#so there. tread lightly idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s-4pphics · 4 months

Text

click!: in frame. 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, loss and unhealthy grieving, papa issues, verbally abusive parent(PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY), depictions of therapy and counseling, light discussion of anger management, brief mention of alcohol, bullying, a lil fluff, SMUT!! YIPPEE MDNI, bondage, squirting, bathroom sex, eating out no taqueria, ellie getting sloppy from a hot milf that’s it

You look like your mom.

Your father’s admiring whisper yanks you out of the hazy turbulence in your mind. You shovel a handful of caramel popcorn in your mouth. You don’t dare look at him.

Daughter things, I guess. Your dad simply hums. Silence simmers between the two of you. It’s not comforting. Not like it should be. A bomb is coming.

Honey, I… I love you. Your father sounds like he's crying and it pauses your aggressive chewing. You finally turn to face him and your fingers twitch when you see his globby tears. They’re heavy as he releases his regrets in silence, just like he always does during this time of year.

Me, too, dad.

You’re not sure if you’re lying or not. Some things are impossible to forget, you suppose.

You eat more popcorn with a permanently damaged heart.

FOUR YEARS LATER

FIRST DAY WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“Some people believe that any form of assistance is… insulting. Whether it be to them as people or… specific traits that they hold that others may find unfamiliar or unsettling. I’m not here to judge or anything of that nature. Just here to help you figure out why specific aspects of your life affect you the way they do.”

Your arms cross over your chest. Dr. Brown realizes you’re not taking the bait, so she attempts to get you more comfortable. “I think icebreakers could help ease some of the tension. So… What’s your favorit— “

“My dad died last year.”

Your statement makes her freeze, her smile melting off her face, eyes shifting across her face. She adjusts some papers on her clipboard and clicks her pen. “Alright, hun,” Her gentle tone makes your stomach twist. “Let’s talk about it. What was the relationship with your dad like?” You simply shrug.

Dr. Brown nods and tries again. “Were you and him close? Your notes say you and your mother were inseparable, just like me and mine.”

Your nails sink into your cuticles and tears burn in your eyes, “I… I wanted to be. Close.” You whisper. “He wasn’t around like that, though.”

She scribbles and solemnly nods, “Did he work often?” Your head bobs and droplets stream down your cheeks.

“I didn’t think I’d care that he died… He was never around growing up, so… like, whatever.” You grumble lamely.

“What did losing him feel like?”

The end of your mouth curls downward, the familiar searing you’ve grown to loathe, “Like… the world was burnin’.”

“Elaborate.” She pries softly.

Another bounce from your shoulders. You readjust in your seat. “I wasn’t even sad. Just…” You trail off, fingers twitching under your arm.

“Angry. I was angry all the time.” You rush out quietly, face burning with shame. “Just like he was.” You pause when your breath shakes, “I wish I got some of my mom’s traits. My dad’n I are just alike.” You fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater.

“… You’re not like him— “

“I am— “

“You’re not. You’re trying to put in effort to be better for the future. Could he have said the same?” She’s stern when she speaks.

You’re stumped. You wipe your tears harshly. For the first time, you're at a loss for words.

WEEK TWO WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“Think about the first time you saw your dad lash out. You can elaborate on how you felt, how you reacted, how your environment changed… Anything you feel comfortable sharing.” Your eyes stay glued to your therapist’s couch as you recall the day. Every detail and foul verbiage he directed towards your mother resurfaces and falls at your sock-covered feet.

It was the morning of your first day of second grade. Your mother spent the entire morning hot-combing your hair, bumping your ends, littering your locks that were bound to recoil in seconds in bobbles and clips. She could tell by your expression that you didn’t like it, but she completed your bright pink outfit with it’s not for you, it’s for me! Sit still! She never failed to live vicariously through you; Every childhood moment she couldn’t live out was now yours.

Your father wasn’t around much. He was a truck-driver, on a constant voyage to wherever he was instructed to go, hundreds to thousands of miles away from solace for months — sometimes years at a time. He missed birthdays, holidays, family reunions; There was always a missing space for him somewhere in your childhood home, whether it be his customized keychain that he forgot, shoes he didn’t pack, a hug he didn’t give. Proof of him was always scattered around somewhere, but he was a shadow. A blank memory.

So, why were your cartoons interrupted by his booming voice in the kitchen?

You remember turning the television down, only by a couple digits, your ears honing in on every word he screamed at your mother. You were so confused. Half of those words you’d never heard before. Why was he so mad this early in the morning?

You knew it was serious when your mother retaliated just as loudly, the cracks and shrieks from her belts sounding alarms in your brain. Your mom’s in trouble! Help her! But how could you? You were defenseless against him. It felt like the day flew by as their aggression intensified, curses nearly shattering the glass of your backyard door before everything went quiet.

But still, your feet carried you to peek behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Your attempts at being discreet were pointless, though. When you saw your mother pinned up against the counter by your father, tears streaming down her face as he spat with every whisper onto her cheek, you gasped. Your memory is washy after that, but you remember your mother wiping her tears and slapping that comforting grin on her face. You wish you didn’t remember how broken she sounded when she said alright, baby! Ready for school? Don’t wanna be late!

You suffered through social studies, language arts, and math. Your mind wasn’t where it should’ve been; You couldn’t shake the fact that your mother could be hurt and she had no one to tell. You just prayed to yourself as your teacher spoke, hoping that your mom would be on time to pick you up at the end of the day.

Your eyes travel over the teal incisions of thread on your therapist’s seat. You’re still not used to the sound of your own voice. “It’s… it’s a funny story…” You sound so weak. You retell what you can, all while following the tip of your therapist’s scribbling pen.

Why did it have to be green? Why are the clicks deafening?

“Ellie, holy fucking — shit, these look fucking incredible!” Yuki whispers, expression impressed as she snoops over the auburn-haired girl’s shoulder, inspecting the aerial shots she’d taken a few hours ago. Editing is a bitch. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re…”

“A genius, I know,” Ellie says dryly, a soft grin hidden behind the hand that holds her head up. It’s almost eleven. “M’almost done— “

“Nope! Not happening!” Another voice exclaims from the black lounge chair on the opposite side of the room. “You’re not the one that has to lock up every goddamn night! I ain’t stayin’ here ‘til two again! You got two seconds to finish up before I drag you up outta here.”

Yuki giggles at Saliyah’s scolding, and Ellie sighs. The pictures look almost perfect. Almost. They’re not there yet! All she needs is an hour… or three—

“What did I say! —“

“Alright, alright, fuck.” Ellie shakes her head before closing all her tabs, pulling her flash drive out of the PC before shutting it down. She stands from her rolling chair and snags her blazer from over the back of it, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her work bag, camera already securely inside. She shoves the drive in a random pocket before stretching.

The two girls already have all of their belongings in hand, more than ready to clock the fuck out. Yuki eyes her slyly, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “Oh, wooow, she’s actually taking orders, now? Listening to instructions for the first time? —“

“Can you stop.” Ellie mutters as she follows the girls descending the stairs. “No!” They both say in unison. Ellie smiles. Does she really stay out that often? There’s no way she’s that stubborn.

All three girls crack jokes as they vacant the building, ensuring all the lights and equipment are shut off and prepped for tomorrow. It’s an early day.

“Alright, bitches!” Yuki screams into the darkness, bag swinging as her heels click-clack on the pavement. “I want you bright and bushy-tailed tomorrow! Busy day! No time to fuck arou— “

Saliyah yawns, eyes droopy, “Girl… fuck you.” Ellie cackles and rubs her tired eyes. She can’t wait to get these six hours in. And see her baby. Saliyah wraps her arms around Ellie’s neck, muttering see you tomorrow, stinker into her neck. Ellie hums and holds her before watching her get into her vehicle.

Ellie does the same after both girls leave the parking lot, her head falling back onto the headrest, eyes shutting in exhaustion. Today was insane… Fuck, it was incredible. She's always accepted opportunities to take photos in nature. Landscapes are her prestige, but when she got the offer to take aerial shots of the ocean, she couldn’t say no. Just when she thought she’d never get on an aircraft out of fear…

The shots were mystical, the monsoon winds carrying the waves in all directions as the foams ripple, a scene straight out of her dreams. The second she got off the helicopter, she got to editing. Staying in late to perfect her captures has become a terrible habit, but what can she say? She loves her job. Thank God her coworkers are as sweet as cherry pie and support her bad habit. Besides tonight, apparently.

Days like this keep Ellie humbled… Most times. She deserves to boast every once in a while. She often thinks back on her college days, how out of touch chances like these seemed. The number of times she was brushed off by respected professionals because she lacked “necessary resources” was astronomical. But look at her now. She had everything she could ever want: a career she’s passionate about, healthy friendships, and the means to take care of her father.

Well… she has most things.

She sighs and starts her vehicle, the diamonds in her Rolex sparkling under the street lights beaming in from the window. The streets are calm. Not normally bustling like they would on a regular day. The clouds are coming in; Rain is due. She’s so excited.

It’s a calm drive back to her small home. She pulls into the driveway and exits with all her supplies, unlocking and entering her place of peace.

Meow! Meow!

Ellie clicks her tongue at Pickle, “Hiii, mama. I’m home.” She drops her bag on the small couch near the front door, bending down to pick her up. “You’re heavy, fuck.” The baby purrs and nuzzles into her neck as they enter the kitchen. She sets her down on the counter and opens the fridge for water. There’s soft scuffling from behind her as she sips.

Ellie turns to see Pickle playing with a pen, rolling it across granite. She swallows her last gulp before sighing, picking up the utensil, the one memory she kept of you. Your colorful fucking custom ballpoint pen. Pickle nibbles her fingers, trying to snatch it back to play with, but Ellie clicks it over and over.

“Miss her? Yeah?” She whispers. Pickle licks her index. Ellie will never admit it, but she thinks about you whenever she sees her baby. Yours, too.

She hopes you’re alright.

“You said that going to his funeral was different from your mom’s. Do you mind elaborating?”

You shrug and scoff. “Shouldn’t everybody feel sad when they parents die?” Dr. Brown mimics you, “Not at all. Every reaction to loss is different and not all reactions are symmetrical.”

“I was angry.” Your statement is blunt and abrasive.

“Expound.”

“I wanted to dig him up and spit on him my damn self.” You say, sharp as razor blades. Brown hums, unfazed by your sudden aggression; What the hell do therapists write on those clipboards? “I just… Seein’ all these fuckers I didn’t know talk about how fuckin’… great he was and how missed he’ll be was fuckin’ infuriating. They don’t know shit about that man or the shit he’s done.”

Sympathy washes over Dr. Brown’s pupils. “See, your temper is the reason you’re here. You’re not obligated to forgive anybody that wronged you, but…” She’s simultaneously stern and empathic, “You do not get to use those emotions to inflict negativity onto the people around you. You’re perpetuating the same harm you wanted to avoid in the first place.”

You instantly know what she’s referring to and guilt radiates all the way down to your toes. Amaya… Oh, you miss her. Another good person caught in your violent crossfire. Your last conversation was vile, and you hate yourself every day for the things you said to the only person who unconditionally cared about your wellbeing. Tears brew in your ducts, but you blink them away.

“I didn’t… know what to do…” You didn’t, so you screamed and shouted and told her to never call your fucking phone again. The last thing you berated was the final nail in the coffin for your relationship. You left me, you’d said over and over until the line went dead. You left me alone! I fucking needed you!

“No one has the answers for these types of situations. Why we react the way that we do to traumatic events will always be a mystery.” She adjusts in her chair, leg crossing over the other. “What I do know is that… you’re fighting grief. You’re choosing not to experience it, and it’s making you lash out on people who don’t deserve it.”

But how does one grieve the person that made their life… unlivable? Through rage. Rage in its purest form: unfiltered, erratic, sizzling. It’s unrelenting and unforgiving and holds no bounds, prepared to be released at any moment, no matter who’s present. Your father’s home has seen it all at this point: glass shattering on walls, screaming into the closet where all his clothes hang, punching the pillow he slept on every night.

Everything was exactly where your father left it, and instead of crying, you relinquished hell on the home he left in your name. You’re still surprised it wasn’t engulfed in flames after his funeral.

“I just…” Harsh sniffles from you, desperately wiping your tears with damp hoodie sleeves, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing feels… real anymore.”

“You’re real, baby.” This is the most delicate Dr. Brown has ever sounded, tone hushed. “Your feelings are real, your pain is real, but so is everyone else’s. You have to remember that.”

You’re listening so intently, “What I'd suggest…” You already know what she’s going to say, and you’re petrified. You sag into your seat.

