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novlr · 10 months

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How to write the cold

The way we feel cold is universal, but the way we contextualise it is not. Cold has a variety of connotations for readers, so it's important to decide how to use it, and what mood you want to convey in your scene.

While cold is often associated with negative aspects in writing, if there's anything the winter season teaches us, is that it can be a positive thing as well. Rather than just using the word cold, in your next writing project, try to contextualise it. Describe the weather, the light on the snow, the comfort of warmth after an icy swim, or the fear and loneliness of the dark on a cold night.

Here are our quick tips on how to write the cold:

In nature

Clean mountain air

Glittering ice crystals

Unique wildlife, like snow hares or polar bears

Snow muffled sounds

Steam rising from hot springs

Icy water in rivers and lakes

Overcast and rainy

Bright sun on fresh snow

Icebergs, glaciers, and ice floes

Storms and blizzards

Branches moving and creaking

Frozen ponds

Morning frost on grass

Snowdrops pushing through snowdrifts

Crisp and clear night skies

Wolves howling in the dark

Bare branches scraping against windows

Eerie shadows

Foods and objects

The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg

Heavy winter coats and scarves

Rich, hot meals with lots of gravy

Tea or coffee left out too long

Ice-cream, sorbets, or ice-lollies

Metal that is cold to the touch (like pots and pans or door handles)

Cold beverages straight out of the fridge

An icy bath

Freezer trucks or walk-in refrigerators

Dry ice

Crisp, fresh sheets on cold nights

Ice sculptures

A tap with a drip that freezes in place

Frozen celebratory drinks (like daiquiris)

A single cube of ice floating in a whisky glass

A cold pack for an injury

Character moods

Isolated

Lonely

Aloof

Sad

Comfortable

Snuggly

Focused

Panicked

Indifferent

A lack of affection

Calm and calculated

Disengaged

Serene

Depressed

Awestruck

Anxious

Reverent

Melancholy

Nostalgic

Impatient

Frustrated

Reflective

Character body language

Hunched shoulders

Crossed arms

Shivering

Snuggling into something warm

Rub hands together for warmth

Tight or strained expression

Biting dry lips

Furrowing brow

Glaring against brightness

Tense and rigid stance

Stand close to others

Slow, deliberate steps

Move quickly to somewhere warm

Sitting relaxed in a warm space

Actions and events

Start a fire or build a shelter

Winter hikes

Outdoor activities like skating, skiing, or sledding

Traffic jams or snowed in cars

Frozen lakes cracking underfoot

Dodging icicles falling from rooftops

Going ice-fishing

Long sea voyages

Frostbite

Suffering from a cold, the flu, or pneumonia

Brainfreeze

Snuggling under a warm duvet

Sipping from a steaming hot drink for comfort

Cold-water swimming

Walking to work in the rain

Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere

Chrismas in July in the Southern Hemisphere

Reading a good book by the fire while it snows outside

Positive aspects

While cold is often associated with negative emotions, using it as a juxtaposition can often help to accentuate the positive feelings you want to convey.

If it's cold outside, a character enjoying a hot chocolate under their duvet will give a much more positive impression than if they were simply staying in bed.

The beauty of the natural world in winter, like snow, ice, and winter foliage can also be used to create a scene of happiness and wonder.

Negative aspects

Cold is often used to describe characters who are emotionally detached, calculating, or generally unfeeling. It's become an easy way to clue your readers in to how they're meant to feel about your character.

There are also more creative ways to use the cold, however, like describing the disappointment of forgetting about a hot drink you put down somewhere and only remembering when it's already gone cold, or the feeling of shock after you first step out of a warm shower.

Helpful synonyms

chilly

frigid

icy

wintry

frosty

cool

nippy

freezing

glacial

brisk

chilled

cool

polar

bitter

snowy

raw

refrigerated

arctic

rimy

draughty

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ieatstarsforaliving · 6 months

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Denial (1)

Summary: Hazel and (Y/N) are the tributes from District 12 for the 74th Hunger Games. Hazel doesn't want to see (Y/N) die. And (Y/N) just wants to live.

Pairing: Tribute!Hazel Callahan x Tribute!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), (Y/N) is kind of a bitch but aren't we all when facing death, I swear she gets better, mentions of death and suicide, lots of mentions of violence with pretty graphic descriptions but it’s just depressive hunger game shit

Word Count: 2614

Note: I KNOW I said I’d write part 3 of Spiderwoman!Hazel Callahan BUT I suddenly craved angst and had to write this. I had to. Just let me post this today and I’ll give you Spiderwoman soon– I SWEAR. Also this is lowkey bad cause I have not written angst in a while. Idk. It's not gut-wrenching enough. I'll make it work somehow. - Bia <3

No.

Not you.

Anyone but you.

Hazel knows what the Hunger Games look like.

Violent. Callous. Sadistic.

None of those words resemble you.

Hazel watches as you walk towards the stage, each step weaker than the other. She thinks you’ll fall over, but you manage to stand beside the extravagantly dressed escort, who claps cheerily in your honor with a guiltless smile. As he chatters about his appreciation for the games, you are expressionless. Your fists are clenched, your eyes fixed on the crowd, blankly staring at the faces of the people who know you.

Hazel has never seen you so scared.

“Well, then, shake hands!” The escort chirps, pushing Hazel towards you.

There’s a pause before Hazel takes your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

Please, please look at me, she thinks. It’s going to be okay–

-But when you do look at her, it's automatic. Empty. Involuntary, as if meaningless to share eyes with a future corpse. Hazel recognizes the shift of the dynamic between the two of you. She is no longer your neighbor, your classmate— no longer the girl you once kissed in the grounds of the forest.

-She is your rival.

Her eyes flick away from you. It feels like you can read what’s in her head, both the shock and the anguish. Hazel is not ready to deal with either.

So she drops your hand and looks away, staring at the camera zooming in on her face.

But in the second of eye contact, Hazel does notice this;

Grief has already struck your eyes.

The train ride is silent. The District 12’s assigned escort, who introduces himself as Meyers, continuously attempts to make conversation with either one of you, talking about what a privilege it is to be traveling to the Capitol.

You choose to be speechless, sitting on the plump green velvet chair with your legs pulled close to your chest. Hazel sits opposite to you, persistently peering while contemplating on how to start up a conversation— or maybe, not to start one at all.

You’ve been subtly ignoring her gaze, trying not to look deliberate in your avoidance. Staring at the passing trees out the window, you’re forced to picture the forest back at home— A hug of browns, shelter of extended limbs, sunlight filtered through the overlapping leaves above.

Along with the images of forest, you’re forced to remember.

It was a particularly cold morning when Hazel first found you in the heart of the woods, the chilling air hanging heavy with the scent of pine and coal. In your hands was a bleeding bird, fragile body betrayed by your well-aimed rock.

It turned out to be a mockingjay, and as the crimson stain spread across its black and white feathers, the satisfaction of your hunt waned. Your hunger persisted, but found yourself frozen. The irony of the prey was a slap in your face. A mockingjay– Why did it have to be a mockingjay? The failed muttation, the insult to the dystopia— the only thing in the world that seemed to be resisting the Capitol— and here you were, unwittingly taking its life.

Hazel approached you, and you flinched– but you didn’t run. You couldn’t, not when her eyes had such softness within them, as if forgiving your savage hand in place of the bird. Without uttering a word, she knelt beside you on the forest floor.

Her fingers dug through the dirt, prodding into her nails until a hole was made. Her hands were soiled but warm as she took the mockingjay from your hands, placing it in the makeshift resting place amidst the roots of a towering tree. You watched as she covered the bird with earth. She then took your hand and guided you back to the fence, back to the meadow, to the bakery, where she bought a small piece of bread in exchange for the shabby jewelry off her neck. You learned later the necklace was a gift from her absent father.

That was the Hazel you became used to. She was strong. Stronger than anyone you ever grew to know– as if to acknowledge that she could one day be standing in the arena. Yet you found her kindness to be her weakness. She never harmed anyone. Anything. She was a refuge from the harsh reality of the televised Hunger Games. And you kept coming back to her, mistaking the comfort for a shield against the brutality of the world. As if being close with her could protect you from any fucking thing. Perhaps that had prompted you to kiss her on that day, the day before the reaping, and all you could think about was how she didn’t push you away.

You snap out of your memories, the weight of the past and the jarring truth of the present boring down on you. You can’t handle either of those. You can’t handle looking at her. You can’t handle being in the same room as her. But the intensity of her gaze has burned into the side of your head, and you feel demanded to meet her eyes once more.

When you finally look at Hazel, her eyes widen.

She starts to open her mouth, on a pathway to a ramble, but the compartment door swings open, revealing a rough man with scruffy braids holding an explicit magazine.

Hazel recognizes him– the only winner left alive from the Hunger Games from District 12. He’s notably muscular, with tattoos that circulate his stocky arms along with a rugged beard to match his image.

He is Hunger Games winner material, Hazel thinks, and feels considerably feeble in comparison.

The man looks around the room.

“Man, I got stuck with two girls this time?”

Hazel starts, “G–”

“-Mr. G to you. I may look like this, but I’m still your mentor.”

You stare at the man as he disappointingly analyzes his two mentees. He decides you’re not promising enough, not giving more than two seconds to consider you two before plopping on the green velvet seat and flipping through his magazine featuring a barely-clothed capitol woman.

“You’re supposed to give us advice,” Hazel mutters.

He scoffs in response, “I’ll give you advice; don’t die too quickly.”

“So you think we have a chance?”

“Hell no,” Mr. G laughs. “Look at you two.”

You and Hazel stare at him. He notices the angry silence.

“Alright. I’ll help y’all.” He shrugs, not looking up from the magazine. “When you arrive, you’re going to be grabbed by the most annoying sons-of-bitches who're gonna get y’all cleaned up and pretty to parade around the Capitol. It’s gonna suck. But you deal with it. No complaining. No resisting. You deal with it. Then you get in the arena, let them throw you around for a bit, and then find something visibly mild to kill yourselves with.”

Hazel stiffens at the line.

“What is wrong with you?” You shout, your voice laced with anger. “My life is on the line.”

Mr. G glances at you with a raised eyebrow, indifferent. “Welcome to the Hunger Games, darlin’. You think having a different mindset is gonna keep you alive?”

“You’re supposed to be our mentor,” Hazel says, her voice trembling. “You’re supposed to help us survive.”

“Survive? You kids from District 12 don’t survive. You endure. You endure and you die. There’s a difference.” He emphasizes on the words ‘die’ and Hazel wants to throw up. “It’s just like the year before this and the year before that.”

“So you’re just giving up?” You push yourself to your feet and step towards him. There’s resentment in your words, clawing at the lifeline that is supposed to be your mentor. “You’re pathetic.”

Mr. G gets up from his seat, looming over your frame. Unwavering, you glare at him. He lets out a chuckle, a brief moment of consideration flickering across his features. Then he pulls back his fist.

In an instant, Hazel rushes in front of you, her body bracing for impact. His fist swings towards you, but it doesn’t land on your face. Instead, it meets Hazel’s, sending her backwards to the floor. The collision makes Mr. G stumble back a step, surprise evident in his eyes.

Hazel groans, rubbing her cheekbone but gets up again, standing in front of you with a defensive stance.

“Ah, I understand now.” Mr. G gawks at Hazel, amused. “The fighter and her protector.”

Then he starts laughing, slowly staggering away from the two of you, walking out of the compartment with his dirty magazine still in his hand. Meyers quickly trails behind him, muttering something about tributes being barbarians and forcefully shuts the door with a resounding bang.

Hazel turns to you, hoping her face isn't red. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t.”

Hazel blinks, taken aback. You’ve pulled away from her, creating a perceptible distance, your face flushed in an unknown emotion.

“I–”

“-Don’t do that.”

Hazel recognizes the barrier you’re attempting to draw between the two of you. She refuses to accept it and steps closer.

“Don’t,” you insist. “Don’t come closer. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. We’re nothing.”

“We’re friends,” Hazel protests.

“No,” you correct her, your voice cracking. “We stopped being friends when we were picked to kill each other. If we hadn’t—”

If we hadn’t kissed, killing you would be easier.

You stop.

Hazel shakes her head, her expression in disbelief. “You’re the one who kissed me.”

She steps closer. You retreat.

“Hazel, stop, please–”

She watches as your body begins to shake. A whimper escapes your lips, which is quickly covered by your hand. Then you’re sobbing uncontrollably, covering your reddened face as a means to hide yourself, but the tears manage to escape from the gaps between your fingers, soaking the condemned dress that you only wear on reaping days.

“I- I don’t–”

Hazel steps closer. “I know.”

“I don’t want to die,” You croak. “I want don't want to die. I don’t want to kill. I don’t–”

-I don’t want to kill you.

The unsaid words ring around the room as Hazel pulls you into her arms. You don’t hesitate to hide your face into her neck, crying earnestly, body burning and painful, teeth clenched as the tears drip off your jaw and you refuse to let your lip quiver like a child. Hazel holds you tighter and presses her hand against the back of your head.

Hazel wants to say something. She opens her mouth.

Then she starts to cry.

As much as she hates Mr. G, he is right about the clean-up process before officially entering the capitol; it sucks.

After arrival, the two of you were separated to different rooms with different stylists. Hazel’s stylist has been going about Hazel for two hours, scrubbing down her body with soaps of intense fragrance, trimming the nails into a smooth oval shape, rubbing makeup over her fresh bruise, painting on her eyelids, and primarily, getting rid of her body hair. She lays on the cold metal bed, barely clothed, as the hairs on her arms, underarms, eyebrows, nose– even places that shouldn’t matter being robbed of its hair. Hazel ignores the soreness of fabric being stripped from her leg, tearing out the hairs beneath it.

Instead, Hazel thinks about killing.

She thinks about the physicality of it. The impact of the blow, the act of stabbing, the struggle of choking someone. She assumes there would be weapons in the arena, there always is. But even back at home, she’s never crossed the line of killing even the smallest of creatures, not even when she was desperately hungry. But laying on the cold metal bed of the stylist’s office, she almost regrets the lack of practice. The visceral brutality, the raw and primal surge that accompanies violence— she’s unsure of it all.

Then she thinks about you.

She pictures a hand wrapped around your neck, slitting the flesh, warm liquid seeping through the fingernails— and the victim writhing, clawing, screaming— then finally falling limp.

Hazel pales at the image. At the same time, she feels a particular jerk at her leg once again, and the stylist squeals the words, “Perfection! You’re beautiful!”

She is ushered to sit up as the stylist grabs a cart filled with combs, bottles, and other products that Hazel doesn’t recognize. A mirror is passed, and Hazel blinks harshly at her reflection. She can see that she looks so… Capitol. Everything about her is enhanced; from hermetically coiffed eyebrows to her skin, perfectly shaped and painted, devoid of blemishes. The bruise from her mentor is gone, too. There's light bits of glitter on above her eyes, amplifying her blue eyes while giving her a much softened look.

She looks like a tribute.

“I really do wish you hadn’t cut your hair like this,” the stylist whines as she ruffles Hazel’s messy head with a sigh. A hairstyle she fearlessly trimmed with a pocket knife, now being sprayed by a sour, citrus themed liquid. “You are such a pretty girl. Perhaps we should glue a wig to your head.”

“Don’t.”

Hazel turns towards the voice.

It’s you. You’re peering through the doorway, your entire form stripped and peeled away just as she is. Hazel does a visible double-take when she sees you, swallowing hard while staring at your half-naked body. She gazes at you, taking in the transformation that the Capitol has imposed on your appearance.

If she thought you were beautiful before, she thinks you’re breathtaking now.

“I like her hair,” You murmur, walking towards the bed. Hazel instinctively reaches up to touch her trimmed mullet, as if to confirm that it’s still there.

