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kamiko1234 · 1 year ago

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Okumura bros angst fic idea with hurt/no comfort

TW : suicide (only in a fake world, no one acctualy dies) , suicidal thought & ptsd

Alright so basically while out on a mission Yukio gets attacked by a demon that mentally tortured their victems into willingly letting themselves possesed to escape the torture. It does this by locking them in a dream where their entier life was pretty much destroyed and everything is bad and once their victem reached rock bottom they show up as this sort of saviour offering the "overtake" for them and to allow them to just sleep and not feel any pain.

Yukio's delusion is what we would call the absolute worst case scenario. I'm talking Satan won and sucsessfully united Assiah and Gehenna leading to the earth being swept with demons and most of the order being destroyed. The Grigori are dead, True Cross is burned down and all that's left from the Vatican is a smoking crate. Nearly everyone Yukio ever knew is dead EXPECT his class and Rin.

Not that that's any better, 'cause Rin joined Satan in the delusion. Rin was the one who united Assiah and Gehenna in the first place. The Rin in this version is bitter and hateful and makes His very clear that he hates humanity's guts.

The breaking point for Yukio is reached when fake Rin attackes and straight up murderes his old class. And when I say "murdere" I'm meaning he slaughtered them. Straight up hacked into tiny pieces or burned to a crisp and Yukio could see all the gore. And then he turns to Yukio with his face and clothes covered in the blood of his friends together with a maniac grin on his face.

Yukio has the listen how Rin gleefully boasts about how easy it was to get rid of them. How he just had to let go and everything thing got so much easier. How he finally realized that Yukio never acctualy cared for him. How it was always meant to end this way and how much happier he is at the side of his father.

Right after the fake finished his horrifying speach he even thanked Yukio. He thanked him for never loving him or acting like he was his brother because they aren't. Yukio is a human and Rin is a demon. Yukio is a "lowly" exorcist while Rin was the "esteem" son of Satan who bore his flames. He thanked Yukio for showing him how idiotic it was of him to want to protect Assiah. Rin tells Yukio that he's glad he made him realize that he could never live among humans.

And then Yukio is forced to kill Rin. Yukio believes he had to kill his brother inorder to save Assiah. Yukio thinks he had to murdere his brother inorder to save Assiah. He believes it's his fault, too. He believed that he was the one who pushed Rin into joining Satan and that if he had been a better brother the older wouldn't have done what he did.

The demon that attacked him and locked him into the fake world wanted to make their "offer" , but they didn't even have time to do it because Yukio shot himself right after. Yukio believed that he not only pushed his brother into the arms of Satan but murdered him, too. And with everyone else who he loved being dead too ? He didn't see any reason why someone like him (a brother killer, the reason so many inoccent lives were lost and the reason Satan managed to get into Rin's head in the first place) should continue to live.

Yukio shoots himself right then and there. Cradeling the corpse of what he believes is Rin. He shoot throught his head, but Yukio doesn't die. He wakes up in a hospital bed with Rin at his side. And all Yukio can think about how this could possibly be hell.

Because Yukio is sure that if there is a life after death he wouldn't end up in heaven. (He couldn't, because that meant a filthy murderer would end up in heaven and that just couldn't be right -) But this can't be hell because hell was supposed to be bad and no place with his brother alive and by his side could ever be bad.

Rin notices Yukio being awake and was about to draw his sword. Yukio notices it and nearly has a panick attack. He scrambles to Rin , ripping out some IVs in his arm, and hugs Rin so tight that the other couldn't even fully move. All while almost stumbeling over his ragged rambles of "sorry" , "please forgive me" and even a few "don't do this, please"

And Rin has no idea how to properly react so he just holds his brother and tries to comfort him. The doctors told him about how the demon worked and was worried sick. They tried everything to expel the demon but nothing worked. All they could do is wait to take over Yukio's body and then try again and pray it will work that way.

They told Rin when Yukio would wake up the demon would probably either try to flee or fight, Rin guarded his brother's room. The teen was prepared for a fight, but then Yukio woke up and was obviously distressed and so vers himself that Rin didn't know what to do. He tried to clam his brother and he worried over how Yukio's arms bleed from where the IVs were ripped out. He doesn't even have time to question it when Yukio phisically throws away his sword as soon as he gets a good grip on it.

Doctors notice the commotion and come in, seperating Rin and Yukio before strongly sedating the others.

When Yukio wakes up again and his clamer everything gets explained to him, how the demon that attacked him made a fake world, how he was in a hospital and how they had no idea how he woke up as himself. The doctors praise him for his strong mind and note it down a a miracle, Yukio understands it was because he died in the dream.

He doesn't tell them that , thought. He didn't want to risk being sent to some sort of mental hospital. Not when he still had a chance to be better. Not when Rin is still here and his friends and loved ones are still alive. (Deep down Yukio knows he couldn't deal with being seperated from them when he knew they were alive. He just couldn't)

He gets released and tries to go on with life, but he can't. He tries to act like nothing happened, but he keeps thinking about how it was still him that was willing to kill Rin in that dream. He could still push his brother away and be the reason he joined the enemy. Because now he realized that he was horrible to Rin, that he didn't deserve Rin (or anyone else for that matter) , and that maybe it would be better if he just died.

He thinks of himself as horrible, because Yukio also realizes that he's scarred of Rin, he flinshed whenever Rin draws his sword and he has nightmares of how the fake version of his brother murdered everyone else in his class. And he hates himself all the more for it. Because Rin was good , he was kind. He didn't deserve that Yukio couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore without breaking out into cold sweat. Rin didn't deserve having such a sorry excuse for a brother who has flashbacks of something that never was and nightmares of a crime that never happened.

And Rin doesn't know what to do. Yukio clearly has a problem but he started to avoid Rin and has done so ever since waking up. He has no idea why his brother is acting the way he is and has no way to help him.

#Blue Exorcist #okumura rin #blue exorcist fics #yukio okumura #aoex fanfic #english isn't my first language #Yukio angst #Yukio is fucked in this #sorry not sorry

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retaurd · 1 month ago

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im a partial detransitioner, hormones but no surgeries. my voice is definitely deep, and i shave my chin every few days to get rid of the scruff. it certainly is not ideal, but the worst part is when i am assumed to be a transgender woman/ TIM. so much effort has gone into actually loving myself and accepting my body, and regretting altering it as much as i have (tattoos and scars and also testosterone) only to then be perceived as someone who hates himself and is playing pretend. despite this fairly regular confusion, i dont go out of my way to look overly feminine. i dont wear makeup. i have no interest in laser hair removal. im not going to let the pendulum swing the other way, into a different form of cosmetic self-hatred. hell, i dont even shave anything other than my chin. i dont try to talk in a voice that isnt "natural". i am who i am and maybe it sucks but it doesnt suck more than having ruined my lungs by smoking or my knees from ballet, yknow? sorry for the rant it just kind of sits weird to see posts that feel like they are suggesting i should be miserable and hate myself. i love myself, or at least i am neutral about me. i absolutely am glad you avoided unwanted transition at a young age, like i was unable to, but it wouldnt have been the end of the world. god bless, friend

No I know some people are cool w their partial or full transitions despite detransitioning. But some really aren't and that's what I'm referring to, those that don't feel the acceptance you do. I'm proud of you, truly, my worry is for those who dont. And I know in my heart I wouldn't have probably coped as well as you have. Or, maybe, because of your words I see it a bit differently. Maybe it would've ended up okay. I just know how I was at that age and I'm unsure if I would've been alright and adapted

I meant 0 offense to you or others who have gone through things as you have, who feel as you do. I'm proud of you like I said and happy for you as well very truly. God bless you too and may you have continued happiness.

#txt #ask #again im sorry if i was rude #my fear is for others who do it and see their only way out from under it #is to die

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juiceinpanties · 2 years ago

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10 Things You Hate About Eddie Munson, pt. 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): Chapter: R; Fic: E

Tags: eventual smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, subbie!Eddie, masturbation (m and f), fake dating, van sex, secret relationship, antagonistic relationship to friendship to lovers, casual sex, not-so-casual sex, phone sex, drunk reader

Summary: Your best friend, Nancy Wheeler, is absolutely dying to date Steve Harrington, but her parents have the weirdest rule: Nancy can't date until her friends (e.g., you) do. Nancy begs you to date someone, anyone, and eventually you agree. Meanwhile Steve offers to pay Eddie "the freak" Munson to ask you out. What could possibly go wrong??

Notes: This is, quite obviously, a 10 Things I Hate About You au, with a slight twist. Throw in some fake dating, a 90s setting, and here we are. Thanks to @tonybourdain for dragging me in and continuing to enable me. The van scene is partly her doing...

Please note the tags. This chapter is rated R and is sort of smut-adjacent. Actual smut will occur in future chapters, promise.

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog! Completely blank blogs that just like will be blocked because I'm gonna assume you're a bot. I've been here a long time.

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

You aren't looking forward to seeing Eddie because you have no idea what happened at the party Saturday night, except that Nancy said Eddie was the one who brought you home. You hope to anyone who's listening that you didn't make a complete fool of yourself, or (god forbid) make a pass at Eddie.

You find him Monday morning outside leaning against the building, one ankle crossed over the other. He's smoking, but he puts it out as you approach.

"Hey," he says when you get close enough. "Feeling better?"

"Than Saturday? Considering it's mostly a blank I'm gonna say...yes?"

He grins and tugs at a lock of his hair. "Yeah, you were pretty messed up." His expression turns serious. "Steve and I thought maybe the guy giving you the drinks might've slipped you something. Glad you came to find me while you were still sober enough."

You frown down at your boots, then up at him. "I woke up Sunday morning still dressed with a pounding headache and a bottle of Tylenol and glass of water on my nightstand. Was that you?"

"The headache, no. The rest, yeah. I figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"Hm," you say. You look away. Back. "Thanks," you finally manage. "That was nice. How'd you get me past my parents?"

"Practice," he says with an insouciant grin.

You roll your eyes, but then reach into your bag for something. "So, um. I...well. I made you this. As a kind of thank you, and because I guess it's what people do? When they're dating? Anyway, whatever, here." You push a tape at him, and he catches it before it can hit the ground.

He reads the track list and his expression goes through a series of changes, each one pissing you off more than the last. "Uh...that's—that's nice, but I can't accept this."

"Hm. Okay. It's not an engagement ring. Why the fuck not?"

"It's got—fuck. It's got Tiffany! And Wilson Phillips! And—and—Pearl Jam!"

"I can read, Grove. I made the fucking thing. Your point?"

"Fuuuck. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

"I said mostly a blank," you snap. You wish now you hadn't used the stupid nickname. Clearly he doesn't deserve a nickname. "So do you want the tape or not?"

"I can't—I mean—it was nice of you to—but I—”

"Forget it! I'd hate for you to strain yourself." You snatch the tape back from him and spin on your heel. "Clearly this was a stupid fucking idea. I'll tell Nancy to find someone else."

He watches you go in wide-eyed horror. "Wait!" he cries. "Hang on, wait, don't—awww, come on!" This last in response to you flipping him the bird over your shoulder as you disappear inside the building. "Fuck!" he growls. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! A girl gives you a tape, you take the fucking tape! It doesn't matter if it's Kenny G's greatest hits! Fuuuuuck!!"

The door opens and he peers that way hopefully, but instead of you he sees a very annoyed-looking Steve Harrington. "What the fuck did you do?!" he says. "I just talked to the girl I'm paying you to go out with, and she told me to go fuck myself and take you with me."

"Shiiiiit!" Eddie says. He presses both hands to his face and scrubs. What to do, what to do?! He drops his hands and squares his shoulders before casting Steve a steady, stoic look. "There's nothing else for it, my man. I've gotta sacrifice my dignity on the altar of impressing a girl."

Steve snorts. "Sacrifice your dignity!? Dude, have you seen your hair??"

Eddie ignores him. "Your friend Robin's in band, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Gonna need her help." He tugs a lock of hair over his mouth as he paces, thinking. Nancy can get him a copy of your schedule. During band period would be best. He can cut class. His attendance has been decent this year, but it's just one class. And it's important.

It's a perfect plan. He'll win you back, plus some, and then maybe you two can discuss that big ol' crush you had on him that "went away." That's a topic worth exploring further—even if it means enduring mindless pop music and Eddie Vedder.

“You STILL aren’t speaking to him?!” Nancy says a few days later. You’re in the cafeteria having lunch and revisiting your tiff with Eddie.

“He was a jerk!” you say, stabbing your mashed potatoes with your spork.

“He was, but…”

“Nance!” You scowl down at your tray and push it away. “Okay, look. First I made an absolute fool of myself at the party. Got completely wasted and sloppy.”

“That wasn’t your fault!”

“Regardless, it happened. Then he was apparently so NICE, such a GENTLEMAN.” You roll your eyes. “So I made him that stupid tape and he acted like I handed him toxic waste! I spent the whole day on it!”

“Yes, he acted stupid, but—”

“Oh god speak of the annoying devil,” you say. It’s too late to hide: he’s seen you and is heading straight your way.

