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lostfracturess · 7 months ago

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symptoms and causes | ch. 11

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem.

I don't know how.

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now?

I knew this was right.

Right for her.

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first.

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how.

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him.

Sorry.

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense.

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered.

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word.

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care.

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled.

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill.

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied.

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen.

This was my punishment.

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want.

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her.

How could I not?

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it?

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her.

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age.

No, she didn't know I'd set it up.

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me.

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies.

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating.

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall.

My blood roared in my ears.

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open.

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now.

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna.

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right.

In his twisted way, he was.

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard.

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain.

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right? You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair. It had taken everything in me to push her away.

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me.

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you." Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?"

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course.

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel.

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything.

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything.

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair.

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat.

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five?

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder.

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood.

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak.

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time?

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table.

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many.

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision. Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet.

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall.

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course.

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity.

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg.

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut.

I reached for the syringe and read the label.

Adrenaline.

Smart girl.

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers.

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror.

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse.

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it?

How much power this woman had over me.

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't.

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within.

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this.

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish.

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated.

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off. "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full.

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life.

Not until her.

Not until she changed me completely.

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me?

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her.

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before?

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little.

Nothing.

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves?

Because she does.

She deserves everything.

She is everything.

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life?

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me.

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips.

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for.

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized.

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better."

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything.

"Say something, Satoru."

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!"

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me. Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger.

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this.

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her. Gods, how I love her.

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore.

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that.

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse.

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next.

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment.

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half.

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in. Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting.

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right?

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was.

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Second-year lecture.

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her.

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her.

But I knew it was wrong.

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her.

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence.

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face.

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—"

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know.

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat.

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment.

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out.

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out.

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me.

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep.

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency.

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself.

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks.

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it.

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open.

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder.

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence.

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out." I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages. "You want me to do it? Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows. "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk.

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag. "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest.

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares.

Another night of that shit.

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault.

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her.

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself.

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good.

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it?

It was over.

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin.

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch.

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill.

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank.

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination.

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but — manageable.

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed.

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side.

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it.

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it?

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable.

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched.

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips.

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun.

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me.

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion.

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it."

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh?

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything.

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh?

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned.

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head.

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter?

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me.

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut.

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin. I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line.

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips.

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second.

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward.

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole.

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her.

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin.

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body.

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—"

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips.

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle.

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release.

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips.

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm.

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm.

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit.

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance.

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release.

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me.

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight.

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious. "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are.

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

#symptoms and causes #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #gojo angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

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theoretically-izzy · 2 months ago

Text

Just Friends?

summary: you’re in love with your best friend who doesn’t feel the same way. right?

Modern AU!Anakin Skywalker and Fem!reader

A/n: ah! this is my first time writing a fic and i might’ve gotten carried away… there’s also original names. not all of the names are star wars related. please feel free to reblog! it would mean a lot!

cw: smut; unprotected piv, pet names, car accident..

Love. It’s a funny thing. I’ll never understand it. I only know that when it hits you, it hits you hard. Here I am, 25 and still pining over a man who doesn’t want me. You would think that after ten years I would forget about him and move on. It’s hard when he’s your best friend. Anakin Skywalker. I met him my sophomore year, his freshman year. Our moms worked together and became best friends. It was only inevitable that we would too. Every weekend was a movie night at the Skywalker house. Filled with love and laughter. The only times I hated it was when an unwanted visitor came. But I denied the real reason I disliked her.

I told myself it was just because she was too quiet. Not outgoing. Definitely not because she was dating him…. I hated the way he held her in his arms. I eventually began to realize it was because I wished it was me. Any moment I had alone with him was bliss. She didn’t go to our school. They met at summer camp the year before we became friends. So, school, especially choir was a safe place to be with him. He made me laugh like no other. And never changed the way he acted around me when his friends were around.

Now here I am, teaching a class of annoying seventh graders how to sing. Anakin is still in med school. I always admired him for it. He never thought he was smart enough for it. It took my encouragement. We still keep tradition and every Friday night; I go over to his apartment for movie night. When he graduated, he and his girlfriend, Padme, split up. So, for the past 6 years, I’ve never really had to worry about anyone else. He only had a few short relationships throughout the past six years since he graduated. Occasionally his sister joins us for movie night, that’s when we have to watch cheesy hallmark movies. Not that I hate all of them, but I dislike most of them.

I looked down at my desk and saw a text on my phone.

“Just you and me for movie night. Up for Fast and Furious?”

I smiled at the text. My students were currently working on their assignment, so I replied,

“That’s a stupid question, Anakin”. I put my phone down and I sat my chair.

He texted back almost immediately, “so I take that as a yes, y/n?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a yes. I’d love to talk more but I have a class to teach. Love ya”

“I’ll say a prayer for those students lol. Love ya.”

I smiled at the last sentence. We’ve been inseparable for ten years. Of course, we love each other. Mine just goes deeper than his. I’ve thought multiple times about telling him. But I just couldn’t. He’s always with someone new when I finally muster up the courage to tell him. And its not like I’ve stayed single. I’m actually with someone right now. He’s amazing in every way. He’s just not Anakin. I looked down at my phone again and realized I had a text from him.

“Hey babe, I’m gong out of town to see my parents for the weekend. I know you’re going to Anakin’s apartment for movie night, so I figured i’d tell you now”.

I feel like such a bitch. At least he’s not jealous of Anakin. My last relationship ended because I refused to stop seeing him.

I texted back, “okay, have fun!” I know I should’ve said more, but I really didn’t care. I saw another text from him but before I could answer it, the bell rang.

“Okay class, that’s homework if you didn’t finish it. Have a great weekend!” All the kids quickly piled out of my classroom. Once I was alone, I read the text from Trey.

“Okay. I will. Be safe on your drive up there.”

“I will.” I replied. I got my things together and walked out to my car. Once I got in, I connected my phone and started blasting love songs. I’m a hopeless romantic. I started driving.

He lives in the main part of Coruscant. Which is about 45 minutes away from where I live. I spent the drive belting love songs, consciously daydreaming about the life I could have with Anakin.

Once I pull into his driveway, he’s already outside waiting for me.

“Jeez, y/n, took you long enough” he smirks.

“Fuck off, Anakin” I laugh and flip him off. I walk closer to him and give him a hug. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. His muscular arms wrap around me tightly and contract as we breathe in sync. He smelled like the woods behind his house, where we used to explore. His curly dirty blonde hair that shaped his face brushed against my cheek as he finally pulled away. He stood aside, gesturing for me to enter his apartment.

“Wow, you cleaned!” I teased him as I took off my shoes and sat on his black leather couch.

“Yeah, but not for you. It is my bachelor pad after all” he smirked as he sat down beside me.

“Of course,” I said with an eye roll. I tried not to sound annoyed, but I know I did. Part of my annoyance isn’t even because I want him to myself. Some of it is because he’s not as careful as he should be. He just whores around because his good looks and charm let him. One day, he’s gonna end up being a baby daddy to at least three women. And I know i’d still be around to help him. Always being his best friend. Never the love of his life.

“Pizza should be here soon” Anakin interrupted my thoughts.

“Okay great” I give him a warm smile as he sits down beside me. He pulls out his phone and starts to text someone. I know I should give him his privacy, but I’m a nosey bitch. I discreetly shift my head and side my eyes towards his phone. He’s texting a girl named Aayla. From what I could see, they’ve obviously been hooking up.

“Who’s that?” I asked, letting my jealousy get the better of me. He looks up and smirks.

“Just a girl I’ve been seeing occasionally. Why? You jealous?” He teased. I knew he was teasing but I couldn’t stop my face from turning bright red. Every normal word went out the window. I couldn’t speak. Finally, I shook myself out of it and responded nonchalantly.

“Hell no. I don’t need whatever diseases you’ve contracted from your escapades” I teased. He laughed and playfully rolled his eyes. He put his phone face down on his lap and shifted his body to face me. His black ‘KISS’ tee shirt tightened around his body, outlining his stunning six-pack.

“So, how’s everything with Trey?” His face was calm. His lips pressed into a peaceful smile.

“Everything’s great. We just came up on 4 months together.” I couldn’t think of anything interesting to tell him. As bad as it sounds, my relationship with Trey is vanilla. Nothing daring or exciting.

“Can I ask you something?” He raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Of course,” I smiled.

He paused, thinking of what to say next. “So, I’ve only seen him a few times, but he looks awfully boring. Is he any good in bed?”

My jaw dropped. I started laughing a little. “I guess so. He’s only the second guy I’ve been with. I don’t have much to compare him to”.

“Wait, really?” He looked astonished.

I immediately started blushing. I felt embarrassed. “Um, yeah…”

“How come you never told me?” He looked genuinely hurt that I didn’t tell him I’ve only slept with two men.

“I don’t know. We’ve never really gone into detail about our sex lives”

“Yeah, but I mean, I told you when I lost my virginity at least. You didn’t even tell me that.” He sounded so hurt. And I could see where this was coming from. Besides this one topic, I tell him everything. He looked down at my hands that were fidgeting in my lap. All of a sudden, he grabs them. His big strong hands gripping my smaller ones, with a look of compassion on his face. “y/n, please don’t feel like you have to keep things from me. I’m your best friend. I would never judge you”.

How was I not supposed to melt. I nodded and swallowed, keeping my hands in his. “I lost my virginity when I was nineteen. In college. I was with Maul. I was embarrassed to say anything because you lost yours before me and I felt, different, I guess. After we split, I was scared to do it with anyone else. I’ve only recently slept with Trey.”

Just as he was about to speak, the doorbell rang. We knew it was the pizza, so he went up to get it. Once he got it, he walked into the kitchen. It only took a couple of minutes before he came back in with two plates of pizza. He set the plates down, walked back into the kitchen, and came back with two bottles of ‘Mikes hard lemonade’. He then sat beside me, turning on ‘Fast and Furious’.

We had gotten through the first three movies before I started to get sleepy. I tried to stay awake for another movie, but I couldn’t. We had talked about various things. Work, school, family, etc.

��I’m sorry, but I better leave. I’m starting to fall asleep.” I yawned tiredly.

His eyes widened. Then he started to look sad. “Wait, why don’t you just stay the weekend? I know you keep clothes in your car, and you said Trey would be at his parents’ house all weekend.”

I smiled. But then I started overthinking. What if I annoy him too much? We’ve never spent a whole weekend together without breaks. Or what if he wants to bring a girl over? I’d just get in the way. “Are you sure? What if you want to put your bachelor pad to use?” I slightly teased. Only slightly because part of me was serious.

He smirked, “Do you really think girls are over here every weekend?”

“From the way you talk about them, yes.”

He started laughing. “No, y/n. I’m really not that big of a man whore.”

I looked down at my hands, “Oh. Well, what about that Aayla girl?”

“Not important. We aren’t exclusive. She’s just something fun. There’s no relationship there. If there was, I would’ve told you, y/n.” He said seriously.

“Okay. I’ll stay. I don’t have pajamas in my car though.”

He smiled, knowing he had won. “I have a shirt and sweats you can wear.”

“Okay. Do you have a pillow for the couch?” I asked with a soft smile on my face.

“Yes. But not for you. You can have my bed. And that’s non-negotiable.”

I rolled my eyes as I stood up. I was too tired to fight. He motioned for me to follow him into his room. I’d only been in there once, and that was when he moved into the apartment. As we walked in, I was hit with the refreshing smell of his light cologne. His bed was in the corner, facing the door when you walk in. Across from his queen-sized bed was a tall, dark wood dresser. He walked over to the dresser and pulled out a gray shirt and black sweatpants.

“Here, they might be a bit big, but you’ll just be sleeping in them.”

“Thank you” I smiled. He set the clothes on his bed before walking closer to me. Once he was close enough, he wrapped his strong arms around me. I hugged him back, breathing in his scent. His head rested on my dirty blonde curls.

“Goodnight, y/n”, he breathed out before pulling away. I sighed and smiled.

“Night, Ani”. With that, he smiled and walked out, shutting his door. I began to remove my clothes and replaced them with his. I was immediately engulfed in his natural woodsy scent. I then crawled into his bed. It was very soft, like laying on a cloud. His black sheets smelled like him. I laid there and started thinking about the future I could have if I just grow a pair and tell him. Eventually, I closed my eyes and drifted off, wishing he was laying beside me.

While I was sleeping, I felt something on my hair. I decided to ignore it. But I can't help but hope it was him. But I won't bring It up.

♡

I woke up to the sound of sizzling. I sat up and admired the way the sun shined on my body through the window above the bed. I tossed my legs over the side of the bed and walked out to the kitchen. I was hit with the smell of bacon, my favorite. I walked further in to see Anakin humming and cooking. He was so focused on breakfast; he didn’t even notice I was awake. So, I started to sing the words of the song he was humming. He quickly turned around with a huge grin on his face. His robe was open, exposing his bare chest. His body was God-like.

“You have such a beautiful voice, y/n/n” he complimented me. Sure, he knew I could sing, but this felt different. I blushed a little before responding.

“Thank you, Ani”. I smiled.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked with his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Yes, I did. Your bed is very comfy” I smiled.

He let out a small chuckle. “I know. So, I deserve a big thank you for letting you sleep in it for this weekend”

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you for letting me sleep in your incredibly comfy bed.”

“You’re welcome.” He turned back around to get our plates ready. Once he was done, he took them to the table and sat down waiting for me. We sat there and ate the eggs and bacon he had made. Then I remembered something.

“Last night, what were you going to say before the pizza got delivered?”

He looked down. He was thinking. “Well, I guess I was just surprised, I guess. It’s hard to believe you’ve only slept with two men.” I looked into his eyes and knitted my eyebrows.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, c’mon y/n/n. Just because we’re best friends, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how beautiful you are.” I choked on my water. I coughed for a few minutes before responding.

“Oh. Really?”

He smiled and laughed lightly. “Yes. Really.” I could’ve died right there. Why couldn’t he be mine?

Once we finished eating, I walked into his living room and sat on the couch. I got on my phone to check any missed calls or notifications I might’ve had. All I had was a text from Trey.

“Good morning, beautiful. Missed waking up next to you this morning” I didn’t. I wished it was Anakin.

