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#wish he could've been normal to her
badn3w · 8 months
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I always get whiplash watching Mac's relationship with Carmen because she is the only person we've ever seen be unapologetically into Mac and in turn we see him get all nervous and giddy and it's so ahhhhh and then he immediately ruins it twice
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luveline · 1 year
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𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you comfort miguel when he lashes out after a memory —a ficlet featuring begrudgingly lovesick miguel and a flirty spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k
cw implied ptsd and accidental rough handling
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel can feel your heart-eyes on him. You're sitting behind him on the floor in his office, or, as you've fondly nick-named it this week, The Control Room, humming and making little origami flowers. 
So far you've made five, promising him without prompting a multi-coloured bouquet. He doesn't know why you've stopped (or why you started), but he doesn't have to turn around to confirm it. He can tell. You're shameless either way, proven when you say, "Hey, handsome?" 
He sighs with more annoyance than he feels. "What?"
"How'd you know I was talking to you?" you ask, with a laugh he loves and hates at once. Loves, because it's a really nice sound, and hates, because he knows how this goes. "I could've been talking to Margo." 
"She is handsome," Lyla chimes in. 
"Very much," you agree. 
Margo, alias Spider-Byte, looks up from her tablet screen to flash a smile. "Thanks, guys." 
"What did you want, then?" Miguel asks.
He's surrounded by girls who live to annoy him —they all laugh as though they know something he doesn't, and when he turns to glare at them they laugh more. Lyla zips out of his eyeline, disappearing from view with a sympathetic, "He's dumber than he looks." 
"Hurtful," Miguel says, turning back to his screen. "Why do I bother?" 
You stand up with your bundle of paper flowers crinkling in your hands and approach him. You're of normal height, while Miguel is of 'ridiculous' height (your word choice), and so you have trouble looking him in the eye when you stand close. You have more trouble keeping your distance, craning your neck all the way up with your rubber capped shoes to his spidersuit ones. 
"Can you lean down a bit, please?" you ask. 
Margo laughs, “Oh, here we go.”
Miguel has trouble saying no to you. And by trouble, he means he finds it impossible, and he hasn't done it in a while. He leans down very slightly, worried you're going to try and kiss him in front of the others. He's kissed you already (which he hates himself for, what a stupid thing to do) (but was a good kiss, as things go, your lips soft under his, his ardency undulating in the face of your little gasping sound when he'd bitten your lip, when he'd grasped at your side like you were slipping through his fingers), and you've kissed him. But never in front of other people.
Which isn't to say they don't know. Everyone definitely knows. They're just too scared or too kind to say. Or, like Lyla or Margo, they find it funny. 
Now in reach, you lift an origami flower to his ear and attempt to prop it there. He has a flash of a memory, a small hand by his face, the summer sun on his neck, and he can't deal with it. He grabs your wrist and pushes it away from him. 
Your eyes widen. You're not unused to his bad moods, but Miguel doesn't grab.
You look back, and he thinks it's because you're scared, and he wishes he could take it back straight away, but you're looking for Margo and Lyla. When you see they aren't there, you take his face into your empty hand and ask, "What's wrong?" 
Miguel doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. Sorry would be a good start, but his mouth is dry. He frowns down at you.
"I didn't mean to overstep," you say, uncharacteristically serious. 
"I didn't mean to grab you," he says. 
"I know. It wasn't so aggressive, anyways. I'm genetically enhanced, you know?" Your smile creases the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. "I'll make you something else. A fan, for the heat, or a jumping frog." 
You turn and take a step away. Again, Miguel reaches for you, but when he takes your wrist this time it's with the kindness you deserve.
"I'm sorry, cariño," he says. 
He’s embarrassed for having pushed you away, even if he couldn’t control himself. All you were trying to do no doubt was make him happy. It's usually your main prerogative besides winding him up, and he can't find any ill will in a paper flower. 
"Cariño," you quote in a murmur. It doesn't take a second for you to return to your smiley, loving self. "That's definitely something nice." 
"It's affectionate." He doesn't explain more than that. 
You force your hand into his, twirling inward like a half-hearted dance. "I can tell," you say giddily, dropping your cheek into his chest. 
He rubs the back of your hand. Sorry, sorry, it says, each pass of his thumb against your skin. 
"Miguel," you say, in the lilting cadence of a girl with a favour to ask, "now you've ragged me around–" 
"Not what happened–" 
"–I was thinking maybe I could do something to you." You smile cheekily around your words. 
He sweeps his gaze across the office to make sure there's no one here with you both, or about to be. Complicated you may be, but Miguel knows you well. Better than he should. He spent a long time denying his feelings for you, aggrieved and guilty, and a longer amount of time resenting you for being so damned enchanting. Which wasn't your fault in reality —you're a weird creature, and you can be a little off-putting; it's Miguel's problem alone that he wants you as badly as he does. To feel your neat, teasing smirk under his lips. To have the line of your jaw against his hand as you whisper flirtation or laugh at your own awful jokes. 
To take your hip into his grasp and squeeze. 
There have been times where Miguel wanted to press you up against a wall and kiss you into silence, quieten your taunting teasing with a bite to match his bark. And there have been times where he wanted to rub the tense line between your shoulders, having caught you in a vulnerable moment, and promise that things will be better. 
He isn't making any more promises, not in this life, but he thinks that someone like you, who tries too hard to make people happy and sometimes wears two masks at once deserves to do whatever it is they want to do to people like him.
"Okay," he says quietly. His voice is rough as hewn stone. 
You have a pocket full of paper stars that crunch as you lean in. "I'm gonna kiss you, if you promise not not to freak out. Is that cool?" 
Okay, you deserve some softness, but Miguel would rather lead. Your hand falls to his chest, and his hands find your face. His fingers behind your ears, his thumbs aligned with your smile, he squeezes your cheeks in his hold gently, tilting your chin up, and up. The column of your throat is bared and begging to be scandalised. He can imagine it, the bruising his lips would leave behind like crescent moons and the pinprick crimson stars from his needling fangs if he were to only press down. 
"We'll compromise. I'll kiss you, and you'll let me apologise again." 
"I don't need you to say sorry again," you say softly. 
"Then I won't say it." 
The implication has heat rising to your cheeks. Your hand grabs uselessly at his suit as you close your eyes, and Miguel knows his cue. He leans down and kisses you, tender but a little rough, your lips soft and warm and eager as he encourages your head to one side. It feels like you try to say something but you don't move back, and so he doesn't either, kissing and kissing and kissing until he's sure he'll remember how it feel tonight, hours from now, when he's staring at a screen wishing you were haunting his office rather than in a doze in the girl's dormitory. 
"Miguel," you say, practically into his mouth. This time he pulls away, and you take a small step back so you don't have to crane your neck. "I, uh…" 
Miguel wipes the sheen from your bottom lip, not not listening but certainly not giving his full attention. He's hoping you'll let him kiss you again.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the flower," you say. 
His eyes lifted to yours. "It's not that. It's not you. Don't waste any time thinking about it, okay?" 
He pinches your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. You hold his eyes for a moment. 
"I don't really think," you say bashfully, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a hug he doesn't have time to reciprocate. 
"You think," he says, blinking as you retreat from him completely, waltzing back to your origami station on the floor. Your hips don't sway, but there's a movement to them he tracks. 
"About you, handsome? All the time." 
Miguel groans and turns back to his screens. Lyla appears silently, and sticks a finger into her mouth in a mock gag. 
"That's in poor taste," he says. 
"I would like to hand in my resignation." 
"You can't resign, Lyla. You're a hologram." 
She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses up her nose and blinks out of view, refusing to speak to Miguel for the rest of the day outside of official Society business, and even then she's cranky. You fill the void of conversation with a mixture of nonsensical and merited suggestions, and by the time you leave for the night, his desk is decorated by a rainbow menagerie of paper animals, each one made with care. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! please consider reblogging if you have the time! <;3 if you have a request of this pairing or other miguel fics and want to share, im eager to see them!
my other miguel fics
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nnight-dances · 10 months
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LOVE & OTHER CLICHÉS
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PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. kim mingyu)
GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive content
TROPES: brother's best friend, slow burn question mark, skirting around communication because that's a good plot point, jealousy as requested, banter, teasing, arbitrary social norms about words like "cute" and "sweet" pls don't listen to a word i say ever, etc.
WORD COUNT: 12k (for some reason)
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The first time you re-meet Jeon Wonwoo, your brother Joshua's best friend, you think a lot of things. He does, too. It's really interesting how neither of you say exactly what you think.
"Y/N! Is that really you?" 
If you hadn't been on the phone with Karina when you heard Wonwoo's voice, you think you might've genuinely passed away because his voice is something of nostalgic value to you, something distant and definitely not in the same living room as you. You look up and your eyes widen when you find the man gaping at you. "-Oh, hi–" you shoot up from your seat on the couch and then quickly remember your friend still on the line. You tell her, "Sorry, Rina, mind if I call you back later? Okay, thanks, love you. Night." 
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you like you'd said something amusing and it's turn to take him in as you drop your phone onto the couch. "Wonwoo, god, you're alive?" you start with a small smile and continue, "Wow, um, you look… the same." What you mean to say is: How did you get even taller, you attractive bastard?
Wonwoo offers you one of his smug smiles at that and replies, "Thanks? I think. You look much more… grown up, you know." He really should've said: Holy shit, you're pretty. And then he opens his arms, "Bring it in, kid. Let's see if I can still get away with tackling you to the ground."
You scoff even as you step closer to him, ignoring the way his arms are a lot bigger than they once used to be when you tell him, "I think you're remembering it wrong, dude. I was the one tackling you."
 It's no use, though, because when he wraps his arms around you, you sigh contentedly because this right here? This is a hug. Wonwoo's so warm around you and you can only pretend that the way you feel his hard muscles tense around you doesn't send chills up your spine. Wonwoo's smiling wide, only barely controlling a comment about how good you smell and how you might've grown taller but somehow still manage to fit just the same in his arms.
All in all, it's a pretty sweet reunion. You haven't seen each other in over five years so the curiosity and surprise is barely uncalled for. You only wished you could've held onto the hug longer before Joshua entered the room with a disgusted grimace on his face.
"Gross. Can you guys not do that?" 
You're the first to pull away with a flustered sigh at Joshua's comment, rolling your eyes. Wonwoo tries to cover up the way he's slightly out of breath by countering, "Why? You can't handle us interacting like two normal humans? Want us to claw at each other's eyeballs like the good old times?"
"I don't get it, though," Wonwoo tells you, a slice of donkatsu hovering near his mouth, "Why didn't you just move in with Shua?"
"That's what I've been asking her! Haven't I been a good enough brother to you? What did I do wrong? Huh?" 
You'd already seen Joshua's reaction coming, sipping the beer from your glass to brace yourself. "And as I've politely reminded you many times, big brother, it's not personal. I just thinking that would be the equivalent of moving back in with my parents. Plus, I can afford to live alone now, remember? The promotion that came with the reallocation?"
Joshua flashes you the unconvinced glare he always does when you reason with him. But you train your eyes on Wonwoo instead, determined to get him on your side at least. "It would be waste to just live with him and not do the independent thing. Plus, I literally live across from you, man, so I might as well be moving in with you."
Wonwoo nods quietly as he washes his bite down with some beer, "Hmm. That's fair enough. I don't know why Shua's been whining about it then."
You break into a pleased laugh at that where your brothers gasps in offense. "Hey, Jeon Wonwoo, whose side are you supposed to be on here?"
Wonwoo shrugs, "I'm on the side of logic, my man, I'm sorry."
"God, don't let her fool you. She says all this reasonable stuff but–"
"Oh, so you agree that it's reasonable then?" you question him with a raised brow but he ignores you as he spews his nonsense. 
"-- But the real reason she wants to live alone is so she can get laid."
You hit Joshua real hard in the arm at that, "Ew, dude, don't be a pervert." 
Wonwoo looks postively entertained between the two of you as he provokes you, "What does he mean?"
"Fuck if I know. I don't know what gave this guy the idea that I like to sleep around, if anything, he's the player."
Joshua narrows his eyes at you, "Uh-huh, me, the guy who was in a long-term relationship of nearly five years?"
"Emphasis on was in a relationship. How many people have you slept with since then? I don't want to know. I'm just making a point."
Wonwoo chuckles, "She's right, man. You're not exactly on the higher ground here."
"Okay, okay, but I did overhear you telling your friend that, quote, living with my brother would be the greatest clockbock there is, end quote."
Your jaw falls open when you hear him recount your words to Karina only a few hours ago. "You're eavesdropping on my calls? Wow, see, this is why I don't want to live with you."
"You weren't exactly very quiet! And you were sitting in the living room, too!"
"Whatever," you roll your eyes and then catch the questioning look Wonwoo sends your brother and you take matters in your own hands. "Fine, I said that because I mean, yeah, it's not like the hottest thing to be living with your brother, okay? Like what if I meet a cute guy and lose him to the fact that Shua's the biggest prude to exist?"
"Man, you just made a player, and now I'm a prude? Choose a story, goddamn it!" 
You shrug with a grin, "People can be two things, bro."
– 
"So, you all moved in yet?" Wonwoo asks you and you try to ignore how silly he looks with the edges of his glasses fogged up against the heat of the coffee in his hands. Last week, he'd texted you asking if you'd like to get coffee and catch up. You'd replied with a goofy grin playing on your lips at 1 AM with a: sure :))) if u pay!
You hum as you stir your own latte, "I think so. But everytime I think it's all done, there's always something small I forgot. Like, this morning I realized I don't have wine glasses."
He chortles, "Ah, I know what you mean. Something small but inconvenient. Like a good night lamp."
"Ugh, I need one of those, too. I brought my old one with me but ended up leaving it in the study because I didn't have one there." You sigh as you slump in your seat, "God, I hate moving. I'll have age twenty years by the time I'm fully done."
Wonwoo watches you with a bemused smile. "I can help you with shopping, if you'd like."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's not like I moved in recently but I still remember some good places for this stuff. And it might be less tiresome if you have some company." 
Your replying smile is so genuine that it's got Wonwoo smiling and he thinks he's helping you out more for himself than Joshua. It's an unsettling thought for a moment but then your voice pipes back up with an anecdote from your work and he can't care for the thoughts. 
"...So, you have any luck finding cute guys to bring home?"
The question catches you off-guard and your grip on the wine glass you were inspecting loosens dangerously, but you hold onto it before it can break like your pretense of sanity. 
"God," you groan as you look at a chuckling Wonwoo who's standing next to you, arms crossed in that infuriatingly attractive way. "I was slightly drunk when I said that, so it would be nice if you forgot about it."
"Why? I mean, it's understandable you'd want to get into the dating pool here. It's one way to get to know a new city."
You turn all your attention to a different glass. "I guess. But I haven't had too much luck, no. Maybe waiting around to find love organically is my problem."
Wonwoo doesn't immediately respond to that, making you uneasy and sending heat to your ears. Whatever. You'd just have to scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep so you could forget this embarrassment. 
"Hmm, I don't know. It'll just take more time that way, I suppose. If you're willing to wait."
It's your turn to go mute except this time the silence is comfortable, only broken by a comment here and there about the glasses. 
"What about you?" you ask Wonwoo at checkout, watching the worker wrap up your chosen set of glasses in bubble wrap. "Are you… with someone?"
Wonwoo's lips twitch with a small smile at your question. "Not at the moment. I like the space of being single." You nod in understanding. 
"And I haven't really met anyone worth spending my time with," he says, eyes floating to you as he pushes his glasses up with a finger. 
You pause at his words, thanking the cashier for their help and making your way to the exit. "You make it sound like dating's a chore, Wonwoo."
He shrugs with a shoulder, "It can be. With the wrong person."
– 
"So… tell me all about your hot brother's hot best friend?" 
"Ew and ew, Karina, do you want me to block you for real this time?" 
"I'm just being honest but all right, do you want to talk about your years-old crush on your brother's best–"
"That's not any better. And I don't have crush on him. Also, it would really nice if we didn't say the word crush anymore. We're both adults with jobs."
"And adults with jobs aren't allowed to have a little fun?" Karina's voice is laced with laughter and you groan in frustration. Who has she been hanging out with to make her so much worse? Not you. 
"Anyway, since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. My older brother is okay. And so is Wonwoo. There."
A few minutes of further pestering from Karina and you finally let slip that Wonwoo and you have been hanging out here and there, sometimes over coffee that led to shopping dates (Karina's words, not yours) and other times spent over at Joshua's, drinking or playing video games on his couch. It was pretty cozy and you couldn't really complain about this new life.
"Oh, so you don't miss me then, huh? Nice to know. But also it seems like you're hitting it off with Wonwoo and before you cut me off, you did like Wonwoo for like half your childhood, remember? Maybe this could become something. Who knows?"
Oh, you remember. It was you who spent long summer afternoons staring at Wonwoo as he came over to your home after class, spending all his time arguing with Joshua about a card game they'd been playing or about which villain was cooler in the new movie they'd watched. For a while, it had been a distant thing but over time, you'd warmed up to them and started talking more to Wonwoo, now a regular participant in their arguments. 
And as it turns out, it doesn't take a lot of arguments to fall for Jeon Wonwoo.
– 
One thing about you is that you're stubborn. You like to think it's a genetic thing because the only person who could rival your firmness was none other than your brother. And this meant that when Karina tried to convince you that you still had a soft spot for Wonwoo, you tried to tell her that's all it was: a soft spot. Like a platonic affinity for someone you'd spent a lot of time with growing up.
And you reasoned it out with yourself that night, thinking back to the time you'd spent with him recently. It was familiar in the best way possible. Where meeting new people at work was absolutely exhausting, coming back home to your brother and Wonwoo was like a hug to your soul.
Speaking of hugs, your mind rolled over to the one you'd shared with Wonwoo a few weeks ago, an event that you often found yourself thinking. As sane and rational as you thought yourself to be, the way you'd find yourself unable to control a giggle in the dark every time you remembered the way you all but melted into his arms, strong but fond in their embrace around your waist. 
And when you come to your senses, you realize it's ridiculous how stuck up on that hug you are. It's stupid your smile that breaks through anyway and the way your heart beats faster when you remember the plans you'd made with Wonwoo for tomorrow, a trip to a local bookstore because he had found your collection of books lacking the day he'd come over for a visit.
You roll over in bed then, groaning a little because you're starting to think the soft spot might be… growing. 
"You know I really didn't think I would spend this much on books today," you mumble as you tap your card at the register. It was almost funny how many conversations you and Wonwoo have had at check-out, almost inevitable because often the shopping experience itself meant a lot of focused silence as the two of you browsed around in tandem. 
It was a weirdly heartwarming way to spend time together. Or maybe that was just you and your weakness for quality time. 
"What do you mean? We literally mutually decided that you needed a better collection." Wonwoo leans against the counter with a cocked brow.
"Well, the mutual part is up for discussion. It's more like you shamed me for keeping a modest book collection. And I mean, I wasn't so sure if I'd find anything good here."
"Really?" he asks, picking up the heavy bag from the counter before you can reach for it, "Because I remember you agreeing pretty quickly and enthusiastically to my proposition to go book-shopping."
"That was only because you made it sound like fun." And it meant that I'd get to spend more time with you. "And it was fun. So that's one thing you're right about."
Wonwoo's smile turns smug as you exit the bookstore, each with a paper bag in hand. You'd settled for carrying Wonwoo's own purchase of two new books that he'd apparently been meaning to come out and buy. 