You owe those two girls an apology.

Flashes of green race across your memory. The meadows are back, and they’re haunting.

“Three.” You whisper.

“Hm?”

“I owe…” A heavy exhale. “Three girls an apology.”

OCTOBER, 2013

Ellie’s officially fifteen. She’d give anything to be home right now.

She was so happy before she left that morning. Her dad woke her up with a heaping stack of iced chocolate chip pancakes that were the size of her head and happy birthday candles. Laughter echoed through their household, following as they cascaded down the stairs to blast music. Neighbors be damned. Everything was perfect. Up until she was dressed and ready and in the car.

Ellie’s dad held her hand the entire drive. He didn’t comment on her white knuckles as she gripped his digits when he kissed the back of her hand. It took her a second to exit the car when they arrived, so he said the usual. You got this, kiddo. The extra encouragement provided a boost, for sure. She was able to get to class on time.

Every time a wad of paper or a sharpened pencil hits the back of her head, she regrets not begging her dad to let her stay home. She’s grown used to the snickers, the shoulder chucks in the hallway, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

English concludes and she’s silently packing when her bag gets yanked out of her hand.

Missed you, stalker, A kid who Ellie doesn’t fucking remember snarks with a dark grin. Where’s that book you always have—

Tyler! The teacher’s voice booms, the class filling with oooh’s, That's enough. Give her stuff back now.

C’mooon, I can’t talk to my girlfriend? The remaining students burst into laughter and Ellie’s face burns, swallowing the lump that’s forming in her throat.

How about I call home? Tyler sucks his teeth at the threat while his friends laugh, dropping Ellie’s things on her desk with little care. She wastes no time to flee, shoving her earpods in and synching each trembling breath with the heavy percussion.

Her dad comes to pick her up an hour later.

A light tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the lengthy equations on the board. Numbers and letters? Your fucking ass; Absolutely not!

You turn to Amaya, who’s smiling wide, shoving a folded note in your hand, rushing you to open it. Your brows crease as you face forward, unraveling the nest crevices and met with… hearts? Glitter? Pretty penmanship? No man wrote this, thank God.

Hi. You’re really pretty and nice. Would you like to sit with me during lunch?

Ceniyah

… Ceniyah? … Thee Cece? The person you’ve been obsessed with since middle school? What the fuck is going on!

You turn back to Amaya who’s giggling into her palm, catching glimpses of a shy Ceniyah, who keeps her head down, her beaded braids shielding her face. Your face burns and you jerk back forward. It’s not a fucking prank, what the fuck, what the fuck—

Class drags like a bitch, but the bell finally rings, and everyone hustles, shoving books in their bags, running to the cafeteria. You refuse to move, though. Your iron is low and the person you’re in love with asked you to crunch on celery sticks with her. Alone. You're bound to pass out the second you breathe wrong.

Hi.

You nearly fly out of your seat at her soft tone. She sounds like an angel. You’re going to die. You jump out of your chair and… take in the beauty that she is. She smells like heaven and her skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight. You hope she can’t see your acne scars… and she’s shorter than you. Are minors allowed to get married?

H-Hey, You hold up the pink piece of construction paper, I, uh, got your note… It’s beautiful. Her smile shines brighter than the sun. She shakes her head and the chains locked on her clips tinker like fairies.

Are you kiddin’ me! That mural you helped create was crazy. That was beautiful.

I love you.

Your eyes go wide. Did you say that? You don’t think you said that… Her smile turns confused and you realize you said that. You almost stab yourself with your pencil. I mean, like, I love how you appreciate art! Like, not m-many people… do that, and stuff…

She smirks and your heart squeezes with delight, And stuff? She inquires with an arched brow.

I’d appreciate it if you ladies headed to lunch so I can enjoy mine. Your teacher interrupts, And the next note that gets passed earns a detention.

A soft, floral-scented hand closes around your wrist, over your beaded bracelets and charms. You grab your bag with your last remaining strength and follow her like a puppy, her flowy skirt brushing against the bottoms of your jean-clad legs.

Best… day… ever.

PRESENT

Ellie needs to start doing finger stretches. Her hands are starting to hurt every time she clocks out.

She’s sitting at her desk, re-editing the infant photos she took earlier today. The twin girls from earlier were absolute angels, smiling and cooing up at the camera behind their matching pink pacifiers. She's never thought about having children… ever, but it might not be so bad—

Meow! Meow, meow! MeowMEOW—

… Nevermind. Kids are not for her. She can barely get this one to act right. The pictures are cute, though.

“What’s the matter, mama?” She coos down at a doe-eyed kit-kat. “Hungies?” Pickle jumps up and into her lap, staring at the bright screen that displays Ellie’s editing software. Ellie smirks down at her, “What, you wanna try?”

Pickle blinks up at her. No thoughts, just kibble.

She decides to save her progress on the photos and give her munchkin some love. The few minutes of head pats and runs are cut short when she gets a pop-up from her email. She pays it no mind at first, but she zeroes in on the subject with furrowed brows. It simply reads hi… an overdue apology. Ellie blinks a couple times before suspecting spam… But who the fuck names a spam email something that cryptic? What the fuck?

Ellie opens it… and her body goes numb as her eyes follow each word.

hi, ellie. i’m not sure how to start this off, but i hope it’s decent enough to sit through. i apologize in advance.

you probably don’t remember me, but we had statistics and used to live together in college. it was only for two months (i think, kind of a blur) but… yeah. i hope it semi-kinda rings a bell. hi again.

this is a very random time to reach out, and i understand any confusion, but i just wanted to apologize for everything. i was terrible to you. i'd never thought i'd become a judgmental person, but i did. i mocked you, i spoke behind your back, and probably ruined your last year of school, and i carry that regret with me everywhere i go. i’m not sure if i'll ever be able to express my remorse properly.

i’m trying to do better. i want to do better, but i can’t unless i express it.

you never have to talk to me again, and i understand if you don’t, but if you ever want to have a conversation with me, i’d be more than willing to come wherever you are to do so. or we can exchange numbers if it’s less of a hassle. i see how busy you are.

thank you if you took out any time to read this jumbled mess of thoughts. i’m very nervous. i hope you continue to live beautifully.

sincerely, someone trying to start fresh.

(p.s. i swear i'm not a stalker. you’re really popping on instagram. congratulations on everything.)

Ellie wastes no time and unplugs her entire PC, the screen going black. Her heart is racing and water surfaces above her pupils. Pickle purrs in her arms as she backs her rolling chair from under the desk and scurries into her bedroom. She sets the kitty down on her bed and clutches her chest. She forgets to count, forgets to breathe as detailed images of you scatter in her head.

You… what the fuck.

Ellie feels her hands start to shake, so she squeezes them in a fist as she paces. Her gasps are choked and she’s spiraling into panic; She can’t unsee your teary, brown eyes, how you tried to mask your sadness when she stated she was leaving. She was able to convince herself that she’d never see you again, and it took her so long to be okay with that. She’s grown to be okay without your presence.

The burnt trail she left behind has reignited again. She's sinking, drowning, just like she did years ago.

WEEK FIVE WITH DR. BROWN

“How do you feel now? Be honest.”

“… Still shitty… but alright, I guess.” You’re hoarse when you speak.

“Elaborate. What does alright mean for you?”

You pick at your fingers, “I’m not… I don’t wanna, like, kill myself… if that’s what you’re asking. The ball’s in their court now, I guess. I’m… I’m just alright.” Your shoulders bounce in a shrug.

“Has anyone answered?” Your head shakes in denial. “Don’t let that jeopardize your progress. However they react to you contacting them is not on you anymore. They either accept it or they don’t, and they’re valid in both options.”

Dr. Brown pauses and eyes you skeptically, “What?” You ask.

She shrugs, “One person isn’t on your making amends list.”

Your reply is immediate, “Probably for a reason.”

“Do you remember what you told me during our first meeting?”

Irritation boils under your skin. “I see where you’re taking this conversation and I’m not messin’ wit’ it… Respectfully. Next topic, please.”

Her hands raise in surrender, “Ay’, I’m not here to make you do diddly-squat. Merely providing perspective.”

“Right.”

“You did beat that girl to a pulp, though. I will say— “

“It’s what she deserved.” You say flatly. “She… humiliated me, and when her bitch left, she tried to come back to me. Get me pregnant— “

“Chile, I’m not tryna hear all that— “

You scoff and fall back in your seat, cushions and pillows molding with the curve of your spine. Dina bringing her happy ass to your father’s home after his death was one of the most infuriating experiences of your entire goddamn life. The second you opened the door, you were met with wildfire and permanently scarred. The least you could do is give her a fucking black eye.

What you did after that… you’ll never regret. Ever. She can blast you on Twitter all she wants; She’s dead to you.

Dr. Brown sips on her black tea with a pointed stare, “Yes, ma’am?” You say sarcastically.

“Watch that tone,” That look in her eye… she meant that. You’ll be quiet. “She was wrong for what she did, but you ain’t innocent.”

“I’m sorry, but I disagree. That one… she can choke. I don’t care.” Dr. Brown is disappointed by your answer, but frankly, you don’t care. That ship sailed and sank like the goddamn Titanic.

She seems disappointed in your answer, but she lets it go. “… Alright, then.”

On the brink of a heart attack perfectly explains how Ellie’s been feeling for the past week. The number of times she’s reread your fucking email is genuinely embarrassing, but she’s weighing her options: she either blocks you or accepts your offer. She's never been so conflicted in her life. She desperately needs a fucking break.

She never takes Saliyah and Yuki up on their offers to turn up on Friday nights, but her rampant emotions backed her into a corner… and now she’s tipsy on the dancefloor of some rinky-dink club. One night of release wouldn’t hurt.

Ellie really wishes she had a grilled cheese. They’re quite delicious… Probably not the thoughts she should be having with a hot older woman pushing back on her to fucking T-Pain, but she’s hungry! Liquor gives her the appetite of a fucking rhinosaurous, what can she say!

Saliyah and Yuki are handling business for her, though, giving the lady’s ass very encouraging slaps every time their hips connect. Ellie probably looks like a fucking dumbass as she pumps her fist in the air like an old man, but she can’t remember the last time she partied. Sue her!

It’s not until the woman stands upright, her sweaty, nearly bare back pressed against Ellie’s button-up, an arm coming up to loop around her neck, slightly shifting her bow tie that Ellie freezes, her fists clenching even tighter in the air. Her core gives a sharp squeeze when she feels sticky, glossed lips imprint on her throat. Her eyes bulge as she frantically searches for guidance from her friends, but they’re no fucking help, as usual! What the hell is miming sex and eating pussy going to do for her? She can barely breathe.

Her friends shoot her finger guns in encouragement before heading back to the bar. A tongue darts out to lap up her anxiety-induced sweat, and her body tremors, her hands untwisting to land on the girl’s jean covered hips for leverage. She feels teeth beam on her neck and her entire body flushes.

“You’re adorable!” Ellie hears her scream over the blasting music. Her tongue jumbles as she searches for a reply, but nothing leaves. She just drops her head onto the woman’s shoulder… and nearly flat lines when she eyes the cleavage sitting taut in her halter top. Her heart’s pulses synch with the ones from her clit when the woman giggles. Ellie’s ninety-five-point six percent sure that her nipples are poking through her shirt.

Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek when the woman spins to face her, chest to chest, noses almost touching. The woman’s gaze drops to her neck, cunning as a fox as she undoes the first button of her shirt before unraveling the loop of her bow tie. She leans in, wafts of cinnamon flooding Ellie’s nostrils.

“Come to the bathroom with me?” Ellie’s nodding before the lady can conclude the purr in her ear. Her hand gets snagged and she’s being dragged through the hot crowd, all the way to the back of the club and shoved into the giant restroom. She finally takes in the goddess in front of her: dark hair, plump lips, pretty lashes. The wrinkles by her eyes and laugh lines are sending dopamine alarms in her brain.

Ellie receives one gentle kiss that makes her hips

grind forward before she hears, “You ever been tied up?” The raven-haired woman mumbles against her mouth. She whines, cheeks burning, “N-No,” she whispers.

Her perfect teeth shine, “You wanna be?”

Does she? “I — yeah, I guess?”

“Put your wrists together,” she hums and Ellie does. Her own bow tie gets looped and twisted around her nimble hands. The woman drops to her knees in front of the trembling girl, massaging her thighs over her jeans, planting kisses all over them, “You gotta name, honey?”