“Why is he so cheesy?” I heard Anakin ask from beside me. I can’t blame him for being nosey, considering I did the same thing last night.

“I don’t know. It’s not my favorite if I’m being honest” I said with a slight grimace. He laughed before focusing back on his phone. I looked back down at the text and decided to respond.

“Good morning! Don’t miss me too much. Enjoy your time with your parents”. I rolled my eyes as I pressed send. I started scrolling on instagram. I stopped when I saw an engagement post an old friend from High school made. An instant feeling of jealousy and heartbreak came over me. I heard Anakin sigh as he started to speak.

“Oh yeah, I saw that.” He spoke as if it made no difference. It probably doesn’t to him. But to me, I feel behind. I thought I still had time to start all of that. Is 25 too old? He started to speak again when I didn’t say anything. “Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice was soft, like velvet

“Am I wasting my life?” I looked up with tears begging to be released from my eyes.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He knitted his eyebrows together.

“I though I still had time before starting a family. I thought 25 was still young. But now, Casey is getting married.” I sniffled. The tears finally leaving my eyes. Without saying anything, Anakin pulled me into a hug. Once again, his woodsy smell engulfed my senses and I felt calm. My face was pressed against his bare chest, since he still hadn’t changed. He gently rubbed my back with his hand. After a few minutes, I pulled away to save myself from falling for him even more, if that was possible. He began to speak.

“I don’t think there’s a time limit. You start it when you’re ready.” He smiled softly.

“When did you get so smart?” I teased. He scoffed and playfully put his hand to his chest.

“I am deeply offended y/n.” I pushed him and we started laughing. He paused. “Hey, I have an idea”

“What?”

“Let’s go see my parents. It’ll give us something to do.” He shrugged. I smiled. I hadn’t seen them in a while.

“I love that idea. I just have to get my clothes out of my car and change” I stood up and did just that. I walked back in with my book bag and went into his room and changed. I walked out with my slightly ripped jeans and my favorite ‘Nirvana’ tee-shirt. Anakin smiled and walked into the room to change while I waited. He walked back out in black jeans and a plain gray shirt. Even in the plainest clothes he was ethereal. I grabbed my phone and his as we walked out the door.

•

On the drive to his parents’ house, we blasted our favorite songs. We belted our hearts out, laughed at the stupid shit he said. My heart fluttered every time he looked at me. The way he says my name. After 20 minutes, we pulled into his parents' driveway. We got out and he rang the doorbell. Their house was white and older. There was a wooded area in their backyard where Anakin, his sister Ashoka, and I would explore and mess around.

When I moved closer to my job, I was sad to be so far away. But when Anakin moved to Coruscant to go to college and Coruscant Medical School, I was elated. We were now only 45 minutes apart instead of an hour. I hadn’t been home in 6 months. My parents haven’t even met Trey. Which is intentional.

After a few seconds, his mom Shmi, opened the door and a huge grin appeared on her face. She then gasped.

“Oh! y/n!! It’s so good to see you!” She pulled me into a tight comforting hug. Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Nice to see you too mom” he teased. I pulled away and smiled. She walked forward and pulled Anakin into a hug as well. Just then, his Step dad, Cliegg, came out and gave me a side hug before hugging Anakin. Shmi finally spoke up.

“Well, come on in! I just made some chili if you’re hungry”. I walked into their house and was hit with the smell of her infamous chili. My mouth immediately started watering. I proceeded to the kitchen and didn’t waste and time on grabbing a bowl. Anakin soon entered behind me and did the same.

Once our bowls were filled, we went into the dining room and sat at the table. His parents joined us, and we began to make some small talk. Shmi smiled and began to speak.

“So, are either of you seeing anyone?” Before I could say anything, Anakin spoke up.

“Well, y/n has a boyfriend. But I’m not seeing anyone right now.” I smiled awkwardly, knowing Shmi would tell my mother. Shmi’s face looked almost sad, as if she wanted me to be single or him to not be.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! What’s his name?” She asked brightly. I looked up from the table and smiled.

“His name is Trey” I said quietly.

“Is that short for anything?” Cliegg spoke up.

“His name is Daniel Jones the third. Because he’s the third, he goes by Trey.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Anakin said almost offended.

“Well, you never asked” I replied. The rest of lunch went well. After a few more hours, we decided to head back home. We hugged his parents goodbye and got back into Anakin’s truck. Once we started driving, Anakin cleared his throat and started to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” He said as if he would start crying if I said yes.

“What? No. Why would I be mad at you?” I asked genuinely.

“I don’t know. You’ve just been distant recently, I guess.” He shrugged, keeping his beautiful blue eyes on the road.

“I’m not trying to be. You’re my best friend, I would never try to distance myself from you.” I sighed. He was right. But I’m only trying to save myself from utter heartbreak.

“Okay. I believe you.” And with that, we stayed silent the rest of the ride home. The only time we spoke was when we stopped at a drive-thru to get food. We ate in the car. Still staying silent. Once we pulled into his driveway, I got out and went straight to his room to change.

In had just finished changing, when Anakin walked in. He just stood there. He didn’t say anything. I spoke up.

“Is everything go-” I was cut short by Anakin when he pressed his lips onto mine. I didn’t even have time to react before he pulled away. His eyes widened.

“I- I’m sorry.” With that, he walked out of his room and shut the door. I wanted to follow him, but I could tell he needed to be alone. I sat on the end of the bed and ran my hands through my hair. I looked down and spoke quietly.

“What the fuck just happened?” I crawled onto the bed and laid down. Did he mean to? Was he fucking with me? Did he want me as much as I want him? No. He couldn’t. It’s been too long for him not to have said anything. I curled into a ball and fell asleep thinking about what just happened.

The next morning, I woke up ready to talk to Anakin. I changed into leggings and a plain blue shirt. When I walked out, I didn’t see him anywhere. I checked every room until I saw a note on his fridge.

“I went for a drive. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m so sorry. I’ll see you next weekend, I hope. - Anakin. I wasn’t angry at him for leaving, surprisingly. I understood. I walked back into his room, grabbed my stuff and left. As I drove back to my apartment, I couldn’t help but start to cry. I cried because I was hurt, confused, frustrated, in love.

When I pulled into the driveway, I sat in my car and cried some more. Eventually, I got out and walked into my apartment complex. I got in the elevator and kept my eyes on the floor so no one could see me cry. When the elevator rang, I walked out and ran down the hallway to get to my door.

I walked in and ran into my room. I crawled into my bed and cried. He kissed me and he regrets it. I was stupid to think that maybe we could be something. I fell asleep with tears still running down my cheeks.

After what was probably a few hours, I heard loud knocking on my door. I got up and opened it. Trey.

“Hey gorgeous” he smiled.

“Hi.” I said quietly. I stood to the side allowing him to come in. I couldn’t stop sniffling, so he turned around with a concerned look.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He said softly.

“I just don’t feel good” I lied. I couldn’t tell him that my best friend kissed me, said sorry, then left and I wished he wasn’t sorry. Trey walked over to the couch and sat down. He gestured for me to sit beside him. I did. Once I sat down, he pulled me close to him. I wont lie, Trey is very comforting. He is so sweet and honestly very good looking, but he’s not him. As much as I try to enjoy being with Trey I can't.

I sat there for what felt like another hour, before I got a call. I sat up and answered.

“Hello?” I didn’t recognize the number.

“Hi, this is Coruscant Hospital. Is this y/n y/l/n?” My heart dropped.

“Yes, it is”

“We have Anakin Skywalker here. You were number one on his emergency contact list. He’s in our trauma room right now. He got into a pretty bad accident. I would suggest that you come down and call any other family members”.

I froze. I couldn’t speak. I felt tears running down my cheeks, but I couldn’t make any sound. Finally, I said okay and hung up. I told trey what happened, and I left. I drove as fast as I could without getting pulled over. I sobbed thinking the worst. I called his mom and told her. She immediately tried to calm me down and told me she was on her way.

I pulled into the parking lot and ran in. I told the receptionist his name. She looked him up and told me he was taken into emergency surgery. I sat in the waiting room. His mom eventually came, and I told her. She held me as I cried. We sat in the waiting room for 4 hours. Eventually a doctor came out.

“Are you the family of Anakin Skywalker?”. We both nodded. “He’s out of surgery. He’s in a coma right now. He shouldn’t be asleep for long, but don’t expect him to be awake tonight.”

We nodded. A nurse came and led us to his room. As soon as I saw him, I immediately broke into tears. I pulled a chair up to the side of his bed. I sat down and grabbed his hand. He had a black eye, and his arms were covered in cuts and bruises. He had stitches visible on his chest, before they went under his gown. Shmi grabbed his other hand and gave it a kiss. We sat in silence before she finally spoke.

“He’s so lucky to have you, y/n.” She said softly with a light smile.

“What do you mean?” I asked with utter confusion.

“You bring out the best in him. He trusts you more than anyone. You’d drop anything the moment he asks you to. And you care about him so much. You’ve shed more tears tonight than I think I have in the last 4 years.” She explained.

“Of course, I care about him. He’s my best friend.” She just hummed in response. After an hour or so, another nurse came in.

“Unfortunately, only one of you can stay with him. It’s hospital policy.” I immediately went to stand up when Shmi spoke.

“y/n, stay. You need to. I’ll be back in the morning.” I she said sternly. I didn’t even try to argue with her. She left and I curled up in the chair and slept the best I could.

The next morning, his mom walked in and woke me up. She had brought me some coffee and a breakfast sandwich. We turned on the television and occasionally had a conversation. I barely let go of his hand.

Shmi left to get some lunch. I stayed. I held his hand with my left hand and used my right to caress his face. I whispered softly.

“Please wake up. I need you. I-I love you. Please Ani.” I begged. I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. All I wanted was to hear his voice.

After a bit, Shmi returned, and we talked some more. Once it got late, she left and went back home. I sat there and cried some more. I needed my best friend. I needed my Ani. All of a sudden, I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in” I said calmly. Trey walked in with some food,

“I got you something to eat. Figured I could sit with you for a bit and then take you home.” He spoke.

I sighed. “Thank you for the food, but I’m staying here. I refuse to leave him.”

“Can I ask you something?” He said softly.

“Sure” I said staring at Anakin’s beautiful face.

“If that was me, would you stay all night, not eat and hold my hand?” He spoke softly, but I could tell he was sad and angry. How could I blame him? But I was tired of lying.

“No.” And I said that with full honesty. “He’s my best friend. We’ve been inseparable for ten years. Why would that change now?” I spoke quietly. Not once taking my eyes off of Anakin.

“You love him. Don’t you?” He questioned. I didn’t know what to say.

“Of course. He’s my best frie-”. He cut me off.

“Cut the shit, y/n. You love him. More than a friend. And I won’t stand in the way.” He said solemnly. He walked out and I didn’t say anything. I just kept my red teary eyes on the love of my life. Whether he felt the same or not, it’s true. I kissed his hand. And for the first time in years, I prayed.

I prayed to God that he wakes up. That I get my best friend back. I turned off the television and the lights. I sat there with only the beeping of the machines. I leaned forward, laid my head on the side of his bed and cried.

After a bit, his nurse came to check his vitals. I watched as she did her job. I could tell she was very meticulous, and I was thankful for that. After she left, I felt the urge to cry again. So, I pulled out my phone and called the only other person who comforts me. My mom. The phone rang for a couple of seconds before she answered.

“Hello?” She said calmly.

“Hey mom” I said, my voice cracking.

“Oh, baby. I heard what happened to Anakin. Shmi told me you haven’t left his side in almost two days.”

“How could I mom? He’s my person, my safe haven. I need him. I love him.” I said hesitantly.

“We all know that. We’re positive he does too. We were just wondering how long it would take before you noticed.” She said with a laugh in her voice. She was always good at seeing the positive in everything.

“Damn. We’re dense. I just called you to calm myself down but I’m getting tired so I’m going to try and sleep.” I said in a calm tone.

“Okay, sweetie. Call me if you need me. Bye.” And she hung up. I set my phone down and leaned forward again so I could keep holding his hand.

I laid my head on his arm and drifted off to sleep.

I heard talking. I thought it was just nurses until I heard his voice.

“No, don’t wake her. My mom said she barely slept. I want her to get as much sleep as possible.” It was Anakin. I shot my head up. When I did his beautiful ocean blue eyes were on y/e/c ones. I brought my hand up to cover my mouth as I burst into tears. He smiled and brought his hand up to cup my cheek.

“Never mind.” He let out a soft chuckle.

The nurses all walked out and shut the door leaving us alone. I removed my hand and spoke.

“You’re awake!” I exclaimed.

“Am I?” He teased. “y/n, I’m so sorry about what happe-” I cut him off.

“I love you. So much actually.” I blurted out.

“Wait, really?” He knitted his eyebrows

I nodded. “I love you. More than just a friend. I’ve loved you since the day we met. I’ve loved you through every friend, girl, or fight we’ve ever had. I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I just needed to tell you.”

His face calmed and he smiled. His hand grabbed my shirt and pulled me forward. When we were close enough, he pressed his lips on to mine. We kissed passionately for what felt like hours. When we pulled away, he spoke.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that. I only got girlfriends to distract myself from the fact that I loved you. I thought I finally had a chance until you got with Trey. I’ve tried so hard to contain myself, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to leave Friday because I couldn’t handle having to wait another week before I saw you again. And at night I came in and kissed your forehead against my better judgement. y/n, I love you more than any word could express.”

I started crying again. He pulled me close to him. I laid on my side with my head to his chest. And I stayed like that for the next three days until he was discharged.

•

I helped him walk out to my car. Once we got in and I started driving, he put his hand on my thigh. I smiled as I drove us back to his apartment. Once I pulled into his driveway, I got out and helped him get out. We walked into his apartment, and the moment his door was shut, his lips were on mine.

Anakin moved his lips from mine down to my jaw and neck. I let out small moans of pleasure. He moved his hands down and grabbed the hem of my shirt. I raised my arms so he could remove it. Once my shirt was off, we walked into his room. When we got into his room, he began to remove everything except for his boxers. I removed everything but my bra and thong.

“Should we be doing this? You just had surgery 5 days ago” I reminded him.

“Baby, I need exercise to strengthen my heart again. That shard of glass really fucked it up. And what better way to get it working than to do this?” He smirked while he explained. I chose to just nod.