"Anyway, now what? You wanna go to my place and break into one of these bad boys?" You shake the bag in your hand with a gleeful grin. But Wonwoo's looking at the mall across from you with mouth slightly ajar in concentration. And then he smiles, pure excitement plastered across his face when looks back at you.
"I have a much better idea." That's all he says before his unoccupied hand finds yours and tugs you after him. Admittedly, you're a little dizzy at the sudden touch and let him pull you across the road with quick steps, struggling to keep up with him. At the back of your head, you store away how attractive it is that Wonwoo's holding a good dozen books in a hand and yours in the other, racing ahead like it was the most important thing in the world. And honestly? If it was with Wonwoo, you think you feel the urgency in your veins as if it were travelling across your intertwined palms.
It's a good day to be a romantic for you, as you later find out, standing in line with Wonwoo to purchase tickets to a newly released movie. The genre? Rom-com.
"Well, it's not so much a rom-com as the poster makes it seem. That's actually a deft marketing stunt. It's actually a pretty serious movie about love and I've heard it's not for the weak."
So many questions. You have so many questions. 
For one, "I didn't know you were into romantic movies," you comment, watching Wonwoo from the corner of your eye, too afraid to look him in the eye now that your hand was no longer in his.
"It's possible to avoid romance. Everything is about love these days, even if it isn't."
You also can't believe that you're about to watch a movie with Wonwoo. It's all strangely… different. You'd never been to the movies alone with him. It's a new territory for you. But you're not mad. If anything, the smile on your lips is playful. 
"And it's not just that you're too scared to admit that you like rom-coms?"
"I'm not. Into rom-coms, I mean. The humor is straight-up bad and the romance is tolerable at best. It's like if you're going to do a x to death, you might as well do it well."
"I can't believe this," you mutter more to yourself than him, "Jeon Wonwoo watching a rom-com? This must be a dream."
"You dream about me, hmm?" 
You narrowly avoid whiplash when you turn to look at Wonwoo, his teasing only another addition to the list of things you didn't think you'd hear your brother's best friend every say to you. But the more you know, huh?
The movie itself is insane. The plot is devastating enough on its own but the way Wonwoo's shoulder pressed into yours the whole time, despite there being more than enough space between the two seats, has you more vulnerable than usual. So find yourself tearing up halfway through the movie and sit through the credits with half-contained sobs. And where Wonwoo had laughed at your tears mid-way, when he noticed your sobs, his hand found your back, rubbing it comfortingly. 
"That was horrific," you mumble when you're less overcome with sadness and pout at Wonwoo. "I hate you for making me watch that. I will never find happiness. And worse, I will never find love."
Your words, punctuated with that small pout of yours, has Wonwoo a breath away from falling to his knees with his head in hands because fuck, you're adorable. And truth be told, he was tearing up at the end, too, but he wouldn't let you know that because the way you accuse him for your state is just incredibly precious to him. 
"It was terrific," he corrects you, "And I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so emotional."
You glare at Wonwoo at that, as if you hadn't just been dabbing at your eyes with his pocket tissues, "Okay, Mister Emotionless, don't think I didn't catch you wiping tears away in the closing scene."
Wonwoo shoots a guilty grin and pats your head, "You're cute." 
The statement leaves you speechless enough that Wonwoo gets away with it, starting to walk away with a gaping you in his wake. You're deeply confused and slightly jittery when you finally catch up to him with a small "I wasn't trying to be" of affront under your breath. 
– 
"That's bad, right, isn't it? It's so bad. It's horrible."
"Calm down, Y/N, he called you cute, just so we're clear? Not a bunch of bad words right? So why is it bad?" 
"Because!" you cry out, "Because cute is like the most platonic adjective. I thought we were having a moment, what with a movie date and all– but if he thinks I'm cute then I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong." 
"Okay, I know what you mean but that's not always how things work. I mean, you said he held your hand and stuff, right? That's more than platonic. And it's all about the tone. Cute can be a very romantic word if in the right context."
"The context," you tell Karina with a sigh, "is that he's my brother's best friend! He couldn't make it any clearer. Wow, and I was all up in my head over him, too."
"Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how I told you that you still had feelings for Wonwoo?"
"We will do no such thing. Because the feelings are gone now!" 
"Right. I believe you, Y/N," Karina deadpans over the phone, "You can call me when you're done being an idiot. Bye."
– 
It's Karina's sarcastic tone that your thoughts catch onto the next few days, the ones you spend half in agony because Wonwoo hasn't contacted you and after your personal dilemma, you think you'd let someone shoot you before you texted him first. 
So you try your best to distract yourself with work, showing up earlier than you'd built a reputation for, and staying a little later than most. It's a new routine for you, one that leaves you pretty tired in a way that your bones are not used to. 
Maybe that's why your legs don't seem to be working that morning when you bump into someone on your way to the coffee machine. You'd been rubbing your neck, trying to feel out the knot that you'd woken up with, and had effectively lost track of where you were going and collided with a solid figure, sending a few steps back.
You sigh as you regain your balance, ever so thankful that you didn't fall flat on your butt as you look up at the person in front you. He's tall enough that you should've seen him coming so you're first to apologize. "Shit, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry about that!"
"No, no, I should've been more careful. I'm lucky I wasn't carrying a coffee or that could've been really bad. I'm sorry." The man's voice is hoarse and he talks over himself, as if eager to get all his thoughts before he forgets what he's saying. 
You meet his eyes with a small smile, "I guess we're both at fault, huh?" 
He reciprocates your smile with crescent eyes. "Yup. Can I get you a coffee as reparation?" 
"I mean, it's not a big deal at all."
"I insist," the man levels his gaze at you and you wonder how he looks like he could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, but still manages to be so soft. 
"I'm Mingyu, by the way," he tells you as he hands you a cup of warm coffee. "Thanks Mingyu. I'm Y/N."
"I've seen you around. You were a new hire, right?"
You take your time with a sip of your coffee before responding, "Yes, I was originally at another branch but my leader wanted me closer to headquarters before they opened up new branches in this city. I don't know, something exposure for me and experience for them."
"You must be good if they sent you here," Mingyu points out and you brush it off with a noncomittal shrug. You find yourself pleasantly enamoured by Mingyu for the next ten minutes or so and you wonder how you'd missed him at all in the first place. But when he tells you he better get going, you nod with a smile, "Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mingyu."
Mingyu becomes the perfect distraction, as one might predict he would. He has a unique charm, what with the contrast between his intimidating physique but surprisingly shy demeanour. He's the textbook golden retriever in people and though you're not a dog person, you find yourself grow fonder of him every time you run into him near the coffee machine or while leaving work in the elevator. 
"You have a work crush?"
You groan loudly, throwing a half-eaten cracker at Joshua. "Come on, what is it with all the people I know and having the most childish vocabulary?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not erudite enough for you? You know it may not seem like it but I am four years older than you and I have that much more–"
"Yeah, yeah, something about experience and knowledge, I've heard it before. And by the way, it's technically three years and three months, not that I'm counting."
"You very clearly are," Joshua points out with a frustrated laugh, "Anyway, you gonna make a move on this guy?"
"No, because if you were actually listening to me, you'd have heard that I like him as a friend and that I need help buying a gift for his birthday."
"Right, right," your brother mumbles in thought, "And that's next week?"
You nod as you pick your phone up, scrolling through the chat with Mingyu to reach the text he'd sent you a day ago: by the way, i'm throwing for my birthday on the 6th. love it if you came ;)
Winky emoji and slightly short notice aside, you'd replied as enthusiastically as you could muster: your birthday??? when were you going to tell me!! and: ofc i'll be there but not before i make you suffer for hiding smth so imp from me :(((
Before you can squeeze any more vaguely helpful tips from Joshua, his bell rings and you sit up with a frown as he stands up to get it. "Ah, Wonwoo's here."
"Wonwoo?" is your shocked gasp to that information, body going stiff because you'd seen him only in passing since the day of the movie. You think you might pass out. Why does nobody think it's important to tell you anything these days? 
You hear their voices in the corridor as Joshua lets Wonwoo in and your mind races with your options. Hiding in the bathroom for the night would be feasible if your brother wasn't a monster who would drag you out within thirty minutes. Maybe you climb out a window? But you were on the eight floor and as much as you liked to joke about death, you'd prefer to escape alive. 
Your brother's voice breaks you out of your scheming, alerting you they're in the living room. "Oh yeah, Y/N, here's someone with not childish vocabulary if you want to replace me." 
You look over your shoulder with a scowl but immediately lose your spirit when you lock eyes with Wonwoo, a lopsided smile greeting you. He's wearing a cozy sweater that's a shade of blue so dark that it might as well be black and you want to start crying because his hands are concealed beneath the sleeves, fists turned sweater paws as he stands there, looking between you and your brother. 
"Why are you two fighting this time?" 
"Nothing." "She has a crush at work." 
Wonwoo lets out a sigh when you both answer simultaneously but seems intrigued by Joshua's statement, eyeing him. "What did you say?"
"She has a–" 
"I'm warning you, if you say the word crush one more time, I will do something so unimaginable to your face at night–"
"She likes a guy from work."
Wonwoo looks surprised as he looks back at you inquisitively and you frown. "Untrue. It's just a guy I made friends with recently. And I only mentioned him so I could get advice but clearly, nobody here supports me so I'm going to take this conversation elsewhere."
"I support you." Wonwoo's quick response has you freezing in your dramatic exit and you turn to look at him in doubt but when his expression is clear of any mischief, you sit back down. 
"Nice to know. But I'd love it if we talked about something else for now. Like dinner." 
The night takes on a more comfortable journey from thereon, with the three of you ordering take-out and fighting it out with a card game while it was on its way. You were actually proud of yourself for acting normal around Wonwoo, despite all your past internal conflict. And you would've gone to sleep somewhat peacefully if he hadn't approached you in the kitchen, while Joshua was taking out trash, having lost the game. 
You were placing the leftovers in the fridge when Wonwoo materialized behind you, the only warning of his presence the question he asks you, "You want any help?" 
You barely hold in a surprised squeak as you spin around to him. "Goddamn it, Wonwoo, make some noise next time you sneak up on me?"
"Then I wouldn't be sneaking up on you, would I?"
You roll your eyes, closing the fridge behind you as you declare, "Well, I'm done here. Thanks for washing the dishes, by the way."
"Sure, I know how much you Hongs hate touching water. I was surprised you installed a faucet in your kitchen at all."
You give Wonwoo a push in response, "That's a very funny way to conceal the fact that you lost at rock paper scissors." 
"I just think it was an unfair way to decide tasks. I'm really bad at that game."
"Right, and assuming one can be good or bad at a game of rock paper scissors, what else would you have preferred to play?"
Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with an idea and then, he puts up a hand and wiggles it around in your face. "Arm wrestling."
Your smile falls, "No. That's just–"
"See," he points at you, "That's how I feel about rock paper scissors." 
Despite how much you claim that the two games are not at all on the same par, you let Wonwoo drag you to the kitchen table, standing across from you and arm ready for the wrestling. Slowly, you lean closer to him, hand coming to rest against his.
"Don't be too cocky," you mumble when his hand squeezes yours, already triumphant before the game had begun. The result of the game itself is pretty obvious but when you start to wrestle and feel Wonwoo's forearm tense against you, it has you light-headed. Your eyes leave the match to look at him, only to find him watching you with a glint in his eye. He smiles when you make eye-contact with him, going strangely silent for all his gloating a minute ago. You raise a brow at him and the bastard has the audacity to send a wink your way before pressing your arm against the wood of the table.
"Whatever," you tell him before his already obnoxious grin can swell any more. He opens his mouth and you're already anticipating something insulting to meet your eyes. But instead, Wonwoo says, "Your hand's so small." You look up at him only for him to take your hand in his and carefully line it against his own palm. 
You feel your cheeks burn. It's all so cliché, especially if he's flirting with you. Arm-wrestling turns into a hand-measuring contest. So trite. And yet, you find yourself smiling.
"See?" your hand wriggles, imitiating Wonwoo from earlier, "This game was rigged. Maybe if you had a handicap or something."
"Okay, I think I better leave before you take a knife and cut my hand up or something…"
– 
wonwoo: hello you
you: hi?
wonwoo: heard there's live music at the pub today. wanna come with?
you: ok creep
wonwoo: excuse me??? just informed you of a one in lifetime opportunity. shua's treating
you: WAIT he is???????
you: the one time i can't come?
wonwoo: you can't?
you: yes… have to attend a coworker's birthday party tonight. sorry :(
wonwoo: u should be sorry
wonwoo: imagine how much damage we could've done to joshua's wallet
You throw yourself into your sheets with a disappointed sigh, stomach uneasy at the thought of missing a hang-out with your favorite duo. But then you roll over to your side and think it's better if you go out with people who you didn't grow up with, for once. It might be a new experience. Just to be clear, this was Karina's voice resounding in your head. She had her way of giving you advice without you calling her for it. 
Three hours later, you're tiring yourself out at Mingyu's birthday party. It's intense, the party, bustling with people but then again, you'd be a fool to think Mingyu wouldn't have a roster full of friends to invite to a party. You meet the man of the night an hour into the party and he throws his hands around when he recognizes you. 
"Y/N, I'm so glad you could make it!"
"Of course. Happy birthday, Mingyu!" 
He leans over the bar and yells something at the bartender who eyes Mingyu and upon recognizing him as the birthday boy, places two shots in front of you. 
"Have a shot with me?" Mingyu grins, a slight layer of sweat shining on his forehead. You chuckle in defeat, "Sure, why not?" 
A shot turns into two and you're working on swallowing the third one when your phone buzzes in the back-pocket of your denim shorts. You're about to take a look at the caller ID and decline almost immediately but when you realize it's Wonwoo calling you, you pause. You excuse yourself from Mingyu's side quickly, making your way to a slightly quieter cornern of the party and answer.
"Wonwoo?" 
"Oh," comes Wonwoo's voice, a little distant, and he seems shocked as if he hadn't expected you to pick up. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?"
"Um. I'm fine, Wonwoo, just at that party I told you about. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. You're not too drunk, are you?" he asks, ironically slurring the question. 
"I should be asking you that question. Wonwoo, where's Joshua? Do you need me to come pick you up?"
"No," his voice is laced with disbelief, "I'm fine. Just a little tipsy. Sorry, you should get back to the party."
"Yeah," you reply, feeling a little uneasy as the liquid in your stomach sloshes around with each movement you make.
"Stay safe, Y/N. Call me if you need anything? I'm gonna go find Shua now."
Before you can ask him what he means by finding Joshua, Wonwoo's hung up on you, almost as quickly as he called you. Okay, so that was weird. And cool, now you're nauseous. 
– 
When Wonwoo drunk-calls you, he thinks he's officially lost you. If you didn't find him weird before, you probably thought him a lot weird now. That's great, he thinks. But the regret of his decision doesn't outweigh the need to see you right now, something about the fact that you're at some guy's birthday party making him all worked up. It should be obvious why he's like this but Wonwoo can avoid a serious thought for days if it keeps him slightly more sane than usual. 
But then the Joshua's bell rings and he opens the door, finding you standing there just like he'd imagined a few minutes ago. You're in a slouchy shirt that unbuttoned all the way to your mid-torso to reveal a black bikini top. He clears his throat to contain the thought that threatens to escape him: fuck, you look hot. 
"Shit," you exclaim when you see Wonwoo, "This isn't my place. Ugh. I'm stupid."
Wonwoo steps closer to you, "Are you okay, Y/N? Did you just get back?"
You nod silently and then take a step back from him. "Sorry, I'm just gonna go to the right place. You can sleep… or whatever."
"Wait, no," he rushes to your side, taking your elbow in his hand, "I'll help you."
You roll your eyes, "It's okay, I'm not drunk, Wonwoo. And by the looks of it, neither are you." But you don't push off the hand on you and simply let him follow you to your door, "Is Shua already asleep?"
"Hmm, he passed out. I don't know why he claims to be heavyweight when he can barely handle alcohol. I had force him to leave the pub before he made himself sick."
You listen intently, unlocking the door with a hum, "He's an idiot." You throw the door open and Wonwoo lets himself in after you. He's clearly not too sober because when you bend down to take of your shoes and your ass juts out dangerously close to his crotch, he almost falls over in an attempt to jump away to give you space. But he remains close just in case you stumble, his own shaky state be damned.
But you're unnervingly stable as you stand back up, taking your hand off the wall when you're done taking your shoes off and brushing them against yourself with a suspicious look thrown at him– unnerving because Wonwoo just wants an excuse to get his hands on you somehow. You're effortlessly magnetic, moving across the hall to your kitchen to pour yourself some water, still unebelievably stable, and Wonwoo follows you in a trance-like manner.
"You want something to drink?"
Your question hangs in complete silence and it's only when you look over at Wonwoo that he comprehends that you're asking him. He clears his throat again, "Um, I don't want to bother you if you want to go to bed." 
You raise a shoulder nonchalantly, "'M not sleepy. And you're here so we might as well hang." You disappear from his sight as you crouch down behind the counter, sliding open a shelf, "I have some shiraz I've been meaning to break open, if you're up for it?" 
"Oh, that sounds great actually," he replies and you reappear with two wine glasses in your hand. You beam at him and he feels a thrill down his spine, recognizing the set you'd bought with him. "Great. Go sit in the living room and I'll be right there." 
"No, I'll help you get the stuff."
You pause your movements toward the liquor shelf, "Come on, I thought it was clear I'm not drunk by now."
"I know," Wonwoo walks closer to you, picking up the glasses you'd set down earlier, "Just want to be here with you." 
You turn back around and Wonwoo doesn't know it's to hide the flush that colors your face at his confession. You spend a minute too long picking out the shiraz to recover and you're glad Wonwoo also doesn't know that you could pick the bottle of red out without actually looking. 
"Geez, I've got sand in my feet now," you complain as you take your first sip of the wine from your glass when you catch sight of the particles lodged in your toes. 
"Sand?" questions Wonwoo as he leans over to get a look. 
"Yeah, it was a beach-themed party," you tell him. He nods, thinking that your outfit makes a lot more sense now. "Mingyu's a silly guy for someone who's turning twenty-five."
"Mingyu, huh?" Wonwoo tries out the name, watching out for how you react. You don't give away much, simply taking another sip but your chest burns for reasons other than alcohol. 
"Hmm, yeah." 
"So do you like him? Joshua seems pretty convinced about it."
You hide your face against the couch, "Fuck Joshua. He's an idiot." 
"So you've said."
"No, but really. Mingyu's a sweet guy and all, but he's… not my type."
Now this is something Wonwoo can work with, relief flooding his veins at your honest reply. "What is your type?"
You meet Wonwoo's gaze for the first time in this conversation and groan again. In your head, you can't help but be burdened by how unbelievably cliché your situation is. Your brother's best friend sitting next to you swirling a glass of red wine, asking you about the guy you liked when it was clearly him you liked. In fact, you think your entire relationship with Wonwoo's always been full of clichés: falling for his charm as a youth and growing into the feelings long after, hanging out with him as grown-ups, going on dates that are left unlabelled, measuring hands with him for fuck's sake– It was a little too on the nose, you think. 
But you don't tell Wonwoo any of this, maybe because you're too scared to or maybe you'd liked to see the plot thicken a little. "I don't have a type." 