“I suppose I can work with a tomboy image. Oh, I see a vision! I’ll be back,” The stylist sings to herself, running out of the room with a sudden enthusiasm.

Hazel is still staring at you.

You shrug. “How do I look?”

Like a lamb to slaughter.

“You… look different,” She says. “I don’t mean it’s bad. It’s good. But it’s also…”

“I know,” you sigh, sitting beside Hazel’s bed. “A true depiction of Capitol beauty.”

“It could be worse,” Hazel starts. “We could be naked and covered in soot for the opening ceremony.”

You laugh, knowing that the only thing District 12 is known for are coals. And there’s not many costumes you can be inspired by coals. Hazel smiles at your laughter, feeling instantly better. It’s a sound she hasn’t heard since the forest, as if a piece of home has been brought back to life. Although the room is cold and metallic, there’s warmth in between the two of you.

Her gaze lingers on your transformed appearance. With the grime and dirt from the District rubbed off, you seem so fragile, so innocent, so out of place in the cruelty of the Capitol. None of you belong in that arena. And all of a sudden anger rises in Hazel. She wants the Capitol to burn. She wants the Capitol to burn for what it does to innocent lives like yours.

Your laughter eases and you’re left staring back at Hazel. The forest and the Capitol are vastly different places. Even the silence is different. Back there, it was a pleasure to be silent. Here, silence is almost sickening. Still, your warmth persists.

“I’m serious about winning," You say.

Hazel holds your gaze.

“I know.”

She offers her hand. You take it. And for a long time, neither of you speak. You just breathe and cling to each other, lost in a moment that's become heavier with your words.

There is a brief pause before the full effect of everything comes barreling towards Hazel. She ignores it.

Instead, Hazel thinks about dying.

Next Chapter: Anger

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter or" "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST if you want to be tagged ok???)

@vster0769 @milktea-academia <333

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #the hunger games #hunger games au #hazel callahan angst

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juvenillia · 8 months

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~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 00: tired

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: so it begins, just a little prologue to get used to my writing and the situation a bit, more of the past, characters, trauma etc. will be revealed through time

CW/TW: mentions of trauma/ptsd, canon violence, guilt, self-harm, depression, loss

Wordcount: 1.5k

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„Lieutenant…”, a raspy voice echoes through the endless void, followed by some heavy footsteps. Slowly your hearing is coming back. The ringing in your ears slightly fading away. You try to push yourself up, but there’s no chance. All limbs feel strangely numb and at the same time as a weight of thousand tons would lay onto your chest. “Lieutenant…”, there’s this voice again, but louder, even demanding. You slightly tilt your head into the direction you suggest it coming from. You suddenly feel an impact and your senses are coming back. An earsplitting sound penetrating your ears. A groan escapes your throat while all the pain suddenly pierces through your limbs. The adrenaline rushing through your veins. Eyelids feel heavy, unable to open them you try to move your body. Another painful groan.

“Dove, you’re hearing me?!”, you finally recognize this familiar voice and force to open your eyes. You feel some warm hands on your cheeks which tilt your head up slightly and that makes you finally push those eyes of yours open. You’re greeted with a pair of smaragd eyes that softens in relief. “Bloody hell, you spooked the shit out of me.”, the voice is soft but still filled with concern. Your lips turn up in a slight smile, but it fades as soon as you see the crimson liquid running down his forehead. “Droplet…”, you whisper pushing your hand onto his shoulders.

He helps you up and steady yourself. “Don’t worry.”, he exhales deeply while wasting no time and putting his muscular arm around your waist and putting your own around his shoulder. “Evac’s on the way. Just a little while longer.”, he clears his throat. Just then you feel another impact. A heavy quake that let you both go down to your knees again. His arm never leaving your waist. You look at him, your chest heavy shaking. Your head tilts into his direction and you’re once more greeted with that god damn smile of his. Eyes slightly closed, completely suppressing the pain he must be in. You take him in and suddenly a wall of fire washing over the image in front of you…

You cry out, jolting up from your current position. Chest violently trembling. Heart racing like it would push itself out of your ribcage. Your hand tries to push it forcefully back in. Clinging on to the wet fabric of your hoodie. Eyes roaming the dark room, which only gets illuminated by the moon that breaks through the tiny window itself. You’re here, in your tiny shithole apartment.

Your hands find the wooden floor you just slept on. At least you tried before the bone crushing nightmare decided otherwise. Pearls of cold sweat running down your spine. You try to catch your breath. Eyes still searching for something to get a grip on. “Bloody hell…”, you exhale after some time when your pulse turns slower, still not to regular though. How long you ask? Could’ve been minutes, or hours. You lost sense of times in those situations. You push away the blankets over you and yourself up, your body feels heavy while you try navigating yourself into the tiny bathroom. The only noise you could hear were your own footsteps, the bare skin sticking to the wooden floor, and the clang of the metallic plates around your neck.

Your trembling hands find the light switch and turn it on. You squeeze your eyes shut by the sudden stress of the lights. You steady yourself at the sink, blinking till your eyes adjusted to the abruptly brightness. You looked at yourself. Your usual good posture completely vanished. You looked at the worst version of yourself. Sunken shoulders, eye bags that could reach your chin. When was the last time you had a good rest at night? You couldn’t remember.

You turned on the tap and splashed some cold water into your face. Cleaning the damp skin. Your hands were still trembling, and you could feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but no salty liquid would come out anymore. Your hands followed the deep lines from all those restless nights. “Pathetic…”, you exhaled only above a whisper before opening the mirror cabinet to pick up a little dose. You throw two or three of those pills into your mouth and drowned them with water from the tap. You looked at yourself in the mirror once more, before turning back to the living room and taking the place on the floor again. You chuckle desperately while pulling the blanket back onto your body.

The thing with trauma is, that you can mask it. You can mask it like every day. Walking around the corner to the coffee shop to get a hot beverage of your liking and smiling softly at the barista, who maybe gave you his number now for the third time. Having a little chat with your neighbor next door, who apparently just got engaged. How long have you been gone? He hadn’t even a girl the last time you two met. Doesn’t matter, you didn’t care about him either. Hearing the ranting of another girl and nodding automatically along, while you’re in a launderette to get rid off the sweat that cling onto your clothes.

All those people didn’t matter. They were only strangers, so it was easy to blend them. You wouldn’t even dare to let him in. It was way too easy to show nothing but social accepted behavior towards them. That mask was keeping up until you were in the emptiness of your own apartment.

This place didn’t mean anything to you. Literally nothing, you can’t remember when the last time was you even spend this long in here. The covers of your bed were untouched. You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep in it. It felt wrong, and therefor that you could never find quite the rest, it didn’t matter at all. The tv had a thick layer of dust onto its screen. You didn’t even know when you had it on the last time. This place was nothing then a place to survive, a placed you needed but never wanted. You had a home once, but you crashed it yourself.

You sighed while your head fell back and landed on the cushion of the couch. You grabbed the phone that was resting next to your head now. You tapped the screen, once, twice, but nothing happened. Of course, you turned it off. Couldn’t keep up with the number of calls and messages you received. They only showed they care, but that was the deadliest thing. Masking in front of strangers? No problem! Masking in front of your comrades, literally the only people who could see behind that cold facade? Impossible.

So, you threw the device back into the corner of the couch. Shutting everyone off was the best decision. You needed to fight your demons alone because everyone of you had to. You simply didn’t want to shoulder someone with another burden. Because that was what you felt like. A burden to others. Your own guilt tearing you apart from the inside. You failed all of them, maybe this really was the time to drop out. Retire that you would never be able again to fail someone. Especially not them. Maybe, this was the final straw. At least that’s what you tried to believe before drifting into the nemesis of your own dreams again.

Six months had passed by now and you were back in the bathroom. Staring at the reflection you learned to despise by now. Your form was back to normal, but it made the situation kinda worse. And it didn’t help at all that the image of the mirror was split into many little pieces. Every little part showing a person you could only punch repeatedly.

Your chest lifting heavy while the carmine fluid runs over your knuckles and drops to the tiles on the ground. You hissed through your teeth while wrapping a cloth around your fist to not make any further mess. Not that you cared, but old routines will always be printed into your brain.

Just then you noticed a weird noise from the living room. The room hadn’t changed a bit over the past months. You were dragged out of your haze when recognizing that it was indeed your phone. Hesitant steps brought you in the living room, with narrowed brows you picked it up. You haven’t heard this sound often after you changed your own phone number to not have to interact with people anymore. Your brows furrowed even more when you read the name on the screen. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore the call. Too much curiosity built in your thoughts and maybe also a bit hope.

So, you picked up, “Didn’t remember giving you my new number.”, you teased, still with a tense posture. On the other end of the line, you can hear a mocking laugh. You sighed at the reaction, knowing that she would find out any number if she only wanted to. “Aren’t you already tired of civilian life?”, her tone was as mocking but still stern. You didn’t answer, but the deep exhale that escaped your throat was answer enough for her anyways. “What I thought, met you in a few.” And then the line went dead.

taglist: open just lmk

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st4rgzer · 5 months

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STRAWBERRY WINE matt sturniolo

summary: I tried to make it about the song “strawberry wine” by Noah Kahan but it ended up just being fluff about strawberry wine

genre: fluff

cw!: alcohol

a/n: I surprisingly didn’t end up writing something super depressing! wow. Also can y’all tell I really like Noah Kahan, also this is very short cause it isn’t angst.

“so what are you drinking?” Matt said, putting his hand on my shoulder, l flinched as his cold fingers grazed the space under my ear.

“strawberry wine” I said throwing my head back to look at him, smiling as I shook the glass that contained a red, almost neon, liquid. He furrowed his brows in a repulsed gesture.

“strawberry wine? I didn’t know you liked wine?” He pulled out a chair and sat next to me, his arm resting around my shoulders as he grabbed the wine glass, glancing at me for permission, before sipping it, a surprised look dawning on him. I laughed at him before pouring another cup of the same wine.

“see? you gotta try new things, you like it no?” I said knowingly, grinning at him and handing him the glass. I laid my head on his chest as his arm remained hung over my shoulders, and sighed comfortably as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

Matt was always scared to try new things, get out of his comfort zone, but he always ended up doing so, he discovered the feeling of accomplishment after finally coming around to try something he’d never done before. He’d come to me for help if he was struggling with said thing, before getting his first tattoo, he spent about a two months with a fake tattoo to see if he liked the placement, asking me if it looked good, repeating it every day, and every day he’d get the same response.

“But are you sure it looks good? maybe anoth-“ I interrupted him, “Matt it looks perfect, don’t worry anymore and lay down with me” I sighed as he rolled his eyes. I opened my arms to him as a smile plastered onto his face, groaning in defeat and laying down his head on my chest as I ran my fingers soothingly through his scalp. He muttered something I couldn’t quite hear.

“What did you say?” I said as he looked up briefly “I said thank you, and I love you” He spoke before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, I giggled as his rough stubble tickled my skin. I sighed and looked to the ceiling, placing kisses on the top of his head once in a while, content with the silence, not needing much more. A bottle of strawberry wine adorned my night stand, I glanced at it and smiled, remembering Matt’s discovery of it.

His arms hung lazily around my body as I had a bottle of strawberry wine hugged between my arms, our bodies splayed on a cotton blanket. I put aside the drink after taking a sip, leaving it on the dirt of the deserted road beside us, turning my body around and letting my head fall onto his chest, melting into his embrace, his chin pressed on the top of my head. I listened to his heartbeat, the same heartbeat that I fell in love with from the start, the one that created the recurrent melody I hear in my dreams. My eyelids grew heavy and the beats echoed in my mind as I started to drift off. Matt kissed my shoulder gently, and repeated the almost daily mantra.

“Goodnight, my love”

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the way he made life a little more bearable, a little more beautiful, but it was definitely love.

a/n: please im pushing myself to write fluff so help is appreciated 🙏 (i’m very sensible so be careful)

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @gaytoadwithapopsicle @stvrni0lo @ssturniolo @strniolo @ifilwtmfc @sturniolol

The follower count is growing so please tell me if you wanna be added!

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt x reader #matt sturniolo image

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itsmealaiah · 3 months

Text

Still interested?

tags/ warnings: reader and andy being friends when they were younger, andy leaving reader and leaving her alone when the band gets bigger, them reuniting years later, p in v, head (m receiving), cursing, mentions of loneliness/ depression.

pairing: andy black x fem

also i got inspo from @buckyalpine so go check their stories out their amazing ❤️

MDNI ⚠️

a/n: finding myself more, trying to get better at writing, expanding my horizons ❤️

your POV:

1998

"Andy!" I called out, rushing over to his house, elated to see him after the very-seemingly long day of school I had endured, knocking rapidly on his front door, waiting for him to answer. A smile was permanently etched onto the features of my small face, impatiently getting bored as I heard footsteps reach the screen-door, signaling he was here. I nearly squealed in pure excitement. "Hi!" I giggled when he stepped out, engulfing him in a tight hug. He coughed, and I backed off. "Sorry, just so happy to see you" I was very hyper, practically bouncing up and down with joy.

"wanna go play on the playground?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. He nodded, and we ran off, laughing at stupid things he said. When we got to the park, I called "dibs!" on the swingset, and he groaned, dashing after me. "come on y/n! that's not fair!" He whined, moving to the side so he wouldn't get hit by my swinging. I stuck my tongue out teasingly, and he grabbed the chains of the swing. "Off" he demanded.

"No" I replied, still mildly swinging back and forth. He halted it to a complete stop, hands grasping the rough metal. "hey!" I complained, trying to start a rhythm once again, but he shut it down. "my turn" he pushed me off, and started to swing, leaving me on the woodchips covering the ground. I grumbled, stomping my feet as I trudged away slowly, anger coursing through my veins.

I went up and down the slides a few times, getting bored by the fifth time. I glanced over at andy, who was still laughing, enjoying the sweet swingset he had forced me off of. "rude" I whispered under my breath, going onto the monkey bars, and slipping when I tried to leap for the other. I winced as my hands now felt sore, trying to soothe the skin as my chest heaved up and down, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. "y/n!" I heard someone yell, and saw andy sprinting towards me, his face deeply worried for me, as I sat helplessly on the spiky chips of the small wood. "are you okay?" he breathed as he reached me, checking me for any injuries or bruises, to which he found one, not too big.

I felt a hot tear make its way down my cheek, and he picked his head up, glancing at the watery mark, wiping it quickly. "hey hey hey, you're fine, don't cry" he pleaded, bringing my sorrowful frame up with him, still a little wobbly. He pulled my left arm over his right, and began to lead me back to his house. I felt more tears glide down my face, sniffling each time as he sent me more worried glances at each little noise that escaped my pink lips. It took a while to reach his home, me being quite heavy for him to drag me along, while I was currently tearing up.

He opened the door, setting me down on his couch, and went to get an ice pack, his mom calling around the house for him. "andy? that you?" she yelled. "yeah mom! y/n slipped on the playground so I brought her back" he responded, and I felt my cheeks get hot with embarrassment. I shrunk into the couch, feeling incredibly small as his mom made her way towards my small body, seeing my tears and how I felt about the whole situation.

Andy walked into the living room, seeing his mom next to me, whispering small words of reassurance as he handed her the pack of ice, and she placed it on my bruise. "Hey, you're going to be okay, everything's fine" they told me, and I believed them, a smile forming on my wet face.

2007

"hey, you're going to be okay, you know that right?" Andy asked, and I nodded, tears coursing down my face and neck, soaking my shirt as I couldn't stop them. He hugged me, attempting to comfort me in some way, but it didn't work, as I continued sobbing into his arms, my heart breaking at the thought of him leaving for God knows how long to go on tour, produce new records, make new albums and music. I had been quite a supporter of the band since its inception nearly a year ago, but I never knew they could go on tour so soon.

