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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

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Go Heavy on the Red

ALASTOR x (F) READER

Summary: SOULMATE AU. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. Till you died and met him

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunk driving, dugs, alcohol, and sex. Rating: PG-13

For the lovely @anon-of-the-void

Requests are OPEN

In the chaotic realm of Hell, where demons and lost souls roamed endlessly, there existed a peculiar demon named Alastor. With a penchant for mischief and a flair for the dramatic, he ruled over his domain with unmatched charisma and power. But beneath his imposing exterior lay a longing, a desire for something more profound than the endless cycle of torment and chaos that he so loved.

All his life, Alastor’s wrist had been adorned with perfect neat red cursive spelling out the words ‘Going heavy on the red, huh?’. Whoever you were, your handwriting was pristine, perfect for someone like him. Yet, despite this, Alastor never truly believed that he would ever find the soulmate behind the words inked upon him. His tattoo was in red…his soulmate was alive or not yet born. A strange phenomenon for a soulmate not to be born within one’s time but then again Alastor was a strange phenomenon in and of himself.

You were no different. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. ‘New to the whole being dead thing my dear?’ Your soulmate was dead, you always wondered how. You were born with the ink so black and murky that it looked like a void space. The handwriting was a fine print, definitely from a time long past. It looked as though it was printed by an old typewriter or someone who had an orderly and steady hand. Crisp and clean. Maybe your soulmate was like that too?

But fate is an even crueler mistress, and despite laying on the load of soulmates from different eras - your mortal thread was also fragile. As the years passed, your time on Earth drew to a close and when you closed your eyes for the last time after being slammed into by a drunk driver - you awoke not to pearly white gates but deep dark brimstone ones. Your bearings were slim and despite trying to orient yourself to your new environment, nothing was working.

Slowly working your way along the smoky streets, you peered upon an ad for a hotel - the Hazbin Hotel to be precise. The ad was clearly hand drawn with what seemed to be childish crayon but nonetheless the happy picture seemed to stand out amongst the dismal exterior. Following the directions, the streets you walked were perilous. Screaming, crying, the heavy smell of alcohol, sex, and sin filled your nose. Holding your stomach, you convinced yourself that expelling the contents of your stomach right before you approach a hotel didn’t seem like the best idea. You would at least wait to find a decent bathroom…if there was such a thing in this place. In fact, where were you anyway?

Soon, you came to gaze upon an older structure with a giant vacancy sign. Entering the Hotel, you observed your surroundings. A…cat…stood at the bar with a…spider demon there too? A shorter hyperactive woman ran around with a knife…and were those walking eggs?!

“OH MY GOSH!! Hello~! Welcome to the Hotel, my name is Charlie!” Without warning a younger woman with blonde hair and a red suit came up and shook your hand furiously. Dazed and confused, you shook back slowly.

“Oh, hello.”

“So wonderful sinner, would you like a room?”

“Wait, um sinner? I..I am not a sinner.”

“But you are—oh. OH. I see. You’re new!”

“Umm..new to what exactly?”

“Oh, this…this is Hell. You…died?”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. You saw the headlights, he sped through the red light. Crash. Now..now you’re here. Not in your car where you were. But here. In Hell. Hell, the supposedly a fiery pit of destruction and seduction that held the most enigmatic and psychotic of characters.

“Well, let’s get you settled in! Come on, I want to introduce you to everyone!”

Grabbing your arm and dragging you around the Hotel, Charlie introduced you to everyone in an effort to get your bearings and settle down. Little did you know that from the shadows a figure lurked. Watching with glowing red eyes, Alastor peered and sized up this newcomer to the Hotel. Fresh meat was always a good idea and especially with all the changes going around, he felt a need to grasp onto some entertainment. Distract himself with unworthy souls who would fail here spectacularly.

His soulmate tattoo had turned black this morning and his mind began to reel with all the possibilities. Would his soulmate be in Heaven or in Hell like himself? Would fate be too cruel again and separate them not only across time but planes of death? Throughout the day, his wrist started to burn with a fiery pain. They were close…and as this newcomer approached the Hotel, his interest peaked. Maybe they knew something, he would find out sooner or later.

“Alastor, where are you? We have a new guest for you to meet! Oh, he may be a bit creepy but just don’t try and focus on that.”