Wonwoo is surprisingly quick to leave the topic alone after that and you're thankful, but half-irked because you'd hoped for more. But you can't complain when he has you wrapped up in a completely different conversation, distracting enough that you can barely remember how you finished the wine in your glass. 
"Want a refill?" he asks you when the empty glasses have been sitting on the coffee table for long enough. 
"Mhm, I think I'll have some apple juice instead."
"As you wish." 
He doesn't even bother asking you where you keep your juice and takes off with the glasses to the kitchen. You watch him keenly, letting your heart lead your mind for a little as you take in how cozy the night is when you're in Wonwoo's company.
It's with that uncontrollable giddy smile on your face that Wonwoo catches you. 
"Happy about something?" he asks, placing a cup with golden liquid in front of you and keeping his glass of wine next to it. 
"Yeah. About everything. I'm happy."
Wonwoo smiles, arm reaching to your side and squeezing your hand in a way that leaves you thinking that you might actually like physical touch more than you've been led to think. "I like the sound of that."
Your smile only turns goofier. "What about you? Are you happy?" 
He huffs out a breathy laugh, "I'm not too bad myself. Things have been looking up recently."
Fucking fuck, even everything you say to each other sounds like it's been said before, somewhere else in an idealistic movie about two people slowly falling in love with each other. But you can't get yourself to hate the idea so you simply shift closer to him. 
Wonwoo notices, obviously, and smiles a little because he notices the light dusting of red on your cheeks. Your hair's come undone from what was presumably a low bun at the back of your head and he has an itch to brush the strands away from your face– a thought that if you were privy to would only be an addition the list titled reasons why wonwoo and you are a straight-up cliché.
But you find out soon anyway, because Wonwoo acts on the itch, hand coming to cup your face before a few fingers find the crown of your head, gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear. 
You hum in satisfaction and Wonwoo's heart hammers, thinking that is probably the best reaction he could've hoped for. He takes a sip of the wine in his hand and moves to rest his face on his fist. 
Except you intercept him mid-way, closing the space between you with a noise of surprise that Wonwoo lets out when he feels your warm lips against his. The shock causes the wine in his mouth to bleed into yours, just like you'd hoped, and before Wonwoo can act on your advance, you've already pulled back.
Your smile is warm with shyness when you notice the starstruck expression on Wonwoo's face. "Sorry, I wanted to taste the wine." 
Wonwoo's silent as he processes this, moving slower thanks to the wine in his sytsem and now– the feeling of your kiss on his mind. When he does break from the silence, he moves to take another sip of wine and this time it's him crossing over to you, big palm steadying your jaw so he can spill into you, literally and not. You let out a little noise this time, not expecting him to reciprocate your shameless move but delighted anyway as you move against his mouth. 
There's a third kiss. And you pull away with a dreamy sigh because really, this was straight out of your dreams. Wonwoo rests his head on his hand like he'd intended to about three kisses earlier and watches as you avert your gaze, suddenly bashful. You fix your gaze on the coffee table, proud that you'd finally chosen to place it opposite the couch instead of near the bookshelf. 
"I haven't dated anyone for a while, you know," Wonwoo suddenly blurts out, your hair once again in your face when you turn to face him. "I was in a pretty… fucked-up relationship after high school and that made me give up on love altogether."
You listen attentively, eyes on his as he tells about the person he was with, voice dropping to a soft octave. When he finishes you find his hands with a smile, "Thank you for telling me that. And I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than that. You're a pretty solid guy."
"Really?" Wonwoo's mood turns light again at your comment and you try to maintain your composure, reminding yourself that his smile might be casual but your words still hold weight. 
"Yeah, you're a rare find, Wonwoo. Quiet but not boring, witty yet funny, tall but nice to hug." 
You bite your lip at that last part, clearly giving yourself away. But Wonwoo's eyes light up anyway, "Nice to hug, huh? That's a new compliment. Glad to know." 
You can feel him lean closer to you without looking because his voice is closer to your ears. Flustered, you reach for your abandoned apple juice and take a sip, but overestimate your own sobriety because you manage to spill a third of it on yourself. "Fuck," you curse under your breath and throw your head back against the couch in frustration over yourself. 
"Fuck," Wonwoo echoes you, shifting beside you, "You okay? Wait here, I'll get you a towel." He's already standing up by the time you have it in you to find your footing. You stop him with a slightly damp hand on his arm.
"It's okay, I'll just go throw this in the laundry. Needed to change anyway." 
Wonwoo nods as he makes way so you can pad lightly to your room, ears adorably red. He lets out a heavy breath when you close the door behind you though, placing a hand against chest because the sight of your half-exposed chest slightly wet with juice– well, it was doing more things to him that he'd like. Your low expletive followed by your limp body hadn't helped his wild imagination either, instantly wondering what it might be like to run his hands through– 
"All right, that's it. I need some fresh air." Fresh air so he could feel less like a pervert and more like… normal. And it helps to step out onto your balcony, the scenery of the moonlit night a pleasant surprise to his senses. He hums happily, almost forgetting about his preoccupied thoughts entirely.
And then he hears your voice resound in the living room faintly. He calls out your name, telling you to come out to the balcony, and a minute later, you step out, now clad in a cozy night set, matching blue shirt with shorts. "Hey," you mumble as you join him near the railing, body visibly relaxing in the night air. "Woah, it's nice here."
"It is, isn't it?" 
"Yeah, this is actually my first time coming out here since I moved in. I always figured this place would be full of spider webs and like bird shit." 
Wonwoo chuckles, "I mean we're probably standing on something that's not supposed to be here but it's for us to worry about tomorrow." 
– 
When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a good amount of groaning and screaming to figure out if last night was real. Taking shots with Mingyu at his birthday bash? Understandable. Receiving a call from a self-proclaimed tipsy Wonwoo? Confusing but not impossible. Inviting Wonwoo over for wine and ending up making out with him? Insane. 
What's worse, you couldn't really remember how the night had ended, a consequence of your inebriated self combining with sleep deprivation. But that was a pretty important thing to remember, wasn't it? It could be difference between a regretful farewell and a promising one. You don't know which one would ease the storm in your stomach faster. 
You roll over to unlock your phone and sit up when you see you have two unread texts. And then, you see they're both from Mingyu. 
mingyu: thanks for coming last night :D
mingyu: sorry i couldn't see u out. hope you made it home safe! 
You sigh in barely contained disappointment as you throw your phone back into the sheets, looking up at the ceiling. You suppose you ought to do something about the Mingyu situation soon but right now, you find the idea of suffocating in your bedsheets for the next two hours much more comforting. 
– 
See now, this right here is your problem. As much as you complained about hating being a cliché, you kind of wish your situation with Wonwoo was more of a cliché because right now doesn't exactly feel like something out of a film.
It feels like hard cold reality. And it's not the first time either.
1: things will happen between you and Wonwoo: he holds your hand, he kisses your lips.
2: he doesn't text you about it and you're too much of a coward to force him out of his shell.
3: things end up all in the air. And now, you're miserable.
But later that evening, you find out there's more to this list of not-so-cliché things that happen between you and Wonwoo.
4: you run into Wonwoo at your brother's place.
He's so casual, too, dressed in a plaid shirt and lounging on Joshua's couch, gaming his time away. You almost immediately regretting making an impromptu trip to your brother's place but it's too late to back out because Joshua's already set the dinner table for three. How you despise your extroverted, loving brother. 
"Did you make that deadline you were complaining about yesterday?" Joshua asks you over a spoonful of his soup. You nod, "Yeah, turns out it was easier when I stopped whining about it."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, earning him a look from you which you quickly retract, going back to your quiet self when the two engage in conversation. You're glad to ignore but they find it less than easy to, given how unusual your disengagement is. Wonwoo does have an idea for your mood but he doesn't feel like discussing it with your brother just yet. 
So when Joshua asks him, "Do you know what's up with her?" when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Wonwoo stiffens. Why was he asking Wonwoo? … Had he been obvious?
"Dunno. Maybe work's busy or something."
"You think I should go pester her with some ice-cream later tonight?" 
 "Best if you don't do that. She might disown you."
"That's like legally impossible, Wonwoo. Right?" 
When you take an unexpectedly long time in the bathroom, Joshua goes on. "Did something happen between you two?"
Again, Wonwoo tenses up. "...No. Why do you ask?"
"I mean, she seemed fine yesterday when she came over. So I don't think I'm the problem here. Not that I'm accusing you of anything. Just… I know y'all have been bonding recently."
Wonwoo averts his gaze, deeply uncomfortable with this chat. "Um, yeah, I guess."
"Listen, man, I don't mean to take on the older brother tone in this conversation or anything but…" Joshua sighs as he plays with a leftover piece of bread, "You know I'm okay if something does happen with you and her, right? I trust you. And well, she was an adult long before me so I hardly have a say there."
Wonwoo stares at his half-empty glass of water, frowning. "Okay, cool." His answer is curt because he's still caught off-guard by this conversation. He'd wanted to bring up the developments between you himself, in his own way, but this left him a little panicked. Like, he was being rushed to make a move. And his brain ended up shutting down in the process.
…but it really wasn't the best time for his malfunction, given that you'd managed to overhear a good half of that conversation, specifically on the Joshua asking Wonwoo about you and him being indifferent about it. What was he thinking? What were you thinking?
5: you storm out of dinner without an explanation. you pretend you don't hear wonwoo call after you when you do. his texts that night go unanswered. 
How's that for a cliché, huh?
– 
These days, you're trying find the joy in small things. Like waking up to your very first alarm for the morning. Or brewing an especially aromatic coffee at home. 
Like making it to the end of a phone-call with Karina without talking about Wonwoo. 
"Oh, wait, before I forget to ask, how did it go with Wonwoo?"
Almost. 
You take a deep breath to steady yourself, "Not too well. I mean, we kissed. But then, he didn't text me for like three days after. Then I run into him at Joshua's and he acts all… cold. And judging by that one conversation I overheard, he thinks everything that happened between us was a mistake." 
"Okay, okay, hold your horses, friend, I feel like a lot happened there. You kissed? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?!" Karina sounds genuinely upset and you let out a groan.
"Well, I was trying to stop bringing up Wonwoo every time we catch up. It's annoying and I want to hear more about your life than complain about mine."
"We can both complain about our lives, Y/N. I have all the time in the world. At least till six. Anyway, that's besides the point! You kissed but he ghosted you afterward? And did he actually say he thought it was all a mistake?"
You bite your lip in rumination and then admit, "He didn't actually say that but it was implied. You would agree if you'd heard the same conversation as I!"
As it turns out, Karina doesn't seem to approve of the conclusion you've come to all on your own. But then you point out that it's been over a week and it's been radio silence. So you have every right to feel as hurt as you do. 
"I suppose you do. But still, it wouldn't hurt to approach him first." 
"I would rather die."
"Okay, well, maybe find out how he's doing from Joshua?"
"Will not."
"You're being difficult right now, Y/N. What do you want to do then?"
"I want to move on and not think about Wonwoo. Maybe I should go on a blind date or something."
"We're not in a movie right now, man, plus, I'm pretty sure you were the one who swore your life to finding love organically and whatnot."
"...Gah, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that. Fine, I'll do… something." 
Your words are nothing if not misleading because by something, you don't mean to communicate with Wonwoo like a sane person might. Instead you check up on Mingyu, who you've still been succesfully making small talk at work with, and ask him if he wanted to get dinner. The enthusiasm with which he responds is comforting, a relieving contrast from the tension in your relationship with you-know-who. 
mingyu: omg i woud love to
mingyu: but im unfortuntely busy tonight :((((
mingyu: would you be down for tomorrow? i can make some killer spaghetti if given the opportunity
you: make???? i was thinking of buying the food… but i won't turn that offer down
mingyu: i'm a man of many talents ;) 
You work out the details of the date (neither of you call it that, but it's understood to be one) over the night and you feel a little uneasy as the afternoon of the day comes to a close. Either way, you find a comfortable dress that is flattering against your skin and welcome Mingyu into your place, letting his excitement work its contagious magic. 
If you're following the plot line of this story closely, you'd figure out that the next cliché is this: Wonwoo behind the door across from your home, just now learning about this date of yours with Mingyu. 
He's broken his pledge to himself and asked Joshua about you, after having missed seeing you there for the past week. Joshua had hesitated to respond but is honest anyway, muttering, "I think she has a date over."
"A date?" is Wonwoo instantaneous question, barely-concealed dread underlying in its tone. 
"Yeah, remember that guy from work whose birthday she attended?" Joshua pretends to have forgotten his name but his best friend is quick to chime in, "Mingyu?"
But you'd told him he was just a friend. You'd called him sweet for fuck's sake, and that was the most platonic adjective you could use for a potential love interest. Well, he's been proven wrong by your date tonight.
He looks down at his clasped palms, the same ones that were intertwined with your skin, first the skin of your hands, then your cheek when he'd leaned into kiss you. And if he hadn't spent the last four days regretting every minute he didn't call you up, he sure did want to punch a hole in the fabric of time right about now. 
"You okay there, buddy?" 
Joshua's concern brings Wonwoo back to his body and he looks up, lips pursed and your brother thinks how ridiculous it is that both of you won't just talk it out. But he keeps that judgement to himself, choosing to sit back and watch his best friend pace it out. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine. Really fine. I'm okay." He clears his throat, the first tell. "I'm just… um, a little hot. It's hot in here, huh." 
Joshua tames his bemused smile. "Is it? I just turned up the air-con though?"
"Oh, well, it's just me then. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, um, I love this video game."
"Wonwoo, we were in the middle of choosing a card game to play."
"Fuck. Okay, sorry, just give me a minute, I need to go call… my mother."
"No worries, my guy, give Mrs. Jeon my greetings!" 
Across the hall, you're busy watching over Mingyu as he makes his way around your kitchen. You say watching over because really, the man is so clumsy in his own feet, you wonder how he's lived this long. You have to make sure he doesn't cut a limb off every two seconds.
But then your phone buzzes urgently in your pocket and you pull it out, the light smile playing on your face falling when Wonwoo's name pops up on your screen. Now he texts you?
wonwoo: hey! you think we could talk?
You lock your screen almost as soon as you read the message because honestly, you don't have time to dwell over this man in your phone when there's a whole another person cooking you dinner in front of you. That's what ends up leaving a heartbroken Wonwoo, slumped on Joshua's couch as he barely zones into the movie that was playing on the screen. 
Joshua's had it with sitting around when Wonwoo stays unmoving throughout the ending credits– the man hates the credits for crying out loud!-- and instead decides to play cupid. It wasn't ideal, having to set up his sister with his best friend but well, any commoner could see how clearly you were meant to be with each other and he'd rather not have to listen to both sides' misery. 
It's okay timing, you've finished eating dinner with Mingyu, showering his food with compliments the whole time and flustering with your genuine shock at his abilities the whole night. He's helping you clean up with a cheeky grin on his face whenever he leans in a little too close to place a utensil back in its place and you let a smile overtake your face. But you can barely let yourself enjoy the date because if Wonwoo ill-timed text wasn't enough, you're done for when both him and Joshua show up at your door.
"What the fuck?" you ask your brother because you're positive you told him you had a date tonight and then you spot a spaced out Wonwoo next to him, and suddenly put two and two together. 
Wonwoo's eyes never leave your figure, taking in how beautiful the blue dress you were wearing was and how you'd put your hair up in a half-bun, a few strands framing your face prettily. He feels sick, first in a good way and then Mingyu pops up behind you, and now Wonwoo's sick in a bad way. The tall man looks so comfortable next to you, arm brushing against yours as he raises his eyebrows in confusion at the two intruders.
"Sorry, Gyu, these are…" you start to introduce them as they are and then, find a particularly provoking way to put it, "...my brothers."
Wonwoo might actually throw up right here and right now. Gyu? Brothers???
Joshua butts in quickly, "Well, technically, I'm Y/N's older brother, and this is Wonwoo, my friend."
"Ohhh," Mingyu nods in understanding, bowing when he realizes Joshua's your sibling, "Nice to meet you. I'm Mingyu and I work with Y/N."
Before you know it, Joshua works his charms on Mingyu and suddenly, date night for two turns into family night for four. You watch in dismay as your date spends a full hour talking to your brother about one thing and another, actually considering setting them up for a minute. And then, Mingyu glances at his watch and sighs, telling you he needs to take off. 
Joshua, devil incarnate, offers to walk Mingyu out and before you can protest, Mingyu accepts (????) and you watch helplessly as your brother leaves you alone with Wonwoo, narrowly missing the pointed look Joshua sends his best friend on his way out. 
The room now silent with them gone, you stand up with a wary sigh, patting down your dress. Wonwoo's watching and you know because the first words he says that evening are, "You look beautiful tonight."
You hate how the heat creeps up your neck immediately at his beck and call. But you keep from telling him off because even that would mean you caving in. 
But then he follows you to the kitchen, steps in tandem as you pretend to busy yourself with the dishes. The space between you is small though and you end up bumping into the man trying to reach for the fridge. He takes the chance and holds your wrist in his hand. "Hey," he breathes, "You won't even look at me?" 
"No, I've seen enough."
"I'm assuming that includes the text I sent you tonight. And the ones before that?"
God, you hate how good Wonwoo is at frustrating you. You snap, "Don't act like this is on me, Wonwoo. You're the one who pretends like nothing's happened between us." 
"Really? Because a lot's happened between us, Y/N. A lot of things that haven't happened with you and that Mingyu." 
You scoff, brushing his hand off your wrist. "That is so typical of you. Coming around because you're jealous? But you can't stand to tell my brother something happened between us? What is this, a game to you?"
Wonwoo freezes when he considers what you've said. "Did Shua say something to you?"
You cross your arms, "No. I overheard you telling him. I can't believe it though. I really thought we had something good going for us."
You break away from the arm that Wonwoo raises to keep you close and throw yourself onto your couch with an exasperated sniffle. This couch sure has seen a lot, you think wistfully, silently listening as Wonwoo's footsteps came closer. He's sitting next to you then, hesitant arm around you.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm really sorry. What you heard was… me being an idiot. I wasn't ready to talk about it with Shua so soon. I meant everything happened so fast. I hadn't exactly planned on falling for my best friend's sister, you know? Or kissing her in her apartment either. But it happened and I'm so glad it did. I was just slow at processing it. I'm sorry."
You groan. "It's not completely your fault, I guess. I just wish you would've talked to me about it. I felt so alone the whole time." 
Suddenly Wonwoo's moving up from next to you and dropping onto his knees so that you're now meeting his eyes. He looks concerned, mouth ajar as he takes your hands in his. "Are you with Mingyu?"
You let out a sound of disbelief, "No! I'm– I just called him over because I was mad at you! I thought you thought it was a mistake so I…"
"I don't. And I never did. I'm just scared. But I shouldn't have made that your problem. I love hanging out with you though and I especially love kissing you. It would be great if you'd let me take you out on a date instead, please?" 
And in that moment with Wonwoo on his knees in front of you, looking at you like you'd just told him he would live forever, you don't think you could do anything but say yes. 
– 
"You think we're a cliché?!" 
You flinch at Wonwoo's shocked question after you'd revealed to him the mental list of clichés that you embodied in your relationship with him. He's nearly seething when he finds out you're not joking. 
"Y/N, you know that's the meanest thing you could ever say to me? Am I really that bad a boyfriend?"