He walked closer to me and caressed every inch of me. He brought his hands around my back and unclipped my bra. I let it slide down my arms as he admired my bare chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” he grabbed my breasts and began to place kisses on my neck. He pushed me onto his bed and got on top of me. He brought his hands down and removed underwear in one go. I smirked and took my hand and placed it over his boxers, rubbing the impressive bulge. He let out a whimper, which drove me crazy. I pulled down his boxers and widened my eyes. He was huge.

Anakin took his fingers and began to rub my clit. I moaned and threw my head into the pillow. He leaned forward and placed my breast into his mouth.

“That feels so good Ani” I moaned. He began to move his fingers faster around my clit, causing me to squirm. It didn’t take long until he removed his mouth from my nipple and moved his body down.

He spread my legs open, and I felt him sucking on my clit. The feeling was phenomenal. He then started lapping at my pussy like he would die without it. He then took his middle finger and ring finger and began fingering me.

“Oh my god, Anakin. I’m gonna-” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. He let out a dark chuckle before he moved his body up.

I felt the tip of his dick at my entrance. He looked at me and smirked.

“Are you ready baby?” I looked at him and nodded. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, yes I’m ready.” With that, I felt him push his length in me slowly. I threw my head back and moaned loudly. Once I adjusted to his length, he began to thrust into me at a decent pace. He leaned his head down and kissed me deeply while bringing a hand down to rub my clit.

“Ani, go faster” I begged. He began to go faster and felt the knot in my stomach begin to unravel. I let out louder moans until they became incoherent babbles.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around my cock.” Anakin let out the most glorious whimper I’d ever heard. That was enough to send me into orbit.

“I’m so close” I told him, and he began to thrust faster.

“Fuck baby, me too.” He whined. He kept thrusting faster until I felt my orgasm coming.

“Ani, I’m gonna come.” I moaned. He looked into my eyes and smiled.

“Come with me baby” and with those words I felt my orgasm take over my body as his thrusts began to slow down as he came in me.

“Fuck, y/n” He panted as he pulled out. He bent down and pushed his cum back into my leaking hole, eliciting a moan from my lips.

He got off of me and laid beside me. He then pulled me close to him, so my head was on his chest.

“You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that for.” He confessed and I smiled as I began to trace circles on his chest with my finger.

“Me too” I replied. He leaned his head down and kissed the top of my head.

“I love you, y/n. So much.” He said softly as his hand ran up and down my back.

“I love you too Anakin.” I replied. We laid there, talking. At one point he brought the blanket over us. After a bit, we started to get tired, and it didn’t take long before I fell asleep in his arms. Where I belonged.

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #smut #modern au #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ izzy’s fics

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butchtheworld · 11 months ago

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crip tips

i'm an experienced disabled person (EDS, CFS, POTS, chronic pain). here are some of the things that help me get by as a college student (note: i use a wheelchair and a cane most days. i also am fortunate enough to have decent medical care, meds, and my aforementioned mobility aids)

shower chair. i can't stand for long enough to shower, and especially not if it's a hot shower. i got a cheap one off of amazon that has three legs and a plastic seat. that plastic seat makes it super easy to keep clean. i know there's a weird sort of embarrassment about sitting in the shower, but PLEASE, it is so much better than sitting on the floor in the shower or falling. in my dorms, there are two (2) showers with fold-down seats. i put a small towel down on the seat so i'm not bare-ass on this dorm bathroom surface, then i wash it down after.

normal wheelchair gloves are fingerless, which suck for winter. BUT, winter cycling gloves have the same cushioning on the palms and grip material and fingers. they're not super warm, but throw on a pair of thin gloves underneath (or, if you're like me, propelling keeps your hands super hot anyways).

an ice pack on the back of your neck can help with migraines and dizziness. i keep a small one in my freezer at all times. i tuck it into a hairband so it can be hands-free.

PLEASE adjust your cane/crutch/crutches to the right height. it helps so much with shoulder/elbow pain and balance. if it doesn't feel right, it probably isn't. the handle of my cane hits around the height of my wrist if my arm is just hanging down.

if you have hyper mobility, try high-rise shoes. i wear only high-rise converse and doc martens, which i can lace tightly around my ankles to keep them from rolling or sliding out of place.

(MENTIONS FOOD AND CALORIES) keep an easy, high-in-calorie food around. for me, eating on high pain days is essentially impossible. so, i need something that i can get myself to eat (like ice cream or canned soup or chips) that won't take any effort. ice cream is a great one for me, since it's sweet and cold and dense. even if it's not healthy, nothing is more unhealthy than not eating.

please, please, please find a community of disabled people. most of my close friends are able-bodied and, as much as i love them, they just can't understand it like other disabled people do. i found two great communities on my college campus, but i've also heard that support groups are a great way to meet people within the community

if you have any other tips, reblog with them. i remember the beginning days of my illness and how daunting all of this was. this is how we support our community.

#crip punk #crip theory #disabled #disability #chronic illness #chronic pain #ehlers danlos syndrome #chronic fatigue #disability tips

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roturo · 1 year ago

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CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader. (part 2)

①PART TWO: DO NOT TOUCH, PERFECT WORLD, CANDY.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering. PART 1. words: 4k+

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, marking, fingering (f receiving) & oral (m receiving) , mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, handcuffs, degradation kink, cock warming, nipple pinching, slapping, spitting, jealousy, cum eating, almost caught, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, cunnilingus, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

After all, Donna is a friend and you have to be loyal. She’s done nothing wrong, like others…

Time hasn’t been the best, but it's making progress. People guess things have been complicated, thanks to… well, the incident of some days ago. They didn’t know the whole story though.

After leaving Dick in his room alone, you proceed to go and call Harley to tell her all. You weren’t as excited as her, some part of you felt… bad? Watching him everyday now, felt like the past but in a bad way. Your heart wasn’t ready to deal with this.

You enjoyed the moment, but that’s all.

You need to prepare your heart for the following days. But it was becoming too much. Is that how he felt? If what he told you was true…

Even though he hasn’t shown any kind of anger towards you, it made you even more confused than before. Did this not affect him?

Who would’ve imagined this bitter ending. You felt good, like you let out a part of you. It’s like you gave your back to the titans again.

And the worst thing after him being unbothered with this whole ordeal it’s like he got closer with Kory. Something about their relationship seemed SO suspicious that it made you even madder. You’re pretty sure they’ve definitely slept together.

None of your intentions of being ‘annoying’ towards Dick made any progress, but oh how naive you are.

To say he’s not mad at you isn’t completely true. He is, but he’s more heart-broken than anything else. Is this how you felt? Everything seemed different for him; a whole new sky, a whole new view, a whole new you.

He used to think there was hope in the future without you, but oh how wrong was he. He forgot that shine you brought him everyday, your beautiful smile when you woke up in his arms. He needed that again.

He tried to make you think he was unbothered with this, he didn’t need to show you his hurt side again. He had to be strong until the time was ready to touch you again. Right now he had to watch you, watch you take care of Conner, being in the tower with him.

And he never failed to notice how your brows slightly furrowed every time you saw him with Kory. So he started doing it more times, just to keep that hope up you still love him and miss him just like he does.

But he needed to show and prove he won’t hurt you again, that he’s not that man that left you. It’s like you wanted to keep him away with your wholehearted rejection, but somehow he’s always a step behind from telling you ‘I love you’.

One night, you decided to take a break from being a ‘fake titan’ and decided to distract yourself by going out with Harley and maybe cause some problem. How could you think you wouldn’t cause any problem when Harley Quinn is by your side?

Running away from the siren police after robbing a luxury store, Harley by your side, you knew this wasn’t to be easy. Running into an empty dark alley, it was a crowded night, and crimes were easily found this night. So it’s impossible for you two not to find a fucking hero.

And by a fucking hero, I mean fucking nightwing.

Great.

‘Oh, what do we have here? The mysterious friend Harley is always with. Where’s your partner huh?’

You looked at your left where Harley was supposed to be, looking confused back at Nightwing. ‘Oh right, don’t worry, one of my friends is dealing with her.’ He stepped closer at you, examining your costume, mask, if you're armed. ‘Now… Who are you?’

‘It’s none of your business.’ You tried to act rough but it sounded more of a mumble, knowing you were about to fight with fucking Nightwing. Fucking Dick Grayson.

‘Is that so?… What's so special about you that you don’t get caught as easily as Harley?’

Uh well, maybe she’s over-confident and clumsier? But she always knows the Joker is going to save her, so that’s why you don’t get scared for her safety. It’s kinda obvious…

‘Stop with the shitty chat, are we going to fight or not?’

‘I think you deserve another kind of punishment, is that so… Y/N?’

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

You felt your blood run cold at the words that left out Dick’s mouth, trying to regain your composure you coughed a little, ‘What are you talking about? Who is she huh? Our dear nightwing finally got a girlfriend?’

He let out an audibly laugh coming out from his chest, ‘Quit the act. We discovered your fantastic note Harley let you with the underwear, a nice pair by the way, would look good in your body. I have to admit she has a nice taste.’

He stepped even closer to you, ‘Oh, and what about your little call with her? Talking about Ivy and the fucking sex pollen? Thank God Kory was there to notice something was going on and told me to check the cameras.’

The fucking cameras. Shit. How could you be so fucking stupid? Of course he would have cameras everywhere. ‘My question is, why do you keep helping us? What 's your plan?’

‘If I tell you my plan, what are you going to do about it?’

He made a mocking gesture of him thinking for a second before sighing, ‘Depends on how bad it is.’

Fuck it. You already did it, and you’re sure you could get some hits right now. ‘My plan was for you to fucking cry for me.’

You could swear you noticed his face breaking a little before smirking again, he chuckled at you, what’s so funny?, ‘Oh…’ He stepped even closer to you, centimeters away from finally being completely close enough, ‘That’s the thing? That’s why you said those things?’ You slightly nodded, his presence becoming too much for you, looking at the floor you mumbled a little yes. ‘Mmm, let me think about how hard your punishment should be.’

Without a second to react, your body was caged between his arms and the wall. Taking the air out of you, looking up at him with an angry face he looked happy. ‘Quit the fucking act Dick, just hit me or something.’

‘You think i’m going to be that nice to you? I’ll just return the favor.’ Your face changed into confusion, his lips almost touching yours. You could feel his breath. ‘W-what do you mean?’ His lips locked with yous, catching you by surprise

His thumb digs into your cheeks and the other four fingers grip your face as he opens your mouth with pressure, tongue jutting out slightly. Dick sniggers, You might as well be begging to get fucked right now.’ Your eyes glisten, thighs and core clenching. Dick spits into your mouth and you swallow immediately. He laughs. Ah, you slutty whore. That’s what you wanted?’

You tried to move but your body wouldn’t listen, secretly you know you miss him too, as much as he does, but you couldn’t let yourself break that easily, ‘I’m not the one who was horny for almost a week, dumbass.’

‘And whose fault is that mhm?’ With no time for reaction he made you kneel down, falling with a small ‘tmmph’ ‘It’s my turn to have fun while watching you cry, don’t you think? This may also be a punishment for the crime you just did.’ His head slightly turned to the right, looking if someone else was in this dark alley, but everyone seemed as busy as the two of you, focusing on their own thing. The siren alarms quieting down all the chat the both of you have.

‘Ah, the siren alarms, I don’t see anything you stole, was this all Harley’s plan?’ You tried to answer and tell him to fuck off, but you heard him unzipping his suit, your mind fighting with your body to move away from him, but oh shit. You won’t lie you’ve been fingering yourself these last days in the shower thinking of his cock. Half of his body suit rested on his hips, showing his chest, some hickeys still a little bit visible on his chest, the same as red marks of your nails digging on him. ‘You like what you see? Makes me remember the day I fucking had you in my hands again. And ever since I got a taste of you again, you don’t know how stupid I felt to leave you.’

Your doe eyes looked at him, searching for any kind of lie, but all you could see was lust and sincere feelings for you. ‘Ah, but here’s the thing, you can’t touch me. Maybe you’ll miss my touch as much as I do for yours.’ Everything was happening so fast you didn’t realize him kneeling down and handcuffing your hands before he stood up again. ‘That's better.’ His hand caressed your cheek before the nice and warm touch turned into a slap.

‘I shouldn’t treat you like the love of my life, right? You just committed a crime, baby, you need to be punished by your actions.’ He didn’t seem angry, he seemed full of lust and excited to have you again.

‘Oh, but this doesn’t mean we’re okay, we still need to talk it out. Right now it’s Nightwing giving his favorite criminal a punishment.’ You looked down at his crotch, a visible bulge had you closing your legs trying to get some friction out of it. He slowly made his suit get lower so his cock could finally be free, sprinting up so it touched his stomach, a pearl of cum coming out of it, sliding down until his base.

‘Open up and say ah…’ You did as he said, feeling completely defenseless and not in control like the other time, knowing you fell for him and his tactic again. He grabbed you by your hair and then he inserted his cock inside of you, winning a groan out of his mouth before he started thrusting in and out. Your mouth couldn’t get all of it, but you couldn’t use your hands to satisfy the missing parts of his cock, he wouldn’t let you. You tried moving your hands, which made his movements stop, staying inside of you. ‘Ah-ah, do not touch, If you still love me, you know you have to watch first and maybe I'll let you.’

You stopped fighting for his touch and gave into him, he moaned when you relaxed your throat and took him all in. He wouldn’t give you a break and thrust shamelessly into you, making you leave choked moans out of you, tears forming around your eyes making your vision blurry. ‘That’s it, you fucking criminal whore. These are the punishments you want right?’

You tried nodding, but he only chuckled at your try. He thrusted some times more before he finally came in your mouth with a moan that sounded almost like a whimper. Like the old times you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, ‘Good girl.’ Then you swallowed.

‘I’ll see you at the tower.’ He started getting his suit on again, and with just a wink he left.

How the fuck are you supposed to get off this handcuffs?

When you came back to the tower with a sore throat and normal clothes, as soon as you entered the tower you saw Kory waiting for you in her cocky posture and a smirk adorning her face. ‘How was your night sneaky friend?’

You rolled your eyes trying to ignore her, hopefully she’s the only one who knows besides Dick, but she wouldn’t let you go so easily, so she grabbed you by the wrist stopping you from leaving. ‘Fuck off Kory.’