With a flicker of shadow, Alastor appeared in front of you in all his 1930s red pinstripe radio glory. His voice was static with radio waves, he extended his hand to you.

“Going heavy on the red, huh?”

Static crackle. His grip tightened around your own as he heard your words. With an evil crackle he spoke with a smirk.

“New to the whole being dead thing my dear”

Alastor's grin widened as he reached out, grasping your hand and drawing closer to his wrist.

"Look closely, my dear," He started tracing the intricate patterns etched into their skin. "Do you see it?"

Your eyes widened in awe as you beheld the tattoos adorning their wrists, glowing softly amidst the darkness of Hell. "It... it's...," you trailed off, breath catching in your throat.

"Our soulmate tattoos," Alastor finished, his voice softening with an unexpected tenderness. "Fate's cruel joke on us my dear has come to an end."

For a moment, you were speechless, heart pounding with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "I... I never imagined..." you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.

But before you could speak further, Alastor locked his gaze with yours in an unspoken promise. Manipulation has its place and it was Alastor’s preferred tool.

"In this realm of chaos and despair, we may have found each other against all odds," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of Hell. "But together, my dear Y/N, we shall defy fate itself."

And as they stood there, their souls intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of Hell, you knew that they had found not only their salvation, but also your truest companion amidst the darkness. Alastor knew that he had found his only weakness, the tinge of his dark black heart beating once again. Feelings he knew were real despite his aversion to such moments. Maybe hiding and indulging in this one weakness wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #answered #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #vizziepop #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #radio killed the video star #request #alastor x reader #alastor soulmates #soulmates #soulmate au #fic idea #one shot #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #alastor imagine #alastor fluff

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rainylana · 2 years

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“Baby, are you okay?”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: drug deal gone wrong. eddie realizes just how important you are to him. requested by @sharp-and-swift

warnings: reader has a knife held to her throat, sexual assault (reader is touched inappropriately), language, drug deal, fluff, major hurt/comfort trope (my favorite), special appearance by uncle wayne.

give me love babes mother needs it<3

taglist!

@phantomxoxo @eddiemunnson @eddiemania @ohlovelyhollow @delilahtaylorsverson @tessiemessie @kellysimagines @underthebatcape @blowing-mikey @lillianofliterature @supercalifragilisticprincess @tripthlightfantastic @edzmunsonswife @itiscj @hearts4laura @livasaurasrex @mic429 @avobabe87 @lexthemess21 @noturmom15 @nothisispatric @heeyitsg @genuine-possum @fvcking-gxddess @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @justaproudslytherpuff @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @rovckwells @no0neknowsm3 @flowers-and-tsukki @cosmic-lavender @your-starless-eyes-remain @kaqua @softyutae @ahzysauce @imangy @chaos-incorp @ultimate-sdmn-trash @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @imdoingbetternow @fionnthebandersnacc @imabadarsebard @catherinnn @averysblog @antigoneidk @ches-86 @aa-li-yah @bellasfavoritesweatpants

If Eddie were an animal, he’d be a cat. Why? Because he had nine lives. He had more than nine, actually. He seemed to be void of all danger. Well no, that wasn’t true. Danger stuck to him like glue, but he was amazing when it came to getting out of it. Wayne teased him by calling him MacGyver and that he needed his own show. He loved the danger, the chaos of it all. It never bothered or got to him, atleast until one day when you were involved.

Eddie hadn’t had a bad drug deal in several years. The only people around Hawkins who needed a fix where high schoolers or lone wolves at the hideout. So, he didn’t think much about it when you asked to come along to his next destination.

You walked swinging your hands together, his fingers laced in yours as you crunched the fall leaves beneath your Chuck Taylor’s. It was supposed to be quick in simple. It was a friend of his uncle’s, who he’d never met, but he didn’t think much of it.

When you finally got to the designated meeting spot, you and Eddie sat across from each other at the picnic table in the middle of the woods, tapping your fingers and making small talk. Whoever you were meeting, was late. Eddie tiredly rested his chin in his palm, the cool air a bit nippy at his neck, but his jean jacket kept him warm. He offered it up to you, but you promised your orange sweater was enough.

“Ow.” You complained under your breath, finger scraping too hard at the wood beneath your palms.

“What’s wrong?” He creased his brow across from you, not moving from his position.

“Splinter.” You bit your lip, bringing it up to investigate. “Fuck, hurts like a bitch.”