“Ladies!” he says as he drops down next to you. He gives Nancy a nod and you a smile. “Still craving cheese fries?” he says to you.

You frown. “I’m sorry?”

“Saturday night you were dying for cheese fries, but I thought it was better to take you home instead. Mostly because you passed out in my van.”

You look away, flushing. God how humiliating!

“But I thought if you were still in the mood, we could go today after school.”

Your eyes snap to his face and you scowl. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear on Monday.”

“Noooo, you did. I just thought you might’ve changed your mind.”

You lean in. “Nope!” you say, carefully popping the p.

“Okay then.” He waves, and a kid from his Hellfire Club runs up. With a guitar.

“What—?”

“You brought this on yourself,” he says and stands. He tosses the strap over his head and strums. The sound fills the cafeteria, and you see another kid by the wall manning an amp.

“Eddie, WHAT are you DOING?!” you hiss.

“This one’s for you, babe!” He launches into a song that you don’t recognize—until he starts singing. “Children behave! That’s what they say…when we’re together!”

“Oh. My. God!”

Nancy grabs you across the table. “Is that—?!”

“Oh my GOD!!” It’s a loud, kinda slowed-down, metal version of I Think We’re Alone Now. Most famously covered by mall princess Tiffany.

"Running just as fast as we can...holding on to one another's hand..." He's really getting into it, grinding on the guitar and singing to her like it's his own personal rock concert. The entire cafeteria is watching, shocked, but the Hellfire kids are into it.

About halfway through the band marches in and starts playing along. The high school marching band. You bury your face in your hands and want to sink into the floor, but when you peek through your fingers at him part of you admits it's kinda cute.

"I think we're alone now! The beating of our hearts is the only sooouuunnd!" As he repeats the chorus he advances closer, and at the last line he drops to his knees and slides across the floor to end up directly at your feet. He unplugs the guitar and stands to take a bow. Most people are yelling and clapping, but a few boos are mixed in. He seems to enjoy those just as much. He flashes a double bird and sticks his tongue out, Gene Simmons style.

"C'mon, princess," he says with a grin. "Let's go get cheese fries."

You have class, but...

With a laugh you grab the hand he's offering. "Yeah, okay. Because that was the stupidest, ballsiest thing I've ever seen."

He grins even bigger, the lines around his eyes and mouth creasing his face. "Stupid and ballsy, the Eddie Munson special."

"Come on," you say as you drag him from the caf and his adoring public. "We'll chat more about your stupid balls over fries."

You're both sitting in the back of the van, doors open, legs hanging over the edge. You're singing his version of the song and he's got his head buried in his jacket.

"Stopppp!!" he cries. "Please! You're so goddamn mean."

You break off, giggling, and throw his pack of cigarettes at him. "How the hell did you come up with such a ridiculous plan?"

"I don't know. It sounded good at the time! And, look, it worked. You cut class to come have fries with me."

"We don't have fries yet," you say, "and I could cut and run at any time."

"Noted. So you hated it?"

You grin and duck your head, then peek at him. "No, I didn't hate it. It was cute. Stupid, but cute. How'd you learn the song that fast?"

He shrugs. "It wasn't that hard. And, I dunno. I'm a fuck-up, but I'm not bad at music."

"Eddie," you say with a little frown. "Don't talk about yourself like that." You poke his arm. "You're not a fuck-up. You're just..."

"Weird?"

You smile and nudge him. "You," you say.

"Right. A squishy, not-scary Muppet monster."

"That's right," you say, your smile widening. "Grover."

"You know, it's kinda growin' on me. The nickname."

"Funny," you say softly. "I was thinking the same about you." You lean in and kiss him softly, easily. It's quick, and you might have gone in for another, but the carhop arrives with your fries.

"Damn," Eddie mutters. "Saved by the cheese."

You giggle and the two of you dig in.

"But," he says after a food-filled silence, "I gotta protest: I might be stupid, but my balls aren't."

"Ohhh. Smart balls, huh?"

"Yup. These babies solve quadratic equations!"

You cover your mouth as you laugh and take a sip of coke. "Maybe you should ask them for help in math."

"Hm. You know, it's funny you should say that." He licks cheese off his fingers and wipes them on his jeans. "You're in AP Chem, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Cool, that's cool. I'm in chem, too. Not AP, of course. Just regular. But, uh. I gotta pass. I HAVE to. I gotta get out of Hawkins High."

"Third senior year," you remark. "It's maybe time."

"You're tellin' me. Anyway, you think maybe I could get some help? Like, uh. Tutoring?"

You consider a moment around a mouthful of cheesy potato. "Yeah, I could do that. Tomorrow, maybe? Unless you're busy."

"No, nope, I'm free. Tomorrow'd be great. We can go to my place after school. My uncle works doubles on Thursdays, second and third."

"Ouch," you say with a wince.

"Yeah, it's killer." He sighs and drops his napkin into the empty fry tray. "So. I gotta try again."

"Try what again?" you say with a frown.

"The kiss. You didn't see my best stuff, princess." He gets up to toss the trash in a nearby can, then boosts himself back into the van.

"Sound awfully sure of yourself," you say, scooting closer. You tug a little at his jacket and slide your hand under it, against his chest.

"You're gonna like it as much as you loved that song. Swear."

You let out a soft laugh. "Didn't love the song, pretty boy. Sorry."

"You liked it," he says.

"Hmm," you say, doubtfully.

He gently cups your face and rubs his nose against your cheek. "You liked it," he murmurs.

"Eh," you say, still playing it cool even as your pulse kicks up and your cheeks flush.

"You liked it," he says, firmly, and turns his head to capture his mouth with yours.

It's slow and easy and lingering, and when he pulls away you’re both a little breathless.

"I liked it," you whisper.

He grins. "I know you did, princess." He kisses you again, a little harder, and you make a soft noise before your hands come up to bury themselves in his hair.

He sucks your lower lip and nibbles gently. You're so soft and sweet; he can't get enough of kissing you, and it's only been two kisses.

You can't believe a boy can have lips this juicy. They're soft and full and he tastes salty like fries and sweet like root beer.

His tongue slides into your mouth and you meet it with your own. Tug his hair a little to pull his head back so you can nip at his jaw. His throat.

"Baby," he rasps. "Baby girl!"

You whine, just a little, and you both fall back into the van and somehow your leg hooks over his hips and you're grinding against each other as the kisses get hotter and deeper. His hand slides down to rest on your hip and creeps up just under the edge of your shirt. He tickles your side and you giggle.

"Ticklish?" he murmurs. "Good to know."

"Use your powers for good, Munson," you breathe and kiss him again. You press closer and rock. His hips fit between your thighs and you can feel... "Oh." You grin a little. "Hello."

"Shit!" he says. "Shit, babe, I'm sorry!"

You laugh a little. "It's okay," you breathe. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He's flushed red and sweating. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not like you can control it." You rock against him a little. "I don’t mind." You bite your lip. You want to see it. Touch it, even. But…

"Maybe—" You clear your throat. "Maybe you should take me home. I have a ton of homework."

"Yeah, sure, that's cool. That's good. I’m really—"

"Don't apologize again." You kiss him. "I promise I'm not mad or anything. Having a nice hard cock pressed against me is flattering, actually."

That seems to take some of the pressure off. "It's not stupid, either."

"Mmmm a penis that can do complex math. Be still my beating vagina."

He cracks up. "Wow," he says. "If I'd known it was that easy!"

"You calling me easy, Munson!?"

"...no..." He squirms a little. "Just, uh. Easily aroused?"

"Mmm." You lean in to bite his ear. "Says the boy with the raging hard-on."

"Come on, princess," he murmurs. His hand slides down over your ass. "You tellin' me you aren't wet right now?" He nuzzles your chin. "Throbbing a little, maybe?"

You don't want to admit it, but you've been at least fluttery since that first, quick kiss. Now your panties are soaked and you can feel your pounding heart in your cunt. You wish something else was pounding in that general vicinity.

"Maybe a little," you say. "A tiny bit."

He chuckles and squeezes your ass before he kisses you again. "Come on, baby doll. Lemme get you home. Or back to school?"

You lean away from him so you can grab his arm to check his watch. "Home," you say. "School's a wash for today."

"You got it." He kisses your nose, your forehead. "You're so pretty," he murmurs. "And soft. And smell amazing."

You brush your fingers over his kiss-swollen lips. "You're pretty. And soft...in some places. Fozzie Bear."

He grins. "Wacka wacka." He reluctantly pulls away and helps you up. "Shit," he mutters. "Head rush."

"Uh huh. Not much blood to the brain, huh?"

"Your fault, princess."

"Oops," you say, unrepentant.

He rolls his eyes and lifts you down from the van. "Brat."

"Muppet."

"Touché," he grumbles.

You're laughing as he helps you into the van's passenger seat. Maybe fake dating Eddie Munson won't be so bad after all. He's a good kisser and only pretends to be a jerk most of the time. You can work with that.

#eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #meg wrote this #stfic #emfic #10things

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #snk x you #snk x y/n #connie x you #connie x y/n

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cryptidintheforest · 3 years ago

Note

what are your frankie hcs?? :00

Let's go bbyyyyyy, this one is kind of a long one-

Frankie Headcanons:

He's very difficult to read, especially if you only know him at a superficial level. He doesn't emote much, he bottles up his emotions a lot, and tries to act cold and distant towards most people.

He isn't open about his insecurities to anyone, Bell is pretty much the only person who knows them and it's because he's known Frankie for years now. They have history and Bell has been there for Frankie when he's at his worst, so it's natural he's either been told what those insecurities are or found them out by being attentive.

He pretty much channels all his negative feelings into taking down a target efficiently, he'll do this pretty much any time he has a hit to accomplish. When he doesn't, he kinda just shuts down for the day and doesn't get out of bed unless it's for food or the bathroom, won't even get up to yell at his neighbors.

it's rare to see or hear him cry, considering how he chooses to let out his emotions or turn his sadness into anger as a way to protect himself. The moment he can't do any of those two things, he's out of sight almost immediately, as he sees crying in front of someone as a sign of weakness and he fears his vulnerability could be taken advantage of.

He finds comfort on things that remind him of Amy or bring a sense of safety/stability for him, depending on how bad he's doing or the type of comfort he's receiving, he's likely to start resting just to relax or sob quietly if he's in private/his apartment. As my previous point stated, his vulnerability is almost synonymous to weakness for him, so he does not want to show a vulnerable side to him to avoid it being used against him.

He has pretty much memorized the dates of important events he's experienced, that includes Amy's death and when he met Bell. Around the date of her death, he's more focused on his job and will pretty much ignore everyone else unless there's some reason he just has to interact with them (ex: Hookman since he's the landlord).

He doesn't exactly hate Will and LJ, just can't stand how loud they are. He could be trying to sleep or just be reading a book to relax and those two are just being loud and obnoxious right next door. So of course he's gonna be pissed at them, who wouldn't be? But at the end of the day, he wouldn't exactly wish them any harm, especially Will since he's human and we all know how fragile those are.

Absolutely hates Chuper, lil fucker has tried stealing one of his limbs at least three times of that thing living next door, he's sick of it. But it's a pet so, he won't cause it any harm. The moment that dog thing stands in its hind legs and speaks to him, he's throwing hands.

He's gay, has a low sex drive, doesn't really talk about his love life but he's had at least one partner in the past who I'm not gonna name (iwi) and does have a handful of contacts he's close with that not many people know about.

He enjoys drinking, smoking is mostly a stress reliever for him, he likes dressing up/looking presentable, enjoys reading before bed or just to pass the time with a glass of alcohol (what he will drink depends how he's feeling) and listens to Jazz and Classical songs, you'll probably see a bit of Tango music sneak in there.

That's all for now! I'll update it if I remember anything new tomorrow ivi, I'm glad I got to share some headcanons over here! Hope y'all like them!

#frankie the undead #frankie creeps #frankie headcanons #bell life of death #amy life of death #will grossman #william grossman #laughing jack #hook man #hookman #hookman creeps #chuper #chuper creeps #anonymous #anon ask #anon #thanks for the ask!#answered ask

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fictionwordcounts · 3 years ago

Text

Home [Anakin x Reader]

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: You're on the desolate planet of Dagobah, and things are a far less than exciting. However, someone crashing close to your home changes everything.

Requested on Wattpad.com at StarkWars084

You were whittling away at a stubborn piece of wood when you saw a ship of some sort fall from the sky not far away. You jumped up from the small chair you had made and examined the smoke trail in awe. Nothing exciting ever happened on this disgusting swamp planet and you absolutely had to go to the crash sight.

Smiling to yourself, you climbed down your tree house and headed off in the direction of the crashed, mysterious object. Wading through the thick mud was easy and you started walking a ways off, but stopped suddenly. You reached toward your back only to grasp empty air-- you'd left your weapon at home. You were furious with yourself for forgetting such an important tool. The planet you were on was nowhere shy of dangerous creatures. Looking over at a large stick on the ground, you decided it would have to do. You grasped it tightly and continued on until you found a broken ship submerged in quick sand. If anyone was alive in there, they certainly weren't now. It was a shame too. You were hoping to find someone (You didn't care who) to make life more interesting. You would have settled for anything in fact.

