#Just a few more angsty fanfics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pathologicalreid · 1 year ago

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buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #h writes (hypothetically)

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fandomfablesunleashed · 4 days ago

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Out in the Open

Law x reader (she/her) ft. Heart Pirates

Part of the Polar Tang Chronicles but can be read as a standalone! (They're all just various one-shots featuring the Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates)

Summary: Your crew discovered that you and Law are closer than you seemed when the two of you stumbled out disheveled of his quarters one morning due to the ship’s alarm. After the battle, Law left, leaving you to endure the crew’s relentless teasing—which eventually escalated a bit too far.

Tags: suggestive, obvious mentions of sex (but no smut), nudity, hickies mentioned, swearing, teasing, kinda crack, a bit angsty

Words: 5.6k

Notes: I had a lot of fun writing that one! I considered using it for a longer fanfic, but the one I’m currently working on (which will take a while to complete) doesn’t quite match this vibe. Still, I’m thinking about doing more one-shots with this kind of atmosphere—just some daily life moments with Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates. I already have outlines for two: one where Penguin and Shachi accidentally walk in on Reader and Law, and another where Reader gets tipsy with Ikakku (I'm more than open to your suggestions)

English is not my first language

Masterlist

You woke up, nestled under the covers and enjoying a morning of quiet bliss. You snuggled closer to the warm body next to you. Law.

“Morning,” he rasped, kissing your collarbone tenderly.

You hummed happily in response, exposing your neck to him, and he quickly took advantage and started putting his lips all over it. His hands moved to explore your naked skin slowly. You tilted your head to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. You both made out lazily, taking your time to relish one another. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of quiet moans and sighs, passion building with every touch. Lost in the sensations, you were completely oblivious to the world outside your small haven.

Then, the sudden blaring of the alarm shattered the peaceful atmosphere like glass. You both jolted upright, the reality of the situation crashing down on you like a bucket of cold water. The moment of intimacy was gone, replaced by an urgent need to spring into action.

You and Law hurried out of the captain's lodgings, your attires randomly assembled of whatever clothes had been within reach. You couldn't take the time to look presentable; the ship's alarm was a call to action, and you had to respond quickly.

As you stepped into the hallway, Law's expression was grim; his mind already focused on the impending danger. You took your eyes from him, and you regretted it immediately as you found yourself face to face with a few of the crew members. Their gazes flicked between Law and you, taking in your disheveled state, and a murmur of surprise and recognition rippled through the group.

Law clenched his jaw, cursing silently as he realized your secret was out. With a stern glare, he stepped forward, taking charge of the situation. “Alright, listen up! We don't have time to waste ogling. We've got a dangerous situation on our hands, and we need to spring into action now.”

Law's voice cut through the commotion, commanding and resolute, as he issued orders to prepare for battle. The air was charged with urgency as the submarine broke the surface, and without hesitation, you leapt onto the deck alongside your crewmates.

As the ships closed in, the sounds of battle began to swell. The creak of wood, the sharp clang of blades, and the guttural cries of the enemy pirates filled the air. They swarmed over the rails, swords, and other weapons gleaming as they poured onto the deck.

Law stood at the helm, calm and focused, his stern gaze tracking every movement below. You stood beside him, gripping your weapon tightly, a determined edge in your eyes. For a brief moment, his eyes flicked to yours.

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

With that, you plunged into the chaos.

The Heart Pirates fought with fierce determination, refusing to give an inch to the invaders. Swords clashed, bodies collided, and the deck became a storm of violence. Law, as always, took the lead, enforcing his Devil Fruit power and cutting through the most dangerous foes with a precision that left no room for error.

By the time the battle ended, the enemy was in full retreat, their ship disappearing over the horizon. Slowly, the tension on the deck eased, and cheers broke out. The crew’s voices rose together, celebrating their victory as they let the weight of the battle fall away.

“You okay?” Law asked softly, standing next to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, a weary smile curving on your lips. “You?”

“I'm… fine,” He reached out a hand, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You fought well,” he murmured quietly, his eyes searching yours.

Law suddenly became aware of the crew's gazes, noticing the smirks and winks they were shooting in your direction. He shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing a subtle shade of pink. He quickly stood back to address the crew.

“Alright, everyone. You did well,” Law said, his voice firm and commanding once more. “Let's get this mess cleaned up, and everyone back to their duties.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

You were used to the attention and the rumors that swirled about Law and you, but being caught in a compromising position earlier still made you feel awkward and exposed. You felt a pang of irritation at Law's sudden departure. You understood his need for privacy, but it still stung a little that he had left you there to deal with the crew's prodding alone.

“So... how do you feel about the captain?” Shachi asked with a smirk.

“That he is being an ass,” you muttered angrily, starting to clean up, hoping it would allow you to leave soon.

The crewmates snickered at your insult.

“Damn,” Penguin remarked with a grin. “It's the first time I've heard someone call the captain an ass and live to tell the tale.”

“I guess being the captain’s lover has its perks. You can get away with more than most.”

You bristled at that comment. Law was a strict captain, and you knew that others respected him. Being able to call him an 'ass' and getting away with it did feel satisfying, but you certainly didn’t appreciate the implication that whatever you had with Law granted you special privileges.

You felt exhausted, and you didn't have the energy to argue with them. Instead, you let out a weary sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly as you snapped back at the crew member who had spoken. “Can you just shut up and do your job?” You felt hot and embarrassed as you unzipped your hoodie a bit, looking around to busy yourself with something.

The crew members snickered at your response, clearly enjoying the chance to tease even more.

“Oh, is that something you told the captain this morning, too?” someone jibed,

Your frustration boiled to the surface. “You guys suck,”

But as soon as the words left your mouth, Penguin quipped back, “Not as good as the captain on your neck this morning.”

You froze, your eyes widening in shock, and your hand instinctively reached up to touch your neck, where Law had indeed spent a lot of time just this morning. You hadn't even had a chance to look in the mirror yet, and now you realize that unzipping your hoodie, or actually Law hoodie, which you noted with a mental curse now, was a wrong move.

Ikkaku cast you a sympathetic glance. “Yeah, we can see those hickies,” she noted with a wry smile.

Shachi immediately added. “We would have to be damn blind not to notice them.”

Penguin grinned cheekily and chimed in. “Who knew Captain was such a sucker,”

The crew members continued their teasing, their jokes, and comments, escalating with every word. You felt as if you were drowning in a sea of ribbing, and you just couldn't take it any longer. You spun around and stalked away, leaving the laughing crew behind.

As you stormed off, you overheard a puzzled Bepo comment, “I don't know why everyone is making a big deal out of this. She's been staying with the captain for months now.”

The crew's confusion only seemed to grow, and the explanation fell into a series of muttered exchanges.

“What?!”

“You didn't know that?”

“None of us did!”

You sought sanctuary in your and Ikkaku's room, isolating yourself from the rest of the crew for the remainder of the day. Various crew members came by, attempting to apologize through the door, but you refused to speak to anyone but Ikkaku.

You heard their voices through the door, their tones ranging from apologetic to pleading.

“Oh, come on, we were just teasing.”

“We're happy for you, really.”

“Come out, will you?”

“We're sorry, okay?”

You were not the only one avoiding everyone. Law was also absent, and nobody managed to catch a glimpse of him. The crew was left wondering how to mend the situation, and after a while, they came to a consensus. Someone needed to speak to Law and try to smooth things over.

And that's how Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin, Law's longest serving crewmates, and closest friends, found themselves standing outside his room. Summoning his courage, Bepo finally raised a trembling paw and struck the door with a soft, tentative knock.

There was a pause before Law's voice echoed through, a grumpy and dismissive, “I'm busy.”

The trio exchanged nervous glances, their resolve faltering for only a moment before Bepo mustered his courage once more. “We need to talk to you, Captain. It's important.”

Another moment of silence followed, and then they heard Law's resigned grunt. “Fine. Come in.”

They pushed open the door cautiously, their gazes darting nervously around the room. Law leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in mild irritation. “Everything alright?”

Penguin spoke up hesitantly. “No, not really,” he began. “I mean, the ship is fine, and we're not being attacked, but there's something else…”

“What? Just say it.”

Shachi rolled his eyes. “Come on, Captain, we need to talk about what happened this morning.”

Law immediately rejected the notion. “No, we don't,” he said, his shoulders tensing, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, we do, and you're gonna listen to us.” Undeterred by Law's expression, he continued, “You shouldn't have just left her alone with us after a fight.”

Law remained impassive, his voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I had to take care of something, and I didn't think I was needed there,” he reiterated. “You guys were supposed to clean, and I had other matters to attend to.”

Penguin chimed in, his expression slightly sheepish. “Yeah, you were…You left after we all knew what happened in the morning, so of course we turned to her…We teased her, and I guess we took it a bit too far.”

Law clenched his jaw, his annoyance growing with each passing second. He didn't need a lecture on how to handle his life, and he definitely didn't appreciate his crew sticking their noses in his business.

But the trio wasn't finished yet. Bepo's worried gaze met Law's, his tone earnest as he added, “She didn't take it well, Captain. She locked herself in her room.”

Law's voice remained steady, feigning indifference as he asked, “So you want me to punish her for skipping out on her chores?”

Gasps of disbelief erupted from the trio.

“What, no!” Shachi barked. “Are you insane?”

“Yeah! What is wrong with you?” Penguin added, his tone incredulous.

Bepo took a deep breath, trying to reason. “You need to talk to her, Captain. And to us—your crew.”

Law's reply was curt and final. “It’s a private matter.”

Penguin wasn’t having it. “No, it’s not. Not anymore. But the crew’s okay with that—we’ve talked about it.”

Shachi nodded, his tone firm. “More than fine with it. We know you’ve been worried about what we’d think. But here’s the thing: we’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in. “You’ve been dancing around each other for too long.”

“And honestly? It was getting annoying,” Shachi added.

Bepo’s voice softened, but his words carried weight. “We want you to know we support you, Captain.”

Law blinked, their bluntness catching him off guard. Despite their sincerity, he still hesitated. “Is that so?”

The trio nodded in unison, their expressions hopeful.

Shachi stepped forward, crossing his arms as he locked eyes with Law. “Well, it needed to be said,” he stated firmly. “We know how you are, Captain. You could sit here for weeks if we let you. But we can’t let her suffer any longer.”

Law repeated, almost incredulously, “Suffer?”

Shachi shrugged apologetically. “We couldn’t speak to her personally,” he admitted, glancing toward the others. “But Ikkaku told us she’s obviously humiliated—not just by us, but by you, too.”

“You just left her there,” Penguin added, his tone tinged with guilt as he stepped closer. “And you haven’t spoken to her since. She thinks you’re ashamed of—”

“Of course I’m ashamed,” Law interrupted sharply, sitting forward as his jaw tightened. “That should have never happened. You shouldn’t have seen us like that.” His tone was clipped, frustration dominating his words as he averted his gaze.

Penguin picked up his sentence. “No, she thinks you are ashamed of her,” he clarified, his voice trailing off awkwardly.

Shachi frowned, his usually lighthearted expression turning uncharacteristically serious. “Ikkaku said she thinks she was forcing herself on you. That you only gave in because you were lonely,” he explained, his voice lowering. “And now everyone knows, and she feels embarrassed and pitiful.”

Law’s chair scraped slightly as he pushed back, his voice rising in outrage. “What? That’s absurd!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. His clenched fists rested on the armrests, knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain his mounting exasperation. The thought of you feeling that way—that you thought he was ashamed of you—sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“Yeah, we figured as much,” Penguin said, cutting through the tension. “But she doesn’t know that, Captain. You need to remind her she’s more than that.”

Shachi leaned forward, his tone pressing yet sincere. “She is more, right, Captain?”

Bepo’s soft, worried voice followed, his eyes searching Law’s face. “You did tell her, didn’t you? That she’s more?”

The room fell deathly quiet, the three of them staring at Law, waiting for a response. He sat frozen, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions he couldn’t quite organize. A subtle tremor ran through his hand as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

Shachi's voice cut through the silence, his tone firm and insistent. “You're awful,” he said bluntly. “You need to tell her.”

“I can't,” Law said, looking away.

“Why not?”

Law’s lips parted, and for a moment, he hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but raw, laced with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Because... I can’t lose her.”

The words lingered in the air, a heavy confession that seemed to sap the strength from him. His crewmates stood still, the weight of the admission sinking in. They had known Law for years, long enough to understand the fear buried beneath his stoic exterior. This wasn’t just about pride or embarrassment. This was about the scars of loss he carried, the pain he feared reliving.

After a brief pause, Penguin spoke up. “Well, we can't promise you that,” he stated, his words heavy with the acknowledgment of the uncertainty of the future.

Shachi nodded, his expression softening. “But she doesn’t want to leave you, Captain. That much we’re sure of.”

Bepo added, his voice solemn yet earnest, “And besides, she always says that life is a fucking nightmare, full of pain, and that you never know when you're going to die, so you should cling to every single small moment of happiness.”

Shachi and Penguin turned to Bepo, their mouths falling open in shock. Penguin gawked at him. “Wow, Bepo,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I’ve known you forever, but I’ve never heard you swear.”

Bepo’s face flushed under the sudden attention. “I was quoting!” he stammered, his ears flicking nervously. “The point is, if you won’t listen to us, maybe you should listen to her. You deserve some happiness too, Captain,” he finished, his eyes locking with Law’s.

Law's expression eased as he heard Bepo's words. The crew's support, combined with the reminder that your wisdom echoed their sentiment, struck a chord within him. He couldn't deny the truth in their words, even if fear still held him back.

The silence stretched once more, thick with emotion. Finally, Penguin broke it hesitantly. “Um, Captain?”

Law straightened, his usual composure returning. “There will be an obligatory meeting in two hours,” he said, his voice firm and commanding once more.

Bepo tilted his head, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. “Everyone?” he asked tentatively, unsure if Law meant to include you.

Law’s reply was curt and resolute. “Yes. Everyone. Now go.”

The crew spread the word about the meeting, making their way to the girls' dormitory. Shachi rapped on the door, and moments later, Ikkaku appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“The Captain called for an obligatory meeting,” Shachi informed her. “Everyone needs to attend.” He craned his neck slightly, calling out into the room, “That means you too.”

From within, your voice drifted toward them, muffled but tinged with resignation. “Yeah, yeah, I figured.”

Ikkaku gave a short nod and closed the door with a soft click. Turning toward you, she crossed her arms and regarded you thoughtfully. “You should shower first,” she suggested gently.

Sprawled across your bed, you rolled your eyes, a wry smirk tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Ikka,” you quipped with playful sarcasm. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Despite the jest, a flicker of vulnerability lingered in your eyes, betraying the weight of the upcoming meeting and the emotional turmoil still churning beneath the surface.

Taking Ikkaku’s advice, you trudged to the bathroom and showered, the hot water doing little to wash away your apprehension. When you returned to the room, your skin still damp and your hair wet, you began to change.

You couldn't help but notice Ikkaku’s gaze lingering on you. Sharing a room—and a shower room—meant you were no stranger to Ikkaku’s teasing observations, but this time, her stare felt particularly pointed.

You raised an eyebrow, turning to face her. “Okay, I know you’ve said my boobs are awesome, but the staring’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you remarked, your voice dripping with sass as you shot her a look.

Unfazed, Ikkaku smirked, leaning back against the wall with casual ease. “Sorry,” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “I was just curious to see how far those hickeys go.”

You froze, the memories of your night—and morning—with Law surfaced unbidden, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Don’t you have something better to do than ogling me?” you shot back, your voice flustered but defiant as you busied yourself with brushing your hair.

Ikkaku’s grin widened as she shrugged nonchalantly. “Not really,” she admitted. “Besides, your face right now? Totally worth it.”

Slowly, with reluctant resolve, you pulled away the towel, letting it fall to the side. The marks Law had left on your skin—bold, unmistakable—were now fully exposed. Ikkaku’s grin widened, her eyes shamelessly scanning the array of hickeys decorating your breasts and stomach.

“Wow,” she remarked with a teasing lilt, humor sparkling in her gaze. “Someone likes to sign their work.”

Despite the wave of mortification, a small smirk crept to your lips. There was something strangely endearing about her playful commentary, even if it only added to your flustered state.

You turned away and began dressing, methodically slipping on your bra before pulling a tank top over your head and following it with your uniform. Your movements were deliberate, almost mechanical, as though each action was part of a ritual to compose yourself. Hands trembling slightly, you reached for the zipper of your uniform and drew it up all the way to your neck—a rare act of modesty for you.

With the uniform now in place, you grabbed a bottle of concealer from the desk and leaned toward the small mirror affixed to the wall. Your eyes narrowed in concentration as you dabbed and blended the makeup over the hickeys that still were visible on your neck, working meticulously to erase any evidence of your time with Law.

Behind you, Ikkaku’s grin remained fixed. Her gaze was both amused and curious as she watched you work. “So, is he good?” she asked bluntly.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise as you glanced at her through the mirror. “Oh, come on,” she added before you could respond, rolling her eyes dramatically. “We’ve been pretending I didn’t know for months. At least give me something.”

A groan escaped you as you turned to face her, the reluctance plain in your posture. Yet, under her persistent gaze, you relented. “Fine, he’s… amazing,” you admitted, your voice softening. “I know, I know—you’ll say I’m biased, but he really is. Or it really is,” you added, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as the memory resurfaced. “I never knew sex could be that good.”

Your cheeks flushed anew as the words left your lips, the vivid recollection making it impossible to hide your emotions. Ikkaku raised a brow, her interest clearly piqued by your admission.

“You’ve had sex with other people before, though,” she pointed out, her voice tinged with curiosity.

You nodded, your expression turning thoughtful. “Yeah, and it was nothing compared to that.”

Ikkaku tilted her head slightly, a flicker of contemplation crossing her face before she spoke again. “It was good, or good because it was him?”

Your breath hitched slightly at her question, the double meaning not lost on you. The intensity of your feelings threatened to bubble to the surface, but you kept your composure. After a brief pause, you answered. “Both,” you confessed, the honesty in your words both exhilarating and terrifying. “It was good, and it was good because it was him.”

“Well, I’m glad for you.”

You sighed, shaking your head slightly, your smile fading. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t matter now.”

“Why not?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “Because, obviously, it won’t be happening anymore,” you replied flatly, your tone resigned, though a flicker of sadness betrayed you.

“You can’t know that.”

You scoffed, shooting her a skeptical look. “Oh, I think I know,” you muttered, the bitterness of your words undercut by the vulnerability in your eyes.

“No,” she said again. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

A lump formed in your throat as her words lingered in the air. You tried to brush them off, letting out a heavy sigh. “I… Let’s just get to this meeting,” you murmured, the finality in your tone signaling an end to the conversation.

Law arrived, his commanding presence as steady as ever, and began by addressing the crew in his usual manner. He outlined the agenda for their imminent arrival on the island, detailing their expected conduct and assigning responsibilities with precise efficiency.

Despite the focus on practical matters, an undercurrent of tension lingers in the air. You sat among the crew, listening with a stoic expression, but your mind reeled with the weight of recent events. The words spoken seem distant, their meanings muted by the emotional turmoil swirling within you. Law’s voice remained firm and unyielding, yet there was a subtle flicker of concern in his eyes each time his gaze landed on you.

After finishing the official agenda, Law cleared his throat, his posture shifting slightly. “There’s another matter we need to discuss,” he stated.