“Here,” He reached out to take your hand and brought the tip of your finger up to his eye line, squeezing at the skin around it. He muttered a soft apology when you winced at his prodding.

“I think I got a knife in here somewhere.” He padded at his jacket, making you scoff and widen your eyes.

“You’re not cutting that thing out of me.” You shook your head. “Hell nah.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He hopped up and rounded the table to set beside you, holding your red, irritated finger. “Seems like we might have a no show.”

“Get that a lot?” You tried to ignore the pain as he squeezed the skin, gritting your teeth.

“Not really.” He focused on the wood under your porcelain skin, sticking out his tongue in concentration. “Just sell it to someone else if they don’t.”

The wind picked up a bit and shivered inside of your clothes. Eddie hummed and squeezed your wrist. “Told you you’d be cold.”

“Shut up.” You lightly kicked him. You were naturally a cold blooded girl. “Just get this tree trunk out of me.”

Eddie snickered and teased you by squeezing your pained skin, but he finally got it out as you sighed with relief. He took the splinter away from your cut it held it up with victory, a goofy smile on your face. “Tada.”

Victory was not held long though. The dark curtains of his hair kept him from witnessing the stranger from the corner of his vision, and you were too focused on the task at hand, and a scream lodged it’s way out of your throat when you were yanked up from the table.

It all happened so quickly. You were now being held up off the ground, a blade held thickly at your throat and a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Eddie was stumbling off the ground from trying to catch you, his eyes wide in a panicked fear.

“Don’t you fucking move!” Whoever it was behind you screamed into your ear, and you were hyperventilating as your eyes blurred with tears, heart racing like a wild stallion.

“Hey, hey, okay, okay!” Eddie begged, holding up his hands with an unhinged jaw. His eyes were wide and his face had gone pale.

“You got what I came for?” The man asked bitterly. Your body was pressed up against his, and you could smell alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. The sharp blade was right at your jugular, and you were whimpering, not able to struggle and paralyzed with fear, body stiff as the planks you had sat on.

“Yeah, yeah, man, I got it!” He nodded rapidly, eyes flicking between you and who he assumed, was his uncles friend. He needed new ones. “Just.. just, hey, you don’t gotta do this, okay? She’s..she’s not done anything. I’ll give you what you want just let her go, alright?”

Eddie’s voice was shaking, and you could only cry in your captives arms. Your eyes were so wide that it hurt your head, your body was shaking and you had to clamp your mouth shut from screaming.

“What else you got?” The man was larger built, dark hair and tan skin. He looked like a truck driver. Eddie hadn’t seen him before.

“Anything.” Eddie pointed back to his lunchbox. “Coke, weed, acid it’s all yours, man, just let her go!” He was more frantic with his words, knees barely buckling underneath him.

“Give it to me. Toss it over here.”

Eddie obeyed quickly, reaching behind him, arms still up, and tossed over his lunch box his your feet. “Now, let her go.”

You cried out when your body was bent over, the man reaching down to pick up the box. Your eyes never left Eddie’s, wide and terrified, your cries breaking his heart. With one hand, he opened the box and quickly scanned it, giving a satisfied nod. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

He still hadn’t let you go.

Eddie’s stomach twisted upside down when the man’s eyes started to observe the side of your cheek, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the man shushed you sickeningly. You were crying, tears dripping down you neck with soft sobs. You begged yourself not to move. One wrong motion and Eddie would be traumatized for life.

“Hey!” Eddie tried to get the man’s attention. “Let her go.”

The urgency in his voice made you break a sob, cringing and shying away as his free hand came up to pet your cheek, drifting down your hip. You tried to calm yourself. Freaking out would only make your case work, but you could only quiet down so much.

“Hey, don’t touch her, man!” Eddie snapped, taking a step that got the knife digging into your skin even more as he shouted at Eddie to stay away. The action, and the sudden burn of blood that leaked at the cut along your neck, made you hysterically sob and scream out, your legs giving out from under you.

“You shut your mouth before I slit her throat!” He screamed, only worsening your case. Your chest was heaving and you were begging Eddie with silent eyes to help you.

You but your tongue so hard you tasted blood when the man’s hand cupped the space between your legs, squeezing you and making your throat close. You had to look away from Eddie, not daring to let a full fledged whimper out.

