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lovifie · 2 days

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Fishy Business (Mermay'24)

Mermaid!Soap x Reader

4k words - masterlist

Cw: injuries, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, monsterfucking(?, let me know if I missed any 💙

Johnny has been living in the tank for two weeks now.

Discovering mermaids were real, shock the world, but in all honesty, only for a couple of days before the evil human mind started to think of ways to profit out of them.

Luckily, mermaids were not stupid and knew perfectly fine that they needed to stay away from the human reach; almost able to smell the putrid aroma of ill intentions pouring out of them.

But no matter how good they hide, humans still find the way to, even if not on purpose, to damage the ecosystem. And when you get the call that a mermaid got his tail tangled on the propeller of a boat and needed urgent care, you weren't really surprised.

You sent your instructions, so the poor thing could get the needed treatment while you made your way to Pentland Firth.

It only took you a couple of days to reach John Price's aquarium. Gruff, big guy that offered the empty tank at his fish sanctuary to keep the merman until it got released.

A solid handshake was his welcoming greeting when he opened the door and he let you into his house. “It's nice to finally meet you, Doctor. You’re making quite a name for yourself lately.” He said, a kind smile on his face making his beard move with it and wearing a funny looking hat more fitting of a sailor on his head.

“Well, not so hard to do so when there is so little competition in mermaid care.” You answered, not completely lying. Little was known about the mermaids, and almost every paper that got published was the first of its kind. Your name just happened to appear on most of them.

“Then I can assume you know your way around them? Sneaky little shits, with kind eyes and sharp teeth.” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he just remembered something.

“To be completely honest, you have probably seen more than me.” You admit, as you walk next to him, trying to keep up with his pace. “I hear they are quite a number up North, they must like the cold.”

“They like the lack of people.” He almost interrupts you with a low unhumorous chuckle. “This one swam a wee bit to the south… and look what happened.”

You see him shake his head, as if he felt guilty himself of the creature getting hurt. “Anyway, ready to meet him?” He asks, the kind smile back on his face as he takes a corner. He opens the only glass door on the hall, and with a hand on the small of your back, he lets you into the platform sitting over the water surface inside of the tank.

The metal platform rustles with the weight of the man walking alongside, only stopping when he walks up to the man standing at the end of the gangway. Standing just a couple of feet away from them you are able to comprehend their size, massive men, broad, strong, muscular, tall men. They definitely don't look like the classical marine biologist who would own a fish sanctuary.

But then the water splashes, making you look to where the surface of the water is rippling, but without any sign of what causes it.

“Simon, let me introduce you to the doctor. Doctor, Simon here has been the person in charge of following your instructions.” He slaps Simon's back hard, it reverberates against the tank walls but the blonde looks like he didn't even feel it. He is wearing a surgical mask and the rest of his body is covered by a wetsuit. A little contradictory thing.

“Nice to meet you, Simon. How has it been?” You ask, smiling as you look up at him.

“Like givin’ a stray cat a bath.” He mumbles, shaking your hand with a strength that has you trying your best not to shake with it.

“And him? How is it?” You ask, trying your best to be professional and not act like a kid in a candy shop. But the truth is, this is the first time you are going to interact directly with a merman.

“Hm… Like a stray cat that got splashed with cold water.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“You are good with metaphors…” You mumble, hearing Price snickers behind you. “So… not really happy with the treatment, then?’

Simon shakes his head, looking back into the water. “Nah, the sashimi shit doesn't want anyone to touch him, and his tail is looking more and more grey as days go by.”

You hum, nodding as you turn to also look into the water. “I'll work on some antibiotics to pour into the water… it won't be as effective, but it'll be a start.”

Price turns as well, all eyes on the water looking for the creature that seems to have disappeared into the water. Camouflage abilities are not to be dismissed taking in consideration how little is known about them, but if Simon was just dealing with him, they should be able to see it.

You look into the deep end, the hairs of your nape rising when you feel eyes on you. But the water in front of your eyes is empty, not a droplet moving out of his place and the only thing you can hear is both men breathing next to you.

“How does he look? Maybe if I have a mental image I can-”

You don't get to finish your sentence, at least not before you feel a wet hand wrap around your ankle and pull it. Hard.

It doesn't give you time to use your hands to stop the fall before your chin knocks the metal of the ground, the skin bursting at the hard hit. A single drop of blood mixes with the water underneath before two pairs of hands grab your arms keeping you from going under the water.

At the pull of your body, you feel sharp claws rupture the surface of your skin where they are holding you, only stopping when Simon stomps his foot right beside yours, threatening to step on him next.

“Enough, Johnny!” He snarls at the creature, standing between you and him, while you cling to Price's legs. If you end up underwater, you are not going alone.

It is hard for you to focus your sight on anything, panic and pain mixing in your system. Only being able to see the creature when you hear him hiss at Simon. The stray cat comparison of Simon being really appropriate now.

The merman captivates you, looking perfectly human, still knowing that no human would stand so high over the surface in open water like him, your brain forcing you to remember the fish-like tail under the water.

You can't bring yourself to pull your eyes from him, both your hunger for knowledge from finally being so close to a real breathing merman and both for the fine specimen of a man staring you up and down like you will be his next dinner.

It's Price the one that pulls you away, helping you on your feet and keeping his arm around your waist to help you walk without resting weight on your foot as he walks you out of the tank. Behind you, and without you noticing, Simon and Johnny share a knowing look, only broken when Johnny gives him a short nod before sinking back in the water, the taste of your blood still floating on it..

It's already night time when you hear the noises, like a piece of furniture falling against the floor. And against your better judgement, you walk, well, limp out of the room you were laying down in.

Turns out Simon and Price are not the only ones living in the sanctuary, and there is a third man called Kyle who was the one that bandaged up your foot and chin.

The ground trembles under your feet as you walk closer, each step you take letting you know with more certainty that the sound is coming from Johnny's tank. You see it before he sees you, standing in the shadows behind the glass door as the merman swims in circles.

Gaining inertia before slamming his body against the wall of the tank making it shake. You see his nostrils flare with his troubled breathing, the grills on his neck moving just as fast. It's such a worrying behaviour that your doctor brain makes you act on it before you can realise how stupid of a decision it is.

You turn the knob opening the door, barely managing to get a foot in before a deep voice startles you. “What th’ fuck did ye pour intae th’ water?! I'm fucking drowning!”

It takes you a second to realise it is the merman talking to you, muscular chest rising with each hard breath as his arms, big enough to crush a skull, hold his body over the water surface.

It also takes you a second to realise that what he means is the medicine in the water, the pungent taste of the chemicals probably making him struggle to breath as normal as before.

“It's the antibiotics.” You answer, almost mumbling. The lights from the tank making the water reflect into the walls in a beautiful imaginary that almost works to trick your brain into ignoring the danger. “For your tail.”

“My tail is perfectly fine! I dinnae need yer bullshit! I need tae go back!” He shouts back, slamming his fist on the metal like a petulant child.

“It is infected! If it enters your blood system you could die!” You shout back, setting both feet a step further into the tank.

“Lies! Human inventions! I'm perfectly fine!” The water splashes around his body when he waves his tail to push himself further out of the water.

“If you were fine you wouldn't stink of rotten fish!” Another step closer to him.

“I dinnae stink! That's just how I smell!” He sits on the gangway, pushing his body out of the water to do so, the massive tail that forms his lower body making the metal creak under his weight.

The sheer size of it doesn't stunt you, it being just proportional to the width of his upper body. But the scales that cover it, dazzling with the light of the reflections and looking like its own miniature sea. Speckles of blue, green and silver dancing around making it hard to look away from it, and making it impossible to miss the pink colour of the exposed meat. Not grey anymore.

“It is already looking better…” You explain, pointing to his wound as you keep walking closer. “You cannot tell me that it doesn't hurt less.”

He follows the direction you point at, quickly moving back so it is under the water; away from your gaze and making you frown at how little time you had to stare.

“That's just because time went by…” He says, almost mumbling and averting your gaze. “I need to go back.”

“Why?” You ask, the volume of your voice also lowering as you bend down to sit, crossed legged but with the injured one still sticking out. “Somebody waiting for you?”

“Yes!” He raises his voices once again, exasperated with your ignorance of his issues. “Everyone is fooling around, and next year when they all havd their wee bairns I'll be alone and I dinnae wantae! 'n' I cannae dae nothing about it cause a'm stuck here!”!”

His words slowly clicks into place, his eagerness to leave, the specially shiny scales, wandering outside of his territory. “It's mating season… mermaids have mating season?”

This is not the time to be asking these questions, you are here to help the merman heal not to study him like an aquarium specimen. But you can't help yourself to ask, only second guessing yourself when the merman looks at you like you just grew a second head. “Obviously… humans dinnae?”

You stare at him, thinking it thoroughly before answering. “Not… really, no.”

“And when do humans mate?”

“...anytime”

The disgust appears on his face as if you had just insulted him and everyone he has ever loved.

“Ye spend th’ whole year shagging, and then have the balls to call us beasts… hypocrites.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim, suddenly afraid of disappointing the beautiful merman. There is a split second in with you remember every singles fable that talk about dangerous mermaids are, how they lure people in with pretty songs and prettier faces only to get eaten alive, how they trick sailor man to crash their boats in the rocks and then they have a feast on the corpses.

The alarm bell is loud and clear in your head, but just as easily it gets silenced when his wet warm hand lands on your injured foot, right under the bandages. He looks confused at it, eyebrows furrowed and slight pout on his lips.

You shouldn't let him grab you, last time he didn't drown you because Simon and Price picked you up. But you are alone now, and instead of pulling your foot back, you lean in, closer to the creature, and peel the bandages up, showing him the wound.

“I did this?” He asks, his fingertip grazing the skin surrounding the wound. You nod at him, your eyes glued to his face not wanting to lose a single expression of him. He furrows his eyebrows again, his hand moving to rest on the underside of your calf. “Humans are weak… I barely touched ye.”

“We are not weak… You just have sharp nails…” The sound of your voice makes him pull his gaze up, catching how you scratch the skin close to the wound of your chin, the sting from the stitches making you itch.

He pulls your leg again, softer this time, and it should worry you more with how much ease he is able to move you, with a grasp of your foot he easily slides you closer, leaving your feet hanging over the water.

He lays his hand flat beside your leg, propping himself up out of the water. With his arm completely stretched he towers over you, making you pull your head back so you can see his face. He looks down at you, cocking his head.

His other hand finds his way to your jaw, pulling your head even further back so he can see the wound on your chin. You can't see him with the new angle of your neck, but you can feel him get closer to your throat.

The feeling of his breath on the skin of your neck makes every hair on your body stand on end. The alarm bells ring in your head again, this man, as handsome as he is, is still an apex predator in the water that would be able to dismember you in seconds if he wanted to.

Still, and with that knowledge in mind, you have to bite your tongue to keep any tell-tale sounds from escaping you when you feel his face so close to yours.

"I dinnae do this one.... Are ye going to stick to yer theory that ye'r not weak? Or are ye just soft?" his deep voice murmurs, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.

His hand that was on your jaw moves down, resting on your thigh for a second before squeezing the soft flesh. Moving up slowly, dragging it over your skin to your hip, his thumb anchoring itself in the crease of skin between your thigh and your belly. Squeezing the flesh once more making you jump.

As his hand continues to move up, squeezing and whispering against your neck. "Soft... Soft from head to toe.... See? Soft, soft, soft..."

With each repetition of the word, he grabs a different part of your body. Your thigh, your hip, your tummy, your waist and it is when he reaches your chest, his hand wrapping around the soft flesh of your breast that he finally gets a sound to fall from your lips in the form of a faint moan of his name.

"What is it, my soft girl? I can feel yer pulse rising..... It's not fear, innit? Or something… else?" The whine that escapes your lips echoes against the walls of the tank, encouraging the merman in his movements.

The merman presses his wide body between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart to accommodate his width. And before you are able to form a full thought, about everything that is wrong with your actions; how morally wrong, how dangerous, what this could mean for your career... you feel the man's wide tongue travel from your collarbone to behind your ear, scorching your skin with the heat of his body.

Your hands grip his shoulders on impulse, feeling the strength leave your body as you feel him roll his hips against yours.

His assault on your neck continues, nibbling and licking until you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. By the time you realise you are lying on the platform, opening your eyes to see the massive merman on top of your body with lust in his blue eyes.

You look down to where his hips are pressed against yours when you feel an unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone. Once again, a day's worth of interactions with this specimen is proving more productive than previous years of study, for the great unknown of how mermaids reproduce has just been revealed to you as you see the merman's member lying on your body.

And you are only aware of what kind of expression you have to have on your face when he speaks to you. "What's the matter, ye humans donnae have this either?"

"No, no, they have it, like... some do, but not so... like this.”

Once again, a deep chuckle drips from his chest making you look up to him as he looks down on where your pyjama shorts stick to your clothes when they get wet from the water dripping from his body. His fingertips bury themselves under the hem of your pants, trying to pull them down but grunting when he can't because his body is in the way.

He leans back, sinking back into the water and finally pulling your pants and underwear off, leaving you bare and exposed to him from waist down. You try to think of a reason as to why you seem so unbothered by his advances, it must be some kind of mermaid powers. The guy that took you on a date and asked to go to your home later? No. The guy you met online that asked to meet? iugh. But the merman on the tank that could ruin your career? Yeah, he's alright.

But mermaid powers or not, the way you feel his tongue lap at your soaked folds is very real and so is the whiny moan that falls from your lips. You feel him bury his face even deeper into your cunt, slurping the juices and moaning at the taste of them making you curl your toes. His hands move under your thighs, locking you in place so he can peacefully devour you.

Even though the man has no intentions of pulling back, you still grab the hair at the top of his head urging him closer which he happily complies making you moan softly. One of his hands moves closer to your cunt, dragging his claw over your skin making you shudder at the feeling.

You worry for a second that the merman will scratch you just like he did on your ankle, but instead he uses two fingers to spread your folds leaving you as exposed as he can before shoving his tongue into your entrance making you arch your back. The muscle dragging along the ribbed walls of your cunt, flooding his mouth with the taste of you.

A shameless whine escapes your lips when you feel him pull his face back, your grip on his head lacking all force. He coos at you, shushing your cries as he turns you on your stomach, keeping one of your knees bent as he slots himself behind you.

He props himself on an arm, keeping his chest flush against yours as his other arm hugs you pulling you impossibly closer to him as he rolls his hips to slide his already hardening dick between your folds, making you buck your hips to meet his movements. The heat of his wet body making you ache for more, to feel him closer, deeper.

You lower your hand, placing it between your legs and keeping his cock from moving forwards, making it sink into your welcoming walls. A harmony of moans filling the tank when he slowly sinks into you, the weight of his shaft inside of you feeling comforting in the cold of the tank.

The merman buries his face on the crook of your neck, biting softly your skin, just enough to feel you between his teeth as he moves his hips back, moaning at the feeling of your tight warm cunt sucking him back in.

He moans in tandem with you, a song of your voices accompanying the dance of your bodies. Everytime Johnny's hips move forwards, yours move back, the sound of skin slapping growing louder as his movements get faster.

Every snaps of his hips threaten to pull the air out of your lungs, leaving you unable to do anything else but moan at the feeling of his length hitting so deliciously deep while stretching your gummy walls to accommodate his girth.

“A'm gonnae tak' ye wi’ me once I'm out… would ye lik' that, bonnie lassie? Keep ye close, fucked ‘n’ dined, nae a single worry inside of that bonny head of yers but to take my big fucking cock as good as yer right now…” Every filthy word that leaves his lips, falling like melted honey into your ears making you clench around him, is accentuated with a snap of his hips making you bounce on his arms.

His arm that was hugging you moves lower, fingertips travelling down between your legs and rubbing tight circles over your clit making you whine as you close your eyes. You can hear his tail splash in the water with his movements, and you can tell when his thrust starts to become sloppier, almost losing the rhythm, but keeping it long enough for you to combust around his shaft.

He groans on your shoulder when your walls clench around his length like a vice, milking him for what he's worth, making hims moan against your skin as he keep moving his hips, slowly, letting the two of you ride out your orgasm as you try to get air back into your lungs.

Under the tank, on the underground level of the sanctuary and hidden in the shadows, three pairs of eyes see how Johnny kisses your shoulder softly.

“You know… I was feeling bad about dragging the poor girl into this mess, but… I don't think she minds it too much.” Gaz says, eyes glue to the two of you.

The thing is, that just like sailors knew that the earth was round long before anyone else; they also knew mermaids were real long before the rest of the world. But being able to communicate with one of the sea apex predators has its benefits, and negotiating with them usually translates to an improvement on the business.

And if the merman they accidentally run over with their boat says he wants a cute little partner to repopulate the north sea in exchange of pushing the fishes towards their fishing nets… they will get him a girlfriend to keep him happy.

After all, since humans always find a way to benefit from mermaids, it's only fair that mermaids benefit from humans too.

I hope you guys still wanted some mermaids, I don't know how it took me so long 🩷

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost

@multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles

@cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria

@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow

@loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger

@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust

@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune

@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo

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vroomvro0mferrari · 8 hours

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LN4 | Kiss and Make Up

Summary: You used to get along with your brother’s best friend, but at some point, it all changed. Lando’s rude comments frustrate you to no end, and your brother is fed up with your complaints. Max only sees one solution: you need to make up.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader (enemies to lovers)

WC: 5.0K

Warnings: cursing?

Masterlist

You heard the keys jiggle in the door, followed by the creaking sound of it opening, and your brother stomping through the hallway of your parental home. You finally have some time off from school after the insane amount of deadlines and exams that filled your last couple of weeks and decided to visit your family. You like studying and university, but it’s nice to come home and be taken care of instead of doing everything on your own. However, you’re still in charge of dinner tonight. You can never make it back home without being forced to make your famous lasagne at least once and tonight’s the night your family will be blessed with your famed, home-made dish.