Your body tensed as the weight of his announcement settled over the room. The earlier incident—he’s going to talk about it. Your pulse quickened, the anticipation prickling your skin as you wondered what he'd say and how it would alter the fragile balance you felt.

As the eyes of your crewmates subtly shifted toward you, the sensation of being exposed made you want to disappear. Their curiosity, though unspoken, was palpable. Only Law refrained from looking your way, his avoidance making you wonder if it’s deliberate.

Finally, he spoke, “I was informed by Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin that there are no objections to this… relationship.” His pause is brief but meaningful, the word relationship hanging in the air. For a moment, he looked at you before continuing. “Is that correct?”

The crew’s response was instantaneous and resounding.

“Not at all!”

“We’re all happy for you!”

“It should have happened sooner!”

“We’re more than fine with it!”

You leaned closer to Ikkaku and whispered. “Did he just say relationship, or am I delusional?”

Ikkaku chuckled softly. “You heard him right,” she confirmed.

The reality of the moment began to sink in, the word relationship replaying in your mind. It felt surreal to hear Law speak of your connection so openly. Your heart fluttered, caught between happiness and nervousness as you processed this unexpected declaration.

Relationship. Did he just make it official—without asking you first? You’d expect irritation, but instead, you felt a surprising sense of ease. When his gaze met yours again, a flicker of nervousness in his expression, you offered him a small smile and nod. His shoulders relaxed, and a faint, fleeting smile crossed his face before he regained his usual composure.

Law’s commanding voice broke the moment. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, addressing the crew. “Don’t go overboard with it. If any concerns arise, come to me directly.”

He paused, then added with authority, “This is a private matter, and it will remain that way. Don’t get too curious, and no discussions about it outside this ship. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. You joined them in silent acknowledgment, feeling a wave of relief at the boundaries Law set.

With a touch of humor, he continued, “I’d also like to forbid all talks on the ship, but I don’t believe in miracles.”

The crew erupted in light laughter, the mood easing slightly with his words.

“Now, I’ve heard that instead of focusing on cleaning as I directed, some of you were too busy gossiping and fooling around. As punishment, everyone will be cleaning the storage room.”

A collective groan rose from the crew, though none dared protest. Law had chosen this task deliberately, knowing it needed to be done and that no one would volunteer.

Once the commotion died down, Law turned to you. His tone remained firm and impartial. “Besides you. But for missing work earlier, you’ll take an extra shift cleaning the kitchen.”

Cleaning the kitchen was your least favorite task, and everyone on the ship knew it. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to feel resentment. Law was fair; everyone else faced consequences for missed duties, and he was showing you no favoritism. The consistency in his decisions left you feeling unexpectedly grateful.

With the meeting concluded, Law’s voice rang out one final directive. “That’s all. Everyone, return to your tasks.”

Usually, he would leave immediately, but this time, he lingered. His gaze scanned the room, ensuring no one had the chance to approach you as the crew dispersed.

As you turned to leave, you felt the light pressure of a hand on your shoulder. Startled, you glanced back to find Law standing close. His voice dropped to a quiet murmur, just for you. “Come to me when you’re done. We need to talk.”

You arrived at Law's door later, your heart beating slightly faster in anticipation of the conversation ahead. Knocking gently, you heard his voice inviting you in. You entered the room and took your usual seat across from him, settling into the chair as you took a moment to compose yourself.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you said, referring to Law’s earlier declaration at the meeting.

Law smiled softly, a rare expression reserved just for you. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” he replied apologetically. He paused before asking, “Are you okay with it?”

Your heart raced at his apology, the words sending a flutter through your chest. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts and responded, “I’m… surprised.” You paused for a moment, mustering the courage to voice your true feelings. “But… yes, I’m okay with it. More than okay.”

Law’s eyes locked onto yours, and you could see that your words calmed him. Your words—more than okay—settled the doubts that had crept into his mind. He let out a small sigh, the tension leaving his body.

Switching to a lighthearted tone, you added with a playful pout, “I’m still a little mad, you know. For leaving me there like that.”

Law’s response was matter-of-fact, his voice composed. “I know. I didn’t do it intentionally. I just didn’t see the point of sticking around.” There was a hint of nonchalance as he added, “I got injured a bit during the battle—didn’t want anyone making a fuss over me.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, anger, and concern flooding you. “Law!”

He chuckled lightly, his tone soothing as he hastened to reassure you. “I’m fine, I am. I swear.”

Crossing your arms, you murmured, “You better be.” Sighing in exasperation, you scolded him. “You should’ve told me.”

“You weren’t visiting me…”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Law studied your face, the truth behind your statement hitting him. He realized how his actions might have led you to that conclusion, and guilt welled up inside him. His voice was quiet as he replied, “You were wrong.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

Law sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. “I should’ve been clearer,” he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. “I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.” He paused, considering his next words. “I didn’t want anyone fussing over me, especially not you. I didn’t want you to worry…”

“You can’t just avoid everyone when you’re injured. Especially not me. I… I care about you, you know that.”

“I know, I know,” he conceded, “I just… I didn’t want to be a burden. And it wasn’t anything serious.”

“You’re not a burden. You could never be a burden to me.” Leaning forward, you held his gaze. “Even if it wasn’t serious, you should’ve told me.”

“I probably would’ve told you if you’d visited me. You know, I usually tell you everything. If you’d come to check on me, I would’ve spoken up eventually.”

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” you said, though there was no real anger in your voice. You sighed. “You shouldn’t have left me there with the crew after they found out about us. I… I thought you were ashamed of me, that I was just some dirty little secret…”

“No. I’m not ashamed of you, not at all.” Meeting your gaze, he continued firmly, “You’re more than that. You’re…” He faltered, struggling with the words he wasn’t used to saying.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Seeing his struggle, you gently reassured him. “I suppose that means we’re official now, huh?” you asked, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

“I suppose we are,” he replied, a tender edge in his voice. “I hope you’re still comfortable with that.”

“Of course I am. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Law's heart felt lighter at your words. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear you say that. “Good,” he said simply, a rare smile playing on his lips. “Because I have too.” Law's smile softened, and a more somber expression settled on his face. “It's… it's not going to be easy,” he admitted quietly. “You know that, right?”

You nodded, your expression serious as well. You understood the challenges that came with a relationship, especially in your unconventional circumstances. “I know,”

“I'm not… going to be easy.”

You reached out and gently laid your hand on top of his on the desk. “I know that too.” You laced your fingers with his, stroking his thumb softly. “Law, I'm not going into this blindly. I… I'm just as scared as you are.”

As Law started to object, you stopped him with a determined look. “No, don't give me that look. You're emotionally challenged, and we live in a shitty world. Of course, you're scared. So am I.”

Law fell silent, his eyes locking onto yours as he absorbed your words. He hadn't expected you to acknowledge his fears so bluntly—most people just assumed he didn't have any. Yet here you were, acknowledging them and admitting to sharing similar feelings. “You're incredible, you know that?” he murmured.

Your lips curled into a small, wry smile. You were flattered by his words, but you also knew him well enough to see the lingering hint of disbelief in his eyes. “I have my moments,” you replied lightly, your tone filled with a hint of humor. “But I mean what I said. I know this won't be easy, and I'm scared too. But… I want this. With you.”

“I am a broken man,” he confessed, his tone filled with an undercurrent of regret and a hint of shame.

Your gaze didn't waver. “And I won't fix you,” you said quietly. “And I am a broken woman, and you won't fix me either. But… maybe,” your voice softened. “Maybe… the broken pieces… just fit together, you know?”

Law's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He felt the truth of your statement deep within, a part of him yearning to believe it. But his logical mind reminded him of the harsh realities of your lives. Yet, something about your words, your touch, made him want to believe it all the same. “Broken pieces…” he mused quietly, a hint of both longing and skepticism in his voice.

“Yes, broken pieces,” you reiterate gently. “Sometimes, the unique things are created from broken pieces that just… fit.”

Law's gaze flicked down to your joined hands, the sight of your touch against his skin grounding him. He took a slow, deep breath, your words sinking into his heart, chipping away at his usual skepticism. “Maybe you're right,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with a faint hint of wonder. “Maybe… maybe the broken pieces do fit together in ways that make something… significant.”

#onepiece #one piece fic #trafalgar law #trafalgar law fic #polartangchronicles #trafalgar d water law #bepo one piece #penguin one piece #shachi one piece #ikakku one piece #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

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sorrowsofsilence · 1 month ago

Text

liminal • n.s

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x fem!reader (oneshot)

Words: 7.5k

Warnings: Angst, Part Smut 18+ (fem!receiving), mean!noah, fixing(ish) an unhealthy relationship, alcohol / cigarettes

Prompt: he hates you. yet, he hates that he’s so obsessed with you.

Authors note: This is something I slowly worked on throughout my Taiwan practicum. I had planned for a hot sexy one-shot and instead, it turned out like this lmao (I think, despite how much fun I had, I was feeling angsty and sad) sooooo, here's this. Not my finest work IMO but it is something, to get the writing brain sparked again :-:

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

Noah’s eyes narrowed, dark brown slits fixated on the smile planted on your face as the stranger next to you leaned into your ear.

You let out a laugh that echoed across the room, causing the brunette to become even more irritated. He leaned against the wall, refusing to look away from you.

He furrowed his brows as he placed a cigarette between his lips and took a drag, inhaling the smoke with a grimace, and a hand suddenly clapped him on the back, causing him to double over and cough.

Annoyed, he turned to see Folio with a drunken smile on his face like a jester, "You know, for someone who claims to despise her, you sure do stare at her a lot."

Noah let out a bitter laugh at his friend's comment, only briefly glancing at the drummer before returning his attention to you.

As you laughed again and leaned closer to the stranger, tilting your head with interest, Noah felt sick.

"Fuck off," he spat, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Folio chuckled beside him and swayed unsteadily, "I'm just saying, your actions show otherwise."

Noah scoffed and blew smoke through his teeth as he shook his head, "I want nothing to do with her. She's annoying." But deep down, he knew it was a lie.

In reality, he was obsessed with you. Every thought in his mind was consumed by thoughts of you. The coffee he had this morning? Your favorite kind. The movie he watched on the bus? One you had mentioned loving before. The song he couldn't stop listening to? The one that was playing when you two first met, over a year ago now.

Yet despite all this, you never showed any interest in him. In fact, you seemed to avoid him whenever possible.

And he knew he was the reason why.

Pulling his gaze from you, he flicked the cigarette away and tried to focus on the grungy bar wall before him- anything but your laughter. He hated the way it echoed through his mind, drowning out everything else around him. He hated how his heart stuttered when the sound reached his ears.

"You're pathetic, Noah," Folio slurred beside him, leaning heavily against the wall. He held an empty beer bottle loosely in his hand.

This comment should have provoked anger like most of Folio's words did, but he knew it was true.

“She’s done nothing to you, yet you treat her like shit.”

The brunette laughed bitterly, exhaling a plume of smoke before tossing the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Did I ask for your input, Folio?" Noah retorted, his voice laced with poisonous acidity, "No, I don't believe I did."

Pushing off the wall, he sidestepped Folio's swaying attempt to stop him and marched towards the bar in a few determined strides.

"Noah!" Folio called after him in a drunken daze, but Noah ignored him, instead focusing on blocking out the laughter ringing through the room.

And yet, even as he reached the bar and leaned against it, ordering another drink with an irritated grunt, Noah couldn't stop himself from darting one more glance in your direction. You were still chatting and laughing as if there weren't a care in the world.

Swirling the drink in hand, an acidic taste of bitter resentment washed over him as he gulped. He slammed back shots after shots, each stinging swallow seemed to fade away into insignificance when compared to the pain of seeing you so carefree and unattainable.

As his vision began to blur around the edges and his sense of balance teetered on the edge, Noah lost count.

He felt the familiar sting of alcohol in his throat and welcomed it, hoping that every shot he took would help him forget—but every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He was stuck in an endless loop of self-loathing, alcohol, and you.

Noah’s hand trembled as he raised the shot glass for yet another round; the liquid sploshed over the rim, dribbling down his fist - it was the first sign of his escalating intoxication. He squinted at the mirrored wall before him, trying to form coherent words to order yet another round.

Then, he saw you or rather, your reflection. You had abandoned your comfortable spot next to the stranger and were now making your way towards him, pushing through the clusters of bodies in a determined fashion. Panic boiled with the alcohol in his veins. He quickly turned away from the mirror, pretending to study something at the end of the bar.

"Noah,” you stopped right beside him, and for a moment he thought he could smell you amidst the stench of alcohol, body sweat, and stale smoke. Your perfume was a faint note wafting through it all - a sweet scent that clashed with his surroundings and hurtled him even further into his spiral of self-loathing.

He didn't turn to face you, but he could sense your uneasy presence.

"Noah," you began again, this time softer, feeling the hostile coldness radiating from him.

"You’re drunk," you stated matter-of-factly, reaching out and pulling the shot glass from his alcohol-slicked hand. Overhead music thumped against his eardrums and he swallowed roughly, his jaw clenching as he finally turned to face you. Your expression was softer than he anticipated; sympathy and worry replacing the joy-filled laughter that had resonated within each corner of the bar minutes before.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," He retorted bitterly, veering his attention away from your accusing gaze and towards his empty shot glass instead. He moved forward to reach for it once more but you were quicker, sliding the glass out of his reach and signalling to the bartender.

"No more for him tonight," you instructed, your voice steady but he could detect an underlying note of concern as your gaze alternated between him and the burly man behind the bar.

"Mind your own fucking business," he seethed, feeling a pang of anger ricocheting off his skull. Swiping his arm across the counter, Noah managed to snag another shot glass filled to the brim before throwing it back and wincing at the harsh liquid burning down his throat.

He could feel your disapproving stare on him; it was both satisfying and infuriating.

"Noah…" Your voice was pleading now. It was so unlike you, so gentle and empathetic that he nearly choked on his anguish.

"Didn’t you hear me?" He chastised bitterly, slamming the empty glass onto the counter, "Or are you just as deaf as you are ignorant?"

You winced, quickly replacing the dejection with a scowl. Yet, instead of responding, you merely sighed and reached into your pocket, pulling out a small wad of cash and tossing it onto the counter. Without another word, you grabbed his arm, your grip surprisingly firm in comparison to your soft voice.

He didn't resist you as you dragged him away from the bar and through the throng of loud, drunken patrons.

The cool outside air hit him when you pushed open the exit door, clearing his foggy mind a little. He pulled his arm from your grip and staggered away, leaning against the brick wall for support.

"Why do you care?" he spat angrily, turning his bleary gaze to you. Your eyes held that same softness he had seen at the bar, now accompanied by a sad frown.

He scowled, disgusted by the fabricated pity radiating off you.

"I don't," You replied in annoyance, before letting out a soft sigh, "I just couldn't stand watching you become another wasted drunk in that bar. And your photoshoots tomorrow so you’ll look like shit if you don’t stop.”

"It's my life, isn't it?" He spat back, his words slurred and barely intelligible.

He pushed away from the wall, trying to reestablish some distance between the two of you, “I don’t need you acting as my manager. I pay Matt for a reason.”

“It is your life,” You conceded, straightening up to your full height, “But as your photographer, I’m looking out for you.”

“Just as my photographer, huh?”

He echoed your words in a low voice, with cold mockery. But deep down, they stung. The silence that stretched between you two was filled with the noises of the city: far-off laughter, screeching tires, and the hollow echo of a lonely siren. He pushed his tangled locks out of his eyes and stared at you, a challenge in his gaze.

For a moment your eyes wavered, flickering over to him as if you were about to say something more. But you quickly turned away and gave a vague nod.

"Just as your photographer, Noah," you confirmed, your voice steady but he could see that your lips tightened.

His heart roared its protest but he gave you a dismissive wave.

“Fantastic,” he spat back with as much sarcasm he could muster, "Don't push yourself too hard for my sake."

"I won't," you shot back, shrugging off his bitterness as easily as if it were an old jacket. You turned away then, leaving him to stew in silence under the harsh glare of the streetlamp.

He watched your retreating figure with a burning intensity, all his regret and anger pooling into a bitter pit in his stomach. As he saw you disappear round the corner, he felt a pang of longing. Regret.

For once, he wished for you to look back, or better - to stay. But you didn't.

You never did.

Feeling a chill settling on him, Noah slid down onto the grimy pavement, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one up slowly as if taking his time would somehow delay the sting of reality. The smoke curled upwards, disappearing into the cool night air — ephemeral, just like what was left of his dignity.

With a heavy sigh, Noah pulled the cigarette from his lips, gazing at the glowing ember as if it held the answers to his misery. Each puff was a silent, disgusting prayer vibrating out into the universe, swallowed up by the sky that never listened to his pleas.

Suddenly, he started laughing—a low, humourless sound that resonated off the empty street. How pathetic was he, hoping for answers in a goddamn cigarette ember?

The night was quiet, unresponsive to his breakdown. It was as cold and uncaring as he always thought you were, as indifferent as you proved yourself tonight.

As distant as the love he craved but never found reciprocated—that was how he felt about you.

But then footsteps echoed off the brick, getting closer and closer to him.

And suddenly you were there, clutching onto Noah’s jacket with a firm grip.

"Forgot your damn jacket, asshole," you muttered irritably, flinging the piece of clothing at him.

His reflexes weren't quick enough, so instead of catching the jacket, it ended up draped across his lap. In the silence that stretched, he thought he saw a flicker of hesitation in your eyes...or maybe it was pity.

He took another drag of the cigarette, then spat onto the ground before flicking the remaining butt onto the concrete.

"If you hate the taste, why do you keep smoking?"

"Why do you keep asking pointless fucking questions?" Noah snapped back, giving you a piercing stare.

“Why are you always such a fucking asshole?” You sighed, brows furrowing in anger. You knew now was not the time to ask questions but the word vomit spewed forth anyways.

"Maybe because you're always so fucking annoying," Noah countered venomously, his words carrying a warning of a fit of anger quick to unravel.

"Stop avoiding the question!" You exclaimed, looking frustrated, “You’ve been acting this way since we met! I’m sick and fucking tired of being treated like complete shit by you.”

"Great," He replied sarcastically, forcing himself to his feet, "Quit then. I didn't ask you to stick around."

The finality of his words echoed in the silence between them. They stung like hell, tearing through the icy air and hitting you like a train. There was no room for negotiation; it was a clear ultimatum.

"I…" You started, your voice barely even a whisper. The hurt was evident on your face but you quickly masked it with a hardened exterior.

“Maybe I will,” You shot back, meeting his gaze head-on.

You took a step back, distancing yourself from him. A wave of vulnerability washed over you but you kept your stance firm and determined, refusing to allow him to see your weakness. The dimly lit street blurred your vision, painting Noah inside thick shadows. But there in the gloom, you could still make out that cocky grin he always wore when he got under your skin.

"So quit!" he retorted with a shrug, crossing his arms over his chest.

His nonchalance hung in the air between you like a brutal slap to your face.

You tugged at your sleeves nervously and took one last look at him. The cold street light painted harsh shadows onto his callous features; the skin under his eyes looked darker than usual. For a moment, despite all his bravado and cruelty, you almost felt sorry for him.

"Fine," You finally uttered, each word like poison on your tongue. The venom in your voice surprised even yourself, but there was no turning back now, "I'm done. Fuck you, Noah."

Then you turned, just like before and walked away.

Only this time, something in Noah cracked. A stark realization that felt like an invisible punch straight to his gut - he was the only one responsible for pushing you away.