“Stop! Fucking stop it!” Eddie screamed in desperation, stumbling on his feet with shaking limbs and wide eyes. “Please, please you got what you wanted, please let her go!”

He gave you a little jostle and licked your neck, rubbing the fabric of your jeans and making you grow cold. He gave your neck a little bite before he loosened his grip on you, removing the knife as he held it out to Eddie. “You keep your distance until I’m gone, ya’ hear?”

Eddie nodded as quickly as he could. “Yeah- yeah, you got it.”

Your body was set free but you couldn’t move, your hands froze in the air as you paralyzing stared off at the side. Your heart felt like it was going to explode. Eddie kept his eyes on the man, who kept the knife up, backing away deep into the woods. When he was finally gone from sight, Eddie ran to you.

It was like your brain had turned to mush. Your face was pressed into his chest and his arms were wrapped around your shaking body so tightly it almost hurt, then he’d pull away to look at your neck, grab your face and hold your hands, pulling you back in to hold you. He was speaking all the while, but you could only hear muffled words. His touches felt fuzzy and tingly, like he wasn’t really there. You couldn’t see clearly, and your tongue felt heavier.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get outta here.”

You didn’t hear it, but an arm wrapped around your waist and led you away from the forest.

•

“Eddie, what happened?”

Wayne had yet to take a sip from his freshly brewed cup of coffee when his nephew barged in with you by his side, shaken up as he ever saw them.

“We got jumped.” Eddie gulped, closing the door behind him, his hand holding yours tightly. “Some guy that..I don’t know, claimed to know you,” He was panting as he rambled, pausing to turn to you. “Hey, why don’t…here, honey, you need to sit down.” His voice had turned so much more gentle as he grabbed your shoulders and softly ushered you to a seat on the couch, crouching down below you. “I’m gonna..I’m gonna get something the clean your neck, okay?” He looked into your eyes and you gave a weak nod, not meeting them.

“Eddie,” Wayne said more seriously when Eddie ventured into the bathroom. “What the hell happened?”

Eddie stopped and his face went white, bringing a hand up to his forehead. He stepped around his uncle to close the door. “He..he came out of nowhere. I didn’t see him. He…he held a knife to her throat and- and he..he- touched her.” His voice broke and he could hardly get out the words. “Fuck,” He grew overwhelmed and covered her face. “He cut her neck a little bit but- fuck, Wayne he touched her right in front of me and she won’t- she won’t say anything, oh god, this is my fault. It’s my fucking fault, Wayne-”

“Hey, hey,” Wayne grabbed his face and pulled him close. “Calm down, Eddie.” He recognized the signs of his past panic attacks, his breathing erratic and face gone of color. “You’re alright. She’s alright. But now you know why this stuff is dangerous, right? You’re lucky nothing worse happened. It needs to stop, bud. You don’t gotta worry about money.”

“I know, I know,” He breathed, resting his hands on his uncle’s arms. “Fuck, Wayne, what do I do? I’ve fucking traumatized her.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

“No, you haven’t, Ed.” Wayne said calmly. “Just learn from this, okay? You’ll both be okay. Just need to calm down, alright?”

Your ears caught the sound of the bathroom door opening, but you didn’t look up. You said rigidly on Wayne’s sofa, knees up and arms laying loosely at your sides. Your face was pale and void of color, eyes glossed over and red, the skin around them swollen and irritated. You felt disgustingly gross. You heard Wayne fish for his keys in the pocket of his jacket, his boots padding in the carpet as he walked around the coffee table to stand next to you. You tried to smile when he bent down to give you a kiss on the top of your head.

Eddie came back to crouch in front of you, tearing open a first aid kit and looking through it’s contents. He muttered to himself about what he needed to find. He had a wet napkin sitting on his thigh, and he picked it and looked at you. “Is it okay if I clean it up a bit?”

You nodded softly and lifted your neck a bit, his hand soft on your skin. You tried not to cringe at the feeling, but you couldn’t help but get a flash of ptsd. You pushed it away. He cleaned as quickly as he could, his other hand rubbing your thigh softly. He kept looking up at you lifeless eyes, a frown on both of your faces. When he finished, putting a dab of Neosporin and a bandaid, he had to speak up.

“Baby, are you okay?” Of course, you weren’t. His lips were pulled down and his hands held your knees, his voice soft like a winter’s first snow.

