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03jyh23 · 19 days

Text

— 2 soon || kim hongjoong part 1

goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

(listen here)

idol!hongjoong x non-idol!reader

synopsis: years after choosing his career over you, hongjoong still finds himself haunted by the memories of you. your relationship is a constant dance of on and off, and you cannot stay away from him.

genre: lovers to strangers to ?, angst, smut

trigger warnings: cussing/mature language, break-ups, toxic relationships, possessiveness, toxic jealousy, sex as a coping mechanism, excessive alcohol usage, emotional manipulation, obsession, verbal aggression, emotional distress, mentions of clubbing, career-related stress, explicit sexual content: making out, protected sex (condom), mentions of using birth control, pet names baby, princess, handjob, blowjob, hair pulling, neck kisses, dirty talk, nipple play (?), missionary

words: 12.8 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! after several intense days of work, it's finally here! the first part of the goes to waste series! while writing 2 soon, i had many negative thoughts and was very self-critical. im still not sure if i did a good job - especially when it comes to smut. smut is the genre where i probably will never feel good enough, but believe me, im really trying. the second part is already in the process of being written. im handing this over to you; thank you very much for such a warm reception of this series, and i hope you'll enjoy it. and please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings for the sexual content!

love, monika. ♡

if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!

taglist: @skittyneos @kyeos4ng @vcutparis

one

There you were, unexpectedly positioned in a scenario you never once imagined you would find yourself in. It was the middle of the night, the hour when all was quiet and still. Your ordinarily vibrant living room was dimmed, with only a single floor lamp in the corner casting long, dramatic shadows across the room. You were nestled into the corner of the worn-out comfortable sofa, hugging a pillow close as if it were your only lifeline. The only sounds filling the silence were the words from your boyfriend, each one hanging heavy in the cold air. You were painfully aware of what was coming, a gut-wrenching feeling of imminent heartbreak washing over you. The reality of the situation was that there was no escaping this conversation, no possibility of emerging unscathed. The knowledge that Hongjoong was about to shatter your heart into pieces was a bitter pill to swallow. This moment was the beginning of an end you had never anticipated. And it was happening tonight.

"The company believes that you will become a distraction," Hongjoong said, his voice laced with an undercurrent of tension.

"I don't give a damn about your stupid company," you retorted, your hand trembling and your eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment. "I wasn't a distraction all these years when you were a trainee, so why am I suddenly one now?" Hongjoong paced nervously across the room, his movements betraying his inner turmoil. He was torn between the company and you, and he didn't know how to navigate this minefield.

"Y/N..." he sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Now that Ateez is gaining more attention after our first prize win and the new album coming soon, the company..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. "They believe I need to remain more focused."

"I don't fucking care about what they think, Hongjoong!" you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of your emotions. "You think I give a damn about their opinion?" you continued, your voice rising with each word. "They don't know us, they don't know what we've been through. All they see is some stupid company policy, but they don't see the love that we share." Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the pain of the situation threatening to consume you whole. You had never felt so helpless, so powerless.

"Please, try to calm down. You're not making this any easier," Hongjoong pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

''I don’t fucking believe that after almost three years they decided I will become a problem...'' Your voice cracked, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Hongjoong looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. It was clear that this conversation was tearing him apart just as much as it was you. "Hongjoong, do you believe what they're saying?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. "Do you think they're right?"

He paused, his back still turned towards you. "I... I don't know, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely audible. "What if they are right?" The question hung in the air, a haunting doubt that only added to the heartache. Your heart pounded in your chest, the words echoing in your mind.

"You already believed them…'' you asserted, your voice tinged with a hint of defiance. ''I can't believe that you see me as a distraction now." With a frustrated cry, you grabbed the pillow and hurled it across the room, the action serving as a physical release for the pent-up anger and despair that threatened to consume you. "Fuck it, Hongjoong," you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I need you to choose me. I need you to fight for us, for our love. Because if you don't, then what's the point of any of this?"

There was a long silence before he finally spoke. "I...I need to do what's best for my career," he answered softly, sounding utterly defeated. "And if that means that we..." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish the sentence. You felt a lump in your throat and fought back the tears.

''So, you’re going to leave me?'' Hongjoong turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Hongjoong's eyes flickered with pain as he met your gaze, his own turmoil reflected in the depths of his gaze. "I can't lose my career, Y/N! It's everything I've worked for.'' His words cut through you like a knife, searing through your heart. You had always known that his career was important to him, but you had never imagined that he would be willing to sacrifice your relationship for it. ''I’m sorry, Y/N,'' he managed to say, his voice filled with regret. ''I have to do this.''

"Just say it already..." Your voice was shaky, the tension in the room was palpable, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"I want to break up," Hongjoong finally said, his voice barely audible but clear enough for you to hear.

Your voice broke as you responded, "If this is your decision, then I'm not going to fight it. I won't beg you to stay, Hongjoong." The room was filled with a painful silence after your words. The reality of what was happening hit you both, but you stood your ground. "No, I won't beg," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "If this is what you've chosen, then I have no right to stop you. But remember this, Hongjoong, love is not a distraction. It's what keeps us human." He looked at you, his eyes welling up with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, the regret in his voice tangible.

"I need you to leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The room fell silent again. With a heavy sigh, Hongjoong cast a long, lingering glance in your direction, his eyes filled with a sadness he had never felt before. You couldn't meet his gaze, your own eyes fixated on the worn-out fabric of the couch, your hands clenched tightly in your lap.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he repeated, his voice just as quiet as yours. He hovered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else, offering him a way out of this situation. But there was nothing more to be said. The decision had been made.

"I'm sorry too, Hongjoong," you whispered into the silence, your voice trembling. The words echoed in the quiet room, a bitter acknowledgment of the pain that both of you were feeling. Slowly, Hongjoong headed towards the door, his steps heavy and uncertain. Each footstep felt like a punch to your heart, amplifying the emptiness that was beginning to set in. As the front door opened, a shiver went down your spine. With one last look, Hongjoong closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment. The silence was deafening, the absence of his presence felt like a void. You sat there, motionless, the harsh reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Eventually, you rose from the couch, your legs feeling like jelly. You switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. You could still feel the remnants of Hongjoong's presence, the memories of your time together felt almost tangible. But, he was gone. And you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone. Your small apartment never felt lonelier.

two

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting shadows everywhere. Hongjoong sat on the hotel floor, his heart ached like a heavy stone in his chest, echoing the raw, jagged pain of an all-too-fresh wound. Next to him sat a half-empty bottle of whiskey, its strong liquor failing to dull the hollow gnawing pain that gripped him. For the past few months, Hongjoong had been busier than he'd ever been. Recording sessions that kept him up all night, followed by grueling dance practices to perfect choreography. Once ATEEZ’s first studio album was finally out, there was an endless string of fan sign events and meetings. Then, his dreams came true — they announced a world tour. Hongjoong was so busy that eating and sleeping felt like a luxury. He was happy, but not completely. Something was always missing. You were missing. Hongjoong'd become a master at hiding his pain from the world. So good, in fact, that he'd even managed to hide it from himself. But even as busy as Hongjoong was with his career, there were moments when he couldn't help but constantly think about you. And in those small moments every song that he wrote, every dance he choreographed, every performance he gave, you were always on his mind. Hongjoong was haunted by your memories, by the love he had lost. And even if he was being so good at hiding his emotions, his bandmates could see the change in him. They saw the sadness in his eyes, the heaviness in his steps, the emptiness in his laughter. But they said nothing, respecting his silence, knowing that this was a battle he had to fight on his own. Now, it’s been over six months since he broke up with you. Since he had chosen his career over your love, ambition over affection. He believed it was the right decision, but it did not lessen the pain of his heartbreak.

Hongjoong's eyes fell on his phone, lying innocently on the carpet. He had been contemplating it for hours, his heart pounding with apprehension. He longed to reach out to you, to hear your voice again and beg for forgiveness. Everything seemed so pointless without you. His dreams and ambitions felt hollow and meaningless. The fame, the success, the love from fans all over the world — none of it mattered. Because without you by his side, sharing in his joy and success, it all felt empty. All he could think of was the sweet sound of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, the comfort of your presence. And the longer he was without you, the more he realized how much he had lost. Taking a shaky breath, Hongjoong gathered the courage to pick the phone up, dialed your number with unsteady fingers, and pressed the call button. Eight rings echoed in his ears, each one a chance to hang up, to retreat, to save himself from the impending heartache. But he didn't. He couldn't.

"Hello?"

"H-hey," His voice wavered, barely more than a whisper, "How... how you been? How you doing?" His heart pounded against his ribs. The room felt smaller with every passing second as if the walls were closing in on him. Hongjoong gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white as if holding onto it was the only thing keeping him grounded at that moment.

"I've been... okay," your voice was guarded, a stark contrast to the warmth it used to hold when you spoke to him. "Just... keeping busy, you know." Your heart was pounding loudly, so loud you were scared Hongjoong was going to hear it on the other side of the phone. You tried to steady your breathing, focusing on each exhale and inhale. There was silence on the other end. You could almost picture Hongjoong there, sitting in the dimly lit room, phone in hand, as he grappled with your words. The silence stretched on and for a moment.

"I've... I've been drinking," he confessed, a bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Thought I'd be over you by now... but I'm not. I can't be." His voice cracked, raw emotion spilling out. There was a pause again, a silence that seemed to last forever.

"Hongjoong..." you murmured, your voice filled with a detached understanding that was almost more painful than the silence before. "You... You shouldn't be drinking, Hongjoong," you said softly, concern seeping into your voice despite your best efforts to keep it neutral.

"I miss you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I... I know I caused you pain. I know I can't turn back time. But I... I can't imagine a life without you." The line went silent once again, except for his ragged breath and the deafening beat of his heart. Hongjoong held his breath, waiting, knowing that your next words could either set him free or push him further into his torment. Despite the distance, despite the coldness in your voice, he thought he detected a hint of lingering affection for him. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but it was there. A slight hesitation in your voice before you spoke, a soft sigh he barely caught. It gave him a glimmer of hope, but also a sea of despair. Because he knew that even though you might still harbor feelings for him, his choices had wounded you.

"I miss you too," you said, your voice so quiet that he almost missed the words. And in that moment, he knew that you felt the pain just as sharply as he did. Despite the remnants of love between you, you were both trapped in this cycle of regret and longing, both victims of his ambition. He longed to tell you that he loved you, that he was ready to give up everything to be with you. But the words wouldn't come. Because he knew he couldn't. He couldn't let go of his career, but he couldn't let go of you either. And so, he found himself stuck in this self-destructive cycle, driven by his own choices and his inability to let go of the past. The burden of his decisions hung heavy in the silence. His heart ached with unspoken words and the bitter sting of regret.

"I want to see you..." Hongjoong whispered into the phone, as he took another swig of the whiskey, the bitter liquid burning his throat, a fitting punishment for his mistakes. He closed his eyes, the image of your face clear in his mind, the memory of your laughter echoing in his ears. He missed you. He missed you more than he could put into words, more than he could bear. But all he had were his dreams and ambitions, the things he chose over you. ''I don’t know what I’m expecting'' All Hongjoong knew was that he missed you and that no amount of fame or success could fill the void you left in his heart.

"I... I want to see you too," you responded, soft and hesitant, yet filled with a longing that mirrored his own. Since the day Hongjoong left, your world had changed drastically, nothing felt the same. You tried to move on, to heal and rebuild your life without him. But it seemed like every time you made a little progress, something related to ATEEZ would unexpectedly appear, pulling you back into the memories of him. It was as if the universe was conspiring to ensure Hongjoong remained an inescapable part of your life, refusing to let you forget him.

"I don't know if this is a good idea...but, can we meet?" Hongjoong held his breath, waiting for your response, the silence between you two stretching out into a deafening void.

"Okay," you finally whispered back, the single word carrying a world of hope and fear, a promise of a reunion fraught with uncertainties and unspoken feelings. A wave of relief washed over Hongjoong, followed by a pang of anxiety. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, so many apologies to make, so many feelings to confess. But he feared that it might be too late, that the damage he had caused was irreparable. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult for him to speak.

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. "I'll be back home in a few weeks, I’ll see you then?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'll see you then," you replied softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. "Take care of yourself, Hongjoong.''

The call ended, leaving Hongjoong alone in the dimly lit room once again. He sat there, staring at his phone, his heart heavy with a mix of relief, fear, and longing. He didn't know if this was the beginning of a new chapter or the closure of an old one. All he knew was that he needed to see you. He needed to say the things he had been unable to say for the past six months. And most importantly, he needed to apologize.

three

The interminable weeks you anxiously awaited for Hongjoong's return seemed to mercilessly drag on, transforming into a seemingly endless expanse of time. In truth, the past few months without him felt like an eternity, every moment punctuated by his absence. After the initial shock of your breakup, which shook you to your core, you managed to shake off the immobilizing numbness that it brought. Once the initial shock was dealt with, you allowed yourself to fall into a routine, an everyday pattern of activities that became your lifeline in these challenging times. This routine, mundane as it might have been, was the only thing that kept you going, the only thing that kept you sane amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to consume you. It was your anchor in a sea of chaos, providing a sense of normalcy in a world that, without Hongjoong, felt anything but normal. So, when you saw the news that ATEEZ had returned from their tour, it took you by surprise. You thought Hongjoong would call you straight away, that he would want to see you as much as you wanted to see him. You were holding on to the thought of seeing the man you loved again, of finding closure, or perhaps a new beginning. But the call didn't come, and with each passing day, your hope dwindled a little more. The silence was deafening, filling you with a sense of dread and disappointment. But despite everything, you continued to wait, clinging on to the hope of hearing from him. Days turned into weeks, and the silence from Hongjoong was deafening. You tried to keep yourself busy, to distract your mind from the painful thoughts that threatened to consume you. You began to question his intentions, wondering whether he really meant what he said during the phone call. Did he truly miss you, or was it just a moment of weakness? Did he genuinely want to see you, or was he simply trying to ease his guilt? Your mind was a whirlpool of questions, doubts, and insecurities. You felt like you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair. Despite the emotional turmoil, you couldn't bring yourself to reach out to him first. You weren't ready to face the possibility of rejection, the fear of him telling you that he had moved on and that the phone call was a mistake. So, you waited, hoping against hope that he would contact you.

One evening, while you were trying to drown your sorrows in a sad movie and a tub of ice cream, the doorbell rang, startling you out of your thoughts. Your heart pounded in your chest as you got up to answer it. As you swung the door open, there he was. Hongjoong stood on your doorstep, looking just as nervous and scared as you felt. You were taken aback, not having expected him to show up at your doorstep. You felt a mix of emotions - surprise, fear, anxiety, but also a strange relief. Despite the emotional turmoil swirling within you, you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of him. He was as handsome as always, his dark blue hair tousled slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and longing. For a moment, you found yourself lost in the depths of his gaze, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. It was surreal to see him standing there, on your doorstep, after so many weeks of silence and uncertainty. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the tumult of emotions that raged within you.

"H-Hey," he stuttered out, his eyes avoiding yours. "I hope I'm not... I hope this isn't too soon."

"No, it's... it's okay. Come in," you said, stepping aside to let him in. He hesitated for a moment, then walked inside. You closed the door behind him, it felt strangely normal to have him there, in your apartment, as if the last few months had been nothing but a bad dream. But the tension in the air was palpable, a reminder that things weren't the same anymore. You led him to the living room, he took a deep breath, his gaze wandering around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings.

"It's been a while," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, it has," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. The silence that followed was deafening, both of you lost in your own thoughts. Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence.

"I... I wanted to apologize," he began, his voice shaky. "I know I hurt you, and I'm... I'm really sorry." He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I made a mistake... a big one. And I... I want to make it right." You were silent for a moment, processing his words. It was what you had been waiting to hear, but now that he had said it, you didn't know how to respond. You looked at him, studying his face, searching for sincerity in his eyes. Despite the hurt and confusion swirling within you, you couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited at his words. His apology felt genuine, raw with emotion. As you wrestled with your thoughts, a part of you longed to forgive him, to embrace the possibility of reconciliation. Yet another part remained guarded, wary of opening yourself up to further pain. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I've missed you so much," he confessed. Suddenly, Hongjoong reached out, pulling you into an embrace. The sudden movement startled both of you, but neither of you pulled away. On the contrary, you nestled deeper into his arms, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne instantly calmed your racing heart, making you feel like you were home again. In his arms, the pain and heartache of the past few months seemed to melt away. As you held each other in a tight embrace, the weight of the past few months began to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. Despite the pain and uncertainty that had plagued your relationship, being in his arms felt right, as if you were finally where you were meant to be.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The words were a confession, a raw admission of the emptiness that had consumed you in his absence. The warmth of his embrace melted away the walls you had built around your heart. Despite the doubts and uncertainties that lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the overwhelming rush of emotions that surged through you. Without thinking, you lifted your head from the crook of his neck, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. At that moment, all the words you had been longing to say seemed to vanish from your mind, replaced by a desperate need to express the depth of your feelings for him. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender, passionate kiss. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though time stood still, the world around you fading into oblivion as you lost yourself in the intoxicating warmth of his embrace. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed insignificant, overshadowed by the overwhelming rush of love and longing that coursed through your veins. As you pulled away, breathless and trembling, you found yourself staring into his eyes, searching for some sign of understanding, of reciprocation. Hongjoong smiled and giggled quietly,

''I did not expect this…'' Your heart fluttered at the sound of his soft laughter, a gentle melody that filled the room. Despite the gravity of the situation, his laughter was like a balm to your wounded soul, easing some of the tension that had been building within you. Hongjoong’s hand found its way to your flushed cheek, it was a comforting presence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you leaned into his touch, relishing the warmth of his palm against your skin.