"Woo, my love, will you calm down?" you take one of his hands in yours, "I don't think clichés are as bad as you think they are. They're cliché for a reason! It's because they're meant to be done over and over again. They're tried and true."
"Tried and trite, more like."
"Come on, Woo, you can't act like you don't see it! From the very beginning!" 
He takes a lick at his gelato and you smile when you see him softening a little. You stop walking and stand in his way, barely concerned about the strangers littering the small ice-cream shop when you press a kiss to his lips. "I love you," you mumble against his ice-cold mouth. He shoots you a look that informs you that he knows what you're doing but he shoots back, " I love you, too."
"And love itself is cliché, don't you think?"
Wonwoo closes his eyes as if in physical pain while you uncontrollably laugh. "I knew I shouldn't have fallen for that! You're trying to make me cry in public, aren't you?"
"Aww, it's okay to cry, Woo, baby. Emotions are only natural–"
"I'm calling Shua and asking him to pick you up. I'm leaving."
"Okay, I went too far. Don't make me commute with my brother, I beg you."
– 
"Love, you ready to go?" you hear Wonwoo ask from the living room. You'd banished him to the couch after he'd made it his life mission to get in your way while you tried to get ready for your date. Well, double date actually. Karina was visiting you on break with her boyfriend, Taeyong, and she'd asked if you'd be down to get dinner with them. You had never agreed to dinner plans faster. 
"I am," you call back, just as you smear on lipstick, checking your teeth for any missed food particles for good measure. "Can I come in now?" 
You can see Wonwoo's silhouette at the door, gingerly watching you from the back for confirmation. You melt with a soft smile, beckoning him in, "Yes. Your exile's over."
Wonwoo celebrates with an exaggerated fist pump and you laugh at his antics when he skips over excitedly. "I'm a free man," he murmurs as his hands naturally slide down your arms to find your fingers. He twirls you around, admiring the black dress you broke out for the ocassion. "You look gorgeous," he says with a kiss to your cheeks.
"Are you quoting Taylor Swift at me?" you ask him with a giggle.
"Who's that?" he questions with a poorly feigned frown of confusion. You roll your eyes but open your arms invitingly, "Will you hug me?" 
Hugging had gradually become your favorite part of your skinship with Wonwoo, even more so than kissing, because the way he would shoot you a loving smile before wrapping his arms around and swallowing you into a world of cozy and comfort… yeah, you don't think anything could compare easily. Sometimes, he would hum happily, the vibrations would only soothing you into the embrace further and often your boyfriend had to peel you off him so you could actually get on with your day. 
Today, he lets you cling on longer than usual (he likes to say he's rationing his hugs. You tell him he's just a big tease), probably because he's busy relishing in being overwhelmed by your scent and the little kisses you sprinkle across his exposed neck. When he pulls away, you don't complain like normal, instead revealing the stars in your eyes to him. "You're warm. I love this sweater of yours." 
It was the same navy sweater that had you sweating over Wonwoo back when you were still going back and forth with your feelings for each other. He chuckles in amusement and then steps away without warning, earning a whine from you. But then he tugs the sweater off and your expressions turns playful. 
"Woo," you start warningly, "you know we're meeting them at the restaurant by nine–"
You're stopped mid-sentence when Wonwoo straightens out his garment and commands out, "Raise your arms for me, baby?"
But this is not his bedroom voice, no, no. This is his sappy voice and you already know what he's doing when he pulls the sweater over your head and down your torso. "It looks cute," Wonwoo comments by the time you have the sleeves pulled down properly. 
"You know I hate that word, Woo," you complain but he doesn't let you, pecking your forehead. You sigh in defeat and admire the sweater in the mirror, the fabric sitting surprisingly well against the skirt of your dress. You shrug, "I suppose I can work with this new outfit."
"If not, I can always just take it off for you–"
"Okay, we're leaving before you say another word!" 
Wonwoo laughs as he lets you pull him out after you, out the living room and into the hallway. He stands next to you, hands in his pocket while he waits for you to lock the door and glances at Joshua's door, wondering what his best friend was up to. You don't give a chance to do something about it though because your hands back on his arm in no time – and he swears you touch his arm for reasons beyond appropriate but you'd rather die than admit to it– and walk into the night. 
You meet Karina at a place called Love in the Air and Wonwoo's had listen to you go on, super smug, about how beautifully cliché the name and ambience of the restaurant is. Each dish has a romantic origin, like the shall I compare thee to a summer's day cocktail that Karina and Taeyong share, down to the lipstick-shaped bottles of wine served to your table. And as much as Wonwoo pretends to hate the cliché of love, he still orders the matching Valentine's soup as you just so you can watch his order come out in surprise. 
And as much as Wonwoo pretends he doesn't love the cliché of love, when you lean into his arm at the end of the night, already dozing off when he runs his fingers through your scalp, he can't help but let his heart soar with affection for you. And he thinks he would, after all, be in a cliché if it means to end up in your arms night after night. 
--
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
hiii oh my god why is this fic actually long!!! i wrote in like a day too so i'm just confused... it was 3k a minute and then 29 pages the other?? that's just wonwoo magic or smth i guess... this was requested and i hope the anon who asked for this enjoys it!!! writing it made a lil sick because of how sappy it is but ... it is what it is.
and consider this me admitting that i wouldn't mind having joshua be my brother... and that's just the flavor of parasocial relationship i'm dealing with these days lol
as always: lots of love to all friends and foes !!
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muddyorbsblr · 1 month
Text
ill-intentioned "compliments"
Drabbles Masterlist See my full list of works here!
Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)
Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)
Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining
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"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.
"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."
He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."
"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."
"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.
"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."
Your words took him aback. "Truly?"
"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."
You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"
"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.
Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.
"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.
"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"
"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"
"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.
"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"
"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"
Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."
"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.
"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."
"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.
Or kiss you.
"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."
For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."
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A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
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poppadom0912 · 6 months
Text
FBI
Characters: Kelly Severide x Reader, half of firehouse 51
Warnings: Brief mentions of a crime idk.
Summary: This wasn't exactly what they were thinking when an fbi agent strolled into their firehouse.
A/N: I had such a nice plan for this little beauty but then I messed up and then I remembered I had homework due tomorrow that I haven't done so please enjoy this ugly piece of writing. Kinda don't want to publish this but I need to feed you lot before I get swamped in holiday homework.
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"Hey, I'm looking for a Kelly Severide."
You said, asking the first person you found. It was your first time in the firehouse and this definitely wasn't how you planned it to be but you could make this work.
"Lieutenant Kelly Severide?" The woman rose her brow, her voice coming across as soft as she looked. You couldn't deny she was pretty and taking into account her blonde hair and the word paramedic on her uniform caused your brows to rise ever so slightly.
"Oh! You must be Sylvie Brett." You smiled, holding out your hand for the paramedic to shake which she did with much confusion and slight fear. "Agent Y/N Y/L/N."
"You work for the fbi." She stated, fidgeting with her fingers once your hands were released. It was clear she was shocked and you could understand why; your gun in its holster, your shiny golden badge and the bold yellow letters printed on the back of your government issued jacket.
"Yes I do." You replied with a tight lipped smile, annoyed that your job was the first impression everyone at the firehouse would be getting from you; these men and women were family to Kelly and greeting them for the first time ever in your uniform wasn't what you wanted.
Before Sylvie could fully shake off her shock, someone butted into the conversation, having spotted and recognising you.
"Y/N, you're back." Matt smiled, his arms wide inviting your for a hug which you immediately accepted. The captain was the one person in Kelly's life that knew of your existence since there was no hiding you from his roomate, especially since your stay became more permanent.
The hug was what caught everyone's attention. Sylvie talking to someone was normal but Matt hugging a stranger wasn't, hence all the heads turning and when all their eyes widened, you weren't surprised.
"Feds." Two men whispered in sync upon laying eyes on you, the others stood out of their seats and came around to you in the middle of the common room.
"What do the feds want with us now?" One man asked, crossing his arms with an attitude that you could smell from a mile away. Maybe it was his accent or it could've been his snarky tone which got him a quick reprimand from the captain but you knew his name.
"Christopher Herrmann, right?" You pointed at him, your smile brightening when he did a double take at the name you guessed correct.
"It's probably creepy that I know all your names and I really wished that we could've met under better circumstances but I will explain everything." You said, sheepishly smiling at the very confused group of firefighters.
"Y/N! What are you doing here?" Kelly noticed you from afar, it was hard not to recognise the three yellow letter the second he turned the corner.
Within seconds, Kelly enveloped you into his arms and despite the reputation that you wanted to maintain, you folded and accepted the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist, contently inhaling the comforting scent that always followed your boyfriend.
"Okay I'm sorry but who are you?"
"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You replied automatically, not even thinking about leaving out the agent. Biting the inside of your lip, you internally cursed at yourself.
"She's my girlfriend." Kelly smirked, his arm happily resting across your shoulders where he could keep you close to him. "Whose actually supposed to be in Texas right about now, what happened?"
"Everything's fine. We apprehended our guy earlier than expected and there might've been a gunfight and there's a small possibility I was in the middle but a graze is nothing." You said with ease since it was your job and you loved everything it entailed but to your crowd, you seemed like a lunatic and a hero combined in one.
"You're kidding." Kelly looked down at you in concern, his heart rate picking up at the mere thought of you getting hurt, even if you brushed it off as a papercut.
Before you could explain further that a graze inflicted zero pain, a man you could name purely based off the aura that surrounded him entered the common room.
"Agent, what can we do for you?" The tallest man came forward and asked, his hands shaking yours before they were on his hips. From his stance and the way his voice was so gentle but commandeering made it easy for you to deduce his position in the firehouse; it also helped that Kelly continuously boasted about the men and women of 51.
"I'm sorry for interrupting your day chief." You firstly apologised, sheepishly smiling at the firefighters who were shocked at Kelly's arm still wrapped around your waist. "I need nothing but a few minutes with lieutenant Severide and I'll be out your hair."
"Don't be silly." Kelly shook his head, looking down at you with a slight frown. "Why don't you stay for lunch, you can't just appear out of nowhere and not eat with us."
"I have so much paperwork I left behind. My boss will have my throat if they're not done." You tried fighting Kelly but he looked at you with such big eyes that you wanted to drown yourself in and a slight pout was making itself known and before you knew it, you were caving in.
"Alright, just a few bites and then I have to go."
It was safe to say, some feds were okay.
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manjiroscum · 1 year
Text
MARRY? KILL? FUCK!
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CHARACTER/S: Bonten
WARNINGS: f!reader, explicit sex, mature language, threesome, a bit of slut shaming, bonten just being bonten, doggystyle, full nelson, protected sex (use of pills), creampie, just a lot of filth :p, sanzu's a bit of an asshole, strip game, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.
NOTE: hi! here is the third fic for the collection :) took a lot of time bc uni and life got too hectic huhu anyway, i hope you enjoy it! (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)♪
MASTERLIST
SYNOPSIS: Another slow day at work meant more shenanigans to occur. Haruchiyo Sanzu was adamant to cause trouble and to have you bent over the desk for everyone to see.
WC: 1k
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The chances of being shot in the head by Bonten’s notorious pink-haired assailant had a much lower probability of happening than the wine bottle never landing on you. The whole ordeal wouldn't have been daunting if it were a normal truth-or-dare game. But of course, the rest of Bonten’s higher-ups were bored out of their minds and suggested a little twist in the game. It was either you picked truth or dare and did them… Or avoid it and strip. Lips in a grim line, you ignored the drunken hollers by the Haitani brothers as you unbuttoned your blouse. There was no way in hell you would admit that you slept with Takeomi in Mikey’s office due to a bet you made with Rindou.
No way in hell.
Curse these bastards for inviting you, their ever-lovely secretary, to this stupid game when you could've gone home early since Mikey wasn't around. When the big cat wasn't around to intimidate, every rotten mouse was up to play. And play, they did. Sanzu was even more adamant about making you answer the most difficult questions because it was fun to torment you especially now that you were only clad in your stockings, pencil skirt, underwear, and bra.
“Seriously, this game must be rigged!” You sat back down, brows furrowed and unaware of the lingering gazes on your supple breasts covered by a lace bra. “Most of you guys haven't even stripped much. Why am I getting the craziest dares and questions, huh?”
This was definitely to teach you a lesson not to get ahead with yourself thinking you can best these men in a game. As much as you knew their dirty secrets within the organization, they too, knew yours. What made them annoyingly frustrating to deal with was how they utilized it to bring you to your knees.
“Alright then,” Rindou rubbed his hands as if he has foreseen the future when the bottle pointed at you and him. Fighting back the urge to slap yourself for joining this stupid game, you listened as he gave you the options. “Truth or dare, princess. What do you choose?”
To use your answers against you was what Sanzu Haruchiyo and Haitani Rindou were begrudgingly good at. This tactic had you stripping your pencil skirt when you refused to answer the question Rindou gave you and the dare option was as equally brazen. Perhaps after a few more rounds, you were sure you would exit the building all nude. However, just as you were about to spill your woes, the pink-haired man got up and instantly pulled you from your seat without breaking a sweat. The next thing you know, you were bent over Mikey’s desk. Eyes wide, you blinked twice.
“W-what the—”
“Why won’t you answer the simple question, sweetheart? We’re not gonna kill ‘ya if your pussy decides it likes me better than Ran.”
“Sanzu, you dick, I heard that!”
The scars on either side of his lips stretched as he grinned down at your vulnerable form, his hard-on pressed against your ass that was too difficult to ignore. Wishing for it to go away would be stupid to do as well.
“I mean, aren’t you curious boys? A simple question as to who she wants to kill, marry or fuck isn’t something that’ll cause us to slit each other's throats. A slut like her should be shared by us.” Pulling back, Sanzu stepped aside for everyone to see your ass still clad in your panties. But not for long as he hooked his finger and pulled down the lacy thong, tongue tucked between his lips as he did so.
Such an obedient thing you were, spouting for him to stop yet doing nothing to make him halt in his actions. A few of the men swallowed hard at the sight of your bare ass and damp pussy lips, aching to fill your holes.
“Gonna ask you one last time, sweetheart. Be a dear and answer Rin’s question. He thought long and hard about it, you see.” Ignoring the huff the younger Haitani made, Sanzu smirked. “Fuck, marry, kill? Unless of course, you’re such a big slut that you want to fuck us all?”
The safest answer you took was what led you to be on all fours, Ran’s cock in your mouth and Sanzu thrusting his from behind. Rindou’s thick fingers were busy toying with your nipples as Kakucho rubbed himself to the sinful scene in front of him. Milky semen coated your back, belonging to the brothers and Kakucho after being coaxed by Sanzu to see who has the thickest load that will definitely knock you up. You ignored their silly banter, trusting the pill you religiously took. The air conditioner in Mikey’s office was either broken or was blowing cold air quite poorly due to how hot your flesh felt against their cool skin. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoed around, driving you all insane. Your eyes rolled back at Sanzu’s long cock hitting that favorite spot of yours.
They continued to switch positions, adamant for everyone to have at least a turn inside your cum-filled pussy. You felt your lower stomach bloat up at how much semen was inside. The game and wine bottle were forgotten, replaced with a much more engaging game where nobody loses. This was what you’ve always wanted, a secret you’ve kept to yourself. And now that it was happening, perhaps the teasing at the strip game earlier was worth going through.
“Too bad Takeomi and Mikey are missing out on this cunt.”
“Nah, the old man would probably complain about his back and Mikey’s not interested whenever we’re around.”
“Hey, Kaku, she’s blacking out. Wake her up.”
Kakucho hoisting you up and doing the standing full nelson position wasn’t something you anticipated. Everyone was amazed at how much of their cum spilled out when he thrust his thick cock inside your weeping pussy, your teeth gritted at the tight fit. He has always been the biggest of them, rendering you a bit dizzy as he pistoned his hips. Not minding your fucked up state, Sanzu bent down to be on eye level with you, a grin on his pretty face.
“What do you say after we grant your wish, sweetheart?”
“T-thank, a-ah, hu…♡”
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taglist: @imkumichan @pyrsqrd @ploylulla @wakaslut @ranilingus @tobidabio @zuuki @leavemealonebutinpink @kamisoria @wakasa-wifey @keijisprettygirl @marism-tr @stffychn @manjirousagi @tokyometronetwork
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sad-drake-lyrics · 9 months
Text
what my 65yo father has to say about antis:
let me preface this by saying, i literally wish i had what just happened on video to go viral on TikTok. i was shook by this conversation down to my bones; and if you could see my father - a loud old Italian man with dramatic hand gestures - say what he had to say, i think this shit would blow up. but as i was obviously not filming him while we were eating, i will have to relay to you the story with my words.
so i'm sitting eating dinner at the coffee table with my father while watching TV, as Americans often do instead of eating at the dinner table, and since the news was on he started telling me this story that had been recently mentioned on TV once again from maybe ten years ago (it was in 2014, you can read about it here) where these two 12-year-old girls killed one of their friends as a sacrifice to the Slender Man. yeah, real thing. fucked up.
and so my father told me about how they interviewed one of the killer's mothers, and when questioned about where her daughter's motive could've come from, she said something along the lines of: you know, when i was a kid, i was into Stephen King and horror - and so when my kid was into that kind of stuff, i didn’t think it was a big deal.
so, of course, my response was "yeah, being into that stuff isn’t a big deal at all - it's normal - but being a sociopath and murdering someone is not normal; it's fucked up. but there's nothing wrong with being into horror stories - they're just stories meant to entertain - it doesn't make you a murderer to enjoy Halloween - but it would if you put on a Michael Myers mask and went out and stabbed people." and, of course, like any sane person, my father agreed with me.
then, continuing this line of conversation, i started talking about the concept of how "fiction isn’t reality," and how a frightening amount of people don't understand that; and i literally started telling him about antis - people on the internet who attack and harass others over "problematic" or "inappropriate" fictional interests.
i used well-known pop culture examples like: if you're into Game of Thrones and like Jaime and Cersei together or wanted Jon and Daenerys to end up together (i didn't think he would process the term "shipping," but clearly by the end of this conversation i think i was wrong), that people (antis) will say things like "you should die," and that you "support inc*st in real life," and that "you're disgusting."
i also used the examples of "toxic relationships" in pop culture, like the Joker and Harley Quinn, or Kylo Ren and Rey, and how if you’re into those kinds of fictional relationships that people (antis) will say that you "support toxic relationships," and that you are "glorifying abuse," and that it all "must be what you really want and believe is right or good."
and my fucking 65-year-old father literally goes: "I don’t understand. It’s a TV show. Don't they know it’s fake?"
queue my jaw dropping to the fucking ground because i'm like. YES. THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT PRO-SHIPPERS ARE TRYING TO SAY AND THESE PEOPLE DON'T GET IT.
he was flabbergasted, my pals. the shock in his eyes was incredible to behold.
and, oh boy, that isn't even the best part, guys.
my father then says, "Don’t tell me it’s like that with anime too?"
and i said, "it's worse with anime."
and i fucking swear to you - no joke, on my life and baby Jesus' cradle - again my 65-year-old father looks at me and says, “It’s a fucken cartoon."
... ... ...
... i can't ...
i can't end this post better than that.
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halucynator · 8 months
Text
YOU COULD'VE DIED!