“Yeah.” You forced yourself to speak, the crack in your voice betraying you.

“Y/n, I’m so, so sorry.” He pleaded, gathering your hands and kissing them. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He kissed up your arm until he got the dent of your elbow.

Never in his life had he felt so much love for another person. He always knew you were important to him, but important didn’t even grace it now. You were his life. Your spirit animal was not a cat, and you did not have nine lives. Eddie wanted to cry again. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby.” He looked up to you from your stomach. “Are you okay? Please, talk to me.”

You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t processing anything. The only thing you did feel was terror. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find words. He could see the confused, complicated look on your face as he sat up. You grew panicked, but before you could get too overwhelmed he cupped your cheek.

“It’s alright.” He said softly, giving you a kiss on the lips, soft and delicate. “You’re alright, honey. Here, sit back.” You leaned back until you rested on the back of the couch, and he propped your feet up on his lap. He worked to untie your shoelaces, working them through the triple nots you tied. He managed to get one off before the damn broke.

When you let out a quiet sob, his eyes snapped up to you, face dropping. You were looking up at the ceiling, holding your stomach as tears fell down your neck as you cried steadily. Eddie disregarded his task at taking off your other shoe and sat beside you, shushing you softly as he pulled you down into his lap, your face scrunched up in his jeans. He leaned down to hold you tight, kissing your shoulder and offering words of apology.

Why did something so horrible have to finally make him realize how much he cared for you?

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson series #eddie munson request #eddie x you #eddie x y/n

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daytaker · 2 months

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The Gang's Tumblr Pages

Inspired by this and my own reaction to it.

Lucifer

Perfectly curated, perfectly formatted, and whenever there's a major change to the tumblr format, he simply leaves the website altogether in a huff of peacock feathers.

Lots of HD photography of nature getting reblogged.

Has an extremely complicated and specific list of tags he uses for every single post.

He only reblogs text posts that are sufficiently visually appealing. Very few meet his high standards.

You could look through his entire blog and not learn one single thing about him except that he's a perfectionist to the point of neurosis.

He has a lot of professional art blogs following him.

Mammon

Oversharing oversharing oversharing!!!!

He regularly gets himself in trouble by shouting about the shit he's done into the void of the internet.

Tried to have a tagging system but forgets about 7/10 times.

Reblogs himself all the time to say "AND ANOTHER THING!!!"

He hates looking at the actual blog pages. The text is always so tiny and some of them start playing music and changing his mouse into a weird shape? No thank you.

He has very few followers and he doesn't really care. Who goes on tumblr for the social element? Weirdos, that's who.

He's insanely easy to troll with anonymous asks. Everyone has done it. Even Lucifer, though he wouldn't admit it.

Some of his best asks:

"did u just post that you're okay with the idea of ponies and unicorns breeding. like no shade on that conceptually but why."

"If you reblog another 'reblog this for good luck' post, I will personally break down your door and steal your skin."

"ur ugly" "yeah-huh" "ugly" "no i won't 'come off anon and fight u' whhy don't you come ON anon and fight me?" "'i don't know how' sounds like something a chicken would say"

Leviathan

He just makes a blog like one of us. Fandom stuff.

Except he's multifandom to the extreme. It's impossible to keep track of his interests because he always has so many simultaneously.

He has the most followers of the brothers just because he gets so deep into so many fandoms that they come rolling in.

He has blocked all of his brothers except for the twins. They're okay.

His blog is a chaotic mess but there is order within the madness. He has a masterpost of tags that explains everything if you care to look at it. (I don't recommend it.)

Satan

It feels stupid to even put this in writing but...cat pics. Endless cat pics. That's like 90% of his blog.

The other 10% is a mixture of book recommendations and analysis, Lucifer shade, and a comprehensive, ever-expanding list of shit Lucifer has done to make Satan angry. It's a very long list. It's organized by theme.

"Lucifer inflicts unjust punishments." "Lucifer makes unnecessary snide remarks." "Lucifer simping for Diavolo and MC (pathetic)."

His blog itself is very minimalist and clean.

He's another fastidious tagger. He tags the cat pics by color, breed, age, number of cats, setting...

Asmodeus

He's not very into tumblr. It's like Devilgram but more complicated and less popular.

Sometimes he'll post or reblog 'aesthetic' things. Moodboards and the like.