"I know," you replied softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

''Can we do it again?'' A soft chuckle escaped your lips at his bashful demeanor, finding it endearing how he could still manage to blush after all this time.

"Of course," you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer to him. The warmth of Hongjoong’s breath against your skin sent a thrill coursing through you, reigniting the spark of desire that had never truly faded between you. Closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips to his once more, savoring his familiar taste and feel. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were picking up right where you had left off, lost in the intensity of your love for each other. As you pulled away breathlessly, the intensity of the moment lingering between you, Hongjoong placed his forehead against yours, his hand pulling you closer by your waist. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for far too long. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate and needy. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you rising. Hongjoong's voice was husky when he pulled back, his breath hot against your ear as he said,

"I'm not gonna stop myself if we keep on." You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a stark reminder of the intimacy you hadn't shared in so long. A shiver ran through your body as you processed his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had missed this closeness, the intoxicating intimacy that only Hongjoong could provide. Despite the uncertainties that still lingered, your body yearned for his. You met his gaze, your eyes reflecting the desire that was undoubtedly mirrored in his.

"Then don't stop," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. There was no hesitation in his actions then. His lips found yours again, his hands exploring your body, reigniting the flame that had never fully extinguished. Hongjoong's grip on your hips tightened, his touch electrifying, igniting a spark within you. He pulled your hair just the way you liked it, gentle yet firm, exposing your neck to his gaze. He began to leave a trail of wet kisses along your sensitive skin, his warm breath causing shivers to run down your spine. The anticipation was unbearable. You knew that after all this time, after all the longing and desire that had built up between you, you wouldn’t last long. Every fiber of your being was desperate to feel his body against yours, to experience the intimate connection that only he could provide. And as if he could read your thoughts, Hongjoong returned to kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. He was devouring you with an intensity that took your breath away, his every touch and kiss stoking the fire within you. You felt his hands tugging at the hem of your hoodie, his fingers deftly pulling it over your head in one swift, practiced motion. As the fabric lifted away, the cool air of the room hit your skin, causing a shiver to course through your body. To Hongjoong's surprise, you were not wearing a bra underneath. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over your exposed chest, taking in the sight of your bare skin. There was a moment of silence as he savored the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. Your head was spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations taking over, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second. Hongjoong placed his palm on your breast, cupping it gently but firmly. His touch was warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air surrounding you. His fingers, tender and explorative, began to play with your nipple, tracing delicate patterns that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned softly. Each touch ignited a spark within you, a flame of desire that seemed to grow with every passing second.

As your hands began to wander, you found yourself drawn to his jeans. Your fingers deftly unclasped his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the room. Heart pounding with anticipation, you slid the zipper down, the sound seeming to reverberate through the room. Hongjoong quickly removed his own shirt, revealing his toned chest. Your hands instinctively reached out to him, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. In response, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground with ease. Hongjoong carried you towards the bedroom, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. As he gently put you down, your eyes locked with his, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again in a deep, passionate kiss while his hands roamed over your body, further stoking the flame of desire within you. You found yourself lost in his touch, each stroke of his fingers sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he slowly moved down, peppering soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, you could hardly contain the moan that escaped your lips. Hongjoong pulled your shorts down, kissing your stomach and hip bones. His touch was electrifying, setting your skin ablaze with a hunger that only he could satisfy. You reached for his pants, finally tugging both them and his boxers down and revealing his throbbing erection. Hongjoong groaned as you wrapped your fingers around his thick dick, you spread pre-cum on his length and stroked him gently yet firmly, eliciting a moan from him. Hongjoong was so hard, so ready for you, and the thought only made you wetter. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you knelt in front of him and placed a kiss on the tip of his throbbing length. Sensing his anticipation, you started licking him from the base all the way to the tip, savoring the taste of him. His body shivered in response to your actions, his breath hitching as he watched you with a mixture of desire and disbelief.

"I missed the way your cock tastes in my mouth,” you said just before you slowly took him all into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his length as you began to bob your head up and down. The sensation elicited a groan from Hongjoong, his hands instinctively reaching for your hair to guide your movements.

"F-fuck," Hongjoong moaned out, his grip on your hair tightening as you continued to pleasure him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length in a way that had him seeing stars. His body was tense, filled with an anticipation that was only heightened by the rhythm of your movements. The room was filled with the sound of his ragged breathing and the wet noises of your mouth on him. His hand tugged at your hair, guiding you, setting the pace. His other hand found its way to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep control. "I... I need to be inside you," he gasped, the words barely more than a whisper. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his. There was a raw intensity in his gaze that sent a thrill coursing through you. You nodded, releasing him from your mouth with a final lick, a smirk playing on your lips as you watched him shudder at the sensation. You crawled back up his body, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the sensation eliciting a soft moan from him. Hongjoong's hands found their way to your hips, guiding you to the bed. He positioned himself on top of you, his hands gently spreading your legs. His fingers slowly explored your folds,

"You are so wet, so ready for me" he murmured in awe, his fingers brushing over your slick folds. The sensation caused you to gasp. With a sudden surge of impatience, you pulled him closer by his neck, kissing him aggressively.

"Hongjoong, I need you now," you demanded, your voice thick with desire. He positioned himself, ready to give you what you so desperately wanted. But then, he stopped, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes with a serious expression.

‘’Are you on the pill?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, not anymore," you admitted, biting your lower lip anxiously.

"Condoms?" he asked, hoping that you had some.

"I don't think I have any," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Shit, I think I have some in my wallet," he moved off you and rushed to search his wallet, which was carelessly thrown to the side earlier. After a moment, Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief as he pulled out a condom. Returning to the bed, he positioned himself above you again, his dark eyes filled with desire. You took the condom from him, your hands slightly shaking as you carefully unrolled it down his throbbing length. You guided him to your entrance, the anticipation making you shudder with pleasure. As he slowly entered you, you couldn't help but gasp at the overwhelming sensation, the feeling of him inside you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As Hongjoong began to move, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, your hands found purchase on his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. The rhythm of his movements, slow and deliberate at first, gradually picked up pace, each powerful thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and drawing moans of pleasure from your lips.

"Hongjoong whatever you do just don't stop now," you moaned, your toes curling in pleasure. His name fell from your lips again in a breathless whisper, the sound of it spurring him on. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, and your shared moans and gasps of pleasure.

"You feel so good, baby” he moaned. You felt his dick throbbing inside you, which made you clench around him, making him moan again. As your climax approached, your body tensed, your grip on him tightening. Hongjoong could sense it, and his thrusts became more powerful. "Are you going to cum for me, princess?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. Your body responded to his words before your mind could, a rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could do nothing but nod, your body taut with anticipation. Hongjoong’s movements became more deliberate, his rhythm matching your own as the tension built.

"Yes," you breathed out, the word barely escaping your lips before a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body convulsed, your grip on him tightening as you rode the waves of your orgasm. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as you rode out your orgasm, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. With a final, powerful thrust, Hongjoong groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own peak. Feeling him still buried deep inside you, you could sense the warm sensation of his cum filling the condom. Hongjoong’s head fell to the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin as he rode out the waves of his climax. The room fell silent, save for the sound of your labored breaths. He collapsed next to you, took the condom off, and threw it away. Hongjoong pulled you into his arms, and his fingers traced lazy circles on your bare skin, the sensation sending tingles down your spine. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that you hadn't seen for a long time. It warmed your heart, bringing a gentle smile to your face.

"I was going crazy without you," Hongjoong whispered his words a fervent declaration of the depth of his longing. "I missed you every single day," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as you gazed into his eyes, losing yourself in the depths of his gaze.

"You wouldn't let me forget about you," you smiled sadly, "ATEEZ were everywhere." You chuckled, the sound tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Every time I started to get a bit better, you would show up on a TV or the internet."

Hongjoong gave a bitter-sweet laugh, "I guess we're inescapable, huh?" His hand moved from your waist to cradle your face.

"I was so proud of you, Hongjoong," you confessed, your voice choked with emotion. "It just hurt that you needed to leave me to do all these amazing things."

His gaze softened at your words, his thumb gently brushing away the tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to," he admitted quietly, his voice hauntingly sincere.

"Will you stay for tonight?" you asked him, your voice quiet and hopeful. A silence hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and raw emotions. Hongjoong looked at you, his gaze soft and contemplative. It felt like an eternity before he finally responded.

"I wish I could," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "But I have to go back. There are things I need to take care of." A pang of disappointment shot through you at his words, but you understood. His world was unforgiving, with schedules and commitments that left little room for personal desires. You knew that asking him to stay was selfish, but some of you couldn't help but wish for a little more time together.

"I understand," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "But promise me this won't be the last time we see each other. Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'll come back as soon as I can." You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the tears that threatened to fall. Hongjoong planted one last kiss on your lips, before gently untangling himself from your embrace. He rose from the bed, his eyes scanning the room for his scattered clothing. You pulled a comforter from the bed around your naked body as you got up from the bed, and you walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Stay over," you tried convincing him again. "I don't want to be alone." Your lips found the back of his neck, peppering soft kisses there. Each kiss was a silent plea, a yearning for him to stay. He shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting on his skin. You knew he loved it when you kissed his neck like that. His eyes closed and a soft sigh escaped his lips, a clear sign that he was fighting the urge to stay with you. With one hand, you pulled him in closer, his back pressed against your chest. Your other hand traveled down his torso, exploring his body. You slid your hand lower, until you grabbed his cock, causing Hongjoong to let out a whimper at the sudden contact. The sound was music to your ears, a testament to the effect you had on him. This moment felt right, a perfect blend of desire and intimacy that only you two could share. As you started to pump him slowly, his cock hardened again. Kissing all over his neck, Hongjoong trembled under your touch. Your touch was gentle, yet firm, as you slowly worked him back to full erection. His reactions were immediate and intense, his body trembling under your hands. Hongjoong’s breath hitched in his throat, a soft gasp escaping his lips as you trailed kisses up and down his neck. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to set his nerves on fire, his body humming with pent-up desire.

"Feeling your dick get hard in my hand is so hot," you whispered into his ear. Hongjoong’s breath hitched at your words, he was completely at your mercy, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensations you were coaxing from him. His hands reached for you, his fingers digging into your arm as a silent plea for more. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one a testament to the pleasure you were bringing him. The room was filled with the sound of your soft murmurs and his gasps, the air heavy with desire. You took your time, savoring each reaction, each tremor that ran through him.

"I'm going to make you come so hard," you breathed against his neck, your voice filled with a promise of the pleasure to come. A shiver ran through his body at your words, anticipation causing his breath to hitch in his throat. The kisses you trailed along his neck grew more passionate, more desperate, each one a promise of the pleasure to come. He was trembling beneath your touch, his body writhing with anticipation, ready for the climax that was sure to come.

"Need... need to feel your mouth on me. Please, please," he moaned as you sped up your movements on his length. You could feel his desperation in every word, the primal need making his voice tremble. You turned his body to face you, without missing a beat, you moved down his body, trailing kisses along the way. You took him in your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate at first, earning a guttural moan from him. His hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in the locks as he guided your movements. With every moan, every gasp for breath, you could feel him lose himself in the pleasure you were giving him. It only spurred you on further, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent. Hongjoong was a moaning mess, his body tensing as he felt the precipice of his release approaching.

"God... F-fuck," he stuttered, the words tumbling out amidst irregular breaths. He looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and pleading. "Baby, I love you... Can I... Can I cum in your mouth?" your eyes met his, a soft nod of consent given as you continued your movements. The quiet room was filled with only the sounds of his heavy breaths and soft curses. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer, his hands gripping your hair tightly. "I love you... I love you so much," he gasped out, his body trembling as he reached his climax. His cum filled your mouth, the taste of him intoxicating and familiar. You swallowed it all, a sense of pride swelling within you. As his release washed over him, you could see the love and adoration in his eyes. He was open, vulnerable, and completely yours at that moment. Post-orgasmic bliss took over him, his body going limp as he tried to regain his breath. You crawled up, placing soft kisses along his chest, his jaw, his lips. Hongjoong pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly.

"I love you too, Hongjoong," you whispered, your head resting on his chest. His heart was still racing, the rhythm syncing with your own. You could feel his fingers tracing patterns on your back, a content sigh escaping his lips. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The look in his eyes said it all. He was in love, and so were you. Despite the challenges and the heartache, you belonged together. And in that moment, everything felt right. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy your embrace, his mind lost in the warmth of your touch.

"So, did that earn me your stay?" you asked playfully, a hint of mischief in your eyes as you looked up at him. Hongjoong kissed your forehead, before gently pulling away from your embrace, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he looked at you with regret-filled eyes.

"Baby I really wish I could stay, but I can't," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I have early rehearsals tomorrow. I promise I'll come back soon." He gently extricated himself from your grasp and began to get dressed.

"Don't go," you pleaded softly, your voice barely a whisper. But despite the plea in your eyes, he knew he couldn't stay. No matter how much he wanted to remain by your side, his responsibilities were calling him back.

"I don't want to leave you," Hongjoong murmured in a tone that was barely a whisper, his eyes filled with regret. "But I have to. I have responsibilities that I need to attend to." Despite the warmth of your bodies pressed together and the lingering taste of you on his lips, he knew he couldn't stay. He gave you one last look, his heart aching at the sight of your disheveled hair and the love in your eyes. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Once fully dressed, he turned back to you, his gaze soft. He walked over and pulled you into a gentle hug, his hand stroking your hair in a comforting gesture.

"I'll see you soon, I promise," he whispered into your ear before pulling away. Hongjoong gave you one last lingering look, his eyes filled with longing before he opened the door and stepped out of your apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

However, Hongjoong did not keep his promise.

four

Once again, days turned into weeks, and Hongjoong was nowhere to be found. You started to believe that your meeting was only a dream, a figment of your imagination borne out of desperation and longing. Each passing day without any word from him further reinforced this belief. The emptiness that you had once managed to keep at bay was slowly creeping back in, consuming you bit by bit. The silence was deafening, a harsh reminder of the reality you were trying to escape from. It felt as if you were trapped in a never-ending cycle of hope and despair, each passing day a test of your resilience and strength. With each passing day, a seed of doubt began to grow within you. Was it possible that Hongjoong regretted what had happened? Could it be that the promises whispered in the heat of the moment, the tender kisses and reassuring words, were nothing more than a mistake? The thought gnawed at you, casting a dark shadow over the glimmer of hope you had been clinging on to. You found yourself questioning everything, your mind a whirlpool of confusion and despair. Your days were filled with uncertainty and your nights were haunted by dreams of him. You longed for the comfort of his presence, aching for the familiarity of his touch. Yet, all you were left with was the deafening silence, a cruel reminder of the distance that had grown between you.

Three weeks had passed since you last laid eyes on Hongjoong, and the absence was fucking with your head. Questions spun around in your head like a whirlwind, each one piercing deeper than the last. Was it only the sex that he missed? You were haunted by the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating way he used to look at you. The ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, a cruel reminder of the intimacy that once existed. The silence of your phone was deafening, the man who once couldn't go a day without hearing your voice, who used to fill your inbox with loving messages, had now been reduced to radio silence. Your mind was a battlefield, memories of him clashing violently with the present reality. This was not the Hongjoong you loved and cherished, the one who held you through the darkest nights and lit up your world with his smile. This was a stranger, a phantom wearing Hongjoong's face and carrying his memories, a cruel mockery of the man you once knew.

five

On a sunny afternoon, you came back from grocery shopping and approached your apartment complex. Upon reaching your floor, you found Hongjoong leaning against your door. The sight of him waiting there, a look of nervous anticipation on his face, sent a jolt of surprise through you. The sound of grocery bags dropping onto the floor startled Hongjoong, his head snapping up to see you standing there, a look of shock and anger on your face. He quickly jogged over to help you pick up the scattered items, but you recoiled, pulling the bags away from him.

"Why are you here, Hongjoong?" You spat out his name like it was poison. "I don't want to see you," you quickly got up as you finished picking up what was left from your shopping.

"We both know you don’t mean it…" Hongjoong blurts out, a look of guilt crossing his face.

"My manager found out I came to see you," Hongjoong admitted, avoiding your gaze. "The company... they're not happy. They made me sign a contract." His voice was barely a whisper, but the words hit you with the force of a freight train. "I'm... I'm banned from dating now." His words hung heavily in the air, the final blow to the fairytale you had tried so hard to keep alive. The revelation left you speechless, your heart aching at the harsh reality of his words. You felt a cold wave of disappointment wash over you, the realization of Hongjoong's predicament hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"Banned from dating?" you echoed, the words sounding foreign on your tongue. As the weight of Hongjoong's confession settled over you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. It wasn't just the fact that he was banned from dating that stung, but the realization that he had chosen to prioritize his career over your relationship once again. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "After what happened that night, you still chose them over me?" The hurt and anger bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over at any moment. You felt like a fool for ever believing that things could be different, for allowing yourself to hope for a future that was never meant to be.