So I had this request and I totally forgot about it and I'm so so so so so so so sorry lol
Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader
Warnings: mentions of weight, anxiety attacks, eating disorder, reader has adhd, not proof read and my writing lol
Request: So the reader a long time ago like when she was eighth/9ish used to be on the bigger side before her adhd meds and then got really skinny and stuff and timeskip to sixth year her meds don’t really work aswelll so she starts getting an appetite that was usually suppressed and she quit quidditch last year because of stress and her biggest fear is secretly getting fat again and she starts to have so much anxiety about it
WARNING: I am in no way shaming any one in this text. You are beautiful the way you are. I'm just adhering to the request. I do not agree with anything horrible about weight or anything else you can think of that is in this text.
I'm also really really sorry if you go through eating disorders or something similar to what's mentioned in this text x stay strong xx you're not alone 💕
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Most people have nightmares about psycho killers in white masks with a knife who are really crazily into fictional movies they try to make it reality. Most people have nightmares about falling from really high cliffs with jagged edges that could rip you in half quicker than the speed of the platform 9¾'s train. Most people have nightmares about burning in fires that could kill you probably faster than the Dursleys burnt Harry's hogwarts letters.
But not you. You had nightmares about gaining weight. About being the girl that you were when you were nine. You hated your ADHD but oh those adhd meds really helped you to stop being the obese person you were. You were disgusted by your younger self even though you shouldn't have been.
You sat in the Great Hall processing your nightmare. You knew you had a normal weight, probably even lower than healthy. And yet you looked around at all those pretty girls with effortless hourglass bodies and wished you could look like them. You knew you had a normal weight and yet your dreams, or perhaps nightmares, kept on taunting you about it.
Those thoughts clouded your mind. Filled your head. Over and over. And over. Until you felt like starving yourself. And you'd do that until you fainted and realised it's really unhealthy. But then it'd be too late and this vicious cycle continued until you felt like you couldn't do it anymore. Until you were sick of being yourself. Until you wished you were anyone but yourself. Until y-
"Hey y/n!" Theo greeted you as he entered the Great Hall. He was the first one there. After you of course. He grabbed a vanilla cupcake with strawberry icing and sprinkles for himself and a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing for you.
"here I got you a chocolate cupcake with chocolate icing. Your favourite." Theo smiled as he passed it on to you.
Even though your heart wanted to accept it, your brain knew better.
"no I'm fine, really! Thanks so much though! I'm full" you replied. as if to reprimand you, your stomach rumbled.
"your stomach disagrees" he chuckled. "go on have it it's fine it's just a cupcake"
You knew he was trying to be a good friend. You knew he was looking out for you at yet it was so hard for you to suppress the urge to scream "just a cupcake? JUST A CUPCAKE?! well, I'll have you know that cupcake contains sugar and butter which stores in your body as fat so you wouldn't even suggest it unless you hated me" you obviously didn't say it out loud. You knew you were overreacting in your head.
"erm no thanks." You politely turned the offer of the cupcake down.
"Ya sure?" He asked one last time.
"yup." You replied.
"alright suit yourself" Blaise said as he leaned across the table to get the cupcake from your side.
You didn't have dinner that night and the couple of nights after either. You knew you should've. But you were so insecure about your weight you just couldn't. So you didn't. And you should've. You really should've.
Unfortunately for you, you realised that too late.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。*:☆
You woke up on a white bed. Where were you? You glanced around. There was no way. You were in a hospital bed. After Theo explained it to you, you realised what had happened. On your way to the dorm you had fainted due to the lack of food. You had no energy left in your body and it finally gave out. Theo had realised you had fainted and had carried you to the Madam Pomfrey's. He looked strangely cross at you.
"T-thanks" you replied to him.
"for what?" He said. "I couldn't save you."
"you kinda did" you said smiling at him.
He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. It was a cookie.
Before you could say no, he cut you off.
"you are eating this cookie right now or I will never forgive myself for letting you starve yourself."
You reluctantly grabbed the cookie.
"you didn't make me starve myself. I did it to myself. It's not your fault." You replied as you broke a piece off the cookie.
"but why?" He asked.
"sorry?"
"why did you starve yourself"
"erm i well i had a nightmare I was gaining weight and I thought I was I had gained half a kilogram since last year and I just thought I'd look ugly and I just didn't want to not be liked by anyone!" there it was. The word vomit. The bundle of feelings inside of you all out to the one person you thought would be disgusted by you if you ever gained weight. The one person you loved.
"Woah! Slow down. No matter how many kilograms you put in you'll never be fat or ugly! I can't believe you let a nightmare lead you on! You can't have an unhealthy relationship with food!" He exclaimed.
"you're just saying that."
"I'm not just saying that. I mean it y/n. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love with you and a couple kilograms isn't gonna change that." He replied.
"Aw- wait you what?!" You asked realising what he just said.
"I thought it was obvious? I love you y/n. I always have" Theo said. "but I'm still cross at you for not eating food."
"ok ok I'm sorry." You replied.
"YOU COULD'VE DIED!" Pansy exclaimed bursting into the room.
"Jesus Christ Pansy! You almost gave me a heart attack!" You said shocked at her entrance.
But you knew her words were right. And so were Theo's. From that moment you tried to prevent yourself from starving yourself and with the support of Theo and all your friends it was that much more easy.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。*:☆
A/n: the ending kinda sucks lol sorry for the lateness of this x hope you liked it!!
Taglist: @m3ntallyunstable34 lmk if you want to be added to my taglist (through asks or you can message me x I'll always respond ❤️)
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spidernuggets · 2 months
Note
I was listening to Matilda by Harry Styles and...
Can I ask something about the reader living in a toxic environment or having a toxic family but seeing it as normal, until she meets Jason and he makes her see that it's actually not normal?
Only if you feel comfortable writing it tho 🥲💗
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Note: I LOVEEE this request. It gives me the opportunity to show the little things in a toxic environment/family that are DEF mentally unhealthy, but it can be played off as, idk the word, normal, or not a big deal.
Reader's back story: Reader grew up with a family where there's always a lot of petty disagreements but always leads to being yelled at. Reader was also raised to respect others, but hypocritically, her parents don't show that same level. So when they yell at her, she doesn't say anything back, she doesn't talk back or defend herself etc etc. But the day after, her parents "apologise", Reader accepts, but the apology means fuck all because her parents always makes the same mistakes and the cycle continues.
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"Fucking hell! Can you just fucking leave me alone!" Jason yells after climbing through the fire escape. He just came back after a rough mission and is in no mood.
You ran up to him, trying to give him a hug, and at first, he lightly pushed you away, but poor you didn't get the memo and tried to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Jason really didn't mean to lash out on you. During the mission, he got scolded by Dick and got punched across the jaw by Bruce. He also failed the mission anyway. And honestly, all that time wasted when he could've been in your arms instead pissed him off more.
But now that he's here with you, he doesn't seem like he's in the mood to be held by you. He just wants everything to be quiet. Except, now he's the one being loud.
"I'm sorry, Jay, I just-"
"Y/n, please, just shut up for five minutes because I don't think my head can last another second with you!" He storms away, taking an extra pillow and blanket and goes to sleep on the couch. You let him leave, knowing he'll be better in the morning.
This was the first time Jason had raised his voice to you. But it was fine.
You woke up to the feel on fingers running through your hair and light, damp kisses on your nose. You twist and turned and groaned at the feeling, wishing for more sleep.
"Wake up, sweet thing. Please?" You heard a deep, raspy voice ask.
You barely opened your eyes but made out the figure in front of you. Jason was on his knees, kneeling beside your bed with roses and your favourite candies in his hand.
"Mm.. Jay?" You groaned once more, trying to sit up while rubbing your eyes open. "Special occasion?" You groggily asked.
Jason looks at you slightly confused. "What? No.. no, I just wanted to say I'm.. I'm sorry. I acted like an asshole last night, a major asshole. Scream at me, hit me, do whatever. Please, please forgive me," he whines, looking down while presenting the gifts to you. He tenses up as you stay silent. When he looks up, your head is tilted, accompanied by a questioning look on your face. "And.. And I told Bruce that I'm taking the week off. I'll take you out on dates, wherever you want to go, I'll buy you everything you want." At this point, he'd give his soul to Trigon just for you to forgive him.
Slowly, you take the candies and roses from him. "That's really sweet, Jay.. but.. why?" Now it was Jason's turn to look at you in confusion and disbelief.
"What- What do you mean why? I was a bastard last night! I told you to shut up, I told you to leave me akone! I left you alone in bed last night!" In all realness, the moment Jason sat on the couch, he thought you indirectly broke up with him and left. He didn't expect you to be in bed. So he ran to the closest ooen shop and bought you all your favourite candies.
"Oh..." You pondered, looking at the pretty petals in your hands. "It's okay, Jay. Don't worry about it, it's fine," you smiled.
Jason frowned. You were smiling. Genuinely smiling at him. As if nothing happened. As if what he did wasn't wrong. "What? It's not- It's not fine. How can you say that?"
"Well, you're sorry, yeah? So everything is good," you try to hold your hand in his, but the contact made him flinch. It's like Jason is getting angry for you.
"No. No, everything's NOT good. Why are you acted as if I didn't just fully disrespect you last night? Why are you acting as if nothing happened? What if I yell at you like that again, huh? It wouldn't be fine!" Jason doesn't understand why you think everything is fine.
"I mean.. If you say sorry, then you're sorry," you shortly explain.
"Were you always like this?" He quietly asks, holding your hands, caressing them with his thumbs. "A lot of the times, sorry isn't enough. Why- Why do you forgive so easily?" There's a plead in Jason's eyes. Through his life, he's always done so much wrong. He always lost people. Forgiveness was a foreign thing to him. But the fact that you gave no second thought into forgiving him had him worried.
You look down in such shame. You don't really know. But then you think back to when you were a kid. Back to when you reached out to pour some juice in your cup, but then you knocked over your dad's glass of water, and it smashed all over the ground.
You were eight. You were eight when your dad started yelling at you, asking why you were incompetent. You were crying and didn't hear your dad saying you had nothing to cry over.
Later in the night, your mom went to you, telling you your dad had a rough night, and he didn't mean to take it out on you. Then your dad walked in, kneeled, and said he was sorry. He said he'd never say anything like that to you ever again. And you forgave him. Because you were eight, and you believed that he was sorry.
To this day, you still weren't sure if he was sorry. Because he always noticed the small mistakes you made and lash out on you. Your mom did this, too. But the two of them always crawled back, asking for forgiveness, telling you they didn't mean it, promising it would never happen again.
The one time you tried to defend yourself, it just ticked them off even more. So, every time they raised their voices, your own stayed silent. You'd just wait for them to take out their harsh emotions on you, and you'd just wait for them with their routine of apologies, you'd just wait for the next time they gave out to you.
Maybe you're projecting this method onto Jason. You already knew how much of a hot head he is. But you still don't know. His apology seemed more alive than your parents'.
But, still. It was the same. 'I'll never do it again.' 'I'm sorry.'
The difference was.. was Jason WANTED you to be angry with him. Maybe that's what was missing. A chance to secure yourself. A chance to fight back. A chance to respect yourself.
"I don't know.." You whisper, too tired to lift your head to look at him.
"Hey.." He gently calls out, his finger under your chin, tilting your head up. "I'm not saying forgiveness is a bad thing. But you need to be angry about certain things. About me. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows. Just because someone says they're sorry, it doesn't mean they actually are. Except for me. I'm so, so sorry. Like, if I were you right now, I'd probably dump my ass." His last statement made you giggle ever so slightly.
"There's my girl," he says, one of his hands reaching up to hold her cheek, squishing it gently. "Next time I make a dick move, be angry. Yell at me, hit me. Threaten to dump me. That'll definitely make me feel real sorry." He smiles.
You let out a chuckle, turning your face to kiss the rough palm of his hand. "Okay," you mumbke through his hold.
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Are my fics getting shorter and shorter each time? That's my worst fear.
ANYWAYS, I genuinely hope this problem makes sense!!! It's light, but as I said, it's unhealthy!!
Very very very very much hope that you've enjoyed, Anon 🙏🙏
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bigassmoonchild · 9 months
Text
Gentle
Pairing: Task Force 141 (not specified) x Reader
Wordcount: 891
Summary: You were always gentle, no matter the situation. Even if he didn't notice until now.
Content Tags: Fluff, Reminiscence, Interactions with Children, Canon Typical Violence, Mentions of Human Trafficking, Heavy Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Mentions of Death, No Use of Y/N
A/N: Just a drabble ;). Maple Syrup will be updated most Fridays/Saturdays. I don't have the time during the regular week to be able to take the hours needed. You are more than welcome to request something! I'm encouraging it! As always, content under the cut and requests are open <3.
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He wished he could've known you. More than the violence you used to get through missions, more than how big you made yourself seem when out at a bar after a mission with the 141. And when he really thought of it, he knew what you truly were.
Gentle. Not a word often used to describe military personnel. But you? That was one of two words anyone could've used.
It was a silent mission. Just something to pick up intel quietly and leave, nothing else. You were outside a coffee shop and he watched a little boy run up to you, stopping directly in front of where you sat. You gave him such a big smile, leaning down and listening to what he said into your ear.
You leaned further to grab his jacket and get the zipper to zip, rubbing his shoulders for a second before sending him back off. If the boy knew exactly what you had under your own jacket, he would've ran off screaming.
But he didn't, because you knew what you were doing when it came to kids. They understood when you were direct, and you always were. It was never trying to reach the point in a way you would assume that they'd understand, but in a way that any normal person would understand.
You didn't underestimate their knowledge. All people learned in different times so you assumed that the kid would understand what you said. It wasn't a bedazzled explanation with butterflies and puppydogs, it was straight to the point.
During another mission, in the middle of securing a safehouse you struck a man, knife sliding through his neck like butter and you were able to turn, grasp on the knife tightening before you saw the little girl. She was curled up into a ball, hands above her head as if to protect herself.
Even with bloody hands, you had pulled her into you and brought her to the safe point. Even covered in blood and grime she let you sit her on your lap in order to check her over for marks and possible wounds, happily speaking to you and allowing you to mess with small scrapes she had on her elbows. You had to hand her over once you got off the plane, allowing protective services to take her from you.
You'd mentioned a few weeks ago that you kept in touch with her, and the little girl was now going into year ten. You'd had such a nice, gentle smile on your face as you recalled the girls boyfriend, how he would buy her flowers randomly. He didn't mind how you'd mentioned you would do some unspeakable things to him if he hurt her.
Even when you shot a man point blank, you took your time to ensure the body was out of the way, to not get trampled over. You respected the dead, no matter if the dead had been shooting at yourself and the rest of the 141.
And as gentle as you were, you were equally violent and angry. The only time any of them had seen you like that was during a mission busting a child-trafficking ring. There was no respect, there were no mercy kills. You shot where they'd take ages to bleed out from and made sure they hurt while doing it.
When you'd finally finished off the last man, releasing the kids from where they'd been chained up, you'd given them little smiles and spoke oh so nicely. Follow this big, scary man now. He won't let anyone hurt you, you'd told the first group.
He wasn't sure what happened when you'd disappeared for some time. You didn't talk about it and he learned to not mention it. All he knew is that when you came back outside just a little bloodier, your eyes didn't have you in them.
It was when the kids had smiled and waved at you that you came out of it. Your smile, this time, hadn't gone to your eyes like it usually did. You waved back, letting them hold your hands if they wanted to and making sure they had what they needed while waiting for a medevac.
Water, food, just a hug. You did whatever they needed and didn't let anything stop you. He'd tried, sure, but you wouldn't rest until you knew the kids were completely safe.
So as he sat there, coughing up blood, he could only think of how gentle you would be. How you would try and tell him that he'd be okay, that there was nothing to worry about. That the blood was natural and that he was going to be fine, you're going to be fine, god damnit. Open your eyes!
And maybe he had closed his eyes, but either way his vision had tunneled too much for him to see. He could feel your hands, gently trying to stop the blood as you felt the tears pouring down your cheeks. There wasn't much you could do, you knew. You didn't want to give up, your mind racing even as your hands found his and you held them, grip gentle.
Because that's what you were. No matter what, you'd be gentle to those who needed it. And maybe you would be just as gentle with the next person who came into your life.
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chuuyrr · 10 months
Text
WOULD'VE BEEN — BEAST! DAZAI OSAMU
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౨ৎ CW(s): gn! reader, beast!au, angst/romance, kinda short
౨ৎ SYNOPSIS: in which dazai osamu's timeless love for you knows no bounds, even in another life.
inspired by: timeless and enchanted by taylor swift !
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it was late afternoon when dazai passes by an antique shop down the block that didn't have customers, but a voice in the back of his head urges him to stop on his tracks and check it out.
drawn towards the antique shop, dazai feels his own feet move and his hands push the door open, causing the bell at the top of the frame to chime as he steps inside.
there was an elderly lady at the cashier and maintaining the antique shop, but when she saw the man clothed in black with a bandaged eye, her face wrinkled into a warm smile as she welcomed him inside. he could see how the old lady was taken aback by his look, yet she remained kind as he was a customer.
dazai merely nods curtly in response to the old lady's greeting before wandering about the shop, unfazed of the old lady's watchful gaze.
he couldn't care less about the trinkets, keychains, and accessories in here, but then his gaze fell upon an open box of pictures, and curiosity gets the best of him when he notices the sign above the open box of old pictures, seeing how each only sold for a couple of cents.
dazai quietly finds himself reaching into the box and seeing that it contains photographs, which appear to have been taken years ago given that they are all in black and white.
he discovers an image of a couple holding hands at the porch of their first home, and then another, but this time it was a photograph of high school sweethearts, laughing and holding hands, looking so happy with genuine smiles.
all of the photographs he sees next show a kind of love that only comes along once in a lifetime.
dazai takes a long breath, his hand reflexively grasping the pictures a little too tightly, causing them to crumple slightly.
normally, something as sentimental as these photographs wouldn't make him feel anything, but when he looked at them again, he saw a different person.
dazai saw you and him instead, and he wished it had really been the two of you instead.
that's when his thoughts turned to you, and you filled his entire mind with questions after questions.
would you have looked at him in the same way just like the lover to his beloved in the photos did? even in the middle of a crowded street?
perhaps in another life, dazai muses as he puts the images back in the box—just not in this one, sadly.
dazai keeps wandering around the antique shop, discovering new things like a stack of books covered with cobwebs.
he takes one in his hand and silently flips through the pages, which are already brown and worn from time, and it doesn't take him long to realize it's a diary. but as he reads the sentences in quiet, he finds himself scoffing, his gaze narrowing as he picks up on the story in it.
what was this antique shop doing to him?
was it to rub in his face of what could've been?
it was just cruel and twisted.
the bell by the door opening brings him back to reality as he feels the heavy burden on his shoulders again. dazai sighs to himself as puts the cobweb-covered book back and turns his head, ready to leave now that there is another customer in the antique shop besides him.
but dazai is unable to move and stands still, completely surprised, by what he sees.
"oh, my. why haven't i come here before?" you exclaim in a soft gasp of wonder as you look around the antique shop with curiosity.
it was you in all your grandeur, looking the same as you did in another life, still smiling warmly, and he is amazed and falls in love all over again at the sight of you in front of him.
the story breaks down his mind and body as it seems to halt when you walk into the shop, catching his eyes and finding the story starting when your eyes finally meet his and you speak.
"hello," your voice was as soothing and kind as it had always been, and it sounded like music to his ears, and dazai had missed it so much.
he notices you tilting your head to the side and hears your eyes ask, "have we met before?"' and felt the want to scream yes.
to tell you how long he had been waiting and longing to see you again in this life, but dazai knows he can't as his breath hitches.