“Ellie… M’Ellie…” The woman’s hands creep up to unbutton her jeans, the soft hiss of the zipper, “What’s yours?” She only receives a shrug. “Whatever you want it to be.” Her jeans are yanked down seconds later, her… fucking Cartoon Network boxers drenched all the way through. The woman giggles and calls Ellie a cutie pie and her clit jumps.

Her manicured nails hook under the band of Ellie’s boxers, slowly inching them down until her soft, sticky hairs are on display and her boxers are around her knees, “Gonna let me eat this pussy out, angel?”

Ellie’s vision whites out. Only for a second, “Y-Yes, ma’am…”

Ellie’s sopping lips and pulled apart, her red, throbbing clit on display for the fucking witch in front of her. “You’re so fuckin’ cute. Anybody ever play with this pretty cunt?” Reality crashes down on her like a boulder as images of you touching her, kissing her flash before her eyes. Her jaw slacks as her words flurry.

“Just — fuck, just one time.”

“Yeah?” She coos, massaging gentle circles on her clit, “I'm your lucky second?” Ellie nods frantically. Her knees buckle when a sharp slap lands on her pussy, “Ffuck—“ The strokes on her clit are punishing, fast and non-stopping, the woman’s teeth gritted when she asks, “Steppin’ out on your girl, huh?”

Ellie moans around her denial while her cheeks glow, “N— agh, s-shit, wasn’t m’girl—“

“Yeah? She touch you like me?” The woman snickers, and Ellie burns red. She’s already so close and she can’t fucking think, “Think m’cummin’—“ Ellie slurs, her tongue thick in her mouth as her walls squeeze down, desperately trying to pull something, anything in as deep as possible.

“Can feel it. Tell me when.” But Ellie couldn’t. Her orgasm crashes into her like a fucking truck and her body falls forward, legs trembling as it wracks through her in harsh waves. The thighs that try to close are forced open, sharp stings radiating off her skin from the nails that pierce them. Strong suctions attack Ellie’s clit and she sobs, practically riding the woman’s face. Vibrations from satisfied hums stimulate her further, and she swears she’s going to pass out.

The pleasure builds all over again and her eyes squeeze shut, her hips thrusting forward and into the woman’s mouth. Her optics cycle into her skull when the space right below her clit gets stimulated just right and she rides that edge all over again, but this time, it’s stronger. The woman’s groaning in her pussy like she’s starving, and Ellie can barely garble her warning of another orgasm.

She squeaks when a gentle finger slides between her walls and she wishes it felt like yours did. Ellie’s bound hands entangle in the soft locks and pull, pushing her head any which way to guide her where she needs. She doesn’t register that she’s whining your name until the woman asks, “Tha’s your girl?” Right on her pussy, and Ellie tips.

She’s so loud when she explodes all over this stranger’s face, wetness coating her inner thighs, dripping all the way down to the bottoms locked around her ankles. You take refuge in the nasty side of her brain as she envisions you between her legs, you making her feel this good. Something about the way you touch her… She thinks it's impossible to replicate till this day.

When Ellie comes down, she falls against the door, relishing in the steady kitten licks on her twitching bud. One last gentle kiss, and the woman separates from the mess between Ellie’s thighs, chest wet with her juices.

“Good, honey?”

Ellie blinks like she’s risen from the dead, short hair clinging to her forehead. She shoots the woman two thumbs up and she chuckles, untying Ellie’s hands and helping her back onto her feet. The woman helps her redress after she cleans herself up, and Ellie’s nose twitches when her own stickiness latches onto her clothes. Her arms fall back to her sides when her belt gets secured.

She’s winded when she finally speaks, “Um… thanks…” How the fuck does Ellie say goodbye to someone who sucked her soul out?

“No problem…” The woman’s warm hands are soft as they push away damp strands from Ellie’s forehead. The freckled girl nearly purrs. Call her Pickle at this point.

Ellie steps away from the door so that the fucking seductress can exit. The woman backs away and unlocks the door with a gentle smile. “You should text her.”

Ellie’s stomach churns. “… What.”

“The girl that’s not your girl.” That’s the last thing she says before stepping out. Ellie’s heart plummets when her eyes lock with Saliyah’s, then Yuki’s. Her friends gawk at her disheveled appearance, lipstick stains littered all over her button up. Ellie’s not nearly as embarrassed as she should be; All she can think about is you.

“I think I’m in trouble.” Ellie states mindlessly.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Yuki snickers and pulls Ellie out of the bathroom. She hides her face when she’s met with the long line of people desperately needing to piss.

WEEK SEVEN WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“You look bright.”

You feel brighter. Just a little bit. You’ve finally gotten your locs retwisted.

“Amaya texted me back.” Dr. Brown seems impressed at your statement, happy for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“Yeah? What’d Ms. Producer say?”

“She, um… She wants to have dinner.”

“Oh? And what’d you say?”

“I said of course and then sobbed until I got here.” Dr. Brown chuckles, “When’s the big meal?”

“In two days. I got a hotel near where she’s at, so… Yeah. Probably won’t see me for a little.”

“Good for you, honey.” She says proudly, “Heard from any others?” Your head shakes. It’s not surprising that Abby and Ellie haven’t reached out to you. They don’t owe you any closure, even though it took you a while to accept your karma.

“Progress is progress, nonetheless.” Her tone reverts back to stern, “Remember… when you see that girl, don’t expect anything to come from it. She’s going out of her way to speak with you, not the other way around.”

Your head bows shamefully. You're incredibly nervous to see your best friend… if you deserve to call her that anymore. Anxiety isn’t foreign to you, but you’re anticipating the worst for your meeting. You’d give anything to mend your relationship with Amaya, but how’re you going to be able to overcome the guilt of abandoning her?

You can’t remember the last time you went to the campus coffee shop.

When Amaya sent you her new address in the middle of your old college city, you sobbed for half an hour. You’re not sure why considering the entirety of your graduating class is gone (hopefully in hell); It’s a mix of emotions coming back here. The baristas that used to work here have been replaced with new bushy-tailed freshmen with under eye bags. The coffee isn’t the best, but it’s oddly nostalgic. You feel fucking old just looking at their bright customer service smiles.

Your attention gets snagged away from your steaming cup when a sharp gasp echoes from behind you, nearly spilling your drink all over your flannel when someone calls your name. Anxiety spikes in your gut when you see…

Who is that?

“Oh my goodness! Sweetheart!” An older woman with gray hair and a cardigan places her hand on your shoulder and your eyes bulge out of your skull. “It’s so good to see you!”

What the fuck is going on? “You... You, too, uh… ma’am!” You put on the most believable smile you can. Is your memory really this fucking bad?

“Students don’t usually stick around after this long! Our major was pretty small, you know how it is.” Major… Students… Graphic design… Professor! Your memory clicks but her name doesn’t. What the fuck is this woman’s name! You feel like a cunt all over again!

“I’d love to catch up if you’re sticking around!”

“Um… yeah, of course.” Her smile is bright when she enters the line. Relief floods through you when she gets to the service counter and one of the baristas says good morning, Professor Meyers!

You silently thank the Lord.

“What brings you back to town, honey!” Professor Meyers asks excitedly.

“Um… just missin’ school, I guess.” You lie. Fuck this school.

She swallows her sip of tea before pausing, “Wow. First time I heard that. I didn’t see you at graduation!”

Your chest concaves and your face burns, “I, uh. I didn’t graduate. I dropped out.” Professor Meyers' expression drops, pity written all over her face.

“Wh— Why?”

You shut down her interrogation, “I just… stuff happened. I couldn’t handle everything all at once.” Her eyes sadden and she places a comforting hand on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry, honey. Whatever it was… I hope it’s okay, now.”

“Getting through it.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. The air is suddenly suffocating.

“Y’know… if you’re interested…” Professor Meyers’ tone is suggesting. Your brow quirks at the woman plotting in front of you.

“Some of the art profs are always looking for some extra help for the introductory courses. Your rough drafts were always pretty spectacular.”

Your body burns. “Thank you.”

She smiles and reaches into her bag in the other chair, pulling out a small card and handing it to you. “This is my contact information. I can set you an interview with Professor Ronson if you’d wanna join the little alumni support team.”

You accept her card, “But I’m not… I didn’t graduate— “

“Oh, hush now! If you go to college, you’re an alumni! These exclusive rules are outdated!” Professor Meyers stands with her bag and tea. “I gotta run, but please consider it! It could be a great marketing opportunity for you!”

You're left to simmer in your thoughts as she rushes out of the cafe. You didn’t even have the chance to tell her that you haven’t touched a canvas since your father’s funeral.

You waltz into the upscale restaurant with tied lungs. Prepping an outfit for tonight was a hassle; You were forced to rummage through your father’s closet for suitable attire. You can’t remember the last time you made a purchase for yourself.

You feel out of place standing here with the… upper class. They’re dressed to the nines and it’s incredibly intimidating. Your eyes cast downward to your wrinkly shirt and blazer; Why didn’t you bring a fucking iron?

“How can I help you, miss?”

Your eyes bulge when they lock with the host’s and gut churns with discomfort. Your legs wobble closer to the counter, “I— there’s… reservation…”

The host stares at you with utter confusion, “Oh, sure! What’s the name?”

“Um… Amaya— “

“Ms. Robinson?” The host’s eyes fill with glitter, “Oh my gosh, when I saw her walk in earlier, I was like, no way she’s actually here. This is crazy! But it was really her! I couldn’t believe— “

Another host interjects, “My apologies, ma’am! She’s a bit, uh, excited. Your table is right this way.” The host begins walking, and your feet move on autopilot, “Would you like a menu?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You won’t be able to keep anything down anyway.

You move through bustling walkways, ears filled with bouts of obnoxious laughter and corny jokes with each table you pass.

Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the isolated leather and rosewood booth where Amaya sits, her back to you. There’s two glasses and a bottle of… something on the table.

“Ms. Robinson! Your guest is here!”

Amaya, filled glass in hand, cranes her neck and meets your flitting gaze. Her eyes are stagnant, unmoving, and your nerves wrack. She looks fucking immaculate with the slit in her black dress, smokey makeup, heeled

shoes. She’s dressed down for a fucking funeral. Yours.

You’re actually not ready to see her. You’re not ready at all.

“You want a glass?”

Amaya’s tone is cold. Colder than the dripping neck of the bottle right in front of you. “N-No thank you.”

She scoffs laughter around the rim, “Shocking.” You scramble for a reply, anything to say to the woman oozing impatience in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. She sets her glass down with an unsteady clink.

“You said that already.” She states, brown eyes sharp. “Why are you?”

You scratch at your ear, trying to mask the tremors in your fingertips, “Because… I — I wasn’t…”

“I don’t hear from you for months,” She spits, “And then I get a phone call from my drunk best friend screamin’ at me, tellin’ me that I fucking left her to grieve by herself… because I’m selfish and money hungry… Right?”

Angry tears sizzle in Amaya’s eyes as she continues, “And I still come and visit you… only to get a door slammed in my fuckin’ face.”

You’re completely frozen; You can barely look her in the eye. Your hands are clenched together under the table, nausea creeping up your throat. “I… there’s no excuse for what I did— “

Amaya’s eyes are void, “Why did you do it.”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” you rush out, desperate. You’re losing her, “He — I was just — I couldn’t control myself and I screamed and yelled and blamed everyone for what happened. I was just so mad and I couldn’t stop— “

“Abby called me two days ago.”

You gasp, “S-She did—?”

“She told me she hated you.” Amaya says plainly. The remaining shards of your heart dissipate like dust, leaving your mouth when you whimper, “O-Okay.” Tears stream down your cheeks and neck, harsh sniffles filling the small corner of the restaurant. “She hasn’t, um… never mind.” That’s why she hasn’t reached out, you suppose. Well deserved.

“I don't… hate you, you know that, right?”

You sob, palms in your eyes, “S’okay if you do. I deserve it.”

She shrugs, “I don’t. I’m just very disappointed in you.” You nod in agreement, in understanding. You accept that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see someone you considered a sister.

“I’m so sorry, May— “

“M’gonna head out. I’m,” She wipes a tear and grabs her bag, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “I… I don’t hate you.” You cry as you watch Amaya gather herself, stand, and leave without another word. You heave and attempt to dry your face with the fresh napkin but they won’t stop flowing.

It’s difficult, accepting that you’re undeserving. That you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you can’t escape. It’s dark and cold and you’re desperate for comfort but it never comes because you chased it all away. You eye the tall bottle that sweats; Very tempting, but you leave it where it stands. The blame for your downfall is yours to take; The only reward you can receive now is from your upkeep. To dig yourself out from beneath the maggot-infested dirt. To resurface and recover what you can.