Hongjoong reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "I didn't have a choice, Y/N," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "You have to believe me. I didn't want this to happen." But his words fell on deaf ears.

"You always have a choice, Hongjoong," you retorted, your voice laced with bitterness. "You chose to sign that contract!" The tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. "You promised you would be back to see me, Hongjoong! You said you missed me and you wanted to make this right. And now this?" you exclaimed, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. The betrayal cut deep, his broken promises like salt in the wound.

"You can't just show up here after weeks of silence and expect me to be okay with this," you continued, your voice raw with emotion. "You've made your choice, Hongjoong. Now, I'm making mine. I can't do this anymore."

Your words hung heavily in the air, the finality of them echoing in the silence that enveloped the two of you. Hongjoong was left standing there, a stunned expression on his face as he processed your words. The man who was once your world, who held your heart in his hands, was now a stranger standing before you.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes were brimming with regret, the weight of his actions visibly weighing on him.

"But you did, Hongjoong," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill. "You hurt me... and the worst part is, you chose to. You chose them over me... again."

The silence that followed was deafening, the tension palpable. Hongjoong looked as if he wanted to say something, to defend himself or perhaps apologize, but no words came out. It was as if he finally realized the gravity of his actions, the damage that he had caused.

You turned your back on him, the sight of him too painful to bear. The man you loved was no more, replaced by a stranger who wore his face and held his memories. As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on you, heavy with regret and longing. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and there was no turning back.

You walked into your apartment, closing the door behind you. The finality of the sound echoing in the silent hallway. As you leaned against the door, your knees gave out, sending you sliding down to the floor. Sobs racked your body, the tears flowing freely now. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N, please," Hongjoong's voice filtered through the door, his tone desperate. "I love you, please let me in." But you couldn't bring yourself to open the door, to face him again. His words, once so comforting, now felt like a cruel mockery of what you once shared. You wrapped your arms around yourself as if to ward off the chill that had seeped into your bones.

"I can't, Hongjoong," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The silence that ensued was deafening, only broken by the occasional sob that escaped your lips. You could hear Hongjoong's muffled pleas on the other side of the door,

"Baby, I need you to understand," he began, his voice steady despite the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "I love you. In this world, it's always been you. Without you, I feel so alone. I need you to really hear me when I say that I love you." he murmured, his voice filled with so much pain that it made your heart ache.

Your cry spasmed through your body, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Between gasps for air, you managed to sob out, "I love you too." Hongjoong’s voice fell silent on the other side of the door, and you clung to the silence, hoping, praying that he had left. But then you heard it, a low, heartbreaking sob from the other side.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Hongjoong's voice was barely more than a whisper, choked with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything." You clung to the cold, hard floor, your body wracked with sobs. The apartment felt emptier than ever, the silence echoing through the space, a stark reminder of your loneliness.

"Please let me in," he tried begging again, his voice echoing through the silence. But you couldn't. You were too hurt, too betrayed. You curled up tighter on the cold floor, your heart aching as his pleas continued to echo through the small apartment.

"I...I need to go," Hongjoong finally whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. You heard his footsteps recede and the faint sound of the hallway door closing. You were finally alone, the silence in the apartment a stark reminder of the void he had left behind. In the silence of your apartment, you allowed yourself to break down completely. Your sobs echoed through the empty space, your heartache manifesting in the tears that streamed down your face. You felt the loss of him deeply like a part of you had been ripped away.

six

You had lost track of how much time had passed since you last saw Hongjoong. The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks blurred into months. Morning turned into night, and night turned back into morning, but the ache in your heart remained constant. Hongjoong’s absence was like a gaping wound that refused to heal. You found yourself going through the motions of life, putting on a brave face during the day while falling apart in the solitude of the night. Every little thing reminded you of him - a certain song on the radio, the scent of his favorite cologne lingering in the air, the way the morning sunlight streamed through the window just the way he liked it. You knew it was wrong, that you needed to move on, but it was easier said than done. The memories of him were etched deep within your heart, a part of you that you couldn’t just erase. You missed his laughter, his touch, the way he used to look at you. You missed him, and it hurt more than you ever thought possible. Try as you might, you were coping really badly without him. His absence had left a void in your life that you didn't know how to fill. You felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness. You yearned for his presence, for the comfort and familiarity that he brought into your life. Despite the heartache and the pain, you were holding on. Holding on to the hope that, maybe, with time, the pain would lessen. Holding on to the memories that brought you joy in your darkest moments. Holding on to the love that, despite everything, still lingered within your heart.

You started to go clubbing, drinking more alcohol than you should, each shot you took was a desperate attempt to erase him from your mind, to numb the pain that was threatening to consume you. You tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, in the mindless chatter and laughter around you, but all you could think about was Hongjoong. Alcohol, which was supposed to help you forget, ironically made him even more present. His name was etched on every bottle, his memory swirled in every glass, his phantom touch felt in every drunken stupor. Each night was a replay of all the moments you shared, every word exchanged, every secret whispered, every promise made.

The club was packed, the music pounding in time with your heartbeat. The smell of alcohol and sweat filled the air, mingling with the intoxicating scent of perfume. Lost in the crowd, you tried to drown out the loneliness that gnawed at your insides. Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Turning, you found yourself face to face with a stranger. He was handsome, with a warm smile and dark, inviting eyes. He offered to buy you a drink, his voice barely audible over the loud music. You nodded, accepting the drink he handed you. The alcohol burned your throat, but it was a welcome distraction from the emptiness you felt. As the night progressed, the stranger became more comfortable. He leaned in closer, his hand brushing against yours. His touch sent a jolt through your body, a feeling of excitement... and something else. Something that felt like a betrayal. The stranger leaned in for a kiss, his lips barely inches from yours. You wanted to respond, to surrender to the desire that was churning within you. But as his lips meet yours, a flash of Hongjoong's face appears in your mind. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. Suddenly, the stranger's touch felt wrong, his presence a stark reminder of what you were missing. With a gasp, you pulled away, pushing the stranger off you. You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. You turned and ran, pushing through the crowd, desperate to escape. The stranger called after you, but his voice was drowned out by the thumping music. Once outside, you leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the truth. Despite the desire to move on, to forget Hongjoong, your body seemed to have a mind of its own. You still craved his touch, his presence. It felt like your body was still his, refusing to let go, refusing to be with anyone else. It was a painful realization, a glaring reminder of the void that Hongjoong had left in your life. Staggering back to your apartment, you felt more alone than ever.

After what felt like forever, you reached your apartment complex. Stumbling through the doorway, you barely had the strength to close the door behind you. Your thoughts were a blur, the world spinning around you as the effects of the alcohol finally started to take a toll. You leaned against the wall for support, the cold surface offering a stark contrast to the warmth that was spreading through your body. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you slid down the wall, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion. You sat there, alone in the darkness, the silence of your apartment echoing the emptiness you felt inside. You pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over Hongjoong's name. Without any hesitation, feeling like you had already waited too long, you pressed the call button. The phone rang, but there was no answer. A pang of disappointment hit you, though it was an outcome you weren't entirely surprised by. You sighed, waiting for the beep before leaving a voicemail.

"Hongjoong, it's me," you began, your voice slightly shaky. "I was out clubbing, and there was this guy… We kissed and… and he wanted to take me home. But I couldn't... I couldn't because it felt like I would be cheating on you. And that just... it made me feel sick." There was a pause as you braced yourself, gathering your thoughts. "The worst thing is," you continued, your voice slightly choked, "that I would still welcome you with open arms. I miss our life together, Hongjoong. I miss you." There was another pause, a heavy silence filling the line. "I'm so sorry," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm so sorry for making you feel bad about choosing your career. I know how much you wanted what you have now. And I... I shouldn't have held you back." You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the words you knew you had to say. "And Hongjoong," you added, your voice filled with a quiet intensity, "I will never not love you." With that, you ended the call, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of your words.

In a haze, you managed to make your way to your bed, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of the mattress. The silence in the room felt overwhelming, and your mind filled with thoughts of Hongjoong. You missed him terribly, the uncertainty of his whereabouts gnawing at you. Pulling out your phone, you started to text him, your fingers clumsily typing out the words.

"Hongjoong... I miss you. I don't know where you are... and it's driving me crazy," you typed, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in your eyes. You hit send, the message disappears into the ether. Tears trickled down your cheeks, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt. You cried a deep, aching sob that echoed in the silence of the room, your body shaking with the intensity of your feelings. The room was dark, the only light coming from the screen of your phone, you picked it up and started typing another message.

"Hongjoong, I miss you."

"I need you, Hongjoong."

As you sent the message, a wave of regret washed over you. You knew you shouldn't have sent it, but the alcohol in your system and the loneliness in your heart had made you reckless.

"I still love you."

"I love you so much it hurts."

"I wish I wasn’t hurting this bad."

You dropped your phone on the bed, the screen illuminating the darkness as your messages were sent into the void, unanswered.

"I wish things were different."

The truth of your words hit you like a sledgehammer, and you broke down again, sobs shaking your body as you curled up on your bed. You cried until you fell asleep, your dreams filled with memories of Hongjoong.

seven

The crowd roared with applause as Hongjoong left the stage, his heart pounding in his chest. The energy from the audience was infectious, their cheers and screams echoing in his ears long after the music had stopped. The final show of the tour had been a resounding success, each seat filled, each ticket sold. As he walked off the stage, the reality of their success began to sink in. The bright lights, the screaming fans, the sold-out venues - it was more than he had ever dreamed of. Despite the fatigue that was beginning to set in, he couldn't help but bask in the afterglow of their performance. The excitement, the adrenaline, the sheer joy of performing - it was a feeling like no other. After all was said and done, he found himself walking through the corridors, personally thanking each member of the crew. Their faces lit up at his words of gratitude, their hard work acknowledged by their leader. The atmosphere was filled with camaraderie and mutual respect, a testament to the bond they shared. Once he had made his rounds, he finally reached his sanctuary - his dressing room. The room was dimly lit, the quiet hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. Rows of neatly hung suits, shirts, and accessories greeted him, a stark contrast to the chaos that had ensued earlier. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, the adrenaline that had been fueling him all day finally starting to wane. His body felt heavy, his mind cloudy from the day's events. He moved towards the plush leather couch sitting in the corner of the room, his legs giving way as he sank into the soft cushions. The quietness of the room enveloped him, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He let out a sigh of relief, his body sinking further into the couch as he allowed the exhaustion to take over. The day had been long and arduous, but he had made it through, and for that, he was grateful. Hongjoong reached out and picked up his phone from the bedside table. The bright screen lit up, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw your name at the top of his notifications. Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest as he played the voice message. Your voice, which he hadn’t heard in so long, laced with alcohol and desperation, echoed in his brain. His breath hitched at your confession, the image of another man touching you burning in his mind. It was a torment he hadn't prepared for, a reality he refused to accept. His grip on his phone tightened, his knuckles turning white as your words washed over him. Each syllable was like a dagger to his heart, the pain raw and unbearable. As the full weight of your words sunk in, he was left reeling, the reality of your pain and longing hitting him like a punch to the gut. He had never felt more helpless, more desperate. After hearing the voice message, he quickly clicked on the text notifications. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the messages:

my love: "Hongjoong... I misssss youuuu. Don't knoowww whereeee u r... it's drivin' me craaaazy."

my love: "Honjoong, I missss youuuu.”

my love: "I neeedd yoooo, Hongjoongg.”

my love: "I stiilll lovvee yooouu.”

my love: "I wishhh thinggs werre differrrent.”

my love: "I luvv yu sooo muchh it hurttss."

my love: "I wishh I wasn't hurtin' thiss badd."

In a heartbeat, Hongjoong got up from the sofa, the quick motion caused his head to spin. Shaking off the disorientation, he lunged for his bag, hastily gathering his belongings in a flurry of swift movements. All his thoughts were consumed by one singular goal - he needed to see you. Not bothering with changing out of his stage attire into something more casual, he embraced the urgency of the moment, allowing it to fuel his actions. He shrugged on his jacket, barely noticing the lingering sweat on his skin or the way his stage clothes clung to his body. Hongjoong’s heart pounded in his chest, as he sprinted out of the dressing room. His eyes darted around the bustling backstage area, scanning the familiar faces and chaotic scenery in search of one person. His manager. Every second was critical, each fleeting moment amplifying the urgency of his need to see you. The world around him seemed to blur into a whirlwind of colours and sounds as he navigated through the backstage chaos, his mind solely focused on his mission.

"Hongjoong, are you alright?" Minah, the stylist, asked as she approached him cautiously. She had been observing him from a distance, noting the far-off look in his eyes. It was unlike him to be this distracted, especially when they were on a tight schedule. Hongjoong didn't even notice her until she was right next to him, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. He blinked, turning to look at her with a slightly startled expression.

"Where is my manager?" he asked, his voice tense. It wasn't like him to be so curt, and Minah knew instantly that something was off. She glanced warily at him, biting her lower lip anxiously.

"He stepped out for a moment, he should be back soon," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She had been working with Hongjoong for a while now and she had never seen him this agitated before. Hongjoong nodded, his gaze wandering off again as he started scanning the room left and right. He looked like a man on edge, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Minah watched him with growing concern, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way to help. She had seen him tired, stressed, even overwhelmed at times, but she had never seen him like this. He looked like he was at his breaking point, like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. She knew better than to press him for answers, knowing that he would open up when he was ready. But as the minutes ticked by and his anxiety seemed to mount, she couldn't help but worry. Something was clearly wrong, and she felt helpless as she watched him struggle.

"Fuck it," he cursed under his breath, his thoughts racing as he rushed towards the back doors that led to the underground parking lot. Hongjoong made his way through, heading straight for the exit. At that moment, the possible consequences of his actions didn't matter to him. Just as he was about to pry open the alarmed doors, causing the alarm to ring out, he heard someone calling his name.

"Hongjoong, what do you think you're doing?" It was his manager, jogging over to him.

"I'm going back home," Hongjoong declared, his voice ringing with a determination that startled his manager. The manager, taken aback by the sudden change in his typically professional demeanor, quickly tried to regain control of the situation. He grabbed Hongjoong by the shoulder, attempting to steer him back towards the conference room where a team of publicists and stylists awaited their return.

"You aren't going anywhere, Hongjoong," his manager sternly replied, his grip tightening on Hongjoong's shoulder. "We're flying back in two days after the interviews. You know the schedule." Typically, Hongjoong was a stickler for professionalism. He understood the importance of maintaining a certain image, of fulfilling his responsibilities and keeping to the schedule. But this was not a typical situation. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, your voice in that message echoing in his ears. The sound of your soft sobs, the barely concealed panic in your voice - they haunted him. He needed to be with you, to hold you, to reassure you that everything was going to be okay.

With a firm shake of his shoulder, he freed himself from his manager's grasp, his movements abrupt and filled with a newfound, desperate energy.

"Seonghwa will take the leader role when I'm gone," he declared, his voice louder than it had been all night. "You will figure something out," he continued, his voice echoing with a resolve that hadn't been there before. Hongjoong gaze was intense, almost desperate, as he looked at his manager, it was a look they had never seen before, a look that spoke of desperation and determination that was both terrifying and heartbreaking. "Give me the keys to the car," Hongjoong demanded, his voice icily calm in contrast to the furious glint in his eyes. But his manager defied him, refusing to hand over the keys. Hongjoong was on a rampage, his usual composed demeanor replaced with a fiery rage that was starting to consume him. His vision blurred, the edges tinged with red as his frustration escalated."I NEED to go!" Hongjoong shouted, his voice filled with an urgency that cut through the tense silence.

"You're not thinking straight, Hongjoong," his manager retorted, his tone laced with frustration and concern. "You can't just abandon everything and run off. Think about the consequences!"

"I don't care about the consequences!" Hongjoong snapped, his patience wearing thin. "This is more important!"

"Oh, is it?" his manager sneered, a manipulative glint in his eyes. "Remember, Hongjoong, I can ruin you. I can leak your little secret to the press. Imagine the scandal, the headlines... ''ATEEZ's leader, Kim Hongjoong, abandons tour to chase after ex-girlfriend.'' How do you think the fans will react?" Hongjoong knew it was a threat, a blatant attempt to control him, but the reality of the situation was that his manager held the power to destroy his career.

Hongjoong's heart pounded in his chest, his blood running cold at his manager's words. He gritted his teeth as he cut off his manager's words.

"How do you know it's about her?" he demanded, his voice harsh. A cold dread washed over him as he considered the implications. How was it even possible for his manager to know you had contacted him? After all these months of radio silence, how could he possibly know? His manager shrugged, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I have my ways," he said cryptically. "Besides, it's not like I don't know what she still means to you." The words stung, a harsh reminder of the heartache Hongjoong had been trying to bury. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you," his manager said smugly, dangling the car keys in front of him. With a sigh, Hongjoong snatched the keys from his hand, his determination unwavering. He would face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be, as long as it meant he could be there for you.