Max smiled when he saw you standing in the kitchen, chopping up the veggies for tonight. Although he’d never tell you directly, he had missed you. Max still lived close to your parents whereas you had moved further away for school. It made it difficult to see each other regularly, especially since Max had started Quadrant with Lando and didn’t make the effort to visit you anymore. Seeing you in person had become a rare occurrence, something that would only happen in his parents’ house.

Max put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned forward to watch what you were doing. “Hey sis, are you making lasagne?” He said with a smile.

“Hello Y/N, I’ve missed you. How are you doing? – I’m doing well, Max. Thank you for asking.” You mumbled as you continued to cut vegetables for dinner.

You couldn’t see it with your back towards your brother, but he smiled at your antics. “Hello my dear sister, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I do wonder how you’re doing.”

You turned around and smiled when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s your own fault. You never come to visit me, but I’m doing well now that the exams are over,” you tell him with a chuckle.

Max decided to ignore your complaint, instead redirecting the conversation to what you were busying yourself with. “So, lasagne?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Max. I’m making lasagne for dinner.”

He silently cheered at your response. A cheeky smile made its way onto his face when he asked, “Is there enough for one more?”

“Depends… Who’s it for? P?” You said, looking back over your shoulder to meet his eyes as you cut up more veggies.

“Does it matter who I invited? You won’t let anyone else eat your lasagne?” He said with a laugh, but you knew the question was serious. He knew you didn’t particularly get along with some of his friends – actually, one of his friends, Lando. To say your relationship with Lando isn’t great would be an understatement. Max didn’t know why exactly you didn’t get along, you’ve never indulged him, but the dislike is clearly noticeable and has been going on for ages. Max had tried to improve the relationship in the past, but nothing had worked, only making it worse. He doesn’t understand why Lando, specifically; you don’t seem to have any issues with his other friends.

You looked at Max pointedly; he was asking for something he already knew. Of course, you’d let people other than P eat your lasagne. There’s only one person that you wouldn’t allow.

Max sighed at your seriousness, “Yes, I’ve invited P,” he told you.

You smiled triumphantly, “Good! I’ve missed her; more than you, actually,” you said with a snort.

Max rolled his eyes at your comment. “I should never have introduced you two. You’re suspiciously close,” he mumbled as he shook his head, leaving the kitchen.

You grinned at his comment and continued to prepare dinner. You carefully cut the veggies, made the sauce and built the lasagne before you covered it with cheese. After you finally put it in the oven, you went to your room to freshen up. Of course, you cannot cut tomatoes without getting juice on your shirt, so clean clothes are a necessity. You quickly changed your shirt, reapplied your deodorant, and fixed up your hair before you heard the door opening, footsteps and voices following soon after. You smiled as you walked down the stairs, excited to see Pietra after months. You walked into the room, ready to hug your brother’s girlfriend, only to see his boyfriend making himself comfortable on the couch.

Your smile dropped from your face in an instant, and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Lando,” you said in a low voice. What on earth was he doing here? Your brother told you he’d invited his girlfriend, your friend; was she not here yet? Lando must’ve come to pick something up, right? He wouldn’t visit around this time unless he came to pick something up… Or come for dinner… Judging by how comfortable he had made himself on the couch, you doubt it’s the former.

“Y/N! How are you?” Lando said, getting up from the couch to properly greet you. You scoffed and folded your arms as he moved closer.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too,” Lando said with a smirk.

“I hope you’re not here for dinner,” you continue.

“I am here for dinner, actually. Max invited me.”

You shifted your eyes over to Max in anger. He’d told you P would be coming over, not Lando. The little bitch.

“I take it P’s not coming, then?” It was evident in your voice that you were upset.

Max looked at you with apologetic eyes, like a child being scolded, as he avoided your gaze. At the lack of response, you turned your attention back to Lando.

“There isn’t enough food for all of us, and even if there was, it probably wouldn’t match your fancy diet anyway. Go buy a salad or something,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at your response. “Such hostility,” he said, his hand resting on his chest in fake hurt, and a teasing grin on his face that made you want to slap it off.

You gritted your teeth at the teasing – God, this man frustrated you to no end, and he was enjoying it, too.

“Fuck off, Lando. You’re not welcome here,” you said before walking away.

Lando was about to follow you into the dining room, unable to resist teasing you further, but Max stopped him. “Come on, man. Don’t provoke her. She’s already annoyed, especially because I lied to her.”

You paced the dining room in an attempt to calm yourself down while the lasagne cooked in the oven. You grabbed the plates from the cabinet and started setting the table. You'd cooled off until you realised you’d have to set a place for Lando. You frowned as you stared at the last plate. Why couldn’t Lando just leave you alone? He should know not to bother you, you’d shown him before how petty you could be when he frustrated you, so why did he have to try again and again? Should you act like the bigger person, get over yourself and set the table for Lando, or should you 'forget' about Lando and set only four places? Your parents would be upset for sure, but the urge to retaliate is so strong. You stood still for at least a minute as you weighed your options.

A smile crept its way on your face when you spotted the kids’ table in the corner of the dining room. Usually, it’s only used for big family events, when your much younger cousins come to visit. They don’t properly fit at the adult table and have their own tiny table in the corner of the room. A normal-sized human wouldn’t properly fit on one of the seats, but then again, Lando’s short, right? Besides, if he acts like a child, then he can sit at the children’s table. You grab the children’s cutlery and plate from the cabinet and set a special place for Lando. You can barely keep your laughter back at the thought of Lando sitting at the small table in a chair that’s way too tiny for him.

When you heard the timer beep, you tried to neutralise your expression. You placed the lasagne on the kitchen table before calling your family (and Lando) for dinner. Your parents were, unsurprisingly, the first to join you at the table. The boys, naturally, were still finishing up the game they started before dinner was finished. Your parents were already seated and provided with drinks before the boys came walking in. Although your parents hadn’t noticed the table in the corner or the missing chair, your brother noticed straight away.

He looked at you disappointedly as he said, “Y/N, did you seriously not set a place for Lando?”

“No, I did. It’s right over there,” you said, pointing to the kids’ table.

The boys looked in the direction you were pointing, and Max started laughing immediately. Meanwhile, Lando was shocked at how blunt you were being. So far, every retaliation you’d ever taken wasn’t that obvious. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and disappointment as he stared at the table – did you really dislike him that much?

“Where’s the other chair?” Max asked, still chuckling as he stood at the empty spot by the table.

You didn’t look up when you responded, “I don’t know,” shrugging your shoulders as you casually continued to divide the lasagne.

Lando sighed as he tried the chair, his knees pointing out above the table. Max only laughed louder at the image, and your dad couldn’t resist chuckling either while Lando pouted.

“I can’t eat like this.”

“Then don’t. I told you you’re not welcome.”

“Y/N!” Your mum scolded you before turning to Lando. “You’re always welcome here, darling. Ignore her,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

You rolled your eyes.

“Where did you put the chair?” She questioned you.

You sighed, “They’re just in the pantry,” you admitted.

Your mum stood up and grabbed the chair for Lando who was still sitting in the tiny seat, while Max took pictures to post on his story, laughing. Lando smiled thankfully when she came back with the chair and grabbed a normal plate to serve him a generous portion of your homemade lasagne.

You couldn’t help but glare at Lando when he took his first bite. He was undeserving of the food into which you had put so much effort and love. You couldn’t even enjoy your own portion with the boy sitting across from you, although it tasted great. But Lando couldn't enjoy it either with the glares you kept sending him. Your resentment made him uncomfortable, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d be afraid that you’d poisoned his dinner. That was not your style though; he knew exactly how you liked to take your revenge. After all, he had experienced your wrath many times, and he had to admit you were very creative in creating your retaliations. He could never be entirely sure, or proof that you were the cause, but everything about the weird situations he’d been in the past years screamed your name.

There was one time that he’d gotten tens of phone calls every day for a week about a missing key. Even now, he gets occasionally gets calls about a key that was found. It seems quite innocent, but Lando’s phone was blowing up the entire week at the most inconvenient times: while he was in important meetings, when he was spending time with friends, even when he was streaming. Another time, Lando’s Netflix was completely messed up. All the recommendations on his home screen were for kids’ TV and romcoms. This, too, seems innocent enough, but after he had watched Netflix together with Daniel Ricciardo, and his homepage was filled with Cocomelon, The Kissing Booth, Riverdale and other films and series of the same genre, he had to hear about it for years to come. Some other time, Lando’s clothes mysteriously fell apart after only a few hours of wearing them after he’d stayed the night at Max's place at the same time as you. He didn't know how, but he was sure you had something to do with that too.

Although your reactions were very petty and often childish, Lando did admire your perseverance, resourcefulness and creativity. If he wasn’t always the victim of your crimes, he would have loved them, and perhaps even encouraged them, because, let’s be honest, it’s impressive if you can make someone’s clothes fall apart when you’re not even near them.

Lando didn’t really understand why he was always your victim, though. When you were younger, you’d gotten along fine, but as you’d gotten older you’d become meaner to him. He didn't know where things went wrong, and whether it was his fault or you just decided you were done with him. You used to tease each other, yes, but that was always mutual and lighthearted. Neither of you minded the comments that were made because you both knew it was all in good fun. At some point, you just started doing things like these, and Lando still doesn't know what initiated it.

You know exactly when it started, though. Everything was fine until Max and Lando hit puberty. Suddenly, they were ‘too cool’ to hang out with you, and you were excluded from all of their activities. The teasing didn’t really feel like teasing anymore, but rather mean comments that hurt you. Lando never caught onto your change in perception; he thought you still saw it as teasing. But the comments became more rude over time, and it felt like the boys who were your friends once, were now making fun of you.

Like when you were invited to apply for Honours College at your university. You were extremely proud that your grades in your regular courses were good enough to be admitted, and that you’d been invited to apply. But Lando just called you a nerd and laughed before continuing to talk about his own achievements, as if what you’d done was nothing important or impressive.

It wouldn’t have mattered much if it were any other friend of your brother, but Lando was important. You’d known him for about ten years, and he was basically a part of your family. What didn’t help either was that you had developed a small crush on him over the years. By the time he turned twenty, he’d gone through a glow-up. He finally learned how to deal with his curly hair and his face had matured to that of a handsome man. You were attracted to him, but his ugly personality distracted from his looks – most of the time.

Nevertheless, you wanted to impress Lando; to make him like you so he would stop with the off-handed comments. Though you weren’t necessarily good at sports or karting like he was, you excelled academically. You thought by showing your intelligence, you could gain his respect. Unknowingly, it made Lando feel dumb. He’d never even finished secondary school, and you were taking on extra classes in university without any troubles. He reacted differently than he would have liked to, but he thought you’d understand it was a joke.

Another time, you organised a last-minute surprise party for your brother. You had made sure there were decorations, music, food, and most importantly, drinks. You were happy with what you had managed to do in the time available, but your mood significantly worsened when Lando jokingly said you could have put in a little more effort. He was smiling when he said it, but it felt like he was making fun of you; of the amount of effort you had put in to make sure everything was organized as perfectly as possible. Despite his intention to tease, it didn't feel that way to you.

The comment that you believe triggered your best revenge was on Pietra’s birthday. She celebrated her birthday at Max’s apartment, and of course, you’d come to visit and celebrate with her. A few months before her birthday she’d shown you a top she really liked when she was online shopping, but the colour wasn’t right. So, for her birthday, you decided to crochet the top in her favourite colour. It was a bold choice because you didn’t have much experience crocheting, nevertheless, you tried. If she didn’t like it, you would just buy it from the store after all, or get her something else. You thought it looked pretty good, especially for your first try. Regardless, there were some mistakes and uneven shapes.

Pietra was completely surprised and elated with the present, especially when you told her you made it yourself. She knew how much time and effort it probably cost you to make it, but Lando didn't consider that when he commented on the piece.

“You made it yourself? Maybe you should practice a little more, huh?” He said, laughing, before handing it back to P.

You felt the smile drop from your face at the hurtful remark, but Lando was oblivious to the fact he hurt your feelings. Max turned to Lando in shock, while Pietra assured you that she loved the top, and couldn’t wait to wear it. You plastered a smile on your face, but it was obvious (to anyone but Lando) that it was fake. That night, after drinking your feelings away, you tore the seams in Lando’s clothes. Not every single one, but enough so it would fall apart after too much exertion; the punishment should fit the crime.

The anticipatory pleasure at the thought of Lando’s clothes tearing at an inconvenient moment was enough to satisfy you. When you heard about what happened a few days later from Max, you could barely keep your laugh back.

More recently, you had gone clubbing with your brother and his friends. It was an unusual event because your brother didn’t want to see you flirting or dancing with random boys in the club, but this time it was different. He knew you’d been stressed from school, and he’d rather you let loose when he’s there than when he’s not there to keep an eye on you.

You were dancing with your brother and his friends when a cute boy came up to you, asking if he could buy you a drink. You said yes, of course. You would never refuse a free drink, especially in good, handsome, company, and you wanted to get over your small crush on Lando. You don’t know why or how, but he always seemed ten times hotter at the club, and you needed to get away from him. The longer you stayed near him, the more his pretty face and well-dressed body seemed to distract you from his unattractive personality, and that couldn’t happen.

You followed the man to the bar and ordered a drink as he flirted with you. His attention was completely focused on you, but you kept getting distracted by the feeling of eyes on your back. It wasn’t until you were dancing in the middle of the large crowd that the feeling faded. You felt free without the supervision of your brother, and without Lando to distract you.

The man pulled your back closer to him, and you let him. You swayed from side to side with your arms in the air while he kissed his way down your neck. It didn’t feel right, but that didn’t matter; it was good enough. You liked the feeling of his lips on your neck and felt yourself get lost in the moment until suddenly there was a tug on your arm.

Your eyes opened in shock as you felt yourself get pulled away. The man you were dancing with didn’t seem to mind much and moved on with another girl standing nearby as you stared at Lando confused and disoriented.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him as you struggled to pull your arm from his firm grip.

“I’m taking you back to the group, you need to be more careful,” he explained.

You scoffed, “What? I was perfectly safe! Let me go!”

“Were you? He seemed untrustworthy,” Lando continued as he pulled you through the club.

“I was just having fun! God, you’re so annoying!” You say with a huff before walking back to your brother.

Lando watched you as you walked away. He didn't want you to dance with that man, or any man for that matter, even though he would never admit it. However, you had misunderstood his intentions. To you it seemed like he was interrupting your fun, cockblocking if you will, and it frustrated you to no end.

For days to come, you complained to your brother about what happened, insisting that it was none of Lando’s business and he should’ve left you alone. However, your brother grew tired of your complaints really quickly and couldn’t deal with your issues anymore. You’re ongoing dispute with Lando had dragged on for too long and it needed to be resolved, soon, before he went insane. During your next fight, Max would force the two of you to repair your relationship, whether you wanted to or not, because he simply couldn’t take it any longer.

It didn’t take long until your next fight. You were looking at pictures of Lando and Max on Instagram from when they went golfing a few days back when you spotted something. In one of the pictures, Lando was taking a photo with a camera, a camera which he had seemingly ‘borrowed’ from you without your knowledge.

The second you saw him enter your parents’ house, you targeted him.

“You stole my camera?”

“Hello to you, too, Y/N,” he responded with a grin.

You rolled your eyes.

“Where is it, Lando,” you continued, stepping closer to him.

“I gave it to Max. He was supposed to give it back. He hasn’t yet?”

“No, he hasn’t. And you shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”

Your gaze shifted to Max, who walked in behind Lando.

“Where is it, Max?”

“In my room somewhere, I think.”

“Can you go grab it? Please?”

The words you said were much kinder than the way you said them. Max sighed before walking up the stairs to his room, you and Lando in tow. He looked around the room, getting on his knees to look under the bed.

“You put my camera under your bed?” You asked angrily.

“I’m not sure if I did, that’s why I’m looking, Y/N.”

Max thought this was the absolute worst. He had gotten himself pulled into one of your arguments again, and now he was being yelled at by you when it wasn’t his fault to begin with. He sighed before getting up.

“I’ll just go grab my phone for the flashlight,” he said before leaving the room.

You merely nodded in response as you continued to look around the room in search of your camera when you heard the door close, the lock falling in place.

“Max? Did you just lock the door?”

Lando lifted his head from his place on the floor, where he was looking under the dresser, at your insinuation. He quickly changed his position to sit up, staring at the door with you.

“Yes, I have. The two of you need to make up. I won’t let you out until you get along. I can’t handle the two of you fighting anymore. It’s really fucking annoying,” he said through the door.

You looked at Lando in shock, to find him already staring back at you.

“Max, you can’t do this! What the fuck is wrong with you! Let us out!” You yelled as you knocked on the door.

When he didn’t react, you hit the door again, “Max!”

You looked at Lando at the lack of response, “Do something!” You said, but he merely looked at you.

“What am I supposed to do? Knocking the door won’t help. I actually think it might be a good idea for us to talk everything out.”

You looked at Lando in shock. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged while he stared at you, and you shook your head in response.

“I’m not doing this,” you said, pacing around the room while Lando followed you with his eyes as he sat on your brother’s bed, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m leaving,” you said, opening the window.

“What are you doing?” Lando asks, quickly getting up from the bed.

“I’m leaving,” you repeated, sitting on the window sill, throwing one leg outside.

“What have I done to you to make you this angry? I can’t believe you’d rather fall out of a window than talk to me,” Lando frowned.

You let out a choked laugh, mouth open in shock. “Are you serious? You don’t know what you’ve done?” You said as you sat on the window sill, one leg outside the window, the other still on the floor.