"s-sir? are you okay?" your concerned voice surprises him. you were much closer now.
"huh?" was all he could utter in confusion.
dazai sees you rummaging through your pockets and pulls out a handkerchief, only for you to hand it to him before pointing it out to him, "sir, you're crying."
oh.
he never cries. he never did in his lifetime, but it appears that even in this world, you still hold his heart for him to do so. as dazai blinks, he notices how fuzzy his vision has become as a result of his tears filing his eyes and dampening the bandages covering his left eye.
he shakily reaches for your handkerchief, tears welling up in his eyes as his fingers grazes your warm skin. even your touch in this world was the same as it had always been.
"i'm sorry.. thank you.." dazai exhales, his sullen expression suddenly hidden by an exasperated fit of laughter as he wipes his tears with your handkerchief.
as he finishes, he hands you back your handkerchief, which you accept with a smile.
"it's no problem, but are you sure you're okay, sir?" you ask again, your face concerned.
"hmm? oh, yes. i'm fine, love," dazai laughs and shrugs it off as nothing, "i was going through old photographs and stuff here in this shop and got a bit sentimental, and then i saw you."
"i see, i see," you say softly with a small giggle, shaking your head, "well, i'm sorry to bother you, sir. i'm glad you're okay."
"no need for that, dear. i should be the one apologizing for worrying you," dazai insists with a smile, a genuine smile as he waves his hand.
he sees you nod and smile again before you excuse yourself and move past him to look around the store.
as dazai turns his head over his shoulder, he finds you conversing with the kind old lady of the antique shop while digging through the things you found interesting and charming.
as he recalls the images and book he read over earlier while staring at you at this instance, memories flood his head.
dazai had found you again, and even in another life, you made his head swirl, and all he could think of was how you could have still been his.
if only the story had gone back to the beginning page instead of where it was about to conclude. despite his thoughts echoing your name and filled his mind with memories of you from the other realities, it was already too late.
the pieces were already in place, and how could he take this away from you? to see you happy and safe, thriving in a life where you were just a regular citizen, not a member of an armed detective agency or anything..
and he couldn't stop thinking about one thing;
the regret of not being able to share and live this life with you.
where you could have been his,
where you and dazai could have been the ones in the old photographs he saw earlier,
and where you could have said you two were truly timeless.
nonetheless, dazai is grateful for meeting you again and falling in love with you. he has always loved you in every universe after all.
even in this separate life, even though fate has torn you two apart in this reality.
"we would've been timeless," dazai murmurs softly to himself before leaving the antique shop, his head and heart laden with grief.
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=͟͟͞♡˖ ° niki says ! ༉‧₊˚.
sigh, the kind of things miss taylor swift makes me write with the songs she wrote 💔 oh, and i am also dedicating this beast! dazai fic to @anqelically and @ruru-kiss !! (already hugging you both in advance because 🫂🥲)
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silverbladexyz · 4 months
Text
TW: Mentions of death, injuries, self-loathing. Part 2 to this. Part 3 is here.
"I can't believe you sometimes. What if you had actually been killed because of your recklessness?!"
"But I wasn't! Even if combat isn't my strong suit, I had it all under control; and besides, these wounds are nothing compared to what we've faced before!"
In the normally tranquil environment of the Port Mafia's infirmary, two voices argued back and forth. One laced with worry and anger, the other laced with guilty adamance. A pair of best friends seemed to be the reason behind this noise; with their stubbornness a guise of the true feelings that they harboured for each other.
"Are you seriously kidding me right now? Even if you had it all under control, that doesn't mean you can gamble your life away like it's nothing! How do you think everyone would feel if you died? Do you want to put them through more pain and suffering that could've been prevented if you were more cautious? Do you even care?!"
"..."
Instead of replying, you turned away, suddenly finding the window to be more interesting than whatever was going on right now.
He was right. You didn't think properly about the consequences before you jumped straight in to engage with the enemy, even if you may have had a backup plan.
"... I'm sorry."
It was soft, but Chuuya managed to catch it.
He gave a small sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension in them wore out. You fiddled with your bandages, not having the courage to look at him in the eyes. Did you even deserve to, afterall? When you worried him sick after he learnt that he almost lost you?
You heard his footsteps approaching you, and mentally prepared for the next thing that he was going to say.
Only for him to somewhat tug you into his arms.
Your eyes widened, and you blinked several times before realising that Chuuya Nakahara, your best friend, was hugging you.
His breath fanned against your collarbone as he buried his face into your shoulder. Strong arms held you close to him, being mindful of the injuries that you sustained on your body- yet the grip they held you in was tight but secure.
"... You idiot. Don't you dare do that again."
It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.
You hugged him back, inhaling his rich scent as an unknown heat bloomed in your chest.
"I won't. I promise, Chuuya."
His warmth never left your memories.
Now, you watched as he stood with her, holding her hand. They were too far away for you to make out their words, but whatever she said made Chuuya laugh. A genuine, happy laugh that seemed so much more different from the short chuckles he normally gave you.
He put his arm around her shoulder, and you unconsciously hugged your body as you felt yourself getting colder. It was the third of December- the start of another winter in Yokohama. Marking the six month anniversary of their relationship.
A wry smile made it's way on your face as Chuuya pulled Yasuko in for a kiss. Even though it was a short peck, it was enough to make your heart twist in longing that exemplified whenever you were around him. It was stupid; you knew that your best friend deserved to have someone much better than the monster you were, but it didn't stop you from wishing that you were her. Someone that was a sight for sore eyes, with an aura brighter than the blue skies- someone that could get Chuuya mesmerised.
You even noticed how he became slightly more distant in the friendship. You knew that he wasn't doing it on purpose; he was still the great best friend that he always was, but the little signs were there. Holding your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the crowd had diminished to just staying close to you. Whenever you called him on a free day to ask if he wanted to hang out with you, he would apologise, saying 'I have a date with Yasuko later'. And the fact that you had the same free days really said something about how much they meant to him.
You walked away, the sight getting too much to handle. Once you were at a safe distance, you crumpled against a wall, biting down on the inside of your mouth to stop the tears from leaking out. A higher-ranking mafioso like you, crying over some crush? Pathetic. An unfitting model for your subordinates who looked up to you as a great unflinching leader.
"Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty." You chuckled bitterly, digging your nails into your palms. You hated it- the soft gaze in Chuuya's eyes whenever Yasuko was mentioned, the way that he gently held her hand, the way he became much more sweet and patient with her that was almost nothing like how he acted around you- you hated it all. You regretted not confessing to him sooner all those years ago.
But you were only the side character in their romance; forever doomed to support them while you suffered in silence.
Was there something or somebody that you could blame for this agony that you were currently in? Destiny, perhaps? Or even Cupid? Those names only made you scoff as you stuffed your hands into your pockets.
There was nobody you could blame except for yourself.
Perhaps it would have been better if you were the one who saved Yasuko, not Chuuya. They would have never spent as much time with each other, and you'd still have a chance at romancing him. None of this would have happened if the roles were reversed at that time.
But who were you kidding? One way or another, they’d end up together by the red string of fate. The most perfect match in all of Yokohama that could put every other couple to shame. And you'd always be the third wheel- the 'best friend' whose sacrifices went unseen just so that they could be happy.
Or maybe it would have been better if Yasuko didn't exist in the first place.
"-Y/N? Y/N?"
A voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you blinked a bit before refocusing onto the girl in front of you.
"Is everything okay? N-not that you have to tell me what's wrong, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll always be here for you."
Yasuko looked at you with a concerned expression, her eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.
Those innocent, beautiful eyes of hers that had held Chuuya captive in their gaze.
Ah, right. You were currently in the shopping mall with her, because her boyfriend had asked you to accompany her like some sort of bodyguard. And who were you to refuse, as his best friend who was always there for him? Well, you were grateful that Chuuya trusted you enough to let you near Yasuko. You had seen how protective he was of her.
"... Nothing. I'm alright."
You smiled at her, all traces of your previous emotions now gone. How could you have let your composure slip so easily? This hangout was so that you could 'get closer' with her, not reminiscing about the pathetic past that held you captive in this agonising love.
She frowned a little, but before she could say anything else, you jumped at the opportunity to distract her. Anything that could make you temporarily forget your pain for one moment was what you desperately needed now.
"Oh, looks like they're selling discounted jewellery! Let's take a look! You might find something that you like."
Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her towards the jewellery store despite having no intentions to buy anything. You simply wanted her to be distracted by the precious stones, so meticulously cut and fit into fine metal that it was laughable how they were mostly for show. A valuable trinket only made to be admired and forgotten at the end of the day, even when so much blood had been spilled over them. Blood that would forever stain the hands of a sinner such as you.
"Oh! I remember Chuuya taking me to a similiar store! He bought me a ring; I said that there was no need, but he insisted." Yasuko glanced down at the gold-and-red circlet that lay snugly around her index finger, her gaze becoming shyer as she profoundly remembered the day that her beloved boyfriend had bought it for her.
Your own silver ring that he gifted to you on your 18th birthday paled in comparison to the 5-carat Burmese ruby that sat atop her finger. It was a harsh reminder of who the buyer really preferred from between the two of you. That twisted feeling in your gut resurfaced, but you pushed it back down. You had no more frivolous hopes that he would one day realise you were the one whom he truly belonged with.
"Haha... did he now? I didn't know Chuuya was such a romantic. Did you know that rubies symbolise passionate and undying love?" You smiled as she blushed; the redness on her cheeks rivaling the shade of the precious gemstone that was proof of his commitment to her.
People were right when they said love hurts, but they never mentioned that it was the most painful sensation in the world. All the stab wounds and burns and whatnot that you had experienced from your enemies were nothing compared to a broken heart. A heart that was made to be torn apart to pieces as it weeps for the love it would never get.
Something cold brushed against your wrist, and you looked down to see a bracelet made up of the most exquisite yellow topaz. Yasuko held an identical one in her hand, her expression almost bashful as she faced you.
"I... I wanted to get matching bracelets for the two of us. I know it's only been a few months since we became friends, but being around you has really brightened up my life. I'm glad that we got to meet each other, and I hope that our friendship continues to grow and strengthen!"
She smiled at you; a smile so full of purity and beauty that it would've made many men fall onto her knees in front of her. It was a smile that didn't belong in the dark depths of Yokohama- instead, it belonged to a goddess that was too good for this world. A goddess that clearly deserved to call Nakahara Chuuya hers. Just seeing that smile made you feel infinitely more guilty about the nasty thoughts you had about her each night.
Yasuko's smile faded, worried that she might have overstepped your boundaries due to your silence.
"S-sorry... I should've asked you beforehand if you wanted to buy matching bracelets. Please don't force yourself to buy it just to make me happy-"
You shut her up by slipping it onto your right wrist, the topaz seeming to reflect the sun's golden rays back at you. Shooting her a smile, you grasped Yasuko's hand and put the other bracelet onto her left wrist joint. It fit nicely; just like anything else that she wore.
"May our friendship last until death do us part." It was a pact that you had sworn with Chuuya before. And you always kept your word, never breaking a promise to someone no matter how bizarre or extreme it was.
How unfortunate, really, that death did you apart too early.
@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @justcallmesakira @yasu-masashige @oldworldpoolhall @heartsfourdazai @ashthemadwriter-uwu @sariel626 @yuugen-benni @chocsra @iridescentdove
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demonic0angel · 10 months
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God!Danny and Servant!Damian
Damian stared at the long hallway of various knickknacks and doohickeys. The ever-changing wallpaper was cracked and peeling, sticky with a green substance. Bizarrely shaped and decorated doors would occasionally peek out from the mountains of loot. The tables that lined the hallway were filled with books and books and many random objects. The hallway was illuminated with a combination of different things, candles and chandeliers and crackling TVs and lightbulbs lighting up the way. At the very end of the long hallway was a lone door, unmarked and conspicuous in its simplicity.
Once he walked through that door, he would be able to complete his wish.
Something to his side caught his eye. It was a small picture of a family, one with many unique characters.
It reminded Damian of his own.
It reminded him of his failures, his goals, and his desires.
Wiping away the liquid that welled in his eyes, he turned and glared at the door that seemed more and more like the light in the darkness as well as his own personal demise.
Damian grit his teeth and began to run.
————
It all started simply. It was an average day, a normal afternoon as Damian bickered with his siblings as always. He and Timothy were rubbing on each other's nerves, only instigated further by Jason who would gleefully laugh every now and then whenever he sparked the dying fire.
Dick sighed and said, "C'mon you two. Why can't you just get along?"
"It's  because Damian knows that Tim is better than him at detective work." Jason said.
"Shut up, Todd!" Damian said as Timothy made a strange expression of both smugness and also exasperation. Despite knowing that Jason was deliberately goading them on, they still fell for it and walked right into another heated argument.
Dick only sighed further as his little siblings argued like children. The door to the command room opened with Batman sweeping in, Stephanie following him with a little skip to her step.
"Heya, everyone!" She greeted cheerfully while Batman flew past them to inspect the controls.
All of them were in a spaceship commandeered by the batfamily in a mission to inspect a small alien planet that had recently pinged itself on their radar. It was a dangerous new colony that had an ability to steal the memories of those that they had killed and use it to conquer new planets.
The batclan was currently in a mission to investigate if the rumors were true and to find any weaknesses.
"Father?" Damian asked, as he noticed Batman's tense body language. "What is the matter?"
".... Orphan hasn't come back from her stealth mission."
A ripple of dread went through the room. Timothy immediately sat down on a seat and began to pull up mission records. They updated it regularly as they went, and Cassandra had logged in for her mission a few days ago, but now she was several hours past her expected return. This was a bad sign, especially since it was only a reconnaissance mission, with little to no conflict and even if there was, Cassandra would've contacted them.
Something had gone very, very wrong.
Stephanie whispered, "No... she couldn't have been."
Jason gave a snort, although it was weak and filled with false bravado. "There's no way. She's probably trying to find some new information for us. She's stronger than that."
No one said anything.
His attempt at gathering hope failed.
"... fuck." Jason said quietly, as the worst of what could've happened finally sank its claws into his mind.
Everyone was aware that this current mission was one with high stakes. The alien race they were investigating was a dangerous one, and unknown at that. Although they expected danger, they hadn’t expected one of their own to actually get hurt.
Batman shook his head, a hand reaching out to clasp Jason's shoulder. "We'll find her and then we'll help her." He reassured him softly. It said a lot that Jason didn't shake off his touch.
A stone sank in Damian's stomach.
This was his first mission in outer space and he loathed how vulnerable he felt. In an effort to hide it, Damian scoffed to himself and straightened.
They all lifted their heads in unison, however, when a crash rang through the ship. Their gut instincts had alerted them to the danger a second beforehand, but it was still too late.
The light flickered off, inciting another gasp of panic. They all put on their masks to switch on their night vision.
Batman immediately pulled out several batarangs and said, "Dick, with me! The rest of you, stay here and be careful. We'll investigate."
"Fuck!" Jason screamed, louder. "Why am I not coming?!"
"I need you to protect your siblings!" Batman said before he ran off with Dick in tow.
"Grayson!" Damian couldn't help but yell. "Father, shouldn’t we stick together instead?!”
He couldn’t help the worry that stuck to his voice.
Dick swerved back before he could leave the control room and immediately pulled Damian into a hug. "Little Bat," he said softly. "Stay here and protect Stephanie and Tim, okay? They need it."
Damian wanted to protest at his reassurances, almost indignant at the idea that he possibly needed comfort, but he didn’t say a word as Dick stroked his back. Timothy didn't speak up either, completely silent. Damian knew that he was also feeling some sense of immense dread, their survival instincts giving them a premonition of danger and death.
Damian tried to hold his brother closer, eyes wide before Dick pulled away, pulling on a false smile.
"Be careful!" He screamed and then he left.
"This isn't good, this isn't good." Tim muttered as he furiously tapped on the keyboard to figure out what was going on. Everything was down, even their systems and now they just waited in the darkness for a signal of safety.
Jason cursed under his breath. "I should've been with them!" He muttered.
Damian pushed down his nausea and said, "Then let's go. With the computers down, there is no reason for us to stay here when we could go out and help them."
"Fuck, I'm going." Jason pulled out his guns and immediately began to load them with bullets.
"Dammit." Tim cursed and Stephanie pulled out her own bo staff and looked determinedly at them.
"Let's go." She said, and they all followed her as she left first.
They ran through the halls to get to the sector where the explosion had supposedly started. The air seemed stale and dark, and a distant 'ooh'ing noise like wind going through a hole disturbed them greatly. Damian wished he had his swords, but all he had was a bo staff and a few batarangs to protect himself.
His eyes searched the darkness. Stephanie and Timothy were next to each other, their shoulders almost bumping against each other's for comfort, while Jason trailed a little behind Damian, guns out and ready. Damian reassured himself that his family was safe. Cassandra was surely just fine and so would his father and Richard be. They would be okay.
They would all be okay.
There was another crash right in front of them and Stephanie screamed. Jason immediately shot into the dark, the bright flash of a gunshot illuminating the hall for a moment, showing just who came through the wall.
A grotesque monster with bulging, writhing black tentacles stared at them before the light faded. Jason relentlessly shot his bullets, but they seemed useless.
There was a short scuffle before a disturbing squelching noise.
Timothy gave a long, loud keen before his body blocked Damian's vision.
The last thing that Damian saw before Timothy was pulling him away was Stephanie's fallen body, a deep blackness covering her that would shine crimson red.
They ran.
The moment Damian was able to reconnect with his thoughts and surroundings, he pulled his hand out of Timothy's and said, "Brown! She's still back there!"
"No!" Timothy snapped, his voice sounding wrecked. "We have to run. I saw her. She's not coming back."
Jason cursed violently and they quickly skidded into the next hall, shutting the sealed doors for a moment.
"Fuck. It's them. They found Cassandra and took her memories." Jason said and Damian choked on his fear and shock.
Timothy shuddered visibly and then said, "I think they got Stephanie too."
Damian grimaced, hurt shooting through his chest like a bullet wound before he gasped.
"Father! And Richard! They—They went ahead of us!" It was almost instantaneous how both Jason and Timothy paled.
Jason smacked his hands over his eyes. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!"
He took out his helmet and quickly put it on. "I'm going out. Maybe I can find them. Bruce is smart, he's probably still alive and I'll find them."
"You're not invincible, Todd." Damian snarled. "Let us come with you. If we die, we'll all die together."
"Like hell we will." Jason said curtly. "You little shits are gonna live because if another Robin dies, I'm...." He paused. He didn't know what to say.
None of them could find the words needed to comfort each other.
Damian's stomach dropped further into his feet, as if he was about to be sick.
Timothy reached out and grabbed onto Jason's sleeve. "Jason. You know it's a suicide mission. You can't go."
Jason reloaded his bullets and didn't say anything.
When he turned, Jason's helmet was still on his face as he stared at both Tim and Damian. Then he reached over to put a gloved hand on their heads and said, his voice crackling softly, "I gotta go, Robins. Protect each other. Be safe. I mean it."
His touch was heavy and warm, even through his glove. Damian stared at his akhi with wide, wet eyes.
Timothy screamed in shock and despair as Jason sealed that exit and then ran off. They heard the distant sounds of gunshots before they faded.