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong didn't care about professionalism or the implications of his actions. He didn't care about the shocked expressions of his manager and the other staff members. He didn't care about the potential backlash or the consequences he might face. This time, all he cared about was you.

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez au #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez x y/n #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you

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revui · 5 months

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I'm still mad about the bastardization of psychological terms, and I saw a post earlier that inspired me to expand upon it. Here's a quick guide on what certain psychological terms do and do not mean, from someone with an education in psychology, not that you need one to know and understand this. I am open to additions and corrections.

Important note for if this post gets noticed: I am making blanket statements. I do not care if your abuser was "actually a diagnosed narcissist." That is irrelevant and meaningless to the purpose of this post, which is to help prevent the spread of misunderstandings, negative stigma, and the watering-down of important terms.

Psychotic refers to a person who has delusions or hallucinations, or otherwise is in a state of mind where they cannot determine reality. Psychotic does NOT mean: dangerous, emotionless, unkind, nonsensical. Someone who is mean or callous is not psychotic. A person you find strange is not psychotic.

Delusions are beliefs that either have no evidence of being true or actively contradict reality. A delusion can be believing you are under constant surveillance, that you have died, that you never existed at all, that you are a powerful or religious figure, etc. Delusional does not mean: wrong, strange, unintelligent. Someone who likes something you think is bad is not delusional. A person who holds a belief you don't understand is not delusional.

Unprofessional Aside: Stop saying "delulu." It's embarrassing.

Schizophrenia is a mental disorder generally characterized by repeated episodes of psychosis. Schizophrenia is more complicated than I can responsibly describe in the space of this post. People are schizophrenic. Objects and concepts cannot be schizophrenic. Disorganized, chaotic, and hard to understand are not the same as schizophrenic. People with schizophrenia are not: dangerous, inhuman, completely incoherent, unable to function*.

Narcissism is a personality disorder generally characterized by an exaggerated sense of uniqueness and a need for external validation or admiration. Narcissists may have little or no empathy. There is no such thing as narcissistic abuse. Abuse performed by a diagnosed narcissist is still normal abuse**. Someone who is mean, selfish, or unaware is not a narcissist. Someone who wants attention is not a narcissist. Someone who takes pride in their achievements or appearance is not a narcissist.

Empathy is the ability to feel other people's emotions. Empathy is not the same thing as kindness, nor is it a prerequisite for kindness. People with diminished empathy are not: callous, emotionless, selfish. Diminished empathy is not a flaw. It does not make someone incapable of understanding people or forming relationships.

ASPD is a personality disorder generally characterized by diminished empathy and disregard for others. People with ASPD may display reckless behavior or aggression. This does not mean they are: dangerous, irredeemable, uniquely awful, deserving death.

Psychopathy and sociopathy are contested terms. They are sometimes used to mean ASPD, but they are not diagnoses. Definitions vary wildly. Sometimes they are used as synonyms of each other, sometimes they are distinguished. I do not know if there is a consensus on what these words mean and would appreciate further input.

Intrusive thoughts are unpleasant, uncontrollable thoughts that can revolve around violence, murder, self-harm, suicide, sex, bigotry, and any other subjects the thinker finds taboo or unwelcome. An intrusive thought is something you don't WANT to do or don't WANT to think about. Getting angry and wanting to express your anger by punching the wall is not an intrusive thought. Wanting to dye your hair a weird color is not an intrusive thought. The key factor of an intrusive thought is that one has no desire to think or act upon it. An intrusive thought can sometimes develop into an obsession.

OCD or obsessive-compulsive disorder is characterized by obsessions (persistent, unpleasant thoughts, such as getting sick, loved ones dying, making sexual advances on someone, etc.) and compulsions (routines usually meant to cope with or "prevent" the subject of the obsession, such as skin-picking, repeating actions, hand washing, etc.). People with OCD may be aware of the irrationality but awareness does not automatically lead to prevention; telling someone with OCD that they are irrational is not helpful. A desire for completeness, satisfaction, organization, or cleanliness is not the same thing as OCD.

If you are not an educated psychologist or psychiatrist acting in a clinical setting from an objective perspective, you cannot diagnose anyone. If you have any interest at all in helping mentally ill people, you will learn what words mean and use them correctly. I'm tired and angry so if I've made mistakes I am BEGGING people to let me know.

*As I said at the beginning, these are all blanket statements. This statement is referencing the idea of the "padded cell," or that all schizophrenics are fundamentally incapable of having a place in society and must be locked away. There do exist schizophrenics who need high levels of support, and that is not what I was referring to. They and all other people who depend on external support for any reason are not lazy or worthless.

**People argue that symptoms of NPD influence the way in which an abuser hurts people. That does not mean narcissistic abuse exists. The disorder doesn't matter; the person would still be abusive without it.

#levi rambles #actually psychotic #psychosis #schizophrenia #npd #aspd #ocd #long post

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justsomerandomfanfic · 6 months

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Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away - Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Title: Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away

Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Pete the Chef OC and Marie OC

WC: 2,917

Warnings: A bit of obsession, maybe stalking maybe not?, Reader is a waitress and is mentioned wearing a skirt for work, teasing, flirting?, serial killer stuff mentioned very briefly, Reader has very brief negative thoughts, age gap, mini angst, and fluff

The uniform beat of the clock was the only sound in the room as it ticked away. It seemed to echo throughout Steve Raglan's office. The silence was unnerving, and the ticking of the clock seemed to be a constant reminder of the fact that time was indeed slowly crawling forward with each minute that passed.

Sitting in his swivel chair, Steve glanced over some client files, occasionally humming to himself as he used his feet to turn himself in his chair; side to side. Letting out a silent sigh, he closed the dull yellow file and sat it on his desk with the others. Pushing up the bridge of his gold-framed aviator glasses, Steve looked up at the clock. Upon reaching his scheduled lunch break, he pushed himself off the chair before grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. Adjusting his tie as he left his office, he walked down the hall, passing other offices before exiting the large building.

It was a bright afternoon, though Steve hardly noticed as he made his way down the sidewalk, a certain confidence in each step. As he walked, he passed by the local flower shop, which stood beside a small bookstore, before crossing the street and the busy intersection to pass by the park. This was a part of Steve's routine, every weekday since about a couple of months ago. He always left his office at the same time for lunch, passed the same shops and stores, and entered the same diner for that said lunch.

Pushing the glass door open, Steve walked in, only to sit down at his usual spot. Though the restored diner from the 1960s was practically in new shape, the edges of the red leather booth where Steve sat were beginning to peel from age. The menu board was still hung up behind the counter, along with other posters, antique metal signs of cars, and other things that had been in the diner longer than Steve cared to really care about. The jukebox in the corner was softly playing a song, ‘Put Your Head On My Shoulder,’ a song by Paul Anka. The walls were a pastel blue, red, and white, with some white tile detailing here and there.

Going to the diner was routine for him, as said before, he went there every weekday to get his lunch. But he didn't go because the food was out of this world, or to appreciate the aesthetic of the place or anything like that. No, he came for you.

You were a waitress at the tiny diner, dressed in the typical 1960s waitress attire, you scurried to the awaiting people, pouring their drinks and serving their food. Sure, there were other waitresses there, but they weren't you. No, there was something special about you that made Steve want to come there every day for the sake of seeing you. You were beautiful, with bright, sparkling eyes, and soft lips that spoke words so sweetly. You just gave off a feeling that made you stand apart, an aura of warmth and affection. So Steve took a liking to you. And he couldn't understand why he did, no matter how hard he tried. He just felt drawn to you. Like magnetite to a magnet.

Walking out of the backroom, you froze, seeing Steve sitting in his usual booth, hands clasped, looking out the window. Letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, you felt your heart begin to race. Oh, what that man did to you, even just his presence alone brought a smile to your face. Brushing down your waitress skirt, you didn't bother to grab your notepad and pen from your skirt pocket as you walked over. You knew his order well. Well enough that you had it memorized; a BLT and a cup or two of black coffee.

Stepping in front of the table, the man looked up, your smile softened slightly, "Good afternoon, Steve. Do you want your usual?" You asked, and what you had asked him practically every day since he came into the little diner a couple of months ago.

The man gave you a small grin back, his clasped hands shifting slightly, making you look down at the movement; his sleeves were pushed back above his elbows, strong forearms exposed. Steve noticed your gaze, his eyes glancing down at your mouth as you bought your bottom lip in between your teeth, "Good afternoon, Y/N. Yes, I would like my usual." He answered, his words making you look back into his blue eyes before you cleared your throat nervously.

You gave him a nod, bits of stray hairs falling in front of your face as you did so, "... Alright, I'll make sure that it arrives soon." With one last look at him, brushing the stray hairs behind your ears, you headed towards the kitchen.

Steve watched you go, staring after you until you disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. He sighed quietly as he leaned back in his seat. Meanwhile, you leaned against the wall near the kitchen door, letting out a breath as you pressed your hand on your chest, feeling your racing heart pound and hammer against your chest. Taking one last breath, you got a hold of yourself, pushing through the large kitchen to find Pete, the chef.

Peering past a metal counter, you smiled at the old man who was mixing some sort of salad, "Hey, Pete," You grinned, "We got a seven and a black coffee." You spoke, gaining the man's attention. Pivoting his weight to his hip, he placed a hand there, tilting his head as he took in your expression; but mostly your eyes. He could tell that something was going on.

"He's here, isn't he?" Pete asked, watching your face flush, as you glanced and looked everywhere but at him, his grin widened.

"Yeah, Pete, he is. Can I please just get his order? Please, no teasing." You begged with a slight whine to your voice.

Pete, an old man in his sixties, had been working at the diner since he was in his twenties; and had been sort of a cool uncle figure to you, only shrugged his shoulders. Turning back around, he began to prepare Steve's order. "Sure thing, dearie," He replied softly, chuckling lightly. "You should probably head over and get him his coffee, don't want Marie to get to him before you do. She won't be so merciful."

Nodding your head you rushed out of the kitchen, heading behind the counter, passing Marie, who only grinned as you passed by her. Pouring the black coffee, you let out one last breath, mentally hyping yourself up before you walked back over to Steve.

He raised his head, meeting your eyes as you carefully sat the coffee down in front of him. "Thank you, Y/N." He spoke, giving you the same small smile that made you want to melt.

"You're welcome, Steve. Is there anything else you'd like while you wait? We just added a blueberry pie to the menu this morning." You asked, but the man just shook his head, his intense gaze unmoving as he gave you a small toothy grin.

"No, I'm alright."

Nodding, you gestured back to the kitchen, "I'll, uh, go check up on your food then."

Rushing back to the kitchen, you found Marie inside, Pete still working on the bacon portion of Steve's order. Marie turned to you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "He's here." She sang in a soft sing-song voice, smirking.

Throwing your hands up, you huffed, "Yes, that's quite obvious. He's here every day at twelve-thirty on the dot." You retorted.

Marie laughed, shaking her head, "I just find it funny is all."

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Pete began to chop up a tomato. "What's funny?"

"That you get so flustered around him." She answered, making you look down at your feet.

Marie had been your best friend since you were both in high school. She had been in the same few classes with you, and the both of you had gotten along great, even going to the same college. Later, you both tried going your separate ways, but this town had some pull on the both of you - so you both ended up working at the diner after a while of job searching. She was usually the voice of reason, the one you looked up to whenever you had a difficult question or task. She really was a great friend.

"I try not to be." You answered simply, turning to Pete, "Is his sandwich ready?" You asked as the man nodded, stabbing the red foil-tipped toothpick in the center of the bread; topping it all off.

“This might be the best one yet.” Pete marveled, staring down at his sandwich with pride, but without another word, you grabbed the plate with the BLT and pushed the kitchen door open.

Walking over with his food, you felt your irritation fade away as Steve looked up, his grin growing. Placing the food down in front of him, you noticed that his coffee cup was empty. Gesturing to it, you spoke, "Would you like a refill?"

"Yes, thank you," He spoke, watching as you quickly grabbed the coffee pot from the counter across from him, pouring more of the coffee into his cup. "How has your day been, Y/N?" He asked, you had been preparing yourself for today's conversation.

"It's been alright," You said, your voice soft. A nervous chuckle escaped you before you continued, "Just trying to keep busy. How's everything with you?" You asked, hoping to change the subject a bit.

“The same as usual, I'm afraid." He answered, similar to what he told you every time you asked him how he was.

"Well," You cleared your throat, "I'll let you eat. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" You asked, smiling slightly, giving him one last look before walking back to the counter.

"Of course..." He muttered, mostly to himself, watching as you slid behind the counter with your co-worker, grabbing a rag and beginning to clean the marble with it.

Looking down at the table, his sandwich seemed to stare right up at him. Picking it up with both hands, he bit into his BLT, taking a moment before letting his eyes wander the room before they settled on you once more. Watching as you talked with your co-worker, a smile on your face and hers. The co-worker occasionally glanced over at him, making him turn back to stare at his table, chewing his sandwich slowly. Straining his ears, he tried to listen in on your conversation.

"He's staring at you again," Marie spoke under her breath, "It's kind of creepy."

Hitting her arm with the rag, you lightly glared at her, "Don't be rude. Or too loud… He might hear you…"

"What?" She asked defensively, "It is, he's looking at you like a creep."

"And what about that? Should I be worried?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow as you went back to rubbing at the counter in front of you. “I think it’s sweet,” You muttered, and Marie didn’t seem to notice.

Sighing, she shook her head, crossing her arms, "I mean, maybe? Who knows? Maybe he's some serial killer."

You sputtered a laugh, raising your hand to cover your mouth, "You're ridiculous, Marie. He may be a bit… Antisocial, but that does not mean he’s some crazy murderer.”

Marie sighed again, glancing back over at him, "He’s still staring."

"I doubt it." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I'm not someone to stare at."

Marie stared at you, raising her eyebrow, "Girl, you're gorgeous. Shut up. And he is, look."

Rolling your eyes at her, you worried on your lip as you glanced over at him, noticing that he was indeed staring at you. It wasn't hard to notice that fact, with how much his eyes were locked onto yours, especially when you could almost feel them piercing through you. Your cheeks flushed with heat, as your stomach twisted and flipped. You dipped your head, biting into your lip with a bit more force so as not to let the growing smile slip onto your face.

"I might do something risky," You muttered, your voice soft, breathless. Marie noticed, raising both her eyebrows this time in surprise. “I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while…”

"Oh, wow, he's really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he? You're whipped."

You shook your head, twisting the rap between your hands, straining your fingers slightly with the force, "No, I'm not."

"You're whipped. Smitten. Absolutely enamored. You've got the hots for this guy." She continued to tease, making you let out a deep sigh, tossing the rag down on the counter. "What are you planning to do exactly, hon?" She then asked, noticing that she really wasn't helping you in this situation.

"I might give him my number." You muttered, taking a quick glance over to see him finishing his coffee; plate clean. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile, taking in his perfect features. His dark hair, sprinkled with gray, looked so soft. It looked like it would be great to run your fingers through it. Your hand moved to the front of your head, pulling on a loose strand of hair before returning it behind your ear. You wondered, as you stared at him, if his beard would be soft or rough... “Oh God...” You murmured under your breath.

Marie took a step forward, placing a hand on your arm, snapping your gaze back to her, "Hon... Uh, you don't have to listen to me… But isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

You tilted your head at her, confusion etching onto your face, "Too old?"

She nodded her head, "Yea, y'know, he's like forty or fifty or somethin'. There’s a pretty big age gap between you two.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, your lips parted slightly, sort of speechless. "Marie... I don't care how old he is... I don't care about age gaps. If I was like eighteen, then yeah, that would be a problem to me, but I am twenty-five... I just... I don't know… As long as we are two consenting adults… I- uh…" You trailed off. “You’re stressing me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Marie smiled sweetly, patting you on the shoulder gently, "Don't mind me then. I just want you to be a bit cautious… That is, unless he's super rich, then I say go for it.” You shook your head, letting out a small chuckle, before nodding your head towards the man in question.

"I should check on him. His lunch break is almost over." Marie watched you go, sighing before she left for the kitchen. Walking over, Steve sat his empty coffee cup down, looking up at you with a small grin, a strange glint in his eyes. "Ready for the bill, Steve?" You asked.

"I believe so," He sighed, grabbing into his jacket pocket beside him to grab his wallet. "Same as always?" He asked, and you hummed in confirmation. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, trying to ignore the sudden tingling feeling in your stomach at the contact. Stuffing the ten in your pocket, you pulled out a ten dollar bill. But, Steve only shook his head, “You keep that.”

Nodding with a small, grateful smile, you nodded, “Thank you, Steve.”

Shaking his head, he stood, "You don’t have to thank me. Your service was excellent, as always." He said simply, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Thank you," You muttered softly, blinking rapidly before you stuffed the money into your pocket, quickly opening your notepad and writing something down.

Steve watched you curiously as he adjusted the collar of his coat before you ripped the paper from the small notebook and handed it to him; unable to meet his gaze. He opened it slowly, his eyes reading and rereading the number - he could only assume it was your number - that you had haphazardly written down for him; though you were quick to write it, it was still neat and Steve could read it easily. Looking up at you, you finally managed to glance back up at him.