I didn't let go, knowing if I did, I would never be able to do anything ever again. Who knew how long they would be on tour? Would he ever return, to be with me? I had almost convinced myself that he would never dare to show his face in this small, desolate town ever again, afraid he wanted to get away, to never come back, that I would have to start a family without him, the man i'd loved since forever.

However, I had to let go, and when I did, my heart shattered, watching him get onto the tour bus, the final waves from him doing little to calm my aching heart, seeming like it was going to burst out. I didn't come out of my room for months on end, interests? lost. Passions? didn't matter. I knew I had fallen into depression, with not being able to cope with whatever the hell I was feeling.

I had to move on, somehow, I couldn't keep thinking about him when he had made his choice to desert his family, his closest friends, and needed to get over myself, no matter what it took.

2012

Andy's POV:

it had been years of no contact from y/n. I had no single clue how she was doing, or how she was holding up. From what I had seen the day I left to go on the road, I knew it was already taking its toll on her, the heavy streams of sobs on my shirt and neck making it abundantly clear she was broken, and was going to be broken until I came home.

I needed her, and she needed me just as much. It broke me, seeing her sad face as we drove off, leaving her on the driveway of my childhood home. I didn't know whether or not she still cared, or if she even thought about me anymore. I know I did, everyday, all day, into the depths of the night, the break of the day when the sun streamed through the curtains of my bunk, it was excruciatingly painful, not seeing my girl, the one I had loved for a lifetime.

I had cried that night too. the first night was the hardest, my body sore from the no sleep I had received that night, my head pounding from the constant ache of my sobbing. I had gotten into drinking not too long ago, and everytime something would come up about her, a memory, or a mention, I drank it away, repeating that cycle everytime it happened. I didn't care much anymore. I sang, I did what the managers of the record labels asked, be present and sober-looking enough on stage so no one could really tell what I was putting me and my body through.

Going out to a bar tonight was what I had convinced myself would be best, get her out of my mind once and for all, make her evaporate, leave no memory of her behind, but when I entered, I saw her. My beautiful girl, and my heart nearly stopped. I gasped, my head spinning when my eyes laid on her dancing frame. She didn't seem sober.. at all? That was out of character for her, I couldn't believe what I was seeing at all. She never drank, even when she was peer-pressured, sometimes by me.

Her curves were shown perfectly by the dress, swinging around just as she did on that swingset all those years ago. it barely covered shit, the back as non-existent as our contact these past months. My eyes were heavy with tears, tears I didn't know what from. I melted at the sight, she looked so happy, dancing like her life depended on it.

I began to make my way over to her, giddy with the feeling of seeing her again. I reached for her arm, gently sliding my fingers against it, hoping she'd notice. She didn't, so I tapped her shoulder a little bit harder, and she turned around. Her face went from happy and carefree to angry in a millisecond. She slapped me on the arm, pushing me back as I gasped. "Y/n?" I rasped out, trying to calm her down. "Don't you even think about it" she growled, a hand now placed on her hip as she fumed.

"It's me" I tried to hold my tears back, my heart breaking once again. "I know it's you dipshit, i'm not that drunk" she sighed. "Why are you here?" she questioned, and I noticed she was barely able to stand up straight, leaning on her leg for support. "Y/n, how many drinks did you down tonight?" I said warily, grabbing her arm so she was able to stand up better. "Not too many, like..fourteen?" she asked, tilting her head up so she could think. "Fourteen?!" I yelled, and she nodded. "Yeah fourteen sounds about right" she shrugged, and now I was angry, angry at myself, angry at her for letting herself get like this.

I pulled her out of the booming place, dragging her to my car. We had been able to book a hotel for the night, an amazing comparison to the hard bunks on the bus. "Hey! Where are you taking me?" she slurred, trying to release herself from my grip, but to avail, she failed and sighed. I placed her in the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt and began to drive. she looked like she was going to pass out, her eyes fluttering open and closed within each second. "no, no, y/n, stay the fuck awake, okay? just a few more minutes" i breathed, beginning to speed up and push the accelerator.

When I finally got back to the place, I dragged her in under my arm, just like when we were kids. I lugged her up the elevator, her drunken body heavy as hell, ready to fall down at any given moment. I pressed the button for my room, and waited. y/n was making small whimpers, whines, and groans as she swayed back and forth, and I was getting more anxious. The doors flew open and I immediately took her out with me, stringing her along to my suite. I slid the card, and opened the door, placing her on the bed, grabbing pain relievers and water.

I forced her to take them, and seeing she was beginning to sober up, which made me sigh in relief. "Hey princess, you doing okay?" i sat down next to her, rubbing her back as i pulled her into my embrace, wrapping my arms around her. I heard her sigh, and I tried to get a better angle of her, to try and see her. she looked like she was crying, and my heart shattered once again that night. "I missed you so much" she sobbed, burying herself into my chest.

"I felt like I couldn't live without you andy, it was hell for me" she whined, and i ran my fingers through her knotted hair, and she leaned into my touch, sighing while the tears ran down her face, ruining her makeup. "I missed you too princess" i caressed her face, rolling her over so she could see me. "really?" she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "yup, all day, sometimes i couldn't even get out of bed because all i thought about was you"

"and now you're here, with me, and i couldn't be any fucking happier, i'm never letting you and me slip apart ever again" I assured her, kissing her lips gently as she gasped into my mouth. I backed away, my head mere inches from her soft lips as I awaited for a response a nod some-

"do that again, please" she begged, she fucking begged, and I smiled, kissing her lips softly, tracing the edges with the tip of my tongue, hands on either side of her beautiful face. It seemed like a miracle to have her back in my arms, holding her, kissing her. She moaned into the kiss, cinching her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. I ran my hands up and down her body, rubbing the sides, anything I could get my greedy hands on. She whined, lifting her hips up subconsciously, and I chuckled darkly. "need me that bad, huh?" I teased, and she nodded frantically. "gonna let me undress you?" i questioned, hands sliding to her dress, grazing over the thin, barely existent straps holding it up.

She let out a small 'mhm' and i seized it, baring her body to me as I sucked in a breath, seeing how her nipples poked through the fabric of her bra, desperately seeking friction as I pulled the lace down, and I latched my tongue onto one, sucking the bud fiercely and harshly as she writhed beneath me, kneading the other roughly, as she moaned and whimpered, beginning to yell my name. "patience baby, you're doing s'good, don't wanna have to stop" she only let out a small noise in response, seemingly begging for more.

I stopped my actions, and she grumbled. "be a good girl and don't test me, got it?" I smacked her side and flipped us over so I was lying down on the pillows, still fully clothed. "take em off baby, ev'rything" I demanded, and she obliged, unzipping my low rise jeans, and relieving me of my boxers, the tent painful as fuck before she took them off, throwing them across the room.

"what should I do now?" she asked, her eyes weary and innocent. Had she not fucked anyone all those years I was gone? "suck" I commanded, placing her head onto my dick, her lips wrapping around it as she quickly deepthroated me, swallowing me whole as moan after moan escaped my throat. "ngh, doin' so well baby, keep going" i urged her on, my hips bucking up in her face as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue sometimes slipping against the underside of my cock, to which I cried out each time, her tongue now abusing the swollen tip that leaked pre-cum, all while looking up at me, trying to get the knowledge she was doing it right, she was making me feel good.

"oh god baby" i groaned as my orgasm approached quickly, the tightening sensation becoming more unbearable by the second, each lick, each suck of her dirty little mouth driving me insane, fueling me enough to release my cum down her throat, some spraying on her face as she looked to me again for instruction. "swallow" i stuttered, trying to hold myself steady, my thighs shaking and my head a little woozy.

She fell limp against the bed, and I took the chance to get on top of her again, flipping us over once more, and didn't even give her time to get used to me, I just thrust in, and she whimpered, her face etching in pain. "ow" she complained, and I realized from earlier she wasn't quite used to sex, particularly any type of sexual act. I sighed, pulling out so she could get used to the feeling, that it wouldn't hurt so much the second or even third time, hopefully all with me.

I slowly slid in, holding her hand the entire time, making sure she was okay, that she was holding up well, and when she gave me the okay to began, I still held her hand, my other pushing her legs up to her chest so I could thrust harder, deeper, to make her feel what I felt only seconds earlier.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you" I growl, and she shivers, scared. "You gonna let me ruin this good little pussy? gonna let me cum in it?" I tease once again, and she nods, a shriek escaping her lips. "yes! oh god yes!" she screams. "andy! so good-mmph!" I nearly collapse at the sound of my name leaving her pretty, parted lips as she wails from the pleasure, making me thrust harder and harder, and I dig my rough fingers into the sides of her hips, not caring if they'll leave marks.

she gropes my hair, trying to hold onto any and everything she can so she doesn't fall flat against the bed, and I let out a small groan, hips snapping up against hers in a fiery manner. She lets out multiple sounds of praise, begging for more, for me, but I feel another orgasm coming, and the tightening sensation also coming back as I repeatedly hit her cervix, bruising it, and I know she's close too. I moan loudly as I release myself in her warmth, her cum spreading across my lower abdomen as she releases, falling limp on the bedsheets, eyes shutting and opening back up within spurts.

"did s'good baby for your first time, promise there'll be more" I reassured, kissing her forehead, tucking her into the covers with me as we both fell asleep, wrapped tightly in each other's embraces.

#andy biersack imagine #andy biersack fanfiction #andy black #andy biersack #black veil brides #itsmealaiah #andy sixx #american satan #johnny faust #paradise city

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hongmingoo · 5 months

Text

Breaking Down

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x reader

Synopsis: Wonwoo didn’t hear the last part for your dying breath to him, only hearing up to “I’m sorry, Wonwoo” and began to swirl into the depths of self-loathing. The story of the people you left behind.

Spin-off of Untitled,

Inspired by: Breaking Down by Ailee | Doom at Your Service | Hi Bye, Mama!

Word count: 3.4+k

Warnings: MINORS DNI | Major character death, critical ilness, heavy angst, very slight mention of suicide, mental illness, self loathe, hurt, grieving, depression, ghost!reader. Let me know if i miss anything.

a/n: I just wrote this story in one go, a product of my overwhelmed feelings poured into writing. It might not be as good and there might be grammatical errors and typos too but please pardon me anyways. Please enjoy, and do reblog and like this story to support me 🙂<3

You gasped, at the sight before you.

Wonwoo was breaking down, crumbling into himself. He was tearing himself apart, shredding every last bit hope that held his person together with his own bare hands. He wouldn’t listen to anything anyone says, wouldn’t let anyone come near him. He shut himself from the world, diving head first into deepest pit of misery known to man. And it was because of you.

“I love you, Wonwoo. My love…” you breathed but he didn’t hear you. Tears are blurring your vision as you watched the scene unfolding before you– Wonwoo clutching your lifeless body tightly in his arms as he sobbed his heart out on your chest, desperately trying to find your heartbeat. Your brother burst through the door, with a bunch of nurses and doctors in tow.

“AED. Intubation.” he called out to one of the residents. A nurse pushed through with a cart equipped with the machine, charging it as she placed all the pads needed onto your body. She held out the paddles for Joshua to take but he gulped. He looked over to his wife, who finished intubating you, and nodded. Joshua stepped back, letting his wife take over the process as his hands trembled in fear. He collected Wonwoo in his arms, rubbing circles on his back as he watched the painful process of reviving you.

“Come on, Y/n. Come back to us” Iris croaked as she pumped at your chest while the machine are being charged and placing paddle for shock.

It has been 30 solid minutes, the resident at head of the bed was getting tired of pumping oxygen into your airways with no response. His posture began to falter that the airbag slipped from his grip.

“Pull yourself together!” Iris barked, hands still pumping at your chest.

“Enough” Joshua called out, the residents and nurses stopped immediately at their Head of Department’s order but Iris does not relent.

“What are you doing? Move your hands!” she argued, voice breaking.

“Iris. Enough. You’re hurting my sister” Joshua warned, his voice firm and demanding. Iris turned to argue her points but the words died on her tongue immediately. His eyes are hard but filled with pain. Clear droplets are lining his waterlines glazing his dark brown orbs. Wonwoo broke free from his grasp, tugging at his collar roughly.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!! REVIVE HER!! ARE YOU GIVING UP ON HER?? SHE’S YOUR SISTER!! MY WIFE!!” he screamed, shaking the older man, desperation clear in his voice.

“I’m never giving up on her. But i won’t hurt my baby sister anymore, Wonwoo. She doesn’t deserve to be in pain anymore” Joshua replied, his voice surprisingly calm. Wonwoo opened and his closes his mouth, unable to utter any words out. He knew his brother was right, you have been in pain for so long. You doesn’t deserve to suffer anymore but he can’t just let you go. Not when he made you cry until the end of your breath, not when you apologized to him for something that wasn’t your fault. Not when he’s sure you hated him.

“No… No… Y/n… She apologized to me. Her last words were ‘I’m sorry, Wonwoo’. She cried and apologized to me, when she did nothing wrong. How am I supposed to live with that?! How can I apologize to her if she leave me like this?” he rambled, looking back and forth between your body and Joshua. Silently praying that he’ll agree to save you again, to bring you back so that he won’t wallow in regret.

“Patient name, Hong Y/n. Age 36. Time of death, 0415am, December 30th 20xx” Joshua announced, staring at his wrist watch to avoid the gaze lingering upon him. Wonwoo fell down to his knees, before he began yelling and screaming from the news. The doctors tried their hardest to hold him back, but he was tall and big, the tallest among them. It took 5 of them to hold him as he fought back, trying to reach for you.

“Give him the sedative” he heard in the back of his mind, eyes never leaving you even as his vision blurry from his own tears.

“Wonwoo-hyung” he heard this time, saw a vision of Mingyu rushing to him as his vision fades and he blacked out.

You stood there, invisible to everyone’s eyes as the chaos ensues in the midst of the cold and quiet atmosphere of the hospital. You watched Wonwoo broke down, Iris trying her hardest to hold back her tears as she worked on you. And you watched Joshua swallow his tears and pain– trying to be the mature adult here, acting as the responsible guardian that he is.

But you could see it in his eyes, the pain, disappointment, loneliness and most importantly, sadness. It was his 43th birthday today, you promised to give him a scarf that you’ve trying your hardest to knit, celebrate his birthday together with a cup of warm latte and croffle on the rooftop of the hospital today, while you guys plan what to do for your birthday on the 7th of January. It has been your sibling tradition for years since your mom passed away. You both always made time for each other despite your busy schedules to spend these two days with just each other.

“You broke your promise. You’d have to stand on your hands for 1 minute straight now” he mumbled under his breath, as if he knew you’re there, right next to him all the time.

“You can all go. I’ll finish up here. Mingyu, please bring Wonwoo to the next room so that Iris can check on him. The rest are dismissed. Thank you for your hard work” Joshua said, as he bowed deeply to his staffs. They all stepped out of the room, leaving him behind the closed door reluctantly. Iris and Mingyu lingered in front of the front door, hesitant to take the next step. But they knew Joshua needed the time alone. It wasn’t until they heard Joshua’s painful wail that they bawled their eyes too. The man was still bowing towards the door, as he let out the sobs that he held back an hour ago into the empty space of the cold ward room. He then walked to the bed and took a seat at the edge, caressing your pale face with his knuckles gently.

“You’re still warm. My baby…” he sobbed, choking on his own tears.

“Shua…” you cried, sitting behind him, resting your head on his back, arms wrapping around his torso.