Timothy gasped for breath, tears flowing down his face but he quickly wiped them and then pulled on Damian's arms. "C'mon, Robin. It's up to us now. We have to get to the exit bay and hope that everyone else gets through this alive and back home."
No one voiced the fact that it would be near impossible.
As they ran, Timothy was furiously typing on his communicator. When they reached the ship bay, where extra spacecrafts were stationed and ready to fly, they found it blissfully empty.
Already suspicious, they snuck inside. Damian was almost irritated by the small gasps that left Timothy's throat but he understood, with the grief that seemed to eat through his stomach. After a moment, as they inched towards a spacecraft, Damian reached out to hold Timothy's hand and squeezed gently.
Timothy squeezed back and they both sped up to the spacecraft. They both worked together to open it up and get it ready for space travel when there was a distant roar.
Damian shuddered hard, goosebumps rising over his skin as he worked even faster, flicking on buttons and readying the controls and coordinates.
Timothy cursed and said, "Dammit. I can't message Earth."
Damian bit into his lip.
Nothing was going well. Where were their family?
Timothy handed Damian the communicator. For a moment, Damian just stared at it in confusion before he turned to Timothy with questioning eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest.
What was the meaning of this? Was Timothy possibly handing off their last chance of survival to him? For what reason?
"What is this for?" Damian snapped.
"Just hold it," Timothy said exhaustedly. "I need to go out and see if the exterior of the pod is functional for space travel. You stay here and stay inside while I go check outside."
"No! What if something happens and I am unable to stop it?" Damian said, his foot stomping once on the ground to emphasize his point.
Timothy didn't say anything as he started to walk down the ramp to the ground outside of the ship. Damian rushed forward to grab his hand and pull him back.
"Why must everyone sacrifice their lives?!" Damian shouted. "You don't need to do this! Let's just stick together!"
"Just shut up, Damian!"
"No! Let's leave now! I-I want to leave now!"
Timothy turned to him with a furious expression but whatever was on Damian's face made him pause. Then he pursed his lips together before pulling Damian in close.
They had never hugged before.
The closest they had ever been was whenever Damian lunged forward for a knife to Timothy's gut.
But this... this wasn't so bad. Damian's eyes burned with an urge to cry and he grabbed onto his brother's suit.
"We will be okay, Damian."
And just as he said that, he pushed Damian forward and through the aircraft as the aliens finally revealed themselves as well as the tentacle that now wiggled into Timothy's stomach.
It happened in an instant.
Damian couldn't even react as Timothy was impaled through his torso.
Blood spilled on the floor and through Timothy's mouth. Timothy coughed, more blood dripping down his chin. He inched forward as the tentacles seemed to pull him back. It was a slow thing, as Damian watched in frozen horror as Timothy moved towards him.
"Timothy!" He couldn't help but blurt it out. "You're going to be ripped in half, you imbecile!"
He took out a batarang, already formulating a plan to hopefully cut away the tentacle but then Timothy reached into his side pouch and took the access card out, slotting it into the card reader and smiling reassuringly at Damian as blood dripped from his lips and body.
"You'll be okay." He croaked, before a black blur shot out and impaled his skull, blood splattering over the doors as they quickly shut themselves.
The aircraft began to lift itself from the ground automatically as Damian screamed with rage and grief, his fist smacking into the door as he flew away. The last thing he saw before he sped off into space and back to earth was Timothy's limp body being dragged backwards.
Damian sank to his knees and didn't get up for a long time.
When he arrived back to Earth, it was useless.
Because Gotham was now gone.
————
Damian opened the door.
Inside was a wide, circular room with marble walls and floors. The ceiling was tall, and windows covered it, letting in golden light that lit up the room with an ethereal glow. In the middle of the room was a pool of water surrounding a tall tree on a little island.
Damian couldn't help the gulp of air that he took, rejuvenating him with a refreshing lightness like he was breathing in sunlight.
"Ah." A voice gasped softly. Damian whipped his head upwards and stared at a figure floating within the tree branches. "Hello."
This person wore white and black, their clothes all flowing around them. On their face was a deer skull, its horns stretching behind them as their white hair, strangely similar to Jason's unique white coloring, floated gently.
"Are you the God from the legends?" Damian asked, his voice sounding braver than he felt as the pressure of this being encased him.
"The legends? I suppose so. Do you have a wish, Damian al Ghul-Wayne?"
Damian flinched before his gaze hardened. "Yes. I would like to make a deal with you."
"I see." The god jumped off of the tree branch and floated in front of him. The air felt colder as they drifted closer to Damian. "What is your wish?"
"I want my family to live again."
The being paused. They tilted their head and then said, "Your family?"
"Yes." Damian paused and then clarified, "I want my entire family to be alive again. My father, all of my brothers, my sisters, my grandfather, and my extended family within Gotham."
"... a very big ask." The god murmured.
A chill rose within Damian and he said urgently, worried that his wish wouldn't be granted, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to have my wish granted. I can kill whoever you ask, I can offer my own body...! Anything, as long as my family is alive again."
The god tilted their head the other way. Then they said, "I see. Name your family."
Damian's breath hitched but before he did, he asked, "Will my wish be granted?"
"Yes."
Damian thrilled at that, before he paused. Then he asked carefully, "What is the price?"
The god turned to look at him. Their empty eye sockets, filled with a faint green glow, seemed to bore holes into his soul. "The price of the revival of your family is to sacrifice your life and eternity to me. You will offer your life, your death, and your eternity to me, for me to do whatever I wish."
Damian's breath stuttered. He paused, heart pounding as he debated with himself.
But who was he kidding?
There was no such question in the first place. Damian was not worth even an toe from his family. He wasn't even worth enough to even gaze upon their shoes.
Damian nodded firmly. "I agree to your deal. If I offer everything that I am to you, you will agree to revive my family as they once were?"
"They will be revived and reverted back to a time when they were once alive. They will be well and healthy, I assure you. With this deal, I can promise that they will live to old age."
Damian beamed. "Deal. My family's names are Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, and Timothy Drake."
The god seemed to give off an air of satisfaction. "Then, for the soul, eternity, and life and death of Damian al Ghul-Wayne, the aforementioned people will be revived and brought back to life."
They clapped their hands. "It's been done."
Damian couldn't tell if they were lying or not. Still, Damian was overjoyed at this piece of news. "Then... may I go see them?"
The god floated a bit in front of him. "No. You'll stay here, with me."
Damian paused, his stomach dropping and he wanted to smack himself for hoping. "I see. What will you have me do?"
Would they make Damian kill for them? Be a slave? Use his body? Would he have to sacrifice his body parts for them? Kidnap people? The possibilities were endless and although it made a bitter, sour taste go through his mouth, Damian did not dare complain.
The god seemed to be smiling as a broom appeared into existence in their hands. They handed it to Damian who grabbed it unsurely.
"Clean up."
————
And that was the beginning of how Damian became a servant of a lone God.
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mcyt-trios · 7 months
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SEMI-FINALS
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PROPAGANDA:
Familoier:
I CANT SPEND THE NEXT HOUR TYPING
THE TRIO OF ALL TIME TRULY- ALL 3 OF THEM LOVE AND CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO MUCH- LIKE ROIER AND CELLBIT ARE MARREID YEAH BUT THEY STILL CONSIDER JAIDEN PART OF THEIR FAMILY SHE IS IMPORTANT TO THEM AND THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO HER- ROIER AND JAIDEN WILL ALWAYS BE PARTNERS NO MATTER WHAT
theee relationship of all time: roier is husbands with cellbit and jaiden is his qpp, they are all so caring for each other and they have had their tension and their bad moments but there's a genuine want to communicate and grow better all the time :( <3
Cellbit and Roier are romantic married, Roier and Jaiden were platonic partners raising a child together, and all 3 are chaos together! But get along so so well! They support each other so much and care about each other so deeply and they are all Sillies
this is jaiden, and this is jaiden's partner/ the father of her child roier, and this is roier's cannibal husband cellbit
Eclipse Federation:
i dont like them. they ruined my life. Subz and Vitalasy had already partnered in previous seasons but this one, Vitalasy ended up leaving for a few months, leaving Subz alone, and Zam ended up getting close to him after immense trauma at the hands of his former teammates. Zam has done SO many wrongs, including to Subz himself and Subz STILL took him in and made him join Eclipse Federation after Zam died 14 times in a row and got banned then revived by the same player who's been killing him all this time. And it could've been perfect but no, Zam had betrayed his previous team due to them using dupes via exploits, and now Eclipse Federation ALSO has exploits! And he decided that yeah his morals were more important than being loved! And so he murders Vitalasy when he's at his most vulnerable point, lets everyone gaslight him into thinking Vitalasy is an irredeemable evil monster who will never change, even as Vitalasy SAID he was ready to change before the betrayal even happened, Eclipse threw out their whole revenge plans because of Zam's positive influence and he just broke everything. Subz couldn't be with Zam but also couldn't see himself at Vitalasy's side, leaving him alone. Vitalasy hated Zam and yet never killed him or hunted him down, despite Zam acting like he did. And when Vitalasy left, banning himself off from the server, Zam had some time alone to think and realized he fucked up SOOOO bad. And Subz revived Vitalasy and told him to kill him. And ban him. His last wish. His Deliverance. And to make up with Zam. And Vitalasy tried, and they kind of did make up over Subz's death, but then Zam was like "actually im going to kill everyone and destroy the server now. because i want subz back and also because i always do extremely drastic things when i don't need to because i have unchecked mental illnesses i refuse to get help for". And surprisingly when Subz came back he didn't like that! And they ended in tragedy! Eclipse is fucked up. It's a trio that's always about the absence of one person, it's a team that could only happen in one timeline and it was doomed from the very start. But the love was there. It made everything worse, truthfully. But it was there. And that matters. Also as a fun fact Zam himself on twitter has referred to eclipse as a throuple, which is not canon but that's pretty funny. he also stated on stream he didn't want to get therapy because it'd ruin his lifesteal character. and there was a saga where they would "marry" (challenge lost kinda shenanigans) and zam was the only one happy about it. he's not normal. there's something wrong with him. love that for him though sorry for the block of text. I really dislike them. They're my beloveds :3
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twinklelilstarkey · 1 year
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Tutor: The Talk
Words: 5.6k+ Type: Angst (not Rafe and Y/N) Summary: They're finally going to talk. Warnings: Fem!Reader. Arguing. Slight manipulation. Narcissistic behavior. Lying. Mentions of drug consumption and insults regarding that. Mentions of fighting.
Tutor Masterlist
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Your first class of the day is finally over, and all you can do is sigh in relief. With your books held against your chest and bag over your shoulder, you are out of the classroom before you can even think twice.
The air in the hallways is better. And due to how quick you were, you were able to not catch the chaotic crowd that eventually walks these hallways between classes. Unfortunately, you still need to go to your locker before the next class, so it isn’t like you have much time to do quite literally anything.
Alone, you walk yourself through the hallways of the school you will soon say goodbye to, and after squeezing through somewhat crowded areas, you finally get to your locker.
You open the metal box with a small combination of numbers and do it quickly so you can rid yourself of the weight of the books in your hands. After that, you organize it a little better before reaching for the books for the next class, and all of a sudden, you see someone standing beside you.
You jump, absolutely startled by the sudden appearance of said someone and look over at the person, finding Kristy. Your hand is over your chest in a physical attempt to calm down your heart after getting scared due to her proximity, but that is when you notice the look on her face.
The one she has when she needs to talk to you.
It has been, possibly, three weeks since you have grown distant from your friends. Maybe it has to do with the fact that school is almost over, and you will all soon pack things up and go to college. But, except for the first days, you have yet to feel the longing for their disappearing friendship.
You cannot say you don’t miss having fun with your friends. Of course, you do. All of you were friends for the entirety of high school, and Kristy has been your best friend for what feels like so much more time. And, maybe, it had to do with how it happened: from how normal days, when you talked all day through school, turned into days when you practically never see them (nor wish to after a specific lunch).
You swear you can still feel their gazes from that day. Looking at you sideways as if you had infiltrated yourself into their table and were ready to listen to all their secrets and expose them to the world. When, in reality, you were only sitting with your friends. Or who you thought were your friends.
You blamed yourself for the entirety of the first week for what happened since you could've done something and forgotten it. Maybe you hurt one of the girls’ feelings once in a conversation and missed how much that one joke could’ve hurt them. Maybe it was your tone or the content of the joke. Or maybe it just got taken too far.
Whatever it was, you let go of your worry by the time the silence reached a week. You blame that part on your boyfriend and his friends, as the time you once had with your friends outside of school is now spent with him or them. You’re not sure if Rafe did it on purpose, but he had picked you up from that first day of the silence onwards. He listened to you, and maybe that was what made him want to spend more time with you. He didn't want you alone.
Right now, the mentality you have towards all of this is simple: if they have something against you and want you to acknowledge it, they need to speak with you.
You were done with the guessing games of what you could’ve possibly done wrong. Even if the possibility of them finding out about Rafe still hunted you.
Yes, in a way, it doesn’t really matter anymore because they do not seem to be your friends or wish to be so. But you know that any reaction that could come with that would not be positive, and it surely would hurt to hear what they would have to say about that.
After so many warnings regarding Rafe’s antics, you have grown to know if they were true or false or how they ranged from ridiculous to absolutely spot-on, even if you don't want to remember them. And you won't. Rafe has been doing his best, so you will do the same.
Rafe, as promised, has been staying out of fights every time you go out together. Even if that meant that he had to step back from a rather very random confrontation that appeared in front of him out of nowhere at some parties.
You watched him do it. You watched him step away and hold his hands up in a conversation with some guy you didn’t know. Stepping away from a confrontation that rose from a casual conversation. You acted as if you didn’t see it, but you felt proud when looking back at it.
Rafe has also been cautious with other things that could originate his anger or sudden fights at parties. He has never said it to you, but you have noticed how he keeps away from certain tables. He now prefers to spend more time smoking weed at the end of a party with Patty and Topper than any further drugs.
He has been working hard to keep up with his promise, and you don’t want to seem like the girlfriend that only hovers over him to see if he was keeping it in the first place. So, you stayed on your side as you saw all that he did occasionally, yet saved it in your heart too - where it is safely kept and able to make you smile at the most random of times.
And that is why you have decided to be done with the secrecy of the relationship by the time you finish high school, which is just a week away. You haven’t spoken to Rafe about it, but you know he wouldn’t care for that as the secrecy wasn’t kept on going to protect him and his relationships, but yours. (Which happened to crumble all on their own.)
Maybe it had been cowardly for not doing it sooner, but Rafe never pushed you to do it. You knew what could happen if anyone close to you were to find out. Kristy is one of them, but so are your parents. The parents who still expect and think so much out of you yet haven’t noticed how much their daughter has begun to hide from them - all due to the fear of the abandonment that could follow. It would happen. But you want to let it be when you have a place to be, and when you can find a refuge somewhere else, even if that is college.
“Hi,” Kristy says. Her voice is breathy, almost as if she was sighing her words.
“Hello,” You say back to her.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Her eyes move all through your face, scanning every bit of it. She was trying to read you, even when you stood as confused as ever in front of her.
“Okay…”
“It’s about-”
She is suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. She stops talking and looks at your phone as if it is her absolute enemy. You look down at the screen, noticing that it is Rose calling you, which is more than strange. She only calls you about your payments for tutoring, nothing more.
“Sorry, I’ll be quick,” You tell Kristy, and she nods. “Hello?”
“Hi, honey. Look, you don’t have a car, do you?” 
You frown at the question and begin to reach into your locker for your books as you talk on the phone, not wanting to lose any time.
“I don’t.”
Rose sighs over the phone.
“And do you have anyone that usually picks you up after class?”
You frown further, pausing your reaching into the locker. Should you tell her that her stepson is usually the one that picks you up from school? He does take you home after tutoring all the time, courtesy of Ward's orders. So, it wouldn’t sound weird, right?
One look at Kristy, and you shut that thought down right away.
“Usually my parents pick me up.” You tell her half a lie, “Sometimes I go home with friends. Why? Is everything alright?”
“I can’t pick up Wheezie from school for your tutoring class, and she needs to be tutored for tomorrow’s final,” Rose says in a rather frustrated and tired tone. “Ward will be in a meeting until late, and I’ll be in a meeting in an hour, right as I’m supposed to pick her up.”
“And Rafe?” You see Kristy tense up beside you, and you clarify more to her than Rose, “Can’t he pick her up?”
“He’s not picking up his phone,” Rose sighs, “Can you try to call him?”
“I can try, of course…” Rose stays quiet after you speak. “Also. I can always walk over to her school, and we can walk home. It’s not too far.”
Kristy perks up beside you, and you look at her, pausing your collecting of the books again.
“I can ride you home,” Kristy says to you with a smile, possibly picking up what is happening from what you said and taking her (right) conclusions.
“I have a friend that can drive me, actually,” You say to Rose before she can say her farewells. “She just told me.”
“Oh, thank god,” Rose exclaims loudly. She sighs after a moment of silence, “Truly, thank you, sweety. Text me when you two get home, please.”
“Of course.”
Rose wishes you a good rest of your day before you end the call, and as you do, Kristy is still beside you, waiting for you to finish the call patiently.
“You wanted to talk to me.”
You close your locker as you say those words, but she gets interrupted again, but, this time, by the ringing of the bell. Kristy closes her eyes as she takes a breath that can only be out of pure frustration, and you continue to look at her, waiting for her to say something.
“You know what? Let’s just talk whenever I take you to pick up Wheezie.” She says, guessing correctly the theme of the conversation on the phone, “We’ll have more time then.”
“Okay,” You tell her with a nod.
“See you after class,” She says before disappearing to get to her classroom. You can’t help but look at her as she walks away. She’s acting strangely, and you can’t exactly understand why.
(...)
“No, it’s fine,” You tell Rafe over the phone, “My friends will drive me.”
“I’m sorry.”
His voice is groggy, and you know for a fact that he just woke up. It was more than obvious that the entire reason why Rafe wouldn’t pick up Rose’s calls was that he was still passed out on his bed. He had told you about how he would hang out with Topper and Kelce the night before. The fact that he didn’t fall asleep on the steps of his home is more surprising than any of his sleeping-ins.
“Don’t be sorry,” You say with a smile, walking down the steps of the school to get to the parking lot. “What time did you get home?”
“I have no idea,” He says sincerely.
You two continue to talk as you walk through some cars in the parking lot. Your eyes are looking through every single one at the front, and since Kristy did not seem to find it reasonable to text you her whereabouts, you are completely lost.
Rafe gets to tell you all about his night (or what he remembers of it) while you look for Kristy’s car. You get to know all about how much he had drank, and how he, Topper, and Kelce had taken the safest route by walking home even though severely drunk. The mental image only makes you smile and wish to be there to see it, but that is wiped away from your mind when you see Kristy's car.
“I gotta go, okay?” You say to Rafe as you begin to walk to the car.
“Yeah,” He tells you, dragging his words with a very sleepy tone. 
The call is over by the time you get to the car. You look around to see if Kristy is anywhere to be seen, but that is when she pulls down her window, inviting you to get into the car. You offer a smile as you walk on closer, and your hand reaches for the passenger seat's door. When you get the door open, you force your smile not to fall because another two girls are inside, sitting in the back and silently looking at you.
“Hi,” You say to them, hating yourself for not hiding the surprise in your tone.
They all answer you in different tones, so you face Kristy and the road as she turns the car on.