‘I’m not the one betraying everyone here dumbass.’

‘Go and fuck Dick or something,' Ironic isn't it?, since you're the one fucking him. 'don’t you want that? Maybe he could take this anger out of you and leave me the fuck alone.’

‘I don’t want to fuck him, i’m trying to keep my friends safe.’

‘Safe by being with them like a fucking tick? As if.’ You said those words with venom coming out of your mouth, never breaking eye contact with her.

‘That’s how things are going to be huh? Jealous, I'm spending more time with your ex than you?’ You felt your wrist getting warmer, trying to get off you whining at the hot sensation of her using her powers. ‘Let go Kory.’

‘Or what? You’re going to whine about this to your little friend Joker?’

‘Might as well ask him to fucking kill you.’ You said, kicking her on the stomach so she could let go, looking at your arm you could see a small burn, nothing too serious.

You hissed, touching the affected area, looking back at Kory, who stood there with a confused face, looking back, you saw Dick standing there, a black t-shirt hugging his chest and biceps just right, and some gray sweatpants.

‘What the fuck Dick? Isn’t she supposed to be beaten out or something? She’s a fucking villian!’

You smirked at her assumption, side-eyeing her back and then looking back at Dick. ‘Let’s say she’s a good fighter…’ He shrugged it off while getting closer to the both of you, looking at your injured arm, he looked back at Kory. ‘Let’s get you healed up.’ Dick grabbed you by the hand leading you to the nursery.

‘Are you being for real Dick? You’re still letting her in the house after knowing who she truly is?’ Her voice seemed more distant every step you took, you were getting giddy with all that was happening that you didn’t even realize you were sitting on a chair, Dick kneeled down looking for some medicines. Your arm already bandaged.

'...'

‘So… How did you become a villain?’ He asked, testing the waters. ‘I dunno, guess it just happened with no explanations.’ He took the hint at what you were referring to, deciding to just sigh. ‘I was stupid okay? Not being Robin gave me a kind of breakdown trying to decipher who I was, I fucked up. I dissolved the titans because of that, and the worst thing of all is that I lost you.’ You thought there was a nice future without him, not letting him crumble your world, but hearing his breaking voice while telling you this, made you rethink everything.

Dick isn’t good at expressing his emotions, so him trying really meant he was serious with this, ‘I couldn’t imagine myself with other girls, because the fantasy of you shatters my heart, I’ll always be by your side, I promise, please forgive me.’

You shakily sighed at his confession, remembering the first time he told you ‘I love you’ you had your emotions just in control before all of this, but now you realize the both of you are below the same sky and you couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around him again. All you could hear in the room were sobs coming out of the both of you. Old lovers reuniting again, but the tension in the air was still visible, not forgetting what happened earlier this night.

‘Can I keep being a villain so you could just fuck me everytime I commit a crime?’ He chuckled at this, making him stop crying, and looking at you, ‘Maybe I should lock you up, and give those punishments for free, I don’t need you causing problems out there.’

You made a gesture like you were thinking about it, ‘Mmh, that doesn’t sound too bad, but I’ll miss Harley so that’s a no.’ He rolled his eyes, ‘I can lock her up too.’ he said, grabbing both of your hands. ‘And punish her too? I don’t think the Joker nor me would be happy with that.’

He laughed, how much you missed his laugh. ‘Obviously no. She would be locked up serving her sentence or something.’ The both of you looked at eachother, missing the comfortable silence, until a question came to mind. ‘And Kory?’

‘What about her?’

‘She’ll tell everyone.’

A small oh left his lips, looking at the floor then bringing his eyes back to yours. ‘I’ll talk with her.'

'...'

'....'

‘Do you… uh… like her?’

‘Would I be here waiting for you to give me a chance to kiss you again if I liked her?’ Unable to control yourself, you crashed your lips onto his, and he responded immediately. He grabbed you by your legs, immediately wrapping them around his waist, he somehow opened up the door and led the both of you to his room. Lips never breaking apart.

Without breaking the kiss, you pushed him onto his back, laying flat on the bed and straddling his lap. Dick smirked at your actions and you leaned down, reconnecting your lips. You involuntarily grinded onto his growing bulge, causing him to groan in pleasure. You could feel your panties sticking to your wet folds while you moved on him. Without breaking the heated kiss, Dick sat up, pulling you along with him, so that his back was resting against the headboard of your bed and you were still straddling him. He broke the kiss to trail open mouth kisses along your neck, making you tilt your head to give him more access.

‘Can I touch you?’ he mumbled against your skin, giving it a little nibble.

‘Yes, please…’

Dick’s hands moved up your body to your breasts. He gently massaged your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He flicked it with his tongue, giving it a little swirl before repeating the same action for the other one.

‘You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do this to you again,’ he said, lips meeting yours in a quick kiss before he changed positions, hovering above you. ‘Every time the both of us were alone, I had to control myself so much from wanting to kiss you… to touch you…’ his hand moved down to your thighs, giving it a squeeze before he teased your inner thighs. He slowly moved his hand to cup your clothed heat, making you whimper.

‘‘Fuck, please touch me,’ you begged.

Dick slowly took your panties off, mouth watering at the sight of your glistening core. His fingers moved to your clit, gently stroking your sensitive nub. You grabbed his hand once your clit became too over sensitive again, stopping him from touching you.

“I… it’s very sensitive from what we did earlier before…’ Dick kissed your neck while his fingers explored the area around your entrance, avoiding your sensitive clit; he didn’t want to just shove his fingers up immediately. ‘Just relax, baby,’ he murmured against your skin, and your tense body relaxed a bit. He ran his finger along your wet folds, collecting your juices. He took his time, teasing you around that area, trying to get you wetter.

When you felt wetter, he moved his body to rest in between your legs. He slowly slipped a finger into your hole. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked. You shook your head and he continued pushing his finger all the way in. You winced at the slight sting you felt when he pulled his finger back a little. ‘Are you okay? Does it hurt, baby?’

‘No, it feels so good.’ you said, your hands moving to his messy black hair.

He tapped around your walls, searching for your g-spot. You sucked in a breath when he found your spot, clutching a fistful of his hair. “Found it,” he smirked, continuing to finger you, making sure to hit that very spot. ‘D-Dick…’ you moaned, your walls clenching around his finger. He kissed and gently sucked on the skin of your inner thighs while he fingered you. You could feel something building up in your lower stomach, and you assumed you were close to orgasming. ‘Dick… I think I’m-’

‘Let it go,’ he pumped his fingers faster, making your back arch. ‘Cum for me, baby.’ His words and a few more pumps was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you, making you loudly moan his name. He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your taste. ‘So fucking sweet. I fucking missed you.’

He leaned down for a kiss, which you gratefully accepted, taking off his shirt and pants, his cock was as hard as before, searching for attention. He then inserted his cock, pushing through your gummy walls, making you moan at the feeling. He slowly started thrusting, making sure to keep the stimulation from your previous orgasm, the both of you were so focused on the other that you didn’t hear the knocks on the door until the second time.

‘Dick! Are you there?’ Fuck. It was Kory. ‘The door is locked.’ The both of you heard another voice, it sounded a lot like Rachel’s. ‘Dick! We can’t find Y/N’ Shit. Gar is also there?

‘We need to find her before she causes something big.’ Rachel said, knocking on his door again. The both of you looked at eachother with wide eyes, before he shut you up with his hand on your mouth, keeping you from making any sound, but he continued thrusting, finding a rhythms which touched your g-spot just perfectly. You moaned, earning a look from him, ‘Uh- I haven’t seen her anywhere.’

‘C’mon Dick, you took her to the nursery.’ Kory said from the other side of the door, ‘But- I ha- ah! haven-t seen her since..’ You clenched his cock, catching him by surprise, making his voice break and whimper, his hand reaching your nipple pinching on it, giving him an angry look, you clenched your hole earning a moan out of him, making you giggle. ‘Are you okay Dick?’ Gar asked.

‘U-uh, yeah, just putting on my suit for, mmh~ go and search for her, y’all should do the same.’ You couldn’t quite hear the voices coming from the other side, too giddy feeling the way Dick’s cock moves inside of you.

‘Okay… we’ll see you in 10.’ That was the last thing the both of you heard, before making sure they left.

‘You heard that princess? We only have 10 minutes before we go searching for you. Guess I couldn’t- Ah!’ A specific thrust made the both of you feel an electric shock, ‘I couldn’t stop Kory from telling the other, ha…’

He started thrusting harder and faster this time, knowing he was searching for his high, you were quite close to it. His hand traveled down your body until it found your clit and started rubbing it. Making you almost scream if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth. Not even 30 seconds passed and you saw stars, your vision becoming white thanks to the overstimulation and him not stopping so you could take a break from your high. Actually motivating him to thrust faster to search for his.

Tears formed again into your eyes, staining your cheeks, his other arm over your head holding himself up while he thrusts into you. He leaned down and licked the tears out your face, before uncovering your mouth, taking a big breath before breaking down into a moaning mess, he thrusted into you harder, cock deep down inside of you, shaking while stripes of cum filled you up.

All you could hear were whimpers coming out of him, until he finally calmed down and tools his cock out, making the both of you hiss at the feeling. He laid down beside you, audibly breaths coming out of the both of you, looking up at the roof.

He grabbed down the blankets and covered the both of you, him being the big spoon and you the small one.

‘What about the others?’

‘If we don’t answer they’ll think I went alone and also go search for me’ He chuckled, hugging you even closer. ‘Here I am right now, and tomorrow when you wake up. By your side. I’m sure we’ll find an agreement with the others, since you didn’t commit the crimes like that, just an accomplice, maybe you could become a hero again.’

You scoffed at that, ‘We’ll see about that Dickie.’

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a-student-out-of-time · 10 days ago

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An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

#mod talks #a student out of time #real talk #real life stuff #cw: current events #cw: the election

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month ago

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Love That Burns ~ 8

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,416ish

Summary: You get brought to a school and meet new mutants.

Warnings: sadness, time skips

Notes: Hopefully this chapter makes sense and isn't complete trash. And don't worry! Our lovebirds will see each other again soon! But that doesn't mean there's fluff coming... Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You didn’t expect to be brought to a mansion—a school when you got in the jet. You had stayed silent and stared out one of the windows the entirety of the flight. Charles explained where you were headed: Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He ran the school for mutants to get educated and learn to handle their mutations. You would have loved the idea more if you weren’t dying inside. The kids were all escorted to a lab to get checked out while you stayed seated on the jet. Charles stayed with you.

“I can help you,” he said.

“Stay out of my head,” you grumbled.

“I am truly sorry for what I had to do before.” He wheeled closer. “You’re safe now.”

“I don’t care!” You finally looked at the man, not caring if he saw you crying. “Nothing matters anymore… Nothing…”

“You’ve been through a lot. You need rest and to get that bullet out of your shoulder.”

You shook your head. “I need James… I don’t care about anything else… I just need him.” You stood up. “I have to go back.”

“It’s too late. The military has already arrived.”

“I can’t— I can’t—“ You broke into sobs as you collapsed on your knees.

You never even noticed that a young girl had entered the jet. She walked over to you and knelt in front of you. Clearly feeling brave, the girl reached out and took your hand.

“Jean,” Charles called, “what are you doing?”

“Her thoughts are loud,” the girl, Jean, admitted.

You tried to weakly tug your hand away, but the girl held strong. You looked at her, confused, before you began to feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you were passed out on the floor of the jet.

“Jean, you shouldn’t have done that,” Charles admonished.

“I had to,” Jean argued. “Her pain was everywhere. She needs rest.”

Charles sighed. “And you did well. Go get Hank so that we can get our new friend here to a bed.”

~~~

Glancing around the room, you put together that you had been moved to the lab or med area of some sort. There was a large, blue… beast? The beast was facing away from you, looking at some screen. You cleared your throat as you sat up. The beast turned around.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, coming towards you. “You’ve been asleep for a few days. We were worried there for a second.”

“Where am I?” You asked, still nervous about your surroundings.

“At Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

“This doesn’t look like a school.”

“This is our underground facility, used for training mostly.”

You nodded. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hank McCoy.”

“Y/N L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the table. “Am I good to leave?”

“This room or the school?”

“Both.”

Hank sighed, almost like he knew you were going to say that. “You should talk to Charles before you leave. I’ll take you to him.”

You slipped off the metal table and followed Hank out into the hallway. It was silver metal, like the room you were just in, and long with various large circular doors with ‘X’s on them. Hank led you to an elevator, letting you enter first before he pressed the button to go up.

When the elevator reopened, you were a bit taken back. It was like you were transported to a completely different place. The place was grand and spacious, featuring intricate woodwork and paintings on the walls. It was almost like a museum. There were children of various ages rushing about—students of the school. You kept looking around as Hank led you to a quaint office down the hall from the elevator. Charles Xavier was already facing the door, waiting for you.

“Thank you, Hank,” Charles said. “You may leave us.”

Hank gave the other man a nod before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Charles gave you a light smile as he motioned over to a leather chair.

“Please, have a seat.”

“I’m good,” you said, your words baring no emotion.

“Very well. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Charles sighed. “I am not the enemy, Y/N. I am sorry for taking away your free will, but it was for your safety.”

“My safety doesn’t matter anymore… James is dead.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

“When can I leave?”

“Whenever you’d like. But I do hope you’d stay a while, give this place a chance. We could use another teacher.”

Your heart suddenly sunk when it finally hit you that your students didn’t know what had happened. They were probably devastated. You finally took a seat before your knees could give out.

“I believe that we could use you here, Y/N,” Charles continued. “You’d be a great teacher. A teacher to mutants like you. You could be the good influence that you didn’t have.”

You shook your head, tearing up. “I can’t… I don’t know how… not without James.”

“It will be hard. But here, you could gain a family. Friends who are like you. A job and even, a mission.”

“I… I can’t stay.”

“It’s your choice. But please do stay for a few days, just to get some rest and figure out what you would like to do. I can show you to a room that you can use as long as you need.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “This place will always welcome you, no matter what you choose.”

~~~

You were given your own room near the other teachers. You told Charles that you would stay for a few days to get a plan together and then leave. But now it had been over a week. You couldn’t get yourself to leave, but you also weren’t interacting with anyone. You kept to yourself whether that was in your room or roaming through the gardens. You could feel the eyes of everyone at the school on you, wondering who you were and what you were doing there, but you didn’t care. The gardens were big enough that you often found new areas to hide in every day. You would find a spot and cry, wishing that you could somehow make things right again. That James could be by your side.