In general though, he doesn't really 'get' tumblr.

People don't post selfies very often. Weird.

Beelzebub

Food blog.

Just food.

Reblogging hot dogs.

Reblogging nachos.

Reblogging ice cream.

Nothing else. Ever.

Belphegor

"This minimalist Tumblr has no posts."

No posts.

Default profile picture.

Sometimes he'll like something.

Usually he just looks at it.

Diavolo

There is no order. Only chaos.

He hardly ever uses it, then he'll come online and reblog a million things that have nothing to do with each other. Then he'll go silent again.

He has no tagging system.

He has no custom theme.

He is very friendly to all anonymous askers though.

Barbatos

Barbatos would never have a tumblr. Don't be ridiculous.

Solomon

He only posts very rarely. He prefers to lurk.

When he does post, it's something weird as fuck, like reblogging statistics about owl pellet contents.

He likes to keep people on their toes.

Simeon

Reblogging inspirational quotes, pictures of nature, and general positivity.

That is, once he figures out how the website works.

That takes a really long time.

What is a queue? What are tags? Why is it called a "reblog"? How does he track activity? How does he navigate the homepage? Why does it post things in such a strange order? What is a "Blaze"? What is a draft? Custom URL? Custom Theme? Sideblogs? Mass Post Editor?

Someone please help him.

Solomon probably does that.

Luke

Baking.

He uses tumblr for recipes and images of baked goods.

But tumblr isn't even the best place to go for that, so he isn't on very often.

He sometimes likes Simeon's posts, just as a show of support since he knows how hard Simeon works to post anything anywhere.

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midnight-moth · 11 months

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I have sooooo many good photos from Lyon tonight but I have a flight in 6 hours so please accept this Phantom Orion Void Chaos whatshisname Raindrop love child ghoul rabid kitty cat.

#the band ghost #re imperatour #namelessghouls #he really is nameless #what am I calling him #midnight moth ritual posting

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strnsvt · 2 months

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lee chan — a journey beyond playground.

you were 7, and so was chan, as he observed you always accompanying your older brother, soonyoung, to the playground. where you would sit on a bench, with a stray cat on your lap, observing your brother play football with his friends.

seated in your familiar spot, you would find solace in the routines of watching and the comforting presence of the stray cat amidst the playful chaos of the field.

then suddenly an accident occurred — the football flew over to you, hitting right on your head, causing the startled cat to hiss and run away, as you instinctively pressed your palms against where the football hit you.

your brother ran towards you, hurriedly asking if you were alright, cupping your face to look at your head. as you winced from the sudden impact, another concerned figure darted towards you— chan, rushing to your aid. "you ok? im sorry," he says, worry evident in his voice. you just looked down, tears falling from your eyes as your brother consoles you, "don't cry, don't cry,"

reaching out a tentative hand, unsure of how to comfort you. chan's eyes searched for a solution, a way to erase the mistake, but at that moment, his presence alone offered a strange reassurance. your tear-filled gaze met his, and a wordless understanding passed between you.

you stopped accompanying your brother to the playground then after and chan's remorse weighed heavily on his young shoulders, blaming himself for your absence from the playground. days turned into months, and the field felt emptier without your presence, a void chan couldn't shake off.

chan was 9, and so were you, when soonyoung invited him to your house. chan felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as he followed soonyoung to your house. the memories of the accident weighed heavily on his mind.

upon reaching your doorstep, soonyoung rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the silence. as the door creaked open, chan's heart raced with uncertainty. he glanced up, meeting your gaze as you stood in the doorway, a mix of surprise and curiosity flashing across your face. "i've got chan along,"

while soonyoung excused himself to the bathroom, chan and you sat on the sofa, the living room filled with silence. so chan starts — he calls your name, asking you why you don't join your brother to the playground. you simply shrug, telling him that you've found football boring, and that you've found a hobby to entertain yourself with. as soonyoung returned from the bathroom, the conversation shifted to lighter topics.

chan's visit became a catalyst, planting the seeds of a potential return to the playground, and perhaps, the rekindling of a friendship that had been paused by an unexpected accident.

you were 12, and so was chan, when you two had become good friends, or more. chan would hold your hand and take you to his secret hideout.

once, chan, took you to his hideout and kissed you on the cheek. overwhelmed by shyness, you slapped him. your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as you quickly averted your gaze, feeling flustered by the unexpected turn of events.

chan, taken aback by your reaction, immediately pulled back, his eyes widening in astonishment. "i'm so sorry...i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he stammered, regret and concern evident in his voice.

the both of you go to college now. you being busy with your academics and a goal in your mind to top all your classes, didn't interact with chan or any of your friends.

sitting across from each other, chan and soonyoung ate in a rather uneasy silence. chan sighs, "what is it hyung?"

soonyoung simply takes a bite out of the bread.