"No," He murmured hesitantly at first, watching your retreating as every step you took sent a flare of panic through his system.

"No!" This time his voice resonated through the empty street. The echo bounced off the barren walls as if mocking him in his misery. He stood up, chest heaving in drunken contemplation.

"No!" He shouted again, racing off after you through the maze of alleyways. The cool night air bit at his face, tugging at his hair and clothes in a desperate attempt to slow him down.

He didn't know why it mattered now. Why, when he'd already pushed you far beyond your limits, and vilified himself beyond redemption, he still felt a desperate need to make things right.

Or maybe, Noah realized as he sprinted full tilt towards the receding echo of your footsteps, it was because, despite everything, he cared. He cared more than he'd allowed himself to admit.

"Wait!" He shouted out hoarsely, pumping his legs as fast as they would carry him until finally, your silhouette came into view once more. You froze mid-step as if contemplating turning around or keep walking.

Seeing you hesitate gave him that glimmer of hope which fuelled his final sprint till he was standing in front of you, panting heavily from the exertion. His sharp eyes studied your figure in the dim lighting of a distant street lamp, his gaze intense and desperate.

“You were supposed to keep walking,” Noah rasped out after he managed to collect enough breath, his mind fighting his body as he stepped closer toward you.

“Why?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively across your chest, stepping backwards.

“Because…” His voice trailed off as he struggled to put his chaotic feelings into words. He looked away for a moment, gathering himself.

When he finally met your gaze again, there was an uncharacteristic vulnerability that had crept into his voice, “Because I can’t keep pushing you away.”

You blinked at him, processing his words. There was a long stretch of silence between you two as the cool nocturnal breeze gently rustled.

“And why is that? You’d have trouble sleeping at night without someone to torment?” The sarcasm in your voice was thick, but it hinted at something more - a sliver of hurt seeping through the cracks of your anger.

Noah shook his head, running a hand through his tangled hair, "You don’t get it, do you?" He growled, frustration edging into his voice.

"Get what?" You shot back, your gaze unwavering.

Noah shouted before turning away from you, pacing a couple of steps back and forth, “I just can’t stand the thought of you not being here. I need you.”

That revelation hung heavy in the air, wrapping around the both of you like a shroud. He needed you. After all that was said and done, that was his bare truth. His earlier bravado was nowhere to be found, just raw honesty.

You stared at him – really stared at him – for the first time in what felt like an eternity, taking in the sight of Noah: unkempt, haggard and vulnerable. It wasn't a sight you were used to seeing and it unsettled you.

"You need me," The words seemed absurd as they fell from your lips, incredulous.

A bitter laugh rose to your throat but died before it could pass your lips, "If you need me, you've got a fucked-up way of showing it."

"I told you," Noah snapped, agitation seeping into his tone, "I'm an asshole."

"An asshole that 'needs me'," you retorted with a roll of your eyes, “You’re messing with me.”

"No," Noah insisted, his gaze levelling with yours, "I'm not messing with you."

A moment's silence intercepted as he let the gravity of his admission sink in. The air between you was tense and fraught with a slew of complex emotions – shared longing, regret and frustration.

"Do you even understand what you're saying?" Your words echoed through the bare passageways, shattering the very core of silence lurking around them.

"I think so," he admitted hesitantly, "Believe it or not, I do."

"You 'think so'?" You repeated, frustration evident in your tone.

"No. Actually," Noah corrected himself, taking an unsteady step towards you; an abrupt hesitation weighing down his tangled words.

His eyes were pleading now, "I know so."

The sincerity in his voice took you by surprise; you squinted at him through the semi-darkness.

“You’ve treated me like absolute shit since we’ve met Noah. One year of you being rude, selfish, and just straight-up mean! And why? All because you want me?” You tried not to laugh, shaking your head as if to dismiss this absurd idea.

But why did your stomach flutter

"I don't get it either," Noah responded sharply, completely off balance with the turmoil of the conversation. He ran a hand through his hair once more, "I can't explain half the shit I do or say to you.”

You crossed your arms again as if shielding yourself from his words. But when you spoke, your voice was surprisingly soft and devoid of its usual flippant defence, "Then maybe you should try harder."

A silence fell between you two again, ringing loudly in your ears. You stared at each other for a while, a silent battleground where words were weapons and silence was an uncertain truce.

Slowly, hesitantly, Noah took a step toward you. His dark eyes bore into yours, the moonlight reflecting off them with an almost eerie intensity. For a moment, in that silent exchange, you saw him stripped of all his defences, vulnerable and bare.

“Yeah. I will try harder. Because the truth is, you drive me fucking nuts,” He whispered, standing inches from you now. His breath brushed your forehead as you stared up at him, hands hesitant to push against his chest.

But you did just that, feeling his racing heart beneath the cloth.

"You have consumed my mind. And there's nothing I can do about it. Even if I wanted to," Noah went on, his voice cracking with the brutal honesty of his confession.

Your eyes flitted up to meet- the sinking October sea radiant in the dark. “You do a brilliant job at hiding it,” you said, the venom in your words tainted by doubt.

Noah laughed again, but there was no mirth in his eyes; only a raw, shared pain and understanding that transcended your mutual resentment.

“I suppose,” he said, taking another step closer as you involuntarily stepped back against the cold brick. Your hands still pushed against his chest but faltered as he stepped closer, holding you against the wall.

Inexorably drawn to you despite your resistance – or perhaps because of it – Noah found himself looming over you, one arm braced against the wall next to your head boxing you in. The immediate proximity made every breath you drew quiver.

"Let me go," you warned, your eyes brimming with defiance and a hint of fear, your hands pushing him away without conviction. But Noah didn't move. He just hung there, inches away from you, a look of palpable desperation on his face.

"I can't..." Noah whispered, sounding more to himself than to you. His gaze flickered to your lips for a fleeting moment before locking with your startled eyes once more. It was in this moment that you saw him - truly saw him for the first time.

Behind the hostile exterior was a man who grappled with complexities just as you did. His struggle was reflected in his piercing gaze – both harshly real and terrifyingly vulnerable at the same time.

"Coward," you spat, voice trembling along with your heart. His stubborn refusal to move stirred a maelstrom inside of you. But even as the word floated between the two of you, your hands had stilled on his chest and somewhat relaxed, betraying your seemingly confident exterior.

"Maybe," he admitted, his gaze remaining deeply locked with yours. His hand came up, fingers brushing against your cheek in an unnerving tenderness that felt almost alien coming from him, "Or maybe I'm just scared."

"Scared of what?" You scoffed, trying - and failing - to keep the quiver out of your voice.

"Of losing you," He whispered honestly, dropping the hard shell built around him. The rawness in his tone was enough to catalyze the slow crumbling of walls around both your hearts.

His confession hung between you.

"You've never had me to begin with," you managed to retort eventually, your voice barely audible.

"And that is what scares me," Noah's response was immediate and sincere, "If I push you away first, you can’t hurt me."

"Your logic is flawed, Noah," you snorted, although the harshness lacked the conviction needed to drive him away.

Noah winced as if your words had physically struck him, "Isn't it?" he mockingly retorted, but his levity was inadequate to mask the vulnerability seeping through.

"You have no guarantee that I would hurt you," you countered stubbornly, "And even if I did..." you paused, suddenly uncertain. The idea that you could cause him pain was oddly upsetting.

"And even if you did?" Noah prodded gently.

"You'd survive," you finished reluctantly. Your gaze dropped from his face, focusing at some abstract point on his broad chest.

“It’s not about surviving. It’s about not understanding why it’s you that I want so badly. I don’t know how to handle this... intensity. I have never felt this way for anyone else before," His voice was barely audible, echoing the vulnerable tremor that had crept into his tone.

A moment of silence ensued as you absorbed the gravity of his confession. Noah's gaze remained locked on your face, watching as emotions flickered like ephemeral flames in your wide eyes. Somewhere between disbelief, anger and overwhelming sadness, you drowned in a frustration tinged with regret.

"Reducing me to an object of fear does not justify your cruel actions, Noah," you whispered, holding his gaze. Your hands clenched at your sides, urging every single nerve ending to maintain resistance against the man leaning dangerously close to you.

"Is that what this is?" Noah's features hardened at your accusation. Eyes narrowing, lips pressed into a thin line again. "Fear?"

"What else could it possibly be?" You shot back acerbically, jerking away from his touch - but he quickly caught your wrist, not in a punishing grasp but with an almost desperate hold.

“More than fear,” His voice barely a whisper, his eyes hollow, “It’s despair. It’s knowing that I would never be good enough for you - that you'll find someone who is.”

You stiffened at his words, unable to respond or look away from his penetrating gaze. You remembered every slight, every curt word he’d fired your way, wondering now if they were born of this terror he talked about.

"Noah," you murmured, feeling suddenly weak. He watched your every breath, waiting, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding.

“I hate feeling this way," he confessed with an overwhelming gravity in his tone. "It’s like...” Noah exhaled heavily as if the admission was physically draining him. "Like I'm in the middle of a lake... And just when I think I'm about to drown... I see you on shore, standing there... watching."

Your heart ached at his words, but you kept your expression neutral, aware that any break in semblance could send him retreating back into his shell.

For a while, an uncomfortable silence stretched between you two, broken only by the distant howl of the wind.

“Noah,” you said, meeting his gaze with newfound determination, “I can’t be held responsible for your fears.”

You could see him flinch, even though he tried to hide it, his gaze faltering from yours. “No… you’re right. You can’t. I’m to blame for letting this get out of hand.”

As you were about to sigh, Noah pressed his forehead against yours. The scent of stale cigarettes and alcohol filled your senses, and somehow, it was comforting.

“I need you,” he whispered, closing his eyes briefly before staring into your own.

You whispered his name as his lips brushed against yours; but you pushed his chest, turning your head away.

“You’re drunk.”

Your words snapped back to him, causing his shoulders to falter as he then clung to your body. Engulfing you into his chest, you wrapped your arms around him, your own chest heaving with the confession that lingered between you.

You’ve always found him irritably attractive. Even through his asshole demeanour, you wanted him to.

But not now. Not while he stood there, vulnerable.

“Let’s get back to the bus.”

+++++

Things weren’t the same now, and the rest of the crew noticed.

The next morning Noah’s head pounded as he laid in his bunk. A symphony of aches in his body reminded him of the previous night's raw conversation with you. His mouth felt like a sandbox, grains of regret cramped on his tongue.

“What the hell happened last night?” a dishevelled Ruffilo slid from the bunk above Noah. His voice pierced through the pounding in Noah's head like a well-aimed knife.

Noah grunted, shielding his eyes from the intrusive morning light streaming from an open window.

“Don’t remember,” he muttered, his voice raspy from sleep and too much alcohol.

Nicholas scoffed, tugging on a t-shirt crumpled on the floor, "You expect anybody to believe that?"

“Not my problem,” Noah grumbled, rolling over to ignore further questioning.

The remainder of their ride was spent in an unusual silence disrupted intermittently by the rumble of the bus over bumpy roads and occasional small talks among band members.

Your mutual avoidance turned noticeable. You were unusually still, almost as if your vivacious spark had been snuffed out, an unusual calm that gave away your internal storm. Similarly, Noah wore an impenetrable outer shell, venturing out only for a smoke or a swig from his water bottle.

There was a thick blanket of tension cast over the bus, which twitched and palpitated with each stolen glance between you two. It was like everyone aboard the bus could quite literally feel the static charge crackling in the air.

"Is something wrong?" Jolly finally broke the silence, oblivious to the undercurrent. His loud question rang through the silent bus, making everyone flinch at the sudden noise.

Nothing was said for a moment as all eyes turned to you, then Noah. You wrapped your arms tighter around your body, staring out at the road unfurling before you. "Nothing's wrong," came your curt reply.

Jolly was about to retort when a sharp glare from Nicholas stopped him in his tracks.

As soon as the studio came into view from the window, you stood up quickly, packing up your camera into your bag, “I’ll meet you inside. Don’t forget your outfits.”

You didn’t wait for the bus to fully stop before jumping out, bag slung over your shoulder and cap shielding your eyes. You dashed towards the studio without a backward glance, leaving the rest behind in dazed silence.

As the dust settled, Noah watched you disappear into the distance, your retreating figure growing fainter with each passing moment till all he was left with was an overwhelming emptiness and the scent of you lingering in the air.

“Gonna go after her?” Ruffilo finally broke Noah’s trance, pulling him back to reality.

Noah glanced back at him. There was a strange glint in his eyes. He shook his head, his stoic expression not revealing what he truly felt. “Not now, Nick. Just...not now.” His voice betrayed him, a single shard of vulnerability slipping through his walls of defence.

“Very well,” Ruffilo finally conceded, albeit reluctantly.

With that, Noah found himself standing alone as others headed inside. His grip tightened on the strap of his backpack before he followed in, dreading your gaze.

He didn’t fear losing you anymore- he knew he was never yours to lose. But what haunted him was the constant pain in your eyes, caused by him.

The photoshoot continued swiftly as you guided the boys into various poses. Adjusting their hair and shirts, you hesitantly brushed Noah’s bangs away from his face.

He stiffened at your touch, his anxious gaze darting to meet yours. You wanted to reassure him, tell him you weren't disgusted by him, but your pride got in the way. Your hand pulled away, leaving an invisible trail of tension on his forehead.

The shoot dragged on, and despite their best efforts to act normal and keep the mood light, the crew could feel the tension between you two. Noah was quieter than he'd ever been, and his eyes followed you around the room. The glances he sent you were just a shadow of his usual provocative smirks.

The other guys in the band tried to fill the void left by Noah's silence with lame jokes and exaggerated laughter. You appreciated their efforts, but it wasn't enough to completely wash away the sour taste that Noah's confession had left.

"Time for solos," You announced tiredly, nodding at the boys to change outfits. The portraits went relatively quickly until you reached Noah.

“You guys don’t need to stay,” You nodded at Jolly, who whispered a quiet ‘thank god’ under his breath.

Once you were alone, the studio seemed much larger than it was before. The high ceiling echoed back Noah’s steps as he approached the designated section for the photoshoot.

“Stand there,” You ordered, pointing to a spot against a rustic backdrop that you had prepared earlier. You could see him swallow nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing conspicuously.

You shifted your focus back to your camera, busying yourself with the various settings. You couldn't deny, though, that your mind was filled with thoughts of him.

Just as you brought the camera up to your eye, Noah cleared his throat. "I just wanted to say..." He began awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as you lowered the camera to look at him. His eyes were wary, but determined as they met yours.

“I’m sorry," he finally muttered.

You remained silent, studying him through the lens of your camera. He looked different somehow - less of the bold, arrogant frontman and more of a man carrying the weight of his actions.

"Thanks for saying that, but it's not enough," you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. The charged stillness settled over both of you again like a shroud

Noah winced at your words, regret sharpening the usually soft curves of his face. As you snapped photos of him, capturing every painful oscillation of emotion on his hardened features, the air between you two thickened further.

“Fix your tie,” You mumbled, nodding at him as his hands fumbled with the fabric.

"There's nothing I can say, is there?" Noah said, his tone jittery as his hands fell to the sides.

Your heart clenched at his question. You wanted so desperately to reassure him, to let him know that things could be fixed, but doing so felt unfair - both to you and to him.

"Right now... No," you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. You sighed annoyed at his inability to fix the fabric, and strutted towards him, pulling the tie to the side gently.

You were inches from his body as you reached up, hands around his neck to fix the tie.

His body stiffened and he barely seemed to breathe, but he didn't move away or protest. For all his bluster and bravado, there was an inexplicably endearing quality to Noah in those moments of vulnerability.

Just as you were about done, your fingers grazed against his collarbone beneath his shirt. A sudden realization hit you; despite being so close physically, and emotionally you two were miles apart.

"There." You stepped back and met his eyes again, parrying the intensity of his gaze with your own cool neutrality.

“Thank you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Yet you couldn’t let yourself back away just yet, “If there’s nothing I can say, can I show you?”

Your breath hitched as his eyes bore into yours, hands slowly reaching up to grip either side of your hip.

“Show me what?” You breathed, staring at his fixated gaze that now danced between your eyes and lips.

“Show you how much I care for you, deep down.”

His words hung in the air like a sharp winter wind, chilling you to the bone. But before you could reply, he dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a kiss. It was filled with desperation, whispering about his buried feelings in a way words never could.

You froze but didn’t pull back, his grip on your waist tightened, holding you with intense need.

His kiss was apologetic, passionate, and a plea for another chance all wrapped up in one. You found yourself surprised by how desperately you wanted to believe him, how badly you wanted this to be the answer

Instead of pulling away, you reached up, holding the collar of his shirt with clenched fists. You kissed him back, allowing your lips to move in sync with newfound heartache as he moulded into your body.

The surge of electricity that ran through your veins was enough to make your heart race. Noah's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his firm body. He wanted to make this right, he wanted to show you that his apology was sincere.

His touch was tender but firm, filled with a longing that spoke volumes more than his heated whispers ever could. His lips on yours felt like a desperate plea for forgiveness and comprehension; it was harrowingly sweet

As the heat between both of you simmered down, your lips parted from his slowly. Your breaths mingled in the silence of the studio, his forehead gently resting against yours as neither of you made an effort to pull away.

"Noah," you murmured, hesitating before scrambling to find the words that had been replaced by a strange echo of warmth spreading through you

He only responded by taking the camera off of your neck, placing it gently on the ground as he took your hips again, pushing you backwards toward the couch.

He stopped only a few inches away from the worn leather, brown eyes meeting yours. He was searching your gaze for guidance, for a sign you had not rejected his overtures. Even in the hushed inevitability of the moment, it seemed Noah was capable of respecting your boundaries. It was a level of sensitivity you hadn't expected from him; from the man who had just recently been a source of anguish.

He must have found whatever reassurance he'd been seeking because he guided you back until the back of your knees collided with the low couch. You fell onto its cushions rather gracelessly, Noah following you closely. The firm press of his body against yours lulled the protests stirring at the back of your mind.

His lips found yours again, their warmth seeping through your defences as though they were melting snow. And, despite his desperately shaking hands, Noah somehow managed to be delicate with you – cautious even. His movements were slow and measured, as though he was etching a memory onto his mind – this moment, you, everything about this.

His hand journeyed the curve of your waist, and the small of your back, exploring your body with an intimacy that reflected his longing. It pondered hesitantly at the hem of your shirt, a silent request seeking permission. You nodded slightly against his kiss – affirmation and surrender.

Noah's fingers crept under your shirt, pressing into the small of your back with an intensity that quickened your breath. You gasped at the contact of skin on skin; it felt like fire, burning through your inhibitions and reservations.

In the wake of that touch, you found yourself reciprocating; fingers tracing his broad shoulders before venturing down to his toned arms, all the way to the base of his spine. As if driven by instinct, you pulled him closer to you.

His hand found its way to your cheek, sweeping away a loose strand of hair as he broke the kiss and looked at you with a vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

"I’ll be different this time forward, I swear," he murmured, his eyes riddled with hope and fear, "I'll make it right.

His declaration sent a jolt of hope coursing through your veins, and you found yourself reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. It wasn’t often you saw him like this - so raw, so open. The sight of him, so beautifully vulnerable under your touch, stole your breath away.

"I don't just want different Noah," you replied softly, fingers brushing against his jawline, "I want better. I need better."

His eyes hardened for a moment - not in anger, but in determination. His arms pulled you closer to him as if he was afraid you'd disappear. You let out a giggle at his quaint possessiveness and pressed your forehead against his.