“Yes. Please tell me, because I’ve obviously missed a lot if you’re willing to climb out of a window. By the way, stop climbing out of the window!” Lando said, all but running to prevent you from dangling your other leg out of the window too. It was already halfway there, leaving you in a very uncomfortable position when Lando grabbed your leg.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, Y/N!”

“No, I’m not,” you grunted out as you tried to kick him away. You leaned away from him, losing your grip on the windowsill at the exertion. Lando could barely catch you before you fell out of the window.

“Fuck, Y/N! I told you to get away from the window!” He yelled as he pulled you away from it and back into the room before quickly closing the window. He stood in front of it as if he was trying to block your way from the window, trying to block your escape.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t be such a baby, I’m fine.”

“Only because I was holding your leg.”

“If you weren’t holding my leg I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.” You stepped closer to him, huffing in defiance.

Lando sighed, but he didn’t respond. He kept silent while he stared at you, challenging you as you crept closer without breaking eye contact. The tension in the room was palpable, and it only increased the longer you stared at each other. Your breath was shallow from the adrenaline of your near-fall, and your glare was met with a look of annoyance. Lando’s hands hung limply by his sides, the complete opposite of a mere moment ago when he grabbed you with such urgency.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Lando's voice was low, strained with frustration.

"Me?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You're the one who's always so demeaning, so... so infuriating!"

"Infuriating?" Lando repeated, scoffing. "Coming from the girl who sabotages my Netflix and sets up kiddie tables for me?"

"You deserved it," you retorted, folding your arms and looking down. "You always mock me and belittle everything I do, every achievement, every effort… Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Lando’s confidence faltered at your confession. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, stroking your arm softly. "I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. I thought... I thought we were just joking around, teasing. I didn't realise-"

"Didn't realise what?" you interrupted, eyes brimming with tears. "That your words actually affect me? That I care what you think?"

Lando's hand reached out, tentatively brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost adoring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know."

You closed your eyes, breathing out through your nose as you let the apology sink in. When you opened them again, the regret you saw in his eyes made you believe him. But it was the love and adoration in his gaze that convinced you.

"Lando..." you began, but your voice caught in your throat.

Before you could finish, Lando closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was longing. Slowly, almost apprehensively, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in an uncertain kiss.

Your initial surprise was quickly replaced by the warmth spreading through your body. Almost automatically, your hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. The kiss deepened, filled with your pent-up frustration and unspoken feelings. Your hands slid up Lando's neck and you ran your hands through his hair, pulling on it softly. The sensation of Lando's hands on your body, and his lips against yours felt right, making everything else fade away.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Lando’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and you were certain your eyes showed the same.

“What… what just happened?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was now slightly tousled from your fingers. “I don’t know. But it felt… right.”

You swallowed, trying to make sense of all of the emotions running wild inside you. “We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen, Lando.”

“I don’t want to,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours.

You laughed softly at the situation, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder. Lando wrapped his arms around you straight away.

“This is not what I expected to happen,” you whispered.

Lando chuckled softly. “Me neither, but it’s not so bad, is it?”

You snuggled into his neck, sighing contently once you were comfortable. No, it wasn't bad at all.

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 2 days

Text

Harry wants it known that he’s at the ministry’s Yule gala under duress. It was all he could do to force himself into his dress robes and make himself presentable; he can’t fathom where he’ll find the energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

People he barely knows keep coming up to him – as they always do – to shake his hand, chat with him about this and that, thank him for his role in defeating the dark lord. (Still. He really wishes they’d stop doing that. It’s been more than six years now.)

And then there are pockets of people, staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Another constant in his public appearances, though he imagines the content of their conversations is at least a little different from usual, if not the tone.

He’s just escaped another fan and is looking to make a beeline for the bar when it happens. Harry sees his doom approaching from several metres away but, since they saw him first and he (stupidly) refuses to run away, he stands there like an idiot, wishing he were anywhere else.

“Hi Harry,” Ginny says. It looks like she wants to hug him or get close, and his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. Thankfully, she stays where she is.

“Hullo Ginny,” he replies and, without looking at the man, utters a terse, “Malfoy.”

The smug arse smirks at him. “Potter.”

“How’ve you been?” Ginny asks, which. Rude. If she actually cared about that, she wouldn’t have cheated on him with the git on her arm, but whatever.

“Oh, fine. Y’know, keeping busy.” God, he hates small talk.

Before he can respond with the requisite, ‘And you?’, Malfoy jumps in. “Yes, I suppose you have been, from what I’ve heard.”

Ugh. Fucking Malfoy. Harry wishes he had a drink or seven. He can’t believe he’d rather be caught in another conversation with that weirdo from earlier about his wand-care habits, of all things.

Ginny gently elbows Malfoy in the side with a chiding, “Draco.”

He’s considering the merits of letting himself be ripped apart by the anti-apparition wards to get away from this conversation – splinching himself can’t be much more painful than this – when a hand bearing a very welcome drink appears in front of him. That’ll do for now, though splinching is still on the table. Especially when he follows the hand to the arm up to the face and of course it’s Ri– Tom.

Harry gives him the side-eye, but accepts the drink. “Thanks.”

Tom leans in slightly, just enough so the two in front of them can’t read his lips. “You looked like you might be in need of a rescue.”

And as he pulls back out of Harry’s personal space, he rests a hand low on Harry’s back. Harry tenses for a moment before just accepting that tonight is all about him being as uncomfortable as possible. He takes a gulp of his drink – something dark and spicy. It burns pleasantly.

When he starts paying attention again, he finds Ginny looking at Tom with surprise; Malfoy is looking at the other man with – is that a hint of fear? And Tom is staring them both down, but somehow managing to do it with a veneer of politeness.

“Good evening, Draco,” he says pleasantly. “Ginevra.”

“Riddle.” Malfoy’s greeting is stiff, as is the awkward, aborted bow he gives. Hmm.

“And Harry,” Tom says, turning to look at him fondly. “So good to see you again.”

Hoo boy.

“You,” Harry murmurs from behind the rim of his drink. “Are not subtle.”

Tom takes the opportunity to slide his hand further around Harry’s back, lightly gripping his hip and pulling him closer up against Tom’s side. He returns Harry’s withering look with an undaunted smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“When did you two get so cosy?” Ginny cuts in. Her tone is playful, but there’s more than offhand curiosity lurking beneath.

“Uh.” Shite, he doesn’t ever want Ginny to find out how this started, but especially not in public. Who knows who’s listening in or watching. “We ran into each other by chance a month and a half ago” –actually, he’s how I found out you were fucking Malfoy behind my back– “and we’ve met up a few times since then. It’s nice to have someone… uninvolved to talk to.”

Tom looks amused at that. He’s definitely involved in the demise of Harry’s relationship, and if there’s one thing they haven’t been doing (but probably should), it’s talking.

“I’ve been helping him expand his horizons,” Tom says without apparent innuendo, yet somehow the layered meaning is still obvious. Prat. “Getting him to try new things, keeping him busy.”

“You and half the town,” Malfoy mutters under his breath.

“I see…” Ginny says over him. “Funny how that escaped the rumour mill.”

Harry laughs awkwardly, wishing for a stray lightning bolt to strike and put him out of his misery. “Must not’ve been exciting enough.”

The conversation dies for long enough to become uncomfortable - well, even more so. Malfoy touches Ginny’s elbow and leans down to speak into her ear. Harry seizes their distraction to turn on Tom.

“Are you sure you don’t want to piss on me to mark your territory while you’re at it?” he asks dryly.

Tom wrinkles his nose delicately in disgust. “No need to be crude. Though…” He gives Harry a considering once-over. “I’m not at all opposed to the idea of you carrying my mark. How do you feel about tattoos?”

Harry snorts. “Not a chance.”

The other man tucks his face in close to Harry’s, breath hot against the skin beneath his ear. “What about bruises?”

As though he doesn’t regularly leave an abundance of those on Harry anyway, what with his penchant for treating Harry like a chew toy. Harry shivers all the same, just a little bit. He can feel the barest brush of Tom’s grin against his neck.

Ginny clears her throat pointedly.

“Good to know,” Tom breathes as he pulls back.

Ginny continues trying to talk to him while Malfoy makes the odd snide comment, Tom attempts to meld into Harry’s side while replying for him and being subtly insulting, and Harry tries to become one with the floor. He realises he’s missed a question when he breaks out of his daze to find both Tom and Ginny are watching him expectantly.

“Huh?”

Ginny starts to say something when Tom cuts her off. "Care to dance?"

If looks could kill, Tom would be in a bad way with how Ginny’s glaring at him. "Harry doesn't dance," she says tetchily. Tom doesn't bother with her, waiting for Harry's wary nod.

He looks back at Ginny smugly. "Perhaps yet another new thing to which I can introduce him.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Harry says, grabbing Tom’s wrist and dragging him towards the dance floor. Best to get this over with, and all the better if it means he doesn’t have to speak with anyone else in the meantime.

"She's not wrong," he mutters once they don't have to fear being overheard. "I don't dance.”

"Just follow my lead," Tom replies easily. “Would it be correct to say you don’t particularly care about stepping on my toes?”

Harry stares at him blankly for a moment before he feels a reluctant smile appear on his face. “It might be the one redeeming part of this.”

“The only one?” Tom says archly, pulling him into the correct hold. And, without giving Harry a chance to breathe or think, they’re off in what Harry thinks might be a waltz.

"That was quite the risk you took," Harry says, trying not to stare at his feet and hoping for the best as Tom spins him around the room. He is, oddly enough, a much better dancer when he’s not constantly concerned about crushing someone's foot.

"Was it?"

"Yes. What made you think I wouldn't refuse and let you look foolish?"

He catches sight of a pleased grin on Tom's face from the corner of his eye. "The same thing that made me ask you to dance when I've seen your previous forays. You rise to the occasion when I push you.” He looks at Harry, for a moment, proudly. “I also knew you’d be more than amenable to anything that got you away from those two.”

Harry can’t deny that.

“Now look sharp, and do try to keep up,” Tom says, the hand at Harry’s lower back gripping him a little tighter.

“Wha–?”

And it’s all he can do not to trip over his feet and take them both down in a painful sprawl, but the rush, the heady triumph of making it through the successive, intricate turns, goes straight to his head. Before he can stop himself, Harry lets out a loud peal of laughter, further disrupting the couples around them and drawing sneers and disapproving glances. And he just doesn’t care. Not that he thinks he normally would’ve, but it feels like it’s been ages since he’s felt so light and happy. So, he doesn’t think about the people around him. He doesn’t think about how it’s Tom who’s making him feel this way. He just basks in the sun-warm feeling of contentment – of being okay for the first time in a while.

(One night)

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #fic snippet #the fic itself contains smut #and infidelity #(not between hjp and tmr)#but tom is objectionable in other ways #harry deserves better than these numpties

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lieslab · 10 hours

Text

Daddy issues

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: A simple phone call from your father and Chan's added anger makes you mentally crumble.

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7.3K

Trigger warning: Parental issues, (specifically daddy issues) emotional abuse and neglect, physical abuse, a bit of an unhealthy romantic relationship, anger, self-hatred, blood, self-harm, mentions and attempt of suicide via razor blade, and a panic attack.

A/N: Even without the request, I feel like this has been a long time coming. Please heed the trigger warnings. Please. Shout out to all the baddies out there with parental issues. Shout out to all the Chan stans with daddy issues. You're so strong, keep going, I believe in all of you <3

Requestee, I hope this leaves you satisfied. I don't think you ever said you were struggling, but just by this, it seems you are. I hope this helps you cope with whatever struggles you either have had or currently are facing in life.

I did change a few things around to fit the story more, but most of it's the same. I think I got everything you wanted in there, besides those few minor changes. I also experimented with time jumps which is new, but I think they were needed for this one. This is a long one, so buckle up and please enjoy!! <3

_ _ _

The words are thrown around without much thought. Daddy issues this and mommy issues that. People wear them like a badge of honor. Always seeking out other people that can fill the gaps that their parents left behind. Searching for temporary band-aids to cover wounds that need stitches to heal.

Everyone wants to be perfect. Nobody wants to admit that the people who were supposed to love them the most fucked them up the worst. Nobody ever wants to admit that their nurture was ripped away before they ever got it. Cruelty swaddled them instead of sweetness. Neglect and despair instead of encouragement and understanding. Some people were doomed from the start.

At twenty-two years old, you understood that your daddy issues were a noose around your neck, they were always there. A poking twine that pressed against your windpipe and jugular. All it took was a few words and the noose tightened. It was suffocating, it was restricting, and it was paralyzing.

There was a devil and an angel on each shoulder. One was angry and smoldering. Smoke bellowed out of its ears and it was always ready to snap. The other was an angel, sweet and soft-spoken, constantly reassuring you that you had it better than most. Of course you did because, at least, you had a dad, right?

Any dysfunctional relationship could cause a rocky conscience. You swore you were doomed from the start. You’d never fall in love. Nobody would be able to care about you in the way you wanted them to. At least, it was like that until Bang Chan.

When Chan came into your life, you fell hard. You didn’t get a chance to stand before your knees were jerked out beneath you. He was strong, he was charming, he was dominating, and he was everything you wanted him to be.

Being older meant he had more wisdom and more life experience. He was soaked with the knowledge that you craved. He understood you, he got you, and heading towards his later twenties, he was hesitant when you showed up. While you turned twenty-five, he’d be thirty.

You didn’t let that stop you from wowing him. From caring about him with every fiber of your being, you would have given up everything to appease him and more. Hell, if he experienced organ failure, you’d cut yourself open without a second thought and rip it from your insides with a smile on your face. You were down bad, but your issues were still there.

You were aware of them when you seeked out his validation. When you kept asking if he was sure he still loved you. You couldn’t shake everything that your father had ingrained in you, but you were still so desperate to fill that void.

Some would say it’s weird, but you would say that you needed him to survive. You needed him. He was the air in your lungs and the familiar thump of your heart. You needed him as much as plants needed the sun. Like the Earth needed the moon and like bees needed pollen. You called it destiny whereas a few of your family members called it desperation, but they didn’t understand it. They just…didn’t get it. They had no idea what you had been through. They didn’t understand the gaping wounds that had yet to be stapled, but Chan got it instantly.

He realized it after you swayed the conversation in another direction at the mention of your family. He knew it when fathers were brought up and the hurt flashed across your eyes. He knew it when you clung to him like a koala with fear and asked for clarification on his thoughts about you.

You were damaged and he knew that. He didn’t mind because everyone had their issues and besides, at the end of the day, he still loved you as you were. He was thrilled to wrap his arms around you when you curled around him and point out everything he loves about you.

From the squish of your soft cheeks, the curve of your nose, the shade of your eyes, and the way you dress, he loved it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly, he gave the relationship his all; you both did. No matter how much the guys joked that he was a silver fox, he always rolled his eyes and shook off their comments. They were just joking and he knew that deep down, the guys cared about you too.

He knew a lot about you, but he didn’t realize just how much these issues bothered you. He didn’t realize that you were nearly suffocating yourself. Out of all the things he knew, he had no idea how much you silently suffered until you snapped.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The day started a lot like any other day. You went to work and by the time you finished, you found a text message from Chan announcing that he’d be at the studio later tonight. It was one of those days where the creative juices were overflowing and he wanted to get everything worked out before he forgot.

You didn’t mind it and started to head home, but then you thought about the dimpled smile and sparkly eyes of Chan. God, you were utterly smitten. With a quick change of direction, you found yourself heading towards the JYP studio instead of your apartment.

Give or take twenty minutes and you were walking into your second home. The JYP building truly has become your home away from home. You came here a lot to support Chan and the guys. It was strange having an extra person along, but eventually, they grew used to your antics.

The guys accepted you with open arms and when you came around, they got excited. Sometimes you brought presents, like cookies. Other times, just your brief distraction sidetracked them from their ongoing issues. That temporary change of direction helped them sort out their issues quicker.

You checked in at the front desk and pulled on your guest badge. It was a new system that the company had been doing after a sasaeng had managed to gain access to the building. If you were found roaming the halls without a pass or a security badge, you were instantly booted unless you could properly explain yourself.

You tugged the lanyard over your head and practically skipped to the studio room. Upon knocking, the door opened to reveal Changbin. A grin pressed his cheeks up into points. “Hi!”

“Hey,” you returned the smile, “is Ch-”

He jerked the door open wider to reveal Chan in the background. Chan was directing whoever was in the booth. You picked up Felix’s deep voice in the background. Chan was sitting in a hoodie and a pair of navy blue basketball shorts. He bobbed his head along to the voice.

“You can come in, just try to keep it down because we’re rec-”

“You’ve got it.”

He opened the wooden door wider and you stepped inside. In the booth, headphones were over Felix’s ears. His messy blonde hair had been pushed around by the band connecting the ear covers.

His eyes focused on the lyrics as he sang. You slung your bag to the side and smiled as you saw Jeongin sitting on the opposite side of the couch. The two of you exchanged a wave and you quietly came to sit beside him on the opposite side.

Changbin snuck back into the chair beside Chan and Felix continued to sing. After a few more seconds, Felix’s voice cracked and he stopped singing. “Fuck!” He cried out.

“I don’t ever recall that being part of the song,” Jeongin mumbled.

“Yeah, what Innie said,” Changbin agreed.

Chan stopped the recording with a sigh. He pressed a button, so Felix could hear him in the booth. “Felix, is something wrong today? This is the fourth time your voice has cracked. Do you need us to change the lyrics or-”

“No! No! No! Of course, I don’t need you to change the lyrics! It’s just the pitch of the song. It’s so high and I’m really trying my best here, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get it or not and oh-” His eyes brightened when he saw you. “When did you get here?”

Chan shifted in his seat and blinked when he saw you behind him. You smiled softly at him. “Hi, baby.”

“What are you doing here? I told you that I’d be home late.”