Folding the note, Steve slid it in his pocket, "I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked simply, watching as you nodded. He hummed, glancing around the features of your face before he found himself raising his hand, brushing the stubborn wisps behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lingering a second too long on the softness of your cheek before he pulled away. Your eyes widened a fraction, your lips opening slightly as a small, inaudible gasp left you. Steve swallowed thickly, swiftly turning on his heel before he lost what little control he had over himself, walking out of the diner, the door shutting behind him.

Standing there, you stared after him, letting out a sigh. What was that? Not that you were complaining. You slowly raised your hand, brushing your fingers along the same trail that he had touched moments ago, feeling the warmth. He had been so gentle and careful and... So warm. It felt good. You couldn't help but smile lightly. You hoped that he'd call you.

And he would. You'd be hearing from him soon. Very soon.

#cute #fluff #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #fanfic #x you #x y/n #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #william afton #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton x female reader #william afton x you #william afton x y/n

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kengan-daddies · 7 months

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The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Taglist: @zeniiis

Anime : Baki: Son of Ogre Character : Baki Hanma Warnings : Possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, murder of a major character, mention of suicide

The Boy Next Door Baki Hanma x Motherly! Older Reader

You and Baki were walking through the streets on a Friday night, it was a beautiful night and the wind was slightly chilly, so you wore a light jacket and a long skirt to stay warm but also cute. Your hair was down and loose letting the wind blow through it. You were laughing at one of Baki's jokes; he was funny, making the evening lively. People walked up and down the streets, of all ages, heights, weights, and aesthetics, some with friends others on dates, and some even alone. You were on Baki's right and he was on your left, he was holding a few bags in his hand as he walked with you, having just come back from the convenience store with you.

You looked around at all the lights and the signs, you stared at everything with a thoughtful stare. "You know, no matter how many years go by, I'll never get tired of seeing this same view." You spoke. He looked down at you in question before he looked up at all the lights and the signs. "I guess, it's just pretty common and normal to me." He said with a shrug. You smiled. "Yeah, I was the same way when I was your age, I didn't really care about it like I do now. I used to just see it as an everyday thing, same ol' same ol'. I never thought to think of it as a beautiful thing to see. I never thought to look at it like that, ya know?" You said.

His eyes shifted around the area, soaking in the scene and your words, he couldn't understand what you were saying, and you knew he didn't but you didn't mind. He watched your soft smile and eyes shine, he wanted to understand, but he just couldn't. "I know you don't understand what I'm saying, and that's okay. But one day, maybe you will, it's just a matter of time before you do, ya know... I love people, I love watching them be their most natural selves. It makes me feel not so alone anymore... It's hard to explain in a way that doesn't make me sound lonely and depressed." You said with a chuckle. He looked at you with a somber look on his face.

"I'd never judge you so negatively, I see you as my role model you're everything I want to be and so much more. You're so amazing, caring, loving, and selfless... That's who I strive to be... I want to be just as open-minded as you are, I want to be just like that... But it's hard." He explained as he stared ahead of himself. You listened to his words, the look on his face was distant, like he was seeing another version of himself. You wrapped your arm around his making him look down at you in question. "Baki... You're amazing just the way you are... never think any less about yourself... You're young and you're still learning who you are, your outlook on life and on yourself is going to change, and you'll become the best version of yourself if you strive for it... Just never be afraid of change and never be afraid to take a leap of faith, otherwise, you'll get stuck." You spoke.

He looked down at you for a moment before he looked away and he smiled, he leaned into you, making you both sway a bit. "I'll keep that in mind, Mom... I'll make sure to strive and reach for my higher self, and I'll shine like a star." He said playfully, you chuckled as you wrapped your arm around his a little tighter. "I know you will, Baki... I know you will."

The Boy Next Door

Baki walked down the street, wearing his school uniform, his bag over his shoulder, and his other hand in his pocket. He was relaxed, he was pleased, he was content. He felt blessed, he had a loving mother, a warm home, constant laughter, warm meals, and movie nights. It was like a dream come true. He looked up at the sky and he smiled with a happy sigh. 'This is amazing... I never want this dream to ever end.' He happily thought as he walked along the street, he turned the corner and blended in with the crowd.

'Hmm, I wonder what we'll have for dinner tonight.' He thought as he walked among the people. The slow drifting clouds were large and fluffy, the sky a deep blue and the breeze was lovely. He closed his eyes as he soaked in the moment. 'I feel so free... So... Normal... Huh... I guess I've never actually felt normal... I never thought about it. It's strange, but I love it.' He thought. He looked ahead of himself and he blinked in surprise when he saw Kozue.

She was walking ahead of him, she seemed to be deep in thought as she walked alone, her school uniform standing out like a sore thumb. He stared at her, his stare serious as he looked at her. 'I meant what I said, Kouze... I won't let anyone get between me and my mother, no matter who you are... I just hope you can understand.' He thought.

The Boy Next Door

You were at home, your boss decided to be nice for a change and he he gave you the day off, and you took advantage of it to the fullest. You made Baki breakfast, fed the dog, and bid Baki farewell before he left for school. You cleaned a little, collected a few dishes from Baki's room from his late-night snacking, vacuumed the house, cleaned the kitchen, and took the dog for a walk. Now you were sitting on the couch, the dog lying on your lap as you watched TV. You were comfortable deep into your program.

A sudden knock on your door nearly made you jump, the dog jumped up and trotted to the door looking back at you expectantly, you sighed as you paused the TV, you got up and walked to the door, you looked out the spy hole and you saw a young man, his hair was short and black, the sides looked freshly shaven. You creaked the door open, enough to poke your head out, he stared at you, seemingly in shock. "Yes?... May I help you?" You asked. His eyes studied you intensely. "Wow... So you are real." He muttered. You gave him a shocked stare.

"Huh?" You asked, he shook his head and he flashed you a charming smile. "Hi, I'm looking for Baki Hanma, is he here?" He asked. You stared at him skeptically as you answered. "No, sorry, you just missed him." You said. He nodded as he looked down for a moment and he looked back at you. "Well, whenever he comes back, could you tell him I stopped by?... I need to speak with him." He said. You nodded your head as you looked over his features. "Yeah, I'll relay the message to him, can I have your name?" You asked you were slightly defensive but you couldn't help it, you've grown protective of Baki, and this young man shows up asking for your son.

He didn't seem bothered by it and he gave you an understanding smile. "Katsumi Orochi." He answered. You nodded as he stared him down with a shocked stare. "I know you." You said. His brows shot up. "You do?" He asked. Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised but he couldn't help it, you didn't look like the kind of woman who would be into martial arts. You nodded your head. "Yeah, Baki spoke about you a while back, something about... a ..." You trailed off as you opened the door wider, you stared at him intensely, his missing arm sending realizing tingles up the back of your spin up your neck and over your brain.

His hand covered the nub and you looked away, feeling awkward and ashamed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to- " You were cut off when he chuckled. "It's fine, it truly is, I'm not surprised that Baki spoke to you about Pickle, he truly was an astonishing creature." He said as he looked up from his missing limb and he smiled at you. You smiled back at him. You chuckled to yourself as you looked down at your feet, your hands rubbing over your thighs, you looked back up at him as you pushed the door open wider. "Would you like to come in?... I still have some breakfast left over from this morning... I'll have to brew some more coffee though." You said through a light chuckle.

He smiled at you in return. "I would like that." he said.

The Boy Next Door

Baki sat in class, a bored look on his face as he stared out the window. 'The sky still looks pretty much the same as it did this morning.' He thought as he watched the large, puffy clouds slowly drift by. He looked down some, seeing the upper half of the skyscraper buildings from over the trees. 'I wonder what Mom is doing right now?... Knowing her, she's probably sleeping, she did say that she had the day off today... maybe she's watching TV, I wonder what she's watching.' He thought as he pictured you lying in bed asleep, or sitting on the couch watching TV. He smiled softly to himself as he pictured you going about your day doing your usual things.

He chuckled lightly to himself as he looked up with a dazed stare. 'I'm pretty sure she already found my dishes from last night, hopefully, she'll forget and I won't get a lashing from her.' he thought fondly, he looked towards the front of the class and he saw the teacher teaching something to the class. 'If I could, I'd skip the whole day, and use it to get stronger... I have to get stronger... I have a real purpose now... At first, it was to beat my dad and make my 'mother' proud so that she'll love me... then it went to wanting to beat my dad to avenge my mother... Then... It went to wanting to protect Kozue and keeping her safe... and now, it's to protect my mother.'

He thought, his gaze sharpen. 'I have to stay strong enough to keep her safe, she's my world... something that I was robbed of for so long, and now I get to finally have it... A mother's love... She should've been my mother from the start, she wouldn't have blindly followed dad, chasing after him like a drug addict, she would've made me her first priority, and she would've been a real mother... unlike her.' He thought, he looked over and he saw Kozue, she slightly flinched when she noticed that he caught her looking back at him. She quickly straightened up and she began acting like she was jolting down notes. He stared at her, a blank yet thoughtful stare.

'Kozue... I don't need your love anymore... I have something more pure now... You'll get in the way... between me and Mom.' He thought as he stared at her. She seemed so small in her chair, it was almost like she could feel his stare. 'She's a great girlfriend, but she wasn't enough... I love her though... I'll always love her... So long as she stays in her lane, I won't have to get rid of her.' He thought before he looked back out the window. Kozue timidly looked over her shoulder, her slightly curious yet fearful gaze looked back at Baki, he was staring out the window, a serious gleam in his eyes yet he seemed so relaxed.

'Baki... What's gotten into you?' She thought as she looked at him in worry.

The Boy Next Door

Katsumi sat on the couch next to you, and the Dog sat in between you both, you were slightly facing one another as you drank down the rest of your coffee. You placed your cup down and you looked over at him. "So, what brings you down here this morning?" You asked him, he swallowed his own gulp and he sighed. "I wanted to speak to him about Pickles." He said. You stared at him with a questioning stare. "Pickles? The caveman, why?" You asked him. He looked down at his cup, seeing his reflection in the light brown liquid. "Pickles disappeared from his confinement, I don't think he's dangerous, but I just want Baki to be aware." He explained.

You looked at him with a pensive gaze before you looked off with a worried stare. "So... Is Baki in danger?" You asked him as you timidly looked back over at him. He shook his head. "No, not at all, in fact, it could be the opposite actually." He said. You tilted your head. "The 'opposite'?" You asked. He nodded his head. "That's right, I feel that Pickles wants to keep up with Baki, almost to keep him safe in a way actually." He explained. You shook your head slightly in confusion. "That's sweet and all, but why?" You asked. "I mean, it doesn't make sense, you know." You added. He looked over at you. "I know, but once you get involved with Baki, nothing makes sense anymore." He said. You looked at him with a concerned yet curious stare before you sighed and picked up your cup,

"I love Baki like my own son... and if loving him means going down this winding path, then so be it." You said in a determined voice, your gaze held him and he gave you a smile. "You're a great mother, Baki sure knows how to pick 'em." He said with a slight chuckle. You gave a small chuckle at his words and you took a sip from your drink, he mimicked you in action and he took a sip too.

The Boy Next Door

Baki sat on the school roof, his bento half eaten, his gaze on the sky as he chewed his mouth full. 'What'll me and Mom cook for dinner today?' He wondered. He sat there in silence a while longer before he opened his mouth and ate another mouthful. 'Mmmm, damn she's one good cook.' He complimented as he delightfully chewed his mouthful. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he lazily looked over his eyes shining in recognition when he saw Kozue. She stared at him with her usual pensive stare when she was suspicious of him.

"Hey, Kozue." He greeted. She sighed as she stared him down a little longer before she walked over towards him, he watched her approach him slowly before she stopped before him. He gave her a lazy smile. "Sup, Kozue. What brings you up here?" He asked her. She stared at him, her eyes observing everything around him, the half-eaten bento, his relaxed poster, his unreadable yet distant eyes... "What's gotten into you, Baki?" She asked him. He blinked in confusion as he tilted his head. "What kind of question is that?" He asked her. Her hands tightened into fists.

"You know what I mean, your Mom... You haven't been the same since you moved in with her." She said her voice sounding defensive. His eyes seemed to slightly darken, and her eyes widened at the gaze. 'That's the look... That's the look he gave me... The last time I was with him... Why?' She thought as fear gripped her throat. "Kozue... Are you trying to tell me... that my Mother... Is a bad influence?" He questioned, his voice dangerously calm, his face emotionless as his eyes shined dangerously. Her breath hitched as she stared at him in fear, she held his gaze trying to hide her fears but the longer she stared at him the more she began to slightly break. "No, Baki... I-. I'm just worried is all." She said desperately.

He stood up from his spot, his gaze locked onto her as he looked down at her. "So, are you saying... That you want us to separate... Are you trying to get in between me and my Mother?" He asked. She slowly shook her head in disbelief before she shook her head an answer. "No, Baki... I'm not trying to do any of that!! I'm just trying to understand why you're acting like this." She said, her voice rising slightly as she crossed her arms. He stepped towards her making her step back. "Acting like what, Kozue?... I've been the same as ever." He said. She shook her head. "NO!! You're not, you're not acting like yourself at all... E-ever since you moved in with Y/N-" She was cut off by him.

"Miss (L/N)" He corrected her. She looked off in annoyance before she looked back at him. "WHATEVER!! YOU'RE NOT YOURSELF, BAKI!! LOOK AT YOU!!" She shouted. "I am myself, it's just not a version of myself you've ever seen before." He calmly explained. She scoffed. "RIGHT!! LIKE YOU TOTALLY DIDN'T THREATEN ME!!" She shouted as she stared at him with an accusing stare. "And I'll do it again." He said, the seriousness in his voice made her stare at him in shock and disbelief. "... Do you hear yourself right now?" She asked with a scoff. He nodded his head. She shook hers. "I don't think you do... Baki, you speak about her like she's actually your mother... She's just some woman who took you in because she felt sorry for you." She said, anger and annoyance clouding her judgment.

"She took me in because she loved me." He defended. "NO!! She took you in, because she was a lonely, single woman who wanted children, but was too pitiful to go out and actually find a man to give her one." She said, anger in her voice her eyes glossy. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes darkened and his face became deadly. He stepped towards her quickly, his hands gripping her upper arms tightly making her wince in pain. He brought his face close to hers, their noses almost touching. "Baki... You're hurting me." She whined.

"Shut up." He muttered angrily as he lightly shook her, his grip tightening. "Don't you ever, and I mean ever, speak of her like that ever again... She knows me, better than you'll ever know me... She accepts me in ways, that you'll never be able to... She actually tries to understand me and actually supports me, something you never did... I owe her my life... I deserve happiness, I deserve a loving mother, a warm home, a cooked meal... I earned it, and I'm not going to let anyone get in between us." He spoke dangerously low. She whined and winced in pain as he shook her throughout his speech. "You're crazy... Let me go." She spoke in desperation as she struggled against his hold, but he just held on tighter.

His eyes lit in understanding. "I see now... You're trying to get in between us... You're trying to separate us... My own girlfriend." He spoke in disbelief. She looked at him in shocked confusion. "What are you talking about? I'm not trying to-" She was cut off when he suddenly began to walk with her. "I won't let anyone get in between us, never." "Baki?" "I won't let you or anyone get in the way of our happiness." "Baki, what are you doing?" "I'll get rid of anyone and anything that'll ever try and get in between us." "BAKI, STOP!!" "I won't let anyone ever separate us ever again." "Baki? Baki!? BAKI WAIT, DON'T DO IT, STOP!! STOP!! STO-!!"

Her screams went ignored by deaf ears as he carried her over the small concrete wall that acted as a border to keep people from falling over. His grip tightened and with a twist of his spin, he threw her over the side of the building. Watching her panicked and scared face slowly become smaller and smaller before it became numb with death.

The Boy Next Door

You and Katsumi laughed as you opened the door to the apartment, he stepped out with a pleased smile while you leaned against the frame. "Thanks for the Coffee and breakfast (L/N)." He said, you fanned him off. "Call me (Y/N), we're pretty much friends now." You said. He gave a soft chuckle at your words. "Then you can call me Katsumi." He said. You smiled in response. "Way ahead of ya." You playfully said his brows shot up as he nodded in agreement. He looked off and his smile grew familiar yet he seemed slightly surprised. "Baki? What're you doing home so early, man?" He asked, you snatched your head and you saw Baki, his bag over his shoulder as he stared at Katsumi in confusion.

"Baki, why aren't you in school?" You asked him. He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "There was a major accident at school, they think it's a casual case of suicide." He said. Both you and Katsumi looked shocked at that. "WHAT!?" "Damn." You both spoke, you more shocked while Katsumi was more calm. "What happened?" You asked him. He shrugged. "Not sure, some girl took a swan dive off the roof and she ended her life." He said. "Wow, that's some heavy stuff." Katsumi said. You nodded your head. "Yeah, I can't imagine how sad her parents would be." You said. Katsumi nodded in agreement. Baki walked closer to you both a questioning gaze on his face.