“Better...” he murmured, committing the word to memory. His hand slipped from your waist to capture yours, weaving his fingers through yours so naturally that it took your breath away. His grip was steady and warm, a promise of what was to come. He kissed down your jaw, to the bottom of your ear. Following down the skin of your neck he stopped, just above your collarbone with a gentle bite and kiss.

“I can do better,” he vowed, “You deserve better.”

You peered down at him beneath thick lashes, seeing a flicker of the man you once knew.

There was no guarantee that he could deliver on his promises or that you'd be strong enough to withstand the hurt if he didn't, but in this instance, under the lights of your shared studio, you didn’t care.

You needed him.

“Prove it,” you replied, causing Noah’s cheeks to burn with desire as he lifted your shirt over your head, kissing down the skin towards your jeans.

"Noah," you breathed, squirming against his touch.

His hands trembling slightly, and Noah undid the button of your jeans, drawing them down your legs.

“Look at me,” he whispered, forcing himself to still as he levelled his gaze with yours. You saw flashes of insecurity flicker in the depths of his eyes before they were smothered by resolve, "I mean it, I'll be better."

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand as if to anchor him—and yourself—in this moment.

"Show me," you dared again. Your voice sounded stronger than you felt, braver than you thought possible. And when he reverently kissed a path upward from your navel—each touch a promise and a plea—you realized that this was not just about words and apologies, this was about actions.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he peppered soft kisses along your bare skin, every brush of his lips sending sparks skittering across your body. The intimacy was powerful, overwhelming in its tenderness.

Noah stopped at your ribcage, locking eyes with you as he observed the rise and fall of your chest, his breath hitching in awe at the vulnerabilities you were sharing. In the silence of the room, his thumb drew invisible circles at the dip of your hip bone, soothing and tranquil amid burning desires.

In contrast to Noah's tenderness was the fierce desire reflected in your eyes - it mirrored his hunger, stirring a fire within him he thought had been extinguished. Swallowing down his nerves, he continued to trail kisses up your torso, each one laced with an affection that was as profound as it was raw.

A hushed "Wait," escaped your mouth, catching him off guard. Seeing uncertainty cloud his eyes, you squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"This doesn't mean everything is forgiven, Noah. It means I'm giving you a chance."

The sombre tones of your voice sparked a flicker of something in his eyes—scared but hopeful.

"I know," he whispered, brushing your hair away gently from your face. "And thank you...for giving me this chance."

You nodded and reached up to trace a finger along his jawline, pulling him back closer to you. Your lips met once again in a dance familiar yet new; a single affirmation of trust and longing that extinguished any lingering hesitation.

His breath fanned along the fabric that coated your desire, leaving you nervous as his eyes devoured you.

Yet you nodded, allowing him to pull the fabric to the side, and gently glide a finger between the folds.

Your hips withered at his touch, fighting the urge to rut upward against his fingers in desperation for more.

"Noah," you whispered again, echoing through the silent studio.

The soft plea tugged at something in his chest. He was as eager as you, but he knew something like this had to be savoured. With that in mind, he deepened his ministrations, taking slow strokes, tormenting you with an agonizingly measured pace with his fingers that left you gasping for breath.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin while his fingers continued their dance, pushing in and out of your body.

Your fingers clung onto his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as his movements drove you to the edge. Yet there was still a resistance within you, a pull back from the precipice of surrender.

Seeing your turmoil reflected in your tightly shut eyes and furrowed eyebrows, Noah paused before latching his mouth against you, flicking his tongue in long, delicate stripes.

The sudden pleasure of his mouth made you arch your back with a sharp gasp, every lingering hint of resistance crumbling under the litany of sensations flooding your body. Your fingers tangled even more desperately in his hair, encouraging him, pleading without words.

His moans vibrated against your skin, and you dared to watch as he enjoyed every taste you offered him.

The sight caused you to shudder, allowing your body to release and shake around his mouth as you held him in place with your hand, fingers gripping along his scalp.

His whispered praises and adorations mingled with your own gasping cries; an unfinished symphony of pleasure and connection. You called his name, a plea and a prayer laced with ecstasy that reverberated through the studio.

Breathing heavily, you held him still as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Noah's teasing stopped his soft touch now providing comfort as he rode out the aftershocks with you.

When your trembling subsided, you carefully released him, moving your hand away from his head. He slowly kissed up your body, each one a silent thank you left in its wake until you found yourself locking eyes with Noah again

You sensed the eagerness in him, yet also restrained. He stared at you warily as if asking for permission, and while nervous butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you nodded.

"I can show you the world if you’ll let me,” He said softly, a promise twining itself around each word. His breath was hot against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine, exacerbating the butterflies in your belly into starlings.

"Show me," you whispered again, finally allowing yourself to fall, to let go of every single thread of resistance you'd clung to with desperation- ready to be pulled deeper into liminal space.

tags:

@xxkittenkissesxx @deathblacksmoke @nyxisnotok @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @thefallennightmare

@whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @veronicaphoenix @calleyx13 @tosoundlessdarkistare

@somewhere-diamond @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak

@darkmxgician @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera @xserenax-13 @fadingangelwisp

@philomenie @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @anything-more-than-human @blacksoul-2 @sweetwombatpizza

@fuck-me-muke @ferduttini @lacy1986

#bad omens fanfiction #Noah Sebastian fanfiction #Noah Sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #bad omens angst

208 notes · View notes

yaniluvs · 4 months ago

Text

⋆. ˚ ⛇☃︎ ⌇ 승민 : HOLD MY HAND ── you might have just crossed a boundary– catching feelings for your fwb, who is also your dormmate.

𓍯 fwb!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）3.3k ── ༯ TWOSHOT, fluff, 'apparent' unrequited love, tense, dormmates | friends with benefits, uni au, angsty, happy ending, short? ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ kim seungmin the man you are. suddenly im obsessing over fanfics so here's the outcome :3 comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy seungmo day and happy reading <3

the night was thick with the kind of silence that made every little sound feel magnified. the rustling of her sheets, the faint crack of his breathing, even the soft creaks of the bed beneath her felt louder than the thoughts swirling around in her restless head.

she turned over again for what felt like the hundredth time, face buried in her pillow as she tried to will herself to fall asleep.

but her mind was wide awake, racing in that frustrating way it did sometimes, hopping from one thought to the next with no intention of slowing down. the warmth from the body beside her, instead of comforting you into rest, only added to your awareness.

he lay still, his back rising and falling gently in rhythm. his arm, usually flung over her waist, had fallen away sometime in the night, giving her space, but her squirming was testing the limits of even his patience.

a loud sigh slipped out, unintentional but filled with the kind of frustration she only felt when she’s tired, and can't do anything about it.

she felt movement before she heard him, the mattress dipping slightly as he shifted beside her. “y/n,” he mumbled, his voice low and hoarse, dripping with sleep. "what are you doing?"

startled, she froze. she hadn't meant to wake him.

he really didn’t wake easily, so the fact that he was up meant she’d been tossing and turning for a while.

"sorry," she muttered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her as she turned on her side to face him. the dim light filtering through the window barely illuminated his face, but she could make out the mess of his hair and the way his eyes, barely open, squinted in her direction.

"seriously," he continued, rubbing his hand over his face before letting it drop lazily on his bare chest, his voice thick with sleep. "why are you moving so much?"

she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, biting her lip. "i can't sleep," she admitted quietly.

it was a stupid response, one that obviously didn’t explain why she was writhing like a fish out of water, but it was the truth. she just couldn’t sleep.

he blinked at her, clearly processing her words through his sleepy haze.

then, to her surprise, he shifted closer to her. his arm reached out, wrapping lazily around her waist, over the thin, black camisole she wore, as he tugged her towards him, pulling her into the familiar space against his chest.

"then just stop moving," he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair as his lips brushed against the top of her head.

he wasn’t fully awake, that was clear.

this was seungmin in his most unfiltered state, without the usual layers of sarcasm or that teasing grin he wore during the day.

this was him in a space where he let her in more than either of them were willing to admit out loud.

his body was warm, radiating heat in a way that made her immediately feel guilty for disturbing him. his fingers, though a little clumsy with sleep, rubbed slow, lazy circles against her back.

the motion was surprisingly soothing. she let out a long breath, slowly sinking into him as her muscles began to relax.

"you’re restless," he murmured after a few seconds, his hand still moving against her back in that gentle way, keeping her anchored against him. his lips brushed the top of her head again, a ghost of a kiss that she wasn’t sure he even knew he gave.

"always overthinking."

she felt her chest tighten at his words. he knew her too well. and maybe that was why it was so terrifying—the way he could see through her, even in his half-asleep state.

but at the same time, it was why she kept coming back, why she never left his bed after nights like these. he knew her, and despite that, he stayed.

"i’m not overthinking," she mumbled, but the words lacked conviction. he let out a small scoff that vibrated against her forehead, assuring her that he was definitely conscious yet sleepy. cute.

"sure," he muttered, but his tone was softer now, less teasing, more understanding. his hand slid from her back to beneath her the fabric that hugged her waist, fingers tracing mindless patterns across her skin.

"just… try to sleep."

"that’s exactly what i’ve been doing for the past—"

"shush."

at his lazy voice and his hand slowly prompting her figure, she nestled deeper into him, her body naturally curling against his, her cheek resting against his collarbone.

he smelled like the faint traces of his vanilla scented cologne mixed with warmth—seungmin’s warmth, something uniquely his that made her eyelids feel heavier.

"close your eyes, and don’t focus on anything other than sleeping."

"i’ll sleep if you stop talking,"

he let out a quiet, annoyed breath, his grip on her waist tightening just a fraction, pulling her closer to him.

"you’ll sleep," he replied simply, his voice now barely above a whisper.

his body was comfortable, solid against hers, and his steady breathing began to lull her in ways her own mind couldn’t.

the itch to move, to toss and turn, slowly began to fade as his fingers danced across her clothed waist, occasionally slipping under the hem of the same camisole once again to skim her skin.

she wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, caught in a limbo between wakefulness and sleep, with his heartbeat beneath her ear acting as her lullaby.

but eventually, the weight of the day began to catch up with her.

just as she was on the cusp of sleep, she felt his lips brush against her forehead, barely there, like a secret.

"sleep well," he whispered, so soft that she almost missed it.

"night, seung.." she whispered back, letting herself finally fall into sleep, comforted by the fact that, for now, things were exactly how they were supposed to be.

no nonchalance. no heavy talks.

just the quiet, unspoken connection that somehow made it all make sense.

next morning.

the first thing she noticed was the cold.

it wasn’t the kind of cold that came from a draughty window or a forgotten blanket.

not really.

no, this was the absence of warmth—the absence of him.

her body, once cocooned in his embrace, now lay exposed to the chill of the early morning air.

she blinked her eyes open slowly, the sunlight beginning to creep through the half open curtains, painting the room in soft shades of orange and gold.

but his warmth? gone. just like always.

with a heavy sigh, she turned her head toward the empty space beside her, the sheets already cooling where his body had been only a few hours before.

the faintest outline of his presence was still visible—a wrinkle in the bedding, the faintest impression of his form in the pillow.

but seungmin? he was long gone.

it had become a routine by now, one she was all too familiar with. no matter how late the night before — no matter how close their bodies were tangled up in each other, or how intimate the way he held her — he always left before she woke.

sometimes, she’d wake in the middle of the night, find him still there, his arms snug around her waist, his breath soft against her hair. but by morning? always gone.

she stretched out a hand, her fingers brushing against the cold pillow where his head had been, and a familiar pang of emptiness settled in her chest.

it wasn’t like she expected anything different. this was their agreement, after all — being friends with benefits, emphasis on the “friends” part.

no strings attached. no feelings to complicate things.

just two music majors, as close as dorm-mates, fulfilling their hollow desires.

or at least, that’s what they kept telling themselves.

with a groan, the girl pulled herself up into a sitting position, running a hand through her messy hair as she stared at the empty side of the bed for a moment longer.

the apartment was quiet, the early morning stillness only punctuated by the faint sound of birds chirping outside the window. if she strained her ears, she could probably hear him in the kitchen, going about his morning routine like nothing had happened.

like they hadn’t spent half the night wrapped up in each other’s arms, skin pressed to skin, whispered breaths filling the silence between them.

pushing the thought aside, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, the cool floor beneath her feet sending a brief shiver up her spine.

she grabbed her robe from the back of the door and wrapped it around herself, over her camisole, tying the belt with a quick knot before stepping out of her bedroom.

as expected, he was already in the kitchen.

the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the small apartment, mingling with the sound of soft clinking dishes. he stood at the stove, back turned to her as he focused on whatever breakfast he was making.

his hair was still slightly tousled, sticking up in a few places from sleep, but otherwise, he looked like his usual self — calm, collected, completely unfazed by the night before.

yet, adorable. enough for her to fold over.

she lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him. he was wearing a simple black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his usual morning attire, and he moved around the kitchen with an easy grace, like he belonged there.

like this was just another normal day.

because to him, it was.

or, at least that’s what she assumed.

she sighed, pushing the door of his room open a little wider as she stepped out of it, walking to the kitchen.

"morning," she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep.

seungmin glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression unreadable as always, yet he gave her a tiny smile, which she knew was genuine.

"morning, insomniac." he replied, as if he hadn’t left the bed they shared, just an hour ago.

she made her way to the counter, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee from the pot he had brewed, a small smile tugging her lips at his reply.

she leaned against the kitchen counter, her fingers wrapped around the warm mug of coffee. she took a small sip, letting the heat spread through her as she watched the guy move around the kitchen with his usual quiet efficiency.

but as she took another sip of her coffee, she couldn’t help but feel the growing weight of those unspoken feelings, the ones that clung to her chest like a secret she didn’t want to acknowledge.

she glanced at him again, the way his hair was still a little messy, the way he absentmindedly hummed under his breath as he cooked. her chest fluttered, just a bit, at the sight.

“slept well, did you?”

his voice broke through her thoughts, casual as ever, but there was a softness to it – obviously since he already knew the answer, a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

she shrugged, setting her mug down on the counter with a soft clink. “surprisingly,”

he didn’t respond right away. he flipped the eggs with practised ease before turning off the stove, and when he turned around to face her, there was something unreadable in his eyes. his usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by something quieter, more thoughtful.

she was sitting on the chair, fingers idly tracing the hem of the mug, gaze right on it but mind elsewhere.

for a moment, they just stood there, the silence between them heavy with all the things they never said.

the guy’s heart did that stupid thing again where it skipped a beat whenever she seemed like that – he could see straight through her.

her baby hair framing her face, the sunlight bouncing off of the curves of her head. pretty, black, eyes concentrated on the green mug, carrying the same depth they always did, and he would oh so fondly dive into them.

“coffee too strong?” he asked, breaking the silence as he moved to pour himself a cup.

she let out a small breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “it’s fine, just kinda tired,” she chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze.

“how.. about you? sleep well?”

he shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “slept fine until someone decided to practise gymnastics at 3 am.”

his words were teasing, but his voice was gentle, and for some reason, that made her heart skip a beat again.

she awkwardly smiled, scratching her arm, a habit she grew familiar with, and he knew it quite well.

“i’m sorry, i was– warm, okay?”

he chuckled, “warm, and sleep-deprived but lost in thought? yeah, i know,” he replied softly, his eyes lingering on her for a beat longer than necessary before he looked away, focusing on his coffee instead.

and that was the problem, wasn’t it? he always knew. even when she didn’t say anything, even when she tried to brush it off, he always knew.

she hated that about him. and she loved it too.

“thanks.” she suddenly murmured, “i mean, for uh, h-helping me sleep. last night.”

he smiled, this time, softer than ever. “it’s nothing. at least you had a good sleep after.. i don't know, weeks?”

“it wasn’t that long!”

he shot her a look that she knew too well.

“okay maybe it was. but that doesn’t matter for now,”

the corners of his lips curled up at her indignant reply, but he didn’t press further, simply shaking his head as he took another sip of his coffee.

his eyes flicked back to her, soft and observing, and for a moment, he let himself get lost in the simplicity of the scene – the quiet morning, the soft golden light filtering through the windows, and her, sitting at the counter, her sleepy, tousled appearance making her look unfairly adorable.

for a while, they just stayed like that, bantering and sipping their coffee, the easy silence between them filling the room.

it wasn’t awkward. it was never awkward with him.

that was part of the reason she kept coming back to this – whatever this was. it was easy. comfortable.

but lately, that comfort had started to come with a twist – a knot of feelings tangled somewhere deep in her chest that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

his eyes were still on her, his teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful as the quiet stretched between them.

“you’re doing that.. thing again,” he said suddenly, voice low.

she blinked, tilting her head. “what thing?”

“the thinking thing. the kind that keeps you up all night.”

she felt her cheeks flush slightly and quickly looked away, pretending to focus on her coffee instead. “i’m not—”

“you are,” he cut in, his voice soft but firm. he set his mug down on the counter and took a few steps closer, stopping just a foot away from her.

“you get this look when you’re overthinking. your eyebrows scrunch up, and you kind of space out, like you’re solving the world’s most complicated puzzle.”

her lips parted slightly, caught off guard by how easily he read her. “so you stare, hm?” she grinned, trying to lift away the tension.

she didn’t know what to say, so she just stared down at her coffee, feeling a little too exposed under his knowing gaze.

“it’s kinda hard not to.” he replied a minute later, the same expression on his face.

“well, i’m not always thinking about something.. deep.” she mumbled, but the protest was weak, and she knew it. “it’s just about uni, and other stuff, nothing to worry about.” she shrugged.

seungmin just chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made her chest flutter. “sure,” he teased lightly, but then his voice softened. “look, if something’s bothering you—”

“nothing’s bothering me,” she interrupted quickly, her gaze flicking back to him, trying to muster a convincing smile. “i’m fine.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “you know, for someone who’s known me this long, you’re terrible at lying.”

she let out an exaggerated groan, sinking further into her chair as she covered her face with her hands. “you’re so annoying,” she muttered, but there was no real heat behind her words.

“i try my best,” he quipped, the smirk back in full force. but then his expression softened again, and after a beat, he reached out, his hand ruffling her hair gently. “but seriously, y/n. if you need to talk, i’m here.”

she peeked out from between her fingers, surprised by the sudden contact. his hand was warm, his touch soft and uncharacteristically gentle. she wasn’t used to this side of him—the one that was careful with her, the one that wasn’t constantly teasing or sarcastic. it made her chest tighten in a way that was both terrifying and comforting.

“i know,” she whispered, her voice small.

he gave a small nod and pulled his hand back, leaning against the counter again like nothing had happened. “good.”

the room felt warmer now, despite the cool morning air seeping through the windows. her heart was beating a little faster, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of his touch or the way his gaze lingered on her for just a second too long.

she cleared her throat, desperate to break the tension that was creeping in. “so,” she said, trying to sound casual. “what’s for breakfast?”

almost 5 minutes later.

“you know,” she spoke, her voice casual now. “you’re really good at this.” she took a bite of the toasted bread, looking at him.

he glanced at her over his shoulder, flipping the last omelette, eyebrow raised. “good at what? making breakfast?”

“what? no,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes judging him. “why do you think i don’t let you make lunch or dinner? i don’t want to be fined because someone blew up the oven.”

“hey, i'm not that bad,” he glanced her way, defending himself. “i’m literally making breakfast right now.”