It had been a while since you had any nightmares, now they were every time you closed your eyes. You had set your room on fire a few times, with Charles and Hank telling you that it was alright, but it didn’t matter. You avoided sleep now. You couldn’t risk burning the place down though you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave. There was something about this place that wouldn’t let you go. Something telling you that you were meant to stay.

You were in the gardens one day when it got really bad. You were absentmindedly walking around when your right hand gripped at your left. You stumbled to a stop as you looked down at your hand. Your ring. You didn’t have your ring. A sob tore through you before you could do anything about it and you were quickly brought to your knees. Your chest was tightening, causing you to struggle for breath.

You didn’t register the quick footsteps behind you. Or the three students that knelt in front of you.

“We have to help her,” one of them said. He had sunglasses over his eyes, trying to manage the lasers that could shoot from them. “Ororo?”

“Don’t look at me,” Ororo responded.

“I can help her,” the red-headed, Jean, offered. “I’ve done it before.”

Jean’s hand reached out and gripped your shoulder. Within a few moments, you were completely passed out on the ground.

“Grab her, Scott,” Jean told the boy.

Scott picked you up and carried you inside. Charles was already there waiting, sensing what had happened. He instructed the kids to take you to your room and then he’d keep an eye out on you. So that’s were you woke, in your new bed. Charles was reading a book next to the bed, using the lamp on the bedside table to give off some light.

“How did I get here?” You asked.

Charles set the book down on his lap and gave you a tight smile. “Scott Summers, one of the kids that you rescued. He and two others found you. I had them bring you here.”

You nodded as you sat up, leaning against the headboard. “I’m so lost.”

“I know.”

“I think… I think I’m going to stay. At least for a little while. Until I find myself again.”

“We would be honored to have you.”

“And I can teach?”

“Of course.”

~~~

Charles had you set up in a classroom the next day and a few days later, you were teaching the English Literature class. Jean, Scott, and Ororo were three of your students, each in different classes. Slowly, you began to connect more with each of them. You would help them with various homework assignments after classes and soon began watching their training sessions, giving them tips on how to control their powers.

“Scott, it starts with confidence,” you told him from the side of the Danger Room, located in the basement of the mansion. “If you don’t believe you can control it, them you won’t be able to.”

Charles watched the training session from the sidelines, interested in how quickly you ended up helping these kids. You watched as Scott shot his lasers everywhere, quickly losing control. You ducked before you got hit. Scott grunted in annoyance as he slipped his new visors on that Hank had made him.

“I’m done for the day,” Scott grumbled, stomping out of the room.

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to standing.

“You’ve seemed to grow fond of Scott, Jean, and Ororo,” Charles stated as he rolled toward you.

“They need some help,” you said. “I can provide that.”

“And you’re doing it very well.” He looked around the Danger Room. “When was the last time you let your powers unleashed?” You clenched your jaw, thinking back to the day you lost James. “You should take some time to work on your own abilities.”

“I don’t have any reason to.”

“And if I gave you a reason?” You eyed Charles curiously. “This underground facility is also known as the headquarters for the X-Men.”

“X-Men?”

“A team of mutant heroes that help were needed. As of right now, we don’t have a team. You could train some students, put a team together.”

“You trust me to do this?”

“Y/N, I have seen your past. This is your chance to put together a team who could actually make a difference.”

You gave it a brief thought, knowing that Charles had a point. “Okay. I’m in.”

~~~

You began training the students interested in joining the team and those with abilities that could help the team. That meant that you had long days, but you didn’t mind. The longer the days, the less time you slept, which also meant less nightmares. You began to use your abilities more and more, working to strengthen them using the Danger Room in ways that you hadn’t before. It was freeing, your alone time in the Danger Room.

A few years past and the students were older, officially ready to be part of a team. To them, that meant that they needed superhero nicknames.

“What about Cyclops?” Jean suggested for Scott.

“Cyclops isn’t terrible,” Ororo agreed.

“I honestly don’t care,” Scott said.

“Cyclops it is then,” Jean said with a smile. “Ororo is obviously Storm.”

“I love it!” Ororo exclaimed with a clap. “And you’re Phoenix, Jean.”

“Phoenix… I like it.” The three turned to you, who had remained silent, working on new suit designs. “And for Y/N… I think… Ember.”

“Ember?” You repeated.

“I think it works great!” Ororo said.

You sighed. “Whatever you kids say.”

“Ember it is then!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys need a life.”

“We have one. We’re X-Men!”

“Or X-Women,” suggested Jean.

“That doesn’t roll off the tongue nicely.”

“If you three could stop talking about names and start helping me with these sketches, that would be nice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scott replied with a mock salute.