"hyung, you're making it worse,"

"lee chan. . .do you like y/n?"

soonyoung's question hung heavy in the air, the silence amplifying its weight. chan, taken aback by the directness of the inquiry, paused for a moment, his gaze shifting uncomfortably before meeting soonyoung's eyes. "what?"

"im serious, chan, my sister doesn't need a distraction from her studies."

"you're treating her like she's seven." chan scoffs, "hyung, we've grown now. you know you should stop being so overprotective to her."

"i know what im doing. im her brother, you brat,"

"i get it, hyung. but it's not the same anymore. we've all grown up, including y/n," chan replied, trying to convey a sense of maturity in his perspective.

soonyoung's protective instincts clashed with the reality of your maturity and growth. "i just worry that distractions might affect her,"

"i promise i won't be a distraction,"

"what?"

chan cleared his throat, feeling the weight of soonyoung's scrutiny. "i mean, i'd be there for her, support her with her studies. not be a distraction but, you know, be by her side when she needs it. as a friend," he shifted uncomfortably, his attempt at clarification still sounding ambiguous.

soonyoung studied chan for a moment, contemplating his sincerity. "alright, but if you hurt her—"

"i won't," chan interjected firmly, meeting soonyoung's gaze with earnestness. "i care about her too, hyung. i won't do anything to jeopardize what matters to her."

the days following that breakfast conversation felt different for chan. he attempted to strike a balance between his studies, social life, and keeping an eye out for you without being intrusive.

days turned into weeks, and chan and you found yourselves engaging in lengthy conversations whenever they managed to steal moments away from your busy schedules. chan, eager to maintain your connection, often initiated your talks, showing genuine interest in your life beyond academics.

"y/n," chan said, leaning in closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "imagine the adventure we could have out there."

"hm?"

"you wanna sneak out for a long drive?"

"what?"

"im serious, y/n,"

"chan, you know my brother-"

"im not afraid of him. i could never be afraid of someone who genuinely believes that he is a tiger,"

"dont make fun of him,"

"sorry, sorry," he chuckles, "but im serious. we'll be careful, i promise," he assured, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "besides, when was the last time you did something spontaneous?"

"...never?"

"exactly,"

the same night, chan helped you sneak out of your bedroom window. "ready?" chan asked, his excitement contagious.

you hesitated, "but where would we go? and won't we be missed?"

"we'll be back before anyone notices, i promise," chan reassures, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "trust me, it'll be unforgettable."

and it was. playing music out loud with the windows rolled down as the wind blew through your hair. as the night unfolded, the road stretched ahead, lit by the moon's gentle glow.

under the moonlit sky, chan and you found solace in these stolen moments. each night brought new adventures, laughter echoing through the quiet streets as you both embraced the thrill of spontaneity. the world felt alive, and so did your connection.

one night, as you sat on the hood of chan's car, gazing at the stars, he turned to you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "y/n," he began, "the moon is beautiful isn't it?"

a soft smile played on your lips as you say, "these nights mean a lot to me,"

"me too," he says with a smile of his own.

he watched you looking up at the moon. a soft breeze played with your hair as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek, making you look at him. "god, i've always wanted to do that,"

"i know,"

"you know?"

"you kissed me when we were like...twelve. that too at that hideout you always took me to,"

"yeah but even before that,"

"before that?"

"yeah. since i was nine...or seven,"

"seven? that young?"

"movies influenced me, what can i say?"

as the laughter subsided, chan's gaze remained fixed on you. the moonlit night held an air of quiet understanding, and you found yourself closing your eyes as chan leans in to place his lips on yours in a chaste kiss-

is what should have happened. instead what you got was a call from your brother.

a/n: super duper rushed ending im sry😔

#chan x reader #dino x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #chan #dino #seventeen #strnsvt's writing

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