The sand prevented you from investigating closer, but it was just as amazing from where you were. Sure you had seen ships before, but that was a long time ago, before you came here. The ship was swallowed up quickly by the hungry sand and you strained to see the last bit of the tail disappear. You were about to leave when you noticed footprints leading off from where the plain had been. A sound from behind you made you jump, and you spun around with your makeshift weapon in hand. A man with shoulder-length dark hair and clothes caked in sand stood there. His eyes were kind and calm despite the large stick only inches from his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he stated. Even if it wasn't his intention, he had scared you a great deal, and you found yourself unable to lower the stick. He slowly raised his hands and started pushing the weapon down, and you let him since you couldn't do it yourself.

"Who are you?" You asked him once you had found your voice.

"It's alright, I'm Anakin Skywalker. I'm a Jedi, and I can help you off this planet," he answered. "I could take you as far as Coruscant, if you like."

You bit your tongue and changed your mind. I'm not okay with anything! you decided, I wanted anything but a Jedi. The Jedi were the people you had tried to escape in coming here. You had thought you wanted to be one at one time, but they had rejected you when you had failed their ridiculous trials. Now there was one here, though you had chosen to live on one of the most remote planets you could find. You were angry with him though you knew it was not him alone that had denied you the position.

"Well, I'm very glad you've found a way to get home," you said, trying to maintain a steady voice. "You can do so alone. I wish you luck." With that, you spun around and headed back to the home you had made. Sloshing footsteps and swinging branches told you that he was stumbling right behind.

"Hold on!" He called after you. You were nearly running, and you would've kept going, but this was the only social interaction you would get for who knew how long. You rolled your eyes and slowed so he could catch up. "It's dangerous out here alone," he warned.

You slowly turned around and rolled your eyes. "Is it?" you scoffed and took in a deep breath while you tried to get your thoughts together. "Listen, I do appreciate the offer, but I have no interest in heading back to anywhere the Jedi Council is."

"What do you mean back?" he questioned. "You mean you've been there before?"

You glared at him. "Do the Jedi now find things easy to forget?" you felt yourself shaking and tried desperately to stand completely still. You're not mad at him, you told yourself. You knew you shouldn't be mad at all, but it grew more difficult the more he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," Anakin apologized. "But at least let me take you to a safer, more populated planet." You almost laughed now.

Gesturing to land around, you responded, "Even if I wanted to leave, how would we?" Anakin looked around.

"I'd find a way," He insisted. You knew there was really nothing he could do, but you liked his determination.

Still, you weren't sold on the idea of returning. "Well," you started hesitantly. "If you're going to find a way back, you'll need a place to stay." You gestured for him to follow you. He was surprisingly good at navigating through the mud. He knew exactly where to step and where not to. You guessed it was the Force showing him the way. It had for you, too, before you memorized the land. When you got to the lake that was not far from your tree house, you made Anakin scrub off all the sand off his arms and neck.

When you made it back to your home you showed Anakin the way up the tree. "You built this?" He asked you once he was at the top.

You nodded proudly. "It took me a while, but it finally came together." You ran your hand across the railing you had put up. You were rather proud of your work and had a right to be. It was sturdy and homely which was perfect for where you lived. "You could probably stay just outside my kitchen for now. Tomorrow I'll have to make a proper bed for you."

Anakin nodded to show he understood then looked questioningly at you. "If I'm going to stay here, I need to know your name."

You had completely forgotten to introduce yourself! You scolded yourself inwardly. "Y/N," you told him.

He smiled "Thank you for offering your home to me, Y/N" You knew he was just being polite. He wouldn't have the comfort of a bed like the one you had made, and you couldn't make one now. You didn't have the items you would need, and it was getting too dark to gather any.

"I recommend you don't leave the house until dawn," you suggested. "The creatures here love the dark."

"I wont," he assured you. Even though he was a Jedi, you knew you couldn't leave him to figure that out on his own.

You would help him the best you could. You didn't hate him. In fact, you found it hard to dislike him. But it was impossible to ignore his title: Jedi. Just thinking the name made you shudder. You wished him a good night, and Anakin took his robe off and lay down on one of your pillows. He pulled the robe over himself to stay warm and you went to your moss bed. It was actually a nice, comfortable bed that took you a while to complete. You looked over at Anakin who was still awake, staring up at the sky, and your stomach twisted. He wanted to go home, but you couldn't help him do that. The best you could do was make sure he didn't freeze, starve, or get killed by ravenous animals, so that's what you would do. You would keep him alive until he could get back home.

________________________________________________________________________________

You woke up earlier than usual and dressed quickly. You decided to go hunting in hopes of finding some meat to balance out the root stew you would make. As you slipped the cotton shirt over your head, you realized that you didn't have any extra clothes for Anakin to change into, and his clothes were still covered in mud that had dried over. Surely, it wasn't a comfortable way to live. You walked over to Anakin who was fidgeting and stirring in his sleep. You would have to make him a change of clothes as soon as possible.

You grabbed your spear and knife and climbed down the tree easily. You wanted to do this quickly so you could start working on the other projects Anakin's arrival had made for you. You waited at some rocks near the lake with your knife in hand. Nudj, you knew, were lizard-like creatures that stayed around this area. You had only killed a few before, but they weren't bad. When a brave nudj climbed the rocks you quickly threw your knife and pierced it's skin. It thrashed for a second before falling still. You knew the alarm it let out would warn the others and keep you from getting anymore from there. You retrieved the knife and nudj and headed to a different patch of rocks. You repeated this pattern four more times until you had three of the lizards to take back. You jogged back to the tree and climbed up. Anakin was awake.

"Good morning," you called to him. His face was pale and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." You looked him over worriedly. Treating disease was not something you could cram into today. Deciding to leave him be, you started preparing a stew from roots herbs and the nudj you caught earlier. Anakin came up to you and watched for a little bit.

You turned to him while the stew cooked. "Have you figured out how you'll be getting back?" you questioned.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't, but I'll find a way," he answered confidently. Surely he knew he wouldn't be able to. The only thing that flew on the planet were the bogwings, and you didn't want to mess with them.

"I'll have to make you a change of clothes," you told him. "I'll do that after we eat." You turned back to the food and stirred it.

"Thank you," Anakin said. You pointed to a small pot you had sitting by.

"If you're going to stay here though," you announced. "You'll have to help and boil some of that water."

He smiled and took the full pot to a small fire you had going.

After you and Anakin had finished eating, you walked over to a bin where you kept thread and fabric. You hadn't expected to use it really so you were happy you found a use for it. You sent Anakin to wash the dishes, but it didn't keep him busy for long. He came to where you were working.

"Tell me about the time you were with the Jedi council," he requested.

You stiffened. Of course, he would be curious, but you didn't want to talk about it. You just wanted him to have a magical solution to leave and do so. You hesitated, trying to play out the conversation in your head.

"When I was younger," you started. "All I wanted to be was a Jedi. I looked up to them and my parents did too." A lump formed in your throat. "They noticed me, finally, and I trained for a long time until I became a Padawan. I wasn't long after that my parents were killed. I couldn't preform as well as they wanted me to. I could only think about them, hoping they would come back. It devastated me, and at times, I even felt resentment--hatred. You know that's not acceptable for Jedi." You inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from your cheek with your fingertips. "They expelled me, and I left. I was angry with the council." You gritted your teeth. "I was angry with Master Yoda."

Anakin looked puzzled. "Master Yoda is very wise," he defended. "I'm sure he had a good reason."

You wiped your face and looked at him reasonably. "Master Yoda has it all wrong," you argued. "There has never once been a Jedi who has kept to the code completely. Our emotions make us human, and those that embrace that are the ones he wants to get rid of. He can't turn us into his mindless, emotionless robots to fight his battles for him."

Anakin was silent. The whole time you were talking your hands were working on the outfit for him.

"But never mind," you attempted a smile. "I finished your outfit." You turned around while Anakin switched his clothes. When he was finished you turned back to see your work. You laughed out loud. The clothes looked absolutely ridiculous. They were baggy and blended into each other making it look like one piece.

"Well, it's a start," he teased, smiling. "At least now I'm not covered in sand from head to toe."

You made a note to yourself to practice your seamstress skills later.

You had just finished the bed for Anakin when the sun sank behind the trees. He slept on it well the first night, but he grew restless from nightmares that not even the most comfortable of beds could fix. You often had to sit by his bed with a cold cloth to calm him. He told you they were of his mother. He had to watch her die over and over again every night and it made him miserable. You did the best you could, but that wasn't much. There were nights when he would wake up suddenly, and you would have to speak quietly and soothingly to him until he could fall asleep again. At first it bothered you, but it troubled you more now.

Anakin had stayed with you for two weeks before a ship landed right next to the lake where you were gathering water one day. You dropped the bucket and ran to the ship. The door opened and a light-haired, bearded man emerged confidently. His eyes were tired but that didn't change how he acted.

"Hello there!" he called to you. "Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. Could you give me a hand with something?" Stunned you nodded and beckoned him forward. "I'm sorry about landing here without permission. I didn't think this planet was populated. I'll leave soon, but I seem to have lost something and I need help finding it," he explained.

"What did you loose?" you asked him, though you could already guess. Obi-Wan looked at you warily.

"His name is Anakin Skywalker."

You froze. When Anakin arrived, the thought that he might have someone looking for him hadn't even occurred to you. He was back at the tree house preparing food for the both of you. You weren't sure if you should get him or not. As if he heard his name called Anakin came running up from behind you.

Obi-Wan perked up. "Anakin!" He called cheerfully. "I'm glad you're alive, Anakin. You had us all worried." Despite the fact that this man had brought Anakin a way home, he didn't look all that happy.

"You shouldn't have come for me, Master." Anakin said. "You could've saved supplies and time going on without me."

"Anakin don't talk like that," Obi-Wan commanded. "You are my friend, and I will not leave you like that."

Obi-Wan looked at you. "I thank you for any help you have given my young apprentice. You will be paid in whatever currency you find acceptable." He turned back to Anakin. "Let's go, Anakin. Master Yoda will be happy to know you're alright."

Your heart sank. Anakin had found a way to leave after all. This is what you wanted. You reminded yourself. Once he's gone, life will be normal again. Boring and normal. You didn't want him to go now, but what could you do? It was Anakin's decision, and he was already following his master. You stood there waiting for the ship to take off, but it never did. In fact the door opened once again and both of them walked out.

"Is everything okay?" You questioned with a small glimmer of hope that the ship might not start. Anakin was looking much happier now and Obi-Wan more upset.

"It appears," Obi-Wan spoke first. "That Anakin will be staying with you," he explained.

You looked at Anakin who was next to you now.

"Are you serious?" you asked quietly, though your heart was beating rapidly.

He looked up at Obi-Wan. "Thank you for your training, Master," he said respectfully. Obi-Wan nodded blankly.

"I don't know what I'll tell the council," he said almost talking to himself.

Anakin smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he assured. Obi-Wan looked up and smiled.

"Yes, well, I'll still have to pay you, Y/N," he said. "I'll go and get whatever supplies you'll need." He looked at Anakin again and laughed. "And good heavens hopefully some proper clothes." You both laughed merrily. You felt wonderful and couldn't stop smiling.

Obi-Wan left and Anakin hugged you tightly.

"You're really staying," you whispered.

He chuckled. "Yes, I am." He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "You were right, Y/N. I shouldn't try to push any emotions aside anymore." He rested his hand on your cheek. "I love you, Y/N." He grabbed your hand. "Let's go home."

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topsytervy · 4 years ago

Text

Not The Right Time ~ JJ Maybank

Blurb: JJ has a thing for you. Unfortunatley, it just isn't the right time.

Word count: 1,929 (give or take. did some last minute editing)

Warnings: mention of cheating, drinking, drug use (weed), swearing, not proofread so probably spelling mistakes, I think that's it.

Quick rundown because I have more of these than usual cause this one is slightly more descriptive of the reader (aka you): s/c = skin color, e/c = eye color, h/l = hair length, h/c = hair color, h/t = hair type (curly, straight, etc...)