“Why did you take her away too early, mom? I wasn’t ready to let go of her yet. I feel like I haven't taken care of her enough. I wasn’t a good brother to her. I haven’t done enough for her” he paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“But I'm sure you want to spend time with her more now, since you too didn’t get to spend enough time with her before. I hope that you’ll be happy together. I’ll send Y/n off properly, so please take care of her again, omma. I love you both so much” he exhaled his shaky breath, trying to manage a proper smile, but he wasn’t able to hide the pain he’s feeling right at the moment. So, joshua allowed himself to breakdown, bawling his eyes out, as hugged his sister’s lifeless body tight.

“You’re the best brother I could ever ask for, Shua. I love you so much and I’m sorry for leaving you behind”

Wonwoo woke up two days later, for the funeral. To be honest, he didn’t have the slightest energy to carry himself around, let alone arrange the funeral and visitation. He let Mingyu dragged him to the bathroom to wash him and dress him, tidying his hair, applying chapstick to his cracked lips. He let the younger fed him water, any sort of food he can bring himself to chew, only to vomit them all out mere minutes later. He let himself be walked to the funeral hall, where he saw the portrait of you smiling so brightly, sitting at the center of the of the parlor surrounded by white chrysanthemums. The younger gently sat him down on the cushions to the side so he could lean on the wall.

Joshua came, wrapping the same band that he’s wearing for chief mourners around his right arm.

“Just stay here, with her. I’ll handle everything, okay?” he asked, staring into Wonwoo’s lifeless orbs who stared back at him blankly. He squeezed the younger’s shoulders for encouragement before moving away to greet guests and handled everything that needs to be done. He doesn’t care. He can’t. How could he?

He lost you. He lost the light that shines his being, his meaningless life. And losing you meant losing his life too. He felt like it was his fault, that you suffered, till the end of your breath, that you cried for him and you apologized to him instead of saying you love him.

Why did you apologize? You didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault that you got sick. You didn’t ask to fall ill. You never did. Even in the worst moment, you were still smiling at him. You still hug him, assured him, that everything will be okay eventually. But because he cried, he begged you not to leave him. He begged, pleaded and asked for mercy that you’d stay with him just a day longer, an hour, a minute, a second longer as your life wilted away.

He had wept in your arms when you were in absolute pain, that you apologized to him for leaving him behind as your last breath. He kind of thought that he deserves this. This is his punishment for being so selfish, for forcing to to go through all all those painful therapies that worn out your fragile body day by day. He doesn’t deserve you.

He let everyone stares at him as he cried yet again, staring into the walls of the hall with empty eyes. He let those who mocked him be for being so irresponsible on his own wife’s funeral. He let those judgemental stares pierced through his soul, because there’s nothing he could think of other than you’re not being with him anymore. He let those nasty whispers ran through his mind when people scoffed at him for being pathetic. He let his mom hug him and cried for him when he didn’t respond to her calls. He let Iris took away your son to comfort him when the three year old boy cried for his dad.

But you were there, right in front of him, as he stared up at your portrait when everyone already left. You have been there from the very beginning, watching him, staying with him. He just couldn’t hear or see you. It breaks your heart to see him like this. He gave up on his life. Your Wonwoo, who was the optimistic being, the thoughtful and caring Wonwoo, let himself be eaten alive by guilt.

“Baby, please don’t cry… please stop blaming yourself…” you plead, only for it to fall on deaf ears.

You didn’t leave him after that too, continued to stay by him even after he went home. Wonwoo locked himself in your bedroom as soon as he reached home, reaching for the last hoodie you wore and hug it close to his chest as he tried to fall asleep. He let his parents take your son back to Changwon, didn’t promise them he’d come visit, won’t say he’ll be okay by himself. Just let them leave, without a word.

Wonwoo didn’t eat, for like 2 months, only surviving with water. He didn’t touch the food Mingyu cooked for him even after the guy practically moved in with him uninvited to care for him. Joshua came by too, every two days two check in on him, buying groceries for him every weekend and even went to Changwon to visit his nephew. But Wonwoo still didn’t budge from his bed. He didn’t wash nor clean himself. Didn’t go to work either, luckily Seungcheol understood and let him on unpaid leave for a year. But he silently paid for his commitments and gave money for his son’s needs to his parents in Changwon. They silently agreed among their group of friends to support Wonwoo with everything he would need until he can stand on his feet again, no matter how long it would take.

Your husband let himself suffer, torturing himself by not taking the nutrients his body needs. But he didn’t try to inflict injury upon himself either, only letting life fades away just like that. It wasn’t a good thing, but you’re glad that he didn’t try to take away his life drastically.

In the third month, Soonyoung forces a piece of kimbap into his mouth, begging him to eat, pleading and crying on his knees because he could’t bare to see his best friend like a zombie anymore.

“Wonjunnie misses his appa, Wonwoo-yah. Please come back” he sobbed, wrapping his arms around his friend’s thin shoulders. Wonwoo let his tears fall yet again, but he’s too tired to say anything. He couldn’t bring himself to.

It wasn’t until a year, that he’s able to walk out of the house again. But not without help, of course. Mingyu would help him walk, while Soonyoung drives him around. He visited your resting place for the first time, sitting next to your mom’s. It was filled with photos of you, during youth, wedding photo, pregnancy photo and everything memorial about you. He choked up again, telling you how he misses you so much.

Soonyoung then drove them back to his parents home, to reconnect with his son. It brought tears to his eyes yet again, to be reminded of how much the boy resembles his mother. His eyes, nose and cheeks. The way he talks, his way of expressing himself, all of it reminds Wonwoo of you.

“I’m sorry, my Wonjun. I don’t have any strength to take care of you right now. I can’t be a good father for you in my state right now. I don’t want to hurt you. I promise I'll come for you as soon as I’m ready. Please know that I love you very very very much, my son. I’m so sorry, my Wonjun” he sobbed, hugging his son’s tiny body in his weak arms. The boy pulled away to stare into his eyes, his tiny hand reaching up to wipe the tears away from his father’s eyes.

“I’ll pray that mama will take away all of your pain, papa. Please don’t cry” he pouted, eyes beginning to water too. Wonwoo pulled his son into his embrace again, tighter this time, crying his heart out. The boy doesn’t have to know that his mother had cried in her last moments. He also doesn’t have to know that his mother might have hated his father.

“Your time is almost up, Y/n. You have to leave” a voice called out. You turned around from staring at Wonwoo to lock eyes with the person behind you. Rather than a person, he’s a deity.

“How can I leave when he’s still like that?”

“Your five years are almost up. You have to go”

“Tell me how to reach him first. I can’t leave him like this. He’s blaming himself. He thought that I hated him!” you argued.

“There’s nothing I can do. He won’t let anyone help him. He has no hope anymore in him”

“Then give him hope, Jeonghan! You’re a deity! For fucks sake!” you screamed, irritated at the long haired man. You were more desperate than irritated actually. You have been trying to connect with Wonwoo, get into his subconsciousness for almost five years to free him of his guilt. But he won’t let you in. he had lost all hope in him. Wonwoo is broken.

And your time is running out. If you don’t leave until your five years are up, you’ll be mindless evil spirit. Bounded to this world forever, and harming people. You might even harm your beloved ones. You'd hate that.

“What hope should I give? You knew nothing worked for him” Jeonghan sighed.

“Anything! A new woman? So that he forgets me” you gritted, frustrated at yourself. Jeonghan eyed you.

“Would you actually want that?”

“I’d do anything to save him” you exhaled. You knew it wouldn’t work. Jeonghan tried it before. Introducing someone new to Wonwoo but it only ended up offending him and Joshua. They thought he was inconsiderate of them and didn’t respect the bond they have with you. But you can’t hover around Wonjun either because he’s a child and still so vulnerable to attacks. You need someone to coax Wonwoo to open up his heart, which he locked away for the longest time, so you could slip inside and let him know how you actually feel.

To your relief, that person was Joshua, your brother, your ever saviour. He had cried after a long time, begging your husband to talk to him, to them, because they can’t see him like that anymore.

Maybe it was Jeonghan who told him about the dire situation you are in now, or maybe it was his instinct because Joshua has always been observant of you. You have been hovering over him long enough for him to catch up on supernatural feels. He wasn’t the one to believe that sorts of things, but if it was a chance to save his brother, to pull Wonwoo back to himself, he was willing to do everything that it takes.

Finally, after years of trying, you slipped into Wonwoo’s subconsciousness. You saw him sitting in the dark corner alone, and lonely.

“Wonwoo, baby?” you called out. His head whipped to your direction immediately upon hearin the voice he missed the most.

“Y/n” he broke down, running into your arms and you gladly receives him, kissing his face that you missed dearly. You kissed him on his hair as he cried his heart out, telling you how much he misses you. That he wished he'd died with you too. You let him weep for who knows how long, until he can breathe properly again.

“I love you so, so, so much Wonwoo my love. There isn’t a moment of time that I didn’t. Please don’t be in pain anymore. Please live happily with our Wonjunnie. And please keep me in your memory always. I’ll always be here for you. I love you. I love you so much, my love” you say, staring into his glassy eyes.

You knew you can’t stay there for long, you’re not a deity. Wonwoo is bound to wake up again. And you wouldn’t want anything more than that. You’ve said what you needed to. You saw that the frowns on his brows has faded a bit from your assurance. The dark, and gloomy place has begin to fill with colours. The chains of his heart has been broken and the guilt he felt is slowly vanishing. Your job is done and you need to go. With a deep breath, you let Wonwoo go, staring at his handsome face as you backed away– towards Jeonghan who was waiting for you.

“I love you, Jeon Wonwoo” you say one last time before vanishing.

Wonwoo’s eyes shot open, seeing he's passed out at Joshua's couch as usual. The windows are open a bit to let the cool air in. And for the first time in a while, he can breathe properly. The heavy feelings confining his chest have dissipated and he believed that it's your doing.

"I love you, Y/n. Thank you for staying with me"

And that night, Wonwoo realized that you might not be there with him physically, but you'll always be there in his heart and mind.

-Fin-

#seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #wonwoo #wonwoo angst #svt angst

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mirkwoodmunson · 1 year

Note

Would you pretty please turn this picture into an Eddie munson fanfiction? I've been searching the Internet and have yet to find anything like this. If you not comfortable, I totally understand!!

me: writing break!

mailbox: 🫶

me: …..umm ANYWAY *frantic typing*

I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH U HAVE NO IDEA

tw: cursing, angst, panic/anxiety attack, dissociation, night terrors, depressed/anxious reader, post-v2 (fixit)

it takes a long time for your nights to go back to a state of semi-normalcy. a long time of regaining the ability to lay in bed comfortable and calm and eager for sleep, a long time of healing and bandages and pained tears, a long time of struggling for the smallest crumbs of comfort. but you had each other, and that made it easier of course — but it was still an uphill battle for those first few months. there was a lot of heartache, a lot of tears and strain, but far be it from eddie and you to let the darkness come out on top. you were both fighters, and when the battle got too rough for one of you, the other always managed to gather enough strength to keep the both of you pushing, moving forward. persevering.

when the darkness got the better of you, eddie was there to blind it with his brilliance.

nights… you’d come to dread them. during the day the sun could blot out your thoughts, soothe worries with its warmth, and you had things to do and places to go and people to see; the day didn’t give you the time to worry. but when night fell, when it was just you and eddie and the quiet — not that you didn’t enjoy those things, but with the night and the quiet, and the memories you and eddie now shared… nights were still sometimes difficult.

the thing is, eddie doesn’t remember that night. he doesn’t remember anything after the bats.

but you do.

you remember, and you’ve had to watch it again, and again — at first it was every time you tried to sleep, then just when you slept at night, but always sleeping during the day became a problem. then after a while, after nights started to feel somewhat tolerable, it was every other night. every few nights. you were down to once every few weeks now, but even then, the idea of just trying to get some rest had become so stressful it was just a frustrating cycle of exhaustion at this point.

and how could you bother eddie with this? he knew, but you didn’t complain beyond the initial waking up from the dreams. sure he didn’t remember that night, but he still remembered facing the bats. he still had to go through the stint in the hospital, recovery at home. you were both dealing with your individual traumas. he always assured you you were allowed to feel it too, you didn’t need to act tough around him — you’d become so quiet. so tired. he would always tell you the way through was together, that he had your back. but you still felt like it would burden him. far be it from you to be a burden.

really though, there’s only so many times you can say you’re okay when you’re not before it becomes too much to handle alone.

tonight it takes you by surprise. tonight you fall asleep in eddie’s arms, but you wake up and, you’re there. you’re in the wasteland that is the upside down and you’re running but you can’t run fast enough and there’s not enough air in your lungs. the red flashes are too bright, too disorienting, you can just barely make out the swarm.

when they suddenly drop from the air, you see the body they surround and you drop too. it’s too much, too heavy, too real — the little air you have rips from your lungs and you crawl to him, you know you can save him if you just go fast enough but you can’t move any faster, no matter how hard you scream you can’t get to him any quicker, like you’re pulling yourself through drying concrete. you hear dustin crying.

you reach, so hard your muscles pull and you cry, and you grab his vest and drag yourselves together, gripping him tight light you’re about to be pulled away from him again. you try and talk him awake but your lips move slow too, it’s muffled in your ears like you’re underwater, clogged and distant. if you’re loud enough, cry hard enough, scream loud enough, maybe he’ll wake up. your foreheads are pressed together as you beg for him to wake the fuck up —

“please wake up please wake up please wake up,” his eyes snap open and he holds your face, talking to you quickly, quietly, murmuring a pleading song.

you feel like you’re being pulled up through water.

you wheeze deep and suddenly breach the surface, gasping wildly into a dark space, but that voice remains and keeps guiding you from the murky depths; it’s soft, always soft — calling to you with a tender earnestness.

“i’m here. i’m here — you’re safe; you’re awake.”

you start to wail, and eddie leans over to turn on the lamp before pulling you into his lap, into his arms, careful but quick. he tries not to waver, not to show how startled he is — but he can’t help the tremble in the way that he holds you, the break in his voice.

“it’s okay, y/n it’s okay — i promise. you’re not there. you’re home. i’m here.”

“i-i-i — fine — i’m fine — i’m fine,” it almost hurts to speak, takes effort between the deep breaths and hiccups and sobs. eddie leans you away a bit, pushes damp hair from your cheeks and cups them in warm calloused hands that are firm but loving, urging you to look at him.

through the tears you see his eyes are wide but tired, concerned and sad and alarmed, when you try to look away he holds you still, shaking his head firmly.

“no. no sweetheart you’re not okay.”

he looks at you a moment longer before pulling you back into him as you shudder, quaking with the force of it, gripping his shirt tight to ground yourself as you weep into his shoulder.

eddie shushes you softly, holds you so tight his arms tremble and hides his face in your hair.

“i’m here. you’re safe. i’ve got you. i promise.”

“wh-what about you??”

“i’m safe too, baby. we’re safe. we’re home.”

one of his hands slides around one of yours, soothes it open to release his shirt and then guides it down to the bedsheets.

“feel our bed? the sheets?”

he takes your quieting cries as a ‘yes,’ and smiles small, kissing your temple. you’re starting to focus on him, on your surroundings.

“feel my shirt? an’ my arms?”

you nod, running your thumb over the faded black fabric held tight in your fist, full of holes and tears. you’d got it for eddie when he took you to see judas priest, the metal conqueror tour. you guys hadn’t started dating yet. some dude spilt beer on you and shouted at you for the audacity, eddie had punched him in the face, and then you’d started dating.

“hey! there’s a smile!” eddie peers down at you with a smile of his own, and you sniffle but hold it for him through the stubborn tears. “there you go. where’d that come from?”

“you,” you respond simply, tearfully.

eddie laughs softly and pulls you in again, rocking you in his arms, muttering gentle affirmations.