"So what's up, Katsumi?... Not hittin' on my Mom... are you?" He asked, his head tilting some in a challenge. Katsumi chuckled as he waved him off. "No, nothing like that, I'm here to speak with you." He said with a chuckle. 'What's up with that aura?... It's so sinister.' Katsumi thought as he observed Baki, his smile hiding his thoughts. You nodded your head. "Yeah, he came early this morning, but he just missed you, so we got to know each other, while we waited for you, Baki." You explained. He nodded his head in understanding, the sinister aura dissipating slightly. "Why didn't you just leave once you realized I wasn't home?" He asked. "Simple, because I'm a gentleman, your mother invited me in to have breakfast and coffee with her, and who am I to turn down such a beautiful woman?" He said in a smooth voice as he looked over at you. You rolled your eyes playfully as you fanned him off.

"Oh stop it." You said a playful smile on your face. He chuckled playfully. "I'm serious, not every day I meet a MILF." He said. You looked at him with an unamused stare yet your smile remained, your hand on your hip. "You make me sound old." You said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Hell, old enough to be my mother." He said. you gasped as you grabbed your 'offended' heart. "The audacity." You gasped. Your voices sounded muffled as you both playfully argued over your age. Baki stared at Katsumi intensely, his gaze deadly as he stared him down.

#baki #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki x y/n #baki x reader #baki x you #baki hanma baki #baki hanma x y/n #baki hanma x reader #hanma

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v-anrouge · 3 months

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This is a queued post and it includes talks about transphobia and mentions of self harm and eating disorders

Im here to talk and announce a break, first thing's first j relapsed, in literally like everything sh ed and didn't try to kill myself is because of a few people and the fact my pills ended. For a very long time in this blog u have not been feeling like human, it's like most of you don't even actually like and just come talk to me when im being funny and fun or when i post something rook related that you like, ive really been trying to get rid of that feeling but it keeps on coming back and it's unbearable to be in this blog at this point. this situation with Shiba only really confirmed it for me, I saw about like 4 mutuals referring to this as drama, and complaining about seeing it on dash and while obviously you have all the rights to be displeased with a constant show of negativity in your dash, i beg of you to try and think how i, a trans man, must feel seeing you refer to me and other mutuals calling out transphobia and have to read you refer to this as drama and not as a literal crime. I understand if you got annoyed by me talking about it constantly and to that i ask that you please block me, because i have been literally beaten, bullied, harassed and even doxxed by transphobes, I do not take anything that displays even a bit of prejudice against my trans siblings lightly, hence why i was so "histerical and obsessed" and was being so "stupid and acting like an idiot" as someone people would claim. I do not care what view you have of me i really don't, im used to this shit, ive been trans and alive in the most transphobic country for 20 years, it's no news, but it still hurts. And it hurts even more when I see someone say i was an idiot for blocking someone immediately and calling them out when they side with a transphobe, and it hurts even more when I see a person i thought liked me complain about "drama still going on" rest assured that i won't be "bitching" about it any longer

For soru, who cant possibly process why i have blocked you, your take on that situation and your friend have both brought me terrible flashbacks of my own past as a child dealing with transphobia, of being told people like me are sick and are the seeds of the devil and that we are animals or that there's something wrong with us, like your friend said, their apology is both not genuine and extremely poorly made as they still can't accept the fact that yes, they are transphobic, and you soru, can't imagine how it broke my soul to see your post saying you had given them a chance, but seeing the post you made after, in which you literally agree with your mother you should've stayed away from trans people, that's what broke me the most, and j couldn't even speak about it, because it's "too negative" or im "drama chasing" im sick of this, you can hate and insult me all you want soru rest assured you're not the only one you're not the first nor the last one, maybe this will come off as a surprise to the people that are sure im obsessed with drama and chasing people around but i genuinely did have a lot of respect for you, if the hours ive spent crying over this say anything at all, it's sad that this had to end this way, but not for me, I don't care, this isn't the first or the last time this happens to me, but to my mutuals who i am very sure many are angry that i have made this situation happen, perhaps i should've stayed quiet and keep being funny as people like me best, well it is too late, but i hope that you'll forgive me mutuals, for once again ruining something good.

I don't know how long this break will last or if ill ever even return to this account at all, but i sincerely thank the ones that did treat me like a human, as an equal, that actually saw the person behind v-anrouge. you can't possibly believe how much you mean to me

That's about it, do have a great day

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meta-squash · 19 days

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Reading the Torchwood shooting scripts has been so interesting. I keep thinking about things that were cut and things that were added that aren't in the script.

In Greeks Bearing Gifts, the thought that Tosh overhears from Ianto -- "Can't imagine a time when this isn't everything. Pain so constant, like my stomach's full of rats. Feels like this is all I am now. There isn't an inch of me that doesn't hurt" -- that line isn't in the script. That whole little scene isn't in the script.

And it's so interesting because it's a line that seems like it's going to lead to something. Like it's going to introduce a friendship or some sort of character development, or something with Ianto. And then it doesn't. The Captain Jack Harkness episode is the next time we get extended (emotional) scenes with Ianto.

Oh, and a scene that was cut from slightly later in the episode was Tosh going to down into the cells and using the necklace on a Weevil, and it's just a primal wordless scream of pain and fury. Which I find interesting because its replacement is almost a similar sentiment, but coherent and in an understandable language.

I'm glad we got a tad more Ianto with the addition of that line, but I've always thought it was so odd that it never went anywhere. It might have been interesting for Tosh to overhear Ianto's thoughts again, because it might have either reassured her (if Ianto was thinking lighter thoughts and the one she overheard was a fluke) or found her a sort of friend (if thoughts she overheard were similarly relatable).

I think they sort of established a connection between Tosh and Ianto what with him saving her from the cannibals and all, but it might have been nice to further than relationship in a concrete way in the show. If one of the ways might have been Ianto and Tosh talking after Mary, it would have been nice, them supporting each other and also relating on the whole "Jack killed my girlfriend" front. But also it would make the entire conflict in CJH that much more interesting. Ianto's trying to stop Owen because he knows opening the Rift could destroy everything, but if they'd established Tosh and Ianto's friendship more solidly, it would have made it a lot more obvious how much of struggle taking that stance is for Ianto. It also makes the contrast between Owen and Ianto more interesting too. Owen's loyalty to Jack as a leader/father figure vs Ianto's loyalty to Jack as a lover/leader, and then Owen's obsession with Diane vs Ianto's consideration (or not) for Tosh.

But back to the overheard thought. It's such a negative, depressed thing and I think it's at least mildly deliberate on the writers' part that neither Tosh nor the viewer knows whether he's referring to his injuries from the cannibals or to the loss of Lisa or to the Canary Wharf trauma or to all of it. And then we don't get that side of Ianto at all until CJH or the very brief bits in End of Days.

I know Torchwood is basically just Clinically Depressed And Horrifically Traumatized Bisexuals: The Show, but I think it's kind of a shame they didn't do something further with this little bit of characterization.

But! I also think that's why Ianto is fan favorite. Which is a thought for an entirely separate post.

#torchwood meta #torchwood #ianto jones

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yanderes-galore · 5 months

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Oooh yandere platonic Moana vs yandere romantic Gaston concept/hcs with a reader who can control the weather please.

I decided to keep this mostly general for the sake of plot... it's just easier plot-wise, my apologies 😔 Also, I stopped playing before Moana was released so I hope I get things right. Not proofread, sorry for mistakes and length!

Yandere! Platonic! Moana vs Yandere! Romantic! Gaston

Pairing: Platonic (Moana)/Romantic (Gaston) - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Flirting, Violence, Manipulation, Jealousy, Dubious/Forced companionship and relationship themes.

Moana is said to be a natural leader and guide for her team of guardians.

She's able to see the weak points of her enemies and guides her fellow guardians to it.

We can assume Moana keeps her personality from her movie.

She's strong willed and fearless.

In this concept she's your best friend, a fellow guardian who works with you to take down Fractured.

You're a guardian who can use elemental attacks/control the weather to benefit your team.

Then there's Gaston, another guardian who frequents your team along with Moana in this case.

Gaston is an arrogant and ruthless hunter despite being a guardian

He boasts about being an expert marksman and tracker.

Honestly, he gets on the nerves of the two of you, but he's a valuable part of your team.

As a result you tolerate him.

Moana, however, has never really liked him.

The two are from very different universes.

Not only that, but the two are attached to you in their own way.

They've grown attached to you due to you three being teamed together many times.

Others thought you all worked well together.

For the most part, yes, you did.

That was until personal relationships began getting in the way.

Moana grew attached to you like an overprotective friend.

Taking on a leadership role in the group, she feels responsible for your safety due to being your friend and a leader.

Gaston's attachment is much less platonic.

Gaston, the arrogant man he is, is incredibly flirtatious towards you.

He sees you as a romantic partner he must court.

After all... he's the best in the land!

You could need no other!

As a result there is times your team can become dysfunctional due to Moana and Gaston not getting along.

Moana really is trying to keep the team together while also defending you.

She doesn't think you need a man like Gaston.

You could probably do so much better... in fact, she feels you deserve better.

As a result she tries to prevent Gaston's flirting attempts.

You're never alone with Gaston, Moana is always lurking right there.

Meanwhile Gaston is showing evident frustration at the fact your friend is so defensive.

What does she think she's doing?

Is she trying to sabotage him?

Knowing Gaston, he isn't going to let that slide.

Which leads to your team falling apart.

While your team had synergy before with Moana pointing out weak spots and Gaston effortlessly sniping them while you supply weather support... now they do nothing but fight.

Unbeknownst to them they are driving you away from them.

While Moana feels she is protecting her friend and Gaston feels he is winning you over... they are doing neither.

Instead they are driving you out of the team.

However, any attempt to leave is quickly snuffed out.

Moana is quick to tell you she can make things work.

Gaston is also quick to say he'll "behave" around you if it means you'll stay.

It's a constant set of push and pull factors.

They promise to do better right before driving you away again.

You feel really trapped with them.

Moana tries to offer you the comforting words of a friend.

She hugs you and sings praises for you.

However, Gaston feels he has to do better than Moana to comfort you.

Gaston nearly smothers you in praise and affection when you show negative emotion.

Wants gifts? He's gotten some from his hunts.

Hugs? His are so much better than Moana's... bonecrushing, even.

The two do everything they can to prevent you from leaving but still blame each other for your feelings in the first place.

You can try sneaking off but the two watch you like hawks.

You aren't going anywhere without at least one of them pouncing on the opportunity.

The overall dynamic is definitely "Overprotective best friend protecting her friend from overly flirty/sketchy guy."

They both probably mean well with you, mostly Moana, but it doesn't come off that way.

Slowly your freedom is constricted by the two.

You loathe their fighting but it's all you ever see.

You're stuck.

It doesn't help that their fights begin to show physical signs as time goes on.

At some point... someone will snap...

You just have no idea who will do it first.

#yandere disney #yandere disney mirrorverse #yandere moana #yandere gaston #yandere mirrorverse moana #yandere mirrorverse gaston

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lovesickbrat · 1 year

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Bunny by Mona Awad (Spoilers!!!)

okay so bunny by mona awad succeeded in areas I think my year of rest and relaxation by otessa moshfegh failed in which she created a satire that actually had something to say. the way awad deals with the concepts of loneliness (both incidental and self inflicted), female friendships, class and the pretentiousness of New England college culture actually feels purposeful. and the reason I compare it to moshfegh is because both books are satires with unlikeable protags but while moshfegh is too busy kissing her own ass and hiding behind “oh all art is apolitical” bc shes to scared to admit that she actually cares about the topics shes talking about, awad cares very deeply about what she’s writing which made it unsurprising to see she based it on her own experiences at brown university.

Samantha is not the most likable character and you’re either gonna cone away from the book hating her and her pity parties or deeply understanding why she throws them (especially if you read her as a woman of color like I did). there’s a constant theme of her being obsessed with her own otherness and its true especially when you consider (Spoiler) She created her best friend Ava from a swan in the pond . Ava is Samanthas ideal friend but also the ideal form of herself: cool, self assured and beautiful. If Ava is the good part of herself, then Max is the bad. Her dark thoughts, negative impulses and hatefulness. But he is also how she sees herself as well, or at least what she thinks Ava would find attractive, he’s smooth, attractive in a dangerous way, poetic without being pretentious (he’s a literal vessel for her to say what she feels about Ava all of which is written in her diary) and what I think is very very important he can fuck Ava. Something the bunny-boys couldn't do.

there's also the sense of how we lose ourselves in our friends, as female friendships tend to be all consuming to the point we really do melt into a hive mind and I think even the friendship with Ava is tinged with co-dependency. Samantha dehumanizes the Bunnies calling them by nicknames she gave them, robbing them of agency because of their perceived perfectness but once she is invited to the Smut Salon she begins to call them by their real names until finally in honestly the most disorienting section of the book they all become Bunny, to the point its hard to tell who is talking and I loved that I wish we got more of Sam as a Bunny.

the atmosphere and aesthetics of the novel were so fun a candy colored dark academia where we even see that the bunnies also put on airs around each other like how Kira’s voice deepens when she thinks shes alone, no longer concerned with sounding like. bunny. I like how each of the women have a genre assigned to their writing and personal style showing how even though they are indistinguishable from each other, they were their own people beforehand but they allowed themselves to get sucked into a vacuous pretentious bubble.

the commentary on class was great, especially with how sam is said to be too obsessed with being poor to have been poor her whole life and I think thats a very accurate representation of someone who's financial status has been precarious for much of her formative years and why despite herself shes so intrigued by the bunnies and feels out of place in her writers cohort. rich people love to blow smoke up each others asses, which allows the bunnies to write horrible work because at the end of the day they’re rich it doesn’t matter they're never gonna have to improve themselves. its also why sam feels reluctant to speak her true feelings on their work because she doesn't have anyone to rely on lest she gets ousted

the usage of the all female writing cohort with the singular teacher was a great nod to the secret history honestly the whole book was

I loved how it was a creation horror story as well as coming of age the horrific parts were truly gross and the way the cannibalize themselves (metaphorically) towards the end was satisfying as fuck

and a lot of ppl hate the ending but sam choosing Jonah was honestly cathartic, she isn't healed things aren't sweet and nice but she makes a connection with someone who has been reaching out to her instead of being obsessed with her own otherness

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #bunny mona awad

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{7} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 8,120

Warnings: Anxiety and PTSD, mental illness, and inferred depression. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Emotional turmoil is always a fun thing haha but I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel! Next chapter should be a bit longer hopefully, so I hope you'll excuse these shorter ones for now. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six

Falling.

The harsh whipping of wind against your skin is all you can hear as you tumble towards the earth. Each breath is a struggle as you attempt to fill your burning lungs with air, the pressure of such an altitude detrimental to your every move. Your chest aches, throat scraped raw with the shrill shrieks of terror that escape you as you tumble through the sky. Tears leak from your eyes uncontrollably, lids squeezing shut in tandem as you can barely get a grip on your surroundings.

Everywhere, all you can feel is pain.

Free falling has always been described to you as a feeling of utter weightlessness, but there isn’t a cell in your body that you cannot feel. All of which are heavily screaming at you in terror.

Never have you been able to feel the full weight of your heart as you do right now, every twitch of your fingers sending jolts of unpleasant electricity racing up your arms. The cold of your body slicing through the air is unlike any sensation you’ve felt before, and with every foot lost, you gain momentum.

Is this how it all ends? After nearly killing a man that you love, having him admit your worst fear for the moment that you are to blame, and having your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sheer pressure of its pulse, you will land upon the earth like a falling star?

Your skin begins to heat, replacing the utter cold you had been feeling only moments before.

You don’t want to die. Not like this. Not now.

You got yourself into this mess, you can certainly get yourself out of it. Though, you have no idea how far the ground is from you. You could make impact at any second, and you count yourself lucky that you’ve lasted this long already.

Concentrating hard, you focus in on your room back home. Perhaps you can simply transport yourself onto your bed, and forget that this ever happened for a little while. Hopefully, you won’t be disturbed, either. None of them will probably want to see you, anyways. Not after what you’ve done to their brother.

Yet, no one will be able to blame you as much as you blame yourself. The guilt begins to eat you alive, mind darkening into that familiar negative territory the longer you allow your thoughts to go unchecked.

A sob tears from your throat.

Faintly, you feel several worried brushes against your void. Three are much more urgent and firmer than the others, constantly keeping pressed up against you as their strings all hum furiously with movement.

What would happen should you choose to open your mind to them? Would they forgive you? Would they figure out what’s going on and leave you to suffer?

No. You know that they wouldn’t. They could never.

But then, how long would it take for them to find you?

Too many thoughts continue to race through your mind, clouding your better judgment and drowning you in self-doubt. Your emotions are all over the place, but the constant ache in your chest reminds you of the harsh reality that has just occurred. Honestly, you just wish you could numb the pain.

How much time do you have left? You seem to be falling for quite a while. Perhaps you started from a higher altitude than you had originally realized. Jongho’s blood is still running through your veins, after all.

Again, several frantic brushes against your void are felt, much more urgent than the first.

Fear grips you once more as you attempt to crack an eye open. You can barely see through your blurred vision, the wind whipping passed you and stinging you all over. All you can recognize is mountains, and a large lake that seems to be getting closer and closer with each passing second.