“I know, but I just wanted to see you.”

“I’m busy.”

“I’m fully aware. I have no intention of stopping you from working. I’ll sit here silently without a peep. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Yeah, right,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

Felix and Changbin both shot him a glare. Changbin’s fingers jabbed into Chan’s side. Chan was worked up and stressed because Felix wasn’t getting this part of the song. It wasn’t just Felix that had struggled, everyone was struggling.

Chan had created the instrumentals of this song and thought it’d be a home run, but he hadn’t considered how much the pitch would be a struggle for some of the guys. He was frustrated because if they couldn’t reach the right note, the song would have to be scrapped and he was distracted by other songs he wanted to work on.

Seungmin’s silky and strong vocals weren’t the same as Felix’s deeper tone. Han’s wide range of vocals wasn’t the exact same as what Minho was comfortable with. Songs could be challenging and this seemed to be the biggest challenge yet.

Luckily for you, you hadn’t heard Chan’s mumble because your phone vibrated in your hands. You swiped the screen before thinking and held the phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

When Chan rolled his eyes, Changbin slapped him in the back of the head. “What is your issue today?” He whispered. “Knock it off and stop being an asshole.”

“We’re busy and-”

“So tell them to leave and don’t be an asshole about it.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have a significant other always up your ass.”

“You're the world’s biggest asshole right now and unless you want to lose them, I’d drop the attitude. Just because you’re frustrated, it doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk. Use your words, you’re supposed to be the oldest in the room, so act like it.”

“Oh, so you’re finally picking up the phone this time?”

Your father’s voice in your ear caused your heart to sink to your stomach. The blood in your veins turned to ice. You shut your eyes before responding. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy recently and I-”

“Busy my ass. You can text your mother, but not me? I was the one who created you and you still can’t be grateful for that. Without me, you’d be nothing.”

“I’ve been texting the family group chat and I-”

“You know damn well that I don’t give a shit about no family group chat!”

You winced and pushed yourself up. Jeongin stared at you with a raised eyebrow. When you noticed, you flashed him a smile and held up a finger to let him know that you’d only be a minute. Before anyone could say anything, you disappeared outside the room and into the empty hallway.

“What do you want?”

“Is it a crime to want to know how my child is doing?”

Your stomach twisted into thoughts as your father scoffed. A frown appeared on your face and, even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, but it’s difficult to find time to talk when we’re on different time zones and-”

“Bullshit! You’re an ungrateful piece of shit! I gave you this goddamn life and you can’t even come visit! I have to find out from Google that you’re dating an idol! What have you told him? Why won’t he come visit?”

“Nothing!” Your voice squeaked in shock. “I haven’t told him anything, he’s just so busy. He’s in a band and we-”

“Then bring him down here, so your mother and I can meet him! What happened to respecting your parents? I didn’t even give you permission to date him!”

As his voice raised louder, you tugged the phone away from your ear. A lump began to form in your throat as curse words were thrown your way. You shut your eyes and waited for him to calm down. Your hands were shaking as you mumbled into the phone.

“I think I’m losing reception, I’ll call you back in a while.”

“Don’t you fucking hang up on m-”

The click ended his words before he got out the sentence. All at once, the weight of everything fell on top of you. Insult after insult wormed deeper and deeper into your brain. You wanted, you needed, to speak to Chan. You weren’t strong enough to deal with this on your own yet.

You shoved your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and pushed the door open. Felix was singing again and your fingers curled into your palms. “Chan?” Your voice came out hoarse. “Can we talk for a moment?”

The sound of your voice caused Jeongin to look up with a face full of worry. Even Changbin glanced behind his shoulder to check on you. When Felix caught Changbin’s head turning, he looked up to find you rapidly blinking back tears. His singing stopped and Chan’s fist flew into the desk.

The rattling of the desk shook your soul. It started everyone, but you the most. Suddenly, you were five years old again in the back of your father’s van. You were weak and vulnerable. Defenseless, there was nothing you could do as your father’s wrath expanded along the four locked doors.

You sucked it in and you couldn’t breathe. Your heart hammered in your chest, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do. You were five and yet the anger of a thousand angry men was cast at you.

It vibrated the marrow in your bones. The strands of your heart strings curled inward. Your childlike curiosity shattered in the backseat. Stay quiet, don’t utter a word, just take the yelling. Like a deer in headlights, you were trapped.

It funneled down your throat and created a lump. Crocodile tears appeared in your eyes. You sniffled and your bottom lip shook, you were alone once more. Alone in the thunder and anguish; the swirl of one man’s anger.

A flower in the middle of a tornado. Thrown, chucked, depetaled. Ripped from the stem and crushed between the winds. At the end, you were ripped to shreds and utterly defeated. Not even the thorns of your own stem could save you.

“Goddammit! Why can’t you just go home? I’m trying to work here and you’re ruining it! I don’t have time for you right now! Go home and I’ll deal with your bullshit later. This is my career we’re talking about!”

The song’s soft instrumentals faded in the background as the song ended. You couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down your cheeks. It stung more than you ever would have imagined. The words were a sharp sting to your cheek. The noose of daddy issues choked you again and you couldn’t breathe.

“See you later,” you mumbled as you tipped your head down and rushed towards the door. You pawed at your tears and rushed into the hall and down the corridor to head home.

“What the fuck was that for?” Changbin snapped.

“We’re working!”

“And they were crying! If you would have taken five seconds to look behind you, you would have-”

“Don’t try to guilt trip me! It’s bullshit! I probably hurt their feelings. Whatever. We have work to do. I’ll apologize later.”

While the two bickered, Jeongin stepped up and disappeared out the door to try and find you. Whatever you were struggling with, it hadn’t been good. Chan’s outburst had only made it worse and he knew that. He saw the terror in your eyes when the other person responded on the opposite end of the phone.

Felix looked from Chan’s angry face to Changbin’s scowl. When he caught Jeongin rushing out the door after you, his confusion only grew. “What’s happening?” He asked into the microphone.

Chan slammed his hand down on the button, so Felix could hear him. “Don’t worry about it. Get out of the booth, we’re going to take five.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As you walked home in the whipping wind, your hair tangled around your head. It blocked your vision and the gray skies added to your warped reality. It felt like everyone and everything was against you.

That was the one fatal flaw with humans. When we enter a dark mindset, it’s the only thing we think about. The only thing we feel is the harsh and back-breaking weight of the world on our shoulders. The clouds close in and all feels lost as the rain pours down.

You walked quickly with your head down. Keeping to the sidewalks, you were nearly running. You were moving so fast that by the time Jeongin made his way outside the studio, you were already halfway down the road. He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to frighten you. He kept his pace brisk, but he didn’t run.

He loved Chan for a wide variety of reasons, but he couldn’t believe he had just snapped at you like that. Of course, Chan was angry when he was mad, but this wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.

You sniffled and kept rushing as the wind cupped your ears. You were hollow on the inside. That faint flicker of light inside you had been kept going by Chan. It wasn’t the best idea to depend on one person to make you happy, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Your biggest fear has finally come true, everyone hates you. Maybe not to your face, but you can feel it. The bitter hatred that’s so vitriol, it’s rancid. A hatred that’s thicker than oil and stickier than jam.

You were looking at assumptions, not facts, but your brain was set in stone. No one would be able to save you now. You had fallen far from grace. Your issues had poisoned you from the start. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t meant for any of this life.

Perhaps, you would take a chance and try again in the next.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Jeongin knocked, you didn’t respond. He shoved the hair out of his face and tried again. When you didn’t respond to the softer knocks, he knocked harder. When you didn’t respond to that, he held his breath and turned the knob to your apartment.

Breaking and entering wasn’t something he would have liked to go to jail for, but could you blame him? He knew you were hurting and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone and sobbing.

Chan’s words to you had been far too cruel. Sure he was angry, but anyone in the right state of mind would have realized that something was terribly wrong with you. It was a gut feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake.

His brain was screaming at him to leave as he silently ventured further into the apartment. One step into the hall and then another. He didn’t bother with the common courtesy of kicking off his shoes.

The place smelled like sweet citrus. It was a familiar scent that had belonged to you since he had known you. Once upon a time, Chan marveled at how much you adored citrus. If only he would have been here now.

The carpeted hall felt too silent. The living room was too empty as he stepped out into it. Bookshelves filled with books, a coffee table with the TV remote, photographs of Chan and the rest of the band on the back wall. Your friends were your everything and so was Chan.

Where were the photos of your family, he wondered. It was such a simple thought, but it flew by just as quick. Your presence was here, but yet you weren’t. Where were you at?

He softly called your name and stepped by the coffee table. The bar table in the kitchen had been left abandoned. The hum of the fridge caused his heart to strum faster. There was an eeriness that he just couldn’t shake.

Every fiber of his being was wound up. Loose floorboards creaked beneath his feet. He was sure that he had seen you enter your apartment. From a distance, he watched your figure fumble for house keys and stumble inside. Your hands brushed past your face and he was positive you were wiping away the tears that kept blurring your vision.

He called your name a little louder, but there was no response. His mouth dipped into a frown and he uttered your name again when a faint whimper caught him off guard. His spine stood erected as he waited for another sound, but it never came.

As he approached the room it came from, he was prepared for sobs. He was prepared for tears. He was prepared for the anguish that came with it, but he wasn’t expecting the bright red that began to seep beneath the bathroom door.

His heart stopped and for a brief moment, he couldn’t breathe. Nothing made sense. The circuit of his brain had stumbled across a trip. Something cut out and his brain whirled trying to reboot.

A scream ripped from his lungs as he rushed towards the bathroom and there you were. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even care or notice that he was there.

Full of self-hatred, you were cutting, no. You were sawing it out of you bit by bit. They don’t tell you that when you hate yourself, there is no pain in self-harm. It’s a dangerous sweet release. The stinging and burning sensation fills you with a sense of euphoric triumph. Self-mutilation feels like bliss and the cold blade in your hand feels like a friend. In some twisted way, it can be the best thing you ever feel.

There was blood everywhere. It dripped from the slices in your wrist. It saturated your clothes and it was all over the bathroom floor. Maybe you tripped and fell. Maybe you were set on killing yourself. Maybe you just snapped.

Human skin is so thin that it can easily be penetrated by a single piece of paper. So small, so little, and yet the fiery ache of pain is felt everywhere all at once. You couldn’t feel the fire in your arm. Gone into shock, your body had blocked you from feeling anything.

You weren’t even aware of Jeongin’s presence until he grabbed your arm. Your bloodshot eyes were watery as they met his concerned russet ones. “Please, stop,” he whispered.

With a snarl, you jerked your arm away from him. You started to scream and lash out. He grabbed your hand and pinned you down again.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yelled.

“Please, please, please stop.” His voice wavered. He was terrified for you and he didn’t want to make it worse. He knew how much Chan’s yelling earlier upset you. He didn’t want to trigger you further.

“Leave me alone!” Your shrill voice cracked from desperation. “Get off! Let go!”

“No!”

You swiped the blade down with your hand, nearly cutting him in the process. Your head bucked as you tried to free yourself. He ducked his head with a yelp.

He shoved your bleeding body back onto the floor. Your free hand flew up, in an attempt to stop yourself, but it didn’t work. Your brain rattled around your skull as you were blinded by the sudden pain of it all.

Jeongin panicked as he desperately used the code word to activate the voice command on his phone. When you heard “call Bang Chan,” you lost it even more.

“Stop it!” He begged as you squirmed again. Your hands flailed and you yelled back.

Back and forth back and forth, you refused to let go of the blade. You gripped it so hard that you didn’t care that the sharpened blade cut into your opposite palm. You were fighting tooth and nail to keep a tight grip on it. You weren’t going to let go. Not even Jeongin, one of your closest friends, could save you from the demons in your head.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

In the studio, Chan was ready to slam his head into the wall himself. Changbin was non-stop lecturing him and once Felix found out, Felix was also up his ass. Nobody seemed to understand that they had a job to do.

When his phone rang, he used it as an excuse to leave the pair angrily grumbling to themselves. He stepped out the studio door, just as you had. He let out a sigh before he swiped and answered the call. “What do you want, Innie?”

A thump responded along with a yell. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I.N? What are you-”

“Put it down! Put the blade down! Stop it!”

His heart suddenly turned to ice. “I.N?” He whispered. “What is hap-” The response that you gave nearly dropped him to his knees.

“No one cares! Just let me die!”

He suddenly felt like he was about to projectile vomit. His stomach churned and twisted and the world felt a little blurry. “What is happening?” He raised his voice and began to yell at the phone. “Jeongin?”

“Alexa, speaker phone!” Jeongin cried out. “Chan, I can’t stop them! Please! I need you! I don’t know what to do! They won’t stop hurting themselves!”

The world stopped tilting on its axis. The seconds froze in time. His breath caught in the echo-chamber of his lungs. “No,” he whispered. Tears pricked in his eyes and he suddenly rushed down the hall.

“Don’t let them die! Do you hear me, Innie? Don’t let them die!”

He flew out of the JYP building like a bat out of hell. He clutched his phone, now on its own speaker phone. This path that he used to practically skip after work because he was so excited to see you. Now it could potentially be the path to your corpse.

“Fuck!” He cried out as the struggle continued on the other end of the phone.

“C-Chan?” You croaked weakly. “I don’t wanna do it anymore. I-I can’t.”

Guilt swallowed him whole. He could barely breathe as he ran. “Baby? Baby, can you hear me? It’s okay. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

“You hate me.”

“I could never hate you. I took it out on you earlier and I’m sorry.” His head jerked as he made sure he was pursuing the correct street. His footsteps thudded on the pavement.

“Listen to me, I need you to drop the blade. Can you do that to me? Listen to Innie and drop the blade. I’m coming, okay? I’m nearly there, just listen to my voice.”

To Jeongin’s relief and Chan’s surprise, there was a soft clatter as you released the blade from your hand. You were exhausted after fighting with Jeongin and the blood was starting to become tacky against your skin.

You hated the murky feeling that it left behind. Every movement of your wounded palm oozed more blood. Jeongin panted over your body. Your arms were pinned to your sides as he straddled you.

His own body was painted in your blood. Bright red handprints smeared across his white shirt. His light pair of blue jeans seeped it up like a sponge. There were even fingerprints staining his cheek from where you had swiped your hand at him.

“I’m almost there, I’m coming to the house right now. Where are you? What room?”

“Bathroom!”

Chan burst through the door and into the bathroom. His heart dropped when he found you pinned and nearly half unconscious. Blood was all over the floor. It was smeared against the bathroom cabinets and the tub.

Jeongin never took his eyes off you. He was too afraid that you’d find the blade again and do something worse. Chan ended the call and stepped over the puddle of blood leading into the bathroom.

He softly called your name and stepped beside you. Your eyes weakly met his. He felt like he was going to burst into tears. His knees buckled and he sank down beside you. He didn’t waste time grabbing a wet rag and shifting beside Jeongin.

“Innie, I’ve got it from here, go call an ambulance.”

Jeongin hesitated, but finally nodded and stepped out of the bathroom. Before he left, he kicked off his shoes, so he didn’t trample blood into the rest of the house.

The realization of your situation sent shocks of electricity buzzing through your skull. “Fuck,” you muttered. Tears began to build up in your eyes and they trickled down your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-”

“Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just try to save your strength, okay?”

“I didn’t mean to,” your voice came out shrill.

“I know, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

The lining of your lungs seemed to thicken as you struggled to breathe in. You squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like breathing through a straw. Your brain had expanded with every wrong thought and now you were suffering.

“Baby?” Chan whispered. He leaned forward closer to you and placed his hand over the razor blade, so you couldn’t see it. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Panic attack?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“M-my dad,” your voice wavered. “I can’t-”

“You don’t have to talk.”

“Not a good relationship.”

“Is that who called you earlier?” His eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I assumed, but I didn’t know for sure.” He reached down and pushed a bit of hair from your face.

“He’s not good. H-he yells a-and-” You hiccuped, “abusive.”

“Oh, honey…I didn’t know. I-I was just so frustrated earlier, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I didn’t mean to upset you and I-”

“I don’t feel good,” your eyes drooped further.

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that. Baby? Baby, listen to me!” Not caring about the blood, Chan cupped your face. “Don’t you dare give up! Stay with me!”

The last thing you heard were his desperate pleas as your eyes rolled back into your head.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When you finally came back home from the hospital, Chan forbade you from going to your apartment alone. Instead, he was nice enough to open up his dorm for you to use temporarily. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it was a manageable one for now.

Ever since you regained consciousness, everything had been so foggy, but you remembered bits and pieces. You remembered the wine colored blood and the fear on Jeongin’s face. You remember being unable to breathe and the desperation of Chan’s voice.

Maybe some part of you was glad that you couldn’t remember the entire thing. You weren’t sure that you wanted to remember traumatizing your boyfriend and your friend, at least, not the specific details.

Your hospital stay had ended up turning into a week-long stay. It turns out the hospitals don’t play when it comes to suicide attempts. You didn’t even try to deny it. There was a tender hurt inside of you that you had no clue how to fix.

It was a surprise when things that the mandated therapists were saying made sense. Sure, you knew things were wrong, but to hear validation from people, it made you feel a tiny bit better.

When you left, you promised to come back. There were parts of you that really did want to heal from all of this. You never wanted to put anyone through this ever again. When clarity came through at the hospital, you realized you didn’t really want to die, you just wanted the self-hatred festered inside your being to stop.

You wanted the negative energy to cease and you wanted to be loved. You wanted to be healed in ways you didn’t know how to heal. You wanted a lot of things and the therapists had promised that if you came back, they could start to help you turn things around, but you had to consciously make that decision.

You yourself had to focus on your own healing. It was hard and it was difficult. Healing is one of the hardest things a person can do for themselves, but it can be so rewarding. You don’t have to let your demons win.