With a mere thought of yours, flames appeared on the jeans Scott was wearing. He screamed, running around, while the other three of you laughed. You put out the flames before any real damage could be done, revealing that the flames had destroyed Scott’s jeans and underwear, leaving his butt hanging out. You, Jean, and Ororo only laughed harder as Scott tried to cover his butt with his hands and ran off.

~~~

You woke up feeling off and looking at the date only made it worse. It was the tenth anniversary of James’ death. Thankfully, you didn’t need to teach today. So you were slow to get up and ready before heading out to the gardens, to try and spend the day alone. Your hand stayed clasped around your dog tags as you wandered the gardens aimlessly. You could feel eyes watching you from the mansion and knew that Charles, Hank, Ororo, Jean, and Scott were worried.

It was around dinner time when Charles decided to go to you. You were standing near the pond, staring out like you weren’t even there. Charles sat next to you, staring out for a moment before clearing his throat.

“I know today is hard for you,” he said. “But there are some bright sides to it… Ten years ago, you were brought here. Scott was brought here. You’ve become a teacher and a leader to many mutants.”

“I miss him,” you rasped, voice cracking. “I miss him every day, but…”

“Today is worse. I have days like that too. Days were I miss those that I used to know.”

“Like Erik and Raven?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“I know you mean well, Charles, but Erik and Raven aren’t dead. You’re just on different sides of the fight. James… James is dead and part of me died with him.”

“Yes, but a new part of you was born.” When you didn’t respond, Charles sighed. “At least eat something. We can’t have you leaving us too soon.”

Charles rolled away, leaving you alone once again.

“I love you, James,” you closed your eyes and whispered, praying that somehow he could hear you. “I will always love you.”

next chapter >

#logan howlet x reader #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x mutant reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x female!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine fanfiction #the wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #the wolverine x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic

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monzabee · 1 year ago

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lean on you – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you learn to lean on Charles more than you thought you ever could.

Pairing: charles leclerc x medstudent!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: it’s been a while since i went to an actual hospital, so that, and also worried charles, mentions of sickness and vomiting, also mentions of food poisoning

Request: “Hiiii! I don’t know if you still accept request😅 but I have something in my mind if you are open to it, like the reader is quite sick before Charles’ race, he wanted to stay to take care of her but she insisted that he go on with the race and that she’ll be fine. But during the race, Charles’ got a call that she have been taken to the hospital by Lorenzo since she almost passed out. Charles went straight to the hospital and bit mad and angry at her being so stubborn. I just think Charles can be over protective and can be so upset or angry when he get very worried. Like how Charles will emphasise that she have him instead of being so independent all the time. 🤍🤍🤍 thank you if you will do it, but if not, it’s alright too! I just love and enjoy reading all your works!🤩 ”+ “Can you write a fic where the reader is a med!student with Charles? (definitely not projecting🫣)”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i loved both of these concepts and i though they’d go well together, because most of my friends who are also med students love diagnosing themselves?? i kind of wanted to based the reader off of bow from black-ish if you guys ever watched it, it’s my current watch and i love her so much!! it was very fun for me to write, and thank you to both of the anons for their requests! Feedback is always appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

“Are you sure you’re fine, mignon? You look worse than you did last night.” Charles lets his eyes look over your fatigued figure in your bed, worry etched into his eyebrows.

Giving him a weak smile, you do your best to reassure his worries by reaching for his hand resting on the side of his body. “I’m fine, love, I feel better than I did yesterday.” Charles sighs softly, his worry not entirely dissipating. He moves closer to the bed, his hand tightening around yours, and you squeeze his hand gently, relaying the message that you appreciate his concern. “I really am, you don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

“You say as if that’s an easy thing, love.” He emphasises, giving you a small smile that still allows you to see the dimples on his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you alone, you seem worse than you did last night.”

Your expression softens as you recall the way he doted on you the previous evening, no matter how much you told him that you were doing fine. “I promise I’m feeling much better, it’s nothing but a stomach bug – and I promise I’ll rest today, too.”

Charles leans down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You better keep that promise and rest, it’s doctor’s orders," he says with a hint of playfulness in his voice. "I'll hold you to it.”

You chuckle weakly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I promise, Charles. I'll stay in bed, take my medicine, and rest. I have some lecture stuff I have to go over, anyway." You pause, looking up at him with sincere eyes. "And you need to focus on your race. I don't want you to worry about me, be careful out there please.”

His lips form a mock pout, making your facial muscles to pull in an involuntary smile, “But my favourite part is the part where my doctor takes care of me,” his thumb draws a comforting circle on your hand, “your kisses help immensely.”

You blush at his playful comment, grateful for his affectionate nature even in times of worry. “I promise I’ll give you kisses when you come back, but only if you promise you’ll be careful.” You sigh deeply at the boyish grin he sends your way, “I’m serious, Charles.”

Charles's expression softens, and he reaches out to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm. "I promise, my love. I'll be careful. Do you need me to bring you anything before I leave?”

Your nod is sluggish and doesn’t go unnoticed by Charles, but he chooses to remain silent as he gives you a moment to think about your answer. “Can you just give me my computer and anatomy book, please?” You watch as Charles nods in understanding. He leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips before making his way to the desk where your belongings are kept. Retrieving the items you requested, he returns to your bedside, placing them gently on the bed beside you.

"Here you go, mignon," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. He notices the way you keep fiddling with the collar of his your sweatshirt – a habit you usually display when you’re sick because the clothing usually causes overstimulation in your mind. “Do you want me to bring you some water? Or maybe order room service?”

You shake your head to the either side this time, giving him a sleepy smile as you start talking, “I’m good, but thank you, darling.” You let out a small giggle at the unapproving glance he sends your way, “I promise I’ll order some food when I get hungry, Charles.”

Charles chuckles softly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern at the way you emphasise the word. "Alright, love. Just make sure you take care of yourself and eat something nutritious. I don't want you skipping meals, even if you're not feeling well."

You nod, appreciating his reminder. "I promise, Charles. I'll make sure to eat when I need to. But for now, I think I'll focus on studying and getting some rest."

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "That sounds like a good plan. I'll leave you to it then, but remember to reach out if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," you reply softly, your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. "Thank you for taking care of me, Charles. I love you."

He smiles warmly, his eyes filled with affection. "I love you too, mignon. Rest well and take all the time you need. I'll see you soon." With that, Charles gives your hand a final squeeze and presses his lips to your forehead in a parting kiss before reluctantly pulling away and leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the task at hand, determined to make the most of your day even if you’re feeling a bit down.

It’s not easy for Charles to focus on his driving that day, not easy at all. He can’t seem to focus on the track when you seem to occupy his mind and linger in his thoughts. The people around him notices the way he seems almost detached at the garage that day, and also noticing your absence, thankfully they accommodate him and his aloofness the best they can. He keeps an eye on his phone the entire time before he gets in the car – something he usually never does before a race just in case you call him in need of assistance. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind as he prepares for the race. He knows he needs to focus, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Concern and worry gnaw at him, making it difficult to fully immerse himself in the adrenaline of the race.

Before climbing into his car, he approaches his brother, who is thankfully standing nearby. He looks into Lorenzo's eyes and speaks in a hushed tone, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Lorenzo, sensing the urgency in Charles' voice, gives him a nod, his own concern mirrored in his eyes. “Of course, Charles. What do you need? Is everything alright?”

Charles takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. “I need you to keep an eye on my phone, Y/N wasn’t feeling too good this morning, and i have a bad feeling about it.” He hands Lorenzo his phone, making sure to check one for one last time to see whether you’ve texted or called him, you haven’t.

Lorenzo's brows furrow with worry as he listens to Charles, but he understands the gravity of the situation and the significance of Charles' request. "Don't worry, Charles, I'll take care of it – and I'll let you know if anything happens. You focus on the race, and I'll make sure everything is handled."

With that assurance, Charles turns his attention back to the race ahead and quickly puts on his balaclava and helmet. He climbs into his car, adjusting his helmet and securing himself in the cockpit. The anticipation and excitement of the race surround him, but his mind remains consumed with worry for you as he tries to assure himself that you are fine and resting back at the hotel. The race begins, and Charles pushes the limits of his car, manoeuvring through the twists and turns of the track. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't fully immerse himself in the competitive spirit. Thoughts of you and your well-being linger, distracting him from the task at hand. His racing instincts seem dull, his reaction time slightly delayed, and he struggles to find his usual pace.

As the laps pass by, Charles notices that he's slipping further and further behind, unable to keep up with the leading pack. Frustration mounts within him, battling against his worry for you. The race that should have been a chance for him to shine becomes an arduous struggle to maintain his composure, as he struggles to keep up with the cars infront, the ones behind him seemingly passing him with ease and causing him to drop out of points. So despite his best efforts, Charles finishes the race with a disappointing result, far from his usual position on the podium. He steps out of the car, feeling a mix of exhaustion and disappointment washing over him. The familiar cheers from the crowd seem distant, overshadowed by his concern for you. His mind is occupied by imagining the worst as he gets out of his car, takes off his helmet and stumbles towards the team's garage. The once vibrant atmosphere now feels muted, as if the world around him has lost its importance. He can sense the curious glances and sympathetic looks from his fellow team members, but he can't bring himself to socialise with any of them.

His eyes hastily search for his brother, but Lorenzo is the one who finds him before he can spot him. Lorenzo's concerned gaze locks with Charles’, and he quickly makes his way toward him, his steps mirroring Charles’ urgency. Understanding the look in his brother’s eyes instantly, Charles asks, “What’s wrong? Is it Y/N? Is everything alright?”

Charles watches his brother expectantly as he places a comforting hand on his shoulder, making him want to slap his hand away, but the next words that come out of his mouth is enough to takes his breath away, “Carlos is on the phone with the hospital–”

“Hospital?” Charles interrupts Lorenzo, “Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire par l'hôpital qui t'a appelé?” What do you mean the hospital called you?

“Calm down, Charles, laisse-moi t'expliquer.” Lorenzo gives him a pointed look, and gently steer him towards his teammate’s cousin, “Y/N called me from the taxi, she said she was going to the hospital because she wasn’t feeling well,” he raises a hand to stop Charles from interrupting again, “she also told me that she’d call me once she got to the hospital but she didn’t, I’m guessing her phone died and the hospital called me instead. But my Spanish is non-existent and Carlos is talking to them, so for the love of God, calme-toi un peu.”

Charles's mind races with a mix of relief and anxiety upon hearing Lorenzo's explanation. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure as he listens to his brother's words. The realization that Y/N is at the hospital sinks in, bringing a wave of concern to the forefront of his thoughts. Nodding in acknowledgment, Charles tries to calm his racing heartbeat and focus on the information at hand. “My girlfriend is at a hospital in a country she’s not familiar with, how do you expect me to calm down?”

“Just wait for a moment, we’ll have more information when Carlos is done talking to the hospital-people.” Lorenzo reassures him, and it helps Charles to focus on the current issue at hand – learning the name of the hospital and finding his way there as fast as possible.

Taking Lorenzo's advice to heart, Charles tries to steady his racing thoughts and focus on the present. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and composed. The minutes feel like an eternity as they wait for Carlos to conclude the call. Finally, Carlos hangs up the phone and approaches Charles and Lorenzo, his expression grave but determined. "The hospital confirmed that Y/N arrived safely," Carlos begins, his voice steady. "They're currently conducting some tests to determine the cause of her discomfort. The initial assessment suggests it may be a severe case of food poisoning."

A certain degree of understanding and relief washes over Charles as he lets Carlos’ words sink in. He offers his teammate’s cousin a grateful look, “Thank you for your help, Carlos,” he nods his head in appreciation, “do you have the name of the hospital?”

Carlos returns Charles's grateful look with a reassuring smile and a nod, “It’s the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona, she’s a smart girl, Charles, it’s an international hospital so she shouldn’t have any problems communicating with the doctors.” He pats Charles’ shoulder when the latter gives him a confused look, “You weren’t exactly quiet, mate.”

Charles lets out a small chuckle, realizing that his worries may have been more apparent than he thought. He appreciates Carlos' attempt to lighten the mood and offers a grateful smile. "You're right, I probably wasn't the most composed person just now," he admits, "but I'm glad Y/N is in good hands at hospital and thank you for your help, I appreciate it."

“No need to thank me, I hope she’s doing okay.” The older man smiles and gives him a final nod as he makes his way towards his cousin.

“Charles,” one of the PR people starts as they make their way towards the duo, “you still have media–”

The look Charles gives the poor intern in return can only be described as a mix of exhaustion and frustration. He interrupts the PR person before they can finish their sentence. “Bill me.” He, then, turns to his brother as he shoots him an expectant look, “Can we go?”

“Come on, I’ll drive,” Charles hears his brother’s voice, which causes him to raise his eyebrows and receive in return, “you’re obviously too high on adrenaline right now, let me drive.”

Charles, recognizing his own state of mind, doesn't argue. He nods in agreement and takes a seat in the passenger side, grateful for his brother's support, but because he is Charles, he mumbles, “You better drive fast,” under his breath as he follows his brother out of the garage.

As the car navigates through the busy streets of Barcelona, Charles finds himself lost in his thoughts – he glances out the window, his eyes darting from building to building, as if searching for answers that lie beyond the glass. The tension in the air is palpable, the silence between the brothers punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of horns from other impatient drivers. He tries contacting the hospital once again, but it seems like luck is not on his side as the operator speaks to him solely in Spanish, which makes him reconsider what Carlos told him earlier. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona comes into view. Charles feels a surge of hope mixed with anxiety as Lorenzo skilfully manoeuvres the car into a parking spot. Charles is out of the car before Lorenzo even turns off the engine, which earns him a scolding from his brother, but he’s almost halfway through the walk to the entrance as he waves Lorenzo off.

As Charles approaches the entrance of the hospital, his pace quickens with a mix of urgency and concern. The automatic doors slide open, welcoming him into the bustling lobby. The sterile smell of disinfectant fills his nostrils, and the sound of footsteps echoes through the halls.

He makes his way to the reception desk, where a receptionist greets him with a warm smile, and (thankfully) speaks in English, “Good evening, how can I help you?”

Breathing heavily, Charles tries to gather his thoughts and speak clearly. “My girlfriend was admitted through ER earlier today, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me her room number and how she’s doing?”

The receptionist nods sympathetically. “I understand your concern, let me check the system for you.” She begins typing on her computer, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. After a few moments, she looks up at Charles. “I do see her in our system, but I don't have access to that information. You'll need to speak with someone from the emergency department.”

Frustration wells up within Charles, but he takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay calm. "Can you at least direct me to the emergency department?"

The receptionist offers an understanding smile. "Of course. Head down this corridor and take the first right. You'll find the emergency department entrance on your left."

Thanking the receptionist, Charles follows her directions, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and worry. He walks briskly, determined to reach Y/N's side as quickly as possible. As he enters the emergency department, the sense of urgency intensifies – he watches the hustle and bustle of the hospital; how the medical staff rush by, attending to patients in need and people who are waiting to see their loved ones just like him. His legs aimlessly takes him to the nearest a nurse station and approaches a nurse who seems available. “Excuse me, Miss” he calls out, trying to catch her attention. The nurse turns to him with a professional yet compassionate gaze. “I'm looking for my girlfriend, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me where I can find her?”

“Let me check her records,” the nurse smiles at him, an attempt to calm him and goes through the papers on the chart in her hands. “Here she is, it seems that she was recently moved – she’s supposed be in room 376, it’s on the third level, at the end of the main hallway.”

Relief floods over Charles as he receives the information from the nurse. He manages a grateful smile and nods in appreciation. "Thank you so much. I'll head there right away."

After thanking the nurse, Charles makes his way towards the elevators, following the signs that lead him to the third level. As he steps into the elevator, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. He makes sure he sends Lorenzo a text message to let him know where’s he’s headed, the ride to the third floor feels agonizingly slow, each passing floor adding to his impatience. When the elevator doors finally open, Charles steps out and finds himself in a long, well-lit hallway. He scans the room numbers, his eyes quickly landing on the sign indicating the direction of room 376. With determined strides, he makes his way down the hallway, passing by other patients' rooms and medical staff going about their duties.

Finally, he reaches room 376, and his breath catches in his throat. Taking a moment to steady himself, he gently pushes the door open, revealing a small but comforting space. Inside, he finds you lying in the hospital bed, an IV connected to your arm and one of your textbooks open on the bed beside you. He realises you’re asleep, however, as he watches you from afar. Seeing you lying there, Charles feels a mix of emotions overwhelm him—relief that you’re safe and being cared for, concern for your well-being, and a deep longing to be by your side. He approaches the bed with cautious steps, taking in your pale complexion and the weary lines etched on your face.

Gently, Charles pulls up a chair beside your bed and sits down, not wanting to disturb your much-needed rest. He reaches out and lightly brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a tender smile gracing his lips as he watches you sleep. Gently, he reaches out and takes your hand in his, offering her a tender squeeze. "Hey," he whispers softly, not wanting to startle you. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