“you’ve cooked the same eggs or burnt pancakes for breakfast for almost 4 weeks in a row, seungmin.” she rolled her eyes, speaking again. “but, what i meant was.. you’re good at comforting me.”

for a second, the air between them shifted, the teasing banter falling away as her words hung in the space between them. he turned fully to face her now, his expression softening as he met her gaze.

“well,” he said slowly, his voice soft, “you make it pretty easy.”

her heart did that stupid fluttering thing again, and she quickly averted her gaze, suddenly feeling shy under his intense stare. “you’re such a sap,” she muttered, though her voice lacked the usual bite.

he chuckled, his smile reaching his eyes as he turned back to the food, finishing plating the eggs and toast for himself. “maybe,” he admitted, sliding on the chair beside her. “but only for you.”

she blinked, silently, as her heart skipped a beat at his words. she stared at him, but he didn’t seem fazed by what he’d just said, casually sitting down across from her and taking a bite of his toast like he hadn’t just made her entire world tilt on its axis.

oh, but little did she know, he was as surprised as her at those words leaving his mouth. the fluttering feeling inside his heart, the way she was looking at him, when he tried so hard to act nonchalant.

she picked up her fork, her hands suddenly feeling clumsy as she poked at her food.

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soundlessdreamss · 1 year ago

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Hi!

Can i request lucifer and charlie morningstar with starlight glimmer!Reader?

So the reader was lucifer's child back in heaven and when she saw what her father did without her..She felt anger and sorrow insode herself.. But that didn't stop of her because she fell from heaven to hell...And she changed her appearance so nobody would suspect that she looks similar to lucifer

If you know starlight's cutie mark ability that is different..The reader can collect people's soul and feed the souls to her clock

Her clock is golden one with starlight mark on the behind..And she can time travel but she don't use it alot since she still has some other abilities to keep in control..

And the reader just went to the hazbin hotel just to stay there and help with few stuff... And vaggie knows reader but not that deep..Charlie noticed that the reader had few blonde hair strings like lucifer.. So she thought nothing at first..

And the reader saw alastor as father figure so sometimes the reader calls him father and alastor just tells the reader to call him father which the reader become happy since she didn't had anyone else at all

So when lucifer visits the hotel how he will react?

I could just when lucifer pointed it out alastor would have the biggest grin then spoke

"Oh?,well she calls me her father!"

I wanna see it sooooo badly‼️‼️

It's alright if you don't do it<3

Also can be called the servy anon?

I like your fics sm<3

Hope to see more of it<3

Have good day/evening/night<3

omg I LOVE mlp!! Of course I can write this, I haven’t got that far though so I’m not really sure how starlight glimmer acts but I did a bit of research and I’ll try my best to write this well!

PLATONIC/FATHER ALASTOR X READER X LUCIFER (sorry if this isn’t how u write it, I’m still new to this whole fanfic thing ^_^ ) Also this is kinda angsty, and requests are open!

When you were still a kid in heaven you saw Lucifer as the best father in the world! He loved and cherished you deeply, you didn’t think he would give you up that easily. Would he?

You wanted to play with him one day and looked everywhere for him but you couldn’t find him. You asked an angel if they had any clue where he was but they said he was banished with his wife Lillth because they rebelled against heaven.

he seriously just left you like that? Without a word? To say you were angered was an understatement. you were FUMING. But you also couldn’t help but feel so miserable and depressed that he just left you like that.

you thought he cared about you just as much as you cared about him. But you were wrong.

After a couple hundred years when you became an adult, all of that anger and sorrow that you had stored you from Lucifer, you finally snapped. You took it out on the angels which led you to getting banished for being rude and improper.

The first thing you did in hell was change your appearance because you knew Lucifer was the king of hell and you really didn’t wanna see him again after what he did to you. (You also kinda regretted taking your anger out on the angels who did nothing to you.)

Your first couple months in hell were agonizing as everyone here was so different compared to the angels and people in heaven. It felt like you were an outcast.

You tried to not use your powers as much but when it got really bad you decided to collect their soul and feed it into your clock. Or you sometimes dropped time in order to collect their soul as well.

As you were walking in the streets of hell one day you heard an advertisement about a hotel and it caught your attention. You looked at the tv for the ad and it described a hotel where sinners can be redeemed if they just try to become better.

It sounded like a breath of fresh air compared to all these other advertisements for clubs so you decided why not visit the hotel? It couldn’t be so bad.

After a couple minutes of walking you made it to the hotel and knocked on the door. You were taken aback as a blonde haired girl hugged you tight and welcomed you to the hotel. But you also noticed Vaggie was there.

The blonde hair girl introduced herself as Charlie and also Vaggies girlfriend. (You congratulated Vaggie in private and also mentioned to not let Charlie know about her identity.)

As you were talking to Vaggie in private after being introduced to the hotel and welcomed she told you that Charlie was Lucifer’s daughter. You couldn’t believe it.

Not only did he leave you behind, but he started a whole family without you even knowing. You were in disbelief and asked Vaggie to not let Charlie know that you were her older sister technically.

You both agreed to it and went back to the lobby. Charlie couldn’t help but notice you had blonde streaks in your hair that looked similar to her blonde hair but she just shrugged it off.

You were also introduced to a man named Alastor and he greeted you very kindly. And before you knew it you guys started growing a daughter and father bond.

He treated you just like his daughter if he had one, he filled the parental role that Lucifer never did.

It made your heart happy knowing that you could finally have a father figure that you knew wouldn’t leave you. You guys bonded over the span of a couple weeks and you accidentally called him dad once out loud.

He didn’t mind though and said that you could even call him dad because he thought it was sweet that you saw him as your father.

As the weeks went by Charlie finally had an idea to let heaven approve of their hotel she just needed to call her father to schedule a meeting with heaven for her.

The one thing you didn’t expect her to do was to invite him over though. Fuck. What were you supposed to do now?! You really didn’t wanna see Lucifer again and panicked internally.

You helped the crew set up the hotel for Lucifer’s visit but your anxiety just rose more and more the closer it got to an hour passing by. (Since he said he was going in an hour)

Once it was finally time to greet him he burst through the door and hugged Charlie tightly since he had missed her, he also greeted kiki, and razzle and dazzle. It hurt a bit seeing how much cared for her but didn’t care for you.

You tried hiding behind Alastor a bit but Lucifer looked at his way when he pointed out the reservations and noticed it was you even with the changes you did to yourself.

His breathe got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t believe it was really you after all these years. Oh how he regretted never taking you with him.

He approached you and looked at you closely before saying “[reader], is that really you?…”

He brushed some strands of hair out of your face before pulling you into a hug. That was not something the other members of the hotel expected.

You pushed him off quickly though as you were still angry and uncomfortable with him.

He didn’t get why you pushed him off, he thought you still missed him after all these years of not being together.

It didn’t take too long for Alastor to connect the pieces since he was good observer. You had those blonde streaks in your hair for a reason no?… that’s cause you were related to the king of hell himself, Lucifer.

Alastor than put his hand around your waist pulling you closer. (Not in a romantic way!!) He than spoke up about Lucifer’s behavior. “Lucifer if you don’t mind excusing me but, what exactly are you doing with my daughter?”

Lucifer seemed in shock when he said that. “YOUR daughter? Oh please, you remember don’t you [reader]? It’s me your father, Lucifer! He had a desperate and nervous smile on his face hoping that you would remember him.

Before you could speak up Alastor cut you off and spoke first “Oh really? That’s quite funny cause [reader] calls me her father.”

The whole room went silent after that. Lucifer couldn’t believe it, Alastor was just playing around was he? You were probably just having an inside joke with him but no, you really saw Alastor as your father instead of Lucifer, your ACTUAL father.

You saw the heartbroken look on Lucifer’s face and didn’t know what to say in response but managed to mutter something out. “I’m sorry, but it’s been hundreds of years since that day happened, you need to let me go.”

After managing to mutter that out you excused yourself and went back to your room in the hotel. After Alastor and Lucifer fought over you and Charlie, (and after Charlie and Lucifer sang the song together) Lucifer knocked on the door but you didn’t answer so he teleported inside your room.

Only to see you and Alastor on your rooms balcony together. You were crying on the floor from the painful encounter and Alastor comforted you saying sweet words to make you feel better.

Before Alastor or you could notice Lucifer he quickly left and went back to his palace and rethought about his choices he made with you. He knew he couldn’t get his daughter back, it was already too late. If only he made the decision to take you with him.

note: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!! please don’t be shy to send me requests, I’ll gladly write more fun things like this. ^_^

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #platonic #platonic x reader #light angst

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pretzel-box · 5 months ago

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Hi, I hope you're having a wonderful day!! I love your fanfics sm and I wanted to request GN!reader's reaction to Sebastian introducing Painter for the first time to them after a near-death experience caused by them? It can be angsty or not, entirely your choice! :D

Tags: GN! reader, slight comedy

Words: 1,2k

“How long do we have to walk?” your voice piped up after passing a few rooms with Sebastian at your side, which seemed annoyed at the constant question.

“Like I said before…the past 5 times…in the past 10 minutes…It's DOWN THE HALL.” The annoyed tone in his voice was barely something that bothered you, you just secretly believed that Sebastian is a bit short tempered.

The two of you decided to do a quick trip, escaping the boring shop duties and fleeing into the familiar walls of the blackside. At first you thought that it's another of the frequent scavenging runs, looking for stuff to trade against assets but you could only raise an eyebrow at Sebastian who passed a perfectly fine medkid. Meanwhile you stood there, holding your fourth lantern, while the other three were hanging around your arm.

“What the hell are you doing? Trying to become a damn flash beacon yourself or what?”

—

“Maybe,” you shot back, adjusting the many lanterns hanging off your arm with a familiar smirk. “Ever think about how handy it’d be to have some extra light around here? Unlike some people, I like to be prepared.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at your half-joking comment, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, barely visible. “Yeah, sure. Because carrying a whole damn lighthouse with you is being prepared.”

You just shrugged, grinning as you fell back in step beside him, his file didn't lie, he is quick despite his appearance. “Hey, you never know when you’ll need a little extra illumination. Or, you know, when you’ll need to blind someone annoying.”

“Oh, is that what you’re planning? Using those lanterns to blind me?�� he snorted, glancing sideways at you before giving your head a gentle hit on the back. “Good luck with that.”

“You think I won’t?” you teased, nudging him back with your shoulder as you walked. “I could be dangerous, you know. A real threat.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, really dangerous. I’m shaking in my coat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sarcasm in his voice, the easy banter between the two of you. For all your differences, there was something oddly comforting about the back-and-forth, the way you could trade jabs without any real malice. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. This wasn’t the usual scavenging run, and Sebastian seemed oddly focused, his eyes darting ahead down the dimly lit hall. And aside from that Sebastian once hit you for passing by a perfectly fine medkit once, and now he's the one walking half-blind through the building.

“So, what’s really going on, Seb?” you asked, trying to catch his eye. “This doesn’t feel like one of our usual trips.”

Sebastian hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he forced himself to keep moving. He seems to think about his word choice before speaking up. “I told you, we’re just… going to meet someone.”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued at the mention. “Meet someone? Out here? You know, if you’re trying to sell me to some creepy scientist or something, just give me a heads-up, alright?”

Sebastian snorted again, a genuine laugh escaping his lips this time. “Trust me, no one’s buying your smart mouth.”

“Oh, ouch,” you feigned offense, clutching a hand to your chest dramatically. “You wound me, Sebastian. You really do.”

He just squinted his eyes at your dramatic words but you could see the amused glint in them. “Look, just… trust me, okay? It’s not far now.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically, but you followed him anyway. You trusted him after being stuck with him for so long. You two managed to reach a comfortable level with each other. Few more steps and Sebastian suddenly stopped, causing you to almost bump into his large form and stepping on his tail.

“We’re here,” he announced, gesturing toward an unmarked metal door. You eyed it warily, then glanced at him.

“Seriously? This is where you wanted to go?”

Sebastian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he swiped a shimmering keycard through a reader on the metallic door, and with a loud beep, the door slid open with ease. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft hum of machinery filling the air. You could see a few lights flickering in the darkness, and a strange chill ran down your spine.

“Alright, come on in,” Sebastian said, stepping inside and motioning for you to follow.

You hesitated for a moment, but then curiosity got the better of you. You stepped into the room, glancing around cautiously. “So… who are we meeting exactly?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, clearly bracing himself for your reaction. “This… is P.AI.nter,” he said, gesturing toward one of the screens where a digital face slowly appeared, composed of pixelated lines and shifting colors. The computer itself was behind some iron-fence, keeping you from actually reaching him.

“Hello” the face said in a surprisingly smooth, almost friendly voice. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Your jaw dropped, and you took an involuntary step back, nearly tripping over one of the lanterns dangling from your arm. “Wait a minute,” you said, your eyes narrowing. “Isn’t this the AI that almost got me killed?!”

Sebastian winced, realizing it might be possible and that he's probably at fault too, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah… about that. P.AI.nter can be a bit overwhelming.”

“A little overwhelming?!” you repeated incredulously, staring at him with wide eyes, your stare made him uncomfortable. “It locked me in a room with a giant, homicidal shark! On what planet is that ‘a little overwhelming?”

Painter’s digital face flickered slightly, and you could swear it looked… embarrassed? “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” it said. “I was merely following Sebastian's protocol. I didn’t intend for you to come to any harm.”

“Oh, well, that makes it all better, doesn’t it?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “I nearly got my brain fried off, but hey, it was just following protocol.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Maybe someone shouldn't flash sharks with flash beacons and then insist on a stare battle.” He mumbles under his breath before trying to intervene. “Look, I get that you’re upset, but Painter’s actually really helpful. And, you know… it wanted to apologize.”

You stared at him for a moment, then back at the screen. “Fine,” you said finally, though you still didn’t look convinced. “Apology accepted… I guess. But if you try to kill me again, I’m taking a sledgehammer to this entire room. Got it?”

Painter’s face flickered again, and it smiled. “Understood. I will make every effort to ensure your safety in the future.”

Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “See? No harm, no foul. Now, why don’t we all just… start over, yeah?”

You shot him a look, but then a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, okay. But you owe me for this, Seb. Big time. Especially since it seems like it was your fault in the first place.”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Deal.”

The three of you spend some time, first P.AI.nter made you uncomfortable since the memories of his little navipath tricks are unsettling you. But the more you got to know him, the more you felt at ease. He seems genuinely nice and interested in you, probably aiming to befriend you.

As you turned to leave, you could hear Painter’s voice behind you, sounding almost… amused. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips as you and Sebastian walked back down the hall, the tension finally beginning to ease.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #roblox pressure #sebastian solace fanfic #pressure #pressure x reader #painter #painter pressure

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zepskies · 5 months ago

Text

What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍️

Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓

But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?

For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.

While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.

I'm still here for two very important reasons:

I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.

I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖

Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...

And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:

(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)

That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:

If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)

If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.

If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✨razzle dazzle.✨ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...

Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.

But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.

Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.

They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.

Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.

Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.

Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.

Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.

For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.

If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).

Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:

(In no particular order)

@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof

@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings

@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords

@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze

@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋

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f1fantasys · 10 months ago

Text

My first ever fanfic, hope you all enjoy ❤️

'...and, and, and with Lando'

Angsty/Smut w/ Lando Norris

You'd been in a relationship with Lando for a year now, known him for 6 years prior. He was the most amazing and caring boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Being a Formula 1 driver, it meant Lando was away from you a lot more than that of a normal couple. Still, your love for each other made it work. You relationship with Lando had its ups and downs, but you always found your way back to each other, loving the other more than ever. You traveled around the world following Lando as much as you could, but it wasn't also so easy to just up and leave your home and be away from/wfm all the time.

Things with Lando had been great, however you recently noticed him becoming more distant. When you were away from each other, he would only respond to your texts with one or two word answers. You hardly ever face-timed- he was always too busy. You thought it was just a phase, and that things would eventually get back to normal. His races were recently not the best and only seemed to be getting worse.

You were currently with Lando in Belgium for one of the races. You'd arrived last night, hoping to have a quiet night in with your boyfriend, however he hardly even acknowledged your presence. He said he had an important dinner to attend, with his mate Charles, and he left you alone in your hotel room.

Later that night, you'd been scrolling on Twitter when pictures surfaced of a very drunk Lando and Charles, out at a nightclub, with some girls in the background. It was odd for them to have got out clubbing considering it was a race weekend, but what made you more upset is the fact that he left you alone to go have some fun with friends and GIRLS.

You tried to stay up for him, but he was just not showing up. Around 3am, you heard the hotel door open, and a very drunk Lando walked in. You decided to ignore him and pretend you were still sleeping. Lando somehow managed to strip his clothes off, even in his drunk state, and pulled back the bed covers to see you sporting a t shirt of his, and just some lacy panties. He immediately let out a groan at the sight of you. He ended up cuddling you, and after a while you felt some kisses being peppered on your back and shoulder. He turned your body around and started leaving open -mouthed kisses going further south.

'Lando stop, its late and you have to up early tomorrow'' you stated. Something clicked, and his whole mood changed. He let out a scoff and said 'what's it to you? I have a race, not you, and maybe i wanted a good fuck from my girlfriend to get me in a good mood, but clearly you don't care about me.' Before you could even say anything back, he turned around, mumbling something to himself.

You wanted to say something back, but decided against it, after all, its not worth arguing with someone who is not in their right senses.

As you drifted off to sleep again, you couldn't help but think of a memory from a few months ago.

Lando and you were in Italy for one of the Grand Prixs'. You had a lovely day out at the track for quali, Lando placed P2, so naturally he was in such a happy mood, he could burst. You loved to see that side of him - he was proud of his achievements and he wouldn't stop boasting about how you were his lucky charm. He has also debuted a goatee that weekend, so to say he looked handsome was an understatement. He had always been the most beautiful person to you, but with his new look, he looked HOT. So fucking hot. And lucky you, you had him all to yourself that night. The two of you usually loved to fuck the day before a race (as if you weren't doing the nasty every other day). It really got the adrenaline going for him, and for you, well you would not complain at all.

As soon as you reached your hotel room, he shut the door and his lips were on you. 'You look so fucking hot in this dress Y/N, gosh you don't know what you've done to me today.' You smiled into the heated kiss. 'And you looked so poochie, as your twitter fans would say, with your little goatee. I hope it stays forever and ever', you replied. This quickly took a turn when he started kneeling down in front of you, while you quickly removed your dress. He was shocked to find you wearing no panties, only a lacy bra that barely held your boobs together. He smirked ‘so fucking pretty, princess’ and before you could react, you felt his tongue on your pussy. He licked and licked and licked until your legs were trembling. ‘So close Lan’ you murmured. You could feel him smiling while continuing his slaughter on your most sensitive parts. After a few minutes, he carried and dropped you on the kind size bed. He quickly opened your legs and resumed his activities. His thumb quickly found your clit and you heard him mutter a few ‘cum, cum for me princess, cum for your Lando’ and with that, you came undone. Lando, however, didn’t slow his activities. You quickly felt his finger enter you-one, then two and within seconds he was finger fucking you. You came for a second time, then a third. Eventually you had to tell him to give it a break. You were feeling overly sensitive, and that only made him prouder of his achievements for the day. He wore a smirk at the thought of over stimulating you with just his mouth, the cheeky bugger.