“Fight back. Raise hell. Don’t let them win.” It was something another patient had said during a mandated group therapy. “I’m tired of letting the negative thoughts in my brain win. I want to live. I don’t want to just survive, I want to live.”

The more the people talked, the more you realized that you had some of what they were missing. Sure, your parents weren’t the best, but you had friends. You had a significant other. You had little things that some people craved.

For most of your time spent at the hospital, you were lost in your thoughts. You had barely uttered a few words to Chan. When Jeongin came in, you nearly collapsed into tears apologizing over and over again for scaring him.

He insisted it was fine, but you knew it wasn’t. Nothing you could do could ever take back the damage that you had given him. The nightmares, the trauma, it’d be something he might have to live with forever. Sure, it’d fade, but for now, it stuck to the back of his head like glue.

“So…” Chan’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The two of you were standing in the dorm living room. He had sent the rest of the guys over to the other dorm, so you could settle in. “Welcome to your new temporary home.”

This place really was your home. You had been here time after time again. These walls just might have known you better than your own apartment did. You glanced around and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I cleared out my room, so you can have it.”

“We’re not sharing?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

Your hands tugged at the sleeves of your long sleeve shirt. Your fingers curled into them. The damage to your arm was so bad that doctors had a hard time fixing all the damage. They had also been concerned about infection since the wounds were so deep and there were multiple of them.

You played with the hems trying to find words to say. “I’m sorry,” you finally got out, “for everything.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is entirely my fault. I don’t know how to deal with things in a healthy way. I’ve been handling a lot on my own and I broke down. I snapped in the worst way possible. The doctors called it a nervous breakdown.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?”

“Maybe you should be.”

He shook his head, “I could never be mad at you.”

You lowered yourself to the faux leather couch behind you and slowly took in a deep breath. “I have a lot of issues and I’ve always known they were there. I just…” You shrugged, “I didn’t think something like this would happen. I’ve struggled with self-harm before, but I snapped.”

He sat across from you and shifted his body to face you. “I’m really sorry I yelled at you that day. I shouldn’t have ye-”

“You were stressed and upset, it happens sometimes.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“The therapist says I have parental issues from my father and it has affected me in a variety of ways. In fact, she said it’s why I’m probably dating you.”

“What’s wrong with our relationship?”

“She said I need to stop leaning on you to fill the void that my dad left behind and I hate that she’s right.”

“Oh…” His face fell. “So does that mean we’re breaking up?”

“Do you want to?”

He shook his head. “I don’t, but what about you? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t wanna break up either.”

“So…”

“So I’ll attend therapy and work on my issues. I’ll attempt to stop relying on you to make me happy because it’s not healthy.”

“Yeah…”

There was an awkwardness between you. Neither knew what to say and nobody wanted to harm the other. Chan finally broke the silence. “Can I hold you?”

You shifted and crawled over towards him. He was careful of the stitches in your palm and in your opposite arm. You curled into his lap and he pulled you to his chest. Your head leaned against the familiar thump of his heartbeat. “I missed you,” you mumbled.

“I miss you too.” His lips kissed the top of your head. Your sweet scent engulfed him. He leaned his chin on your head and shut his eyes. The warmth of your body was enough to set his soul ablaze.

“My dad wasn’t a good man,” you finally mustered the courage to talk about it. “He called me at the studio and I didn’t read the caller ID. I just wanted to see you after a long day. When I left and went outside, he just started yelling and getting upset.”

“He’s verbally abusive and a hothead. Ever since I was a kid, he gets angry easily and he can’t control it. He throws things, he swings, and he’d destroy my things. I lived my life in so much fear because he’d threaten to disown me. My family never did anything about it, they just let it happen.”

Chan’s hand went to your back. He soothingly rubbed it while you spoke. “I had no idea.”

“I felt like I shouldn’t talk about it because some people don’t have fathers. I should be grateful that I even have a father and I-”

“You don’t have to be grateful to someone who frightens you and makes you hate yourself. That’s not what a father should be. I probably enhanced your fight or flight instinct when I yelled at you, I’m so sorry.”

“Every time I talk to him, I feel miserable. All of them, I’m so angry at all of them.”

“You don’t have to continue putting yourself through any of that. You don’t have to talk to the people that make you miserable. Please don’t keep putting yourself through all this distress, baby.”

“I just want to be happy.”

“And I have no doubt that you’ll get there soon, sweetheart. When you’re feeling at your worst, you don’t have to turn to self-harm. You can come find me, yeah? I’ll always be here for you. Now that I know what’s wrong, I’ll be sure to never act like I did that day. I don’t want to lose you.”

His arms tightened around your body and his lips found the top of your head again. “You mean so much to me. I can’t imagine a life without you. I’d be devastated if you weren’t here. If you ever feel like that, come find me and I’ll distract you.”

“But that’s such a burden for you to carry.”

“It’s not a burden if I love you.”

You finally picked your head up and looked at him with teary eyes. His own eyes were similar as they looked at you. Without asking, you leaned forward and your lips connected.

It was pure bliss…until it wasn’t. The front door to the dorm slammed open. The crack of it into the wall sent both of you pulling away from each other.

Hwang Hyunjin sashayed into the room with a pair of sunglasses, a towel around his neck, and a blue pool noodle over his shoulders. “Surprise, bitches!”

“Hyung, you have no manners,” Jeongin grumbled as he stepped in behind him. When his eyes found you, he beamed. “Hi!” He waved excitedly and rushed towards the two of you.

Minho stepped inside, grabbed the pool noodle from Hyunjin, and bonked him on the head with it. “You insensitive fuck! I told you they couldn’t swim due to stitches!”

“Ow!”

Minho bonked him again. “You’re lucky you’re getting a pool noodle to the head and not a fist to your pretty face.” He glanced over at you and grinned. “Sup?”

Chan sighed and kept his arms clamped around your back. “I’m so sorry about them. I didn’t have time to tell you that I invited all of them over to hang out for a game night and maybe some movies. We can order your favorite foods and w-”

“Hyung, look at all my snacks!”

“Mine too!”

Han and Felix walked inside with grocery bags full of snacks. They wasted zero time going to the coffee table and dumping them out. The pair beamed happily as they waited for your approval and you managed a soft smile.

“You two waste zero time making messes, don’t you? Hey,” Seungmin called out and he nodded towards you. “Glad you’re not dead. I can’t wait to-”

The sound of Changbin screaming your name at the top of his lungs caused your eyes to widen in shock. Thunderous footsteps sounded from the porch and rushed inside. Changbin rushed in grinning with his arms outstretched. He was getting closer and closer until a pool noodle slammed into his face.

He stumbled back dazed and Minho rolled his eyes. He handed the pool noodle back to Hyunjin and shook his head. “You are all unbelievable. You have zero manners.”

“Strike,” Seungmin mumbled beneath his breath.

You snorted which caused him to glance over and grin.

“This is okay with you, right?” Chan glanced down at you. “If it’s too much, I can ask them to go back and I-”

You shook your head, “it’s fine. I’m not sure about participating in games, because uh…” You gently shifted your bandaged arm hidden beneath your long sleeves. “Movie night and food sounds wonderful.”

“Ya-hoo!” Changbin cheered. “Let’s get this party started.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, snacks!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Minho ripped the pool noodle from Hyunjin’s hand and bonked him on the head again. A scowl filled Changbin’s face. “Let the guest pick first.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Hit him one more time and he’s going to lose the last brain cell he has,” Seungmin complained.

“Yeah!” Hyunjin agreed as he crossed his arms over his chest. Minho bonked Hyunjin over the head. He groaned and slumped into the recliner behind him. “Channie, hyung, he’s beating me up! He’s killing my brain cells too!”

“You idiot,” I.N huffed, “you don’t even have any to lose!”

“Hey!”

“So how have you been?” Felix asked as he got on his knees beside the couch. “Do you want a snack? Do you want to play Animal Crossing?”

“Or we could watch an anime?” Han offered with a cheeky smile. “Whatever you’re up for, we’re down with.”

“Exactly, whatever you want, babe.” Chan rubbed your back with some reassurance. “The guys and I got you.”

“Can I just observe you interacting with each other? There’s plenty of humor in that and I-”

“Oh, sure!” Minho beamed. He lifted up the pool noodle with a smirk. “Sit back and watch me play whack-a-mole.”

“Wait a minute!”

“Hey!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Without another word, Minho grinned as he started to take turns whacking the guys’ heads.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi

Masterlist

Requests, taglist, and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stay #skz fanfic #bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #kpop fanfic #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan comfort #bang chan angst

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nanaminokanojo · 1 day

Text

Between 7:00pm and 8:31pm | gojo x you

TW/CW: mentions of death/dying | shibuya arc | misanthropic thoughts | just angst | strong language

"For the greater good? Fuck that."

Four pairs of eyes simultaneously darted towards you, devoid of judgment. More or less, they understood what you were getting at, but you knew what they meant without words. You weren't supposed to say that. Such was your duty and purpose as a jujutsu sorcerer. But you did anyway, giving a voice to the white elephant in the room, acknowledging what everyone was afraid to even give a single moment's thought.

The greater good? Who does it serve anyway? At whose expense? Your friends' lives? Why? Because you were stronger than the rest of humanity? The strongest for the preservation of the lives of the weak?

You were strong. That should be the end of the conversation. You didn't owe anyone for it. You chose to be strong, and those who were born like you weren't there to play the role of anyone's savior just because they have the means.

Fushiguro Megumi was right: you weren't heroes. You may choose whom you want to save. Your addition to that was the fact that you can choose whether to save others or not. That's the cold, hard truth you wanted to live by without having to apologize for it, but that would shake the very foundations the jujutsu society stood for.

You looked towards Gojo. You knew he was looking at you even with his blindfold on and the lack of physical indication that his attention was on you. And somehow, it seemed to weigh more than any of the looks every one else in the room gave you. It angered you that he was resigned to it all when he was the best out of all of you, the strongest, the honored one. He can do whatever the hell he wants and yet he was there with you, wholeheartedly accepting orders to deal with whatever was happening in Shibuya at the moment.

Alone.

"Now isn't the time to –" Nanami spoke, and you usually wouldn't dare with the degree of respect you held for him, but you interrupted him.

"No, seriously. What does this have to do with us?" you asked, stunning them further. You looked at Nanami who was able to escape this life but came back anyway, confusion and rage glimmering in your eyes despite your calm manner. He could have a good life away from everything, but what the hell was he doing there?

And now they're thinking of sending Gojo alone to play along with whatever schemes the enemies are brewing? They're letting him walk into something that – although he was possibly capable of putting an end to – was, by all means, a trap? You refused to stand for it.

You didn't understand. Ever since you were a child, you were taught and trained to become what you are: a jujutsu sorcerer before you were a human; a tool for this greater good – whatever that meant – before you're a feeling, living being. But as time passed by, watching all the people you knew, good ones, lose their lives for this one-track cause, the less you knew. Why do you have to save them? Lives begin and end. It's just there. Why should those people's lives matter more than yours did? Because they're good? On whose standards?

"Y/N," Yaga warned, evidently seeing the ghost of someone he thought he knew well from last year. "This has already been decided by the higher-ups."

"And nobody dared question it?"

"You're treading dangerous waters there," the principal stated, raising his voice. "This is what we do. It's what you chose to do. Have you come to resent it?"

"There lies my mistake."

Shoko placed a hand on your shoulder. "You don't mean that."

"Geto was right." There, you said it, distabilizing the very principles you all stood for.

"Don't go there –"

You gave everyone a sweeping glare, silencing even Yaga. "His methods will never be right, but he knew what he was talking about." You chuckled bitterly. "He always did. And now he's gone."

You started walking out of the room but paused by the bench where Gojo was seated, still looking unbothered. "I never cared that you were the strongest. To me, you're just Satoru."

You looked behind your shoulder. "That applies to you all."

"Where are you going?" Nanami asked.

"You will excuse me if I do not wish to have a hand in murdering my friends or myself for that matter."

"You underestimate me."

You blew the cigarette smoke you were holding in as you stared at the clear signs of veils laid out over the busy streets of Shibuya from where you stood on a building rooftop. Without acknowledging the presence behind you, you finished the last drag of smoke, the burn in your throat and lungs feeling better than all your bitter thoughts and feelings towards the world you've come to know.

"'Just Satoru', eh?"

"You're purposefully being an idiot if you didn't understand what I meant by that." You glanced at Gojo when he came close enough. "Even more so if you think I'll ever underestimate you."

He chuckled. "So, you don't want me to go?" he asked in that melodic, carefree voice, slightly bending down towards the side as if he needed that to take a better look at you. "You have so little faith –"

"Faith, I have too much in you, not because you're strong, but because you are you. What I don't have is sympathy or trust for anyone who thinks they can rely on you all the time to straighten things out."

"And proud?" You let out a humorless laugh. "There's nothing to be proud of in death. There's never any ounce of dignity in it whether you die saving others or if you get snuffed out meaninglessly. It all ends the same way."

His weirdly glossy lips protruded at your sentiment. "Aren't you proud that people are able rely on us?"

"This is wrong." Everything was conveyed in those three words you uttered without any need for elaboration. Gojo merely smiled.

"So, you're scared of dying?"

"No. Dying is easy. That's all where we're headed at one point. You know what's terrifying though?"

"What?"

You finally looked at him. "Giving your life to this cause knowing it changes nothing."

"How very nihilistic."

You shrugged. "A hundred years from now, curses will still be around, kept alive by the very beings we're fighting for at present. And for what? For future generations who will produce curses, stronger and harder to fathom and defeat? All because they can't accept they're just products of a chance in their search to have higher purpose and superiority in life.

We ourselves are cursed. We control that very form of energy to prevent it from evolving into monsters, but it eats us up for the very same reasons."

"Those reasons being...?"

"We're stronger so perhaps we should be responsible for protecting lives around us. Whoever thought of that was fucking cocky, but really, who are we kidding, Gojo?"

He snickered, no doubt thrilled by your unfiltered thoughts. After him, you were probably the biggest thorn on the higher-ups' side with your radical thoughts, at least by their standards. But he still wanted you to jump all the hoops. "Thus your belief that Suguru was right?"

"I'm worse than him. I just don't act on it. I'm super sold on the fact that humans are the scum of the earth, sorcerer or not."

"You're human and a sorcerer?" he pointed out, trying to vex you.

"Exactly."

Gojo patted your head. "And yet you're still here for the very purpose you dare spit on."

You smirked at him. "I don't want you to have to kill another one of your friends for insubordination and subscribing to the ideologies of our realm's Lord Voldemort."

"Suguru had hair and a nose though?"

"He's prettier, too, that cult-leading fucker, but not the point, dumbass."

It was both funny and sad how you speak of the fallen Geto Suguru so fondly as if he didn't kickstart the most massive chaos in recent jujutsu history. But like Gojo, to you, he was just Suguru.

Just then, Gojo pulled you into his long arms, giving you a bear hug that annoyed you more than anything. "You've always been our sweetest Y/N even if you act like Ryomen Sukuna's spawn."

You pushed Gojo off of you, straightening your hair out in irritation. "He's my ancestor after all."

You both made disgusted faces at that little detail about you, but as always, Gojo was quick to recover into his cheerful façade. "Don't worry. I'll be back."

He said that, but not even an hour later, you were hearing Itadori Yuuji screaming from the top of a building in the middle of the deserted Shibuya.

Gojo Satoru has been sealed by none other than the very person – or at least whatever now resides in him – whose beliefs you agreed were right.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk #jkk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 days

Text

[ blanket ] Laios Touden

Prompt used:

[ blanket ] sender notices receiver is cold, so they bring them a blanket and drape it over their shoulders

A/n: It hasn't been that long but I love him.

You were new to the group, and while you were cautious of them you were rather grateful. It's not everyday that someone would take in a Drow. It didn't matter if you looked up to Eilistraee, people just didn't care. It was the very reason to why you were alone for so long.

You didn't think that you would find a family amongst them. You knew it would take some time for them to fully gain your trust, it's not like you can just erase all the years of negative treatment done to you. Though it was one Laios Touden who at least tried, the man asking a million questions a minute about you and any monsters you've faced.

Though it was a one night that you did your best to separate yourself from the group after a rough encounter with a group of adventurers. While the others did their best to stand up for you it still hurt knowing that you were being looked down on, and you rather not let your anger get the best of you and take it out on the only ones that actually cared about you.

Biting your lip, you felt a cold chill take over your body. Your arms wrapped tightly around your knees as you rested your head against them. Though you tensed feeling something draped over your shoulders, something thick and heavy.

Turning to the source you looked up to find a smiling Laios. "You looked a little cold! I know you might not want to be bothered but I couldn't just let you freeze all by yourself."

Biting your lip, you tugged the blanket close ignoring the warmth creep up your neck. Being to preoccupied with your own embarrassment you didn't even notice the man sitting himself down next to you.

"Just ignore those idiots, they don't know what they're talking about. They don't know how wonderful you are." Laios stuttered out, his own cheeks turning pink as he avoided your gaze.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head rest on his shoulder. "Thank you...Laios."

Tensing for a moment, Laios let his body fully relax as he placed his hand near yours."Ah..you're welcome."

#drabbles #drabble #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #dunmeshi laios #laios touden x reader #delicious in dungeon laios #laios touden x you #dungeon meshi #delcious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader

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mjjune · 3 days

Text

TWTR: A COMIC SANS INTRO

as requested/voted on for my 1k follower celebration! thank you so much to everyone who voted and who cares enough about this story to want to know more 💕

artists featured: check them out!!!

@neapaulatan, @ichimakesart, @littlestpersimmon, @akiwitch, @vacantgodling

below the cut is a full image description and twtr's taglist! reply here or message me if you want to be added ✨

[Image Description:

A Comic Sans WIP intro of 9 slides with dark gray background and various images.