You stir slightly, your eyes fluttering open. A weak smile graces your lips as you recognise Charles. "Charles," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but filled with warmth. "You came."

Charles feels a surge relief wash over him, he leans in closer, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Of course, I came, I'll always be here for you, chérie. What happened? How are you feeling?"

“I’m better now,” your voice comes off hoarse, and it makes Charles cringe inwardly, “I just wanted to come to the hospital because i kept throwing up and thought I had all the signs of food poisoning – but, honey, what are you wearing?”

Charles glances down at his attire, realizing he's still in his racing gear. “I didn’t have time to change,” he explains, his head tilted to the side as he gives you a strict look, “I should have just stayed with you.”

“You had a race, Charles,” your eyes widen in recognition as you remember the race. “Oh my god, how was it? Did you–”

“The race doesn’t matter, Y/N.” Charles interrupts, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I wish you wouldn’t try to be so independent all the time.”

He watches as your lips form a pout, your voice coming off more vulnerable than before as you ask, “What?”

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "What were you thinking? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this sick? I could have been here for you."

You give him a guilty look, the pout on your lips becoming deeper. "I didn't want to worry you, Charles. I thought I could handle it on my own."

His frustration melts away as he takes in your weakened state. He moves closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "You don't have to handle everything on your own, love. I'm here for you, always. I would have been by your side if you had just let me. I should have been there with you today, not at some race when you were puking your guts out.” He pauses, his thumb caressing the back of your cheek soothingly. “I know you value your independence, and I admire that about you. But sometimes, it's okay to lean on others, especially when you're going through tough times. You don't have to carry everything on your own.”

You listen to Charles's words, and a mixture of emotions swirl within you. His concern and care touch your heart, but you also understand the frustration he expresses. With a soft sigh, you squeeze his hand gently. You shift slightly in the bed, wincing at the discomfort. "Being independent has been a part of me for so long, and it's hard to let go of that mindset completely. But I'm learning, slowly, to find a balance, and I'm learning to lean on you when I need to and to share my burdens with you." You give him the softest smile you can muster, “I promise I’ll try to be better, darling.”

His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "You don't have to apologize, mignon. I understand why you wanted me to race, but your health and well-being will always be my priority. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to face things alone. We're a team, remember?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we are, and I’m sorry for worrying you, darling." You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin, and with a soft sigh, you begin speaking again. "I promise that I’ll lean on you more and remember that we’re a team.”

Charles leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "That's all I ask, love. Just remember that you have me, and I'll always be here for you, okay? I love you."

As you feel his lips on your forehead, a sense of comfort and love washes over you. You gaze into his eyes, filled with gratitude and affection. "I love you too, Charles," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for always being there for me, even when I push you away. I'm so grateful to have you by my side."

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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d3adbr3inc3lls · 8 months ago

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hey hey!! can i request a post DLC kieran x a male reader with chronic pain? (specifically in the legs) no one knows reader deals with chronic pain since he kept it secret, so maybe kieran finds reader while he’s going through a flare-up and helps him?

if you’re not comfortable with that i understand, hope this isn’t too specific or anything! have a good day and eat something tasty

Kieran x Male Reader with Chronic Pain | HCs & Drabble

I do apologise if I got anything wrong, I did do some research before writing this to get a better understanding of chronic pain and flare-ups. Also please make sure to take care of yourself !!! Drink some water and have a snack if you haven't done so already, (this applies to everyone who is reading aswell),

Just like everyone else, Kieran was oblivious to your pains, you were always great at hiding them from everyone in order to not risk being treated differently.

For as long as you had them, you could never get used to the burning sensation in your legs, and worst of all painkillers apparently weren't reccomended by some doctors, but seeing as you were in a constant state of distress to the point it affected your daily life, your doctor prescribed you some regular pain medication, hoping to ease the pain enough to let you function daily (they couldn't prescribe stronger pain meds in fear of addictions or possibly other side effects)

Never the less, you always tried to ignore it and spend time with everyone, especially Kieran.

Kieran was your boyfriend, he cared for you deeply, and despite the troubles he had faced before during the time he was champion, you were the first one to welcome him back with open arms.

He always loved that about you, despite how horrible he may have been, you welcomed him back into your life- first being friends, then dating- after he had proved to you that he did change, and he was no longer the cruel and feared trainer, driven by obsession to get stronger rumours have it that an exchange student was the cause, but you never believed it.

Falling to the floor you clutch your leg as you let out a pained grunt. Just like always, it comes out of nowhere, this time you were preparing yourself some breakfast, there was nothing that could've possibly triggered it, you haven't done anything new, there weren't any exams or assignments due that may have added extra stress, there was nothing that could've contributed.

Shifting yourself so that you were now sitting down on the cool tiles of the kitchen, you reached for your phone with one hand whilst the other rubbed at the area where it burned the most, hoping to ease some pain.

Grabbing the small device hastily, you navigate the Blueberry Academy website to file a student absence. Quickly typing away with one hand, the other slipped from your leg and reached into your pocket to grab your much needed pain meds, but something told you that if they didn't help already, there's no way they'd help now.

All you could really do was wait around until it stops, but even then, it could take hours for all you knew, and it scared you.

Trying to massage the pain in your legs, you could feel yourself being close to tears as you place your phone down on the floor so both hands could massage the pain.

In reality, you knew that it may not help much, but you liked to believe that it did. It gave you some hope.

Sighing, you pocketed your phone before slowly getting up, trying to ignore the intense burning sensation in your legs you moved yourself to the bed.

When you were close enough, you threw yourself onto your bed to avoid further walking. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you brought your legs closer to your chest, accepting that you can't do much at this current moment apart from wait for it to pass.

Trying to distract yourself, you weakly grab your headphones, pulling them over your ears with your free hand rubbing at your legs as tears roll down your face.

Distant ringing of the bell indicated the start of period one. You would've had math with Kieran as it was day 4. Glancing at your phone, guilt from dipping class without notifying Kieran (as you often did when you were sick) gnawed at you, but you knew he'd understand. If Kieran questioned you, you knew you could tell him that you had a fever and looking at screens hurt your eyes, but even that was a poor excuse for not notifying your boyfriend.

Music helped distract you a bit, but it wasn't enough. Hearing a familiar noise you look up to see that your partner pokémon which had left its ball, looking at you with a worried expression before sitting on the edge of your bed, nuzzling your hand in order to get you to pat them.

Rubbing your partner pokémon's head, you could feel yourself calm down from the initial fear.

Not too long after you heard the familiar bells ring again, indicating the start of the 5-10 minutes you get to walk between classes.

If it was a normal day, you'd be in English with Lacey, -and Drayton the few times a month he does tag along, mostly with the intention to ask something from from you or Lacey- you'd probably continuing reading Pokémon farm and awnsering some questions about it.

"Y/n-"

You almost missed the soft creaking your door made as someone stepped inside.

You wouldn't have noticed the person if it weren't for the painfully loud creaking of two floorboards as the newcomer's weight was moved onto them.

Kieran was there, wide-eyed as he stared at you before quickly closing the door and running over to you,

"Are you okay??"

He asked as he quickly dropped himself onto his knees next to you, gently cupping your face to remove any tears,

"What am I on about, of course you aren't okay," he mumbled to himself before making eye contact with you. The worry in his eyes was prominent as he ran his thumb across your cheekbone,

"Should I run a hot shower for you?"

"Kiki,"

"I could run to the cafeteria to grab you a snack?"

"Kieran,"

"Maybe-"

"Kieran."

Your voice finally snapped him out of his panicked thoughts as he looked at you again,

"I'm fine," You insisted as you attempt to sit up, your legs still close to your body,

"You're not." Kieran frowned as he sat next to you, leaning you on him as he gently ran his fingers through your soft hair, playing with some strands as looked at you, fearing for the worst.

"Please, just tell me what's wrong,"

His tone was so defeated, he hated seeing you in pain, and he'd never forgive himself if he ignored you when you were hurting.

Nervously glancing up at him, you sighed before explaining to him what was happening. He only nodded along, a speck of sadness in his eyes was visible, perhaps it was because you hid the pain and didn't want to tell him about it earlier.

"Y-y/n, why didn't you tell me this before,?"

His voice was soft, almost pained. And it broke you.

"I didn't want to be treated differently because of this,"

Your voice was equally as soft, guilt gnawing at you again.

Kieran let out a soft sigh before running his hands through your hair, thinking of something,

"Well- I could run a bath for you- but concidering that it's your legs, it'd be difficult for you to move. Another idea is something cold- got any frozen peas?"

Quickly returning, Kieran placed the frozen bag onto the affected area before gently lifting you enough to grab the blankets under you.

From one end of the temperature spectrum to the other, you nodded, causing Kieran to slowly got up after making sure you were comfortable enough to be left alone on the bed.

After making sure you were okay -as okay as someone with a flare-up could be- he quickly left to grab the frozen peas in your freezer.

His Hydrapple has been out of its pokeball for a while now, resting at the foot of your bed with the Applin Kieran had given to you when he confessed.

The two mons, alongside your partner pokémon would throw you concerned glances as they talked amongst eachother, with your partner pokémon probably telling them how you don't want to be pitied or treated differently for your pain.

Kieran draped the blanket over your shoulders before sitting down next to you and grabbing the remote.

Leaning you against himself like he did before, Kieran turned on the TV, hoping to find another way to distract you from the burning sensations.

You could feel the frozen bag easing the pain as the cold transferred over to your leg.

Running his hands through your hair, Kieran looked at you, a soft smile painted his face as he saw the lack of tears on your face.

A sign that you were starting to feel better.

"Do you want to watch something dear,?"

#Pokemon SV x reader #Kieran x reader #Kieran x Male Reader #Pokemon Kieran x Reader #Pokemon x Reader #my work #Pokemon Scarlet and Violet x reader #Male reader

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mistypsych · 1 year ago

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ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 1

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapter or so there might not be a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. The next chapters there will be way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

You slowly stepped into the on-call room, sighing while rubbing your aching nape. The painful muscle tension was starting to turn into a headache. You sat down on the big couch and leaned your head back, instantly feeling your body loosen and sink into the soft cushions. Today was a rough day for the ER unit. The hospital was dealing with multiple trauma victims due to a horrendous bus collision. Some patients were barely banged up others unfortunately were looking like they might not make it threw the night. You were already dreading the moment you would have to talk with their family members in case the worse was to come.

The weight of the hour-less intense work and surgeries was starting to rub off on your whole body. As you were almost about to doze off, the doors slammed wide open. “What a fucking trip…” Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he saw you glare at him from under your hooded eyelids. “How many energy drinks did your pour into yourself Kook?” you said in a bit agitated tone. You were tired and running on fumes. He seemed way less strained.

The on-call room was called so for a reason. It was supposed to be a safe heaven for peace and rest. It seemed as tho people like your long time friend let those facts slip their mind. “Sorry Y/N. I did not think you were about to sleep… You looked on fire there!” scoffing a bit under your breath you mumbled “Sometimes I really doubt your capability to think at all… and yes I was lit because I had to at the moment plus I had tons of adrenaline pumping in my system. Now it’s all wearing off”. Running his tattooed hand threw the thick and shiny locks of hair he sighed in defeat. He knew your were right. At times he was way to energetic and high maintenance.

“Still good for tomorrow?” he changed the subject not wanting to get into a war of back and forth bantering. Nodding your head you hummed in agreement.

Both of you usually made plans on your days off to go out and give medical attention to those who were less fortunate. You took care of the homeless, drug addicts and poor elders that were embarrassed to seek help at the official medical institutions. Many times it was also the lack of insurance that could get very high. The two of you saw it as charity and giving back to society.

You met Jungkook at med school in the USA. He was a scholarship student that worked his way into getting the opportunity to study overseas. You were the only person at your year that was able to speak Korean due to the fact you went to Seoul during part of your high school years. So of course you were more than happy to help Kook who at times struggled with the more difficult English terms during the lectures.

Over the years you two grew close and he was the one to say you should once again go to Seoul and take up your internship there. Being an adventurous young woman the mere thought of it seemed a great idea. So here you were years later already after your internship with a secured position as one of the junior trauma surgeons and planning charity work with your friend. You already scheduled some “appointments” with your long term patients.

To be honest you preferred this type of work more than the big shot tasks at the hospital. For you medicine should focus more on helping people. The world showed you many times that if you were less fortunate or simply made some bigger mistakes in life, the cruel reality was that usually there was no way to afford medical attention and insurance. Sometimes it was also the cost of meds themselves. Those could be unbelievably high, especially when it came to rare or terminal illnesses.

You and Kookie worked with official charities that did their best to find funds for some crucial medication for the poor. Not once did you also end up saving lives of some addicts that overdosed. Usually people just let them lay on the streets and did not care to help. You could not blame them tho. The less nice areas of the city were also full of con artists and people simply did not want to risk their own lives. At times it was also the mentality of “they did it to themselves, now they need to bear the consequences”.

You were not there to judge. How could any of you know what these people went threw in life? What pushed them to “self medicate”. So you kept focused solemnly on helping those who seemed like they needed it.

You closed your eyes again trying to ignore the fact that Jungkook was rustling around with some food wrapping. “If I am to survive the last two hours of this hell shift and be of any use tomorrow I would greatly appreciate you stop making a ruckus and let me rest!” you huffed angrily, not even bothering to open your eyes. Once the room was filled with silence, a content smirk spread over your lips. At last the well deserved quiet. Sweet darkness of dreamland slowly took over your mind.

*** *** ***

Getting to your apartment after ending a difficult day at the hospital always filled you with relief. It was close to 8 p.m. Not having to work the night shift this time and having the day off tomorrow made you really happy. As you walked deeper into the hallway your nostrils got hit with a mouthwatering smell of delicious food cooking, it instantly made a smile spread on your lips. The sizzling sound coming from the kitchen meant that your fiancé was already off work as well.

He was one of the best criminal detectives in the city. You both worked hard and sometimes very long hours, but you somehow managed to keep your relationship flourishing threw all the years. Walking towards the sweet and sour smell, you saw his slim frame hovering over some pans and stirring their content. His wide slim shoulders moving under a simple black t-shirt. They matched so well with his thin waist shaping his figure into a perfect triangle.

Resting against the door frame you stared at him in awe. “Are you gonna keep looking or do you plan on saying hello?” he said in a joking tone and turned to you with a big grin that reached to his eyes. You always wondered how he could keep such a sunshine attitude while working a job full of murders, death and gore.

Pushing your back off the frame you walked to him humming and wrapping your arms around him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent. “Hoba… you are too good to me…” you murmured and kissed him behind the ear. The fact that after a surely long day of work for him, he was there making you both a nice late dinner made your heart squeeze.

You really appreciated having him in you life and that somehow you both were deeply involved despite having hectic and difficult careers. The saying - where there is will there is a way - always made you think of your relationship with Hoseok.

After finishing dinner and basically licking your plate clean, you turned to Hobi with a smile “I’ll take care of the dishes” you said taking the plates from the table and making your way to the kitchen. As you were about to dry off the last glass you felt slender fingers creep up your back. You turned your face a bit a small smirk twisting the side of your lips.

“I was thinking of desert…” Hoseok said in a deep voice staring straight into your eyes. “Oh yea? You want me to run down to the store and grab something?” you teased, being well aware that was not what he had in mind. The twinkling of your eyes giving away how much you were enjoying this. But your fiancé was not the type to put up with games for too long so his only response was rolling his eyes, grabbing you and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you kissed him desperately.

Lately both of you were so busy with work, you barely had the time or strength for even watching a movie together, so you excitedly welcomed the attention he was giving you. Not bothering to make it to the bedroom you ended on his lap on the couch. Your kisses were getting wild and messy. Just as you started to grind against his growing member, your breaths getting fast and uneven, you heard the loud ring of your phone.

If it were any other signal you would chose to ignore it completely, but the ring tone suggested is was Jungkook from his “special” number in case of an emergency. “Foooor fucks sake!” you growled trying to wait out the call, still kissing and moving your hips over your fiancé. If it was just a couple rings you could try and tell yourself your friend was piss ass drunk messing around.

Much to your dismay the phone kept on buzzing “I need to take this…” you said sadly looking at Hobi who was trying to even out his excited heartbeat. “It’s ok babe” he said, he knew he could not be angry about it, usually it was him being called into some crime scene. You walked away to answer the call “You better be almost dead or something close to that to have a reason for calling me at this hour!” you hissed into the speaker.

“Y/N! This is serious. A guy needs help… he can’t get into the hospital and the wounds are beyond my expertise. I am downstairs waiting for you. I really need your fucking help. I will explain everything later” his voice was shaky and full of what seemed like fear, so you stopped your ranting right away.

You quickly ran to grab your coat “I am coming down!” closing the door on your way out you told Hoseok you might have a very late night and maybe he should not wait up for you. Taking quick strides down the stairs of your apartment building you once again were thanking the universe for the most understanding man to have chosen to exist in your life.