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lovergirlanna · 3 months

Text

𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 | C.D

Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Self-harm, Body dysmorphia, Reader isolating herself from others, hurt to comfort.

Words: 2.0k quite rushed but had to write this for my sweetheart Cedric.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Waking up felt like a chore now nothing was new anymore. It was currently early in the morning, and you were lying in your bed once again, there didn’t seem to be any motivation to do anything nowadays. Turning over onto your side eyes heavy, laced with tears once more from the previous night, tears soon turning into a pathetic sob. Looking over at your arms littered with scars old and new hiding them under the white sheets of the sanctuary known as your bed. You felt selfish maybe it was just winter depression? Or was this more than that? Surely you shouldn’t be so selfish when others may be going through more than you surely it’s just a coincidence you must be feeling like this. It shall pass within due cores, right? Oh, but how you were wrong you’d been feeling like this since the start of the new school year and had not mentioned anything to anyone about how you were feeling or what you were going through not even Cedric.

Pushing everything aside for a while you forced yourself out of bed. You had to get ready for school it just felt like a cycle, what was the point? For a brief moment you thought about your friends would they care if you just stopped? Stopped caring, stopped showing up to lessons, stopped interacting with them? You knew it wasn’t their fault for your miserable lifestyle nor should they have any reason to suspect anything because in their eyes you are happy, joyful, and eager to learn right? You began crying once more. You didn’t deserve your friends, did you? You were being selfish once again. You also didn’t deserve a perfect boyfriend. Cedric Diggory Seeker for the Hufflepuff quidditch team. He was a ray of sunshine he was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He was popular, funny, kind, and caring what did he see in you?

You just needed to get through this last day of school. It was Friday and then you could relax. By ‘relax’ was meant shutting yourself away once again away from everyone away from your friends, away from Cedric. You soon made yourself over to your dresser looking at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t bear looking at your body it was one of your biggest insecurities you knew that. It got you thinking again what did Cedric see in you? Wrapping your arms around your stomach you chocked out another sob resting your forehead against the cool reflective glass.

You managed to get your uniform on finally. Brushing out your hair with your hair brush at least trying to look presentable for what was ahead of you today. “Just have to get through today, that’s all.” You whispered to yourself. You started doing your makeup next you couldn’t go out without putting it on you felt insecure without it almost like you were hiding a part of yourself or were you just trying to cover something up? Cover up the sadness and guilt you felt. Frowning at yourself once again in the mirror almost like it was the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

Quickly you gathered your books and other necessities into your bag leaving your dorm and heading out of your house dormitories. Walking through the halls of Hogwarts wasn’t that bad most people were nice to you showing you a smile or even waving at you. Lost in your thoughts as you joined the crowd of other students who were heading to the hall for breakfast. Suddenly you felt two arms wrap around your frame making you jolt back slightly, stopping you from walking. "Morning sweetheart." A groggy masculine voice spoke to you as the figure rested himself against your figure. It was none other than your boyfriend, Cedric Diggory. He was your ray of hope, a ray of light guiding you through your darkest times without him being aware of what dark times you may be going through he's always there to help you, you knew that. "Morning sleepyhead." You chuckled softly raising your hand to ruffle his hair, gazing up at him. "I've missed you." He chirped a soft pout on his lips. "I got busy with quidditch practice, feels like I haven't seen you in forever." As Cedric began to continue talking about his improvements on quidditch you couldn't help but recall the moments of pain without him. You did truly love him but you felt like he could do so much better than dating someone like yourself. His arms remained wrapped around you as he leaned forward to place a kiss on your cheek. "Hey," he said raising his eyebrow at you "is there something on your mind?" Cedric's eyes softened as he looked at you. Merlin how you wish you could tell him, tell him everything, tell him all your struggles but you just shook your head a thin smile on your lips. "No, no I'm fine Cedric" You didn't want to burden your ray of light, no. Not like this. "You can talk to me about anything, you know?" He said, however, he did not push further and just gave you a look of confusion.

As you both continued to walk to the great hall you chatted amongst yourselves Cedric going on about quidditch practice and how he’s excited about their next official match and so on but you couldn’t help but drift off thinking about the words he said before this conversation. ‘You can talk to me about anything’ kept ringing through your mind. You didn’t want to burden him with your worries. You didn’t want to burden him with responsibilities that he doesn’t need to know about you’ll push past them eventually right? You didn’t even know where to start would he be disappointed? Would he view you differently if you told him the truth? If you told him about your troubles with self-harm if you told him how you viewed yourself would it change your whole relationship? You've seen the other girls at Hogwarts they were prettier than you. They were confident, outgoing, and loving you really couldn’t compare yourself to them.

As you both sat down you were still lost in your thoughts you did not touch any of the food presented in front of you. “Darling?” A voice spoke out. It was Cedric looking at you worryingly reaching out his hand to intertwine with yours. “You seem lost. You haven’t touched any of your food, should I be worried?” He said you blinked shaking your head just like before. “I was just thinking about our exams coming up.” You said. Another excuse, you hated this - lying to him but it was for the best wasn’t it? Cedric nodded still giving you a worrisome look before turning away from you to talk to one of his friends. He looked so happy with his friends honestly you just felt like a waste of space in this situation, you were worrying him - you hated it so much. You eventually began to eat lost in your thoughts whilst doing so.

As the end of the day finally rolled around you were relieved. Finally, you’ve made it but you truly couldn’t stop thinking about what Cedric had said. You truly love him it was messing with your head you could feel tears well up in your eyes again. Tears falling like an overflowing stream this burden you had been carrying had finally made you realise you couldn’t handle this alone. His words were futile devices against the burden you were carrying solemnly. You also realised isolating yourself was for the worse or was it a positive factor? You couldn’t tell what was right or wrong anymore. You needed to be by yourself you had to be by yourself you had to bottle it up you couldn’t allow anyone to see you like this as you hurried to your dorm as quickly as you could. However, from afar someone was watching you, watching you in your saddened mess none other than Cedric. He knew something was wrong he was planning to meet you at the end of your last class to try and talk to you about how you were feeling he couldn’t help but notice at breakfast how you seemed off. He needed to speak to you. He knew where you’d be, you’d be in your dorm so he decided to follow you to help you in any way he could he was your boyfriend after all. He felt like it was his duty to make sure you were happy, safe, and secure.

Slamming your door shut you collapsed onto the wooden floor of your dorm sobbing dramatically. What a burden you were you hated it. You hated all of this why did you have to be so pathetic? “I can’t take it anymore..” you choked out in between your sobs taking off your robes and revealing your scars once more looking over to your mirror, your mascara smudged from your pathetic sobbing. You couldn’t signify if this was all a nightmare or not. Why? Why did you have to go through this alone? Shakily you stood up standing in front of your mirror as you tried to wipe the smudged mascara away to no avail it didn't work, only creating more of a mess. You seemed so unimpressed looking at yourself in the mirror your reflection staring back at you. The girl in the mirror couldn’t even look back at herself without being disgusting.

Suddenly a knock at your door makes you jump slightly snapping you clean out of your thoughts. “sweetheart? Are you in there? It’s only me” the voice rang in and out of your ears. You knew exactly who it was it was, it was Cedric. "You seem to be having a rough day" he spoke up again. "Do you wish to talk about it?" Quickly you tried wiping your eyes clean removing any of the remaining mascara staining your cheeks and areas under your eyes as you slowly turned the knob of your door to open it. You had forgotten, hadn’t you? You weren’t covering your arms, how could you forget? As soon as you opened the door you were greeted with a warm smile, his signature inviting smile however there was concern in his expression his eyes widening as he saw your arms and the way your face was delicately stained with mascara and dried tears. Why hadn’t he noticed the signs sooner? He gulped guilt over washing him as he stepped into your room closing the door behind him. “You said you were fine, what’s going on darling?” His voice broke, he was hurt, hurt that he wasn’t there for you when you needed him. You followed his gaze down to your arms, how could you be so stupid? Tears began welling up in your eyes once more as you suddenly gripped onto his school jumper sobbing into his chest. You two stood there embracing each other. Cedric's arms were securely wrapped around your shoulders not letting go. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me." Your boyfriend whispered raising his hand to try and wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks your grip only tightening on his jumper.

You and Cedric had now settled on your bed his hand gently holding your shoulder. You had finally told Cedric everything, you had told him how you felt about your body - you had also told him about how you’ve been feeling. "You're not alone, I promise I'll never be so blind as to not notice when you start struggling again." "I'm sorry." you mustered to say, you're gaze shifting to the side, soon enough Cedric lifted his hand from your shoulder placing it on your cheek. "look at me" He spoke softly, comforting you with his soft tone, as you did finally look at him he opened his mouth to speak. "none of this is your fault. I promise whenever you need me I'll always be here for you, forever."

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eddiesdaydream · 11 months

Text

you make loving fun | eddie munson

eddie munson x gn reader

apparently time does not heal all wounds. at least eddie can rely on his little family to be his saving grace.

1.1k words

slight angst to fluff, established relationship, slightly older!eddie, dad!eddie, parent!reader

inspired by you make loving fun by fleetwood mac

tw - brief mentions of familial abuse, death of a parent, blood, mental illness (depression, ptsd)

a/n - this is my first time posting any of my writing online so im super nervous but i love eddie sm and have so many ideas for him so i hope at least somebody enjoys this lmao :) the events of season 4 are canon in this except eddie lived aaand there's no use of y/n or pronouns used (besides you/your, etc lol) and no physical descriptors either ! <3

When Eddie wakes, it’s with a start, his sleep-warmed body jolting in his bed. His chest heaves with adrenaline and his mind is swimming, fuzzy with sleep and the remnants of his dream, another replay of the memories he thought he’d suppressed long ago. It’s like a reel on a constant loop, playing behind his eyelids whenever he blinks, so haunting he has to sit up, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, as if that should erase his past and all the trauma he’s accumulated over the course of his life. He has the urge to cry, guttural, heaving sobs so heavy they wrack his chest but he can’t- he won’t. Man up, Eddie, a voice that sounds suspiciously like his father gripes in the back of his mind. I didn’t raise you to be a pussy.

Eddie remembers those same words circling his brain whenever his father would drink himself violent and he’d be forced to wedge himself, trembling, into the back of his closet, when he watched his mother’s casket get lowered into the ground before he’d even hit double digits, when he was bleeding out on the cold, hard ground in an alternate dimension, gazing up into the watercolour eyes of a boy he’d sworn to protect and wondering what use those words were to him if he was six foot under himself. Man up, Eddie. I didn’t raise you to be a pussy.

Those memories hang heavy over him like an unwavering fog, some days too thick for him to even get out of bed. Those are his worst days, when he’s too grief-stricken to move, mourning the loss of the child he never got to be, the safe refuge of his uncle’s old trailer to which he can no longer return, and a Hawkins that, while so often a cruel, unforgiving mistress, provided a home for him, now cracked through the heart and uninhabitable for the likes of one Edward Munson.

But then there’s you. You - a beacon of warm, golden light in the shadow realm of his tumultuous mind, the sunshine to his storm cloud. You cut through the fog and Eddie’s okay again, like everything really was just a bad dream.

And you don’t even have to try.

The timid lull of your singing voice drifting through the crack in your bedroom door is enough to even Eddie’s trochaic heart and chase away the fog. He’s okay. He’s safe.

“I never did believe in miracles,” you croon, your tentative voice overpowered by Christine McVie’s pipes crackling through the dusty speakers of the janky radio you keep in the kitchen. But there nonetheless. “But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try.”

Any and all thoughts of his father, his mother, and the horrors that lurk beneath the surface of the town he once called his home are pushed to the back of Eddie’s subconscious and he lets himself relax. He stretches out onto your side of the bed, cold, so he knows you got up some time ago. Pools of watery morning sunlight lave over his bare torso, gently caressing his rippling scars in the same fashion that you do before you both succumb to the heavy blanket of slumber, massaging his healing ointment in for him with a care and attentiveness that he’d never really been privy to until he met you.

Your loud, boisterous laughter ricocheting off of the apartment walls is enough to pull Eddie out of bed and have him make a beeline for you. It’s as if he’s the Earth and you’re his sun, keeping him in your orbit.

And if you’re his sun, your son is his moon, having changed the tides of Eddie’s life forever.

When Eddie enters the kitchen, he’s met with a sight that, while not unfamiliar, still feels foreign to him, as if he can’t quite believe that this is his life now. To some degree, he can’t. When he was younger, and more cynical, Eddie rejected the typical white picket fence pipedream so often sold to the nation’s youth. He didn’t want that for himself or anyone involved, for fear of becoming a mirror image of his father.

But alas, here he is. Living in an apartment of his own with the love of his life and his child. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

His mother’s ring that once sat heavy on his own ring finger now envelopes yours. And he is not his father. He is not his father.

He watches from the doorway as you dance around the small kitchen with your toddler perched on your hip, your very own babbling back-up singer. There goes his trochaic heart again, though not out of fear this time, but rather, as a result of watching the two greatest loves of his life happy and at peace. He is not his father.

“Dadadadada!” His son babbles enthusiastically, clapping as he catches sight of his father. You glance over then, a bright, sunny smile gracing your beautiful face. Your warmth greets Eddie like one might an old friend, with familiarity, yet he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way you make him feel. Happy. Fulfilled. Whole.

“Hey, buddy,” he coos at his baby, who leans towards him, tiny arms outstretched. You saunter over to Eddie so he can greet the baby as he does every lazy morning, holding him close to his chest and pressing a kiss into his dark curls. You’re still humming Fleetwood Mac under your breath as you join the cuddle, arms snaking around Eddie’s back and face disappearing into the warm crook of his neck. The flutter of your eyelashes against his skin is grounding.

“Morning, my love,” you mumble. “We were just making some breakfast.”

Eddie hums, squeezing you with his free arm, his two loves tight in his embrace where they belong. “Sounds good, baby.”

You pull away then, just a hair so you can look him in the face, still puffy from sleep, but beautiful nonetheless. There’s a hint of something in his big brown eyes, something like relief that has you furrowing your brows in a quizzical manner, “everything okay, honey?”

Eddie nods immediately, and the grin that follows is blinding, really. Everything’s okay. He’s okay. When he’s with you and the baby, his little family, how could he not be?

“Perfect, baby,”

You nod, pressing a chaste kiss to each of your boys’ cheeks, before turning back to the stove to resume breakfast. The radio is playing something else now, some bubblegum pop song Eddie doesn’t recognise, but you’re still on Fleetwood Mac, using your spatula as a makeshift microphone to serenade your husband and son.

“You, you make loving fun…”

#eds <3 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #angst #fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x reader fluff #evie writes

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cheegu3 · 6 days

Note

Heloo may I request a enhypen reaction when y/n killed themselves and left a note saying "this is all your fault"

Sorry if this makes you uncomfy

oh not at all, I was only on the fence about writing this bc idk if talking about this topic is allowed on tumblr, but I hope u didn’t feel a lot of anxiety when sending in this ask 😭 it is a little short so sorry abt that :c some of the notes are a bit different too to switch it up!

tw / trigger warning: yandere, dark themes, depression, suicide, self-harm, sad asf, cursing, violence, blood, suicide-note, vomiting, gun

pls do not read if this triggers or offends you or if you're struggling !!

Yandere!Enhypen - reaction to you unaliving yourself

Jungwon

He didn't know how to react when he found you dead. No tears fell down his face as he looked for a pulse, clutching your cold hand in his.

When he spotted a note lying a few meters away, a heavy sigh left his lips and he gave you a pained look.

' This is all because of you. If only you'd treated me like a normal boyfriend would, maybe we could've been soulmates. I hope you feel pain for the rest of your life. '

The more Jungwon stared at the note, blaming him for all of your pain and problems; the more he felt like he had to fight to hold back the tears that were itching to fall.