Slide 1: Title page with a dark background of green leaves with the title "TWTR: a comic sans wip intro as requested by my followers <3"

Slide 2: "So WTF is TWTR?" with an image of illustrated art of a forest scene with a tree growing through a cottage in the background, a silvery ax with a dragon design sticking out of the earth in the foreground. The slide reads, "a retelling, sorta, more of a sequel ! the prologue is a little red riding hood retelling, and the rest of the novel is the aftermath. red is not so little anymore. the wolf is back for blood and the woodsman has to finish what he started 6 years ago." In smaller font, a note in parentheses says, "and no i will not tell you what twtr stands for. it’s an ongoing joke now that half my betas still didn’t know what it meant even though it was on the signup sheet 🫠"

Slide 3: The Story. Has an illustrated gif image of the woodsman facing away from the audience, his cape blowing in the wind. He has an ax in his left hand, a raven sitting on his right shoulder in the woods. the slide reads: "the woodsman, an outsider, saves a little girl from a legendary beast, only to find out that she’s?? whoops?? the nearby kingdom’s princess and only heir??? so naturally, if you were the queen, and some strange outsider dude pops out of the evil magical forest with your 10yo daughter claiming he saved her from The Wolf™ ... uh, yeah, that’s sus. he’s arrested and has to prove (via dark shit i won’t go into) that he’s magic-free before he can join kingdom society."

Slide 4: Yikes, then what? Has a banner image of the woods with a cloaked figure in the center, fog rising from the bottom, with a raven with glowing eyes in the corner. The slide reads: "over the years, he works his way up to become red’s personal guard. he has his first real friend of his entire life?? 🥺 until the wolf shows back up, working its way through the kingdom devouring people. avery must kill the beast once and for all before it gets to red. as he tracks it, though, he uncovers lies that go deep not only within the kingdom, but his own past. he finds The Wolf™ in the woods, where it offers him a deal: the truth, for red. which will avery choose??? 👀"

Slide 5: Wait so who are these people?? Has 3 icon images of the main characters. First is "Avery, The Woodsman. known for being short, baby-faced, and a man of few words; mysterious past prior to saving red and joining the kingdom." His icon is an illustrated profile view of a short dark-haired tan-skinned man with freckles and a bit of scruff and a serious expression. Second is "Red, Princess Anara. the spirited heir to the throne; angry that she’s not included in royal affairs and wants to learn everything." Her icon is illustrated art of a young girl with blue eyes, red hair in a braid, wearing a dark hooded cloak looking at the audience. Last is "The Wolf™, a monster of legend, rumored to be immortal that lives in the dark forest surrounding the kingdom; the size of a room and devours people whole :P yum yum." Its icon is a dark image of a wolf with glowing white eyes looking at the audience.

Slide 6: Surely there are other characters, MJ??? Slide is plain with a bulleted list of info, which reads: "Honorable Mentions: MAGNUS, the elite guardsman who trains avery and has a complicated history (an unintentional fan favorite); QUEEN ETIENNE, the queen of the kingdom and red’s mom; "GRANDMA", an elderly woman who red liked to visit (secretly) in the woods and was devoured by The Wolf™."

Slide 7: Also Featuring. Slide reads "a badass ax, hand-crafted by avery’s long-deceased parents; giant trees the size of houses; giant burrowing lizards; religious coercion :); magic metal; magic plagues; magic soup; intimate platonic hair braiding; cute child cameos; southern hemisphere world (aka the north is warm and the south is cold)". To the right is an illustration of avery's ax, a dark handle with silvery ax with an etched dragon design.

Slide 8: Ok, but is it gay? with small parentheses note: "how dare you ask me this honestly." Bullet points read: "unfortunately this is classified :) (tbf even in the book i keep it loose and open to interpretation), but here are some themes which may or may not be queer: “(unconscious) true love’s kiss breaks the spell” except does it tho???; princess “uninterested in courting”; handsome shy wallflower guy gets asked to dance by 100 girls and declines them all (think cullen from dragon age lmao); shapeshifting as a metaphor for... things :); found family / family doesn’t have to be blood / adoption; lights vs. dark not being a clear-cut good vs. evil, nuanced morality etc.

Slide 9: Art credits! Slide reads: "a HUGE thank you to all the artists i’ve commissioned! they’re all linked below! check them out! in order of appearance: dark forest scene by neapaulatan; avery cape gif by ichimakesart; foggy banner and wolf icon (fan-made); avery icon by littlestpersimmon; red icon by akiwitch; avery’s ax by vacantgodling. Below the credits, it reads, "Thanks for reading! and as a reminder, all my works have a taglist! if you want a notif every time i post about this wip let me know :)"

End Image Description]

@aether-wasteland-s @annetilney @artbyeloquent @ashirisu @bebewrites

@cljordan-imperium @dogmomwrites @dustylovelyrun @elijahrichardwrites @eventideintrigue

@faithfire-writes @flowerprose @forthesanityofstorytellers @ghafasinej @helioscenic

@isabellebissonrouthier @jamieanovels @lexiklecksi @little-mouse-gardens @marlowethelibrarian

@marrowwife @mr-writes @macabremoons @perasperaadastrawriting @phantomnations

@tate-lin @thyroidhormones @verba-writing @vsnotresponding @wildswrites

#wtwcommunity #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #writerblr #writer community #writing community #fantasy writing #writers of tumblr #wip intro #dark fantasy #wip #w: twtr #comic sans intro #my intro #mj posts

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daenysx · 10 hours

Note

hi angel! what about reader is best friends with aegon and she likes him but modern! aemond likes her. aemond always comforts her when aegon chooses to blow off their hangouts and then she slowly falls for aemond 😇

hi lovely, thank you for requesting! i liked this so much, i hope you enjoy too. requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort ♡

aemond can't stand the wrinkle forming between your eyebrows whenever aegon disappoints you.

"sorry, aemond." you say, blushing hard on your cheeks. "i thought he'd be home, he didn't answer my texts."

his hands shake, he curls his fingers to relieve a bit of tension. "it's okay." he manages to say. "but i don't know where he is."

you look at your hands, biting your bottom lip like you do every time you are upset. aemond hates how he's unable to comfort you, how useless. you try to smile after a second, looking at him with big eyes as if you're trying to stop yourself from crying.

there's always a distance between you and aemond. "sorry for bothering you again." you say, giving him one of your easy smiles. "i'll just leave."

you take a step back. aemond would be damned if he let you go. "wait." he calls. "do you wanna come in?"

you look unsure. you probably think aemond only plays nice with you just because he feels guilty for his brother. the truth is far from it. aemond once saw you cry because of aegon, how your shoulders were shaking and your lips bitten raw. the image of your sad face haunts him, knowing how he'll never be the one you care about makes him wanna beat aegon. how dare he? who does he think he is? how can he have you as his best friend and not even bother to answer your texts when aemond is desperate for one smile from your lips?

"i took enough of your time." you say.

"no, i-" and now he can't even form a proper sentence. "please."

your eyes find his face. "you don't have to do it, aemond."

he doesn't know what you're talking about. "what?"

"you don't have to try to fix his mistakes." you say, somehow you look bolder and more upset, it shatters his heart.

"i'm not- i-"

"i appreciate the effort, i really do." you say. "you probably think how much of a fool i'm being by waiting for his text when he's out there hanging out with people i don't even know."

you stop, take a deep breath. that's when a teardrop rolls on your cheek. "i know it's stupid." you say. "i know he'll never look at me the way i look at him but i can't control how i feel. i- i just-"

your entire body is shaking as you start crying loudly. fuck. aemond's never been good with crying people but he'd burn down the entire world if he could stop your tears. he feels a protective wave in his chest, it's urging him to take the step to get you. you try to dry your tears, totally unable to calm down. you can't even look at aemond, how pathetic are you being right now? crying in front of your so-called best friend's baby brother. aemond should have better things to do other than listening to a girl cry over aegon.

"i'm so sorry." you say when you can finally breathe. "i'm not being fair to you. i'll just leave, you can-"

aemond snaps out of the trance. he rushes to you, his long arms are wrapped around your shoulders easily. you melt, starved for a comforting touch. he holds the back of your neck, fingers lightly wandering in your hair as he puts your head on his shoulder. you bury your face to his neck, wrap your arms around his waist. he smells nice. so nice like the rain or soft morning breeze.

aemond doesn't know how he'd wait so long to hug you. he closes his eye to the smell of your shampoo. his mind is clear like it never has been before. is this what holding you feels like? his skin is desperate for any contact, he's been starved for so long. he can get addicted to holding you easily, the possibility of never doing it again terrifies him. he loses his voice, he loses his patience.

you cry on his shoulder. he rubs a slow hand on your back, his lips tight on your head. he can feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, his fingers itch to dry them up.

you pull back, mortified. you look like you're gonna say sorry again but he can't have that. not again. you're not the person who should say sorry for having feelings or being brave enough to accept them.

"you're not being fair to me." he says. "you don't even know what you do to me."

he begs himself to shut up. he'll lose you. he'll lose the smallest contact with you if he keeps talking.

"i-" you start, still in his arms.

"no." he cuts your words. "it's not fair at all."

maybe people are right about the targaryen madness. nothing he does right now makes sense to him but he can't help himself. he just can't go on like this, not anymore. not when he got you in his arms.

"he- he doesn't deserve you." aemond says with a low voice. "but you know that, don't you? you've always been too clever for your own good."

"what can i do about that, aemond?" you whisper. "i'm trying to get over it. he's my best friend, do you see how fucked up this is?"

aemond shakes his head, his hand on your waist tightens. "trust me, i know about fucked up feelings. i know- i can understand how terrible you feel."

"and i didn't mean to be unfair to you." you continue. your tears dry on your cheeks. "i know you don't have to deal with this but you're nice enough to care about me. i won't disturb you again, i promise."

he takes a deep breath to stop himself from screaming. you're killing him. you don't even know.

"do you think the goodness in my heart is the reason for caring about you?" he asks, can't help gritting his teeth.

you look confused. he wants to kiss you so bad.

"you know what?" he backs off. "let's stop this- just forget i said anything."

he stops holding you, angry at himself for being a coward. he can feel the pins and needles on his hands, his shoulders are tense again.

"are you kidding me?" you ask, your voice is sad all over again. "why- why are you trying to mess with me? have i been that much of a bother to you?"

"stop!" he says loudly. you don't flinch, just stay on your spot with fresh tears on your eyes. aemond will not be the reason of your tears.

"stop saying that you're bothering me." he begs. "stop it- i can't take it anymore."

"then why?"

"because i'm in love with you." he says finally. "i've been in love with you for so long but you're not even aware of my existence when you're not asking for aegon! you think you're the only one with fucked up feelings?"

he kept everything to himself for so long, now that he starts he can't stop.

"you don't know what it's like to see you crying because of that prick. you don't know how i wished that it could be me- just for once let it be me who you care about. you don't know-"

he gets on his knees at the door to his apartment. his face pressed against his palms, staying vulnerable in front of you. he is so fucked. he half expects you to run away.

you are frozen on your feet. you always thought aemond was just being nice to you, all those times he offered you a cup of coffee and listened to you ramble about things. all the smiles he gave you, you were thinking he thought you are pathetic. you don't know what to think now.

it's like you're being controlled by someone else when you kneel beside him. your gentle hands pull his face to your shoulder just like he did minutes ago. you stroke his hair, nails scratching on his neck to give him a little peace. he holds onto you. you hold him back.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i'm so sorry, aemond."

"stop it." he says, finding his voice. "you are not guilty of my feelings."

"i wish i'd known before." you whisper. "i never meant to hurt you."

"don't- please don't run away from me." he pleads. "you don't have to see my face ever again but- i can't lose you."

you kiss his hairline just because it feels right. he feels right at that moment, your legs are numb on his doorstep and your fingers are quick to ease his worries.

"you're not losing me." you say. "i promise i won't leave."

aemond has never begged for anything in his life. wishing is different but begging would make him feel like a desperate man. he's too proud for it. he loses all his pride at your feet.

you cup his cheeks, looking at him through wet lashes. "it's not okay." you say. "it's not."

"i know you'll never feel the same for me." he says, words feel like poison on his lips. "and it's okay."

"there's nothing we can do." he replies. "you can't force yourself to love someone else."

you give him a broken smile. your finger draws a star on his cheek. "can we get inside?" you ask. "i think we need to talk about it properly and- we both need time."

"i don't want you to pity me." aemond says. "you don't have to do this."

"this is not pitying." you say. "i was going to the wrong direction before but- if you give me some time i can find my way."

even the hope of it makes him lightheaded. you are willing to talk about everything honestly with him, trying to give both of you a chance to be happy. you don't want to lose him, not when he feels so right in your arms. not when he holds you like he's protecting you from everything.

when you stand up to walk into the apartment, aemond holds your hand. you squeeze his fingers.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #house of the dragon #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #hotd #aemond one eye #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond x reader #house targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine

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thefallennightmare · 9 hours

Note

Please do a headcannon for Noah meeting already pregnant reader at a festival or through a VIP and instantly wanting to know her better even given the situation. Maybe she assures him she was in grass and no where close to the mosh pits. Baby starts moving around like crazy when it hears Noah's voice.

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka

"Holy shit," Noah muttered to himself when his eyes landed on you.

You, five months pregnant, were standing in line to buy Bad Omens merch.

Noah was helping out Steven, who gave him a weird look.

"What's up?"

Noah pointed to you, who was busy typing away on your phone.

"She's pregnant and at a music festival," he said with worry in his voice.

Steven patted his shoulder. "I'm sure if she didn't feel comfortable, she wouldn't be here. You're always caring about other people before yourself, man."

Rolling his eyes, Noah went to work helping Steven for the next long while. Every so often his eyes would land on you as the line moved forward.

There was a moment when there were only six people ahead of you in line where your eyes caught Noah's and your heart jumped into your chest. His gaze lingered on your face, a smile pulling at his lips, and you caught when he flicked his gaze down to your stomach.

Being pregnant while at a music festival would make others question your decision but you were not about to miss this lineup of bands because you were pregnant.

You were about to become a single mom in four months and knew your time would be limited so you wanted to do all the fun things before that happened.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" Steven smiled when you finally reached the front of the merch booth.

You gave him a warm smile and pointed to the Hell I Overcame sweater. "Can I get that in a large, please?"

Noah, whose eyes never left yours, grabbed the sweater from the box and handed it to you.

"Did you want water or anything to drink?" He asked after you paid.

You held up the reusable water you'd brought from home. "Already on my fourth refill of the day."

You were the last person in line so you didn't have to rush.

Noah shifted on his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Did you enjoy the show?"

You nodded, clutching the new sweater to your chest. "I did. I've seen you guys four times now. One of my favorites."

Noah could wipe away the proud smile on his face but you knew he wanted to ask something. It was lingering in the way he stared down at your bump again.

"Don't worry, I sat on the grass. Totally safe and away from any crazy moshers," you giggled.

You could practically see the worry lift away from his shoulders and he adjusted the hat on his head.

"Are you here with anyone?"

"I was with a group of friends but they already left. Thought it wasn't worth waiting in line for merch."

Noah snickered. "And what do you think?"

You licked your lips, keeping your gaze directly in line with his. "Definitely."

Neither of you said anything for a moment until your baby began moving in your belly, causing you to place a hand over your bump.

"Not now," you quietly groaned. "The nearest bathroom is on the other side of the grounds."

Noah gave a confused look so you sighed. "Some think it's weird but every time I play your music, he moves. Without fail."

"Really?" Noah wondered. "So whenever he hears my voice, it makes him move."

You nodded, with a hand still over your bump. "He hasn't stopped since we started talking."

His eyes shined as he looked at your hand and hesitantly, you motioned to it.

"Do you?"

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Noah said.

He was always curious about how it felt but never knew any pregnant women who felt comfortable about this.

You reached for his hand and placed it on your bump, your son still moving.

"I play your music in my coffee shop and he thinks it's always time for a dance party," you admitted with a laugh.

Noah stared deeply at your bump, marveling at how it felt against his hand.

"Shit," he murmured but then shot his eyes up at you. "Sorry."

You waved him off. "Nothing he hasn't heard before."

Noah stood straight up now and cleared his throat. "You said you have a coffee shop?"

"It's a small place in downtown L.A. My ex husband never cared for it so I got it in the divorce."

"Ex?" Noah did his best to keep the smile at bay.

"Yep. The divorce was finalized four months ago when I found out I was pregnant. He doesn't care so I'm all on my own with everything."

Your cheeks reddened when you realized you divulged too much to this stranger who actually wasn't a stranger. You'd been a fan of Bad Omens for years.

"Sorry, you probably don't care to hear this," you cast your eyes down.

"No, it's alright. I'd love to hear more if you're up for it," Noah said with a smile.

Immediately you agreed. "Meet me at Park Cafe tomorrow? Anytime."

Noah nodded eagerly. "I'll be there."

With a wave you said your goodbyes.

The next day at 10 a.m, Noah stepped through the door of your cafe wearing that smile you found your heart fluttering at. Your baby immediately moving around in your belly.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian headcannons #bad omens headcannons #thefallennightmare

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hhughes · 6 hours

Text

♯ 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 ◞ 𝑸𝑯⁴³

✰ pairing ⤫ fem!reader x quinn hughes

✰ synopsis ⤫ after some comments were made by Quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and Quinn has to reassure you

✰ content ⤫ 4 year age gap! suggestive?

✰ 💭 ⤫ I love writing for quinn so much <3

You and Quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including Luke. Your best friend and Quinn's youngest brother.

