown eyes and his breath hitched. You were even more beautiful up close. He could smell your perfume, sweet and sugary with a gentle musk.

• By this point, Chan was losing his shit laughing at the sight of his best friend freezing in the presence of the love of his life. He decided to mess with the poor blonde even further.

• “Felix can you believe it? There’s your lady, she’s right in front of you. Maybe we should say hi? See if she wants your number-“

• “Chan if you do this i will kick your ass-“

• “(y/n), right?” Chan leaned behind Felix to greet you after you finished signing an autograph. Your bodyguard crossed his arms, face expressionless.

• “It’s so cool to see you here, we’re big fans…my mate Felix tho, he’s a bigger fan. Just ask him about the poster on his wall”

• Felix thought he might pass away right there, until he saw you grin as if you were flattered. “Well isn’t that sweet! We’ve really enjoyed being on tour this time around, but coming home was the best part if you ask me! So many familiar faces! It’s refreshing!”

• Felix smiled, your eyes locking a moment before he cleared his throat and turned sheepishly to sip his drink.

• “Sorry about him,” Chan spoke “He’s been dreaming of this moment since he was like 13. You’re blowing it man, come on!”

• His cheeks burned, and he shot Chan a sharp glare.

• “18” Felix muttered

• “pshh” chan waved his hand “same thing”

• “Ahh i see! Well then, maybe a round will help you two loosen up a bit. It’s on me!” You chirped, giving Felix a wink.

• And so the drinking began

• Two shots down and Felix was feeling a bit more confident.

• Two more, and he had no idea where chan was. All he knew was the taste of your glossed lips in the back of the uber, heading straight for your hotel room.

#sub!skz #sub!stray kids #sub! felix #lee felix #sub!felix #sub!idol #dom!reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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peachesofteal · 4 months

Note

Reading “Dead Disco” again, and Lord does it bring back such familiar feelings.

I was Darling in my early twenties. I have bipolar disorder, and was horrible about taking my meds, causing my brain to be in shambles half the time. I had horrible anxiety, one boyfriend couldn’t stick around because he needed someone “normal,” it hurt. And it sucks to not fully understand yourself or why you act/think the way you do.

But then, when I turned 25, I met a man. And oooohhhh did he change my life. He saw me - I mean REALLY saw me. He didn’t let me push him away, he never let the nasty thoughts in my head win. If I fell into a dark space, he sat there with me until I felt strong enough to climb back out. He was there every step of the way. I didn’t think it would last, because, hello… it’s me. Surely I’ll ruin it, right? For once, I’m happy I was wrong.

On Wednesday, we’re going to our favorite restaurant to celebrate our five year anniversary, and after dessert, I’m going to give him the (well cleaned) positive pregnancy test I took two weeks ago.

My point, Darlings, is that it does get better. You will not be in the dark forever. You will find true happiness, whether it be through friends, a lover, a pet, a hobby, or (saving the best for last) yourself. Never stop fighting for your happiness. Ever. You are so much stronger and braver than you think.

I promise, we’re all going to be okay in the end. ❤️ sorry for the rant - your writing puts me in my damn feelings and I love you for it.

I wanted to keep this in my inbox forever, selfishly, but then I wouldn’t be able to share it with others who I know might be feeling or experiencing the same things.

Tw mental health (and some personal lore which feels a little uncomfy if I’m being honest but this felt important to me so)

I know your story. I suspect others know it too. I know how it feels to think something is broken in your brain, how it feels to be afraid that you’ll never “be normal”, what it’s like to think the best parts of your personality are actually just symptoms of some “mental disorder” (I call it ✨ spicy brain ✨ because I refuse to call anything disordered)

You’re right, the darkness does end. Things do get better. They did for me, they did for you, and they will for all the darlings who haven’t gotten there yet. With or without spicy brains.

The key is to not give up. Keep going. Keep fighting. Don’t quit. The world didn’t end when I was 17, or 23, or 25. It didn’t end through the highest highs and the lowest lows. I kept going and so did you, and I’m so happy for you. I’m proud of you. Of us. And to top it all off, you found your person. So did I. A triumph in itself, for someone like darling. And sure, do I still struggle? Yeah, as I’m sure you might as well. But we know the darkness doesn’t last forever, and I’d love to try to give that hope, that knowledge to someone who’s in the bottom of the well right now.

I’m unbelievably thrilled for you and your happiness. I hope your anniversary was lovely, and I’m sending you all my love for your big news.

Thank you so much for sending this to me. 🩵 this was really special.