You’re unsure how long you sit here crying. Devastation sets hard in your tummy when you stand to leave the restaurant, ignoring the judgmental stares from the annoying, old fuckers that wouldn’t stop glaring at you.

The air outside is fresh and soothing as you walk, right past your parked car. Past the young people mingling and taking pictures. Past the girl doing graffiti on the old building across the street. Something beats in your chest when you eye her spray paint cans, brushes in her hand, the bright colors all over her bare arms. Her passion is evident, even from a distance, and you miss that. That feeling that takes over when you create something that no one else can replicate. Her style is unique to her just like yours is to you.

Color sparks in your soul for the first time in a year, and you know what you have to do tomorrow morning.

taggiesss yasss n slayyyy @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl

#in frame ✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #black!reader #black!oc #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

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dreamingofbucky · 11 months

Text

IS IT TOO LATE?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)

summary: He casted you back to your universe. But now he's back and you don't know why. you thought he hated you for the longest time. But that's furthest from the truth.

tags/content warnings: very much angst. heart strings will be pulled at. consensual smut. p in v. love confessions. soft!miguel. fangs are used for pleasure. begging. size kink. praise, like tons of it. mig and reader healing themselves together.

Word Count: 4.2k (whoops)

author’s note: not beta read. mild midnight miguel thots. more angst though with a very happy ending. idk i was in my feelings lol

You could sense him close to you. You always did, even despite your spider senses.

It was like he’s infected himself into you even years later, unable to get him out of your system.

You were in your kitchen, putting away some dishes when you got the feeling of him being near. It was like a prickle at your neck that grew and grew until every hair on your body rose. You whipped your head around the kitchen and narrowed your eyes to find him. You couldn’t though, he was always good at hiding himself.

“Miguel?” Your voice drifted throughout your apartment. It fell flat though and a sigh wringed out of your throat once you realized he wasn’t there anymore.

But then your spine stiffened to its own accord and you whipped your head this time toward the hallway. You grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands before you made your way. You weren’t on guard, but you kept the towel on your shoulder just in case. Your spider strength would probably work just fine, but you didn’t know what he’d want.

“Miguel? I know you’re here, somewhere,” you called out again with more tenacity in your voice.

There was a creak in the living room and you increased your pace until you were at the entrance, flicking on the light that flooded the room. He wasn’t hiding. He was in the corner, staring at a photo on top of your fireplace.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, fingers reaching for the towel on your shoulder.

His broad shoulders slumped for a moment before he finally turned. He was in his blue and red suit, the one you knew very well. He looked better than the last time you saw him. His face though, was contorted in an expression you couldn’t read.

“I–uh, I’m not sure why I came,” he finally mumbles.

You take a step forward and tread lightly. It’s been four years, so you really didn’t know why he came. This was his decision anyway, to leave you and keep you at a distance.

“It’s been years,” you remind him. He finally turns completely and his brown eyes gleam red a little and then fade back to the rich color you once loved.

The man you once swore you loved forever, until he didn’t. Your heart tugged at the memories of what you and Miguel had. Attempting to push those thoughts away to keep yourself from spiraling like before, you clear your throat.

He finally replies. “I had to see you.”

No reason. Nothing else. Just those five words.

You take another step forward and he does too.

“You can’t just come here without an explanation,” you pushed. Your irritation was starting to increase and your patience was starting to thin for your ex.

Miguel is quiet as he stays grounded. But your senses heightened when he lifted his hand and turned his wrist toward you. Before you could react in time, a bright orangish red web shot out of his wrist and latched onto your chest. You grunt as he pulls you into him, closing the distance. You grab the string of the web and pull it off your shirt, but it's stuck.

“Miguel,” you bite. A smile curls at his lips before a talon comes out of his pointer finger and he snips the web.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

“You’re here, because?” You press again. Your heart was hammering against your chest and you were hoping he’d tell you what he needed you for.

“Spider Society misses you.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m sure they do,” you quip.

It wasn’t your choice to leave them. To go back to your universe and live out your days. It was Miguel who pushed you to this point.

You even got engaged two years ago to who you thought you could live the rest of your days with. And then things took a turn. Things didn’t work out. He felt like you were stunted by him in this universe. Although you still did your best to be the Spider-Woman your universe needed, it wasn’t enough.

It was like the action of Miguel casting you out back to your universe made you lose your spark. Made you less of who you were meant to be.

You hate him for it. Well, you did the first year before you started to make a life for yourself here. It didn’t work out, obviously.

The thing was, you never really understood why Miguel did what he did. It was so quick, so sudden, casting you out. You thought you were doing well in Spider Society. You made friends, you aced missions. So what did you do wrong? You even loved him to your best ability.

Was it because you couldn’t put universes first before anyone else in your life? Miguel was so bent up on the idea that sacrifices had to be made when it came to being Spider-Man. Guess that included you.

You were a sacrifice he had to make for a reason you still didn’t know.

“Just wanted to check in, see how you were,” he says in an almost whisper. He drops his gaze to your lips and you gulp. No, you couldn’t feel like this for him. Not anymore.

You lift your hand and press your palm to his chest. He looks at it before his brows furrow. His hand then reaches over and caresses yours. His fingers fiddle with your ring finger.

“Your ring, what happened? Where is it?”

You sigh, attempting to turn on your heel and get away from him but his fingers move to your wrist to keep you there. You knew he’d know about you getting engaged. You got your spider senses alerted whenever he was near the first two years you were gone. You knew he was checking up on you frequently. Until he stopped. He didn’t know the engagement was broken off and you lived alone in that small apartment.

“Miguel, let me go.”

He doesn’t budge, so you press your other palm against his chest for leverage but he doesn’t move an inch. Your emotions are getting heightened from it all and you can feel tears start to spring into your eyes. You feel pathetic.

“What happened?” He repeats, his eyes turning soft and curious.

“Nothing happened. You happy?”

“No–” he shakes his head. “Tell me.”

You sigh, not wanting to fight with him. You had years of it when he started becoming too focused on stopping Spider people from disrupting their canon events. Those fights ended up pushing you both to a point that couldn’t be turned back around.

“Miguel, I’m not in the mood. I’ve had a long day. It’s late.”

“Dime qué pasó,” he almost pleads.

Well, if it made him let you go then you had no other choice. You took a deep breath and stared at him. You needed him to know what he did and how it resulted with you no longer having an engagement ring.

“He left me, Miguel. Does that make you happy? He saw how much I couldn’t handle being so far away from my people. From my friends. From you. He saw how it ruined my life being stuck here. I tried so hard to fake it until I was happy, but he saw through it all. He loved me so much that he let me go. Unlike someone who casted me out–”

“I didn’t cast you out because I didn't love you,” he interrupts with a growl. His face leans closer and your core flutters.

Fuck, your body could still react to him like no time has passed.

“We were young,” you argue. “That wasn’t love, the longer I had time apart to contemplate it. We were simply infatuated, but that wasn’t love.”

“It was for me, sabes esto.”

“No, it wasn’t Miguel,” you bite.

Miguel is silent, dropping his hand. You take a step back, a deep breath leaving your lips. His own shoulders move softly with his breathing. Some of the strands of hair at the top of his head fall over his temple and forehead. You want to so desperately lift a hand and brush them back in place. But that's not something you can do anymore.

You take another step back, finding yourself sitting on your couch. You placed your elbows on your knees and took a deep breath. You heard his footsteps follow and he knelt down, placing a finger under your chin and lifted you enough to see him. To look at his eyes that are yearning for you to speak to him.

“Mira, I lied. They didn’t miss you. I did. I stopped checking in on you to give you space. To move on.”

You scoff. “You can see how well that worked out.” You lift your naked ring finger to make a point.

“I needed to see you one last time.”

This brought you to straighten your spine and look at him with widened eyes. “Last time?”

He nods.

“What do you mean, Miguel?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’m not going to check in on you ever again. You won’t be bothered by me. I’m taking some space from Spider Society as well. They’re better off anyway.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. He was going to demote himself from the society he created for us? One of the best places you’ve been able to call home for years. You missed it dearly, you couldn’t deny that.

“You can’t just leave them. They need you.”

Miguel’s eyes cast down and this time it’s you bringing a hand under his chin and lifting enough for him to look at you. You scoot a little closer to him where your knees brush. A fire burns in your belly.

“They don’t. I hurt people. I hurt you. I need space and time before I can come back and delegate again. I took things too far.”

“So you’d rather disappear than try to fix things? Did you ever plan to allow me back to Spider Society?”

He shakes his head. “I thought you’d be content here with him. You seemed so happy.”

You laugh. “That wasn’t happy, Miguel. That was coping.”

His thick brows furrow. “No, you were happy.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself? Are you really trying to control the truth? I wasn’t happy. I thought I could play along with this life to deal with everything. I was in survival mode. It was purely a facade. Imagine being introduced to a safe haven and then being stripped of all access to it and its people. That’s what happened to me. I had no choice but to try to make a life for myself here.”

Miguel is quiet for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line. His forehead wrinkles as he thinks deeply.

“This would be easier if I hated you.” He finally mutters.

Now you’re the one raising a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Call this an atonement,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, but I’m not sure bringing you back would fix things. What happened can’t be undone.”

“I never asked for you to fix it. I’ve learned how to make this my home. It was a home before I got my Spider abilities and it could be my home after.”

“But you’re not happy. You just said so yourself,” he counters.

You huff out a breath, exhausted at all of this back and forth. Why was he really here? If he wanted to see you one last time he could’ve done that without making himself known. He could’ve creeped in the shadows to do it.

“What do you want?” The words are sharp and roll off your tongue like venom. His hands raise and rest on your knees. He’s still kneeling and he scoots closer. A hand travels up your thigh and you suck in a breath.

“One last time,” he repeats so softly you almost miss it.

“We already had our one last time,” you say quietly. You remember that last time you felt him near you. That was when you truly thought that was the last time you’d feel him in your universe.

“No, bebita,” he responds gruffly. “I need you one last time.”

His words aren’t registering in your brain.

“You made it very clear you didn’t need me.”

“Will you let me finish?” His eyes connect with yours and your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“Finish then,” you push.

“It’s easier to hate you because then I could move on. I never did, bebita.” The nickname rolls off his tongue in a way that makes your core flutter and you clench your thighs.

“I–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Casting you out was the worst thing I did. I couldn’t take it back, my pride wouldn’t let me. I loved you so much, but I couldn’t say it. It was always on the tip of my tongue. You were it for me, bebita. It crushed me even more to see you making a life for yourself here. Finding a partner to be with, that was the worst of it. It took me months to deal with that one. But I couldn’t risk losing you to the things we did for the universes we saved. Pushing you away was the hardest thing to do, but the safest. If I didn’t have you to sacrifice in life or death situations, then that's what I had to do. I couldn’t lose you in those ways, I just couldn’t.”

His confession brings tears to your eyes and you wrap your hands around his neck. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. You take a deep breath and he does too. Soon, your breathing becomes sync with his.

“You hurt me,” was all you could say.

“I know, bebita, I know. I’m so sorry. I loved you–I love you so much. It felt like the only way I wouldn’t lose you.”

“But you ended up losing me anyway in the process,” you remind him. He nods.

“I lost you anyway. Please forgive me. Or did I come at the wrong time where that’s not possible? Is it too late?”

You contemplate it for a moment. You hurt for so long with his decision, but now you know why. He did it because he loved you so much. It reminded you of your ex-fiance. He broke things off because he loved you and wanted you to find your true happiness. He knew it wasn’t with him as much as he wanted it to be.

Funny how it’s the same concept with Miguel, but not quite. Miguel’s way was harsher and broke you. But he’s here now apologizing and on his knees.

All the feelings of your life with Miguel come back surfacing. The good and the bad. But he was the best thing in your life.

“And what would we do after this? Would you just leave and never see me again? After everything that’s been said?”

He grabs your cheeks and pushes you back a little. His face is pained as he thinks of a response. He leans in, kissing your forehead before kissing your nose and then your cheeks. “I don’t know anymore. Lyla asked me the same thing.”

You smiled softly. “Lyla… I missed her.”

Miguel smiled as well, tears in his eyes. “She misses you everyday. She might be the reason why I came tonight.”

“I’m glad, then,” you say. This brings another smile to his face and your heart warms. Your whole body warms.

“Miguel,” you whisper. He leans in again, pressing his lips to your nose. You inhale his scent for a moment.

“I can’t repair what’s been done.”

“You can’t,” you concede. “But we can take it day by day.”

“Really?” He says with a little happier tone.