Another scream of absolute horror rips passed your lips. You feel as if your heart is about to burst from the intensity of its beating within your chest. The ground below gets closer and closer, and your mind scrambles with what to do.

Only one thought begins to get clearer and clearer: you need help.

A glint of gold flashes out of the corner of your eye, and your whole body shakes as a tremendous roar pierces through the air. A presence begins to fall alongside you, large and ominous, but you do not feel threatened. No. Instead, you are relieved; comforted in an unfamiliar way as a faint glow begins to emanate from your brow.

Suddenly, it’s as if the whole world stops.

No longer feeling the intense harshness of the wind as it whips passed you, you crack open your eyes.

A level view of the surrounding mountains greets your gaze, and it is then that you realize that you are gliding through the air. Your hands grip onto something solid beneath you, and when you look down, you see scales beneath your fingertips.

Not just any scales.

Dragon scales.

The dragon is unlike any that you have seen before, the sheer size of it spanning at least fifty metres in length. The scales are a matte black, gold weaving throughout the cracks between and glinting beneath the light of the moon. Spikes line the crown of her head, golden veins lining the horns which protrude from her skin. Seamlessly, she blends into the night surrounding her, nothing more than a dark blur against the clouds.

You don’t have to meet her gaze to know that it’s a deep gold.

A second later, and a dark blue dragon circles around the larger one’s back, followed by a green amphiptere who’s tail flicks worriedly behind her. Both shift to fly closer to you, situating themselves above the large dragon you rest upon and flanking you on either side.

Silent tears continue to stream down your face the entire flight back to the dragon’s nest. Luckily, it seems as if you’ve managed to teleport yourself quite close by.

Fifteen minutes later, and that little cliff face is in sight, an albino wyrm slithering restlessly back and forth.

Mon is the first to offer you help down from the large dragon’s back, sliding up beside you and allowing you to grip onto him as you climb down. Both Xiron and Yerra hover close by, offering their assistance in any way that they can.

A blink, and Wyno is standing before you.

You don’t even have a chance to say anything before both of her hands are coming up to cup your face tenderly. Nothing but concern can be seen in her golden eyes as she searches your gaze.

“My Child,” her voice is low, steady as she searches your bloodstained face. “What happened?”

Several frantic brushes are felt against your void, each male trying desperately to reach out to you. You know they’re probably worried out of their minds right now, but the feeling only makes you feel worse.

For the third time that day, you break down.

Immediately, Wyno wraps you in her arms, your whole body collapsing into her hold. Sobs wrack your entire form, tears streaming seemingly endlessly from your eyes as your grip tightens around her. Gently, she strokes your back, cooing comforting words into your ear as she begins to calm you down.

You can faintly hear worried whines coming from the three young dragons surrounding you. Soft coos of their own escape them as you feel them tenderly nudge their heads against your lower back and legs. A reassurance that they’re all here.

“Shh,” Wyno brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head. “My Child, let it all out. I’m right here; you are not alone.”

You sob harder.

“Whenever you’re ready, My Child, know that I will listen to whatever it is you have to tell me.” She assures you.

Your void rumbles. Urgently, each male attempts to reach out to you, desperate for an answer.

Faintly, you brush back.

The instant you finish brushing against their strings, their attempts to contact you strengthen tenfold.

You nearly stumble on your feet, legs threatening to give out at any moment. The constant feeling of them pressing against your mind only makes your mood drop further, your throat tightening as your emotions consume you.

“I can’t-“ you shake your head, whole body trembling in her embrace. “I can’t-“

“Let’s get you inside,” Wyno keeps her voice steady, wrapping her arm around your waist carefully for support as she begins to guide you towards the cave.

A minute later, and she’s sat you down in a small wicker chair. Another, and a steaming cup of tea is handed to you, the three young dragons surrounding you on either side. A cloth rests in her hands as she dabs the damp material against your skin, cleaning the now long since dried blood from your features.

Slowly, you manage to get your breathing under control, thanking Wyno lightly. She sends you a small, tense smile back. Once she’s finished cleaning you up and attending your wounds, she pulls a silk robe around her shoulders. Then, she’s sitting across from you.

“Do they at least know where you are?” Calm are her words, gentle in her inquiry.

You shake your head, taking a light sip of your tea.

“Do you want them to know where you are?”

A brief pause where you consider her question.

A blink, and you’re shaking your head yet again.

“At least-” your voice comes out raw and strained. You clear your throat. “At least not for now.”

“I do not know what happened, My Child, but do not underestimate the lengths they will go to find you.” She addresses you cautiously. “They would tear the whole world apart looking for you.”

Your gaze drops, a sadness taking over your features.

“Do they at least know that you’re safe?”

“I-“ you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as your head begins to pound beneath their constant bombardment. “I don’t know.”

Wyno inhales a deep breath before making a clicking sound twice through her teeth.

A blink, and Stella appears hovering in the air between the two of you.

Softly, the raven coos at you, circling lightly around your head as she sees the state of distress you seem to be in.

More clicks can be heard from Wyno, Stella landing on your shoulder and standing at attention. You swear you almost see the raven nodding in understanding.

“Do you have anything on you that Stella can bring to them to let them know you’re alright?” Wyno turns her golden gaze to you.

“Uh,” you swallow lightly, blinking all the while. “Yeah.” You clear your throat. “Yes.”

Moving your hands to the back of your neck, you unclasp the necklace you always wear. The chain hangs precariously from your hand, the replica of Arwen’s Evenstar dangling like a gem in the somewhat dim light of the cave.

“I have told Stella not to let them know where you are until you are ready to see them, but they are stubborn.” Wyno informs you. “They might demand she tell them. They may search her mind, or force it out of her with their powers. Either way, she will stay with them until the task is complete, and I summon her again.”

You nod your understanding, watching as Stella gently clasps your necklace in her beak by the chain. Another soft coo is heard from her.

“She wishes you well,” Wyno hums, somewhat approvingly. “Also, that she’ll peck out the eyes of whoever hurt you.”

You manage a small chuckle at that.

“Thank you, Stella.” Your lips pull upwards weakly in the corners. “But I did this to myself.”

A concerned caw greets your ears.

“Hurry, Stella,” Wyno inclines her head. “Before they start tearing the realms apart.”

In the blink of an eye, the raven has disappeared from sight.

Your gaze falls to the cup in your hands, thumb tracing the side of the ceramic gently. Your shoulders curl in on yourself, but at least you immediately begin to feel some relief from their constant brushing against your void. Still, you recognize those same three strings - one royal blue, one lavender, and one yellow - all humming faintly in worry, even more so than the others.

“Now,” Wyno draws your attention back to her once more as she sits forward in her seat. “What is it that you believe you’ve done that warranted you crashing to the earth like an astroid of old?”

Your whole body stills, and you swear you forget to breathe. Finally, that feeling of numbness you had so desperately been hoping for begins to spread throughout your body. It starts in your chest, creeping outwards as you continue to stare down at the cup of tea held desperately in your hands.

Your lips part, only to close shortly after. No words escape you despite the fact that it all wants to come spilling out. You don’t want to burden Wyno with your problems. Problems of which you hadn’t realized had still been bothering you until today.

“Speak, My Child.” She keeps her tone steady, but still tender all the same. “It is best not to allow these thoughts to fester, lest they continue to consume you. I promise that I will listen, and provide my best insight should you desire it.”

Mon soon slithers beneath the legs of the chair, resting his head by your feet and nudging you in comfort. Xiron comes to sit on one side of you, while Yerra takes the other. Faintly, you register the feeling of a wing wrapping around your back in comfort. Turning your head, you see a translucent blue hue shining beneath the light of the cave. You smile weakly.

“I-“ Again, your voice catches in your throat. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Begin wherever you deem it necessary for me to understand.” She smiles assuringly at you, a hand reaching over to squeeze your knee.

Softly, you nod your head. Taking a deep breath in, you begin.

You do not start at the very beginning, no, but you go far enough back where you deem all of these current issues started.

Naturally, you begin with Miyeon’s torture. You explain to Wyno every minute detail of that day that demon appeared in their domain. Nothing is spared, and you divulge to her the hurt you had undergone. The hurt you’re still suffering from because of her. Facts of which even the males have never been privy to, lest they recall the state your body had been in when they arrived back home.

The way you can see her jaw clench, claws sharpening into points as she curls her hands into fists on her lap has you shifting in your spot. Low, threatening growls escape her with each exhale, her fangs on full display as her lips curl back over her teeth.

Luckily, none of the males seem to appear at any point. Looks like Stella is keeping them away for the time being. A fact which helps your shoulders to relax, even unknowingly, the longer that they stay away.

Quietly, Wyno takes your one hand in hers, listening to everything you have to tell her. She is able to calm herself enough to allow you to continue, patiently sitting beside you the whole time and offering you comforts in her own way. You don’t seem to realize, but when you are explaining what happened three days after the events of Miyeon, your whole visage begins to glow softly.

Recovery is a tricky path to navigate, but even she can tell that those eight males have helped you in more ways than you realize. You spoke true two days ago, and you understand that. Even if your state of mind seems to be battling your logic and reason for the moment.

Sometime during your recount, you manage to finish your cup of tea. You place the empty cup down, only for Yerra to gently rest her head in your lap. The young dragon nuzzles into you affectionately, nothing but worry shining within her eyes. Though, she cannot help the way they flutter shut once you begin to stroke your free hand over the top of her scales.

The more you speak, the more you seem to relax. The words flow from you like a steady stream, cleansing your soul with each second that passes. The fact that Wyno simply just listens is more than you could have ever hoped for right now, and you’re grateful she’s letting you get it all out.

When you finish your recount of the harpy meeting, Wyno finally allows herself to let out a snort.

“You certainly did put that chicken in her place, My Child.” She grins, noticing how your lips quirk faintly. “Only a true Queen could do that.”

You can feel your cheeks heat, thanking her lowly before continuing.

Finally, you begin to breach the events of the last twelve hours. Of course, you remain vague about all of the explicit details, but from the knowing look in Wyno’s gaze, you can tell that she’s long since figured that out.

“Yes, I had assumed something of the sort,” Wyno nods, recognizing how you begin to slow down in your retelling as the most recent memories begin to consume you. “I can smell him all over you.”

A grimace crosses your features as your fingers begin to subtly press a little firmer into Yerra’s head. She appears to be sleeping, eyes closed as her chest rises and falls evenly while resting in your lap.

“You consumed his blood.” Not a question, but an observation.

“And he consumed mine.” You confirm.

“Which explains how we found you tumbling through the air earlier.” Wyno nods.

Your brow furrows. “I did that?”

“My child, who else could it have been?” She chuckles. “You have already divulged that the eldest’s blood allows you to glance spirit souls. Is it not so farfetched to believe that the youngest’s could allow you to teleport?”

“No.” You rub the tips of your fingers together gently over the skin of your thumb, mocking the way they would trace over your therapy pebble. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Now, tell me what warranted all of this.” She squeezes your other hand reassuringly.

You take a shaky breath in, averting your gaze in shame as you confess to everything that has just happened to you.

The whole time, Wyno remains quiet. Her golden eyes scan your face carefully, noting every small twitch of your brow and downturn of your lips. She can hear the pain you fight through with each word. The guilt, self-doubt, and remorse you hold onto comes through loud and clear.

Your gaze is haunted, and a chill runs down your spine. There are tears in your eyes as you admit to what Jongho said right before you disappeared, whole body trembling as you succumb to your emotions once more.

Faintly, you register Mon slither out from beneath the chair.

“My Child, please look at me,” Wyno’s voice is gentle as she shifts forward on her chair to get closer to you.

You raise your head, whole body nearly jolting as you feel something being placed carefully onto your shoulders

“Do you truly believe those were all of the words that he wanted to say?” Wyno reaches forward to help Mon wrap your jacket around your upper body.

Your whole body deflates. “I don’t know.”

“After the evening you have just told me the two of you had shared, do you truly believe that he would blame you for this?” Wyno attempts to reason with you, hands rubbing over your arms lightly in comfort.

“How could he not? It’s all my fault.” You choke on a sob.

“Tell me, My Child,” she manages to get you to meet her gaze and you notice her eyes flash, “do you blame them for what happened with that one?”

You blink, caught off guard by her sudden question. “Of course not! I could never-“

“Do you not think that they do not blame themselves for everything she has done, and all that she continues to do to you?” Wyno continues to reason.

“But it’s not their fault! I-” Your voice catches in your throat.

Wyno quirks a brow, looking at you expectantly. You fall silent.

“We act in ways we deem appropriate at the time in which these incidents occur. It is not your fault you were deceived; you do not control the actions of others.” She holds you firmly in her grip, squeezing your arms reassuringly. “You do not think I cannot still see the guilt that clings to them for ever allowing you to reach such a broken state at another’s hands?”

You remain quiet.

“You nine are all more alike than you think.” She hums. “Yes, you probably could have taken a moment to think things through, but when someone you love is at stake, logic is not always your friend.”

“Jongho still got hurt because of me.” You reply lowly, eyebrows drooping as you stare at the ground.

“You said he jumped in front of you. Not once, but twice, correct?” She tilts her head knowingly.

You nod your head.

“Then, that was his choice.” She shifts her hands to hold your own in her grasp once more. “He could have let you been hit both times, but he chose to save you. I have known him far longer than you, My Child, and were he feeling truly petty, he would have let both those weapons meet their marks. Do not twist his efforts to protect and help you into something that they are not. I have seen the way he looks at you. How his aura shines alongside your own. Do not make the man you love into a heartless monster. Least of all towards you.”

Tears begin to gather in the corner of your eyes for the nth time that morning, and you do whatever you can to blink them away.

The sun begins to rise over the horizon.

“Just because you blame yourself, does not mean that they will.” Wyno is a bit blunt when she says this, but you know it’s all spoken with good intent. “You made a mistake, and it seems as if this was the final piece which shattered the glass you had been looking through to keep yourself sane.”

“My Child, you are trying so hard to be brave, and strong when you haven’t allowed yourself proper time to grieve who you once were. Whether any of you wish to acknowledge it or not, that woman did kill a part of you that day. You may not have ceased to breathe, but she certainly destroyed a portion of who you once were. A portion you may never get to reclaim, nor should you want to.”

Wyno takes a moment to pause, inhaling deeply before she continues.

“I did not lie when I said that you have become stronger because of what has happened. Everything in your life leading up to this moment in time has made you who you are. As much as you wish to believe that you are passed this trauma, it will live with you every day until this whole rebellion is complete.” She states. “Whether it will end in victory or death, that has still yet to be determined. Do not create more issues where none lay.”

Your hands begin to shake, the numbness that had been felt throughout your entire body receding.

“But this is an issue, Wyno!” You practically spring to your feet, barely registering the huff of surprise Yerra lets out as she just catches her head from hitting the floor. “I indirectly hurt their brother. I nearly caused the death of a man I love because I let fear control me. How could they even bear to look at me now after what I’ve done? This incident has only just solidified that I’m barely holding myself together. I can put up a brave front, and act like I’m fine, but I’m not! I’m no Queen, and I need to stop pretending to be one.”

Wyno takes a moment to observe you carefully, golden eyes trailing over your figure as she watches you tremble in your spot. Your admission seems to have surprised even you, your eyes wide as your chest heaves.

“What is it you are truly afraid of, My Child?” She stands to her own two feet slowly.

At the way you remain silent, she’s quick to continue.

“Do you truly believe that they could hate you for this? For anything, for that matter?” She takes a step closer, staring you down all the while. “Do you believe they would turn on you for worrying about your family in the same ways that they worry about you? You have already confided in me that they've told you that they do not blame you for this. Is it not within yourself to believe them? Have they ever lied to you, least of all when your own feelings are concerned?”

Your hands cling desperately to the edges of your jacket, tears beginning to stream down your face as you watch her approach. Faintly, you register Mon brushing up against you back and holding you steady.

“Even now, I would bet all of the jewels in all of the realms that they are continuing to reach out to you in that mind of yours to know that you’re safe.” She says. “To know that you are still alive and breathing.”

Sure enough, you feel the faint brushes of assurance from all seven of them as soon as she says this. All several of their strings continue to hum in worry.

“Do you know how difficult it is to convince that Captain of theirs to change his mind when he sets his own course of action?” Wyno comes to stand before you now, placing her hands onto your arms reassuringly. “None of them have the ability to be patient when your safety is at risk, let alone your own personal wellbeing. I would bet anything that they wanted to appear here instantly after pulling the information out of Stella using any means necessary. However, they held off. For you, because that is what you asked of them.”

Your breath hitches slightly in your throat.

“Your Eight Kings do not particularly enjoy taking orders, or listening to others who attempt to command or control them.” Her tone is firm as you meet her gaze. “However, they will always listen to you.”

A blink, and you’re swallow thickly.

“No, My Child. There is no need for you to pretend to be their Queen,” she wipes your tears away so gently as she cradles your face in her hands. “You already are.”

You lower lip wobbles and she pulls you back into her embrace. One of her hands supports the back of your head while the other strokes comfortingly over your spine. Again, you bury your face into the side of her neck.