Me somehow breaking out of my Rafe phase for a minute to write something JJ related? Yes, I am just as surprised as you are.

~~~~~~

JJ lounged in the hammock in the backyard, drinking his third beer of the night with a book next to him. This was a routine for him at this point. While you were out with your boyfriend, he went into the backyard to drink away his sorrows and stayed up until you got home to make sure you actually got home.

The nights when you texted him that you wouldn't be coming home, opting to stay at your boyfriends instead, were the worst for him.

If you asked JJ, your boyfriend was an asshole. He never liked him and probably never would. However, you were his best friend and roommate since you both graduated from high school so whatever made you happy was fine by him.

It just sucked that he wasn't the one who made you happy the way your boyfriend did.

JJ often found himself mesmerized by your beauty. Your beautiful (s/c) skin and (e/c) eyes often entranced him which usually caused you to nudge him.

"You good?" You'd ask.

"Absolutely peachy." He'd grin.

After all, How could he not be peachy with you around?

He noticed the way you'd play with your (h/l) (h/c) (h/t) hair mindlessly when you'd be focused on a movie or the way you picked at the skin around your nails when you got nervous.

JJ sighed as he crushed his now empty beer can and reached for another that sat in the cooler next to the hammock.

"Woe is me," he whispered, popping the tab of the new can.

He brought the can to his lips but pulled it away when he heard the front door open and close which caused a confused expression to cross his face.

He didn't hear a car pull up and drop you off like usual since your boyfriend often picked you up.

"Y/N!" He called, hoping that you'd hear him and that it was actually you and not an intruder.

He grew quiet as he heard faint footsteps from inside and the sliding glass door slide open.

"Yeah, it's me." You answered.

Your voice was barely above a whisper which caused JJ to turn his head to face you.

"Come join me for a drink." He waved you over, not being able to make out your face in the darkness.

You shuffled closer to JJ and the faint glow from the solar lights you guys had casted upon your face. JJs face dropped at the sight of yours.

"Oh my god. Y/N," JJ immediately dropped his can on the ground.

The contents spilled onto the grass as he took in your appearance.

You eyes were red from crying, black smudges of mascara on your face and your nose was slightly red, more than likely from the irritation of you constantly wiping it on your sleeve.

"What happened sweetheart?" He asked as he pulled you into the hammock.

"He's been cheating on me." You whispered, your voice hoarse as you laid on him.

He took in a sharp breath and his arms tightened around you. "How do you know?"

"He left his phone at the table when he went to the bathroom and I answered it. Before I could say anything a woman's voice came through and said hey baby. When I suggested she had the wrong number since this was my boyfriends phone, she said no this is Brett's number and that's when I knew."

JJ rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.

"I am so sorry Y/N." He whispered.

You shrugged, feeling numb.

It was quiet for a few minutes before you noticed the book next to him. "Whatcha reading?"

JJ took an arm from around you and grabbed his book.

"A book of Edgar Allan Poe's works." He answered.

"Can you read to me?"

JJ nodded as he opened the book. "Want me to start from the beginning?"

"You can if you want."

JJ flipped to the first page. "The Cask of Amontillado." He began as you made yourself comfortable.

After half an hour, JJ stopped and looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your mouth was slightly open. JJ smiled as he made himself comfortable in the hammock. You looked so peaceful and he wasn't about to risk waking you up just to try to get you in your bed.

He wrapped his arms around you and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over.

******

The next morning, you woke up with a small headache and placed your head in your hands.

"Hey, I made you scrambled eggs with cheese and those ham cubes you like along with some bacon."

Your head turned towards the voice and you saw JJ walking over with two plates of food, setting them on the patio table that was placed a few feet away from the hammock.

JJ walked back inside as you stood up and walked over to your breakfast. You stretched as JJ came back with a bottle of apple juice for you and a beer for himself, pulling out his chair before sitting down.

"I was thinking since neither of us work today, we could steal the HMS Pogue from John B and go out on the marsh. Just the two of us. smoke some weed, drink some beer. You know, the usual." The blonde suggested, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth as he did. "Hell, maybe even just stay out there the entire night. We'll pack plenty of food.“

You stayed quiet and forked some eggs into your mouth before reaching for your apple juice, attempting to open it. After a few unsuccessful attempts, JJ held out his hand and you gave the bottle to him. He opened it with ease and gave you the bottle back. You took a drink before returning to your food.

Technically, he wouldn't be taking the pogue without John B's permission. He had talked to John B about taking it after a call this morning, telling him what had happened. John B had said the boat was all his for the day and all JJ had to do was to let him know when JJ was planning on confronting Brett so he could get a few punches in.

"So…me, you, and the Pogue out on the marsh?" JJ asked again.

You sighed. " I don't know, J. "

"Okay, I know that last night was rough and I'm 100% sure Brett will get what's coming to him, but today is about making you feel better and I know theres nothing you like more than chilling in the middle of the marsh with a joint in one hand and a beer in the other, maybe some swimming beforehand." He saw you thinking about it and knew you were leaning towards yes so he drove it home. "Plus you like sleeping under the stars and you're always napping on the boat. Why not combine them?"

You bit your lip, the idea tantalizing.

You nodded. "Okay but don't be all mad cause I'm all mopey."

"I won't. I'll be fishing while getting high with my best friend."

" I thought JB was your best friend?" You smirked.

JJ placed a finger to his lips and sent you a wink. "Shh. Our little secret."

****

You sat on the blanket-covered floor of the HMS Pogue, a joint being passed between you and JJ as you sipped on a beer and ate the abundance of food JJ had brought with.

It was hours later, darkness had fallen and the stars had come out. JJ had stopped at The Wreck to order a shit ton of food before you took the Pogue out and paid for it all despite you offering to pitch in for half.

"Oh no no no. Rule #1 of friends supporting a friend whos been broken up with: the one who has gone through the break-up doesnt pay for anything the day after."

"Oh yeah? Who made that dumbass rule Maybank?" You crossed your arms, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, I will have you know JJ Maybanks Rules To Help A Friend Through Heartbreak is a number one best seller." JJ shot qt you.

"Oh yeah. I bet that that fake ass book is raking in all the fake ass dough and your signing plenty of fake ass boobs at your fake ass book signing." You nodded.

"Actually, the fake ass bookstore that is holding my fake ass book signing doesn't allow boob autographs. Something about it being inappropriate apparently." He grinned.

You took a bite of your sandwich as you passed the joint to JJ.

"You know what JJ?"

He hummed in response as he took a hit off the joint.

"This was really nice and I had a really great time today." You grinned.

JJ smiled, happy that the smile was back on your face. " I'm really glad Y/N/N. You know you deserve this, right?"

You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer before taking the joint back from the blonde.

"I'm serious, Y/N. You deserve this and way more. You deserve someone who can give you everything you need and want." JJ scooted closer to you.

"If I deserve everything like you say I do, J, then why wasn't I good enough for Brett." you whispered.

JJ took the joint from your hand and placed it in the ashtray he had set on the floor before moving next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling your body into his side.

"It's not that you weren't good enough for Brett, Brett wasn't good enough for you. He's a damn fool for letting you go. I've heard Kooks like Topper talking about how bad they want to date you. If a Kook wants to date you, a pogue who hangs out with me who every Kook hates, that means you're a pretty remarkable person." JJ told you.

You felt yourself smile at his words. "You always know what to say, J. Sometimes, I wonder why you haven't used that intelligent brain of yours to woo yourself a girIfriend."

JJ scoffed at your words.

"I'm serious JJ. You are so much smarter than you think you are. Both streetwise and bookwise. You read me Edgar Allan Poe last night as if it was your first language and didn't even stop to ask me what any words meant like you usually do around the others. You shouldn't hide your smarts, J. Smart you is way sexier than dumb you." JJ felt himself blush and you ruffled his hair as you turned your body to face his. "I wish you let everyone else see the JJ Maybank I see."

JJ sighed. "I don't woo any girls with my words cause it's either not the right time or not the right girl."

"Come on JJ. You're 20 years old and you mean to tell you haven't met one girl you didn't want to be in a long term relationship with?" You asked through a mouthful of sandwich, hand covering your mouth.

"I never said that."

your eyes widened as you swallowed your food and took a swig from your beer. "You like someone right now!" JJ rolled his eyes. " Oh my God. Maybank, spill! What's stopping you from going after her?"

JJ took the blunt from the ashtray and took a long slow drag before turning his blue eyes onto your e/c ones. "Like I said, not the right time. I have to wait until I think she's ready for a relationship."

~~~~~~

#jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank #rudy pankow #obx

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scvrllet · 3 years ago

Note

If you're still doing these, could I get a 🎫 concert ticket for Harry Potter and Once Upon A Time?

Glad to have found your blog!!!

I'm Lucifer, but people call me Luci or Luce, I'm 21 (22 in September), I identifiy somewhere around the nonbinary category, but I see gender as something trivial. I'm a panromantic demisexual and prefer they/her pronouns. 6'3 tall, long wavy blonde hair, black eyes. I wear glasses and usually skirts with old band t-shirts (that I actually listen to).

I always have a bunch or rings around my fingers as well as multiple ear piercings. I'm super pale, to the point that people often ask me if I'm sick.

I'm introverted, but I can be a social butterfly if required. I love listening as much as talking. I never really talk about emotions/feelings but anything else I'mhappy to chat about. I don't really react to things apart from my facial expressions. The lift of an brow, a smirk or an eye-roll will let you know how I feel about things without verbal confirmation. I'm always calm and collected, and my voice stays monotonous no matter what ; I don't stutter, yell or scream.

I'm highly intelligent and very sarcastic, and rarely laugh outloud, but smirk a lot. I might come across as rude and blunt but on the inside I am a softie, just don't show it often.

I love literature (especially classic), arts and learning languages (I currently speak 18). I'm also musically very inclined. I study History and mythology. When it comes to hobbies, I read and collect lots of things things such as lighters, tarot cards, night lights, rocks/crystals and books.

I have four siblings and am the oldest, but I don't really keep in touch with my family that much. I have a few good friends (2 or 3) and I don't even really need much more.

I'm a Virgo, Slytherin and INTJ-A if that tells you anything.

I'm not athletic in the least, but am in good shape. My body is an hourglass figure and I also got a bunch of tattoos.

I have a bad habit of smoking, and usually having a glass of scotch or wine with me (but I never get drunk or even tipsy). I love spending time near water, but hate getting wet. I usually take long walks outside after midnight while listening to creepypastas or true crime podcasts. I love the genre horror overall, yet I rarely get scared. The only thing I'm scared of is being scared if something. And Santa Claus (<-- no idea as to why).

If I were to go on an ideal date, it'd hopefully be something original and not the cheese classics, but I wouldn't mind them either. I just want to experience new things.

I don't really celebrate holidays (e.g. Christmas, Ester) since I was raised in an atheist/witchcraft household.

If I still might add something, when it comes to relationships I'm never overly dramatic. I don't, as previosuly mentioned, yell or really even cry. I don't get frustrated or suspicious easily. If I see any inclination that my partner might be e.g. cheating on me, I ask them about it directly and will absolutely under no circumstanses go through their phone, computer or start stalking them.

You wanted 3 random things, here :

1. I can't cook shit, I have set spaghetti on fire, cracked a pan in half and blown up a microwave.

2. I'm very unpredictable, but at the same time I like to stick to certain routines etc.

3. I've had my hair dyed more times that I can count with more colors than I know how to name.

Uhhh, I think that's all? I hope you have a good day :)

(🎫) CONCERT TICKETS - get a platonic or romantic ship/match-up from the fandom of your choice (max. two) along with a shirt headcanon

JOIN MY 4K FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

I ship you with....

Peter Pan

- Arriving on Neverland, in hindsight, was a mistake. Magic beans while very reliable were prone to mistakes every so often and so instead of appearing in the Enchanted Forest, you were on the beach of a large island. And what was the most odd of all, was not the strange feeling you felt upon arriving on the island, but the pair of eyes you could practically feel staring at you from the trees. Hoping that it was just an animal of some sort, you walked off the beach and headed to the path through the forest.

- Unfortunately for you, the feeling lingered, following you almost as you walked through the forest. Tall trees lined the path and every once in awhile you’d see some small animals scurry away. What seemed to stand out the most however were the silhouettes standing off in the side, deep within the trees but standing right below the sunlight for you to see clearly. There was four, than five, than six than......only one. Looking at your surroundings, you saw your footprints in the ground before you and it hit you. You’d been walking in circles the whole time and the silhouette was still there.

“Hello?” You called out, not sure as to whether or not the silhouette really was there.

Without a verbal response, the figure disappeared only to reappear a few feet in front of you.

You jumped back in shock but quickly regained your balance as you studied the person before you. It was a boy, looking to be around your age, with a questioning look on his face as he looked at you. “Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked you first!”

“And I’m in charge of this island!”

“You? In charge of an island? What is this Neverland?” You rolled your eyes at the possibility. Neverland was a place made up so that kids could fall asleep. Not a real place that you could visit.

“Yes it is, and I run things around here so tell me, who are you.” The boy replied, emphasizing his last three words as he spoke.

“As if, what’s next? You call your little Lost Boys to come prove to me?” You scoffed. To believe that you were on Neverland was already too much and all you wanted was to get home to the Enchanted Forest but it seems you’re stuck playing pretend with a boy who doesn’t want to grow up. A shame really

Smirking, the boy simply pressed two fingers to your forehead and before you could even say something, your mind went foggy and your vision was filled with black.

- To say you got off on a rough start was an understatement. The two of you were constantly at each other’s neck while he kept you on the island, the camp specifically, and didn’t let you leave due to belief that you were a spy of some sorts. Not that he had anything to hide. Not yet at least.