You nod. “But you can’t do that again. Don’t push me away. Don’t make me think you hate me. That I was the worst thing in your life.”

A sob pulls through you and tears cascade down your cheeks. Miguel is quick to brush them away with his thumbs. He finally brushes his lips against yours and you stiffen at the movement.

“Can I?” He asks softly.

Instead of answering, you lean in to close the distance. His lips were soft and the memories of kissing him all over filled your senses. Your body still craved him, you just pushed those feelings as down as you could.

He continues to kiss with passion, like a man starved. His tongue presses against your teeth and you part your mouth, allowing him inside. He groans a little at the feeling and a moan escapes your own lips.

“Let me make it up to you, por favor,” he asks, moving his hands to your thighs and running them up until they find your hips. You hitch your breath at the feeling and you nod.

“It won’t make up for all these years, but you can try,” you say with a little spite and a little tease. Something in you wanted him to work for it. You couldn’t just forgive this easily, he had to know how much you hurt all this time.

“I’ll live the rest of my days making it up to you then, bebita,” he kisses you once more before moving his hands from your hips to your backside. He pulls you hard closer to him before you’re straddling your hips. You squeal from the sudden movement and then he rises. He starts to walk as you continue to kiss, as if he mesmerized the layout of your apartment from his check-ins. This brought another flutter to your core and you needed him in more ways than one.

He enters your bedroom and plops you on the bed softly. You shift yourself up to the pillows and he climbs the bed alongside you. Your hands come up to his hair, making their home in his strands as he continues to attack you with kisses. He moves his lips to your neck and you moan loudly, bucking your hips up. He groans from the sounds.

“Bite me,” you plead through breaths.

“Estás seguro?” he asks, lifting his lips from your neck for a brief second. You push his head back down to your bare skin and nod.

“Yes, please, Mig. Bite me like you used to. Fuck me like you used to. Make me whole again,” you plead. You can’t help the tears that come back to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. He doesn’t notice though, which you’re grateful for.

He obliges though, kissing your neck and then you feel something piercing you. His fangs sink into your skin and it feels wet instantly. You moan through it, leaning down to bite his own neck.

“F-fuck,” he moans once his fangs pull out. He lifts his head to look at you and it’s like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. His eyes light up and then turn into a feral thing you were so used to in the past.

Miguel knew how to be gentle with you when he could, but you always noticed the way his eyes would turn red with a primal need to love you until you were thrashing and screaming his name, clenching around him.

You needed him to go that far. You wanted him to.

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper finally.

His eyes search yours before he nods and snakes his hand under your hair and wraps his fingers around the strands until he can pull your neck the other way. He leans in and you feel that pain again as he sinks his fangs into the other side of your neck. Your hips buck up again and you gasp.

“Smell so good, taste so good,” he murmurs. His lips travel lower, kissing your collarbone. He helps you out of your mundane clothes before you’re lying naked in front of him. With a press of his watch on his wrist, his suit pixelates into nothing until he’s there naked over you. You forgot for a moment his suit does that.

“Please, Mig,” you say in deep breaths as you feel his erection pressing against your hip. You reach down blindly, feeling for his cock and then caressing it in up and down motions. He groans through this and curses under his breath, jutting his hips further into your hand.

“Need you,” he pleads.

“You have me,” you assure him.

He lifts himself on his knees which causes your hands to fall from his cock. He then begins to stroke himself and you spread your legs around him. His eyes glance down at your core and your cheeks heat.

“So fucking pretty and wet already for me, bebita. Just like I knew you’d be.”

You just nod as you stay transfixed on him, rubbing his cock before he positioned himself at your entrance. You didn’t care for him to prep you, you needed him now.

“It’s going to hurt, tell me to stop if you–”

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. You made a point by reaching down and grabbing his wrist around his cock and aligning yourself with his tip. You pressed his tip against your fold and you both gasped. You shut your eyes briefly at the wonderful sensation.

He always fucked you so well, that was something you missed. And now he was here, doing just that.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” he grunts as he presses himself into you, inch by inch.

The pain soared throughout your body with each inch, but you didn’t care. You finally had him again and your cunt clenched around him. He moaned at the movements, but you couldn’t help yourself.

When he finally pressed into you all the way, you both took deep breaths. He leaned in, pressing his palms into the mattress to support himself. He shifted a little, moving inside you and you whined.

“So big,” you gasped.

“You can take it, bebita,” he cooed. “You always did so good for me, you can do it again. Okay?”

You nod, biting your lip as he moved his hips to slowly pull out of you and then he slammed back in, causing you to shift up on the bed from his strength. He curses under his breath again and you whine at the stretch of him. His girth was bigger than you remembered and you swore he was splitting you in half, but you loved it.

“More, more,” you begged and he obliged. He snapped his hips back and forth into you, earning a cry from your lips at each thrust.

“So pretty when you cry for me,” he groans as his hips start to grow sloppy. He was getting closer to his release and you were too.

Your core tightened and your pussy clenched around his cock in a beautiful way.

“So close,” you mumbled through his thrust.

“Come with me, bebita,” he says before leaning down, sinking his fangs into your neck once more. This makes all your sensations come alive and you can’t hold back anymore. Your legs wrap around his waist, causing him to push deeper into you and hitting the best parts.

“I’m going to–” you screamed before you felt everything explode. You saw stars, your body was shaking, and he was holding onto your tightly. He dropped his head into the crevice of your neck and muttered nonsense as he came right after you. Rope after rope of his cum filled you up and you clenched around him even more, milking his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as his hips stuttered and he collapsed over you. “Please don’t do that, not gonna last the night.”

You giggled, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist. You both breathed intensely but you were so fucking happy.

“I love you, bebita,” he finally says, lifting himself to look at you. He wipes a strand of hair that was stuck on your forehead. You grab his face and kiss him. He moans deeply and his cock twitches inside you.

You squirm underneath him. “I love you too, Miguel. Always have, always will.”

He kisses you back with more passion. “You mean it?”

You nod and laugh as he tickles your side. You try to squirm away, but it’s hard with his cock still in you. Your pussy flutters around him again and he groans. “Bebita, that will only make me go for another round.”

“I know,” you confess with a smile.

You had years of catching up to do, anyways. You didn’t plan to leave that bed anytime soon.

Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around you before flipping you both over. His back plopped on the bed and you were straddling him above, your head laying on his chest.

“You don’t have to ever forgive me,” he whispers, stroking your bare back. “But I hope you give me the time to make it up to you.”

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. He cranes his neck to look down at you.

“It’s not too late,” you finally answer and those words were all he needed to hear.

#miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse #spiderman #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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atinycafe · 10 months

Note

I NEED HONGJOONG AND A READER WHO'S IN SUBPSACE FOR THE FIRST TIME, HOW WOULD THE AFTERCARE GO (its okay if u dont write for that, you can just ignore my request <3)

warnings: nsfw under the cut, dom!hongjoong, slight dumbification, sub space, use of pet names (pretty, baby, babydoll, sweet girl), protected sex (yay!!!), soft sex, doggy style, 0.9k wrds author's notes: im not uncomfy but im just not very into it so i have no idea if what i wrote acc is enjoyable to people j,ndfcgvh, and also the fact that idk anything about the kink, so this whole thing might be wayyy off topic masterlist

the sea sparkles brightly as the waves sway in a mesmerizing dance. you can hear the gentle sounds of the sea ebbing and flowing against the sandy shore. soft light spills into your summer house, illuminating it, while the balcony is open, allowing the ethereal white curtains to sway in the breeze.

you would coo at the little crabs if you could, as they reveal themselves on the shore. however, the insistent pounding noise behind you forces you to roll your eyes, blurring your vision. cries escape your lips as his hands settle on the small of your back, causing you to arch involuntarily. pressed onto the bed, your hands stretch out in front of you, grasping at nothing, your forearms hovering out of the mattress.

hongjoong's thighs slap against yours, propelling you forward with each motion. he's intense, his painted fingertips exerting firm pressure on your skin, leaving marks behind.

"my pretty baby," he sighs, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. his gaze remains fixated on the way your ass moves on his. biting his bottom lip, he suppresses his moans, not wanting to drown out your sweet whimpers. those whimpers, so delightful, drive him to thrust harder, fueled by pure desire. "you're so good for me, so adorable. i love you so, so much. do you love me, babydoll?"

it takes a moment for the question to register as you melt under his touch, but you manage to slurr out a response, "love you too," causing him to moan aloud. he smiles, enchanted by the slow pitch of your voice, finding you utterly endearing.

"good girl, always listening to me, takin' me so well, so good," he mumbles, feeling his climax building. he senses yours approaching too, as you tremble and writhe, succumbing to a mere state of wet neediness beneath him. "are you close, pretty? i can feel your pussy suckin' me in. such a greedy girl."

simultaneously, you both reach the peak of pleasure, your bodies giving in to exhaustion. you would slump onto the bed, were it not for hongjoong's strong hold on your waist. he withdraws, quickly discarding the condom, tying it off and tossing it aside. he turns you around, carefully examining your face with tender concern shining in his eyes.

immediately, he notices the dazed look in your eyes, your pupils fully dilated, and the post-orgasmic haze reminds him of his past experiences with ex-partners and their subdrop. he never expected it from you. your relationship has been going well for the past six months, the sex relatively vanilla, but hongjoong doesn't mind. not when you look so irresistibly cute beneath him. your inexperience led him to tread lightly with his more dominant side, but it came naturally to him, and unconsciously, you submit to him during intimacy. so, when he sees that familiar unfocused gaze, his body instinctively reacts.

"baby, look at me," he leans in, positioning his face right in front of yours. you offer him a lazy smile, playfully scrunching your nose, and he reciprocates with a gentle smile. "how do you feel, babydoll?"

you mumble something inaudible, attempting to provide an answer. anything will do when your tongue feels too heavy, too clumsy, too uncoordinated in your mouth. you blink slowly, the contact of his hand against your forehead creating a warm, fuzzy sensation in your brain. it blurs the periphery of your vision, allowing you to focus solely on his pretty face.

he's smiling, his teeth gleaming brightly. they seem sharp in the golden light. you feel like you're floating, detached from your own body, much like when the alcohol becomes too much. in both scenarios, hongjoong is always there to ground you.

"can't use your voice right now mmh pretty, tongue feels heavy huh," he remarks knowingly, and your eyes gradually widen as the information seeps into your brain, wondering how he knows. he smiles at your expression and murmurs a soft "cute."

"baby i need to clean you up, can i go get the towels," he asks, adjusting the pace of his words, ensuring they align with your clouded mind's comprehension. you take your time to process, your thoughts still hazy and elusive. but when you realize that his suggestion involves him leaving you alone, even for a minute, a visible sadness etches itself onto your face. you manage to release a small whimper before he soothes you with a hushing sound.

his voice lowers, deep and resonant, as he whispers promises of not leaving you alone. he settles down beside you, his arm forming a comfortable support under his head, and draws you into his embrace for cuddling. he guides your head to rest on his bare chest, the stickiness of your sweaty skin unimportant to either of you. you begin to feel drowsy, but you still crave his attention. so, you maneuver your head to get a glimpse of his face, only to find his chin in your view.

sensing your gaze on him, he tilts his head down until your droopy eyes meet his, shimmering with light. a smile forms on his lips as he raises his eyebrows, questioning you wordlessly. he runs his free hand through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, as if coaxing your brain back into action.

you open your mouth, but no words emerge, and hongjoong can't help but coo at your slightly frustrated expression. he leans closer, his lips descending upon yours, delivering a tender kiss, while softly suckling your bottom lip.

"my sweet girl, fucked you so hard you forgot how to speak."

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justaaveragereader · 3 months

Note

Hihi!! First of all I love your writings and I've been meaning to ask for a long time teehee 🤭 It doesn't have to be long or a full fic but could I request a friends to lovers san smut where hes your best friend and gets jealous of you talking to this one guy constantly so one day while you're calling that guy he fucks you while youre on the phone 👀👀👀 sorry if its so specific djdjsjd thank you <33

Hello🖤! First off thank you for loving my work I love you. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I’m here now, and hopefully don’t disappoint! Friends to lovers?!? Ooooweeee this was my first time, and I wanted to make this shorter but once again I couldn’t help myself😵‍💫this was such an amazing request how could I have shortened it😭?! Also never apologize about being specific, I LOVE when requests are specific it gives me a clear direction to head in!

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Sharing Isn’t Caring

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Dom!San, Sub!Reader, Oral (Lotssss Of Pussy Eating), Possessiveness, Jealousy, Humiliation, San Is Down Bad For The Reader, If I Missed Anything…👀Lemme Know

✍️Masterlist✍️

“Idk why you even talk to that guy, he's a complete tool.”