#peaches asks #crying in the club #actually crying though #this really touched me anon #ily

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multifandom-worlds · 15 days

Text

Missing in Action

Genre: angst

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Suicide, mental health struggles, grief, death (in passing), violence, bullying.

Authors Note: Hi everyone! This is going to be a bit of a heavier fic. If it's to much for you to handle, that's okay! Take care of yourself. This does have a bit of a happier ending. If I missed anything in the warnings, do let me know!

Ape - Bee

Bellissima - beautiful

Tagging: @slytherins-heir @simplyholl

The Battle of Hogwarts -- one of the bloodiest battles in the Second Wizard War, and you lived to tell the harrowing tales. You were one of the lucky ones.

A year and a half had passed since then, the castle had been rebuilt, and the dead were laid to rest. It took a year for classes to resume, but here you were again, going through the routine again with your closest friends - Draco Malfoy, who bravely fought against his parents on the side of good, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire and Regulus Black. Although things were getting back to normal, a significant part of your group was missing. Mattheo Riddle, son of the Dark Lord himself but, more importantly, your beloved, was gone.

Mattheo was not among the survivors at the end of the war, nor was his body found within the ruined castle rubble. The professors and Ministry of Magic alike scoured the school grounds in search of anything, but nothing could be seen of him. The mystery of his disappearance deepened, with rumours of what happened to him beginning to spread. One thing all the rumours had in common was painting Mattheo as a hero - the prodigal son of the Dark Lord, standing up against him, holding off the death eaters while many students fled. He was one of the many unsung heroes of the war, his fate uncertain.

As the months progressed and nobody ever found any trace of Mattheo, the hope of his survival began to drop. First, it was the Ministry. A few months later, the professors gave up hope that he was alive. Just recently, Theo had finally given up hope that he was still alive. You heard him talking in the Great Hall about it.

“What do you lot think? Is he actually coming back?” Theo asks, his voice calm. It was not quite a whisper, but it was not his total volume. “Do you believe Matt was actually able to survive the war? Survive all the shit he endured? Are we just kidding ourselves and holding onto false hope?”

Draco shook his head, looking around for you, hoping you weren’t in earshot. “There’s no way. He could not possibly have survived. I heard that on the second anniversary, they’re going to add his name to the In Memory speech. It seems as though everyone has accepted it now, except her.”

“I’ll tell her,” Theo says dejectedly. He didn’t want to break your heart even more. “It’s best it comes from me. I don’t want her to get blindsided by the news when it happens; she already has nightmares every night about the war. Like the rest of us, she carries those scars, mental and physical. She won’t like it.” he trails off with a deep sigh, placing his head in his hands, mentally psyching himself up to go have this conversation yet again.

He leaves the Great Hall in the direction of the Slytherin dorms. It wasn’t hard to know where you would be - you spent all your time in his bed, wearing his clothes and, in Theo’s mind, prolonging your hurt.

“You’re wrong, Theo!” You whimper, staring at your boyfriend's best friend standing at the door to his and Mattheo’s dorm. “He can’t be gone! There’s no way he's gone! We killed his father! You were the one who cast the curse!”

He opens the door of the dorm, seeing you sitting on his bed, reading your book, his pillow between your arms. “Hey, we have to talk.” He says, leaning against the doorframe. “They want to add his name to the list of students who died. I think it's time, Bellissima. I think you need to let him go. He died protecting the school, its students and you.”

Theo sighs, running his fingers through his curls. “Ape, he’s gone. There are so many places his body could be that would have been hidden. Yes, we killed his father, but that does not mean he didn’t have a hand in his death. I miss him, too. I miss him like you wouldn’t believe it, but you need to accept that he’s gone. He would want you to move on, apa.”

Your tears began to slide down your cheeks as Theo carefully sat beside you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. It didn’t take long for your whimpers to turn into full sobs as you hid your face against his chest. Words can not describe how terrible Theo felt at that moment, holding you once again as you sobbed into his chest. He wanted you to move on, to move on from all the pain and memories that place had, but until Mattheos body was recovered, he knew it was impossible. He held you as you cried, resting his chin on the top of your head, just as he has done almost nightly since the battle ended.

Theo pulls you away from him once all your tears dried up. “Please come for dinner, ape. The others are asking about you, and I want you to eat something, please.” He brushes your hair from your face, looking at you earnestly.

You nod softly, wiping your eyes. “O-okay. I do miss Reggie and Ferret Boy.” you chuckle at the nickname. Draco absolutely hated it, but he begrudgingly accepted it from you. “And obviously Enzo.”