The four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. Jack and Luke were chirping Quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. Going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

You laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. Even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old.Your smile quickly faded when Jack started making comments about how all Quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

You know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. It wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with Quinn. Being four years younger than him. Not being enough to keep him interested. These comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding Quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

A few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and Quinn enters, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly

"Nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"Don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." Quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"Do you think I'm too young for you?" the words slip out before you can stop them and Quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"Age is just a number baby," Quinn says teasingly and you sigh.

"Quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"So am I. I don't care if you're 4 years younger or 4 years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. You know how Jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. Especially if there's an opportunity to chrip me about something. If they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that." Quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

"I'm not ready to tell Luke yet." you say and Quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"The longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." Quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

Quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"God it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. Kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. You smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". Your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. If you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and Quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" Quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✗ QH43 #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb

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toasttt11 · 1 day

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age gap

November 28, 2023

Lucia and John have become extremely close the last few months and any one of the team could see that, the two just seemed to intertwine in a way that was incredible to watch.

Lucia wasn’t a big talker and usually just saying a few words here or there, she rarely rambled a lot or yapped but with John it seemed he brought out her talkative side.

Lucia and John have a routine they started this season with Lucia warming up and skating around John while John looks reluctantly fond of her especially as she yaps to him about anything and everything.

“Rusty!” Dawson called out to Lucia as she skated around John telling him a new story.

Lucia looked at John once more before skating away and over to Dawson and gently hitting Dawson into the glass.

Nate smirked shaking his head having seen Lucia and John warming up together, again.

Nate skated over to John and hit him in the shins with stick, John looked over and saw Nate standing there with a mischievous smirk.

“When are you going to admit your feelings for Rusty?” Nate questioned still smirking as he stood next to John on their home ice.

“What?” John spluttered out looking extremely shocked, “What are you talking about i don’t like Lucia.” John quickly denied, “Besides she is a lot younger than me.” John didn’t want to even think about their age gap.

“Is that the reason you’re denying it?” Nate raised an eyebrow realizing why John is not admitting his feelings, “Johnny she is six years younger but she is an adult and can fully make her own decisions and besides i don’t think i could ever see her be with someone her age they would have to be older.” Nate knows Lucia fits in with people older than her than she does with the people her own age.

“It’s still six years.” John weakly mumbled back not wanting to admit how much he has thought about the age gap.

“And so what, you like her who gives a fuck.” Nate shook John’s shoulders dramatically. Nate wanted Lucia and John to get together he knew they are perfect for each other.

John just shrugged looking away from Nate and at the ice.

“John if you like her nothing else should matter.” Nate looked at John seriously, he knew John would worry about the age difference but Lucia would not care.

John slowly nodded, he wanted Lucia he just didn’t know if he could have her.

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beenbaanbuun · 2 hours

Text

paranormal / opposites attract

san yawns as he walks into the dining room, shirt still untucked and tie hanging loosely over his shoulders. in his right hand is a mug of coffee and in his left a pile of mail. he takes a sip, passing the envelopes to an already immaculately dressed hongjoong. you hear seonghwa sigh as he pushes his chair back, standing gracefully before making his way over to the butler. the tired man doesn’t even question it when seonghwa spins him around to finish dressing him, although you do catch him send an irritated looking glance to the werewolf who can’t help but snicker at the scene before him. in yeosang’s eyes its fair game; he too had been dressed by seonghwa before breakfast, as had you.

you reach over to steal a strawberry from hongjoong’s plate whilst his attention is focused on the letters in hand. he barely spares you a passing glance as you pop the fruit into your mouth and bite down, simply rolling his eyes as he rips into an envelope.

“anything for me?” you say mid-chew, only to be cut off by a dramatic sigh from seonghwa.

“finish eating before you talk, lamb,” he scolds as his fingers work on finishing off san’s tie, “no one wants to see what’s inside your mouth.”

yeosang’s giggles grow a little louder before promptly shifting to silence when your foot comes into contact with his shin. you ignore the glare he shoots at you, giving him a kind smile in return, showing yourself as the picture of innocence. no doubt the second you’re excused from the table he’ll have you pinned to your favourite rug, growling at you from where his body hovers above yours. you can only hope your ghoul is preoccupied this time; the poor thing had grown rather worried the last time he witnessed yeosang scolding you.

you swallow the fruit before turning to face hongjoong once more. “well?” you press, “you never answered my question; is there anything for me?”

“is there ever?” hongjoong counters, tossing one letter onto the table before moving onto the next. you cant deny that he has a point, but you can still hope, can’t you? pretend that there are more than just a handful of people that would care for you enough to write. you sink back into your chair and tug your lip miserably between your teeth. the disappointment is small enough to be unreadable to anyone else, but not to your family. he sighs and presses the second letter down against the stained mahogany. “i’m sorry, dove; i didn’t mean it to offend.”

you nod to him, although he doesn’t look fully convinced. with a sigh, he pushes a letter towards you and smiles. “it’s addressed to the ‘kim family’ which you are a part of, are you not?” well, by law, no, but you’d never let either of them hear you say that. you can feel seonghwa’s eyes burning into you as you stare into hongjoong’s so you nod. seonghwa hums as hongjoong shoots you a toothy grin; they’re pleased with your compliance, and you can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh at that fact. “so technically speaking there is something for you, dove. go ahead, open it.”

you do as instructed, picking it up and letting your fingers rip open the wax seal that holds it shut. if you cared to look at it for more than a second, perhaps you would’ve noticed the familiar letters that made up the emblem on it, although perhaps not; JWY haven’t meant a thing to you in such a long time. the last time you saw them was when you were at school with a boy with the same initials. he was certainly something, always teasing you and poking fun. half the time you acted kim you hated him for it, but you have to admit that he left a pretty big hole in your heart when it came time for him to leave. besides the butler, the werewolf and the ghost, you guess he was the closest think you ever had to a friend.

you pull the letter from its sleeve, hearing a scoff to your left as you reveal the ruled paper with the torn edges that had clearly been pulled from a notebook of some kind. in your eyes it has charm, in your lovers it is undignified. still, you unfurl it and let your eyes scan over the page.

dear mr and mr kim,

a bad start already, you find yourself thinking, it isn’t addressed to you at all. you send a scornful look to hongjoong to which he responds with a frown. with a sigh, you go back to reading.

i have no doubt that with a property like yours you must receive an unyielding amount of enquiries from paranormal investigators such as myself. i won’t sugarcoat it and claim to be better than the rest—

blah blah blah……

the author of the letter is right; a never ending stream of similar letters show up on your doorstep, all of which end up shrivelled and burnt on the fire come evening. hongjoong and seonghwa like their privacy a little too much to let a complete stranger poke around in search of a ghost or two. you like your shy little ghost friend a little too much to force him to reveal himself to a stranger who’s bound to lack respect for the dead. you fold the top third of the letter back over, preparing to slide it back into its envelope.

but then you see it, a name scrawled in the same messy handwriting as the rest of the letter. it hits you like a ton of bricks, the pain of missing someone, and although you haven’t seen him in years, it’s just as strong as it was back then. you bite your bottom lip as you study the name, trying desperately to keep the tide of sadness at bay. the others could see it anyway.

finished with dressing san, seonghwa walks over to stand behind you. a warm hand finds your shoulder and rubs at you comfortingly over the thick wool of the cardigan you wear. he reads the last few lines of the letter aloud, “yours sincerely, jung wooyoung, paranormal investigator,” before humming contemplatively, “who is he?”

of course seonghwa knows it’s the name that has you feeling this way. what else could it be? it’s not like the words ‘paranormal investigator’ would set you on edge; your best friends are a werewolf and a ghost, for devils sake.

“someone i once knew,” you reply simply.

“an ex?” hongjoong joins in as his hand fumbles around his plate. his fingers soon wrap around another berry, and he holds it out for you. it makes you smile; how could it not? it’s small things like this that remind you why you love them so dearly.

“a friend,” you take the berry and pop it in your mouth. you chew and then swallow, exaggerating your actions for seonghwa’s sake who simply rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. “he left a long time ago. makes sense he became a paranormal investigator; he always did have a lack of respect for privacy.”

there’s a chuckle from hongjoong and seonghwa as you recount the memory of the man from your past. it’s very rare that they hear positive things about those people so it’s nice to finally find someone you shared a connection with. a shared look between them confirmed what they both already knew; they wouldn’t be letting this ‘wooyoung’ person get away from you so easily this time.

“a friend?” the silent conversation is interrupted by a scoff from the seat beside hongjoong and all eyes find their way to yeosang. the ever present nonchalance on his expression had melted into a pout that looked a lot less fierce than he probably intended it to. “how good of a friend could he have been if he abandoned you?”

ah… jealousy; yeosang’s favourite emotion. it was present when he met san for the first time before realising that san worked too hard to be around you 24/7 like yeosang is. even if the butler wanted to steal you away, he couldn’t possibly spare enough hours in his day to do so. yeosang quite clearly has the upper hand in that situation. then there was the issue of your ghost, which of course had struck yeosang with a bad bout of jealousy once more. the ghost was rather pathetic though, with the constant stream of tears falling down his cheeks and the sound of fragility ever present in his voice. jealousy soon melted into pity; he was reluctant but yeosang soon accepted the bear into his heart.

“we were 14, yeosang,” you smile, “i don’t think he had a say in whether he moved away or not.”

the wolf rolls his eyes rather dramatically and you can’t help but scoff out a fond laugh.

“well, he’s back in town now,” seonghwa purrs as he leans his body over yours. chest to spine, cheek to cheek, he huddles in close. his skin is warm against yours as he cuddles you, and when he pulls his face away just enough to give him room to kiss the corner of your eye, you can’t help but grin. “how about we invite him over some time next week? i’m sure sannie wouldn’t mind putting on food for one more person.” the butler hums in tired agreement, his brain still too sleep riddled to figure out what he’s agreeing to.

you smile, happy in the knowledge that one happy little piece of your past has found its way back to you…

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #opposites attract universe

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jjkamochoso · 1 day

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Lovesick… Emphasis on the “Sick”

Fluff

You have a really bad cold and Levi, of course, takes care of you :)

Levi Ackerman x sick!gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of mucus, runny noses, general cold/flu symptoms, cussing

A/N: hi everyone i am currently Sick as Shit so i really hope this fic flows okay and makes sense!! if it doesn't... yes it does

You had never felt so terrible in your entire life as you did that morning. Your whole body ached like you had gotten thrown into a tree by a titan and your head was throbbing with an intensity akin to thunder and lightning in your brain. Your stomach was getting sore from all the coughing you had been doing the previous night and your nose was completely plugged up in both nostrils. When you finally rolled out of bed, begrudgingly getting ready for work, you could barely stand up. You had no idea how you were going to complete your duties today in the state of exhaustion you were feeling. As a captain in the Survey Corps, you had lots of responsibility riding on your shoulders and you couldn’t let anyone down by taking a sick day. You bent over to pull up your pants which led you straight into a long lasting coughing fit, leaving you gasping for breath like you had sprinted a marathon. You let out an anguished groan as your jacket sleeves were yanked onto your arms to the best of your ability. Looking in the small mirror that sat on your bedroom dresser, your head fell forward in despair. If you thought you felt bad, you looked a million times worse. You were completely disheveled; your skin was taking on a sickly hue and your eyelids were barely staying open. You turned away from the grisly sight as quickly as possible without falling over or bringing on another bout of nausea, opting to pretend you noticed nothing different in the way you looked today if anyone dared ask. You grabbed a few stray papers from your desk that needed to be signed by the commander, choosing that as your first task to be finished this morning. As you closed the door to your room, you winced at the loud noise it made in the echoing hallways, doing absolutely nothing to help your headache. You soldiered on toward Erwin’s office, each step draining more and more energy from your frail body. You were one hallway away from where you needed to be when you felt a cough attack come out of nowhere, your body racking as spit and germs angrily shot out of your mouth and into the arm of your uniform.

“Who is making that disgusting racket?” a firm voice called from opposite of where you were standing. Captain Levi then entered your view, lips pressed firmly together and eyebrows furrowed in a state of repulsion.

“Captain Y/n. I’m not surprised those sounds were from you, you look like shit.”

“Always the charmer, aren’t you, Levi?” you said, sniffling and sneezing into your handkerchief.

“Tch. Why didn’t you take a sick day? I don’t want your nasty germs spreading around the Scouts,” he said, eyeing you from a safe distance.

Another coughing fit.

“Because,” you sputtered out, “I have work to do. I can’t slack off because of a little cold.”

“Looking like you’ve approached death’s door isn’t what I would call a little cold,” said Levi, now sporting a frown. Levi was no stranger to sickness—he’d been surrounded by it since his birth, and especially now while living in barracks with all these people, but it didn’t make seeing you come down with an illness any easier. You were one of his closest comrades and, as childish as it sounds, seeing people he cared for catch a sickness made anxiety bubble in his stomach as his thoughts roamed to the corpse of his beloved mother, staring at him with those lifeless eyes as disease slowly consumed her before she perished. He’d be damned if he let anyone else suffer that same fate so he certainly wasn’t going to let you run yourself ragged.

“I’m fine. I-”

“Go back to your room. That’s an order.”

“We’re the same rank, you can’t boss me around” you said, crossing your arms.

“Does it look like I care?”

Judging by his deadly serious expression, he truly did not.

“I have to get these to Erwin. It’s important,” you told him, waving around the papers you held. Levi crossed the gap between you in quick strides, the papers slipping from your grasp with ease into his own.

“Fine. I’ll take them. Go to bed, brat.”

You weren’t in the mood or right mental state to argue so you began to take your leave. Everything was going fine until you got superbly dizzy, your shoes barely able to grip the ground and keep you upright. You stumbled back toward your bedroom’s corridor but your boots could no longer make purchase on the slippery stone floor. Before you could fall to the ground, though, you felt two strong arms wrap around your middle, steadying you. You immediately knew it to be Levi and you were grateful as he helped you into your room, guiding you to your bed and setting you down as gently as could be.

“You have to be careful. I don’t want to clean up the remains of your cracked skull off the floor,” he reprimanded. You sighed, feeling a bit of guilt creeping up for distressing him. You knew this was his way of letting you know he was worried about you. Sure, he was gruff and used kind words sparingly, but his actions did all the necessary talking for him. And what he was saying right now, as he untied your boots and ODM straps, was that he was there to take care of you.

“Change out of your uniform and into something less presentable. I don’t want you getting any funny ideas of sneaking back to work after I leave.”

“Yes, Captain,” you joked, saluting him lamely and sending yourself into yet another coughing fit. Levi’s steel gaze softened as he observed you in your weakened state. It pained him to see you like this and he’d do everything in his power to nurse you back to health.

When Levi returned to your room a half hour later, signed papers in one hand and a piping hot cup of tea in the other, he wasn’t prepared for the absolute mess he was greeted with. There were used handkerchiefs littering the floor and you were preoccupied with hacking up mucous from your lungs. The sound of the wet cough made Levi cringe to the deepest extent, but he wasn’t deterred; in fact, it made him more determined to get you healthy again in no time. He never backed down from a challenge and this situation was no different to him that solving a problem within the Scouts—with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of strength and courage, he’d get you through this with as little hang-ups as possible. The raven haired man placed the papers from Erwin neatly on your desk, the tea finding a temporary spot next to them for a moment as he procured a mask from his pocket, covering his mouth with the fabric and tying the strings behind his head. He then picked the tea back up and walked to where you were coughing up a storm. He placed his free hand upon your back in an attempt to calm you. It seemed to work as you gained control over your breathing and stopped convulsing. He silently held out the teacup and you took it, a voice cracking “thanks” leaving your chapped lips. His eyes nervously scanned over your figure as you sipped on the warm drink he brought you, intensely looking for any sign of discomfort. As you swallowed down the delightful leaf water, you felt an extreme chill blast through your body. Levi noticed the goosebumps spreading across your skin and, without hesitation, rested the back of his hand against your forehead.

“You have a fever,” he stated plainly, trying to keep his racing thoughts at bay the best he could. Could he make you more comfortable in any way? Should you be under a blanket since you were cold or have a cold compress since you were also hot? How could he help you break the fever?

“Levi,” you whimpered, freeing him from the endless vast of questions he pondered on his mind, “can I h-have an extra blanket, pl-please? I’m f-freezing.”

“Of course.” He responded unnaturally fast, eager to fulfill any requests you gave him. The person taking care of you was still the awkward, almost socially inept, sarcastic man you knew, but the way he so lovingly tucked you in under the soft blanket he draped over your body had you wondering if you died, went to heaven, and were now under the care of an actual angel. When Levi put a cold washcloth to your hot-to-the-touch head, you let out a gasp of relief. Soon enough your eyes were closed and you were asleep, Levi keeping a close watch on how your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm and making sure you weren’t having any difficulties breathing. He could hear that you were still stuffed up and had plenty of mucus build up in the way you were wheezing in your slumber, but he was happy you were at least able to get some good rest for now. He didn’t want to leave your side but he knew you needed medicine so he quickly departed, making a beeline for the infirmary.

"Captain!" the doctor saluted him, "how can I help today?"

"I need your strongest medicine for cold symptoms," requested Levi.

"I'll work on that right away," said the doctor, already preparing the ingredients. "Feeling under the weather?"

"It's not for me. Captain y/n is sick."

"I'm sorry to hear that, I hope they feel better soon. That's awfully kind of you to pick this up for them especially since I know how much you hate coming in here. They're lucky to have you around."

Levi just grunted in acknowledgement and hoped the doctor would end the torment of her making small talk with him. By some miracle, it was like she read the man's mind, making no indication of wanting to continue the conversation. The next few minutes in the infirmary were filled only with the sounds of glass clinking as your medicine was being made. The doctor eventually finished, handing Levi the elixir.