“If he’s a tool what does that make you Sannie?”

Cutting your eyes to your childhood best friend. Whose eyes you swore almost popped out of his skull. You guys were constantly together, both of your friend groups had joked that you were last lovers in each lifetime. You’d be lying if you said that you stopped looking at San as a “best friend” a while ago, but you didn’t want to tread that murky water.

“Wh-What does that make me?! It makes me a guy who's looking out for his bestfriends best interest! I don’t trust this guy, you saw how he looked at me last time I brought you lunch?!?”

Letting out a huff, you finish zipping up your backpack. Cramming as many books in there as you can fit because this “tool of a guy” San was having a heart attack about was your lab partner.

“San, you slammed the bag down on the table, startling the poor guy. Then you decided to enjoy the scenery.”

“It was a nice area, I was enjoying the environment!”

“Choi San, we were in the library! It was 1:00pm on a Tuesday, everyone was in class or at work. There was nothing to see. Not to mention you sat right in between me and him!”

Smacking his lips, he kicks his foot slightly, you can see his blush creeping upon his neck, his eyes shooting down to the floor muttering not so quietly how he was just enjoying the view, and how the middle seat had the best view.

“San there was no middle seat, you literally dragged a chair in between me and him, I watched you pick up his chair and move the man down the table.”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you walk up to San, putting your finger under his chin lifting his head so he locks eyes with you. He swore he could see his future play out in your eyes, maybe he was hallucinating, maybe he was a love struck idiot but he felt it, you were his person, you are his person.

“He’s just my lab partner, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

The redness from his neck traveled to his ears, lightly dusting his cheeks as well. He was so in love with you. Your face crinkled as you smiled at him, but the way you asserted yourself in one simple sentence just sent him over the edge. He could feel his heart pop like confetti, he also felt his cock come to life.

Squishing his cheeks in between your hands, flashing him a smile once more, turning on your heels towards his front door. You were big on being on time, entertaining Sans shenanigans you were always late. His body moves like it’s on autopilot, walking quickly towards your fleeing figure. Just as you open the door his hand comes up to close it. You can feel his heavy breath on the back of your head.

“San what are you doing?” You whine out, turning around to poke his chest. As your eyes shoot to him you see that look in his eyes, that look he’s given you many times. The same look he gives when you talk to a man too long for his liking.

“I really don’t want you han-.”

“Hold that thought, San!” Picking up your phone, you slide your thumb across the screen. His body puffs up, in an aggressive like manner, this lab partner was crossing too many boundaries with his person. It's almost like he’s underwater, seeing you smile, seeing you laugh at another man that isn’t him. You look at him with a face of confusion, eyebrows drawn up.

Biting his lip, you watch as his eyes darken. He’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen. The light that’s behind them dies, and fills with hunger, with ache, with possession. His hand comes to grip your hip, shoving you against the door. His body towers over yours, his chest crushes against yours. Putting the phone to the side, he can hear your lab partner continuing to talk. The chipper tone in his voice pisses him off even further.

“What are you doing?” You whisper/whimper, his knee coming up into between your thighs resting against your clothed cunt. You choke up at his sudden actions, everything feels like it’s happening so fast. His predatory gaze knocks the wind out of you.

“I’m not really too big on sharing, especially when it comes to you.” He whispers quietly into your ear, his warm breath sends a shiver down your spine. His cologne clouds your senses. Your cunt clenches around nothing, you have never wanted San more than you want him now.

“Y/n Y/n! Did you hear me?” Your lab partner's voice knocks some sense back into you. It feels like your tongue is knotted in your mouth, you feel his fingertips start to brush against your lower stomach, exploring the soft like skin.

“Well aren’t you going to answer him baby.” He whispers into your ear once more, giving your love a soft kiss. His smooth, cool lips on your heated skin is enough to have you driving yourself up the wall. You let out a quiet whimper, your hand dripping, practically letting the phone slip through your hands but San is quick enough to grip your wrist, making sure you don’t drop your phone.

“I’m-I’m he-RE!” You shout at the last part feeling San hike your body up even extra on his knee. Your clit rubbing against the fabric of your pants.

“Are you alright?” Your lab partner says through a laugh, continuing on about your guys' shared project. Sans kisses slowly turn into soft love bites, nipping at your skin leaving small welts behind. He was going to show everyone you were his. He was tired of this song and dance. He was going to take you, all of you.

Undoing the button on your pants, your eyes watch his every move, while he watches every move of yours. His glance is nothing short of wolfish, while your glance is nothing short of prey like.

“I’m going to take what’s mine, do you understand me?” You grunts into your ear. Rutting his hips against yours, you can feel the pulsation from his cock, mouth instantaneously starts to water. He was so much bigger than you imagined. Those late mates staying awake, riding your fingers to completion, curious as to how San would pleasure you, how he would fill you. Nodding your head thoughtlessly your eyes drop down to where his bulge is. Letting out a pathetic whimper you go to grab his hard on that’s straining against his sweats.

Your hand grips your phone muttering “mhms” and fake laughs to let your lab partner know you are still present, which irks San even more. Your attention is supposed to be on him fully.

Hiking your pants down to your ankles he helps you step out of them, kneeling down to help you, when he looks up, catching an eye full of your soaked panties practically calling his name. Your eyes flutter at the way he hawks down your clothed cunt.

Two fingers come up to grab the fabric, pulling it down slowly, as your cunt comes into sight he lets out a groan, not even hesitating he dives face first into your cunt. Causing you to let out a startled moan. His tongue instantly wraps around your clit giving it a good couple sucks before his hands travel up the back of your thighs, hiking one of over his shoulder, while both of his hands come to the back of both thighs prying them open even further to get more of his face into your cunt. He’s practically making out with your pussy, the wet slurping noises of him sucking down your clit, while his hands jiggle your thighs, giving them a light smack, causing your body to jerk in his hold.

His tongue explores more of you, moving down to your sopping hole, as soon as he sticks his tongue in your pussy let’s put a squelching noise. Which sounds like music to Sans ears. As he tongue dives further into you, his nose bumps against your clit. Your body almost caves over from the stimulation. His hand shoots up to your figure pushing you up right against the door. Surely all his neighbors heard what he was doing to you, surely your lab partner knew by now what was happening to you. Thrashing his head around so your clit gets bumped back and forth you drop your phone on the ground, San can hear your lab partners calls to you, asking if you are okay, yet you are so high on San the only thing you can make out is the way he’s feasting on your cunt. Sticking his tongue out, he rubs it all over your cunt making sure not to miss a spot, your cries fill the room.

“This pussy is so good, you've been giving my pussy away, huh? Answer me princess.” He groans, while continuing to slurp up your cunt.

“N-no! No!” You whimper out, back arching off of the front door.

Smacking the back of your thigh, he jiggles the meat of them once more, pulling his face back. Chest heaving up and down, he looks up at you, that playful glint in his eyes. He places a kiss right above your cunt, leading all the way up to your belly button. Small welts are left along the way. Spreading your thighs once more so there is a huge gap.

“You've been giving this pussy, my pussy to your lab partner?”

His face dives in the gap between your legs, letting the back of your thighs go so his face is fully engulfed in between you. Your cries ring out even louder in the room.

“No! I would never!” You cry out, you keep chanting to San how it’s his, and only his. Those words alone fuel his need for possession. Stretching his arm he picks up your dropped phone, noticing the call is still active, rolling his eyes at this guys pathetic ass. He shoves the phone towards you. Pulling his face from in between thighs. Your arousal is just dripping off his face, slapping against the floorboards beneath his kneeling figure.

“Tell him.” He says licking his lips, making sure to not let any of your juices go to waste. Grabbing the phone with shaky hands. Your body floods with embarrassment, yet the way San sees your pussy flutter around nothing he knows you're just as turned on as he is.

“Tell him who you belong to.”

Clearing your throat, your body heats with embarrassment. Your eyes never leave Sans watching as he gets a mouthful of cunt again. Making you stutter in your greeting to your lab partner.

“H-Hi.”

He slaps the back of your thighs harshly, sure to leave a small mark. Your eyes focus into San more who has his eyes closed while he tongues you up and down. He truly looks like he’s making out with someone, his eyes shut in pure bliss while his body is relaxed, hands roaming all over you.

“I belong to Choi San.” You quickly squeak out, not wanting this conversation with your lab partner to go on any further. Signifying that this partnership would not travel further than on school grounds.

“Tell him what I’m doing to you too.” He groans from your pussy, the bass of his voice vibrating all over making your toes curl. Letting out a whine you look at San silently pleading to hang up on your lab partner.

“Hes….hes eating my pussy…and he’s eating it real good” voice practically breathless.

“Now tell him you guys will not be friends. So he can get that out of his head.”

“We..we won’t be friends…” you say through a whimper, your dignity and pride was in hell right now.

“Lemme see the phone.” Shoving the phone to San you lay your head back against the door, his fingers coming up to rub small, slow circles around your pulsating clit.”

“You should see how I’m devouring her pretty pussy. It’s such a sight, she’s responsive too. One small flick to her clit and her eyes swell with tears. Probably wish this was you huh? Knuckle deep in her pussy, tongue fucking her, watching her come undone in your mouth.”

San hears shuffling on the other side of the phone, he knows your lab partner is still there.

“I know all about you, and the thing is I really don’t like sharing. Especially when it comes to her. So I think you should find a new partner, because if I catch you staring at my girl again. I’m going to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck her til she can’t even recognize you anymore.”

“I’ll fuck her so long and good, only thing she will be able to mutter is my name. So ima ask you do we have a clear understanding?

The lab partner hesitates to answer, both out of fear and horniness. How could he not be turned on by what he just heard, but he’s heard the stories about Choi San, and he’s not someone who you wanna cross.

Letting out a pathetic yes, he hurries and hangs up the phone. A cheshire cat-like smile crosses his face, pulling his fingers out of you, he stares up at your figure. Eyes shooting down to meet his own.

“No where was I?” He asks rhetorically before spreading your thighs once more.

DO NOT REPOST.

#justaaveragereader anon #justaaveragereader ask #choi san smut #choi san x reader #ateez san #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san x reader #san smut #dom! ateez smut #dom! san smut #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #kpop smut #ateez imagines

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traumxrei-archive · 8 days

Text

【 ii. rose petal wounds 】

summary: from the confines of their study, yuu spots riddle doing an odd task— trimming roses in the garden. wait, why was riddle doing gardenwork…? was this another prank by floyd? either way, yuu had to find out.

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: idk if you can tell, but i absolutely love teasing riddle hehehe (also doesn’t dumple’s art of riddle look so cute ?)

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Distraction, it seemed, came in many shapes and forms. And for Yuu, it came in the color red. There was a flash of red in the corner of their vision. And they allowed themself to be distracted, their gaze following the color to their window.

Yuu was supposed to be putting together the final expenses list for the butler. But never mind what they were supposed to be doing.

What they saw beyond the window was far more interesting.

"Kalim?"

"Oh! Yes, master?"

"What is Riddle doing in the garden?"

Beyond their window was a view of the estate's garden. Part of the ball would be held there, amidst the rose bushes and fountains. And lo and behold, wading through the rose bushes with a pair of pruning scissors was...Riddle.

Riddle was Riddle. Prim and proper, befitting of the Roseheart name. Always ready to help straighten someone's apron at a moment's notice, with conduct and rules at the tip of his tongue.

He was also a bit naive and a lot stubborn, a combination that made it impossible for Yuu to guess why he was in the garden. Maybe it was another prank by Floyd. Or maybe it was his own bullheadedness leading him down another rabbit hole.

"Well," Kalim seemed to hesitate, his earrings jingling as he tilted his head closer. "Riddle told me not to tell you, but..."

"But...?" They prompted, trying to sound innocent to Kalim's ears. They were sure Kalim would let down his guard soon.

"But well...he wasn't satisfied with the roses in the garden!" Once Kalim started it was hard to get him to stop. "We were on a walk yesterday whilst Master was away— just checking on how the flow of the party would be, because that’s important, Riddle said— when Riddle found the rose bushes needed more...pruning."

They folded their arms, "What about the gardener?"

"The gardener...aha..." Kalim looked even more nervous now. "She stormed off after Riddle's questioning."

Ah. Now that was a problem indeed. Riddle wasn't the most unfriendly person, but his words came across as quite confident at times. Confidence and arrogance tread a thin line in the eyes of others, especially those who aren’t familiar with Riddle’s mannerisms. It was possible that the gardener got fed up with being questioned.