- As time went on however, the two of you had begun to form a friendship. It wasn’t anything big or odd, but it was definitely new. He’d be less of an ass to you and let you explore the island on your own (with some exception).

- Upon finding your out about your hobbies, he would discreetly try to surprise you with materials to help you engage in them even if Neverland’s magic still had some restrictions. He would still try to the best of his abilities.

I also ship you with....

Blaise Zabini

- Losing was one thing Blaise never took lightly. Competitive he was but even with his ambition and skill, it was the mundane things that revolved around luck that often made him lose. Like the stupid bet he made with Theo on whether Gryffindor would win or lose where the loser would have to make a full four course meal complete with drinks for all the Slytherins in their year. Unfortunately for him, he had lost unlike Gryffindor and now here he was, spending his Saturday afternoon in the kitchens and a cookbook Pansy had given him “to help”.

- Blaise didn’t know what he’d see upon entering kitchen. He was sure to see a few House Elves, perhaps he could ask them for help, but what he didn’t except was to see you standing in front of the stove with a pot spilt cleanly in half somehow and a fire burning below. And to make matters worst, you were simply standing there as if you had been frozen.

“Hey watch out!” He called out as a flame went up towards you. Pushing you out the way just in time, he managed to save you from the burn in return of him getting burned.

“Fuck.” He hissed out in pain. Gripping his arm as he put out the fire with his wand before dropping it on the ground.

Without a word, you simply grabbed your wand and waved it above his burn. You seemed to be muttering something, a spell of some sort, as a cooling sensation covered his wound. Looking down, he was shocked to see that the burn was actually healing.

“How, how did you.... Thank you.”

“I was practicing a charm, fire control, but thank you for the concern.”

Feeling sheepish for thinking that you didn’t have it under control, he ended up excusing himself from the kitchen to head back to his dorm where his friends immediately pounced on the chance to tease him for a variety of reasons.

- The next day, instead of going to Hogsmeade with his friends, Blaise stayed back at the castle to catch up on a paper he had failed to submit on time. Deciding on going to the library, sh was disappointed to see that almost all of the tables were taken. All but one in the far back corner. Quickly heading towards it, a sigh left his lips as someone dropping their book bag into the table beat him to the table: you.

“Oh did you need the table? I can leave if you’d like?”“ You said upon noticing him standing in front of the table.

“No, no it’s alright I just uh, planned on finishing a paper for Flitwick’s class.” He admitted.

“You can have a seat if you’d like, I’ll just be doing my own work and you can do yours.” You kindly offered and Blaise gladly accepted. He really need to finish this paper or else he’s be kicked off the Quidditch team so while he didn’t get the complete privacy he originally wanted, he’s fine with this.

As the two of you worked in quiet, occasionally Blaise would sneak glances your way which you ended up catching once.

“Hi.” was all you managed to muster out as you tried to contain the wide smile that wanted yo grow on your face.

Trying his best to not chuckle at your slightly flustered state, he mirrored your smile as he replied with a “Hello.”

#you didn’t mention romantic or platonic so i just made it platonic #long post #jens record shop #jens 4k follower celebration #(🎫) concert tickets #marvelousluci

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meowmerson · 5 years ago

Note

hi meowmers! just read your latest tomione fics and i'm so glad you're back here blessing us. would love to read your take on head boy & head girl tomione fic? or maybe an au where auror! hermione chases after dark wizard tom riddle

head boy head girl you say??????????????? one of my favorite tropes you say????????????????????????? I ACCEPT

–

Hermione knew it would be him. He was top of their class (a title she had been battling against him for since their first year) beloved by their professors and classmates, he was a natural-born leader, handsome, likable - it would have been outrageous for head boy to be anyone other than him.

Didn’t mean she had to like it.

Hermione always found something suspicious about Tom Riddle. She was certain she was the only one who thought so, save for maybe Harry, but then Harry was easily won over when people were kind to him. And Tom Riddle certainly went out of his way to be kind.

But he was mysterious. No one really knew where he was from - everyone knew he was an orphan, but no one knew how, or where he lived now. Everyone just thought he was a poor tortured soul and that those things should never be mentioned.

He had a close circle of friends who followed his every command and cowered in the face of his glare. She had seen Malfoy once laughing and subsequently cowering from nothing but a look from Tom Riddle, nothing more than a glance, and suddenly Malfoy was swallowing his laughter and averting his eyes to the ground. Malfoy didn’t do that for anybody.

How could someone so allegedly kind strike that kind of fear into someone’s heart with nothing more than a glance?

He was fake, she had decided. He was nothing more than secrets upon secrets shrouded beneath a pretty face, a friendly smile, an intelligent mind. But there was something there, beneath the surface. Something secret, something dark.

And Hermione never liked liars.

“Would you just admit you want to ride his dick til you pass out so we can move on?” Lavender drawled from her bed in the Gryffindor seventh year room.

Hermione sputtered for a solid thirty seconds while Padma and Parvati absolutely killed themselves laughing. Ginny, who was lounging on Padma’s bed while the twins lay together on Parvati’s, stared at Hermione awaiting her reaction with unrelenting glee.

“Lavender!” Hermione finally managed to choke out, bringing on another round of obnoxious laughter from the girls.

“Oh come on, Hermione,” Lavender said, “You have wanted to hop on that since first year!”

“I have absolutely no idea what you are–”

“Oh, look at him Hermione!” Ginny said, “That boy is sex on legs,”

“Whether or not he is sex on legs is not the point!” Hermione snapped, “Have you been listening to anything I’m saying? I have to share a living quarters with a boy who–”

“So you admit he’s sex on legs then?” Lavender interrupted.

“Ugh!” Hermione pushed herself to her feet, “I am finished with this conversation. I’m leaving.”

“Make sure you get back before curfew starts,” Padma said, and Parvati added, “Or Riddle will need to punish you!”

“Fuck all of you!” Hermione swore, and the uncharacteristically foul language sent the girls into another round of laughter.

–

She tried to speak to Harry and Ron.

Ron said, “Ah, this is about how badly you want to snog Riddle then, is it?”

Harry laughed, and Hermione picked up the bottle of firewhiskey they had snuck in and poured it out the window as revenge.

–

She put off returning to the common room as long as she could. Guiding the first years around had been alright, mostly because they split up those responsibilities and didn’t take them together, but they would be doing rounds tonight, together, just the two of them, then returning to the Head’s common together.

It all felt very strange.

Tom was stood outside the portrait to their common room when she arrived. “You’re nearly late.” He said.

“Nearly,” Hermione agreed, “But not quite.”

“Meeting up with your friends?” He asked as they started down the hall. He always did this, attempted friendly conversation, as if they were familiar enough to do so. She nodded curtly. “Did you meet up with any of them over the summer?”

“No,” She answered. She didn’t elaborate.

“Ah,” He replied, seemingly nonplussed, “It must be nice to catch up, then.”

When would this torture end?

“Yes, it is.” Hermione agreed.

“And did you have a nice summer?” He asked.

She glanced toward him, but looked away before she caught his eye. He was peering around the corridor, keeping an eye out for any students out after curfew or first years who had gotten lost. She wondered what he was playing at, why he was trying to make friendly conversation. What did he have to gain, here? What did he want?

“Miss Granger?” He pressed.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you had a nice summer.” She looked toward him again, and this time his eyes were fixed on her.

“Did you?” She asked, just to see the twitch in his brow in response. He did that sometimes, little ticks to show that his endless patience wasn’t really so endless. She loved to see it, see those glances into whoever he was behind his mask of perfection.

“Yes.” It was the shortest response he’d given her that night.

“Oh,” She said, and offered him a strained smile, “Yes, I did.”

He didn’t speak to her for the remainder of the evening, except for a polite ‘have a good night�� when they returned to the common room.

It felt like a win

–

They split up rounds, after that. They worked on a one night on, one night off schedule, trading off. It wasn’t typical for head boy and girl to do this, but Hermione had suggested it, and Tom hadn’t argued.

He never did, she found out. He had debated her countless times in class, but they had never had a personal conversation before this year, and it seemed no matter what she said, what she suggested, he tended to agree.

She didn’t understand what he was up to.

Her friends wouldn’t stop relentlessly teasing her, and wouldn’t listen to a single one of her suspicions. And why would they? She didn’t have anything to go on, just this feeling in her gut.

Maybe it was just an issue of attraction.

He was handsome, certainly, and extremely intelligent. He impressed her, and it had been a while since she had met someone who genuinely impressed her. He had a way with people that she always lacked, everyone liked him, maybe it was jealousy. Or maybe it was the way she had so often caught herself thinking about him over the year, wondering what it would be like to know him, for him to know her.

Was this feeling nothing but her own convoluted emotions making her over paranoid?

Living in close quarters to Tom was easy. He kept to himself, didn’t invite anyone over, she would only see him if he was reading in front of the fireplace in their shared common area. She never saw him up to no good, never heard strange noises or saw strange things. He was perfectly normal, perfectly good, perfectly perfect.

She was beginning to doubt herself.

“You know,” Harry told her once, “I thought I hated Draco for ages until I realized I just like blokes.”

“But you also hated Draco,” She reminded him.

“True,” He agreed, and shrugged, as if that didn’t really matter.

–

It was her turn for rounds, and she was dutifully making her way through her assigned route. It was a quiet night, she hadn’t run into any first-years sneaking around the castle, or third-years finding their way to the kitchens, or sixth-years hooking up in abandoned classrooms. She was grateful especially for the last one, she hated stumbling upon that.

She was about ready to finish, head back up to her room and go to bed, when she saw the slightest glow under a classroom door.

It only lasted for a moment before it was gone, like a candle being burnt out, or a spell being cast. She crept toward the door, it was probably a couple of naked teenagers again, trying to get their rocks off in the potions classroom. She pressed her ear against the door to see if she needed to knock or if she could barge in.

She could hear nothing.

She moved away, furrowed her brow. There was definitely someone in there, but they put up a silencing charm. Definitely a couple. She went to open the door, it was locked. So she cast an Alohomora, and to her surprise, nothing happened.

Something icy settled in her stomach. She could only think of one person that she could imagine casting such advanced locking charms. But it wasn’t his night for patrols, and she thought he was in his room.

She was being paranoid. She knew she should knock and demand whoever is in there comes out immediately, deduct house points for being out late and finish her rounds. She shouldn’t be overdramatic about this, lest she look like a fool.

She blew up the lock and removed the silencing charm.

She heard a boy yelp as she pushed the door open. There was a bit of smoke from the exploded lock that had to clear before she could see what was going on inside the room.

Malfoy stood inside, his eyes wide and wet, and Tom stood opposite, looking like he was trying very hard not to look angry.

“What is going on in here?”

“Miss Granger,” Tom said calmly, “Was blowing the lock truly necessary?”

“Was locking and silencing the room truly necessary?” She replied, but she was quickly distracted by Malfoy. He looked terrified, he was blinking rapidly, his eyes wet, and he was shaking like a leaf. She glanced between the two of them, Malfoy looking traumatized, and Tom looking the picture of poise, his eyes locked on her.

She wondered what could have been happening before she opened that door.

“Are you alright?” She asked Malfoy quietly.

“Draco sometimes has nightmares,” Tom answered, “It’s not something he is particularly open about. I was trying to give him a space to calm down with a bit of privacy.”

Hermione watched Tom for a long moment, examined the friendly tilt of his lips into an almost-smile, the gentle tone of his voice. He was for all intents and purposes, a dedicated friend.

Hermione wasn’t buying it. “I asked Malfoy.” She said.

Something changed in Tom’s expression then, something she hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t just the twitch of his eyebrow or a slight, barely present frown. His whole face went startlingly blank, and his eyes became sharp. She had never seen his eyes like that, focused and intense.

She looked back to Malfoy, who stared back and forth between them with wide eyes. “Malfoy.” She repeated.

He looked at Tom first, who met his gaze. Malfoy then looked back to her, and finally spoke, “Yes,” He said, and the breathiness of his voice made Hermione wonder what had been happening before she interrupted. Did people really sound like this just from crying from a nightmare? “I get night-terrors. Tom was simply calming me down.”

Hermione didn’t like the way Tom turned back to her with a smile. “If you don’t mind, Ms. Granger,” He said, “I’ll take care of Malfoy.”

Malfoy had not stopped shaking.

“I can take him back to his common room,” Hermione said, “It isn’t your night for rounds, Mr. Riddle.”

“I would rather Tom takes me back to the common room.” Malfoy interjected.

There was nothing more Hermione could do then, except look sadly at the state Malfoy was in and ask, “Are you sure, Draco?”

She used his first name on purpose. Malfoy blinked at her, and Tom turned his head slowly to look at her as she said it. She didn’t look at Riddle, kept her eyes on Malfoy and waited for his response.

He nodded, so there was nothing else she could do.

“Fine,” She nodded, and didn’t look at Riddle when she added, “Take him straight back to his common room, it’s after curfew and I don’t want to have to deduct house points.”

“Of course, Hermione,” Tom said.

It was the first time he ever used her first name.