You decided to put on a movie while lazily lying together, when suddenly you felt his fingers drawing lazy circles on your thigh, getting closer to the place you already craved him (yes, even after 3 orgasms, not less than an hour ago). By now you weren’t concentrating on the movie, you know Lando wasn’t as well. You quickly jumped him, bringing your lips to his, both fighting for dominance. In the end, you won, he opened his mouth to you and your tongues tasted each other, not getting enough. You both started to remove each others clothes until Lando was left in only his boxers. You started grinding on him, feeling his cock get harder by the second. ‘Someone’s needy’ you cheekily said to him. Without a second thought, you were suddenly on your fours, with Lando behind you, entering you without warning. ‘Let’s see who’s more needy’, he whispered. He set a slow pace at first, feeling so proud at how you take him, feeling your walls clench around his dick, so nicely, so tight, and so wet. He pulled your hair, causing you to just be on your knees. He spat into his hand and put it out by your mouth. You knew what to do. You quickly licked his hand clean of his spit, earning a loud and sexy moan from him. ‘My fucking princess’ he muttered and he suddenly started slamming into you at a harder pace, giving you no warning. ‘Taking me so well. Rewarding me for placing P2. Praying for my first win tomorrow. My princess’. After a few minutes you started to feel your walls clench. ‘So close Lan’ you told him. His finger found your clit and before you knew it you were crying out his name, praising him. After a minute or two, your felt his warm splutter inside your walls and heard another sexy groan form the man you love. As he slowly slid out, he peppered you in kisses ‘love you love you love you’ was all you heard as you both fell asleep.

That was the last thought you had before you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Checking the time, you saw it was 8am. You saw that Lando’s phone and wallet were gone, which meant he wasn’t in the room. You shot him a text asking where he was and that you wanted to talk to him. The plan today was for f1 media duties. You were supposed to accompany him through the day. You decided to get ready and get some breakfast while waiting for him. At 10am, you received a text. Merely stating a quick ‘already at the track, see you later’. Your heart sank at seeing that he didn’t even ask you to come there and be with him. You decided to go to the hotel spa to relax your mind a bit. By evening, you hoped to get a dinner with your boyfriend. It was the least he could do after acting like a total dick.

He came in the room at 7pm, sent you a quick ‘hi’. He showered and started putting on some clothes. ‘Are we going out for dinner?’ You asked. ‘I thought you could maybe order some room service, I’ve got dinner with the lads tonight’. You didn’t have time to reply. He left to the room straightaway. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.

The next day was FP1 and FP2. You had woken up before Lando, and had been ready waiting for him. This way he couldn’t escape you. The morning was filled with awkward silences and barely two words being exchanged between the two of you. You arrived at the track around 12pm, and the day ended around 10pm. You hardly saw Lando, but it was nice to catch up with some of the other WAGS. You also learned that Lando and Charles each had 2 points deducted due to their partying two nights ago.

As the two of you reached your hotel room, you’d had enough. ‘Lan, what’s going on. You’ve barley talked to me since I’ve come, we haven’t had one meal together in the three days, you haven’t touched me or kissed me at all, other than your drunk state. What is happening. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? You seem to want to get away from me at all points of the day. We didn’t even hold hands waking into the paddock today’ you said, a few tears rolling down your cheek. He just sighed. ‘Can we not talk about this now, I have quail tomorrow and don’t need all this added extra stress. Stop being so needy. ’ You both had already eaten at the paddock(separately, that is). He jumped into bed and ignored you the rest of the night. Not even a cuddle. No reassurance at all.

Quali day was the same. Two words here and there but nothing. Lando had a good quali, after a long time, placing P3. But you had no energy to even start up a conversation again. To no surprise, the two of you didn’t fuck. The day before the race. You didn’t fuck. That says something.

Race day came and Lando finished with a good P3, keeping his quali placement. You hoped this would lighten his mood and that things could fall into place. Maybe the stress of the race caused him to act differently. Back at the hotel, you were getting ready to put clubbing. Happy that he’d said he wanted you to go with. You wore a sexy satin white dress that hugged all your curves in the right places. Deciding to forego panties, hoping to have a happy Lando later.

You walked into the club hand in hand. While Lando was getting your drinks, you drifted into thought about the last few days. Stressing about the race gave Lando no reason to act like a dick to you. You still wanted to talk to him about everything and clear the air. The night was going well. You chatted with some drivers and had deep conversations with the wags. Danced a bit. Just had a good night. After dancing for some time, you and Alex, Charles’ girlfriend walk up to the boys for a breather. There was no place to sit as Alex took the last chair. So you decided Lando’s lap was the best place. Plus you wanted to be close to him and to hold you. And that was the last straw. He immediately said ‘what the fuck Y/N. Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes. Fucking hell’. You were shocked. Not only was that rude, but he was rude to you in front of your friends. You needed to get away before embarrassing yourself with crying in front of everyone so you made a beeline for the door. You tried to breath through the cold air of the night and heard the door open. Any angry Lando emerged. ‘We’re leaving’

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. You could still feel the tears sting your eyes and you tried to keep as quiet as you could.

When you got into the room, Landon sat on the sofa and looked at you. Not in a sorry way, not in a sweet, loving way. But a way that threw daggers at you. He was angry. You’d never seen him this angry before. ‘Lan” was all you said as you sat down. ‘I think we need to break up’ he said. You were speechless. You felt your heart break into a thousand pieces. ‘Lando, what’s going on’. You could barely even talk. ‘Please don’t do this, talk to me. Tell me what I’ve done wrong. Or tell me how you think we can fix this. I can’t lose you like this. You’re the love of my life. You know that’ you managed to say through your tears.

His look wasn't angry anymore, just annoyed. ‘You’re so needy. Always needing my attention. Constantly texting and calling. I’ve had enough. I need to concentrate on my racing. Not on you.” Hearing this sounding like someone shot you. You could not believe that your Lando was saying this to you. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything. ‘I’ll get my PR to get my stuff in the morning’ he said. And walked out the door.

He left you in a pool of your tears. Not knowing where it all went so wrong. You waited and waited and waited for him to come back. Say he was wrong and apologize for everything that he said in a rage. But he didn’t. You fell asleep on the floor but the sofa. Waking up to a broken heart the next day. You tried to call Lando, only for it not to go through. You tried to call Charles, Lando’s best friend in the world of F1, but he was already on a flight home. You called Max F, to ask if Lando had said anything. He didn’t know what was going on.

You packed your things and tried to convince yourself that it was for the better. There’s no point being in a relationship where you are not wanted. You booked an early flight home (you and Lando were supposed to stay back for a few days). Once home you rang Ria, she worked with Lando at Quadrant and quickly became one of your best friends. She came over and you explained everything to her. You found out that Lando had blocked you on all socials. Blocked your number as well. You didn’t know what to do, you don’t know what you did so wrong that it seemed Lando couldn’t stand you. You were so confused. Years of friendship and years of love just to be tossed to the side without reason.

Max F came to visit you a bit later in the day. He said he talked to Lando but Lando wouldn’t say anything about you or why he did what he did. You felt like you had no more tears to cry. You were exhausted. Max stayed for a while before heading back.

A few months had passed since everything had happened. Everyday you tried your best to hold yourself together but how do you do that without the person who bought you comfort. You were lonely. You stopped meeting your friends, even your f1 friends. They would only remind you of him.

One day you were having coffee at your favorite local coffee shop. Sitting on your own, sipping your coffee, out of nowhere, you heard his voice. At first you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. You looked up to see the curls you so lovingly adored. His back was to you, so he hadn’t noticed you yet. Your body was frozen. You didn’t know what to do. Getting up would cause him to turn to see you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to see you yet. After a minute he finally turned. You were looking down at your phone.

‘Y/N’. You braced yourself and looked up. ‘Lando’.

‘Can we talk?’ He asked. ‘Sure’ you replied.

‘How are you? You look great’. You smiled a bit. You did not look great. And you were not ok.

‘I’m good’ you lied.

‘How are you doing’. He kept quiet for several seconds. ‘Not good. Letting go of you-‘.

‘Lando stop, I can’t do this right now’. You interrupted him. Your mind was racing and you immediately got up and left.

You tried to calm yourself down once you got home. Deciding to have a cup of tea, your put some water to boil. A knock at your door startled you. You looked through the peephole and saw none other than Lando standing at the other side of the door.

Contemplating what to do, you opened the door slightly. ‘What are you doing here Lando?’ ‘Please let me in, I really need to talk to you’.

Maybe letting him explain himself was the closure you needed. Carefully you opened the door and for the first time took in his appearance. He looked just as shit as you did. But he was still the most handsome man you had ever seen. You moved to the side to let him in and locked the door behind him. ‘Coffee?’ You asked. ‘Yes please’ he said.

The both of you sat at each end of the sofa. Not knowing who should start first or what to say. Lando started- ‘pushing you out of my life has been the most painful thing I could have ever done, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, please hear me out’. You tried you calm your nerves while listening to him. All you wanted to do was erase the last few months and jump into his arms and never let him go.

He continued- ‘things haven’t been going my way recently. What with the car and my teammate outscoring me at races. I talked to Zak about it and he said I was letting our relationship affect my career and that I had to make a choice. Choose what’s more important. I shut him down of the idea for several months. He couldn’t make me chose between my love for you and for f1. The last few races towards our breakup had been the worst. You tried to be there for me and I keep distancing myself. Thinking maybe Zak was right and I should try not be with you and see how I race. Safe to say that was the worst thing I could have done. My races since then have been even shittier. I've had 3 DNFs in the least 5 races. But more importantly, my life feels so hopeless and incomplete without you. Y/N I am so so truly sorry for the way I treated you and for the things I said to you. If anything, I am needy one in our relationship and you are always there for me. To be happy with me or to cry with me, you stood by my side. And as soon as things got difficult, I blamed it all on you. Please know that I have always and will always love you with my whole heart and I hope you can forgive me some day. I understand if you need time to process everything but please know I will wait for you. However long it takes. You are the only person I want to be with. The only person I want to love.’

By now the tears are streaming down your face at full force. Cautiously, Lando takes your hand in his. You feel electricity travel through your whole body at the contact. You tried hard to think about what he said and to really believe him. But he was right. You needed time to think about it all. Even though he admits his mistake, there was a time when racing was more important than you. Do you give yourself in or do you deserve better than that?

‘Lan’ you started. Lando felt goosebumps just by calling him that. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell me the truth. And trust me, I do want to believe you. I want to forget everything that has happened and continue to live our lives by each other. But I also need time to process. I can’t just drop everything and move on. What you did to me hurt me and I am still recovering the pieces from my broken heart. I don’t know if I am ready to risk it breaking down again. You are and always will be special to me but I just need time before we can become as close as friends even.'

‘I get that' he started before you interrupted him for the second time that day.

I also have to ask, that night out in Belgium with Charles - the photos-' your voice broke halfway through the sentence. 'What about all those girls you were with? Why were you with so many girls, when i traveled miles to be with you and you left me sitting alone in a hotel room.'

Lando sighed. he knew those pictures would come up someday. He needed to find the right words to say to you. To tell you he was never unfaithful. 'Charles and I were minding our own business in the club. Until those girls came along. They claimed to be fans but we both got bad vibes off of them. We immediately shut them down and tried to ignore them. We even moved to another area but they kept following us. Needless to say other people around got the wrong impression and started taking pictures of us. Nothing at all happened with them, I would never cheat on you Y/N. Even though i was acting like a total dick to you, i never stopped loving you.' I also want to apologize for my behavior when i got back to the hotel that night. What i did was so wrong and i can't stop beating myself up over treating you like that.'

All you could do was nod. You didn't know what else to say. You just needed time to think everything through, and most importantly protect your heart at all costs.

'Thank you for listening to me. Please reach out to me when you’re ready.’ With that he got up, kissed your cheek and left.

Needless to say you couldn’t function for the next few days. Your mind was in overdrive about thinking what to do. Of course you knew you still loved him. You wanted nothing more than to just go to him, hug him, kiss him, forgive him. That’s what your heart wants. But do you listen to your head or your heart?

About a week later Lando was at home watching tv (it was the winter break). With a few days to go before Christmas all he wanted was to be in his own space, comfortable silence. He heard the doorbell ring and ignored it. Until the person rang it again, and again. Frustrated, he got up and opened the door without checking the peephole. What he wasn’t prepared for, was you, standing there, looking as beautiful as ever, holding a mistletoe above your head. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes. Without thinking or saying anything, he pulled you into his house and out of the snow. You both stared at each for what felt like hours but was just a few minutes.

‘Well’ you said looking up at the mistletoe. ‘Are you going to kiss me?’ Lando gave you the biggest boyish grin he’d ever given you. And without wasting another second, smashed his lips to yours. You both stood there just embracing and kissing each other, tongues battling for dominance. The two of you knew that you still had things to talk about, re-assurance for each other (you, that you could trust him, and him, that you actually have forgiven him). He gently carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. He sat you down on the bed, suddenly doubting the next move he should take. You didn’t refuse him carrying you to him room, so you must want the same thing as him.

Right? Right.

You quickly pulled him flush against you, both of you ripping each others clothes off. ‘Missed you so much’ he said. ‘Lan I can’t live without you. I need you, always. I’ve missed you so fucking much it’s a miracle I got through these past few months without you. You are my life.’

As soon as you both were butt-naked, you rolled over so that you were sitting on Landos lap. You both had missed this view. You started kissing again. Landos hands found their way to you ass. Massaging it roughly, while you started grinding on his already hard cock. Your juices were already starting to cover him up. Lando lied flat on his back, and moved you to sit on his face. Boy had you missed his tongue on your pussy. He was licking and sucking and touching all of your most private areas. Not giving you any room to breathe. But in the best was possible.

After a few minutes an idea popped into your head. ‘Lan, hold on’ you said as you lifted yourself off him and turned your body around so you could take his hard dick into your hands. ‘Naughty’ you heard him smile, as he resumed his activities on you. Stroking him a couple of times, spitting in your hand and combining it with your juices that were already on him, you took the tip of his beautiful cock in your mouth. The thick vein at the side was what you missed the most. You sucked and licked what you could, pumping the rest of him in your hand. You almost gagged, having gone a long while without doing it. You’d almost forgotten how big he was. ‘Lan, m’ close’ you squealed. ‘Cum for me my love, cum into my mouth’. And with that, you came undone. He sucked up all of your juices. Then re positioned you on his lap.

‘Need you in me’, you managed to croak out. ‘I know baby, you’re still on birth control?’ You nodded. He lifted you up and and you felt yourself slowly sink down onto him. God you had missed this feeling. Him being buried deep inside you. You start to set a good rhythm. Not too slow, not to fast. Just perfect.

After a while Lando lifted you up and re positioned your bodies again. This time you were on your back and Lando was on top of you. You really missed having all his weight on you. He started slamming into you, harder and harder, fucking you. Fucking you after what felt like forever. Tears started stinging your eyes. You were in pure bliss and it was all because of a single man. A few minutes later you found you walls starting to clench around him.

‘Wait for me princess' his mumbled while you nodded. ‘Fuck Y/N I’m so close. I’ve missed you so much baby. I’ve missed you and I’ve missed this pussy of yours, that takes me so well. You let me fill you up so well’. And with that you both came crashing down, legs shaking, heavy breathing and small laughs at just how amazing that was.

After a few minutes, Lando gently slid out of you, earning a moan from you. ‘Just going to get you cleaned up baby’ he cooed. He got a warm cloth and slowly wiped all the mess you both had created. He returned a few seconds later, lying down on the bed, and pulled you to his side. ‘I’m still so sorry for everything Y/N, but thank you for coming back to me. I love you with all my heart and I promise to always keep you happy. Will you spend Christmas with me at my families this year?’ ‘Of course Lan, I’m so happy we found our way back to each other’ you said as you got up on one elbow and kissed his jaw. His lips quickly found yours and the two of you kissed and kissed and kissed until you both fell asleep, excited for what lies ahead.

Thank you for reading, I really hope you all enjoyed this! xx

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 smut #f1 angst

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lara-cairncross · 2 months ago

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Hi! how are you? I hope fine!

I wanted to know if you could recommend me some Mikey angst fanfics. I feel like I've read them all and at the same time I haven't, hehe.

Love your fairy AU its verry beautyful

(My english is not the best 😅)

heya! i'm glad you like the au :D

I can definitely give u some recommendations for michelangelo fanfics! can't guarantee you haven't read them already, but hopefully a few of them are novel. also gonna tag @roronoacoldbrew, @desterea, and @appleblondie0397, cuz y'all asked for some mikey recs too!

I'm not gonna include all my recs, cuz that would take ages, but I DO have a collection on Ao3 that has like, ~250 entries. and they're 90% mikey-centric, sooooo there's a lot more there! it's linked at the bottom of this post :D

i'll be your detonator -> rottmnt, 4k one-shot, oh my god this fic/series deserves so much more attention. bad future timeline, follows Mikey being THE coolest motherfucker while having several mental breakdowns and arguing with Leo and missing his brothers a lot. the writing style of this author is probably my favorite on this entire list-- like, I would read a novel written like this!!! please read it oh my GOD. and then message me to tell me you read it so I can have somebody to talk about it with I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH

atrophy -> 2012, 36k two-shot. ohhhhh boy this one is NOTHING but angst. follows Mikey reflecting on his life and his relationships with his brothers, right before a suicide attempt. second chapter is his brothers reflecting on their relationships with him as they try to save his life. if I'm being honest, the language is a little too flowery for my taste at certain points? but it's also VERY visceral and graphic, and if you're looking for angst this is literally as angsty as it gets!! like seriously check the tags on this one

1660 days ago -> rottmnt, 4k one-shot human au that isn't exactly mikey-centric?? but basically, follows Donnie's POV after he, Raph, and Leo all die in their family home and stay behind as ghosts. Mikey is a little kid who moves in and is the only one who can see them, and they all begrudgingly adore him. ITS SO CUTE AND IT NEEDS MORE ATTENTION PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

over the rainbow -> 2012 x rottmnt, by @vanillavengeance! I think a lot of people have read their other fic (which is also amazing and definitely recommended), but their most recent one is SO GOOD ALREADY and it deserves more attention. Rise!Mikey opens a portal as a tot, falls straight into the 2012 verse, and gets found by Karai-- so he ends up in the hands of the Foot Clan! SUCH good Mikey angst and the relationship between 2012 Raph and Rise Mikey is absolutely adorable, I love them so much :,) 2012 RAPH IS SUCH A BIG BROTHER AND I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT

house away from home -> 2012, AuDHD Mikey rep!! and also anxiety and self-esteem issues and dysfunctional family activities and swufhehnfenhhjrr HEY I LOVE THIS FIC but it does. hit a little close to home. REALLY WELL WRITTEN AND FANTASTIC EMOTIONAL ANGST THO! and also Woody is here :D completed, but the author has it listed as 3/4 chapters, so don't be scared off by that!

choose wisely (or at all) -> rottmnt, 8k one-shot, turtle tots!!! this one is SO CUTE omg-- basically, Mikey is his brothers' favorite playmate, but because he's so little all three of them just kinda??? make him play whatever they wanna play? LIKE ok it's hard to explain but it's literally just a fic about little kids messing around and how being the youngest sibling sucks and learning to speak up for urself and it's PERFECT. THIS IS MY COMFORT FIC. its sweet its fluffy its (slightly) angsty and i love it dearly!!!!

stalling -> 2012, 1k one-shot. VERY short but pure Mikey angst. he stays behind to fight Shredder to give his human siblings time to escape and warn the other turtles :,)

walk with open hands -> 2012, 10k two-shot by @goodlucktai. Mikey gets his hands on one of Renet's time-traveling clocks after Splinter dies, and jumps around the timeline to try and save him. takes some really cool cues from Rise!Mikey's powers! GOD I CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS FIC ENOUGH. like this altered my brain chemistry the first time I read it.