Theo stands up first, taking your hand and carefully helping you to your feet, his hands on your shoulders to keep you balanced. Once you finished mentally preparing yourself, you take his arm, leave the dorm, and make your way upstairs to the Great Hall. You keep your eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. Theo keeps you close; his imposing height and proclivity for fighting keep everyone away from the two of you.

“There she is.” You could hear Draco say as you and Theo step into the Great Hall. Tentatively, you look up, meeting the eyes of your favourite ferret. He smiles, waving you over. You and Theo make your way to the Slytherin table before joining your friends. “You look good, Bee,” Draco says once you’re sitting between him and Lorenzo.

“Fuck yeah, you do,” Enzo says next, pulling you into a side hug, and Theo rounds the table and sits across from you, beside Regulus. “I missed having my favourite Slytherin around. It’s not the same without you.”

“You see me in class every day, Enz…” You mutter, looking at him. You had no idea why they missed you because you still went to all your classes with them. “I’m still around; I don’t know what you mean?”

“I just mean...” Lorenzo begins, but a second voice interrupts him. You look up and see Cormac McLaggen standing just behind Regulus and Theo, a stupid, cocky smile plastered on his face.

“He means your depressed ass isn’t worth being around,” Cormac says, his friends laughing at the face you were making, your eyes welling up with tears. “Fuckin’ crybaby. If you miss that cunt so much, why not join him? Just do it in front of me so I can enjoy you.”

Within seconds of the last sound leaving Cormac’s mouth, Theo was on his feet, colliding his fist into Cormac’s nose, sending him sprawling against the empty table behind him. Before anyone realized what had happened, Theo was on him, landing punch after punch into his face.

Regulus joins in, the two of them taking turns being Cormac’s face until he is 50 shades of black and blue. His nose bent at a noticeable angle, his eyes were actively swelling and already turning black, and his cheek caved in. Several of his fingers bent out of shape, and he most certainly had several broken ribs. He lays motionless on the table, barely conscious as Madame Pomfry and McGonagall come rushing over.

“Mr. Nott, Mr. Black, what is the meaning of this!?” McGonagall demands, looking between Cormac and the two Slytherins.

Theo looks up at her, his lips pulled into a tight line, his whole body tense. “He called Mattheo a cunt, called his girlfriend a crybaby and told her to kill herself in front of him so he could fuck her dead body.” He stated matter of factly. He knew he was justified in his merciless beating.

“And I meant every fucking word. She’s a depressed bitch who needs to join her” beloved” if she missed him that much” Theo, Regulus and McGonagall could hear Cormac's strained laughter after he finished speaking.

Theo grabs him by his collars, hauling him up so their faces are inches apart. “If I hear you say anything about her or Mattheo, I will cut out your tongue with a pair of rusty scissors and watch you bleed to death. Got that, Cormac?” Theo drops him back on the table, spitting in his face before turning around and seeing you hiding your face against Draco’s jacket.

“Detention for you both! And 50 points from Slytherin. Each.” McGonagall states, looking between Theo and Regulus before turning her attention to you. “As for you, dear. This really is not good for you; you need to accept that Mr. Riddle is no longer with us. You need to move on and focus on your academics.”

“Excuse me…” you mutter, pushing away from Draco and running out of the Great Hall. You blink away tears as you navigate through the school. You didn’t know where you were going; you just needed to know you had to get away. Away from everyone who believed he was dead, away from everyone who told you to move on. Away from it all.

You found yourself at the top of the Astronomy tower, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts. You sigh, remembering all the blood and carnage that decorated the grounds years before. You look over at the Forbidden Forest, the last place you saw Mattheo alive. He saved you from a death eater’s imperious curse by casting his very own Unforgivable curse - Avada Kadavra. You didn’t even have a chance to thank him before he was snatched up and dragged away by Fenrir Greyback. The last thing you heard from him was him yelling that he loved you and that he would find you again, in this life or the next.

You could hear a commotion below you on the grounds, but you paid it no mind. You were tired, tired of everyone telling you he was dead, tired of everyone bringing it up, tired of looking at your body in the mirror and seeing all the scars from that cursed battle on your skin, forced to relive it day after day. The PTSD was too much for you to handle, so you decided to jump, to end everything once and for all. You knew Theo and Regulus would be in detention; Draco and Enzo were probably tormenting them, so there was no one to stop you.

You pull your robes off, folding them neatly on the ground before grabbing your phone and writing a quick note, an explanation of why you did it. You carefully place your phone on top of your robes before stepping back up to the railing, intending to throw yourself off it when your phone rings. You picked it up again, only to see Theo’s name pop up. Odd, he should be in detention right now; you decide to answer it, acutely aware it could be one of Cormac’s minions ready to continue what he started.