–

Hermione didn’t see Tom that night, and she left her room early that morning.

She didn’t see him until breakfast.

“I need to tell you something,” She said to Harry and Ron, “Something I saw last night.”

“What is it?” Ron said through a mouth full of food.

She looked around the Great Hall. Tom Riddle hadn’t made his appearance yet, but Malfoy was at the Slytherin table. He looked normal, his typical haughty self, it was as if last night had never happened. But Hermione couldn’t chake the memory of his expression, frightened and shaking like a leaf.

“I was doing my rounds,” She said, looking back to Ron and Harry who were listening closely, “And I walked in on Riddle and Malfoy.”

“Doing what?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, “They were in the potions classroom and had a silencing charm and complicated locking charm on the door.”

“Doing what, though?” Ron pressed.

“I don’t know!” Hermione protested, “I can’t imagine what they could have been doing, but–”

“Were they fucking?” Ron asked outright.

Hermione sputtered for a moment, “No!” She said, “Well, I–I don’t think so. No. Malfoy looked terrified.” She thought of the two of them, standing there, Riddle’s calm stance, Malfoy’s wide, wet eyes. “No, definitely not. I blew the lock and walked in unannounced and they weren’t even touching, no clothes askew.”

“Wait,” Harry interjected, “You blew the lock?”

“Yes.” Hermione confirmed.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, “Why’d you do that?”

“I couldn’t unlock it.” Hermione shrugged, not understanding the fuss. “That’s not the point.”

“So what did they say?” Harry asked.

“They said something about Malfoy having nightmares,” Hermione sighed, “That he needed to calm down, and Tom was helping him.”

Ron shrugged, “Sounds believable to me.”

“Does it?” Hermione asked, astounded, “Does it actually?”

“Yeah, why not?” Ron asked, and commenced shoveling food into his face again, “They’re friends, aren’t they?”

“Riddle doesn’t have friends,” Hermione protested, “Have you ever heard him call anyone by their first name? Have you ever seen him spending time with someone outside what is absolutely necessary?” She didn’t miss Ron rolling his eyes, but she ignored it, “Something was going on, I’m sure of it. I’m just not sure what.”

“What does Malfoy have nightmares about?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, Harry!” Hermione replied, exasperated, “That’s not the point.”

“The point is,” Ron said through another mouthful, “Hermione is pissed her boyfriend was canoodling with another guy.”

“Ronald.” Hermione said sternly.

“Hermione.”

That wasn’t Ron. That wasn’t Harry. Hermione looked up to see Tom Riddle stood behind her two best friends, a small, friendly smile on his face. Ron’s eyes practically bulged out of his skull when he turned to see who was behind him, and he turned back to Hermione to raise his eyebrows and she knew what he was trying to say to her without words, ‘he calls you Hermione, huh?’

“Riddle.” She greeted, pointedly avoiding his first name.

“I was hoping I could speak to you.” Tom said.

“No.” Hermione replied, secretly delighted by the slight falter in his smile, “I’m in the middle of a conversation.”

“We just finished, actually!” Harry chirped, smiling at Tom and then turning back to Hermione, “Go ahead, ‘Mione. It’s fine.”

She wanted to kill Harry.

“Fine.” She said, and stood slowly, “We can talk.”

“Excellent.” Tom said.

They were on opposite sides of the long table, and the distance from where she was sat to the main door of the great hall felt like a funeral procession. She glanced toward him, over the heads of the students at the Gryffindor table. He looked straight ahead, his hands clasped behind his back, his head held high. He had excellent posture and a perfect mask. It felt dreamlike, walking alongside him with only a table full of oblivious students between them.

Once outside the Great Hall, Tom walked beside Hermione until they reached a relatively quiet corridor. It was lined with windows that overlooked the courtyard. Sunlight streamed in, and they stopped in the light of one of the windows, but Tom stood just outside of the sunlight.

She waited for him to speak.

“You blew the lock off the door.” Was the first thing he said. She didn’t understand why everyone was so hung up on that.

“Yes.” She confirmed, “You cast very complicated locking spells.”

He smiled tightly, “We wanted privacy.”

“What for?” She asked.

He paused, examined her for a quiet moment. Hermione wasn’t sure what he hoped to find, but he stared into her eyes for what felt like a very, very long time before speaking again, “Forgive me to saying so, Hermione,” He used her name again. She didn’t know why he did that. “But you seem suspicious of me.”

“Is there something I should be suspicious of?” She asked.

“I certainly don’t think so,” He laughed, “I told you the truth last night, I’m sorry if it appeared suspicious.”

“Why was he so afraid of you?” She tipped her chin up, tried to search his eyes for some kind of answer like he seemed to try to do with her.

He laughed, “Hermione,” He said her name again, she felt something uncomfortable coil in her gut, “He was not afraid of me. I don’t believe anyone has any reason to be afraid of me.”

She didn’t believe him. That was the strangest thing about all of this - despite his nice smile and his kind words, she couldn’t find it within herself to believe him no matter how she tried. But it would do no good to say so, so she looked away and said, “Of course. Forgive me, I’m a bit on edge.”

“Are you alright, Hermione?” He asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

You can stop lying to my fucking face, she thought. But she just smiled tightly and shook her head.

He reached out, gently laid his hands on her arm, and it took everything in herself not to flinch. “Let me know if you need anything.” He said kindly, “Perhaps we can start doing rounds together?”

She didn’t like the idea of spending any more time around him than absolutely necessary. But then she didn’t like the idea of him galavanting around Hogwarts at night, either. At least this way she could keep an eye on him.

“Alright,” She agreed, “Let’s do that.”

He smiled, and let his hand linger just a moment too long on her arm.

–

Hermione cornered Malfoy in the library.

“Draco,” She greeted, sitting down across from him where he was reading. He looked up, and promptly blanched.

“What the fuck do you want, Granger?” He snapped.

“Just checking in.” She said, “How are you feeling?”

He stared at her for a very long time, a sneer steadily spreading across his face. “Fine.” He spat.

“No more nightmares?” She pressed.

There was a split second, barely there at all, where his brows started to press together, and he looked confused. It was gone in a flash, and he averted his eyes and followed along, but it was all Hermione needed to know she was right. “Yeah, nightmares…” He agreed, “I’m fine, Riddle helped.”

She leaned closer, folding her arms on the table in front of her. “But it wasn’t really a nightmare, was it?”

Malfoy grit his teeth. “What are you on about?”

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Hermione repeated, “It was something else, right?” Malfoy was glaring fiercely at her now, “What happened to you in there? Why were you so scared?”

“Granger,” He started, and it sounded like a warning. Hermione ignored it.

“What did he do to you?” She pressed, “Malfoy, if you tell me, I can help you.”

Abruptly, Malfoy slammed his hands on the table and stood. He leaned toward her, and in a quiet tone, he furiously spoke, “I have never once asked for help from a mudblood,” Hermione sat back, the word sinking deep into her chest. She blinked once and willed herself not to show how it bothered her, “And I won’t start now.”

She stood and slammed her hand down on his book, let her magic seep out through her fingertips to set it on fire.

She left him there, frantically stamping out the flames, and felt foolish for caring.

–

She was studying in the heads common room. She didn’t usually do that, opting to study in her room instead, but she wanted a change in scenery, so she sat on the floor of the common room by the fire, taking in its warmth and focusing on her coursebook.

She didn’t expect Tom to sit in the chair across from her by the fire.

She glanced up, and saw he was staring at her intently. He hadn’t greeted her yet, just stared. It was evening time, and the room was dark except for the fire. She watched the glow play along his features, and felt something strange in her belly.

“Hello, Riddle.” She greeted first, because he wasn’t saying anything yet.

“Hermione.” He greeted, and smiled a small, private smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” She answered, “Why?”

“I heard about your conversation with Malfoy.” He explained, and she felt herself go cold despite the warmth of the fire.

She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure what she was meant to say.

He pursed his lips for a moment, then moved from the chair to sit on the ground across from her. “Hermione,” He said quietly, “I heard about what he called you.”

She suddenly felt very confused. She thought he would ask why she was still asking about him, still acting like he was suspicious. She couldn’t fathom why he, a Slytherin who had absolutely used that word before, would be concerned because someone called her a mudblood.

It wasn’t precisely that it didn’t bother her. It did. Every time someone called her by that name it made her feel angry, upset, ashamed, all at the same time. But she was used to it, to some extent.

“He’s called me that before,” She finally answered, “I know you’ve used that word before.”

“Not against you.” He argued.

A strange argument, because it hardly mattered who he used it against.

“Regardless,” She continued, “You’re hardly in a position to comfort me if someone calls me a horrible name.” His brow twitched, “Besides, it isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. I’m fine.”

“I’ve spoken to him,” Tom said, “He won’t call you that again.”

She felt well and truly lost. She couldn’t hide the confusion on her face even if she tried.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned with other parts of our conversation?” She asked.

It was a foolish thing to ask him, but she couldn’t help herself.

He laughed, glanced away for a moment to look into the fire. Hermione found herself unwillingly fixating on the glow of his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the way the firelight danced in his dark eyes and made them glow red.

“Do you know what I think, Hermione?” He asked, still looking into the fire. She didn’t answer, and after a moment he looked back at her, and there was something in his gaze that made her stomach twist. “I think there are better things we could be doing than fighting each other.”

Hermione suddenly found herself rather short of breath. There was no mistaking what he was implying, his tone of voice and the weight of his eyes made it very clear. Though for all of the female attention Tom Riddle received, she had never heard of him being so forward. Quite the opposite - she had often heard girls bemoaning the fact that Tom was so standoffish, refused to make a move or pursue anyone, was nothing but a perfect gentleman at all times.

He was trying to distract her, she thought. It was the only explanation. He was trying to take her mind off of things that he didn’t want her to be thinking of.

She wondered…

She set her book aside, leaned toward him slowly. There was no sound except for the crackling of the fire. She watched his eyes as she leaned toward him, closer and closer until there were only a few inches between them. He watched her, sat as still as a statue. She paused, left a breath of space between them and watched his expression, but he showed no emotion.

Quietly, she spoke, and as she did, his eyes fell to her lips, “I would love to know what it is you think we should be doing, Tom Riddle.”

His eyes met hers again, impossibly dark. She didn’t notice he lifted his hand until she felt his fingers drag gently up her arm. He didn’t move closer, he left that decision entirely up to her. Clever, she thought. To let her believe she is entirely in control, to ease any thoughts of suspicions that he should be hiding something by distracting her but making it feel like it is her decision.

Briefly, she did consider the possibility of going through with it. It would grant easy access to his bedroom, and she could surely find all sorts of things in there to clear some of his mystery. But there was no guarantee she would have a moment in there without his watchful eye, and she felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought of sleeping with someone to get what she wanted.

She wasn’t like him.

She could feel the heat of him, as strong as the fire, blazing against her chest. She was struck by the uncomfortable thought that some part of her, buried beneath the suspicion and frustration and anger, would like to kiss him. It made her angry, the way some parts of him seemed to call to her, it made her deeply uncomfortable that the thought of being with him made her stomach twist with anticipation.

It especially infuriated her that all of this was only a show. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that someone like Tom Riddle - intelligent, poised, enigmatic, Slytherin - would never look at her that way. He must think her a fool to fall for something as simple as this, to trip over herself because he gives her an iota of attention.

Hermione tilted her head. He still hadn’t moved. She found it fascinating, the way he held himself so still, allowing her to make all the moves. Somehow she doubted someone like him, someone capable of instilling os much fear in his friends, would be so submissive in matters like this.

“How stupid do you think I am?” She asked, breaking the silence with nothing more than a whisper. He blinked, a slight pinch to the centre of his brow. “What kind of simpering fool do you take me for?”

His hand dropped. “Hermione,” He started, but she caught his hand by the wrist and he fell silent once more.

“Perhaps next time,” Hermione spat, “We can come from a place of mutual respect, rather than pretending I am like every other person you have ever seduced, intimidated, or threatened into doing what you want.” His face was carefully blank, but he didn’t interrupt, he didn’t move, didn’t even pull his hand away. “You can start by telling me what was happening with Malfoy the other night, and then perhaps I can withstand your present long enough to have a conversation.”

He didn’t say anything, so Hermione turned to pick up her book and began to stand. Tom Riddle caught her by her wrist before she could get far, so quick and so sudden that he startled her. She dropped her book as he pulled her back down, and in a tone sounding very unlike him he spoke.

“How about we start with you telling me something,” He said, and she noted his voice was higher when he was angry, sharper, more cutting. It wasn’t a nice sound, not like the way his voice usually sounded. “Why do you care so much about what happens to Malfoy?”

“So you admit it?” She pressed, “Something happened to Malfoy?”

“Don’t you know that he hates you?” He spat, and this version of him was so different than any version of him she had seen before. She took in every inch of him, the downward curl of his sneer, the slight wrinkle of his nose, the cutting gaze, the slope of his brow. There was even a slight flush to his cheeks, a sign of life that she hadn’t even noticed wasn’t there before. “More than he hates Potter, more than he hates anyone, he hates you. He find you repulsive, dirty—“

“I have never cared what Malfoy thinks of me and I won’t start now.” She interrupted.