“Whether you know it or not, whether you acknowledge it or not, they have always viewed you as their Queen.” She whispers lowly into your ear.

A shudder wracks your chest as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Let me ask you this, My Child,” she tilts her head so that it rests against your own. “If the roles had been reversed, would you not have done the same? Would you not have given anything to protect him in the moment, if you had been able to?”

“Without question.” You breathe, tightening your hold subconsciously around Wyno’s back.

“This is not the first time you have experienced each other being injured in front of your very eyes.” Wyno says, and your mind flashes to the very first time you had ever met the dragons. “I’m sure it will not be the last.”

You let out a shaky chuckle. “No, I’m sure it won’t.”

“Then, cease this pointless self-blame you seem to be so adamant to condemn upon yourself.” She pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes. “Acknowledge your emotions and allow your mind to rest. It does no good to dwell on the things we cannot change. I’m sure those Kings of yours would tell you the exact same.”

The corner of your lips quirks slightly. “I tell them that all the time.”

Wyno shoots you a playfully incredulous look. “Well, there you go, My Child. Afford yourself the same leniency.”

Darting your gaze to the floor, you let out a small sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Suppose?” Wyno chuckles. “My Child, I am always right.”

A playful wink is sent your way, and you cannot help the soft puff of laughter that escapes you.

“Now, go get some rest.” She motions for you to follow Mon who brushes his head against your back again in comfort. “You must be exhausted.”

A nod is all that you can muster in response as you allow yourself to finally relax. A wave of intense fatigue washes over you, body instantly slouching as you turn to face Mon. Slowly, you trudge after him down a side path leading deeper into the cave, eyes blinking tiredly as Wyno’s words echo through your mind.

She’s right. Your emotions were high, and you overreacted. You didn’t even give them a chance to calm you down before you unknowingly transported yourself away. Still, it doesn’t make what Jongho said in the moment hurt any less, even if that might not have been what he meant.

Perhaps this is exactly how Seonghwa felt all those months ago when he royally screwed up. He did look the most concerned out of all of them, a sad understanding on his features as you practically clawed at your own face in worry.

Speaking of, you’re pretty sure you’re body is still covered in blood despite Wyno cleaning your face. Only, you cannot find the energy to care right now. Not when Mon seems to lead you to the nesting area, nudging you towards what you assume is his own bed.

With the help of Mon, you’re laying down, allowing the wyrm to settle close to you for warmth as he wraps himself protectively around you. Softly, he coos to you, and without another word, you allow the gentle rumbling of his chest to lull you to sleep.

Meanwhile, Wyno heaves a tremendous sigh as she paces back and forth just inside of the cave’s mouth. Boris’ eyes track her every movement, his head resting on the ground as he looks up at her. Repeatedly, she taps her fingers over the skin of her crossed arms, golden gaze glinting in the dark semi-dark of the cave.

For twenty long minutes, Wyno allows you to rest with the babies in the nests’ deep chamber. Long enough to sort out her own thoughts before summoning those Kings of yours here.

Making her way outside of the cave with Boris in tow, Wyno looks out upon the cliff face. Briefly, her eyes dart over to the spot where Xiron had been pinned down by an arrow, your body hunched over him for protection.

She takes a deep breath.

The second Wyno clicks her teeth to alert Stella of her request, they all appear before her. Frantic looks of concern are clear on Wooyoung’s, San’s, and Mingi’s faces, and even Yeosang is having a difficult time maintaining his composure. Seonghwa’s hands twitch, while Yunho’s gaze darts every which way in search of you.

The longer all of them go without seeing you only increases their worry tenfold. Of course, it doesn’t help that they felt a shift in your internal workings of your mind just over twenty minutes ago.

“Where is she?” Hongjoong steps forward, a wild look of desperation on his features.

“Calm yourself.” Wyno commands, raising a hand to halt him in his tracks.

Hongjoong’s eyes flash, his nostrils flaring.

“You dare tell me to ‘calm myself’ when Our Queen has been missing for hours?” His voice is low, ominous as a hint of a growl coats his words.

“She has not gone missing. She’s been here with me this whole time.” Wyno replies cooly. “I thought Stella informed you that she was safe.”

A caw is heard from the raven as she flies over to perch on Wyno’s shoulder.

“She did.” Yunho responds, somewhat bluntly. His one hand is closed into a fist, your necklace clutched tightly in his grip.

“Please, Wyno,” Yeosang begins. “We’ve been worried sick.”

“I am well aware of your urgency.” Wyno’s eyes flash, noticing how both San and Wooyoung begin to pace restlessly before her.

“Then, why won’t you let us see her?” Wooyoung snaps, clear irritation on his face as he chews on his bottom lip.

“We’ve been waiting this whole time for a summoning.” Seonghwa adds, nothing but urgency in his tone. “Please, don’t keep us from her any longer.”

“I called you here because it is easier for you to come to me, than for me to go to you.” Wyno begins, keeping her voice even and breathing steady as Boris shifts beside her.

“Are you saying that you’ll deny us entry after everything?” Hongjoong’s lips pull back in a snarl. “She is Our Queen, not yours. She does not belong to you.”

“Neither does she belong to you.” Wyno retorts, quite pointedly. Already, her patience is wearing thin.

Several low, threatening growls sound from across from her.

“We aren’t afraid to tear that whole nest apart to get her back, Wyno.” Yeosang states, tilting his head pointedly as he narrows his gaze at her. “Friend, or not.”

“Each threat you speak does not make me confident in allowing you access into my home to retrieve your beloved.” Wyno stands tall, shoulders squared as she looks across at all of them. “If you would stop to listen for five seconds, you would have already been led inside by now.”

Again, Seonghwa’s fingers twitch, but they all choose to remain quiet.

“Before I grant you access, I need to know that my own words which I have spoken in reassurance to her are true.” Wyno says, eyes narrowing pointedly. “As much as I do know you, you can all be quite unpredictable when it comes to her.”

Several low warning growls reach her ears once more.

“So, she told you what happened.” It’s not quite a question that escapes Mingi’s lips, but the hesitance comes through all the same.

“I know that because of what happened, her mind was in such a fragile state, she condemned herself to fall upon the earth freely.”

A collective stillness passes over all of them as both San and Yunho inhale sharply. Immediately, tears are springing to Wooyoung’s, Seonghwa’s, and Yeosang’s eyes. Mingi’s whole body begins trembling, chest heaving with every breath.

“No…” Hongjoong falls to his knees.

“We were lucky the bond alerted us to her distress, even unknowingly.” Wyno continues. “Even now she is still riddled with a tremendous amount of self-doubt and guilt. My words can only help her so much. She needs you.”

“Then, why are we still standing outside?” Wooyoung grits his teeth, tears cutting tracks down his cheeks as he steps towards Wyno.

A warning rumble escapes Boris’ chest, and Wooyoung scowls, freezing in place.

“Do you want to know what her biggest fear out of all of this was?” Golden eyes observe them carefully, watching every subtle twitch of their brows.

“Wyno-“

A sharp look from the dragon stops Mingi’s words right in their tracks.

“She was terrified of you.”

Their hearts drop, and each male stills in their spot. Not even their chests move as they forget how to breathe, more tears falling freely down each of their faces.

“She was terrified of what you might do to her in retribution for harming Jongho.” Wyno infers. “She believed, despite it all, that you would hate her. That you would despise her, and curse her very existence for what she’s done.”

This time, it’s Seonghwa who falls to his knees. His hands brace himself on the ground, sobs wracking his entire body as he attempts to catch his breath. All he can think of is how badly he’s failed you yet again.

Yunho places a hand onto Yeosang’s shoulder, noticing how the younger male has gone eerily quiet. Were it not for the fact that Yunho can still hear Yeosang’s heart thundering inside of the shorter male’s chest, he would have thought that the younger had died as soon as those words had left Wyno’s lips.

Immediately, San wraps Wooyoung in his embrace, letting the younger male sob violently into his neck. Both of them begin shaking uncontrollably, clinging to each other for dear life.

Behind him, Hongjoong can hear Mingi cursing. Knowing the younger male, he’s probably pacing and ripping at his hair as tears fall freely from his eyes. However, all Hongjoong can do at the moment is stare forward, nothing but the crushing weight of devastation suffocating his heart and flooding his entire being with a numbness unlike ever before.

“But she didn’t harm him.” San’s voice trembles, and he feels Wooyoung squeeze him tighter.

“It wasn’t her fault.” Yeosang states, voice sounding much calmer than he is right now.

“We would never-“ Seonghwa chokes on a sob, “could never blame her for this.”

“There is next to nothing in this world, or in all of the realms that could make us hate her.” Yunho keeps his words low, even. “Let alone blame her.”

A firm nod from Wyno is all they receive in response.

“How could she ever think we could hate her?” Wooyoung’s breath stutters with his wails, that complete feeling of devastation choking him out just as it does with the others.

“I do not think she had been thinking clearly, given the events that had occurred throughout the night.” Wyno says. “You seven should be all too familiar with what the weight of crushing guilt can do to your reason. All rational thought ceases to exist.”

A hushed understanding passes over all of them as they nod solemnly.

“Please, Wyno,” Hongjoong finally lifts his gaze. “Please, take us to her.”

Never before has Wyno seen the man before her look so utterly broken. Yet, she knows. She just knows that this is all just fallout from that reckless and selfish demon who has haunted you since the eight of them all fell in love with you. Since they chose you to be their Queen.

Softly, Wyno nods her head.

“I will take you to her.” She voices gently. “However,” they all tense, “you need to all realize why I had to go about it this way.”

“Do you truly believe that we are capable of ever hurting her?” Mingi’s crestfallen expression says it all.

“No.” Wyno shakes her head lightly. “I do not.”

“Then, why-“

San’s inquiry gets cut off by the eldest’s shaky voice.

“You did this for her.”

Wyno’s golden gaze flits between all several of the males now turned towards her. Her expression says it all.

“Come.” She turns, guiding Boris back into the cave with her. “She’s currently sleeping.”

The walk through the cave is silent, save for the few sniffles that Wyno can hear coming from some of the males behind her. Luckily, they seem to manage to compose themselves just as they reach the nesting area.

Frowns tug at their features as they don’t immediately see you.

“Where…?” Hongjoong’s brow furrows, knowing that he and his brothers can just make out the faintest hints of your scent mixed in with the rest.

“There.” Wyno motions off to the side with her head.

Shifting their gazes to where Wyno has guided them to, they see both Yerra and Xiron curled up with each other. A wing from each dragon is spread out between them, as if covering something hidden beneath.

Slowly, the two babies retract their wings as they get closer, and the sight that greets them would normally be adorable given any other circumstance.

There you rest, curled up with your arms around Mon as you sleep soundly. The babies surround you on either side, keeping you warm as your jacket seems to have fallen off of your shoulders. Mon is more than happy to be held in your arms, and he continues to let out gentle coos as you sleep, reassuring you that they’re all here to protect you.

Unfortunately, it seems as if the slight shifting around you has woken you up.

Groggily, you blink around at your surroundings, your head lifting as you attempt to gather your bearings for the moment. With the help of Mon, you manage to sit, rubbing at your eyes all the while as he slithers around your back. The albino wyrm curls around you protectively as you hear several sharp inhales come from in front of you.

You freeze, but what you fail to see is how all of them take a hesitant step towards you.

A soft call of your name has you slowly lowering your hands, somewhat cautiously. You blink to clear your vision, and the instant you see them all standing in front of you, tears spring to your eyes once more.

Nothing but concern is on each of their features as they look at you, their hearts squeezing painfully as they hear your own begin to thunder inside of your chest.

Carefully, San takes a step forward, his hand raising to reach out to you. “Baby-“

“I’m sorry.” Your lower lip trembles, the first of your tears spilling onto your cheeks. Your voice is raw, all of the events finally catching up to you as you attempt to clear your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, whole body beginning to shake. “I’m sorry.”

Arms wrap around you instantly, and you jump as you feel yourself being pulled into someone’s chest. Unknowingly, your one hand fists his shirt for dear life.

“Shh, My Divine.” Seonghwa soothes you, rocking you gently in his embrace as his hand strokes over the back of your head. “It’s okay.”

You sob harder, more apologies falling from your lips.

“It’s not your fault, Dearest.” Yeosang keeps his voice low so as not to startle you.

“We’re not mad at you.” Mingi is the next to speak. “We could never be mad at you for this.”

“Please, My Love, do not think that we are.” Hongjoong kneels beside you, reaching out to tenderly caress your back.

“If anything, we thought we were going to lose you.” Yunho breathes, a hint of fear clinging to the edges of his words.

Wooyoung collapses in front of you, grasping your hands in his desperately. “Please don’t run from us like that again. We would never forgive ourselves if something happened to you.”

“We could never hate you, Starlight.” Mingi whispers, stepping in closer.

“Please don’t be afraid of us.” San pleads, swallowing somewhat thickly. “We could never, never hurt you, Baby.”

With each male that speaks, you manage to calm down more and more. Apologies no longer fall from your lips, and your breathing is starting to even out. It seems as if you’re able to finally begin thinking clearly with all of them surrounding you like this.

Softly, you begin to nod your head and a collective sigh of relief if heard from all of them.

Wooyoung squeezes your hands, smiling at you faintly. “Please, don’t scare us like that again.”

“We were in a frenzy trying to find you until Stella showed up.” Mingi admits, running his hand through his hair which stands on end in every direction.

“Let’s get you home, My Love.” Hongjoong stands, helping you to your feet along with Seonghwa.

A catch in your breath as you are swooped up into the eldest’s arms.

“You should get some rest, My Divine.” He pulls you tighter against his chest, holding onto you securely as if you might disappear again at a moment’s notice.

All you can offer them is a small nod in response before you’re all turning to face Wyno once more.

“Thank you for watching over her.” Yunho tilts his head in acknowledgement towards the alpha of the dragons, clutching your necklace a little firmer in his hand.

“Always.” Wyno hums, a small upturn to her lips as she watches you rest in Seonghwa’s arms. It looks as if you’ve finally calmed down, for your head leans against his shoulder, your breathing evening out steadily. “I am more than happy to provide for one of our own.”

Exhaustion tugs at the edges of your consciousness, but you force yourself to stay awake. Just enough so that you can turn your head towards Wyno.

Softly, you incline your head in her direction, blinking at her gently as you mouth your gratitude. She mirrors your movements, a tender smile pulling at her features in understanding.

“Go home, My Child,” her voice is low, nothing but a sweet caress to your ears. “Allow yourself to rest.”

A small nod is all she receives in response before the eight of you are disappearing from sight.

The front foyer is quick to greet you after that. It appears to have been cleaned, everything back in its regular place, and no Jongho in sight.

Seonghwa goes to take a step towards your room before your voice is halting him right in his tracks.

“Please,” the call is weak, but they all still manage to hear, “I need to see him."

An understanding passes over all of them, and immediately, Seonghwa is stepping towards the youngest’s room with the others surrounding you both. Hongjoong is quick to push open the door, guiding the way inside as you all follow behind. Once beside Jongho’s bed, Seonghwa softly sits you on top of the covers.

Swallowing thickly, you take in the sight of a still unconscious Jongho. He looks so peaceful, sleeping soundly beneath the comfort of his sheets. His chest rises and falls evenly, and he doesn’t appear to be in any pain, but you still cannot prevent the way your heart twists in guilt seeing him like this.

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking tenderly against his skin.

“He’ll be okay, Dearest.” Yeosang reassures you, moving to sit beside you on the bed.

“He just needs some rest,” Wooyoung affirms, a slight nod to his head.

“Just like you do, My Love.” Hongjoong places a comforting hand onto your shoulder.

“Are you injured?” Mingi finally voices his concerns, noting how all of his brothers turn to observe you carefully now.

You shake your head, voice rough as you speak, “Wyno healed me.”

“We’re sorry we couldn’t be the ones to take care of you this time.” Seonghwa averts his eyes in shame, and you notice how the others do as well.

Again, you shake your head. “That’s not on you. That’s on me.”

“Petal,” Yunho’s worried voice reaches your ears.

“It seems all we ever do is apologize to each other,” you say, somewhat lowly.

“It’s hard not to feel remorse when it concerns the one you love.” Hongjoong squeezes your shoulder gently, and you’re briefly reminded of that talk you had with him in the garden all those months ago. You place your hand atop his. “Come. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You look up at him, protests forming on your lips.

“You’ve had a long night, Dearest.” Yeosang reasons, helping you back to your feet. “You need to rest.”

“Besides, he’ll probably be all better by the time you wake up.” San assures you, a light smile pulling at his features.

A small weight is felt settling onto the skin of your upper chest, and you turn your head to see Yunho securing your necklace behind you.

“Thought you might want this back.” His voice rumbles out lowly, a faint upturn of his lips as he sees your fingers brush over the jewel hanging over your skin once more.

“Come on, Angel.” Wooyoung begins to lead you out of the room with Seonghwa. “We can talk about everything later. For now, let your mind rest. We promise we’ll take good care of you.”

You nod, allowing the comfort of Your Kings to surround you once more as you fully embrace the light of the morning sun shining through the windows. The night might have been dark, but you know. You just know that everything will be alright with them by your side.

Jongho will be fine.

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