"Alright. I'll be taking a break in the gardens then," They brushed off their slacks, neatening their desk before standing. "When tea time arrives, please tell Ruggie to serve it in the garden."

"A picnic! Yes, Master!" They very gently patted Kalim's head, careful not to disturb the ribbon that they were sure Jamil worked hard to tie.

It wasn't very hard to make their way to the gardens. And it was easier still to find Riddle. The garden was empty save for the single maid wielding the shears with a vice, muttering to himself lightly.

"-unacceptable state," Riddle muttered as he snipped off some overgrown leaves, bending down to get a fallen rose. "Master wouldn't be happy about– ah–!"

Yuu's eyes widened at the sight of blood staining Riddle's glove red, and before they could think about it they had stepped forward, taking Riddle's wrist in their hand.

Riddle blinked, "M-Mas...ter?"

"Ah, it's getting on your apron," They tugged Riddle's hand closer, blood dripping onto the grass. "Does it hurt?"

Bewildered, Riddle shook his head, "It…stings."

"Slowly take off your glove, and sit down," They instructed, turning toward the house. "I'll get some bandages."

"Y-You shouldn’t!" Riddle's uninjured hand grabbed their sleeve. "It would be my failure as a proper maid if I made my Master do such a menial task.” Ah. Riddle's stubbornness tended to pop up at the most inconvenient times, it seemed.

Yuu sighed. When Riddle got like this, there was only one thing to do.

"Maid Rosehearts, I would like to treat your wound personally, as you were injured tending to my gardens," Yuu said with a smile. "I hope that you will listen to your Master's selfish wishes."

Riddle looked torn. There was an adorable frown on his face as he continued to think. His obedience to rules and courtesy made this trick handy for more than one occasion, and the outcome was always the same.

The maid finally opened his mouth, "...Of course, Master. Please do as you wish."

It didn't take Yuu long to get the bandages and disinfectant, especially after they ran into Jamil. (The longhaired maid sighed, "Was it Kalim or Silver this time?" They smiled sheepishly before answering, "Actually, it was Riddle." Even the ineffable Jamil had a hard time keeping his expression neutral when he heard that.) And it only took another moment to get back to the garden.

Riddle was sitting on the grass obediently, his back pin straight as they approached, "Welcome back, Master."

Yuu sat down and took his hand again, "Let's clean your hand first." They carefully used disinfectant to clean off the blood around the wound, before cleaning the wound itself. Riddle flinched slightly. It seemed that they should quicken their pace. They carefully wrapped his hand with the bandages.

"All done," They looked up to see Riddle staring. How long had he been looking this way? The red-haired maid immediately looked away with a cough. His cheeks tinted, and they vaguely wondered if it was due to the heat or embarrassment. Either way, it was a lovely look on the usually stern maid.

"Thank you, Master," Riddle bowed slightly, flexing his hand. "If I may ask, how did you know that I was here?"

"I was working when I saw you from my window," It wasn’t necessarily a lie. It was a white lie. They weren’t going to throw Kalim under the bus, since they did get effectively distracted by Riddle’s hair. "I also got these."

They dropped a pair of gardening gloves onto Riddle's lap, "Gardening...gloves?"

"If you want to keep pruning, I want you to do it safely. And besides," Yuu grinned as they pulled out another pair of gloves and shears. "I'll help you out this time."

"Master!" Riddle looked absolutely horrified at the thought. They almost chuckled. "You are going to inherit the Duke's title soon, you mustn't spend your time doing something so trivial as gardening!"

"Then what if I ask you to teach me?" Yuu said before they stood up, dancing away from where Riddle was trying to take their gloves. "As a way to broaden my horizons?"

Riddle huffed, brushing off his skirts and petticoats, ready to go after them, "A maid cannot teach their Master."

"I give you permission to," They waved over Riddle's shoulder. "Is it tea time already?"

Ruggie looked to be carrying a picnic basket, "We're getting to it, shishishi~"

Ruggie's laughter made Riddle sputter slightly, "T-Tea out here?"

"Riddle! Did you get hurt?" Kalim was also running toward them, his apron flying wildly behind him. It seemed that he had a tray of cakes in his hands. It was a wonder that none of them fell as he was running.

Riddle sighed, clearly defeated, "I am fine now. Master has tasked me with teaching them how to prune roses." Yuu beamed at Riddle’s cooperativeness. It seemed that Riddle had finally given in.

Ruggie spread a picnic blanket over the sunny ground, just as Kalim set down the cakes. And Riddle… He started on the tea. Tea was his specialty after all. They sat on the blanket next to Ruggie as they waited. There was a time for arguing over technicalities, and there was a time to serve. For now, they would look forward to Riddle’s tea.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

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#/trau writes #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst

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nanqmies · 11 months

Text

Priest!Baizhu | Drabble+ Hc

tw: lowkey manipulative baizhu?? creampie, masturbation, semi-public sex, very religious themes, m!reader, dubcon?? idk, if i forgot anythin please inform me!!

wc: 0.7k

a/n: i do apologize for not postin that much!! i have a lot going on 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹 , writers block is kickin my ass.. i do have fics in the works!! m tryna to make everything more pleasin to the eye, i will try to make a masterlist soon ^^ please enjoy my work.♡

nsfw under the cut~

Priest!Baizhu; who kindly welcomed you to the church with open arms, always inviting you to his sermons to listen to him preach the words of archon. Seeming so kind, a humble smile always on his face while preaching at the stand, welcoming others into the church. Soft voice filling the room as he spoke, sending heat down to the deepest parts of you.. Utterly mesmerizing, the way his soft eyes scanned over the room, pushing up his glasses when the slide down the slope of his nose. His eyes ended up being on you at the end of the day.

Priest!Baizhu; who listens to every single time you avow your deep urges, whispering in shame of the sinful thoughts that constantly flooded your mind when you thought of him. How shameful you are, giving into the hands of sin,, you never notice how his eyes darken as he listens, Priest baizhu is a mysterious man they say..

Priest!Baizhu; who can’t help but laugh at how cute you are, trusting him with all the little things you’ve told him behind the confessional walls. How much you yearned for a certain mans touch against your untouched skin, to ruin the only true form of purity you had.

Priest!Baizhu; who pops a boner whenever you sob and beg archons to forgive you and your misbehaviors. Maybe he should feel bad,, clearly your faith was a big part of living, but god the tears flowing down the apples of your cheeks make him want to ruin you. Wiping your tears with his thumbs, whispering prayers whilst rubbing your back softly,, telling you everything will be okay when he’s there. That he’ll gracefully listen to any of the problems you may have,, hushing your hiccuping sobs. he hopes you don’t notice the tent in his pants

Priest!Baizhu; who ends up touching himself after speaking to you, lightly rubbing his glands with his fingertips, smearing thick beads of pre over his length. Baizhu obviously knows how perverted he is, thinking of ruining you, rutting his hips against his clasped palm. Sticky white covering his thin fingers, he sighs and takes off his glasses. A light layer of sweat over his forehead, you’ve clouded his mind for weeks.

Priest!Baizhu; who (sometimes) when he’s feeling risky will tread his hands down his pants while listening to your voice in the confessional, shallowly stroking his shaft trying to keep in his breathy groans. Nearly coming in his pants when your voice is laced with shame. A small part of him wishes you’d hear him, hear him pleasing himself at the sound of your soft voice.

Priest!Baizhu; who always tells you that ‘Theres nothing wrong with such urges ’ whispering in your ears, his hands brushing against your thighs gently pushing them apart.. just enough for your eyes to meet his, a smile painted against his pretty pink lips

was his smile always this unsettling?

Priest!Baizhu; who ends up fucking you in the the confessional booth, ripping off your modest attire, defiling you in public, shushing you when you get too loud reciting the words from the holy book in his hand. Ripping away the only form of purity you had, taking your virginity as retribution for your sins. Baizhu’s thumbs pressed harder into your hips, he can barely keep in the groans that bless his lips. Committing such sacrilege in the house of the lord above, turned him on in such a way.

‘It’s the only way you’ll be forgiven’

Priest!Baizhu; who comforts you when his cocks aggressively enter and leave your sex, shushing your tears and promising that you’ll be reborn pure after he blows his load into you. His words singing false promises into your ears, its oddly comforting.. the feeling of being so full in his warm embrace,,

Priest!Baizhu; who thinks about making you worship him instead, shouldn’t you be begging him to save you? Maybe he hasn’t fucked the greedful lust out of your system yet.. Every session ends up with you bent over while Baizhu has his way with you, pleading of archon to pardon your transgressions of their word.

‘Oh my love.. you’ll earn your forgiveness soon my dear..’ he kisses the corner of your lips gently.

‘Just keep being a good boy for me..’

Priest!Baizhu; who fills you full with his seed, telling you that the ones above forgive you for your sins,, petting your hair and pressing you against his chest.

Priest!baizhu; who can’t wait for next Sunday to come to redo it all again..

please do not translate, steal or repost my work.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!

#genshin baizhu #06.1.23 #baizhu x male reader #baizhu #baizhu x reader #nanqmies #genshin #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #baizhu genshin impact #baizhu gi #genshin x y/n #genshin x male reader

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multi-lefaiye · 2 years

Text

aaaaand ok mmmmm on second thought i probably won’t post writing tonight per se

however. if u want to be tagged when i post the Sad Juno Character Study,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, let me know

#multi makes text posts #probably gonna tag the a modern ghost story taglist if i remember to #but this is just for juno and not that so idk #fair warning it's going to have discussions of domestic violence/abuse in general #so if that might put you in a bad headspace pls tread lightly

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 22 days

Note

Hiiii me again

Related to the post about the ownership of characters and the tags you put-

I just wanted to mention that you’ve given me a lot of confidence. I used to be the type of person who believed “if your oc even breathes in the direction of a canon character, it’s cringe and Mary Sue and you’ll be ripped to shreds for it.” I’d have to tread so lightly with characters I enjoyed and love them from afar because I felt if I made even a joke post someone would bring it up.

I’ve only just gotten into the cod fandom, found your blog a couple months ago, and it’s given me a lot of like. Idk!! Just “fuck it, do what you want” kinda vibes in the best way? It’s really hard to word this lmao. But since finding your blog I’ve made a 141 character, a shadow, literally shipping an oc with ghost now, and I’m having fun that I wouldn’t have if I didn’t find your blog

So thank you <3

Hello! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

Well, It's been an apparent issue in this fandom. idk why, but when I visit other fandoms, the sense of ownership and possessiveness to the characters is not that high, like what's up with these people I don't know. Like, the characters in media, especially in games, don't belong to anyone except the studios that made them 😭

We as fandom members can create original characters, alternative universes, and stuff for them. I can't imagine a piece of media without fanarts, fics, and OC's really. Heck, that's what keeps the fandom alive. If there's one thing we can learn from history of media, is that you can't hold back people's creativity. OF COURSE, there are cringe ones and unhinged ones, but it's fandom, of course, it's filled with different types of people from normal to bizarre ones.

Here's the thing, just because one person has already shipped their OC with one character, that doesn't mean that character is LOST forever to that one particular OC like it's a damn popularity competition 😭.

I've also seen some people saying that they're so emotionally attached to this one character, that if they see him with someone else's OC. they get super emotional and super angry?? Okay that's just-- WOW.

If you feel uncomfortable seeing your favorite character being shipped with someone else, then that just means that you're NOT ready and not mature enough to be an OC creator and be in a fandom space. Full stop.

and if I may speak from experience, I've lost a few friendships due to being... quite popular OC shipper with Ghost 🥲 I personally don't feel anything when I see other's OC's with Ghost, or any character I like with other OC's -- I EVEN DRAW OTHER OC'S WITH GHOST FOR COMMISSIONS 😭

But yeah, before I yap too much, thank you so much for the good words in the last paragraph! It's very very lovely, and I'm glad you have your own OC to have fun with! Happy creating and happy drawing💖!