“Hello…?” You answer timidly, walking back to the railing. The commotion happening below you was getting louder. Clearly, you were about to have an audience.

“Don't do it, my love. I need you!” The voice on the phone sounded too much like Mattheo, but you knew it couldn't be. He was dead; everyone believed it, and you were going to be next.

“Who are you, and why do you have Theo’s phone? He’s in detention right now.” You say, anger beginning to surge to the surface.

“You know who I am, love. Please, please don’t. Don’t listen to Cormac, he’s a scumbag. I need you; Theo and Reggie need you. Draco and Enzo need you to. We all need you. Please, my love, don’t do it.”

Your hand grips your phone, trembling. “I'm going to do it. Cormac was right. I'm going to jump and put an end to everyone's misery.”

The voice began talking again, sounding frantic. “Please, baby. Please don't jump. I can't bear to watch my only light extinguish herself. Please, Theo's on his way to get you, but please, please step away from the railing.”

“I don't know who I'm talking to, but it's not Mattheo. I don't believe you! You're just made up, a figment of my imagination. You're not real! He’s dead, and everyone believes it! But I'm going to be joining him soon!” You step forward, swinging one leg over the railing, tears streaming down your face.

“Mon Coeur, please….”

You swing your other leg over the railing, looking down at the dizzying height, ready to let go, when a pair of strong arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you back to safety.

“No! Let me go! I want to do it! I want to end it all! Please just let me join him!” You cry, fighting with whoever it was that grabbed you.

The arms wrap tighter around you before a familiar Italian accent hits your ears. “Ape, he's alive. You were right. He's at the bottom of the stairs. Come down, come with me, and we can see him together.”

“You're wrong, Theo! You told me he's dead! You and everyone else kept telling me he was dead and I needed to move on. Why are you tormenting me like this? Why are you doing this? Please just let me die.” You sob, fighting against Theo’s grip.

Theo rests his chin on your head. “If you're not going to walk down these steps, I'm going to carry you down, but we are going,” he says, very matter-of-factly. You give up, knowing Theo is serious. He notices the call is still connected, so he grabs the phone from your hand and puts it to his ear. “I have her; she’s safe in my arms. We're on your way down, Matt.”

“Oh, thank Merlin. Okay, I'll see you two soon.” Mattheo says a wave of relief washing over him. He was so thankful she believed he was still alive. If only he had gotten to you sooner, maybe you wouldn't have fallen this far into the darkness. All that mattered was he was about to see you again for the first time since the battle.

You and Theo slowly begin to descend the stairs; he has his arm wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you stable since your anxious trembling makes each stair dangerous. The closer to the bottom you got, the more your heart pounded in your chest. Theo wouldn’t lie…right? He wouldn’t pretend Mattheo was alive and the voice on the phone sounded so much like him, but it couldn’t possibly be him. You knew what Greyback was capable of; there’s no way Mattheo survived that.

You and Theo arrive at the bottom of the stairs, and there, standing right in front of you, is Mattheo - an older, more scarred and more traumatized version of Mattheo, but it is still Mattheo, your Mattheo.

You let go of Theo, nervously walking towards him. “Matty…?” You ask, gently touching his cheek. He cups your hand with his, leaning into your touch, his eyes meeting yours. You knew those soulful brown eyes anywhere; this is your Mattheo.

He smiles, taking your hand and kissing your palm, just as he always did before. “In the flesh, Mon Coeur. I missed you so much. I dreamt about you every night when I wasn’t plagued with nightmares. I was so scared you had either died or moved on, and I would never have you in my arms again, never wake up with your perfect face, never listen to you talk about everything you loved. Draco told me you never gave up hope, even when everyone else did. Thank you, baby. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“But how…?” you question, meeting his eyes, pleading with him. “How are you still alive? E-everyone believed you died…I saw you! I saw Greyback take you! A-are you really him?” You ask, step away, your suspicions growing. This has to be some sort of prank.

Mattheo’s face fell, his smile replaced by a heartbroken frown. “I promise, I am who I say I am. What can I do to make you believe me, amour?”

You look at him, wanting so desperately to believe. “How did you survive? Where were we, and what was the last thing you said to me?”

“We were in the forbidden forest; I told you I love you, and I would find you in this world or the next.” He smiles, seeing the doubt melt away from your eyes. “And as for how I survived. My brother. Tom.”

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle angst #slytherin boys angst #suicide #grief #mental health #tw death #death #violence #bullying

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