“Then why do you give a shit about what happens to him behind closed doors?” His grip on her wrist was bruising, but she wouldn’t flinch. This was the most brutal, honest display he had ever shared with her, and she wouldn’t miss a moment, wouldn’t shy away, not now when she was getting exactly what she asked for.

“Because it doesn’t matter how much of a bigoted arsehole someone is,” Hermione spoke through gritted teeth, “Doesn’t mean they deserve to be tortured.”

It surprised even her when she said it. She wasn’t sure what precisely it was she suspected when she found Malfoy shaking and terrified in that room with Riddle, hadn’t thought on the details too much. But it made sense to her somehow that someone so perfect and so poised, so falsely kind, could only be capable of horrible, unspeakable things.

Tom’s face closed off immediately, and any and all emotions she had been rewarded with was suddenly gone. His eyes went blank, cold, and a dead smile stretched across his lips. “Oh Hermione,” He murmured, “What a dark imagination you have.”

She snatched her wrist out of his grip, and realized a moment after he did that her hands were shaking. His eyes followed the movement of her hands as she picked up her book and pressed it against her chest.

“I’m not so easily fooled, Riddle,” She said as she stood, “You can deny it all you want, but we both know I’m right.”

“You always are, aren’t you?” He asked, his tone mocking, looking up at her from his place on the ground.

Such a strange and unusual stalemate, she thought, standing her him while he stared up at her with cold, emotionless eyes. She was too quick to call him out, it was too sudden, and because of that they were back to square one. He hadn’t admitted it, but he hadn’t denied it, and he hadn’t lashed out at her either. She might’ve expected more anger in light of her accusations, but he just sat there, the picture of ease, staring up at her as if he had nothing to worry about.

She didn’t say anything in return, instead she stormed to her room, shut the door, and cast three separate locking charms.

She didn’t sleep well that night.

—

Hermione wasn’t sure what she expected the following morning, but seeing Tom Riddle waiting for her on the couch in the common room stopped her in her tracks.

“Hermione,” He greeted.

“Riddle,” She replied, pointedly refusing to use his first name. “What do you want?”

“I’d like to walk you to the Great Hall.” He answered, standing smoothly. She narrowed her eyes.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I’d like to show you something.” He answered vaguely.

She didn’t like this, it gave her an uncomfortable feeling, but she wasn’t sure what else she could do. If she resorted to violence, its more than likely people would side with Riddle. Running away would do no good, as they went to school together, shared multiple classes, and slept in rooms next to each other. Not to mention, the idea of running away felt cowardly as well as foolish.

She sighed through her nose and nodded, approaching him with measured steps. He held his arm out to her with a smile as if to guide her, and she ignored it.

They walked in silence. He didn’t try to speak to her and she had no interest in speaking to him. She paid close attention to the corridors, trying to see if any of his friends were lurking about, ready to jump her. She kept a hand on her wand at all times, ready for anything, but nothing happened.

When they neared the Great Hall, she saw a head of white blonde hair lurking outside the entrance. She glanced at Tom momentarily, then looked ahead, tightening her grip on her wand.

Malfoy straightened as they approached, and Hermione readied herself for…for what, she wasn’t sure. It seemed foolish to start something right outside the great hall, and Malfoy didn’t have his wand in hand. His eyes were trained on the floor as they neared him, and he didn’t look up.

“Malfoy.” Tom greeted.

“Riddle,” Malfoy returned, and then more quietly, “Granger.”

Hermione had no idea what was happening, even less so when Malfoy squared his shoulders and spoke.

“Granger,” He repeated, louder this time, somehow managing to sound haughty and arrogant even while his eyes were trained on her shoes, “I apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was inappropriate and uncalled for.”

Hermione was at a loss of what to say. At her extended silence, Malfoy glanced up at her, and then toward Tom. His eyes quickly fell to the ground again, and to Hermione’s utter shock, he lowered his head in what was almost a bow.

She had seen purebloods do this often, mostly to their elders, bow their heads in respect. They rarely did it to anyone on their level, classmates or colleagues, and certainly never did it to muggleborns. “Please, forgive me.” Malfoy said.

Hermione turned her head slowly to look at Tom, who was watching Malfoy with a blank expression, but something dance in his eyes, something almost gleeful.

She turned her head back to see Malfoy, head still bowed. “I forgive you.” She said quietly, and watched the way his shoulders sag, like he was expecting differently.

He straightened, tipped his chin up and nodded before heading into the Great Hall. Hermione watched the empty space where he had just stood.

Tom started to move, but Hermione caught his arm before he could enter the Great Hall. “What in Merlin’s name was that?” She hissed.

“A gift,” He said, and stepped close to her, so close that she had to lift her chin, tip her head back to meet his eyes. “Did you like it?”

“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, and he smiled.

“You don’t like it then?” He surmised, looking like he was enjoying this far too much.

“What did you do to him to make him do that?” She snapped, keeping her voice low.

He dipped his head just a bit, and whispered, “Nothing more than he deserved,” Then he straightened up again, and continued, “Don’t you like him better this way?”

“What are you doing?” She repeated, quickly losing her temper.

Tom Riddle smiled, an unusual thing, because it wasn’t just a quirk of his lips. It was a fully-fledged smile, one that showed his teeth, dimpled his cheek. Hermione felt that smile deep in her belly, twisting and tugging, shortening her breath. “It’s time for breakfast.” Is all he said.

“I’m not eating with you.” She said, furious at how breathy her voice sounded.

“I would be surprised if you did.” He answered.

He took her gently by the arm, and it was only then she realized she had never let go of his arm. She let go as if burned, but didn’t shy away from the gentle fingers on her arm. He guided her toward the entrance to the great hall, and waited until they had entered, until they had caught the gaze of the students nearest to the entrance, before he dropped his hand and nodded his farewell, heading toward the Slytherin table.

Hermione ignored the twisting in her belly, the heat where this hand had touched her arm, and wondered what it meant that when she turned her head to peer over the heads of all the students as she walked toward her table, Tom Riddle’s eyes were still fixed on her.

#Anonymous #meow writes #this was sOOOO FUCKING LOOOOOOONG LOL SOZ #tomione

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zosociologist · 4 years ago

Text

“Dating Johnny Thunders would be like...” Headcannon

(a/n: I will either be loved for finally making this, or hated because it took this long; this is also kinda longer than my usual dating headcannons because I was really feeling the first meeting idea; "MWABRIM" you know da vibes😌🍷)

Warnings: Implied smut, but nothing severe.

(a/n: ALSO, I MADE THE FOLLOWING GIF MYSELF BECAUSE APPARENTLY THE CITIZENS OF TUMBLROPOLIS DON'T KNOW WHAT A MATTRESS IS DUE TO THEM SLEEPING ON JOHNNY FOR ALL THESE YEARS)

You and Johnny met each other under funny circumstances

You own a nice little unisex boutique that all the lovers of ✨G L A M✨ and daring fashion are OBSESSED with

Rockers, groupies, and even big artists and musicians alike are in and out of your store daily for eye-catching and jaw dropping pieces

It only made sense to see him come in one evening with a friend of his that didn't look too bad himself

You were ringing up a customer, but not really paying attention to their advances as they were trying their hardest to flirt and fucking FAILING.

You were too busy checking out the dark haired guy staring down a pair of cheetah print platform boots that you'd love nothing more than to see him rock the hell out of😩

Everything was good until you were caught slipping and he saw you eyeing him returning a cute smirk in your direction...

In which you panicked and finally went back to minding the customer who finally gave up with the flirting

By the time you looked back over to the table stand with the platforms, he and his friend were gone, and so were the cheetah print boots (you celebrated in your head over that little detail) they had moved onto looking at blouses

About two customers later, you turned around to place a black sheer glitter and feathered robe that a customer decided they weren't getting in a basket to return to it's aisle, when you hear someone on the other side of the counter clear their throat and greet you-

Slightly startled yet hopeful you turn around a little faster than you would have liked to see the dark haired mystery man and his friend ready to check out-

"I didn't mean to scare you", "No! It's fine I was just putting away some things, you didn't scare me at all. Did you both find what you were looking for?", "Yeah everything turned out fine, this is a nice place you've got here. You don't have to worry, we weren't gonna steal anything, in case that's why you were peaking a little."

You wanted to sink into the floor-

"Oh god no, I didn't think that at all- *immediately thinks of lie to cover up that you were staring because he's hot* -I just saw that you were looking at the cheetah platforms, I'm glad you're getting them. They'll look good on you(:" *you had to take a chance bc you'd never forgive yourself if you didn't*

It payed off and THEN some. He introduced himself as Johnny and his friend's name was David. He told you about their group and invited you to see them the following night

Of fucking course you were gonna go see them, how could you say no?!

The following day you closed the shop early and rounded up some close friends for pregame and then you all headed to the club where "The New York Dolls🍸" would be playing, and to your surprise the person at the door said that you were on "the list" and guided you and your friends to one of those rounded booths close enough and with perfect view of the stage.

When the show started the boys came out and you saw Johnny. With a Gibson Les Paul Special in hand. And wearing the fucking platform boots. The match you lit to light your cigarette almost fell on you while you watched in awe. The whole show was nothing less than an out of body experience that you'd replay in your head for weeks to come.

After the show when the crowd died out, you and your friends stayed back as ordered by the same doorman.

When the Dolls came out from the dressing rooms you all got acquainted and they invited you and your friends to this cool afterparty and you and Johnny were together the entire way to the kickback just vibing off of the concert high✨

The afterparty was a blessing in disguise because in the house where it took place there where so many spots where you two could be away from the crowd and just talk and actually get to know each other

So there you both were, lounging in a poolside conversation pit just watching the stars and getting wrapped up in deep and meaningful conversation (all elevated by some trees you scored from one of your friends to smoke😌)

Okay so maaaybe you both got really into the moment. AND MAAAYBE you ended up having fucking COSMIC high sex when you both ditched the party and headed back to your place. BUT WHAT MATTERED MOST is that you really love this guy and he loves everything about you😩

He admires you and loves your bold persona and lifestyle and you love his drive and will to just exist and perform unapologetically

Johnny is a man that loves to give affirmations, he absolutely loves to praise you and give compliments whenever he can. He was over at your apartment once helping you rearrange your living room, and you were hanging up a painting that you got recently and hung it up crooked on accident....this man said that the crookedness adds 💫character💫 to the room....😗.......chile.......anyways........

You love the fact that he is actually a hopeless romantic so you don't feel cheesy when asking him out on a stroll in the park or to go stargazing, most of the time he beats you to it actually!

You are convinced Johnny is obsesssssed with your apartment. He always jumps at the opportunity of you inviting him over because you make it such a safe space. He writes a lot of his music over in this one corner of your bedroom where you managed to fit a green velvet corner sofa, next to this big window that overlooks other apartments and the city skyline.

You also have a collection of memoirs and other books that you hold dear to you and he very much enjoys laying his head in your lap while you read to him and then discuss thoughts and interpretations about each chapter. You usually follow up these literature hours by blazing some herbs while you play a few choice records. That's a typical Sunday evening for you guys.

The support you two have for each other is OFF THE CHARTS. You show up and show out for EVERY one of his shows and you'd always tell your friends, and then they'd tell their friends and the chain continues.

Johnny is in your boutique Every Other DAY. Either by himself or with one of the boys and it's worse than before now that you've given him a pass to inventory. He buys the good shit before you can even get them onto the shelves and hangers😖

He also finds it hot that you can flip the sign on the dressing room doors to occupied (he likes to see how quiet you can stay when he-....you know😉)

Did I already say that he loves everything about you? BECAUSE HE DOES. You're like a- in his words, "fucking ANGEL that was sent down as a pardon in this cruel world💞"

He absolutely adores your skin and loves to watch you take care of it, and he loves when you wash and take care of your hair as well and even asks to help you out sometimes. His favorite thing ever is helping you put curlers in and massaging your scalp with oil or grease, it feels like you're getting a spa treatment to him and honestly, it kinda makes him feel like he doesn't do anywhere NEAR enough to keep his hair healthy like he should.

He loves your smile and how you laugh at some of the shittiest jokes and even things that people wouldn't understand. Your occasional jists of sarcasm always get him too.

He also likes to hold you. There will sometimes be random points in the day where he won't say a word, just walk up behind you and rest his head on your back. You never question it, you find it wholesome and endearing. And sometimes you do the same thing. He could be in the middle of practicing on his guitar and you'll just lay your head on his shoulder and he'll put everything aside just to give you his attention because he feels you deserve that much, and then some.

You both have a passion for many interests and a passion for each other and that's why you work so well together

Call it cliche if you WANT but you were literally MADE for one another💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

#STOP I THINK THIS IS MY BEST ONE YET #oh I'm never gonna stop doing these😌#the new york dolls #glam rock #proto punk #70s glam rock #johnny thunders #John Anthony Genzale #headcannon #classic rock #classic rock fanfic #my writing #johnny thunders & the heartbreakers #x black!reader

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years ago

Text

Drapetomania.