At the same time, he found a strange anger bubbling inside of him. Not only did you - the love of his life, leave him in this way but you had to wish him pain in your last breath too?

He became blinded by anger. The hand that was holding the note clenched and the paper crumbled under it.

He will try to stay alive just to spite you. Trying his best to move on and get happy, maybe fall in love again and find a family just so he could get his revenge; as you watched from above and realized you meant nothing to him.

But Jungwon never got over you, not really.

Heeseung

He got angry immediately, cussing you out and almost getting the urge to hit you. Instead, he took his anger out on a mirror and felt some sense of relief when he started to bleed.

He blamed himself of course. He had been wrong about how you were feeling, even though he often prided himself on having been able to read you like an open book.

He didn't notice your spark slowly dying out; the more he got angry the more he got jealous, and then the more you were punished for the smallest things.

It got to a point where you couldn't even live in the moment and enjoy the short times when he was a sweet boyfriend again, because you were always scared of what would tick him off a few seconds later.

' I'm sorry, Hee. I was so tired of fighting. I love you,

y/n. '

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He could only manage to hold them back for a few seconds before he doubled over and sobbed loudly.

The room filled with loud wails of pain that would even make angels cry. Anyone that heard it would know just how much he loved you.

Heeseung clutched his chest right where his aching heart felt like it was being ripped out of him. '' I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby, '' he kept whispering until he was tired of crying for hours and it turned into shaky murmurs.

He fell asleep, hoping it would be eternal, with your body in his arms; dried tears on his cheeks being replaced by new ones, as even in his sleep he couldn't escape seeing his lover.

Jay

It was the worst phone call he had ever received. He didn't know how to react after it ended, only staring blankly into the distance as his thoughts went crazy.

He needed to see you with his own eyes to believe it so he rushed home. His stomach sank when he spotted the ambulance. Quickly he pushed through the people to get to you.

But when he reached you and saw your lifeless body on the stretcher, he didn't know what to do yet again. A stupid voice inside him told him he should keep his cool in front of all the spectators, even while the love of his life lay dead in front of him.

Did he want to cry, scream, or hold you?

He lowered his eyes to get the image of you like that out of his head. Still in shock, he went inside, locked the doors, and shut the windows' blinds.

He stayed like that for days; barely eating, seeing the sun, or getting out of bed. No matter how bad his depression got and how the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to get further and further away, he still refused to cry.

There was a reason. Your note.

He had seen it while cleaning his house that day he got home. Not wanting to let his thoughts get to him, he started sterilizing and cleaning the whole house. When he then got to the bedroom, a small green note poked out underneath the bed.

He crouched and was about to throw it away until he turned it over and read the first and only line.

' this is all your fault '

And after that, he'd never be the same man again. Most days he wondered if he was even human anymore, he didn't feel anything.

Jake

'' Y/n! I'm home. ''

Jake's face scrunched up as he pouted when you didn't come running to him like usual. Something felt wrong, a bad feeling brewed in his stomach, growing in size the more he moved around in his apartment.

He went further in, peeking around the corners but not calling out for you anymore. It felt better to explain the bad feeling by thinking you were doing something you weren't supposed to, rather than you being hurt; so he moved quietly so he could catch you in the act.

Inside the office, you were nowhere to be found. He guessed you had snuck in there to write to your loved ones or maybe snoop through his stuff. Defeatedly he sighed and moved on, eyes getting caught by the door to the bedroom being slightly open.

Jake stopped in his step and turned back.

'' Y/n? Are you in there? Come out please, I just want to talk, '' he tried, his voice coming out a lot more whiny and desperate than he'd planned.

But he got no response except for silence. His worry grew. One deep breath later he pushed the door open before he could change his mind.

It slowly creaked open, revealing the room little by little. He fell to his knees and gasped.

You were lying in a pool of blood. At first, he felt a surge of anger - who could've done this to you? Then, his attention drifted to the small folded note next to you, and his heart sank.

'' No, please don't say...'' he trailed off, hurrying to unwrap the paper with so much panic that he almost ripped it.

' I wanted to meet my friend one last time, that's all I asked for, but like always it was about what you wanted. We both know that this was all your fault. '

Overcome with despair and grief it wouldn't take long for Jake to join you. He couldn't stand being apart, and he'd find you wherever you were, even in death.

Sunghoon

He felt very angry at you, not himself. Yes, he had dared you to do it while the two of you were in the middle of a screaming match but he hadn't expected you to actually pick up a gun.

The image of you staring at him, tears in your eyes, and that look on your face, which was the last he'd see of you, would forever be etched in his mind.

He couldn't sleep at night. It was like it was burned into the back of his eyes too.

Once your body fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes widened and his lips parted. He knew you were gone without even having to check your pulse.

'' Do it, '' those were his last words to the one person he loved.

He felt sick suddenly, rushing to the bathroom to throw up everything and then some more.

In that bathroom he stayed for hours, just staring blankly at the tiles on the wall, not saying a word or moving an inch. After the sun started setting outside and the light caught his eyes, he finally got up and went to where he had last left you.

You hadn't moved. Sunghoon crouched down next to you and started digging in your pockets for your phone. Something sharp brushed against his palm.

He took it out and saw that it was a note. Unraveling it, he discovered it was a suicide note you must've written a long time ago. Had you always had it on you? Just in case.

' I hate you '

He clenched his fist around the paper, it broke. '' Weak, '' he whispered under his breath and got up.

It was a coping mechanism to place all the anger on you. God knows what he would've done if he started letting that transfer to himself. But, even the anger couldn't stop him from missing you - every single day.

Sunoo

He would blame himself immensely, not having room to be mad at you at all. All that he felt for you was pity and empathy. He tried putting himself in your shoes for the first time and it was a heartbreak he'd never experienced before.

He went to school that day, so excited to see you, only to feel horror as he pushed through the crowd that had formed curiously and saw your body there.

It felt like slow-motion when the wind made you turn and you made eye contact with him. Whispers spread like wildfire all around him, surrounding him completely.

Sunoo felt confused and scared, his eyes darted around anxiously and he tried slipping out. Someone pushed him back.

'' You did this! ''

His head snapped up. A girl, your friend, was standing on the table overlooking the whole classroom. Her eyes were red from crying and in her hand, she was holding something white.

' I'm sorry to do this here, but it's because of my boyfriend, he's controlling and an obsessive, crazy person. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of him. I'm sorry, I love you '

His world fell apart in an instant. He had no idea you'd been feeling like that, why didn't you tell him? He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he came to a realization - you did, and he didn't listen.

He was finally allowed to push through the crowd and run away from the school which he'd never again return to. Tears streamed down his face the whole way home, and they didn't stop even as he reached it.

In his mind, all the ' what if-s ' played. What if he fixed himself and was less obsessive, would you have stayed then? What if he was less jealous, would you have loved him back? What if...what if.

Ni-ki

He tried distracting his mind by both rationalizing it to soften the blow, saying '' we probably weren't made for each other anyway '', and trying to go on dates with other girls.

However, every time he did so, he'd zone out and wish that it was you sitting across from him instead. He started daydreaming which brought a smile to his face until it dropped almost as suddenly as it had come when he heard her voice and realized it wasn't you.

They could never be you.

Suddenly he was angry at them, cursing and telling them to leave him alone and to never text him again.

Deep down he knew he'd never love anyone like you again, and you were actually meant for him; but he hated admitting it and to spare himself from more pain, might never admit it.

That was the thing, you were meant for him. Not anymore; you didn't exist anymore, because of him. He knew that now that his soulmate was gone forever, his bleak days would never be lit up by you again.

Just thinking of that smile, the only one that managed to get through his tough and cold exterior, made him feel like crying or punching something.

He then thought of the note, which he often did, and your body at the morgue because he hadn't come home quick enough to see you, and for that he was grateful; seeing you like that would've driven him to the edge.

The note, the one that read, ' I'm sorry, Riki. I tried, I really did. I love you, -y/n '

#yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #enha x reader

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dylansslutt · 8 months

Text

back to me/ r.c

authors note: hiii my lovelies, how have y’all been?? :)) i have been super busy and honestly my mindspace for awhile was just not there lol, so i took my break. slowly have i realized on here y’all have gone through a following of my transition as a person and a writer. for i write from experience and truth even though everythings fiction...

anywhore my new thing is star wars atm totally in awe with everything so this may or may not caught some ideas up in it....

summary// you were dating rafe, the boy chosen to fall

warnings// abuse, mention of murder, rafe lol also this is toxic

you were walking down the side of the road, the sadness filled within your heart. everything was lost, rafe was out of control. after dating for a year you’d think you know a person.

till you found out the truth.

it first started with the drug abuse. watching his character slowly change into someone you barely knew; especially the fights between his family. yet when sarah and john b went missing at sea, things changed with everyone.

he was accused of murder, and you so blindly trusted him. thinking not rafe... not possible. he would do a lot but murder?

you were hung up with rafe through it all, sometimes he did feel sad. most of the time he acted like she didn’t exist or that he cared, until she and john b came back.

that’s when everything slowly began to change for the worse. he said he was stepping up, going to be a bigger man. some rant about his family status being more serious. sarah gets back and things slowly start to be revealed.

after one night, you escaped out the room leaving behind a passed out rafe. sarah met you face to face, before she pulls you in her room. her desperate plea to her case; you finally opening up about your side of things.

now supposedly rafe shot sarah, is in on stealing the gold and even has gone off the fucking walls. this led you into a three day depression room sinkhole.

until now where you are walking down the streets, tears streaming down your cheeks. this was a walk to clear your mind, after all you have been hiding from. stupid idea. the sun set so now it was street lights leading your way.

a car passes by and you ignore it, wiping your tears. not paying attention your foot slips, body slipping forward. the feeling of your ankle twist makes your hiss, as your hands and knees were scraped up.

“fuckin’ great.” you mumble to yourself, tired of this day. a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you push yourself up, noticing the blood along your knee. your back pocket starts vibrating.

pulling out your phone, trying to avoid the harsh feeling along your palm. rafe cameron’s caller id appears across the screen. hesitating as you bite your lip, you wanted to hit the red button. you wanted to decline it.

“hello?” your voice wasn’t exactly happy but it wasn’t just with him. your knee was bleeding while only your left hand really held scrapes. your ankle was sore but you knew not broken. as you didn’t hear a response, you focus in hearing rafe’s tense breathing over the phone.

“where are you? what’s wrong?” his questions make you roll your eyes. “i am no where, and nothing i-i am fine.” you hate the way he knows you, even after all this shit. it hurt because you were still in love with someone who has headed down a path extremely dangerous.

he scoffs, “tell me where you are, i’ll come get you.” you shake your head even though he couldn’t see that. “no! i mean no rafe, not right now. i need, i need-”

his voice cuts me off, sounding desperate almost. “don’t do that shit to me y/n, don’t tell me you need space.”

your lips tremble, “rafe i don’t know what to do.” the confession was raw, pure, innocent.

you truly were defeated by your feelings and the fact of things. he went quiet for a moment before he lowers his voice. “let us talk, please?” he pauses for a moment.

“ let me come get you, i know you y/n. something has happened.” you almost wanted to laugh. “nothing has happened beside everything else that’s so obvious.” your voice cracks softly towards the end, making you want to curse yourself.

“y/n, tell me where you are.”

“i-” a defeated sigh escapes you, glancing around you notice a street sign. “i am on lotus street, i-i was walking and i tripped and fell.”

you swore you heard him mumble something, “okay. i’m on the way. call me if anything happens.”

you hang up, hobbling to sit along side the road. choosing some bricks to sit on. you didn’t even have a bag, but you see a nice big leaf on a tree nearby. getting up once more, heading over to it. you pull off a few leaves, the branch sways as you walk away.

sitting back down, you sniffle softly as you wipe the blood trailing down your leg. biting your lip as you wipe around your knee as well.

less than ten minutes, the familiar truck lights are seen coming down. you sit up straighter, lifting your hand up to block some of the light. he pulls up beside you before parking it on the side of the rode.

he gets out rushing around the vehicle. you stand up quickly, nose contorting in pain, forgetting about your ankle in the moment. he steps closer but your hand flies up instinctively. he stops in his tracks, eyes meeting yours with a wild look.

“y/n.”

you shake your head at him, “you’ve lied to me rafe!” everything has been building up and now seeing him.

“who told you that? sarah?” he tilts his head and you stare at him in pure awe. his reaction was just pure dumb and it angers you. “wh-what? it’s not about that rafe. you lied! you did things... you are changing.”

your eyes trail on how his shirt was damp and he had a bruise near his jaw. “those fuckin’ pogues are turning you against me! bet they’re telling you all sorts of lies, huh?”

“i don’t know who you are anymore rafe!” you wince as you step back.” th-the things you’ve done... the things you plan to do.” you sob out, and he takes in your appearance. how your fall was, how you were in pain. emotionally and physically.

“just get in the truck y/n. we can talk about this somewhere else.” he tries to persuade you, but your head shakes for a moment. without a beat your hand clutches your chest, as if it would give some relief. to the weight that felt like it was crushing you inside out. as you were sure your heart was breaking.

he wasn’t the person you knew anymore.

”oh my god, rafe. you almost killed your fuckin’ sister, you were accused of murdering pet-” he rushes forward pointing at you. his one hand wraps around your biceps, jerking you slightly.

“don’t you ever say that shit again.” his finger now digging in your cheek, makes you scared. shoving his chest, watching him stumble back surprised for a moment.

your chest heaves up and down, moving away from the bricks you were once sitting on. staring him fully on as tears blur your vision.

“you could come back!” your voice cracks as you plea with him. “you can come back, come back with me.” please choose this, please choose to do things different.

he shakes his head, “you know i can’t do that.”

your heart sinks, lips trembling. “why is that, rafe?” please don’t say it. you plead with yourself even though your stomach felt sick.

“we got the gold, i can’t- i gotta’ go with my dad!” he shakes and you stare at him in horror. the final realization hitting, everything made your mind swirl.

“rafe...” you look at him and tears stream down your face. you hated this. you hated him. you hated yourself. for not being able to help but want his embrace to comfort you in this.

“you can do right, we can do right. we can figure this all out okay?” you try to ease on him, but his eyes glare into yours.

“we could figure this all out, rafe. you can come back to me, before all this shit. be the old us? right?” he looks away from you, making your heart drop. “right rafe? you love me right? we can do right, give the gold back. get away from here!”

now his attention is back to you. “did sarah or the pogues put you up to this?” he almost laughs and you shake your head desperately. “no! rafe i love you!”

you step closer to him, slowly due to your ankle. “rafe, this is insane. it’s gone too far with barry before a-and this now?”

he shakes his head, “do you trust me y/n?” you wanted desperately to say yes. to forget everything, run away from the problems but you hesitated.

his eyes go cold, “let me take you back home?” he makes it a question but it was more of a demand. you felt defeated, stranded in a forest with no compass.

“wait.” you freeze hesitant of it all. coming more to your senses.

he stops at the sound of your voice, turning to face you. “people who get in your way...” you trail off almost hesitant to say it. “they don’t end up well.”

his head cocks to the side, “what do you mean by that y/n? you think i would hurt you?”

“you didn’t say you loved me back.” the truth made you step back from him. “i’m going to call someone else to get me, rafe.”

“i love you, y/n. don’t you see? the goal involves you, i’ll always protect you!” he steps closer and you shake your head. your throat hurt from keeping the tears at bay, but as he gets the look of realization. the tears slide down your cheek.

“i don’t think i can trust you anymore rafe. you are going down a path that i-i don’t think i can follow.” your hand trembles as he glowers at you. “y/n... don’t turn away from me too.”

your hands shakes as it comes up to your face for a moment, covering your mouth of the sob that escapes. the emotion in both your eyes was readable, from anyones point of view.