"Thank you," he told the doctor, wasting no time getting out of there. Like the doctor mentioned, he despised setting foot in the infirmary. All the germs and suffering that went on in there was nothing he wanted to willingly subject himself to unless it was a dire emergency. Getting you some medicine was absolutely worth every second in that repulsive place and he'd gladly go in as many times as needed if it meant he could see you well again. Moving through the hallways at top speed, he decided to grab you some snacks from the dining hall since he knew you hadn't eaten all day. Relief washed over him when he saw you were still soundly asleep as he opened the familiar wood door. Picking up the used handkerchiefs and placing them in the pile of used laundry in the corner, he was pleased with how quickly your room looked better. Now out of things to keep him busy, he left you alone one last time to retrieve a pile of his own work papers so he wouldn't fall too far behind. As he took a seat at your desk, he felt his attention roam to you once more. Seeing you lying there, finally so peaceful after experiencing such awful cold symptoms, stirred up an emotion in Levi he couldn't quite place. Sure, you two were close friends, on the same level of trust and respect that he held for his squad and even Hange, but had he ever gone this far out of his way to help them when they were sick like he was doing now for you? He couldn't recall. He disliked watching any of his friends fight sicknesses of any kind but when he witnessed the horrid display of your illness earlier that morning, it felt like his world was about to crumble if he didn't help you that instant. Never in his life had he felt the urge to abandon his duties in favor of doing something else--until today. He'd much rather forgo paperwork and meetings to help you back on your feet, or at least to make you realize you didn't have to struggle alone. He didn't know what was coming over him as he took notice of the strong desire to place a hand on your cheek and tell you everything was going to be okay when you woke up. Levi felt his face get hot with embarrassment at the mere thought of touching you so delicately like that. Was he getting sick too? What was with his heart pounding at the idea of getting close to you like that? He got ahold of himself quickly, deciding to sort through his frazzled thoughts later. Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to: the work in front of him and keeping you as satisfied as possible. You were squared away for now so the only thing left for him to do was work. He glanced at you one last time, burying the lingering feeling of wanting to hold your hand in a comforting manner deep into the darkest corner of his mind where it could no longer torment him, then he turned away and began reading.

Levi's attention was pulled from his work when he heard you begin to cough and blow your nose a few hours later. He was next to you in a flash to help you sit up in bed, fluffing the pillows you had flattened in your slumber. He leaned over your side table to grab a small glass jar with oddly colored liquid sloshing inside.

"Medicine," he explained, taking the cap off and holding the jar out to you. You took it gratefully, chugging the contents. The bitter concoction was unpleasant on your tongue but you knew it would do you good so you didn't complain. You sat in silence for a bit after that, watching birds flit around outside your window, Levi having opened the curtains some to let in natural light. You tried to see what he was doing but his back was turned toward you. All of a sudden, the bright smell of citrus assaulted the one nostril of yours that had temporarily cleared up.

"Am I going crazy or do I smell an orange?" you asked. You were presented with a handkerchief filled with meticulously peeled orange segments, each looking as tantalizing as you'd ever seen.

"I never guessed fruit was going to be the tipping point of you questioning your sanity."

"Making fun of the sick isn't a good look," you grumbled, chewing up the juicy snack as Levi swallowed the chuckle about to escape his throat.

"Eat as much as you can tolerate. It helps your body fight the illness."

You hummed in agreement and the captain went back to filling out his never ending work papers.

"Hey, uh... Levi? Can I ask you something real quick?" You broke the comfortable silence but thankfully Levi didn't seem bothered.

"Sure."

"I'm beyond appreciative for all of your help today and I'm really grateful that you've been here with me... but... " You faltered.

He raised an unenthused eyebrow. "But what?"

"Why?"

When he didn't answer right away, you tried to do some damage control in between your sneezing and coughing.

"I just meant, I know you're always helping where you can and I've seen you bring tea and food to our comrades when they're sick, but I've never known you to be this attentive, or-or nice, as you've been to me and--"

"I like you the best."

His simple reply was astonishingly profound for such generic words. If anyone else had said it, you would still be happy, but for Levi to be as vulnerable as that, you knew you truly meant a lot to the man. You were aware that it certainly wasn't easy for him to admit anything about the matters of his heart and you were considering just how lucky of a person you were to hear any kind of confession from him, let alone such a personal one. However, as you looked at him, there wasn't a hint of stress or uncertainty present whatsoever like you thought there might've been. He spoke of his feelings for you as if they were plain, obvious facts like grass is green or the sky is blue.

"That's good to hear because you were always my favorite, too," you told him, a knowing smile blossoming as your hand slid over the blanket in his direction like you were the arrow in a compass and he was north. Levi understood the deeper intent of your words, the underlying meanings that matched his own. The unbreakable bond you two forged over countless years working and fighting together was something he had cherished for a long time and he was relieved to know you came to the same conclusion he had--you were going to be by each others' side for the rest of time. There was something about you that brought out his most loving, doting side, and though the softer facets of life were foreign to him, he wasn't necessarily against exploring them with you in the future, especially if he and the rest of the Scouts eradicated the titans and established a world free of that ever present danger. With you being as sick as you currently were, though, he didn't want to somehow take any sort of advantage of the situation since he knew some people latched onto their caretakers while in the throes of a fever, desperate for any sort of human contact to ground them. That's why he resisted the call of your warm skin, beckoning him to experience what it felt like to be under your touch, instead opting to rest his hand on the bed near your leg in an attempt to show that he was still there for you. He was content being with you in the same capacity as he previously was--except now, the promise of a care free life with you was another addition to the long list of reasons to fight so aggressively for a better tomorrow.

"I'll look after you until you're healthy. Someone has to make sure you're not infecting the rest of the soldiers with your piss poor cough covering technique."

"Can I request a different nurse? Your bedside manner is leaving much to be desired."

Levi handed you another snack, this time being a big chunk of bread.

"At least you didn't have the stomach flu. I wasn't in the mood to clean up your actual shit."

"Levi, please, I'm trying to eat."

He felt the slight tug of his mouth go upwards into an imperceptible grin. If this was a glimpse into what a future alongside you would be like, he'd do anything to keep you both alive long enough to see it, no matter if his foe was a titan or a viral infection.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi fluff #levi x reader #captain levi #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi ackerman x sick reader #levi x sick reader

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2knightt · 8 hours

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Heyyy!!! Could i please get The gang with a reader they were never romantically interested in, just friends with, getting a glow up? And the gang slowly realizes they have feelings for them? And reader used to have a crush on them? Angsty please 🤧🙏🏽

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ tastes like she might be the one. ⋄ 𓍯

REQUESTED…the gang realizes what they lost a little too late.

tags/warnings: shitty angst, gn!reader, reader isn’t forgiving, EVERYONE is toxic, story-focused, i made reader and the gang stop being friends cuz rejection is awkward.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i seen this req and started maliciously laughing to myself while rubbing my hands

—

johnny cade

falling in love with your best friend. it’s a common troupe in tv shows, but have you ever noticed it never works out in real life?

you watched from a distance as johnny walked around the whole east-side with ponyboy. your ‘best friend’ was hanging out with someone else after telling you, ‘he was busy.’

a sudden feeling of disappointment washed over you. it was no longer the usual sadness you felt after seeing johnny hang out with his other friends after bailing on you.

you were almost numb to it.

the ball in your throat you’d usually get as tears swelled in your eyes evolved into thoughts of what was for dinner.

before, you’d drop hints that you’d like him. all johnny would do is brush them off. you know he’s not stupid and that he knew what you meant, he just didn’t feel the same.

now, you’re avoiding him. which was easier than you think as it still seemed he was uncomfortable around you.

eventually, you just stopped talking. people would ask why you guys don’t hang out anymore or they’d ask where johnny was. all you’d do was shrug your shoulders.

why should you care?

a significant amount of time had passed since johnny last seen you face-to-face. obviously, he was mature enough to admit that it was his fault. but, he can’t stand being awkward around you.

until one fateful and unfortunate day.

“ow! jesus, man—watch where you’re going.”

“yea.”

johnny mumbled, watching the random, rather pretty person, rub their head. you looked up instead of looking down at the concrete, only to meet johnny cade’s eyes.

“johnny?”

“wait-y/n?”

his eyes scanned you up and down, shock settings in. how were you the same person he’d giggle with about the latest comic?

“uh, yeah. tha’s me.”

you mumbled, feeling a little bit awkward from it all. i mean, who wouldn’t? he’s looking at you like you’re a model from the magazine’s two-bit steals.

“…wow. you, uhm—look amazing.”

“yeah, thanks.”

you two muttered amongst yourselves, looking like the epitome of awkward teens. johnny was rubbing the back of his neck as you picked at your nails.

“so,”

johnny started, his voice already shaking and unstable.

“what’re you doing this week?”

“gonna be busy. sorry.”

you waved off his question before saying a sorry excuse for a goodbye.

johnny stood there, feeling slight deja vu as you walked past him. he used to tell you he was gonna be busy to stay away.

and now here you are, doing the same.

the ball in this throat wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried to swallow it back, no matter how hard he tried to blink the tears away.

a familiar feeling of sadness washed over him

dallas winston

“it’s not like i’d ever date you, anyhow.”

sure, he was drunk when he said it as you carried him out of the drive-in. but, you know the saying. drunk words are sober thoughts.

you liked dallas. like, a lot. many might’ve said he wasn’t worthy of you—you disagreed each time. but, it was clear he didn’t feel the same.

he treated you like a friend. which, you two were friends, but it’s hard to watch someone you love treat you like the same guys he puts into headlocks.

after that, you distanced yourself. you knew he was cursing you deep down for ignoring him, fuelling his belief that every person was out for him.

but, you couldn’t look at him without feeling like crying while angrily punching him.

a few months went passed and you, somehow, managed to steer clear of dallas winston for the time being.

until one slip-up.

you and your new-found-friends all watched the drag race with giggles and cheers filling the air.

a tap on your shoulder pulled you out of the trance, turning your head only to be greeted with dallas’ cold, dark eyes.

“i thought that was you, y’know. where the hell have you been?”

everyone got awkward. you avoided his gaze whilst your friends went silent, whispering to each other.

“around.”

“so, you go ‘round and change up your whole look?”

“exactly.”

you answered, an obvious attitude in your voice as you held back an eye roll.

“well, you look good. if that’s what you wanna hear.”

“i know. now go away, dallas.”

you spat before turning your attention back to the track, quickly talking your friends back into their excited mood.

dallas watched as you acted like he didn’t exist. he clenched his jaw as he walked away, his hands in a fist while walking into an abandoned alleyway.

a crack was heard from his knuckles, followed by a groan. his skin was red, fresh wounds opening before he punched the brick wall again.

the seconds felt like minutes and the minutes felt like hours as dallas trashed the alleyway, making it look like a tornado had rushed through only the narrow path.

anger was the only thing he felt. for you embarrassing him and for allowing you to slip through his fingers.

ponyboy curtis

“i don’t see myself datin’ you. you know that, right?”

he snapped after you, not so subtly, hinted that you liked him. ponyboy was always one for brutal honesty, but at a time like this, it wasn’t needed.

the longer and longer you thought about it, you seemed to create this idea of ponyboy. the one that would take you out, not ignore your feelings, step up when he had to, and most importantly—actually like you.

delusional is what you’d call it. psycho is what ponyboy told his friends as you sat across the street with yours.

over summer break, it was only natural you’d mature and grow into your looks. you were always beautiful, but the change was enough to knock anyone out of their seat.

especially when it was your ex-crush slash ex-best friend.

you sat out on a bench by the lot, chin tilted up to look at the stars that twinkled. the concept of ‘vampire stars,’ always amazed you.

things so beautiful were still able to suck the lives out of the ones closest to them. the shining dots in the black ink of the sky still resembled the humans below.

“y/n..? why are you out so late?”

you heard a groggy voice come from behind you after a tap on your shoulder. unfortunately for you, you immediately recognized the voice.

“i was jus’ about to go home, ponyboy.”

you mumbled in response, quick to gather your things. panic washed over pony as he seen you getting ready to leave. his hand grabbed your wrist, loosening his grip as he realized how weird it was.

“can’t you stay a little longer and talk?”

“not really, i don’t see myself talking to you anytime soon. good night, ponyboy.”

you answered rather bluntly as you yanked your wrist out of his hold. you walked away without bothering to look behind you.

ponyboy stood there, dumbfounded. he was always one to read between the lines—so when you told him, “anytime soon,” he took that as, “i’ll talk to you, just not right now.”

call it delusion or insanity, but in his head, he was just seeing someone who is still getting over the crush they had on him.

maybe you’ll like him back soon.

sodapop curtis

“i like someone else, y/n. ‘m real sorry.”

even when he’s rejecting you, he still treated you better than any other guy you’d dated. that’s why you could never say you hated sodapop curtis, he’s too sweet for such a word.

although, he wasn’t all that sweet if he was avoiding you. soda said he’d forget like the whole confession thing happened, but he clearly didn’t even bother trying.

you longed for him to even wave at you. for his eyes to meet yours. you just wanted his attention. desperation was truly a shameful thing.

he was so quick to go and date sandy. maybe it was a blessing in disguise. it helped you move on quicker. slower than most, yes, but quicker than you ever thought.

you had met a rather cute guy awhile back. made you feel like a little girl again with how special he treated you. he made you forget all about soda.

you waved goodbye to your boyfriend as he kissed you on the cheek before you closed the car door. he dropped you off at home, so it wasn’t a far walk. any farther and sodapop, who was sitting inside, would’ve went crazy.

your mom had let him in, pushing your old history aside and offered him a hot cup of tea. he sipped on it while holding back tears.

once the click of the lock was heard, soda’s eyes began to water.

“y/n, sandy she-“

he mumbled as he seemed to lunge at you, his arms already wrapped around you. you felt his tears hit the crown of your head like bullets.

despite your morals, you pushed him away, wriggling yourself out of your grasp.

“dude, you can’t just do that.”

“why not? i thought we were best friends.”

“were, soda. we were friends.”

you said flatly, no emotion past disappointment in your voice when you spoke while you took your shoes off.

“and don’t touch me. i have a boyfriend.”

“you what?”

“yeah. i don’t like you anymore and we aren’t friends. you can go home now.”

soda stood there with a broken expression on his face, he was nothing more than a defeated and an empty man in a house that was no longer comforting.

he watched as you walked around the corner, not even sparing a glance toward him.

a small part of him hoped you would. you’d gotten prettier since he’d last saw you. your eyes shinned brighter, your smile was wider, and you stood with more confidence.

he really, really wanted you to look at him.

darry curtis

“look, y/n. i like you and all, but i needa focus on myself and my football.”

two years ago, before you guys graduated, you confessed. you immediately regretted it.

you looked a fool as darry curtis nervously rubbed the back of his head. all you did was nod and let out a small, ‘okay,’ before walking off.

you went to the college that was the farthest away from tulsa. being in the city reminded you of the embarrassment.

as you studied, you obviously matured. both mentally and physically. you no longer held the silly grudge against darry, even when you had to go back to visit family.

but all it took was a small wave toward darry for all the memories to go rushing back. but, not to you. to him.

seeing you giggle as you played with your younger cousins made him regret telling you he wanted to focus on football.

he envisioned the life you two could’ve had.

you helping ponyboy with his schoolwork, comforting soda when sandy had left him, and making him a home cooked meal when he went home.

but that’s all behind him now. it was just a fantasy.

you two are older. and even then, it’s not like you’d give him a chance. you still think he’s the biggest football star.

steve randle

“i don’t like you. i’m sorry, y/n. i jus’ don’t.”

and he left it off at that. of course, you never out right said you liked him. steve randle wasn’t stupid, however.

he knows how to read between the lines. and you know when to leave someone alone. and steve clearly didn’t want to be around you.

you watched longingly from afar when you seen him in any casual setting. you’d do anything to take the confession back—to go back to normal.

as the weeks and months passed, you never even seen steve. it seemed your obsessive staring and the need to check up on him constantly ended.

the habit, or rather the addiction, finally stopped.

it didn’t stop for steve. he seen you at the DX for the first time in awhile, smiling and giggling with your friends.

you’d only smile like that with him. he grasped the wrench harder as he clenched his jaw.

while paying, steve made sure to walk through the front doors so you’d see him.

“oh. hey, y/n.”

“…hey.”

you muttered with your brows pinched together, looking at him like he was the girls you used to gossip about him with.

“so, uh—you look nice.”

“thanks.”

your boring answer made it seem like you wanted a way out. and steve knew when to let go of a conversation, he wasn’t dumb.

you walked past him and out the door, your friends glaring at him. his eyes never left your figure as you walked away.

he wished he could take back the words he said. maybe if he wasn’t so rude, you’d be back beside him.

two-bit mathews

“you’re funny, y/n.”

funny. funny was what he thought about your feelings. you loving him was funny.

fine. you’d show him funny. let’s see if him being without you was ‘funny.’

you avoided him, ignoring him when he tried to call you over. this would help you move on and show him what was fucking ‘funny.’

the next, ‘hey, y/n,’ should be the last. you couldn’t stand to look at the dumb curl from his brunette hair that rested on his forehead. you couldn’t stand his laugh.

two-bit had gotten the hint. he left you alone even though it felt weird walking around town without you.

he hadn’t seen you in weeks, until at the bar. he heard your giggle and suddenly his heart raced like never before.

maybe it was jealousy or dislike.

two-bit found you sitting on a bar stool, a shot in hand. out of instinct and habit, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“two-bit?”

“why’ve you been ignoring me, dude?”

the humour in his voice was no longer there as he felt nothing was funny in you ignoring him.

“that’s funny, two. go bother dallas or somethin’.”

you grumbled with your jaw clenched, pushing him off you. two-bit muttered something under his breath as he pushed the exit.

he cannot stand the way your hands were still soft or how your lips were still parted when you focused in on the conversation.

#if you notice that i made each character and reader react the same #shout out to you tbh #2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two-bit x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #two bit matthews x reader

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