#thank you so much!#sleepy's thoughts #been wanting to let this out pretty badly now #cuz my goodness lol the amount of immature asks on my inbox are concerning guyssss #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fandom #tagging the fandom cuz it's a pretty big issue

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zeroeightzeroone · 4 months

Text

in this lifetime and the next - seo changbin

genre: angst? sad? hurt? idk two exes are talking about their past relationship

pairing: ex-boyfriend, non-idol!seo changbin x ex-girlfriend!femreader

notes: if this looks familiar, my secondary blog 'zerothreetwentyfive ' was deleted by tumblr (idk why) so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~2.5k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"how…" he clears his throat, "how have you been?"

his eyes are fixed on the night sky. even with the knowledge that he isn't looking in your direction, you still shrug before replying, "i've been… okay."

if someone told you three years ago you'd be lying under the millions of stars sparkling up within the dark night sky, next to your ex-boyfriend, you would've been convinced that person was out of their mind. especially, if that person told you that throughout the trip you would find yourselves alone together coincidentally, eventually finding yourselves sober and in the comfort of your ex-partner laid next to you. a cool breeze drifting by once in a while and everyone else who came onto the trip were either drunk or passed out inside the cottage.

you really would've called an intervention. convinced that they were far too delusional for their own good.

then again, you from three years ago would have never believed there'd come a day when your boyfriend would become your ex. where he would become someone of your past. you from three years ago could not even fathom, nor entertain the possibility of being away from the man, of living without the man. the man you loved more than anything or anyone. a statement that holds true to this day.

truthfully, you believed that he would be the one you would love and be loved by for eternity. believing that you waited your whole life, for everything in the universe to align, paving the path to meet the man you were fated for, the man you would call the one:

seo changbin.

"work's been good? school? life?" changbin's voice is quite soft and his tone is a bit awkward.

he's tiptoeing around his words, trying to figure out how you feel about him. weighing out what you could and couldn't speak about or if you should be speaking at all. the thought of overstepping and potentially making you uncomfortable sits in the back of his mind.

"they've been… more or less the same," you answer.

it's different without you, you think to yourself.

his absence was something you could never get used to after the breakup. three years later and that sense of emptiness looms over your head.

"i got promoted last year," you add.

"oh really? that's great to hear!" changbin's tone is excited but at the same time it's uneasy.

of course, he's excited, and he's proud of you but he still doesn't know how you feel about him right now. what if he makes you uncomfortable with too much excitement? or a lack of excitement? changbin's treading lightly.

"… uh… sorry–"

"—how about you? how have you been?" you're quick to cut him off.

if you didn't, changbin would go on rambling and apologizing; something you picked up on very early into your relationship. the man lying next to you apologizes for everything, regardless of if he is at fault or not. even if there is no fault, he finds himself apologizing anyway.

"last i remember you were working a big project."

changbin blinks, taken aback by the sudden interruption but he composes himself quickly, "o-oh! i've been doing good as well. happy that it's done."

"how'd it go?" you wonder.

"it was... definitely a lot more than we expected to take on. the clients decided they wanted to expand more on their vision. change up a lot of pre-made plans."

"ah, i see... i can't tell if that's good or bad?"

"i'd say it's both," you can hear the slight smile in his tone, "a lot of work done being scrapped which, y'know, isn't exactly ideal. but they agreed to pay us more which is good. i'd say we were rewarded adequately for the work we put in."

you hum, "well, then, i'm happy for you."

silence looms in the air between the two of you. neither of you knows what to say to the other, how to continue a conversation.

the both of you stare up at the stars overhead; most of which you aren't able to see on a daily due to the light pollution in the city. while there is a silence that has fallen between you two, it's not an uncomfortable one. neither of you are itching to escape an awkward atmosphere, to escape being around your ex. instead you find yourselves in a comfortable space in the presence of the one lying next to you.

basking in a presence neither of you has had the opportunity to be comforted by, let alone be around, in the past three years.

you find yourself instinctively fiddling with the ends of your hoodie sleeves, pulling them over your hands and hiding them inside. beside you, changbin adjusts his arm to rest behind his head while the other one rests on his stomach.

"y'know what this reminds me of?" he says suddenly, in a hushed tone, "reminds me of our two-year anniversary."

tearing your eyes off the sky, you turn your head to changbin's direction.

you let your eyes linger on him for a moment. entranced by how the stars and the moon illuminate his features in such a soft and gentle manner. it's been three years since you've been this physically close to changbin, let alone seen the man, you can't help but analyze his features like it's the first time. looking over the features you fell in love with way back when.

changbin looks just as amazing as ever, maybe even more attractive. he still sports those soft, dark curls in his shaggy hair that falls right under his eyes. he's more buff in comparison to when you last saw him three years ago.

the longer you let your eyes look over him, the more you're taken back, that sense of nostalgia washing over you. he's right, this moment is reminiscent of your two-year anniversary.

you remember the months leading up to that day as if it were yesterday.

you remember repeatedly asking your boyfriend how you two should celebrate the milestone that was coming just around the corner. in response, he would always say he would be the one to take care of everything and that all you needed to do was sit back and relax.

the boy was clad in light blue denim jeans, a navy varsity-styled jacket with a white shirt underneath, his hair tousled as it fell in front of his black-rimmed glasses when he knocked at your door. greeting your family before whisking you away for a night you will never forget.

changbin quite literally drove you off into the sunset, one hand gripping the wheel whilst his other held your hand in his. the both of you belting out to the playlist you created together, one that grew as each day passed.

by the time you arrived at your destination, the sun had set behind the skyline as the dark sky loomed over the city. you remember the way your jaw slacked in awe at the breathtaking sight of all the stars.

"i've never been this close to the stars! they're so much closer from up here!"

you stood there gaping at the stars for what felt like eternity, while changbin stood beside you, his eyes full of affection as he stared at you. oh, his eyes. you would think he captured the stars in his eyes with the way they sparkled at the sight of you. that night on the hill, you and changbin were laid next to each other on the hood of his car, cuddled in each other's arms as you talked about anything and everything that came into your minds.

there you were in the arms of your lover, alone together in your own starry heaven. everything seized to exist other than you and your intertwined hearts.

you and changbin, together against the world.

nothing will ever come close to that level of perfection. that ethereal moment you've etched into your brain, you'd much rather be damned than to have that moment wiped from your memory.

"yeah… it does. the sky, the stars… just... everything brings me back."

"it was definitely not as chilly that night," changbin smiles.

half of his statement refers to the weather and the other half refers to how you were huddled up next to him that night. as opposed to now, where the space between your bodies lets in a cool draft.

you chuckle and shake your head, "the weather was great, not too hot and not too cold. just perfect."

lying next to him, reminiscing on your two-year anniversary as a couple has a question popping up in your minds.

if given the chance, would you go back? would you choose each other again?

the question is nothing new. a recurring thought over the past three years.

over the past three years, you've collected a pool of unanswered questions regarding your relationship with changbin: the how's, what's, when's and why's. how could you not wonder? nothing in the world could surpass your love for seo changbin.

three years later and you have never loved as deeply as you have for the man beside you.

you're both listening to the steady breaths of the one lying next you as both your minds run a mile a minute. allowing a brief silence to settle before changbin is the one to break the silence.

"i'm sorry."

"sorry? ...for what?"

"just… everything."

when you turn to look in changbin's direction, your eyes meet for the first time that night. god, it feels as if your heart stopped at that exact moment. the delay was so long you could have dropped dead right there.

but you lived off the way your eyes locked with changbin's. finding your breath again with each twinkle of the stars reflecting off his black-rimmed glasses. finding your pulse starting up again, this time beating out of your chest as his deep brown eyes bore into your own. breathing the life back into you.

your gazes soften, a wave of nostalgia washing over the both of you; a memory of what you once had together.

a breath of the life you shared three years ago.

you stare at each other wordlessly. soaking in a feeling of comfort neither of you has felt in three years, one you only received from the one lying next to you.

"i'm sorry too. for everything."

"it's not your fault," he shakes his head, "i fell short in the end and i wasn't the boyfriend you deserved."

you're shaking your own head, "i was a terrible girlfriend. i wouldn't have stayed with me either."

"you were–are– amazing," changbin states, "you've always been."

"that's not true. don't say that, i know i hurt you with the things i said."

somewhere along the line of your relationship with changbin, things started to go awry. your lives began to clash; school and work priorities building and creating distance between you two. it felt like your relationship was slowly slipping away, schedules ran tight and pressures ran high.

you remember petty arguments, the back-and-forth bickering between the both of you when you were able to see each other.

"and i hurt you. i was never there when you needed me, i promised you that you could trust me, depend on me but i broke that in the end."

"that's not your fault. i couldn't be there when you needed me either."

"and that wasn't your fault either, our schedules didn't line up anymore."

"but… i could've tried har—"

"there was only so much we could do and you tried your absolute hardest," changbin interrupts you, "time just... wasn't on our side."

you hate to admit that even without the petty, groundless arguments, the end was inevitable.

your relationship no longer fit into the other's increasingly hectic schedule, any and all the attempts came with sacrifices with school or work, and in the end, there was no healthy way to incorporate that time for each other. all the time you did spend together was plagued by stress and high tensions, only pushing you two further apart.

no matter how hard you tried to salvage your relationship, everything else tried even harder to ruin it.

the anger and dejection only grew stronger as time passed. the both of you wondering why things weren't going your way no matter how hard you worked for it. you felt dejected that your efforts came without fruition. upset that the time you did have together was limited, fleeting and full of the pressures your individual lives were weighing on you.

"can i ask something?" your voice is almost inaudible but changbin hums in response, "why did you leave when you did?"

changbin blinks slowly as he processes your words.

"i didn't want things to get worse."

"what do you mean?"

"i didn't want to end things between us on a bad note. for us to part ways hating each other."

"i could never hate you."

"maybe, but we'd grow to resent each other even if we didn't mean to. wondering if our efforts were in vain, that no matter how hard we tried the universe worked harder against us."

"did you… resent me in the end?"

"i would've rather died instead of growing to hate or resent you."

your head snaps in his direction and his to yours. your eyes wide with shock at how he said that without hesitation.

"what we had between us, i didn't want it to be overshadowed by months of arguing."

changbin has never loved anyone the way he loves you.

early on in your relationship, changbin wholeheartedly believed you were the best thing to ever happen to him. no one cared for him, accepted him and understood him in the way you did. no one made him as happy as you did.

when he realized that your relationship became a source of stress in your increasingly hectic lives, he made the difficult decision to leave.

the people that come in and out of your life come either as a blessing or a lesson; changbin believes you are a blessing in his life.

people slip in and out of your life, fuck around and make you rethink everything. the memories of them are associated with the phrases: "i should have known better" or "you learn from your mistakes".

and he would rather be damned than to be a lesson.

he knew that with the direction both your lives were headed into at the time, the end was inevitable and if things between you two had to end then, in your out-of-control lives, he wanted the last semblance of control here.

"the thought of losing you scared me shitless," changbin continues, "but what scared me even more was that you could one day regret all of this, everything we had. that you would leave regretting ever loving me."

"… i didn't know you were thinking that way," your voice trails off at the end, thoughts still delayed as you process the words of your ex-boyfriend lying next to you.

you take a moment before you continue.

"at one point, i wasn't even mad or upset with you anymore... i was mad at the universe. the circumstances."

when you and changbin broke up, you often wondered what the universe had in store for you after such excruciating heartbreak. but the pain didn't even stop with changbin; it seemed like the universe had it against you as else in your life began to downward spiral.

you struggled to adjust to the growing hustle and bustle of your life while also struggling to adapt without your person.

oftentimes, you imagined taking a trek up to climb the tallest mountain in the world. exerting all that blood, sweat and tears for the opportunity to let everything out into the void. you imagined standing on the highest point on earth would be as physically close as you could get to the universe.

maybe from up there, the universe would be able to hear the desperation, the pain that came from wondering what you did to deserve this; to have loved so passionately and to have lost, to experience such excruciating pain.

if the universe didn't align for a life with changbin, you laid awake wondering what it did align for. if it would be worth it.

what could be more worth it than him?

with a bittersweet smile on your lips you say, "nothing aligned for us in this lifetime. maybe, in the next lifetime."

you're trying your hardest to control and suppress your emotions as your eyes gloss over, tears threatening to fall. changbin's eyes stay fixed on you as he, much like you did earlier, analyzes your features all over again as if it was the first time.

changbin pays close attention to every detail, etching it into his mind.

"whose to say that?" changbin's eyes meet your own once again, a glint present in his chocolate brown orbs, "this lifetime isn't over yet."

your eyes, still blown wide with surprise, meet changbin's. you would think he captured the stars in his eyes with the way they sparkled at the sight of you.

"in this lifetime and the next, i'll love you."

"does that mean you'll love me for eternity?"

"our love is so strong it transcends lifetimes. we'll always find our way back to each other."

main masterlist

#stray kids one shots #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz imagine #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz changbin angst #skz changbin imagine #skz changbin one shot #skz changbin oneshot #stray kids changbin angst #stray kids changbin oneshot #stray kids changbin imagine #seo changbin x reader

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