“i love you rafe... please.” the desperate plea from your lips. you looking stupid begging for an unchangeable man, too well change.

your phone lights up with sarahs name popping up, catching rafe’s attention. “liar!” he moves in a haste, snatching the phone. “no wait r-”

he tosses it off into the grass somewhere, before snatching you up. he shoves you against the truck, the truck was off. the street light was farther down and it was dark. you two were in the dark.

his hands wrap around your throat, your hands clawing at his hands. “r-afe.” you manage to choke out, as you start seeing spots. eyes rolling back he drops you backing up.

you start coughing heavily, as the air starts to fill your lungs again. “oh my god.” it barely registers as you grip your throat desperately, as if it could ease the pain. “y/n,y/n... i am so sorry.”

as you look back up at him, the view of the fading light barely shows his face. yet you made out the look on his. he didn’t look exactly sorry. he just didn’t look like the rafe you knew at all.

“yo-you just...” it hurt to speak, but what you didn’t notice was when you fell. you hit your head, leaving your forehead dripping blood down your right cheeks. your hands touch the spot, making you wince as your eyes try to focus.

the sight of your fingertips covered in blood makes your stomach churn. feeling lightheaded and unable to catch your breathe.

you desperately call out, “rafe...” he stares down at the wound in need of attention. one he caused in rage. “i’m scared.”

spots fill your vision and everything starts to fade. the last thing you felt was rafe scooping you up.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe x y/n #obx rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe fluff #obx fic #obx #outerbanks rafe #outerbanks fic #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks imagine

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ash5monster01 · 3 months

Text

Goes On Chapter Four

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.4k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

1/22/60

Getting Charlie to be social was still impossible even after his conversation with Evelyn in the gym. She tried and tried but she couldn’t get more than a few words and denial every time. She had started to run out of excuses to talk to him and she figured it wouldn’t happen for her. She’d never get to unravel the mystery of Charlie Dalton no matter how badly she wanted too. So she accepted that she would never find a reason to talk to him again until a miracle happened.

“Hello” Evelyn answered the pay phone in the hallway. The one that rang almost seconds after she got off call with her Mom.

“Hi, I was wondering if Charlie Dalton was available?” a boys voice came through the phone, it was slightly static and the way Evelyn’s heart doubled in speed made her realize she wasn’t entirely out of reason to talk to him.

“Um, I can check. Can I ask who’s calling?” Evelyn asked, trying her best not to sound too giddy through the phone.

“Tell him it’s Knox, he’ll know who” he responds and you smile even though he can’t see you.

“Yeah, give me just a minute. The boys dorms are a bit of a hike” Evelyn tells him and this so called Knox chuckles through the phone.

“Take your time” he says while she sets the phone down and starts jogging through the halls to a room she was all to familiar with. She doesn’t even knock, like usual. This time Nate’s pants are off, standing in front of his closet in boxers.

“Evelyn! Are you kidding?” he shouts, scrambling to pull on sweats and she snickers before her eyes glance to the boy laid in the corner.

“You got a call Charlie, some guy named Knox” and for the first time in both Nate and Evelyn’s lives they see a beaming smile cross the boys face. It was as if those few words had brought so much life back to him.

“Knoxie!” he grins, jumping from the bed and leaving the dorm without any shoes on.

“Knoxie?” Evelyn mutters to Nate and he shrugs as she shuts the door and rushes off in the direction Charlie is practically sprinting too.

“Knox Overstreet, it’s been too long” Charlie grabs the phone Evelyn had abandoned and she hears the adoration in his voice. How happy he is to receive a call from Knox Overstreet.

“I know man, I don’t think we’ve ever gone this long without seeing each other since we were ten” Knox responds over the line and Charlie feels tears pricking at his eyes. The happy kind though. When he was expelled his parents wouldn’t allow him any calls. He hadn’t talked to any of the boys since Neil’s funeral. The first thing he did when he got to Ridge was write a letter to each of the remaining poets letting them know the number of the school and where to address his letters. The boys must’ve just gotten them.

“I hate it” Charlie says which makes Knox laugh loudly on the other end. Class was never the same without Charlie causing trouble in them.

“Me too, you’ll be glad you’re not here though. Nolan’s really laid down law since you left. Todd pulled a stunt right before break and now he’s got us all on a short leash” Knox tells him and the shock and amusement that covers Charlie’s features shocks Evelyn who watches him talk more animated than she has ever seen him.

“Todd Anderson pulled a stunt, yeah right. Pigs also fly” Charlie says with a wide grin and glimmering eyes and Evelyn finds her heart constricting at the sight. She wanted him to smile at her like that.

“He did Charlie, swear on my life. Keating came to collect his things while Nolan was teaching our class and Todd actually stood on his desk and called out Oh Captain, my Captain. Nolan flipped and half the class stood on their desks too” Knox recalls the moment, all the emotions of respect and loss flooding through him when he stood on his own desk.

“No shit, little Todd grew a back bone” Charlie says, disbelief but also pride filling him. “How is Todd?”

“He’s okay. He misses Neil like most of us but he’s really come out of his shell. He told me he wrote you back so expect a letter from him soon” Knox informs him and Charlie feels more excitement surged through him at the thought of getting letters from his friends.

“Meeks and Pitts too? I haven’t heard from any of you guys in forever” Charlie says almost out of breath from his excitement.

“They’re good, actually got busted for building a new radio the other day. I swear Meeks almost cried” and Charlie’s laughing because he knows exactly what this all looks like. Those boys and that school had been his entire life. It was what he knew best.

“Tell him I’ll send him a new one, he deserves it” Knox chuckles at Charlie’s response, knowing that even confident and almighty Charlie had been bull dozed by the world.

“What about you Nuwanda, how’s Ridge Academy? Co-ed” the suggestion in Knox’s tone is not lost on Charlie. Thing was Charlie could never admit to Knox how reserved he had been. He’d probably never believe it.

“It’s okay, different for sure. I’m just trying to make it through” Charlie says, not knowing Evelyn still lingered and watched him for the entirety of his conversation.

“That doesn’t sound like Charlie, I would’ve thought you’d have twelve girlfriends by now” the obscure number makes Charlie laugh and he shakes his head.

“No, definitely no girlfriends. Cute girls though” this response makes Evelyn perk up beside him, curious if she was one of these so called cute girls.

“What about the one who answered the phone, she sounded cute?” Knox asks and Charlie sighs, thinking of Evelyn and how beautiful and different she was from any girl he’s ever met.

“Super cute” Charlie tells him, a soft smile on his face. If he was the man he used to be Evelyn would’ve been his by now. He’s sure of it.

“Then what the hell are you waiting for?” Knox asks exasperated and Charlie just chuckles, leaning his head against the wall next to the payphone. Still unaware of the small girl stood behind him, waiting patiently.

“The great Nuwanda has taken a leave of absence for the foreseeable future. No girls, no caves, no friends” Charlie says and this is more information Evelyn hadn’t been able to get out of him the entirety of the time he had been here.

“Well let me know when he’s back, I miss that guy” Knox says and Charlie smiles fondly of his eldest friend, other than Neil of course. Yet know he figures Knox takes that position.

“I will, I miss you Knoxie. Say hi to Chris for me and maybe I’ll get to see you soon” Charlie says, wishing more than anything he could see Knox now standing by the same phones he watched him call Chris on for the first time.

“I’d like that Charles, I’ll be in touch soon” and Charlie humphs his acknowledgment when the phone finally clicks indicating the end of the call. Sighing he hung his own phone up, feeling happier than he has in the last two months.

“Well that was unexpected” Evelyn’s voice makes Charlie jump and he quickly turns to spot the small girl who had to of been behind him the whole time.

“God, we need to put a bell on you” he says and Evelyn snorts.

“Hey don’t change the subject. What was that all about? You were smiling and laughing. Who was that guy?” Evelyn asks, crossing her arms and Charlie brings a hand to the back of his neck. He was a bit embarrassed but then again not at all. Talking to Knox was the highlight of his week.

“My friend Knox, back at Welton. It was my first time talking to him in two months so forgive me for being happy” Charlie says in defense and Evelyn nods as she takes this information in.

“I’m not saying you’re not allowed to be happy. Was just weird listening to you be so animated. So full of life. Talkative even” Evelyn points out and Charlie sighs as he starts down the hallway in direction of his dorm. He doesn’t have to check to know Evelyn is following him.

“Well I’m a very animated person, I just don’t care to show that around here” Charlie says shoving his hands in his pockets and Evelyn scurries to keep up with his long strides.

“But why? I mean God Charlie, that’s the guy I want to know. The one who was laughing and talking with his friend on the phone” Evelyn says, reaching for his arm in hopes to use his momentum to keep up with him. She’s surprised when he doesn’t shake her away and allows her arm to lock with his own.

“Look Evelyn, I don’t know what you want from me. You barely know me. I just choose to be lonely” he says and Evelyn stays silent for a moment, relishing in the heat that comes from his side.

“Who’s Nuwanda?” she suddenly asks after a moment and Charlie stiffens beside her which she notices.

“It’s just an inside joke with my friends” he’s not entirely lying but Evelyn just sighs and accepts this answer. He clocks the instant pout on her perfectly plump lips, a deep rouge color, ones he’s been dreaming of kissing since seeing them. “Please don’t make that look”

“What look?” Evelyn defends herself and Charlie chuckles, not noticing how he squeezes her arm into him. The action making butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“That pout, you keep giving me that look and pretty soon I’ll be telling you all my secrets” he says, eyes glimmering as he studies her face. Maybe it was left over from his talk with Knox or he just held admiration for the girl beside him. No one was really quite sure.

“What if I want to know all your secrets?” Evelyn whispers, eyes fluttering to look up at him through her lashes and Charlie feels the weight of her words. The tension carried between them and he wished he could do nothing more than kiss the pout off her face.

“Trust me Ev, you don’t want to know my secrets” he says after a beat and Evelyn finds herself grinning at the nickname only her friends ever called her.

“Say what you will but I have a feeling I’m getting under your skin” Evelyn teases, her free arm reaching over and dancing her fingers along his chest. Charlie just shakes his head, trying his best not to laugh because of the girl.

“What makes you say that?” he asks as they start to approach his dorm door and Evelyn just smiles as she looks at him.

“You called me Ev, only someone close to you is comfortable enough to use a nickname” and Charlie realizes his mistake but before he can address it her arm is loosening from his own and shoving his dorm door open again. Nate stands there in his boxers a second time and instantly groans the minute he sees her.

“Again, you’ve got to be kidding me?!” Nate groans out, throwing his arms in frustration.

“Dude, I don’t care. It’s not like I’m gonna look and why would it bother you if I do?” Evelyn says walking into the room and Nate blushes almost instantly but it goes away when the girls form plops onto Charlie’s bed instead of his own. She was already beginning to choose him.

“Don’t you have homework or something?” he questions, pulling his sweat pants back on and crawling into bed. He had accepted by now that this was how he was going to sleep.

“No, and I’m bored. But hey! Guess what? Charlie has friends!” she beams at him and Nate’s eyes fall to Charlie who moves to sit at the foot of his bed since Evelyn covered majority of it.

“Yeah right” Nate snorts and Charlie just rolls his eyes before looking at Evelyn.

“You know, I’d like to lay in my own bed” he says to her and a sly smirk crosses her face.

“I don’t mind cuddling, I can be big spoon if you want?” and red skin travels from Charlie’s neck and up to his ears which both Nate and Evelyn notice.

“Nate we’re locking the door from now on” he says and Nate claps his hands together before pointing at him.

“I’m with you on that one” he says and the boys quickly team up against Evelyn.

“Oh this is so not fair, ganging up on me like this. I’m perfectly innocent” yet the smile on her face says otherwise which gives encouragement for the boys to tease her more.

“Go back to your dorm, bother Violet for all I care” Nate says and Charlie nods, reaching for her arms and pulling her into an upright position.

“I agree, Nate and I have some business to discuss. Roommate business, for our ears only” Charlie says and Evelyn feigns offense as Charlie starts pushing her up off the bed.

“Yeah, it’s our weekly meeting. Only people who live in this room can be present” Evelyn gasps, fighting Charlie’s strength.

“But what if Marty is there? I’ve seen too much, my eyes just can’t bear it!” she defends but Nate joins in helping push the girl towards the door which is no equal fight. Before she can even react Charlie’s arms are locked around her waist, lifting her from the ground, and Nate opens the door where Charlie sets her down.

“Goodnight Ev” Charlie grins and she knows he did it on purpose after their conversation. Nate shuts the door and the last thing she hears is the click of the lock.

“You guys suck!” she groans out and the laughs from behind the door tell her they don’t care. Sighing she fixes her skirt that had been ruffled from the fight to the door and starts down the hallway to her own dorm. Maybe she had more reason to be curious about Charlie now, but at least she knew he thought of her as a friend. In some weird, antisocial way, and for now she could accept that.

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bygiornogiovanna · 9 months

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Idea. Yandere Jolyne x male reader who's Kakyoin's son and are childhood friends and they also have a daughter together who is still a newborn. But he leaves Jolyne as he doesn't trust her with there daughter. But Jolyne finds them and says "Yare Yare Dawa. I don't want to leave her family like my old man did to me and my mom." And takes reader away. Also this is in 2017 5 years after part 6 ended and Kakyoin dies to Pucci so Pucci would die to Jotaro so Kakyoin's son is also still depressed about his dad's death which is why him and Jolyne hook up to try and make him happy but it doesn't work. Just wanted to clarify that. So seems like a lot to work with but I think you can something good out of this.

This is an interesting idea. I like it. Let's see how well I can do. First time writing a x male fic, i think.

Tell me if i missed any detail! (I hope I didn't lol)

happy (almost) 500 followers!

apologize it took so long.

Won't get away

(Yandere! Jolyne x Male reader)

It all started 5 years ago.

Jotaro and Kakyoin, as well as their children, were fighting against the priest that tried to finish what Dio started.

It was a tough fight, the time speeding so fast was confusing. Weeks passed with every minute and they had no time to waste. If they didn't stop Pucci, Dio's dream would come true.

"Emerald Splash!" Kakyoin screamed, directing his Hierophant Green in attempt to distract Pucci, who was getting awfully close to Jolyne. It worked, the priest's attention now on him, creating the perfect bait for the start of their plan.

"Star Platinum! The World!" Jotaro yelled and time stopped. Nothing was moving anymore, but Jotaro knew he had only a few seconds to do something or the battle would be over. He had to move and do something, anything now.

7 seconds left.

Before he could reach Pucci and snap his neck, Jotaro noticed something horrifying.

Both Kakyoin and Jolyne were in danger.

Kakyoin was surrounded by hundreds of knives that would stab his insides the very second time would start again. Exactly the same position he was in 23 years ago, when he battled Dio.

5 seconds left.

And his daughter had Pucci right beside her, his fist an inch away from piercing her stomach.

For the first time in his life, Jotaro was terrified.

Life put him in the position of choosing whether to save his life-long bestfriend, taking the risk of ending the world or save his daughter and bring this hell to an end.

His heart was racing in his chest, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

4 seconds left.

His eyes darted to Kakyoin, all the memories of what they went through flashing in his mind.

They moved to his son, who was standing there frozen as everyone else. He would hate him forever.

3 seconds left.

You can't do good without sacrifices.

He learned that long ago, after losing two of his other friends.

With pain in his heart, Jotaro made his decision. He dashed to Pucci and pushed him away from Jolyne, his punches letting all his fury out.

"Time starts moving again." He whispered and everything resumed. The injured priest was thrown away at an insane speed, landing straight into a building with a fatal injury.