--actually now that I think about it. basically ANYTHING BY THIS AUTHOR IS AMAZING. so much fantastic 2012 Mikey-centric stuff!!! you do have to go back to their older works, since most of their recent fics have been about Rise Leo-- but it's worth it! a few of my other favorites by them are:

the entire give up the ghost series -> 2012 human au where Donnie dies, Mikey is the only one who can see him, and he becomes a paranormal investigator in college because of it;

problem child -> 2012 human/highschool au that's basically 100k words of the 2012 boys fucking around and being family and overcoming difficulties together and Mikey being the most annoying lovable golden-retriever ray of sunshine to ever exist;

traveling so far to get there -> 2012 one-shot where Mikey and Raph end up in a post-apocalyptic world and just kinda,,, chill? until they don't. idk how to explain it but it's really fun, I love how Mikey and Raph's dynamic is written here :D

either way, we're not alone -> rottmnt, 16k one-shot that takes place over the course of the Kraang invasion in the bad future timeline, all from Mikey's POV. another one that doesn't have NEARLY as many hits as it deserves oh my god-- I love love love fics that take a look at this timeline and how fucked up it was! and this is a rly nice mikey-centric one :)

promise -> rottmnt, 8k two-shot by @dysfunctional-doodle. Listen this author has so many amazing Mikey fics from basically every iteration, BUT. THIS ONE. THIS FIC IN PARTICULAR. IS ABSOLUTELY MY FAVORITE. follows Mikey in the good timeline as he grows his mystic powers, with the caveat that he starts seeing visions of the future. I ain't spoiling anything more than that but GOD plz read this one it makes me insane, and the second chapter??? HEARTBREAKING the angst is 10/10. I also really really love this fic by the same author, so that's another one I recommend checking out if you haven't read it before!

big siblings, big family -> 2012, 2k one-shot. this one's pretty short BUT ITS SO CUTE. Mikey gets sick with a virus that only infects mutants, so all his human siblings get to take care of him-- featuring big brother Casey and big sister April and big sister Karai, and hey. hey what if I screamed. i love this concept so much THOSE ARE HIS BIG SIBLINGS!!! AND HE'S THEIR LITTLE BROTHER!!!! this makes me so happy, not super angsty but Mikey does get REALLY sick so you can count it as hurt/comfort :D

orenjinohana -> rottmnt, currently 120k+ words by @geoblitzz and @urlocalllama!! this fic is SO fucking angsty and delicious and terrifying,,, like I would get sick to my stomach with anxiety whenever a new chapter dropped. Mikey catches the eye of a really dangerous yokai and gets kidnapped, abuse and gaslighting and angst ensue. you gotta be especially careful with the tags/trigger warnings on this one tho-- not gonna spoil too much, but things get dark. this fic isn't complete, but it's reached a very natural end to its first arc in my opinion? so you can finish it without feeling like you've read an incomplete fic :) also check the comment section on every chapter if u wanna see me going insane I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH

the better half of better things -> 2012, 4k one-shot, ITS SO FUCKING CUTE. Mikey and Leo hanging out at 3am, Leo comes out as transfem to Mikey, sibling bonding ensues. this is another author that I LOVE the writing style of, but this time it's more for their humor??? like the comedic timing in their fics is SO GOOD. this fic in particular is my favorite but they've written some really fun Rise ones too! not angsty at all but as the CEO of baja blast duo I needed to include it lmao

wanting, getting, needing -> rottmnt, 2.5k one-shot. Mikey dies saving Leo during the events of the movie, and everything kinda falls apart without him. this one's pretty short but ngl I LOVE this concept, Mikey is always depicted as the heart of the team in every iteration so it's super fun to see what happens when he's no longer there!

remember your mission -> 2012, 60k words. IT'S A FUCKING MIKEY-CENTRIC PACIFIC RIM AU. I love this fic to death. it's got ANGST it's got COMFORT it's got SIBLING BONDING it's got,,,, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. but also the sillies being silly!!! anyway the ending broke me. read this one at ur own risk but like,,, DO ACTUALLY READ IT LMAO and then. once again. yell at me that you did so I can talk to somebody about it. Mikey being able to drift with basically any of his family members??? and the four main boys all being interchangeable because they're just THAT close????? perfection

someone to protect -> 2012, 3k one-shot. Mikey's brothers get turtlenapped during a mission that goes wrong, he gets to be a badass and rescue them, and ends up getting seriously injured in the process. hurt and comfort! yay!

our hearts beat louder (than thunder) -> rottmnt, currently 5k words by @belleyells and still being updated as far as I know! Mikey gets injured during a battle and loses his memory; cue older brothers being worried sick and trying to prevent Mikey from freaking out and being scared of them. I'm so excited to see where this one is going!! it's angsty, but Mikey with memory loss is also just,,, really fun to read about in my opinion ahdhehfhrh

the night at rucker park -> rottmnt, 78k words. Shellshocked fic!!! honestly, one of the few Mikey/Miles fics where I feel like both of them are characterized really accurately? anyway its ~80k words of the two of them falling in love and fucking around and being idiots and-- in Miles' case-- slowly experiencing cellular decay! Yay for angst! I know I keep saying this but GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. IT DESERVES MORE ATTENTION. give it some love plz, it's also one of the only finished Shellshocked multi-chapter fics I could find (coming from somebody who currently has an unfinished multi-chapter Shellshocked fic shhhhhh)

be like your brothers (and never like yourself) -> 2012, 25k words. this is another author who has so many FANTASTIC mikey-centric fics from multiple iterations, but this one is definitely my favorite from them!! Mikey's self-worth is so low that he starts picking up specific traits from each of his brothers in an effort to be more "useful", which. doesn't go very well. very angsty, lots of mikey hurting (emotionally and physically), but also pretty cute at the end! hurt/comfort my beloved mwah <333 I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH something about it itches my brain

feed me poison till i drown -> 2007, 8k one-shot. Leo leaves, everything kinda falls apart, aaaaand Mikey ends up being convinced to join the Foot Clan by Karai! and the eventually his brothers find out and everything goes very terribly wrong. and i love it. the ending is also left up to interpretation, so it's a really cool read! not super angsty, but Karai's mind games leave Mikey as an unreliable narrator, and the breakdown of his relationship with his family is really well done :D plus anything with Karai and Mikey bonding makes me happy sooooooo

trust is earned (not freely given) -> 2007, 2.5k one-shot, from the same author as the previous entry I believe? mikey's brothers slowly realize that something is wrong with him-- they can't read his emotions or his actions anymore, he dodges questions, etc etc. eventually donnie realizes that they fucked up and he doesn't know how to fix it! no real resolution, just angst and dysfunctional families YAY

when you can't sleep at night -> rottmnt, 7k one-shot. follows three separate instances in Mikey's life where he had trouble falling asleep for whatever reason, went to his brothers for help, and got all the sibling love and comfort he deserves :D primarily fluffy but there's definitely some hurt/comfort in here, especially for the part that takes place after the events of the movie! this is another comfort fic for me ahdhehfhher it's just. very cute. and it reminds me SO MUCH of my little brother when he was a toddler SO IT MAKES ME FEEL SAD AND HAPPY AT THE SAME TIME RAHHHHH

so, I guess we all have issues -> 2012, 122k, human au. OH MY GOD. LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN EVERYTHING BY THIS AUTHOR IS SOME OF THE BEST SHIT YOU'LL READ IN THIS FANDOM BUT THIS FIC IN PARTICULAR WAS SOOOOO FUCKING GOOD. super fucking angsty, but also a lot of sibling bonding??? technically found family??? basically, the 2012 boys all get reincarnated as humans, but Mikey is the only one who remembers their past lives and the fact that they're siblings. he goes on this whole journey to find out where Leo and Raph and Donnie ended up (kinda? cuz in the end they all sort of come to HIM instead but yknow), and has to convince them of the fact that they were mutant ninja turtles in a past life. so that's fun! also raph is trans and leo has PTSD and donnie is struggling as a child genius AND ITS SO GOOD AND SO ANGSTY AND SO FLUFFY AND ITS COMPLETED SO THERES NO REASON WHY YOU SHOULDNT READ THIS RIGHT FUCKING NOW RAHHHHHH

other fics (specifically mikey-centric) by the same author because i swear to god they're LEGENDARY TO ME:

on the flipside -> rottmnt one-shot where April and the boys get hit with some kind of species-swap spell, and April ends up as a mutant turtle while the boys end up as humans;

exhaust trails through space -> 2012 one-shot where Donnie and Mikey need a fucking vacation from Earth (don't we all), so Donnie gets a spaceship from Bishop and Pb&J duo get to fuck around the cosmos for a few weeks and ignore their problems while actually enjoying each others' company;

(un)reality -> 2012 two-shot where Mikey gets captured by the Kraang during his stint in Dimension X and basically gets brainwashed to the point where he tries to kill his brothers when they finally come for him;

play the fool, pity the fool -> 2012 two-shot with MEGA depressed Mikey, this one in particular is really well written-- his downward spiral into depression, his suicide attempt, and his eventual recovery are all written beautifully and realistically and MMM it's so fucking good;

if i could have it back -> 2012 one-shot human au/apocalypse/zombie au, where Mikey and Donnie get separated from the rest of their family and have to survive long enough to find them again;

these days -> 2012 multichapter, unfinished BUT basically Mikey and Donnie get fed up with the way Leo and Raph are acting after Splinter's death (this fic definitely bashes them a little but it's still a good read), and decide to leave the lair and build their own home away from their dysfunctional family;

division difference -> 2012 multichapter, also sadly unfinished BUT it's about Donnie and Mikey getting separated from Splinter and their brothers as tots and growing up feral-- super intriguing concept, and very well written :DD

the broken and the helper -> rottmnt, 9k words. Mikey playing therapist for literally his whole family except himself and completely burning out. and then his brothers figure that out and talk to him and its all very fluffy and sweet in the end and sometimes that's what i need. not super angsty, but definitely hurt/comfort!

angelo -> rottmnt, 4k one-shot. AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MIKEY GETTING THE NICKNAME "ANGELO" FROM LEO BC LEO SEES HIM AS A GUARDIAN ANGEL. baja blast duo fics you have such a special place in my heart (I need more of them) AND THIS ONE IS JUST SO CUTE IM SORRY. a little bit of angst bc of,,,, movie events? but still very cute :)

consuming darkness -> 2012, 68k words. Mikey messes up on a mission and it ends up getting Donnie seriously injured. he gets blamed by his brothers, internalizes it, gets serious with his training and basically becomes this like??? cold-blooded murderer on a revenge mission??? LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I am. SUCH a lover stories where a character loses/sacrifices everything about their personality to become what they think everyone wants them to be. THIS IS THAT STORY. and then when Raph and Leo realize what's happened to Mikey and have no idea how to "fix" him??? THATS THE GOOD SHIT OH MY GOD. love this fic inject it straight into my veins. on fanfiction.net instead of ao3 (and sadly unfinished), but it's really good for Mikey angst :3

new tricks -> 2012, 3k one-shot, another one from fanfic.net! this one isn't angsty at all, just Mikey and Splinter hanging and bonding together :D I love it though, it's such a cute little fic and very comforting to read ahdhehfhehfhr

no one is alone -> rottmnt, 23k words currently! follows Mikey dealing with everyone's emotional shit after the events of the movie,,,, except his own obviously lmao so he turns to self-harm as a way to relieve stress and anxiety, eventually gets found out, anddddd his brothers help him through recovery :) it's currently unfinished but still being updated as far as I know, and if you want angst, there you go!

temporal differential -> 2012, 7k one-shot. follows Mikey getting stuck in Dimension X for a lot longer than he lets on, and losing hope of his brothers finding him. this one's part of a mini series that kinda revolves around Mikey's time there? and the aftermath? there's a ton of fics that follow this concept but this one isn't tagged very well and doesn't have a lot of hits, so there's a chance you haven't read it if you're looking for new Mikey angst fics to read! plus mikey gets to be smart :333

breakfast for sensei -> 2012, 6.5k one-shot. WHILE WE'RE ON THE TOPIC OF DIMENSION X. this one's about the aftermath!!! AND it has Mikey and Splinter bonding at 3am so I love it so so so dearly. Mikey struggles a lot with nightmares and insomnia after he gets stuck in Dimension X, and eventually opens up to Splinter about his time there and how LONG he was alone and gets some much-needed advice and love. good angst, good comfort, Splinter being a good dad, love love love this one. plus you get a free breakfast recipe! yay!

we'll burn them down -> 2012, 9k one-shot. OKAY LAST ONE ABOUT DIMENSION X I PROMISE. sunset duo focus-- Raph is the first one to figure out that something is off with Mikey, and he's gotta decide how to deal with it! Mikey gets to be a scary badass after surviving alone for so long, Raph gets to be a worried older brother, and Donnie,,,, gets to be there too i guess lmao like i said it's very much a sunset duo fic. enjoy the angst! the hurt/comfort! it's lovely!

empty canvas -> rottmnt, 43k words. I honestly don't remember a lot about this one, BUT Mikey basically takes Leo's place in the prison dimension after opening the portal to get him out?? very very angsty, lots of hurt Mikey! sadly it's unfinished (and it doesn't seem like it'll be updated anytime soon), but what's there definitely qualifies as Mikey angst if that's what you're looking for :) and ofc lots of worried older brothers, which I adore.

--and then ofc, I have a bunch of my own Mikey-centric fics here! I've really only written for Rise so far, but I'm dedicated to mikey angst o7

and like I said, I also have a whole collection on ao3 dedicated just to my favorite TMNT fics! there's genuinely SO MANY MORE I could recommend, but I tried to stick to ones that are older/don't have as many hits?? Kinda?

The rest of my recs would be in this collection! Most are Mikey-centric, but there's a few in there for the other boys too:

for my rottmnt hyperfix | Archive of Our Own

I should warn you though-- I didn't have my collection moderated originally, so people could add their own fics to the collection if they wanted! but then some weirdo Tc*ster ended up adding their shit to it, and I'm pretty sure there's at LEAST one tc*st fic in there somewhere. I've locked it down since then and don't allow outside contributions anymore, but you might wanna filter those tags out :( I contacted ao3 about removing those fics but I never heard anything back. just a warning!!

anyway. hopefully this is helpful for the, like, five people who ALSO feel like they've read every single Mikey fic in existence lmao

#asked and answered #ramblings #fanfic recommendations!#i am obviously completely and utterly normal about this fictional turtle what r u talking about

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soap-ify · 1 year ago

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to relax in your arms

simon "ghost riley" x gn!reader

wc — 1.2k

cw — pure fluff !! subtle suggestive undertones, just reader being burnt out and simon being there to help.

notes — decided to join the tumblr cod fanfic gang . . anyways !! a little fluff because mw3 early access is tomorrow and it could be angsty.

simon is observant, very observant. it's a trait you loved and hated at the same time. yes, he knew of your every cute little quirks, but at the same time, he was able to read your mood too easily — no matter how much you try to hide it otherwise.

so it wasn't a surprise when you were completely burnt out after a week long of paperwork you had to finish up for your crappy job, completely draining you out of energy. you were sat on the couch right now, inside the cozy little apartment you shared with your boyfriend. he was standing in the corner of the living room, those stern brown eyes watching your exhaustion from a distance. he was dressed in a pair of grey shirt and black sweatpants, having had just stepped out of the shower, all fresh.

he had arrived early today, price having had let simon leave the base quicker for the sake of the latter spending more time with you. but seeing you curled up tiredly on the couch; your laptop half open on the coffee table alongside the scattered papers, your face hidden in the cushion whilst your arms were wrapped around your knees — it made something in simon lighten up, a protective instinct that was always seemingly there. a need to comfort his lovely partner.

"poor baby." he cooed in his deep, gravely voice that caught your attention, indicating his presence. though you were too tired to lift your head up and greet him with that sweet usual smile that always adorned your lips. he took this time to kneel besides the couch you were curled up on, his rough yet gentle hands rubbing up and down your arms, coaxing your head up, tired eyes meeting his.

god, you were a mess. your eyes had visible dark circles, body all stiff whilst loose strands of hair were on your face. he knew this feeling too well — being so insanely burnt out that one just wished to disappear and run off to a paradise, seemingly for some rest that would last forever. though he wouldn't let his sweetheart think like that.

his fingers carefully brushed the loose hair strands off your eyes before cupping your face, his palms feeling the squish of your cheeks. "m'gonna help you relax up, 'kay?" he mumbled softly, earning a tired nod from you. he was quick to shut your laptop down and tidy up the table before his strong arms scooped you up the couch, your head instinctively burying in his neck. god, he always smelled so good.

he carried you towards the bathroom, his right foot nudging the door open. he carefully set you on your feet, hands skillfully taking off your shirt and pants alongside your undies. you were so pretty, small against his imposingly tall and muscular form. he loved you so fucking much. a sense of intimacy spread in the bathroom as he gently led you to sit inside the tub, opening the tap as warm water begin to fill the tub, soon engulfing your body in a familiar, comforting warmth.

simon went away for a few seconds and came back with a bowl of rose petals he had secretly saved up for a time like this. he poured the rose petals in the water, watching them spread out and float around your bare body. the prettiest fucking sight ever. you couldn't help but giggle at his little surprise, causing him to crack a small smile that you were still getting used to seeing. he had stopped wearing his balaclava around you, and whenever you saw his bare face and the littlw scars, you couldn't fathom out how such a gorgeous man like him was with you. though he had told you countless times that you were the prettiest thing ever, and deserved everything.

"like my surprise, love?" he asked teasingly and knelt besides the rub, earning a happy nod from you.

"yes, si." you mumbled softly, your voice a bit hoarse from the exhaustion. the warm water was doing wonders on your stiff muscles, and the scent of rose that enveloped the bathroom was so comforting. you closed your eyes and let yourself relax in the warm water.

simon grabbed a bar of soap and gently lathered it up your shoulders, his hands carefully massaging and undoing the knots. a soft groan left your lips as you leaned into him, your breathing getting slow and calm. "you won't get in with me?" you asked in that sweet voice of yours that always made him melt.

"not tonight, love. tonight's all about gettin' my baby cozy and relaxed." he chuckled quietly as he washed you up, his hands going towards your chest in order to gently caress it — chaste and loving movements. in any other situation, his hands would be doing so much more to you, but right now, you were too exhausted for that and he knew it. you were his number one priority after all.

you were starting to get sleepy, all relaxed under the caresses and rubs of his soft hands. "si..." you yawned softly, head leaning forward to press soft kisses on the bridge of your nose, his right hand coming up caress the back of your head.

"so tired, mmh? workin' so hard all week, not taking care of yourself at all." he whispered huskily into your ear, causing you to whine and give light punches on his arm, a cute pout on your lips that he immediately kissed as soon as it appeared.

you were always so sweet to him, taking care of him after rough missions or after a painful nightmare. it was his turn now to take care of you, to let you relax. after a good few minutes, he turned off the tap and took off the plug, watching the water drain out of the tub. he scooped you out of the tub and nicely dried you up with a towel, ruffling your hair up before he carried you to your shared bedroom.

he sat you down on the bed, dressing you up in a pair of his boxers and black shirt that was clearly oversized on you, making you feel all cozy. "thank you so much, si..." you sighed happily, your eyes half-open while your usually loud mind turned into a state of pure bliss. you laid down on the bed with a sleepy yawn, stretching your arms and legs out. fucking hell, you looked adorable.

he laid down besides you, his arm quickly wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer, your head pressing against his firm chest. "love you, si... love you, love you, love you." you sleepily babbled, snuggling into him, your fingers clinging onto the fabric of his shirt whilst your eyes fluttered shut.