“Didn’t expect you guys to be in the car too,” You offer the explanation, even though, deep down a voice is telling you that you do not need to justify anything to them.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” Kristy says, and she does sound sincere.
“That’s okay,” You nod. “We can have our conversation later, then.”
“Oh no.” Kristy says to you, looking at you as she stops the car to safely drive out of the parking lot, “They can be here during our conversation. They just-” She pauses, “They just needed a ride somewhere else as well.”
The lie could’ve been spotted from miles away, as you know, of course, that one of the girls in the back does own a car and has easy access to any of her parents' cars. But you don’t say anything. You simply strap yourself in with the seatbelt and lean back on your seat. You’ll have Wheezie in the car in no time. Maybe then, the air will stop being so dense.
To your surprise, the entirety of the drive to the Academy in which Wheezie studies is absolutely silent. You expected the girls to, at the very least, exchange words between themselves, but not even that. Silence. Pure and utter silence. Bringing your mind all the way back to that lunch a few weeks ago.
Maybe you should’ve just waited for Rafe to pick up instead.
As you think those words to yourself, the car stops right at the front of the school, where many parents are waiting for their kids. You check the time and notice still have a few minutes of waiting.
In the silent car, you pull out your phone and quickly send Wheezie a text, letting her know that you're at her school and where exactly you are in the parking lot.
“So…” A voice breaks through the silence in the car, “Will you be going to your graduation ceremony, Y/N?”
You lift your eyes off your phone and look over your shoulder at the two girls. It was one of them that made the question.
“Yeah, of course,” you say with a smile.
“And the parties?”
You frown and turn on your seat to face the girls easily. You look over at Kristy to find her looking over at the girls as well. Her face is unreadable as she does so.
“I… I don’t know yet,” You say, sincerely. “Why are you asking?”
“Just wanted to know,” She shrugs, “I also don’t know if I’ll be going to the parties.”
You nod, swallowing the awkwardness in this interaction, and look at Kristy again and then at the other girl. They all exchange glances, and Kristy cuts the silence with a deep breath.
You look at her, knowing that the reason why the girls had stopped acting like your friends will be coming out of her mouth in seconds, but you notice how her face has suddenly become readable. You can see her nerves and anxiety wash over her completely as she begins to speak.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” She starts. “It all has to do with… The way we have grown a little distant. And I wanted to talk to you about this and be honest with you.”
Your eyes are only on her now, giving her your absolute attention.
“Okay…” You whisper, “You can talk to me.”
She offers the girls another look, but you don’t look at them again, knowing that it will be useless to do so. The conversation is not exactly about them, for the looks of it. They are just here… for some other reason.
“We know about…” Her hand waves around in the air, “About your relationship.”
You hold your breath, but you do not say a thing.
“We have known for quite a while, actually. For how long?” She looks at the girls for help, “A month, more, possibly.” Her eyes come back to you.
You stare at her silently, and even though you don’t know it, your face shows absolutely nothing of what you are feeling. Not the weird sensation of how your heart seems to be beginning to claw up your throat to your mouth, or how your stomach is twisting in cold, cold anxiety.
You feel stupid to ask, but you do so anyway. “What relationship?”
“Yours with Rafe Cameron.”
Reality sets in, and it seems like a weight you could never put into words. Like something you would only hear it ever being described in movies or books as a weird sensation of how the air has grown thicker to breathe, and your mouth has grown to be the driest of all deserts.
“Okay,” you say. Your voice is small and weak, but you aren't able to pick yourself up just yet. “How, uh… How do you know?”
“We saw him picking you up once.” One of the girls in the back says to you, making you look at her, “It was on the day of the blind date.”
The air gets thicker, and your heart speeds up.
“Okay,” you repeat yourself. “I, uhm… I don’t really know what to say.”
Kristy simply stares at you when you bring your eyes back to her. Her face has gone unreadable again, but yours is beginning to open up, beginning to show your confusion and frustration with only your expressions.
“So you truly are dating him?” Kristy asks you, trying to be sure.
“Yeah, I am,” you tell her.
“How long have you two been dating?”
“A few months.”
Silence comes back, and you are left to look at them as they try to hide their surprise. None of their faces has even a glimpse of positivity in it, any of it. It is just negativity and what seems like anger at some point.
“I- I don’t get it,” You say to yourself at first, but their eyes move over to you. “Is that why you stopped talking to me?”
“What?” Kristy asks, confused.
“You said at the beginning that this was about why we grew distant. Is dating Rafe the reason why you wanted to stop being friends with me?” Your tone is defensive, more than defensive. But Kristy doesn’t seem to appreciate it.
“No, I think we’ve grown distant before we began to stop talking to you, actually.”
“When?” Your voice is not as weak anymore.
“When you started canceling on us,” one of the girls from the back answers, which makes some anger rise up your throat. Do you really need to argue against 3 people at once?
“When did I ever do that?”
“You canceled on a few sleepovers,” The same girl says.
“You mean one sleepover.” You correct her without leaving much silence for them to fight further. “Which was the last one I was ever invited to.”
“Why did you cancel on us?” The girl beside her asks.
“Yeah, why? Were you with Rafe?”
“Possibly, yeah,” You say, annoyance beginning to be evident in your tone, “Can we please stop with the one-on-three conversation, please? This whole thing is ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?” Kristy speaks.
You look at her, and your anger burns further when your request goes ignored. Kristy doesn’t seem angry or frustrated - unlike the other girls -, but your anger is becoming obvious to her.
“Do you really not see it? You put me in a car with two more girls to question me about my boyfriend.” You sigh, “Not only that, all of you are asking me and accusing me of pulling away from our friendship when you know, very well, that it is not true.” You notice how Kristy grows defensive, “You stopped talking to me, not the other way around.”
They stay silent for a bit, and you lean back on your seat in disbelief at what is happening.
“I put you in a car because I am worried about you,” Kristy tells you.
Your eyes find hers again, and you look at her in your silence, but that is before you laugh.
“Worried about me?” You repeat, chuckling, “For having a boyfriend?”
“For your boyfriend being Rafe Cameron,” One of the girls from the back answers.
You’re left in another silence, and you can’t help but let another chuckle escape. 
“And the way you show your worry is by… not talking to me?” You ask, incredulous at the information.
“You hid it from us,” the other girl says, defensively.
“Of course, I did. Look at what happened when you found out.” I tell her, facing her as I do, “Not only did you stop talking to me. But now I am inside a car, when I simply meant to pick up my boyfriend's sister, and am being confronted for dating said boyfriend.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kristy asks.
“Because, Kristy,” Your anger rises. “Not everything that I do has to be reported back to you. If I didn’t see fit in telling you the truth, it means that I didn’t see a good enough reason to do it.”
“So we shouldn’t know when our friend is dating someone?” The girl asks.
“It’s not about whether you ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’,” I tell her. “It was my secret to tell. You don’t like him, I get it. I hesitated on telling you anything because I knew all of you would react badly… That is it. Just do not tell me that you stopped talking to me because you were worried about me. You didn’t even try to have a conversation with me about it.”
“Why are you even dating him?” Kristy asks all of a sudden, and you can’t even hide the confusion on your face, “Seriously. Why did you start dating him, then? You know we don’t like him, yet you still talked to him enough to the point of dating him. You went against all of our warnings, all of them.”
Your dry laugh comes back, “Why are you making this about you? About all of you?” No one answers, “This is my relationship with my boyfriend, who I chose to date. Why are you making this about you?”
“Because we are your friends,” One of the girls in the back says.
“No, you’re not.” You answer, “Not anymore. Not since you stopped talking to me for weeks with absolutely no explanation.”
And with those words, you hit straight on the nail. The girls go silent, and they simply look at you. All of them are conflicted, you can tell from the look on their faces. They don’t know what to say.
“And I am dating Rafe because he treats me well. He cares for me.” You answer the previous question, “There hasn’t been a day in our relationship when I thought otherwise.”
Kristy is the one to laugh now, “Right.”
“Right, what?”
“We’re supposed to believe you?” Kristy asks, her anger rising further, and so is the volume of her voice. Her words come out in a shout, “You’re talking about the guy that beat up your ex-boyfriend not even two weeks ago!!”
“Why the fuck are you screaming at me?!” You scream back at her. “I know Rafe did that. I was there,” You say at a lower volume, but your eyes are still widened with anger, and your heart is still pumping furiously. “I was there when he did it. Aiden called a whore, and Rafe freaking lost it. I wasn’t a fan of how things ended, but I resolved it.” You point to your chest, “I resolved it because he is my boyfriend, and the conflict had to do with me too.”
“Oh, so you’re a fan of all his fighting then?” One of the girls asks in the back.
“When did I ever say that?” I ask her. “I said I resolved it, and I mean it. I am not justifying what Rafe did, but he was drunk, and he defended me, whether I like fighting or not. He knows I don’t, and that is why I moved on from all of this by the time the week ended.” You pause, “Stop acting like he murdered someone in cold blood because he simply wanted to.”
“What more did you get to see, hum?” Kristy asks you, “Did you get to see him nose deep his coke as well? I’m sure you did.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shake your head.
“No, Y/N. What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Kristen screams again.
You stare at her, and you watch as her face falls right as she notices how her words have sunk in. You watch as she opens her mouth to talk, but she is interrupted by one of the girls who is less remorseful.
“What do you even see in him, Y/N?” One of the girls in the back says.
You whisper a silent prayer for patience as soon as you hear the question.
“A lot. I see a lot in him. That is why I am dating him.” You sigh, forcing yourself to calm down, “I don’t know why I am even arguing back to you about this. You have never even tried to know him and simply roll with what everyone says-”
“I have talked to him,” The other girl says, “I did. Last Friday.” The girl beside her corrects her posture as her friend speaks, “And he surely wasn’t kind to me.” She laughs dryly.
“Where, last friday?” You ask confused.
“After you all left a party,” she explains. “You were getting food, I suppose, and I tried to go over to talk to you.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“So Rafe didn’t tell you?” She asks.
“Tell me what?”
“That he spoke to me.”
“He doesn’t even know you!” You say defensively, hating how she looks at you. Almost as if offended that Rafe hadn’t mentioned her to you. “I was there, how did I not see you, then?”
“You were by a car,” Kristy explains, but you don’t look over at her. “You were talking to someone with a bag in your hands, and Rafe was paying. She,” You can tell from her tone that she is pointing at the girl beside her, “walked over to you to talk. Rafe-”
“Rafe stopped me before I could get to you,” The girl interrupts to be the one to continue the story. “He asked me what I wanted, and when I told him the truth, he told me that you didn’t want to talk to me and that I should just 'fuck off'. So I left.”
Kristy notices the lie in her friend's words, but she does not correct her.
“Why would he even do that?” You don’t believe her. “He doesn’t even know your faces.”
“Which only goes to show how he treats other people, then, Y/N,” the girl says to you. “He is not a good person.”
You don’t say anything. You simply stare at her, which makes her believe that she has begun to get a hold of you and your attention again.
“Come on.” She shakes her head, “You know this better than anyone. You have heard everything that people say about him. How he is, how he treats people, how he is when high or drunk.”
You still don’t say anything.
“It’s an act.”
“What’s an act?” You ask, confused.
“The way he acts with you,” The other says answers, “He’s trying to get you to like him, so you don’t see what is bad in him. He’s manipulating you.”
“You have to be kidding me,” You say to them, shocked by their words.
“He is! He-”
“You have never even met him!” You lift up your voice to shut them up, “How can you make so many things up when you haven’t even had a one minute conversation with him.” You shake your head at them, “This is ridiculous.”
“You think he isn’t manipulating you?”
“Manipulating me to do what?!” You get angry again, “Go off to murder people like Bonnie and Clyde?” You leave the question hanging in the air, “Why are you acting as if I cannot defend myself? Acting as if I am some sort of defenseless victim that will always fall in the hands of evil?” They still don’t answer, “Rafe isn’t evil. Sure, he is not an angel. Nowhere near one, to be exact. But he treats me well. He takes care of me.” You slow down your voice to make sure they hear it, “He is a good boyfriend to me.”
“But-” Kristy begins after moments of silence.
“Just shut up, please!” You turn to her, “What were you even trying to achieve with this conversation? For me to leave Rafe? For me to end things with him and go back into your arms and thank you for saving me from the beast my boyfriend is?” You chuckle, “You are unbelievable.”
There is some silence, but you continue.
“And if by any means, Kristy, if you want to talk about bad people, please take a good look in the fucking mirror.” You emphasize the word, “You were my best friend, and you wanted to protect me so badly that not once did you consider my feelings towards all of this.”
“You’re not being fair.” She shakes her head at you.
“Good, because that’s how unfair this whole conversation was… Interrogating me like I’m some sort of criminal, and all I did was date a person you don’t like.” The words are heavy to Kristy, “Talk about unfair.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the door in the back opens, and Wheezie smiles at everyone inside the car. All the screaming and arguing went unnoticed by every single person outside due to the tinted and closed windows. Poor Wheezie would’ve never guessed what she just got into.
“Hi,” She says sweetly to you.
“Hi, Wheeze.” You say with a small smile back to her.
No one dares to speak as Kristy turns on the car and begins to drive to the Cameron’s household. The silence is deafening to Wheezie, but she can sense the tension, forcing her to not say anything during the whole drive as well. 
You only feel like you can breathe as soon as you are past the gates. The words repeat time and time again in your mind, making you think back on what each person said. What even was that about the restaurant? How did they know where you were? It does not make sense. That restaurant is nowhere near their houses.
By the time you get to the front of the large house, Wheezie is the first to jump out of the car and close the door behind her.
“Y/N-” One of the girls at the back starts.
“Shut up.”
She does.
You open the door and jump out of it. Kristy watches you as she bites down her tongue to fight back tears.
By the door of the house, Wheezie waits patiently for the glass door to open. Before it does, a figure steps into the porch and smiles down at the youngest Cameron sibling. Kristy cannot see who it is due to the light hitting the glass.
You close the car door once your bag is over your shoulder, but Kristy doesn’t drive away. She watches as the door opens, and Wheezie sprints inside after saying a few words to her brother. Rafe’s eyes go over to you, making Kristy able to see your forced smile even from where she sits in her car. His frown doesn’t take long to appear.
“This isn't ov-” One of the girls starts.
“Just shut up,” Kristy spits the words to her, making her do so.
You lay your hand on Rafe’s side as you walk through the door, and he looks down at you as you speak. The look on his face changes, and then Kristy watches him lay his hand on your shoulder.
As Rafe closes the door and looks up to find the car still in park, Kristy notices you leaning closer to him for comfort. She watches for a second longer before turning on her car and driving away.
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God, I love to write drama.
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sunlit-haruka · 7 months
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Ranking all of the Milgram Birthday Outfits on a scale of 1/10 because it's 3AM over here and I have to do school things at 6 (Inspired by this video) ↓
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Already off to an incredibly strong start, because as we know, Haruka is perfect and can do no wrong. Dog? Little sister? Who's that? Sounds like a myth honesty. Alright, jokes and Haruka bias aside, very nice ! Relatively plain all things considered, but that's quite fitting for Haruka (I mean, have you seen how this kid dresses normally? I'm somewhat surprised that he didn't go for a full white look. Wonder if Muu helped him out when choosing his pieces) I also love the color blue, so bonus points for that. (shut up I know I just said I would ignore biases) Overall, I give Haruka Sakurai a 8/10 !! Lookin' good, buddy ! ↓
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Yuno looks so pretty and the outfit is SO cute !! I love the frilliness of the shirt, the pleated skirt is really cute and in general I love the shades of pink chosen for this outfit, and those SHOEEEES girl where did you get those give me name and address. I honestly have no complaints at all I give Yuno Kashiki a 10/10 !! Absolutely gorgeous girl !! (Also it's unfortunate we're only ranking the outfits and not the cakes, because the decision to give Yuno a fucking staircase cake was genius) ↓
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...Mannn, I wish I could say I liked this outfit so badly. The outfit itself is alright, if a bit basic, and Fuuta looks very handsome ! But I can't help but feel like black would've been a better choice for him than dark brown. And Fuuta...my guy...WHY those shoes? I could've maybe forgiven the outfit colors if you didn't decide to pair them with shiny gold...sneakers? What the hell even are those? Get better shoes, man. Overall, I'm giving Fuuta Kajiyama a 4/10. I like the outfit it'self (minus the shoes), but the coloring brings it down a lot for me. ↓
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Christ, no wonder Muu got model deals ! Look at this queen right here !! She looks absolutely gorgeous, the dress is beautiful and I love the Beauty And The Beast inspiration. The earrings being inspired by an hourglass is a very cool detail, and the heels look great as well ! I genuinely don't think I have any faults with this one Muu Kusunoki gets a 10/10 ! Nice job dressing to impress ! ↓
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One chance Mr. Kirisaki, one cha-- Ahem. As I was saying, Shidou looks amazing in this outfit !! I'm usually not a fan of there being so much white on it's own (I sound like a certain horror fanatic, sheesh.) But Shidou reallly rocks it, and the purple accents are very nice in comparison !! I also really like the shoes for some reason. Shidou is being added to the list also consisting of Muu and Yuno where I need to see who their shoemaker is For Shidou Kirisaki, I give a 9/10 !! Very pretty man. ↓
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Mahiru looks very pretty here ! I love the poofy hair accessory, and the birdcage earrings are a very nice touch. That being said however...the dress is a bit too plain for me. I cannot help but feel like something is missing here that would make the overall outfit look way better. A sash maybe? Despite that though, Mahiru Shiina gets a 6/10 !! Looking ready for a date !  ↓
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Ooooh...Kazui stans forgive me, but I'm pretty indifferent to this outfit. It's not bad mind you ! Kazui looks very handsome in it, and I like the blue chosen for his tie. But it's the same problem with Mahiru where I feel like it's a bit too plain and could've used something more, like a pattern on his vest or pants. Also though his shoes aren't the atrocity that is Fuuta's, I feel like a black or even a dark blue akin to Haruka would've looked a lot better in comparison to the rest of his outfit. Kazui Mukuhara is granted a 5/10. Not the best, not the worst. Sorry old man. ↓
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AHHH SHE LOOKS SO CUTE !! It's like if the frilliness from Yuno's outfit was upped to twenty ! Amane's dress is adorable and looks very comfortable as well, I want a bigger sized version for myself. I also really like her big bow, as well as the blue shoes. But most importantly, Amane seems to be genuinely happy wearing it, and as a fandom, Amane's happienss takes priority. Amane Momose, you'll be getting a 9/10 from me ! Good on ya, kid ! ↓
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Ahhh, he's so cute ! Look at how polite he looks ! The blazer is nice, and also blue. Blue bias. And the boots absolutely fucking SLAY. The way his hair is styled looks very nice as well ! I also think this is the closest we have gotten to official art of Mikoto smiling genuinely, and I personally think we need more. And more. And more. Mikoto Kayano gets a 10/10 !! Very cute boy ! ↓
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Ma'am, I politely and respectfully ask you to break my neck mercilessly-- Ahem. As I was saying. KOTOKO LOOKS FUCKING AMAZING !! The undershirt oh my god the FUCKING UNDERSHIRT !! Absolutely adore it so much. The colors are all very pleasing to the eye, the skirt is very cute, and the heels look cool as hell !! But Kotoko also looks cool as hell in anything, so is this really fair? Kotoko Yuzuriha has obtained a 10/10 ! Absolutely gorgeous.
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