Drapetomania- An overwhelming urge to run away.

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader.

Genre- Angst, business!au

Word count- 2.73k

Warning- Mention of intake of alcohol, smoking and plans of running away.

Summary- A friend as good as ready to run away with you but you stop him dead in track, wanting solitude away from the cruelty of your world.

Ever felt like wanting to turn a blind eye towards all your responsibilities and just run away?

The night was cold, gusty winds blowing through the open curtain of the ball room. Sounds of wine and whiskey glasses clattering filled the air. Sniffs of all sorts of cuisines from around the world had everyone's mouth watering. The entrance to the room leading up to the podium had a crimson carpet taut. All dressed fancy, women in gowns, men in tux.

You yourself adorned a glitter black red flowing gown. Elegantly falling off your shoulder. The dress starting black, fading into red paired with a black bow heels, which was hidden by your gown pleats.

This was your life as the next head of your enterprise. Well, your father's company to be precise. It wasn't bad living in a world full of business talks, money exchange and complacency.

Your company has earned its name as one of the top three of your country, alongside the Lee and Kim enterprises. The competition between all three companies was cut throat. All united and tranquil though, amidst all sorts of competition and the want to win, you were all acquaintances.

All your parents dated a long time back, starting from their ancestors, passing through generations now passing onto you.

Business ran in all of your blood.

As soon as you'd received your masters degree, your parents had immediately given you the post of the assistant manager at their company, not giving you a chance to state what your interests lie in.

It wasn't half as bad as you'd thought it would be. You made a couple of friends going through the same as you, Lee Taeyong from the Lee Enterprise. Kim Doyoung and his younger brother Kim Jungwoo, from the Kim Corporations. Lastly, Jung Jaehyun from Jung Entertainments, CEO in training, a current partner and your fiancé.

Yes, the Jung's and your family decided to merge ownership to create a much stronger stake.

This world, as lavish it sounds, snatches all types of freedom from you. Having money doesn't sound that bad, right? Having power sounds great, doesn't it?

Well, it really isn't, you didn't get to enjoy the adult life you'd hoped for growing up. Not many stay beside you until you spend dollars on them either. The power either scared them or had their jealousy drive them away from you.

Responsibilities came in one by one as a chain, giving you little to no time to breathe, adding onto that your wedding in a few months. You tried talking your way out of the arranged relationship, but it was futile. It was set once then it's set. No more turning points from there.

The lad you're getting tied to wasn't bad, neither had he been rude to you, nor does he have that cockiness almost every other business man has. The arrogance was absent too. But rather, he was a gentleman, an absolute eye candy, a hard working young man. You were friends, as previously mentioned. You'd spoken the next day after the arrangement as you'd ran straight to the closest of your friends, Lee Taeyong, to bawl your eyes out of distaste.

Jaehyun didn't want the marriage either, both of you were still so young, just starting your lives.

Taeyong had to go through the same, but unlike your parents, they actually listened to him.

That leads you to today, standing by the casement of your hotel room after exchanging a few formal greetings by the party hall, having Taeyong sit by the bed as your parents made their ments about the future of the company, possibly even announcing your marriage plan.

"You know this hotel has a huge smoking prohibited board outside right?" Taeyong asked, clearing the air, coughing, watching you take swig after swig of your half burnt cigarette. You laugh at your friends' talks and silent complaints. This was the real you, you back talked, you screamed, you spent money on buying graphic t-shirts rather fancy clothes, you smoked, clubbed on the weekends. The real you was totally in contrast to you in front of the others. You were expected to be perfect, mannerisms on point not to disobey even.

"Yeah? And?" you said, puffing out the tobacco filled air right onto Taeyong's face, chuckling as he dramatically starts choking, exaggerating it a bit too much than required.

"I'm not going to help you when you get arrested," He said, shrugging his shoulders, standing up from the edge of the bed and standing beside you, taking the stick out of your hands, throwing it out of the window. You at him, looking up because of the height difference, "health comes first, princess" he said in feigned politeness, earning a smack on the shoulder as a reply from your end, "Oh fuck you, Lee" you reply with a petty tone having the toxic been taken from between your fingers.

"So you dragged me all the way up to cuss at me or you have something to tell me?" he asked, breaking the silence taking over the air. You lean forward by the sill, looking outside the window as you let out a sigh, taking a whiff of the blustery night before turning towards Taeyong who already had his focus on you.

"It's about the marriage, and starting today, I-uh..I'll be taking over the company. I don't think I'm ready for it, Tae" you say, looking down at where your dress met the carpeted floor of your hotel room.

You've had this talk with him multiple times, and he always had the same answer. What could the poor boy say anyways?

"Y/n listen-" he was cut off by a soft knock on the door, the both of you whip your heads towards the door when the knocking occured again, "The door's unlocked!" you voice out.

The door knob rattled the slightest, opening the wooden block by a little. "Y/n" a deep voice spoke, the door opening wider to display Jaehyun on the other end, a red velvet tux matching your clothing adorned his structure. "Jaehyun! Hey man!" Taeyong exclaimed, making his way towards the boy who stood with a wide smile after seeing his friend. "Hey Tae! Glad to see you didn't flee away from the party like you did last time" the boys laughed, embracing each other, you letting out a chuckle yourself.

"Someone here, wouldn't let me run away until i take her along with me, I'm not stating names" Taeyong said jokingly, Jaehyun laughing at it, you poking your tongue out at the boys.

"Can't have the spotlight taken away from the main, now can we?" Jaehyun said, the boys fist bumping at their adjoined 'tease Y/n until she's fuming' agenda.

"Back to why I'm here, Your father's expecting you downstairs" Jaehyun looked over at you, your figure leaning against the now closed casement. "But i don't want to go down there" you reply grumpily, making your way towards the bed about to flop down, only to be stopped by Taeyong with his hands around your waist. "You're going to ruin your dress up, doll. Your mom won't let you breathe, then" he said pulling you up as you stand up right.

"Right, almost forgot, thanks" you say, smoothing out the crease. Taeyong then pushed you towards your other friend, him catching you by your forearm. "Happy acting perfect! Oh also, all the best for the same" Taeyong said, waving as Jaehyun started pulling you out the room, ignoring your protests and whines.

"Jae, i don't want to! They'll ask me to give speeches and you know how much i hate that!" you complain, trying to put all your weight onto the ground to make it hard for him to pull you, but he kept going with ease. "You don't really have to, we've finished that part of the day, thank the lords"

Jaehyun said, drawing a cross as you laugh at his antics.

"Then why does father need me?" You see him pause the walk down the hallway towards the marble staircase, too fancy for your liking but already grown accustomed to it.

"Because, they wanted to discuss something about the marriage" he said, resuming his steps.

"What about it? There's still 7 months for it" you said, earning a sigh from the lad. This time, he stopped again, turning around to face you, gripping your shoulders in a soft, comforting grip.

He looked at you hesitantly. Sensing something wrong, you grip his palms that rest on your shoulder, looking at him with a soft expression. "Jae.. Is something wrong?" you ask.

"Y/n..about the marriage" he started, clearing his throat slowly then looking you straight in the eyes. "They.. My parents and yours.. They decided to.. Uh" he stopped, contemplating whether to let it out or not.

"They decided to what? Jae just spit it out" you started to grow impatient.

"They decided to prepone our wedding"

-x-

You run down the hallway, towards the huge double doors leading to the party hall, frantically searching for your father, Jaehyun hot on your trail.

"Y/n wait up-"

"Father." you call out, finding him seated beside your mother, sipping on his whiskey.

"Ah! If it isn't my pride! Y/n, your mom and Mrs.Jung-" he started, you cut him off.

"Father, could i have a word with you in private?" you say, voice void of any form of emotion.

"Of course, darling. Excuse me" he looked at the guests seated in the round table, smiling at them as you led him away from the crowd, to the hallway you'd previously run down.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He said, smile so wide it had to be fake. "You prepone the wedding?" your voice slightly quivered, crossing your fingers hoping it wasn't true.

"Ah yes! I see Jaehyun already told you. I was thinking-" he started off again, with that honey coated voice of his. "why did you do that?" you step back, stumbling a bit. "Because the quicker the marriage, the faster the merge and more the profit, baby. It's all a full circle" he smoothened your hair out, you smack his hands away. "I'm not ready for a marriage yet, father! Two weeks? That's too early!" you scream at him, disbelief evident in your voice. "Oh of course you're ready! You're the daughter of a businessman, you're born ready!" he said, with pride, his shoulders pulled back.

"I-i'm really not, dad. It's too soon, i don't want it. I'm going to call off the wedding-" you shakily say, turning around to make your way back to where Jaehyun stood, to be pulled back with much force.

"Listen Y/n, It isn't about what you want or what you don't. You're ready when i say so, you get married when i say so. If you, ever, dare ruin our partnership with the Jungs, you see what you'll have to face." he said with a glare, giving you one last look before pausing to correct his bowtie, making his way back to the ballroom.

Taeyong who had just so happened to make his way down the stairs, had unintentionally eavesdropped the entire conversation. He'd wanted nothing more than just to pull you in close, but after scanning the room, he saw your fiance standing there, by the corner, looking at Y/n then at him.

Taeyong nodded his head forward, wanting Jaehyun to come in and soothe you with comfort talks, but the latter shook his head.

Your soon to be husband would probably be the last person you'd want to see, and so he faded back into the crowd.

Taeyong hesitated first, having two successors seen together at a party isn't a news that should reach anyone, unless you're engaged, but seeing you let out a feeble sob, pulled his last string, and he made his way quick down the stairs, the hallway, pulling you into a tight embrace as soon as he reached you.

"T-Taeyo-" you start between your feeble sobs, controlling yourself to not have a full on breakdown and create a scene at the party. "Shh doll, don't say anything, i heard it all" his voice calming, rubbing your back his palms in a comforting manner. "It's too e-early, Tae, i haven't even s-started living my life to th-the fullest yet and here-" you pause to inhale deeply, "-here i am, getting pulled in work after work, cutting my dreams out c-completely" you sob harder into his chest.

"It's alright.. " he said, slowly starting to make his way out the crowded area, back up the stairs to where your rooms were located, unlocking your door upon reaching.

"Is it? Of course it isn't Tae!" you let out louder now having the freedom to breathe normally, speak out all your pent up frustration.

"It's just the stakes he cares about.. Not me, never has it been me and never will it be me." you spoke up before he could.

"It was always about business. Never about me personally, and that hurts for thinking." you stop, burying your head into your palm, crying your heart out.

Taeyong stood there, in front of you with a saddened glaze hooding his dark hazel eyes. The words you let out came from a very heartbroken, left to feel the pain alone girl.

This is the harsh world of business and entertainment.

He made his way closer to you, kneeling down in front of you, placing his hands over your legs to get you to look at him. No vail.

"Y/n..doll, you see, we were forced into this world prior to adulthood, no consent whatsoever, we're just robot's basically, programmed to be perfect in all aspects." he started slow. "But there's nothing we can do about it"

With that the room went silent. The only sounds being from the loud acoustic downstairs and your sobs.

You get up from your bed all of a sudden, sadness now turning to desperation and want for freedom. You make your way into the closet, taking out your already packed luggage, stuffing in whatever was left outside.

"I'm really not ready-" "Y/n? What are you doing?" he said, voice panicked watching his friend throw random fabrics in. "And I'm tired of this-" "Y/n stop-" "-all of this" "Y/n-"

"I should've done this long back-"

Taeyong grew even more panicked every second passing by, it only worsened when he saw you take the luggage and make your way towards the door. He took a hold of your hand in a tight grip as you felt the air turn black around you. It was hard to breathe with all the thoughts running through your head.

"Our world." you start, not trying to break out of his grip, slowly placing your hand over his.

"Our world Taeyong.. It's too cruel, harsh and dark even." you continue, stopping midway to look around you and then back at him, "none of us are safe in this world, none of us are happy, truly." you say removing his hands gently from the grip he had on yours.

Turning around once again, Taeyong was quicker. He caught your hands the second time, in a softer grip.

"I know."

"I know that our world is cruel. We don't experience the same as the others but Y/n..if you'd maybe, just maybe, -"

"Maybe if you'd let me, i could be your safe space in this harsh world"

Taeyong stated, looking at you with nothing but sincerity.

You contemplate for a while, option tempting. You could run away and not be alone. But that would only ruin his image. You blink your tears away, shaking your head.

"No Tae.. You don't deserve to waste your life following me. You deserve so much better than that" you said, breaking free from his grip once again, smiling at him with a heavy heart before making your way out the door.

Taeyong felt his own eyes glaze over, watching his friend walk out the door, maybe now towards the exit and out towards freedom.

When Taeyong looked at you, he saw a reflection of himself. A helpless, broken young adult wanting nothing more than love and solitude.

But now that you're gone, Taeyong was left alone, with no one to confide in.

And worse, he was left without a reflection.

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