At the same time, Kakyoin was pierced by the knifes, falling helplessly onto the ground. As soon as Jolyne realised what happened, she called out her stand into an useless attempt of saving the red haired man.

However, it was too late.

Both Kakyoin and Pucci died, proof being the disappearance of their stands. Time moved at a normal speed again, minutes passing correctly, while the emeralds left by Noriaki vanished.

"Dad!" An awful scream made its way out of your lungs, tears flooding your eyes at the realization. You ran to your father's lifeless body, shaking him. "Please, dad, no! Don't leave me too!"

Jotaro felt his usually stoic heart crumble into pieces at the sound so he looked in other direction, far away to the ocean. His breathing was heavy, both because of the injuries and the guilt he felt.

There was nothing he could do anymore.

Ever since that day, you fell into a sever depression. You were constantly thinking about your father and why did the universe decide it should take him from you.

You couldn't blame Jotaro for choosing to save the world over saving your father. It was the right decision. But you also couldn't get over the fact that the only person you had left disappeared.

You looked like a mess every day and even if you had a job, you couldn't say your life was good. Your only social contact outside your work zone was Jolyne and you honestly couldn't say it was good.

Her emerald eyes were a constant reminder of your dad's stand, which made your heart break every time.

Jolyne was desperate. She had no clue what to do with you. Most considered you were a lost cause, but she didn't want to give up on you. She refused to. You two grew up togheter, she could not give you up.

It broke her heart. Seeing you like this made her want to cry out.

She tried talking you into therapy, but you refused to cooperate.

"Come on, it's been years, Y/N. You have to stop drinking your pain away, you are ruining yourself! Your dad would hate seeing you like this!" she said, shaking you. When you were not at work, you would drown yourself in alcohol, being your only escape.

"Stop."

"It's true! Mr. Noriaki would hate seeing how you destroy yourself every day, he-" she wanted to scold you again, but you suddenly yelled–

"Stop talking about him as if you know anything! It's only your fault anyway!"

Jolyne took a step back at your outburst. She knew you didn't mean it, but with the way your eyes held a deep hatred...Her heart ache.

"Yare yare dawa..." she shook her head, biting the inner part of her lip anxiously. You took drunk steps towards her, your much taller frame covering hers. "You have no idea what you're saying, let's get you to bed." the girl murmured, going to take your hand but you jerked away from her, almost falling before you were able to brace yourself.

"I'm t-tired of everyone acting like the-y kn...knew my father! I'm the only one th-at " you stumbled upon your words. "I'm just f-fine with how I live."

"Whatever you say." she took your arm successfully this time and dragged you to your room. You were trying to get away from her grip, but she refused to let go, throwing you onto the bed easily because of your drunk self.

The next day, you couldn't remember anything from that night. The only thing you remembered was that her lips met yours to shut you up and, from then...Blank. Everything was blank.

When you opened your eyes, you certainly didn't expect to see Jolyne laying next to you....naked. You looked around the room, the bright light burning your eyes. This was your room, there was no doubt. So why was Jolyne naked?

You knew she had a habit to sleep in her lingerie, but that didn't explain why you were also naked. It couldn't be that, could it?

However, the ache on your broad shoulders going all the way to your lower back, the way her neck was covered in small bite marks and hickeys, along with the ripped sheets beneath her, proved you wrong. That it could be.

You and your childhood best friend, Jolyne Cujoh, just had sex. And from the unseenable condom, it was unprotected.

No words were spoken between the two of you as Jolyne muttered a small 'Yare yare dawa' when she first got up. And she just left in silence, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Even if it wasn't the right thing to do, you completely cut off every single way she could contact you. Blocking her number and all of her social medias, even her father's and her friends', you even went as far as changing the locks in your home, you ignored her existence as if she never existed in the first place. Not even knowing about the growing baby in her belly.

And, that didn't go unnoticed by the young female.

The woman wasn't patient as this trait didn't run in her family. She tried everything, even broke into your home, which almost made you get you a restraining order.

That, until you saw the loose skin on her belly, decorated with stretch marks. Which could indicate only one thing. A previous pregnancy.

"Where is the child, Jolyne?" you asked coldly as the woman glared at you with bright green eyes.

"She is in the car with Ermes. Now, you will come with me, get your life back together and raise that damn child!" she hissed at you with a stern and determinated look on her face.

"No. The child comes with me, I don't trust you with her. Not after what ha-" you were about to say but suddenly, a bright blue string wrapped around your mouth multiple times, shutting you up.

"Don't you dare finish that fucking sentence. Don't blame my father for your father's death." Jolyne spoke angrily with a twisted look in her eyes.

You whined in protest, summoning your stand to try and fight back but the string around your mouth only tightened. She was undeniably stronger than you so you retreated your stand immediately.

"Yare yare dawa..." she clicked her tongue annoyed. "I don't want her to have an incomplete family as I did. You won't leave like my old man did to me. Under no circumstances will I allow that." the crazy tone that lingered in her voice made you shiver as you never saw Jolyne so determined.

"You will be with me. End of the discussion. Willingly or not, you are mine."

And after that, everything went blank.

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chrisevansonly · 1 year

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Drowning

Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Summary: Sometimes all you can do is feel every ounce of hurt and hatred that plays throughout you like a loop on a record. Most days aren’t sunshine and rainbows, if they were, these persistent feelings of worthlessness wouldn’t continue to attack you.

Warnings: mental health, depression, TW mentions of suicide (read at your own discretion) angst, soft ending

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent, I wanted to write something a little more upbeat but with my headspace that’s just not happening. Sometimes the best way to numb our own pain is to write about it through fictional eyes. We all need a release at some point, I have been in the darkest of places for far too long, and am still being tested each and every day. You are not alone, you are not a burden, you are loves, you have support, if no one is fighting for you, I will.

Word Count: 1,025

There really is no sentence that can accurately depict the feeling of your mind being at war with itself, the screaming and pounding feeling that consumes every inch, and every thought you think you have. When you’re young, no one warns you just how painful life is, the constant struggle to find your footing, the urgency to catch your breath, no one warns you that each and every day is a battle, even the strongest of people struggle with. You’re stranded with no life raft if you miss a step, fail a section, giving up seemingly the only option.

The white walls that encapsulated you in bed seemed to fade to a dull grey as clouds rolled passed the floor to ceiling walls, rain soon following, droplets sliding along the glass, almost mimicking the tears that fell down your cheeks. This struggle wasn’t new to you, it was almost comforting, the one constant in your life besides your husband, who by now, was worrying more about you than anything else going on. I suppose that’s why you felt extra heavy, because who would feel good about making someone worry, you weren’t intentionally trying to be a burden, but as the hours rolled on, it seemed like you were.

Arms wrapped around your tired body, a sense of warmth taking over you, if only it was enough to push the hurt away, and god did you fucking wish it would. You and Chris had been in bed all day, he got up every once in a while to get you food, water, anything he could try and think of that would help distract you from the waves crashing down on you. He was ever so patient, giving as much love to you as possible, his heart crushed knowing you felt so low and depleted. He wished he could strangle the bad thoughts away from you, his pretty girl, his angel, he hated this for you.

“I don’t want to do t-this anymore...”

Chris tightened his hold on you as the words tumbled out, his chest tightened at the sound of your voice, full of agony as you begged for a break, even if it was just for a moment

“I know pretty girl, I know, I wish I could take the pain and make it better, fuck I’d do anything to take this hurt away...”

His words covering you like a blanket, trying to bury themselves within the stream of negative notions that swam around you

“I can’t feel l-like this forever…when will it stop...”

It wasn’t like you wanted to die, that wasn’t at all what you wanted deep down. Truth be told, all you were ever pleading for was peace, for your mind, you, and your husband. You had a therapist you say regularly, Chris supporting you every step of the way, no questions asked he was and still continues to be your biggest supporter.

“I don’t know when, and I can’t tell you how much longer, but what I can do is continue to be here for you, in whatever capacity you need me. I’ll be your shoulder to lean on, cry on, I’ll be the hand you hold when the storm picks up, I’ll be the anchor to hold you down and to ground you to yourself. I will be the love you crave to help on the low days, to surround you with nothing but comfort and tranquility, and I will be the one to fight for you when you feel like giving up.”

The tears only continued to fall, Chris catching them and rubbing his hand up and down your back, instinctually moving further into his hold, the one place that was your safety net.

“If I wasn’t here the-”

Before you could even get the words out, he stopped you, turning himself so he could grasp your face in his hands, his eyes glossing over as he looked at you, his whole world, crumbling right before him

“Don’t. Don’t you finish that sentence baby, if you weren’t here, I would cease to exist, you are the light of my life, you have a purpose, you have a future, and I will do everything in my fucking power to make sure you see that, do you hear me baby? I will not, and cannot lose you, that is not an option for me, I love you with everything I have, and If I have to go to the end of the fucking universe to show you just how important you are to me, and everyone else I will fucking do just that. You are worth it, you are strong, you are courageous, the road is rough as hell right now, but I’ll be damned if I let you stop fighting now, if you need a break, let me do the fighting for you, let me be the light for you.”

You blinked a few times letting the words sink in before nodding

“I need a b-break”

Chris pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, and then your forehead holding it for a few moments before bringing you back into his chest, holding onto you like you were going to disappear, and a part of him felt like you would.

“Alright pretty girl, alright, I’ll fight for you, no matter how hard it gets I’ll fight for you, I will always fucking fight for you.”

In that moment despite the heaviness still resting on you, it almost felt like you could breathe a little easier, your body sinking further into safety as Chris kept you tight to his side. You knew this was far from over and the road was nowhere near the end, but Chris taking over, even if just for a little, made the world seem a little less dark in that moment. You would fight it, you would beat this, no matter what, Chris would make sure of it, even if you weren’t so sure, he was there to remind you that you would.

‘The world gives you so much pain, and here you are making gold out of it, there is nothing purer than that '– Rupi Kaur

#chrisevans #chrisevansxreader #chris evans x reader #chris x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x female reader #rueswrites #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x you

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spinningwebsandtales · 1 year

Text

Imagine Aki Staying With You

Aki Hayakawa X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of drunks, smoking, kind of depressed Aki, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

(A/N:) Hello followers and readers I am not dead! Still super busy and majority of the time when I do have a little moment to write my hands hurt too bad to even try. I’m ready for things to start slowing down. I actually had a pretty good day today where I could try to write so I did! I’ve had this idea since October but didn’t have the time to get it wrote. I was going to save it until New Years when I should be back to my normal creative self. But since I’ve been so absent I decided not to do that to y’all. I had it wrote so I should get it posted so there’s something new before then. So I look forward to be back, but until then enjoy this that has been swimming and torturing me for months! XD Until next time happy reading! And have a safe and fun Christmas! ~Countess

It was always a rare occasion when Aki was able to come around. Majority of the time he was overwhelmingly busy with work and then his free time was keeping his two wards under constant supervision. But when those rare moments of solitude and freedom came around you could find Aki haunting the rooms of your house. It was these times you knew everything was beginning to take a hold of him. He couldn’t stand to be alone with his dark thoughts, especially with horrible memories battering his mental stronghold. So he came to you for support and quiet solace that chased the dreadful feelings away. This time was no different. With Makima dealing with Denji and Power, Aki found himself alone in his apartment. Normally he wished every day that they would go away but this was one of those moments where he didn’t need the quiet. So it was time to call in backup.

As soon as your phone screen flashed with his name you knew exactly what he needed. Not thirty minutes later Aki stepped through your front door, freshly showered and clothed for sleep. His eyes, surrounded by darkened rings of exhaustion. He stalked into your living room and fell right into your couch with a heavy sigh. You didn’t say a word as you let him have his moment, acting like you never even noticed the fact that he felt anything else besides pure hatred for devils and his stoic personality. This was your relationship. He never asked for more from you and you never asked more from him. He couldn’t handle getting this close to someone from work, that’s why he could swear that you are a heaven sent to him. You didn’t ask questions, you didn’t turn him away at any moment, you were just there a quiet, sturdy, unchanging friend when he needed it most.

Now as night had fallen Aki couldn’t bring himself to leave you. You didn’t have a guest room but you could trust Aki to be a natural gentleman so he always occupied the other side of your bed with you whenever he stayed around. Your soft breaths of sleep lulled him, but the storming ocean of his mind refused to settle. He watched you for a few moments your chest rising up and down as soft snores from your parted lips caused a smile to come to his. Your hair curtained your soft rosy cheeks, he decided to get up and go smoke before the temptation of touching you became too much. Aki did know you both had feelings for one another, your feminine whiles as you called them called to his inner self that he suppressed every time he came around. But as a Devil Hunter he refused to explore them.

As he stepped onto your outdoor balcony the cooler air stirring his black locks he remembered the first time he tried smoking inside your apartment. You almost pushed him over the railing to the bustling streets below, you couldn’t get him out fast enough. After that you bought an ash tray just for him to keep there outside. You even bought him a chair so that if he grew tired of standing he always had a place to rest. He chuckled lightly placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it with his trusty lighter. Blowing smoke to the wind he watched it dissipate with the gentle breeze before taking another drag. The coals that burned away the tobacco lit up the darkened world as the city slept, minus a few straggling bar patrons that weaved back and forth in drunken stupors. Aki lost himself once more into his raging thoughts, so much so he didn’t hear your sliding doors open or notice you come outside until you were standing right next to him. Your normally perfect hair mussed from sleep while draped in a warm blanket from your bed wrapped around you as tightly as possible. Still you shivered from the cold. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side. You snuggled deeply, fitting against him like a puzzle piece that was always meant to be right there at all times.

“Can’t sleep,” you asked after several seconds passed you both by.

“Mind won’t quiet down,” he shrugged taking another deep drag from the cigarette.

“That happens to me sometimes,” you nodded before looking down at the people he was just staring at. “Must be nice being so care free you can just get drunk and go home late whenever you want.”

“Or they’re drinking to forget something,” Aki pointed out.

“True,” you agreed. “But does that guy look like he’s been drinking to forget things?” You pointed to one man below giggling like a child before disappearing down an alleyway. Aki’s lips pulled into a thoughtful pout.

“Most likely not.”

“Point made.”

“But what about that one,” he grinned slyly pointing towards one man at an empty bus stop bawling himself into a blubbering stupor.

“And your point as been made as well. Poor dear.”

“Ah don’t feel sorry for him he’s the one drowning himself in booze instead of taking care of the problem.”

You nuzzled in deeper, “When did my sweet Aki get to be so cruel to his fellow man?”

His dark eyebrow arched and a small dusting of pink took to his cheeks. Though if you pointed that out he’d just blame it on the cool temperature. “Since you met me,” he replied immediately before snuffing out his cigarette butt. “Now let’s go inside before you catch a cold. I already have to care for two children I don’t need a third.”

“Hey,” you pouted dragging your feet so he would have to push harder, “you could catch a cold too and I would have to take care of you!”

“Doubtful. But if you’ll hurry up and get to bed I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

“An Aki special breakfast?!?!”

He nodded and you squealed in delight taking off for the bedroom, Aki right on your heels. You spread the blanket you had stolen from said bed earlier back out before getting back under the several blankets. Aki joined you laying to where he could watch you for a little longer before he finally fell under a deep sleep. You scooted closer right against him your bright eyes penetrating deep into the darker depths of his. You smiled warmly, eyes fluttering close before you fell back to sleep. Aki calmed his racing heart before taking you into his arms. With you embraced protectively against him, he finally released all that kept him from relaxing and it wasn’t much longer after you that he fell right to sleep. He promised you before losing all consciousness to cook you the best breakfast you ever had in the morning.

#Aki Hayakawa X Reader #Aki Hayakawa / Reader #Chainsaw Man #Aki Hayakawa #Aki Hayakawa Imagine #Chainsaw Man Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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