"love you too, baby. now hush, go to sleep. m'gonna keep you all cozy." he whispered softly, one arm reaching out to turn off the lamp and pull the blanket over you both. he sighed softly, his eyes soon fluttering shut too whilst he held you protectively, feeling your body relaxing as you entered a state of well needed sleep.

"goodnight, love."

#who else is anxious for mw3 #i feel sick #anyways #soft ghost #i love him so much #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #rurufic #simon ghost riley x reader #i am just tagging anything at this point

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alphacentaurinebula · 11 months ago

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Fanfic Recs!

Been on a reading spree so I thought it would be nice to rec a few of my favourite Good Omens fics

The Many-Venomed Earth (teen) - Gorgeous AU 1930s detective story where amateur sleuth Aziraphale must get Crowley off a murder charge. Yes that pun was intentional but actually this one is rated teen. I absolutely INHALED this fic and am halfway through the sequel - it's just brilliant.

Trial & Error (E) - Crowley on trial again - this time in Heaven, and the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is the judge. AWK-WARD. Hilarious, angsty and hot, what more could you ask!

Half agony half hope (teen) - absolutely loved this one! Regency AU which basically uses the British class system as a replacement for Heaven, with a lovely bit of moral awakening, especially for Aziraphale. I’m a sucker for a good bit of history and there are some nice real historical events referenced within - part of said moral awakening - and really deftly done. highly recommend.

Jesus, Etc (Gen)- the very first Good Omens fic I read, in that desperate post S2 period where all I wanted was a funny, happy resolution for those ineffable idiots...and this one delivered!

A Narrow Escape to the Country (teen) - properly funny. Aziraphale and Crowley appear on a daytime househunting tv series. Hilarity ensues.

Married at first sight (teen)- another reality show, which I have not watched, but that did not interfere with my enjoyment of this fic. Fake marriage is like…my favourite trope. Give me more.

Muddle through somehow (teen)- oh wait, here’s some more! Fake marriage and fake kid and fake country cottage. The voices are spot on in this one!

The Grinder Logo Doesn’t Even Have a G in It (E) - You've almost certainly read this already and if you haven't you must. Post season 1 fic which manages to do footnotes RIGHT. Properly funny, extremely hot, and pretty flipping adorable. I loved it.

Slow Show (E) - AU. Who possibly hasn’t heard of this fic? But it is fantastic, and hot and romantic and gorgeous.

#good omens fic rec #good omens fanfiction #good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens fanfic

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inkandtension · 2 months ago

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Perfect?

request: I'd like to request for younger brother's best friend who has a crush on female reader. Changbin as reader's brother and Hyunjin as his best friend who has a crush on reader. Something a little angsty, a lot fluffy and reader finally agreeing to give this a chance. Changbin as Hyunjin's wing man as well, perhaps? Thanks!

Request made by: @kayleefriedchicken

I hope you like this! I actually thought really hard about this… couldn’t decide how to do this, but I tried 🥲

A Hyunjin fanfic

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The first time Hyunjin saw you, he was seven years old, standing awkwardly on your doorstep with Changbin’s lunchbox in his hands. Your brother had forgotten it at school, and Hyunjin, being the dutiful friend he was, had tagged along to return it. The door swung open to reveal you, hairbrush tangled in your ponytail, one sock pulled higher than the other, and an expression of pure exasperation directed squarely at Changbin.

“What do you want now?” you’d snapped, barely giving Hyunjin a glance before grabbing the lunchbox out of his hands. The door shut with a firm thud before either of them could respond.

“She’s scary,” Hyunjin had whispered in horror to your brother as they walked away, his wide eyes darting back at the door as if you might burst through it at any moment.

Now, thirteen years later, not much had changed—or so it seemed. You were still as sharp-tongued, as blunt, and as intimidating as you’d been back then. But for Hyunjin, something had shifted. The fear he once felt had dissolved over time, replaced by something he couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t fear anymore—not even close.

It was awe, pure and simple. The kind of awe that made his chest tighten and his heart stumble whenever you walked into the room. The kind that left him speechless, even when your sharp gaze made it clear you expected a response. And though you still intimidated him in ways he wouldn’t admit, it wasn’t because you were scary—it was because, to him, you were extraordinary.

It started with small, stolen glances when you weren’t paying attention. Like the way Hyunjin’s eyes would flicker up from his sketchbook when you passed by the couch, your steps hurried, your attention focused elsewhere. He would catch the faintest sway of your hair or the wrinkle of your nose as you muttered something under your breath about the mess in the kitchen—his mess, though he wasn’t about to admit it.

You never lingered, and you rarely said more than a few clipped words to him, but Hyunjin couldn’t help but watch, stealing those fleeting moments like they were something precious. It became a habit he couldn’t shake. Whenever you were nearby, his gaze would wander, drawn to you like there was something magnetic about your presence. He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much—why you mattered so much—but it did.

“I think she hates me,” he admitted one day, sitting cross-legged on the floor of Changbin’s room, his hands tugging at the loose threads of a pillow. There was no other way to explain it. The way you barely acknowledged him. The annoyed little sighs when he asked you a question. The sharp looks you sent his way when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Changbin said without looking up from his phone, tossing a pillow halfheartedly in Hyunjin’s direction. “She hates everyone.”

Hyunjin caught the pillow and let out a frustrated groan, flopping onto his back. “Helpful,” he grumbled, burying his face in the fabric like it might somehow drown out his growing confusion. Changbin’s laugh only irritated him further.

“Relax,” Changbin said after a moment, leaning back against his bed. “She’s just like that. If she really hated you, she wouldn’t even bother complaining about the kitchen.”

Hyunjin peeked out from behind the pillow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “So, what? I’m special because she scolds me about dirty dishes?”

“Exactly,” Changbin replied, grinning. “Welcome to the club.”

Hyunjin huffed, rolling his eyes, but deep down, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something in those small moments—something more than indifference hiding behind your sharp remarks and pointed glances. It was a thought that stayed with him far longer than he cared to admit.

…

“Why are you staring at her again?”

Hyunjin flinched so hard that his sketchbook nearly flew out of his lap. He fumbled to keep it steady, his pencil clattering to the floor. “I wasn’t staring,” he said quickly, the heat in his cheeks betraying him.

Changbin smirked from where he leaned casually against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watched his friend squirm. “You’re so obvious, it’s painful,” he teased, his grin widening.

“I’m not—” Hyunjin cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You’re imagining things,” he muttered, avoiding Changbin’s gaze.

“Am I?” Changbin tilted his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Because I distinctly remember catching you doodling hearts with her initials in your notebook last week. Real subtle, Romeo.”

Hyunjin groaned, slumping back against the couch. “Are you seriously bringing that up right now? I was bored! It didn’t mean anything.”

“Right,” Changbin drawled, pushing off the counter to grab a glass of water. “Totally explains why you’re blushing like a schoolgirl every time she walks into the room.”

“Are you going to help me or just keep making fun of me? Now that you know of my crush on her” Hyunjin snapped, his tone exasperated but still laced with desperation.

Changbin blinked once. Twice.

Then, before Hyunjin could process what was happening, he was yanked up by his collar.

“Say that again,” Changbin growled, his face inches away, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

Hyunjin’s arms flailed as he tried to regain balance, his toes barely brushing the floor. He kinda screamed, his voice high-pitched with panic.

Changbin’s grip tightened, his knuckles white. “I’ve seen how you treat your exes. All that flirting and charm, only to ghost them the second things get even a little complicated? My sister deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”

“I know!” Hyunjin spluttered, his voice cracking. “I know she deserves better, okay? That’s exactly why I’m serious about her. I wouldn’t hurt her. I swear.”

Changbin’s glare didn’t waver, his jaw set like stone. “You’d better not,” he said slowly, his tone dripping with warning. “Because if you even think about breaking her heart, I’ll break your legs. Both of them.”

Hyunjin swallowed so hard it was audible, nodding as much as the grip on his shirt allowed. “Got it. Loud and clear.”

Changbin stared him down for a moment longer, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, with an exasperated grunt, he finally released him, letting Hyunjin stumble and drop unceremoniously onto the floor.

Hyunjin coughed, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he tried to regain his composure. “So...does this mean I have your blessing?” he asked hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Changbin snorted, crossing his arms. “Not even close. You’ve got to earn it. Big time.”

Hyunjin groaned dramatically, flopping onto his back like the world had just ended. “Why are you like this?” he whined, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Changbin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Because she’s my sister. And you’re my best friend. Which means I’ll help you, but if you screw this up even once, you’re done. No second chances.”

Hyunjin peeked up at him, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the threat hanging in the air. “Thanks, Binnie.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a long way to go, Romeo.”

Hyunjin grinned, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with being manhandled. “Challenge accepted.”

…

After that, Hyunjin couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he’d started asking you out—it had become as natural as breathing. But he was sure he’d lost count somewhere after the twentieth attempt.

“Why not?” he’d ask, his voice swinging between exasperation and relentless hope.

And every time, you’d respond with a sigh, the kind that made him feel like he was chasing something just out of reach. “Because you and I are so different, Hyunjin. You’re chaotic and spontaneous, and I need things to be perfect.”

“But opposites attract,” he’d argue, grinning as if that could tilt the odds in his favor.

“Not always,” you’d reply, your tone soft but unwavering, leaving him staring after you with a mixture of longing and determination.

Giving up, however, wasn’t in Hyunjin’s nature. If anything, your refusals only made him more determined, more creative. He tried everything—from casually offering you coffee “as friends” to sketching silly portraits of you that he’d leave around the house for you to find. Yet, nothing worked.

One evening, as he sat sketching in Changbin’s room, inspiration finally struck. The room was its usual disaster zone—discarded clothes on the bed, empty soda cans threatening to tip over on the desk, and music playing softly in the background. Hyunjin wasn’t fazed; he’d grown used to the chaos by now, even thrived in it.

“You’re making that face again,” Changbin said, breaking the silence as he tossed a crumpled soda can toward the trash bin, missing entirely.

Hyunjin blinked, his pencil hovering mid-sketch. “What face?”

“The one where you’re plotting some romantic nonsense for my sister,” Changbin replied, flopping back onto his bed with a knowing smirk.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smirk back, leaning into the armrest of the chair. “It’s not nonsense. It’s art.”

“Sure it is,” Changbin muttered, rolling his eyes, though there was a kind of amusement in his tone. He grabbed another can, aiming for the trash again, and missed. “But good luck convincing her it’s not nonsense.”

The next time he saw you, Hyunjin was unusually quiet. No playful banter, no teasing remarks—just him standing in your doorway, fiddling with a small piece of paper like it held all the secrets of the universe.

“What’s that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the small canvas he clutched.

Hyunjin hesitated, the usual confidence in his demeanor replaced with a hint of nervousness. Then, as if making a monumental decision, he stepped closer, extending it toward you. “It’s for you.”

You accepted it cautiously, turning the paper over in your hands. The drawing was simple yet striking—a red heart, colored almost entirely. Almost. A small section remained blank, stark white against the vibrant red.

“What’s this?” you asked, pointing accusingly at the empty part. Your brow furrowed, already annoyed at the imperfection.

Hyunjin’s fingers twitched at his sides. “It’s a heart,” he began, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Mine. I colored most of it to show how full my life is—with art, with friends, with experiences. But there’s this small part that’s always been empty.” He paused, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Until you. With you, my heart feels full.”

You stared at him, blinking rapidly, but not for the reason he hoped. His words barely registered; your gaze was fixated on that glaring white patch. The emptiness. It made your eye twitch.

“It’s not full,” you said abruptly, your tone sharp with irritation. “You left this part empty!”

Hyunjin blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Well, yeah, but—”

Before he could explain, you marched over to the table, grabbed a black marker, and began furiously coloring in the blank space like your life depended on it.

“There,” you declared triumphantly, holding the paper back up to him with a satisfied huff. “Now it’s full.”

Hyunjin stared at the paper, now a completely filled-in red heart with a jagged black patch in the corner. Then he looked at you, standing there with your arms crossed, glaring like you’d just solved a global crisis. A grin twitched at the corners of his lips, quickly turning into a chuckle.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head.

“I just fixed it,” you shot back, refusing to back down. “Why would you give me something unfinished?”

Hyunjin took a step closer, his voice softer this time. “Because you’re the missing piece.”

For once, you didn’t have a sharp retort ready. The words hung in the air, settling over you like a blanket you didn’t know you needed. Your gaze dropped to the drawing, your grip on it loosening. Hyunjin reached out, gently taking the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours.

Your heart raced, but you refused to let him see the effect his words had on you. “Well, you should’ve just said that,” you mumbled, stepping back awkwardly.

Hyunjin smiled, his confidence returning as he tucked the drawing carefully into his sketchbook. “I did. You were too busy fixing things.”

“Someone has to,” you muttered under your breath, guilty a bit, for not listening earlier.

…

Your room was like stepping into a gallery—a museum of meticulous intent and unnerving precision. It wasn’t just clean; it was curated. Everything had its place, and every place had a purpose.

“Why are there outlines for your slippers?” Hyunjin had asked the first time he stepped in, pointing at the faint white markings on the floor by your bed.

“So I know where to put them,” you replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hyunjin crouched to examine the outlines closer, his eyebrows furrowed. “You mean you can’t just...put them down?”

You shot him a look that could have cut glass. “And risk them being out of alignment? I’d rather not.”

Hyunjin blinked at you, both impressed and mildly terrified. But his curiosity didn’t stop there. His gaze drifted to the small plant sitting primly on your desk. It wasn’t remarkable—just a simple pothos in a sleek white pot—but what caught his attention was the strange contraption attached to it. A slim silane drip system dangled above the soil, releasing a single drop of water at calculated intervals.

“What’s with the...plant IV?” he asked, tilting his head.

“It’s not an IV,” you said sharply, as if offended by his ignorance. “It’s a precision watering system. It keeps the soil perfectly hydrated without overwatering or making a mess.”

He leaned closer, watching a single bead of water hang delicately from the tube before falling to the soil below. “You mean to tell me you built this...so you wouldn’t have to water it yourself?”

“Exactly,” you said, your voice brisk. “It’s efficient. The plant thrives without unnecessary guesswork, and I don’t have to worry about forgetting.”

Hyunjin stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. You weren’t a science genius—far from it. Your math grades were decent at best, and you weren’t exactly winning any STEM competitions. And yet here you were, engineering a system so precise it would make a NASA engineer proud.

“It’s just a plant,” he finally said, half in awe and half in disbelief.

“It’s not just a plant,” you countered, crossing your arms. “It’s part of my environment. If it thrives, I thrive.”

And that was how it was with everything about you. Your bookshelves were alphabetized to perfection. Your desk was a masterpiece of organization, with compartments for different types of pens—ballpoints, gels, fountain pens, even highlighters sorted by color and thickness. Your wardrobe looked like it belonged in a high-end boutique, each item arranged by hue and sleeve length. Even the framed photographs on your walls were measured and leveled to exact angles and heights.

“You’re intense,” Hyunjin had said once, watching as you adjusted one of those frames for the third time in as many minutes.

“And you’re sloppy,” you’d retorted, not even sparing him a glance as you measured the frame with your fingers.

He couldn’t argue with that. His own room was a mess of half-finished sketches, scattered pencils, and the occasional stray sock. But while your intensity intimidated most people, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel fascinated. You were a puzzle he wanted to figure out, a masterpiece of precision that he wanted to study up close.

And maybe—just maybe—he wanted to see what would happen if a little chaos found its way into your carefully knitted world.

His room? A living, breathing embodiment of entropy, where finding his phone often turned into a scavenger hunt.

But when it came to you, everything changed. He found himself trying to fit into your meticulously organized world, even if it went against his very nature. He made an effort to leave his shoes exactly in the outlines you had taped to the floor—a system he still found absurd—and resisted the primal urge to toss his hoodie onto your flawlessly made bed, even though it was practically begging for it.

What baffled him the most, though, was the contradiction that was you. You, with your symmetrical bookshelves and color-coded wardrobe, had an element of chaos he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. It was in the way you lived. You’d always have three books on rotation, switching between genres like you were competing in some kind of literary decathlon. A thriller, a romance, and a non-fiction book about fungi? All in the same week. And somehow, you kept them all straight.

Then there were the battles with Changbin—endless, dramatic, and often absurd. You’d argue over who got the last slice of pizza like it was a Supreme Court case or accuse him of ruining your towel arrangement when he’d only touched the couch for two seconds. The chaos spilled into the smallest things, but somehow, you made it work. It was like you thrived on order but secretly delighted in breaking the rules you’d set for yourself.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he was glad changbin told him one thing: you had a soft spot for books—and, he suspected, for him.

He’d seen it in the way you’d let your guard down when you got immersed in a story, losing track of the rules that normally governed your life.

How lucky of that fungus routine book to have that spot in your heart? Maybe, he thought, maybe I can get some space too….

Hyunjin could find a way to balance his own chaos in a way that fit within yours

…

Hyunjin’s heart raced as he watched you, his hands nervously clutching the edges of the book. When you finally spoke, his breath hitched.

“What’s this?” You eyed the book cautiously, as if expecting a trap.

“Open it,” he urged softly, his usual playful tone replaced with something quieter, more sincere.

You hesitated for a moment, before flipping it open. Your eyes scanned the page, and the air between you two seemed to hold its breath. On the page was a drawing—a sketch of the two of you sitting together, exactly as you were now. But in the drawing, the world felt softer. The lines of your faces, the way your gazes met, were tender. It wasn’t perfect—nothing in Hyunjin’s world ever was—but it felt real. It felt right.

“This is how I see us,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice low but clear. “Two people who are so different but still... fit.”

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. You were never one for sentiment, never one to indulge in these kinds of gestures, but something about this, about the way he looked at you, made you pause. For once, you didn’t have a clever comeback.

Your heart beat a little faster as you closed the book, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Your mind raced, turning over everything, and yet, you couldn’t find a way to resist the pull between you two.

“Why do you keep trying?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question felt heavier than you’d intended, as if you were asking for something more than just an answer. You were asking for honesty. For reassurance.

Hyunjin met your gaze without hesitation. His eyes were steady, unwavering, and for once, there was no playful mask to hide behind. “Because you’re worth it,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time, you didn’t have to fight the emotions bubbling inside you. You looked at him, really looked at him. His messy hair, the way his lips twitched into a soft smile, the sincerity in his eyes. The realization came slowly, like a gentle wave breaking over you. What if?

What if you let go of your fears and doubts? What if you let him in?

The thought lingered in your chest, soft and warm.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. With a small smile, you closed the book, your fingers brushing against his as you handed it back. “Alright. Let’s give this a shot.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, the shock and hope flickering across his face. “Wait, really?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your tone. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

He laughed, the sound filling the space between you like music. It was light, carefree, and full of hope. He leaned back slightly, his chest rising and falling as he exhaled in relief.

Hyunjin’s heart felt fuller than it ever had before. And for the first time, it wasn’t about the art he created or the world he built around him. It was about you—and the possibility of something more, something beautiful. He finally had the answer he’d been waiting for.

—please inform me if there are any mistakes!—

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