*** *** ***

You quickly got into Kooks car throwing your medical bag onto the back seat. “I brought all my suturing stuff in case it was really that bad…” you said under your breath still a bit irked at the fact you were driving somewhere instead of getting frisky with your lover. “You will need it. Trust me…” is all your friend said.

Turing to finally look at him you saw he was pale, his hair was messy and his forehead was beaded with sweat. He was clutching the stirring wheel to the point his knuckles were white. You never saw him so nervous, not even at the hospitals ER unit.

Driving in silence for some time you finally snapped out of your trail of thoughts and realized you made it into the shady outskirts of Seoul. Even when working on your charity missions you both never made it into the really dangerous corners of the city, so you were very surprised and felt a shiver run threw your body.

You let your questioning gaze fall to Kookie, you were about to blurt out a “what the fuck man?” but before you could, he was out of the car grabbing your bag and walking to your side. Seeing your face full of questions, he opened the car door for you looking at you seriously “It’s fine… we are fine… we need to go there” he pointed towards a dark building that looked like a hangar.

Your body involuntarily shook at the sight. You immediately thought of all the crime scenes and stories Hobi shared with you from time to time when you asked him about work. But instead of listening to your panicking mind, you decided that surely Jungkook had to know what was going on and since he said it was fine it had to be, right?

You cautiously walked behind him letting him carry your bag. Usually you would always rip it out just to show what a strong and independent woman you were. Once you walked into the building you could hear the soles of your shoes clank on the hard floor. It all started to feel like some thriller movie, the type with a bad ending. The beating of your heart was so loud you could swear Kook had to hear it. The adrenalin was rushing in your system and you were starting to feel in flight mode.

Before you could panic more, an unknown voice broke you out of the cycle “Fucking bout’ time!” a tall and strong built guy growled at your friend and then eyed you top to bottom. “This is that great surgeon? She is supposed to be better than you?” he scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his face. “For your information I am fucking better at surgical work than most!” you snapped. You were freaked out and now some dude that looked like a typical thug was trying to insult you.

“You better not be just running your mouth hun” he smirked grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to the next room. He basically shoved you inside and tossed your bag at you. You didn’t even know when he managed to take it from Kook. The sight in front of you was gruesome. A young male about your age was laying on some banged up table. Blood was oozing out of his stomach. His pitch black long hair was sticky, his skin pale as a sheet of paper.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered walking up to the man. You turned to look at your colleague giving him the “what do you expect me to do?! make a fucking miracle happen?!” stare. You bent over the man and checked for a pulse. To your surprise he was still alive.

Looking at his slashed abdomen you thought to yourself there is now way you can do anything in these conditions. Even if by some chance you were to manage to stitch him up, the place was far from sterile, so he would die of sepsis anyway. “He needs a fucking hospital!” you say and take your phone out to call up an ambulance.

Suddenly your cell got knocked out of your hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Just as your were about to scream your head off, you saw it, the end of a gun pointing straight at your forehead. “No hospitals” the tall male snarled. Now you were sure, you got into some gang business and this was not gonna go the way you want.

tag list: @wobblewobble822

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ayanominitrash · 11 months ago

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Stay Awake For Me (Sukuna x reader)

I first posted this on Ao3 here.

**contains cussing and mentions of taking medication One shot where the reader is a sleepy university student and Ryomen Sukuna is the infamous mean frat boy classmate. An encounter in class resulted in him finding out you're taking meds for anxiety.

₊˚ ♡

University certainly kicks ass, and it certainly is incredibly expensive. You try your best to keep up with the never-ending piles of homework and your hectic part-time night shift job at the nearby fast food chain. The pay was shit but you'd do anything to support yourself instead of relying solely on your siblings' money to help you through school.

Unfortunately, you couldn't keep up with it all with your past school schedule, so you dropped one of your subjects and replaced it with one that's a bit later than usual. This is hilarious on your part because after lunch was usually when your sleep-deprived self has caught up with you and you end up dozing off in that class almost all the time.

Today was no different. Your eyelids feel heavy as you take a seat. It wasn't your usual seat but you couldn't care less as your head falls down in your arms as you take a nap while the class was waiting for the professor.

It wasn't long till you were shoved off of your seat and onto the floor, squealing out in surprise as you rub your aching bottom from the fall.

"The fuck you think you're doing sitting on my chair, brat?"

The metal stands of the chair you once sat on grinds against the floor before the tall man takes a seat, looking down at you with a disgusted look on his face.

It was Ryomen Sukuna. He's a notorious frat boy who everyone feared. This wasn't your first time interacting with him so you weren't surprised by his brash behavior.

The same goes for the other people in the class. They stopped in their conversation when you fell, but seeing that it was Sukuna, they weren't surprised and went back to their own thing.

"S-sorry, I didn't know I was sitting at - "

"Well, now you know. Now, get the fuck out of my space." He says as he waved a hand like he is dismissing you.

You quickly gather the stuff that fell with you, scrambling to stand up. You hear something metallic fall out of your bag, to which you seem to notice Sukuna was going to say something about it when the professor finally shows up. You hurriedly find your usual seat at the back and plop down before the scary man can say anything else.

₊˚ ♡

It was finally the end of class and you managed to stay awake this time. The incident probably helped you stay alert. The class said their goodbyes to the professor and you were quick to gather your things and walk out the door. During the class, Sukuna keeps on looking back at you with a quizzical look on his face. You don't know what this means but you certainly aren't going to hang back after class to find out. For all you know, the man was thinking of different ways to murder you.

It was either he was fast as hell or you were moving too slow because he caught up to you in the middle of the hallway, pulling you by the back of your collar to stop you.

"Brat, stop walking so fast. Geez." Sukuna says as you turn around to look up at him.

"L-look, it was a little mistake. I didn't notice that it was your chair -"

"Shut up." He simply says before his hand reaches something from his pocket. "You dropped this, genius."

One look was all it takes before you immediately grabbed the metallic item from his hand. You quickly looked around to see if anyone saw the thing before sighing in relief.

"That some kind of birth control or something?"

"W-what?! Do I look like someone who has an active sex life for that kind of thing?!" You say, cheeks and ears turning pink at the ludicrous statement that left the tall man's lips.

He simply shrugs. "The fuck is it then?"

"I-it's my... .my prescription meds. F-for my anxiety. Please don't tell anyone."

"Oh," He has the same quizzical look he was giving you in class, but this time, it was more thoughtful. The tall man suddenly smiles widely. "So you're a psycho or something, then? Crazy?"

This was something that may seem normal for anyone, like off-handed teasing but this was a sensitive topic for you and something in you snap. Suddenly, you weren't afraid of the man in front of you anymore. You throw him a stormy look on your face, the best that you can muster that he actually looks a bit surprised. Without saying anything, you turn around to speedwalk out of the hallway, trying to get a good distance away from the prick.

"Woah, woah, there. What's the matter, struck a nerve?" Sukuna quickly caught up beside you. With him being taller than you, it was an easy few strides for him to fall in step beside you despite your efforts. "It was a joke, you silly fuck. Don't get all emotional on me, yeah?"

You didn't look back at him, your brows still furrowed and your eyes glued to the ground. Suddenly, he puts a hand on your head and ruffled your hair, much to your surprise.

"C'mon, let's have lunch together." He says in a soft voice that you were caught off guard a bit. "I'll try to make sure you don't fall asleep on your food."

₊˚ ♡

Ryomen Sukuna, the frat boy feared by everyone, wouldn't stop bothering you after that. He would follow you in between classes, hands in his pocket. Pestering you until you two fall into your usual banter, throwing insults just for shits and giggles. People were raising eyebrows about how Sukuna treated you. He was still being a prick but he's more mellow when it comes to you. Although he was starting to get annoyed at how you're always knocked out whenever he goes out looking for you.

"And here he comes," Your batchmate, Maki, says as your friend group watches Sukuna approach your table outside the schoolyard. This is where you, Maki, and Nobara hang out whenever the three of you have a free period. "And look, he even bought her a drink."

Nobara wiggles her eyebrows, "Wonder if that's the only thing he'll do to keep her up."

"I can hear both of you bitches." Sukuna says as he reaches the table.

He clicks his tongue when his eyes land on you, passed out on the table. There was a slight pool of saliva where your cheek met the table. It was gross but Sukuna secretly finds it adorable, with your hair matting against your forehead with your sweat.

"Now, whatever shall you mean? All we heard was the sound of love birds chirping in the air!" Maki teases, nudging Nobara with her elbow.

"Leave or I'll spill this drink on both of you."

Nobara puts her hands up as if to surrender. "Okay, okay. We'll leave you both to it. Y/n, your boyfriend's here!"

She nudges you lightly in an attempt to wake you to no avail. They leave the both of you as they make their way back to the University entrance.

Sukuna places the can of energy drink near your face as he takes a seat across from you. He looks at your sleeping face for a bit with a soft look in his eyes before shoving you harshly, almost falling off your seat like the last time.

"Stop sleeping, brat. Anymore sleeping and you might start missing me."

You wipe the drool off your cheek and raise an eyebrow at him. " Oh? Isn't it the other way around?"

"Why would I fucking miss you? I practically see your ugly face every day."

"Yeah, cus you keep following me. You even bought me an energy drink just to keep me awake, huh?." You cup the said beverage in hand, grateful that it's still cold.

"Don't feel too fucking special. Someone from my fan club bought that for me. I'll give it to you since I already had one."

"Liar," a smirk playing on your lips.

Opening the lid of the can, you take a sip from it as Sukuna watches you. You don't know when the two of you had gotten so close that you'd end up like this but you don't mind.

"Hey, why are you being so nice to me anyway?" You say as you settle the can back down the table.

Sukuna leans his head in his palm with a bored look. "I'm not being fucking nice to you. Who said?"

"I mean, you're clearly harsher with everyone else. So why am I different?"

"Exactly. Why are you different?"

You hit him with a deadpan and he just grins at you. "There's nothing much to it, brat. I'm just bored and I got nothing else to do."

"Mmhmm."

"And well," He continues, his eyes looking away from you. "My younger brother, Yuji, is on the same meds as you. So in a way, you kind of remind me of him."

"Do you happen to want to kiss your brother, by any chance?"

He scoffs, "Shut up smart mouth. Who says about anyone wanting to kiss you?"

"Just had a hunch, is all." You wiggle your eyebrows at him to which he just scoffs again, not missing the slight twitch of his lips.

Silence falls between the two of you for a while, engulfed in both of your own thoughts. You smiled at him suddenly, to which he lifts his brows in both question and surprise.

"Thank you for being nice to me." You say in a small voice.

He quickly looks away and you note that the tips of his ears turn pink.

"Fuck off, brat. You just think I'm nice to you because you're too busy sleeping to know how I really act."

⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere

another mid plot and writing but i wrote this when i first started drinking antidepressants just to cope and to feel comforted

i hated it and stopped drinking it after a while tho ://

#sukuna x reader #jujustu kaisen #fanfic #fluff #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #antidepressants #meds #anxiety

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reve-writes · 2 years ago

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—look. | chishiya shuntarō x reader.

alice in borderland chishiya shuntarō x reader.

the three times he stares at you and you notice + the one time you stare at him and he notices. | med school!au.

one. first year lecture.

Your hand shoots up as soon as the professor finishes his question. It is the fifth time in a row, and your classmates have already started whispering. Chishiya raises an eyebrow—out of both amusement and curiosity.

"Yes, ___?"

You smile, answering the question correctly. When the next question comes, the professor disregards your raised hand, and calls upon a blond-haired guy, three seats behind you. You whip around, locking eyes with Chishiya. He looks smug as he answers the question.

By the end of the class, you have somewhat of an admiration and annoyance towards Chishiya Shuntarō.

two. college frat party.

Chishiya has his hands in his zipped hoodie, rejecting the nth cup of drink being offered. He leans against the wall, trying to avoid the sweaty, dancing bodies under the obnoxious mirror ball.

"___!" He hears your name being called. "You shouldn't!"

Chishiya pushes himself off of the wall, and ventures into the sea of bodies. What are you up to? He thinks, as he shoulders a guy and slips between two dancing couples. The dancers clear up to the living room. You're grabbing at the bottles of alcoholic beverages placed on top of the living room table.

You're... definitely not sober. He notices your sweaty hair sticking to your skin. There are stains on your clothes. The most telltale sign is probably your puffy red cheeks, and the fact that you are sobbing. Your friend is holding you back around your torso, their hands grabbing at yours, trying to stop you from drinking anymore.

"One more!" You slur, with a high-pitched singsong voice.

He chuckles. So, the model student knows how to party. He is about to turn around when your finger suddenly shot up, pointing at him.

"You!" you yell. Your friends are staring at him now. They are all too shocked, perhaps, to stop you as you trudged forward, barely avoiding tripping over yourself towards him. On the last step, your luck runs out, and you trip over your own shoe. You fall forward, towards him, clinging onto his hoodie.

Instead of apologizing, you smile. Chishiya draws his face back. Too close. He can smell the alcohol on your breath. His hand instinctively grab your arms to steady you.

"You're very smart, Chishiya," you slur out, half-chuckling. You end your sentence with a hiccup. "Keep up the good work."

He stares for a moment, bewildered. When he thinks you've regained your footing, he lets you go, but you immediately sway forward again. He catches you. Again. You're definitely too close now.

"Thanks." he replies.

Your hands come up to his cheeks and squeeze. You're giggling as you say, "You look adorable."

He freezes. Your friends seem to have collected themselves. Two of them swiftly walk forward and pry you away from him.

"I'm sorry for her. She's extremely drunk," One of them says, dragging you to sit on the couch.

Chishiya shrugs and turns to leave. The next morning, he finds a sticky note on his desk—the one where he is seated three seats behind you—with a chocolate bar. Sorry for yesterday.

three. in the library.

From the whole campus, Chishiya's favourite place, despite it being cliché, is the library. It is a magnificent three-storey building with a lot of space for working and studying. He slides into his usual desk in the corner by the second floor window with three thick textbooks in front of him.

He hears hushed voices.

"Sorry, ___. I have family matters to attend to," he hears one of your classmates say. Is it Keiko? He doesn't remember. "Can you cover my part?"

"I need to take care of my grandma. She's unwell and can't walk by herself," he hears another voice say. He can put a face to the voice, but the name escapes him. "I'm really sorry, ___, but will you cover my share of the work, too? Please?

They simultaneously say, "Please?"

He knows they're both lying. He knows you're smart enough to know that as well.

He hears you sigh. For a second, he thinks you are going to yell or tell them off, but you don't. Your voice, when you speak, sounds like those salespeople who have had a really shitty day, but have to fake enthusiasm anyway.

"That's alright."

A chorus of thank yous and some shuffling are heard, and then footsteps leaving. He thinks you've also left, until he hears typing. Chishiya doesn't know why, but he picks up his books and bag, walks past a row of bookshelves, and plops himself down across from your desk.

You don't notice him. Your eyes are skimming through pages and pages of scientific research. He opens his textbook, annotating parts that he considers relevant and jotting things down. He has almost forgotten your presence by the time you sigh, furiously snapping a book shut. You burrow your face in your hands.

He doesn't realize you're crying until you let out a sob. What should he do?

You wipe your face furiously and take a deep breath. You try typing something on your laptop, but barely a couple of words in, you break down again. This time, your entire body shakes with your sobs.

He considers packing up and leaving. Chishiya doesn't need to deal with your group's unprofessionalism or your tears. You share a couple of classes together, but you aren't best buds or anything. At best, the two of you are acquaintances.

While he's considering what to do, you look up, staring straight at him with your tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes. Chishiya's thought of leaving leaves him at that moment.

"I'm sorry," you say, between sobs. "Did I bother you? I'll try to be more quiet."

He chuckles, amused, but you are definitely not amused as more tears start spilling.

"I'm so embarrassing, I'm sorry," you cry.

"No, sorry," he says, gathering his things. He sits next to you, letting his stack of textbooks stay closed as he takes a peek at your laptop screen. "Do you need help?"

"No, it's okay," you wipe your cheeks. "I can do it."

He stares at you with a raised eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. He tilts his head as if saying go ahead, then.

You sigh. "I can't. Please help me."

He should just up and leave. Chishiya doesn't know why he sticks around, browsing articles and textbooks to help you write up your group project. Hell, he doesn't even take this class!

Despite every logical part of him knowing he gains nothing from this, he stays until you two are told to leave as the library is closing. He even stays as you offer to buy him dinner at a popular café across your campus.

Chishiya thinks he should leave. He thinks he shouldn't get too friendly. But he wolfs down the curry rice and walks you back to your dormitory by the end of the night.

one. after classes.

It's five p.m. when you're dismissed from class. Your friends have hyped you up throughout the day for this very moment, but the thought of it still drains the blood from your face. Your hands are cold and sweaty as you gather up your things into your bag.

It can't hurt to ask.

It will hurt your ego. You pout as you step out into the hallway. You're too caught up in your thoughts, almost bumping into one of your lecturers, but luckily you snap out of it and side-step. You start heading to the next building, where his class has probably just been dismissed.

It doesn't take you long to find the blond-haired man. He has his backpack slung over one of shoulder. His other hand is stuffed inside the pocket of his trousers.

You swallow. Your friends are going to be disappointed today, because there is no way you're going up to him. No way. Not today.

He keeps walking forward, not noticing you, until he does. You know he notices you staring, because his usual deadpan expression melts away. His head tilts to the side as it often does when he's thinking.

No going back now.

You wave at him. He waves back. You step towards him, your knees are jelly under you. Ever since the library shenanigans, the two of you are on friendly terms. You don't talk to each other a lot outside of classes. The problem is you want to talk to him a lot outside of classes.

He doesn't say anything when you stop in front of him. He waits with an eyebrow raised.

Now or never. You repeat it in your head over and over. Your fists are clenched by your side as you swing back and forth on your feet. You should spit it out by now, right? He may think you're weird if you just keep silent.

"Chishiya," you say.

He hummed.

"Do you want to grab coffee together?" You blurt out.

"Okay," he shrugs. "Where?"

He's too nonchalant.

You shake your head no. "I mean, like a date."

There he goes again, tilting his head to the side quizzically. "A date?"

You rush your next few words. "IF you want to. Completely optional. Either yes or no. I thought I would ask. You know? Never hurts to ask, they say. We'll be busy later on so I thought we can try for now. If it's too weird, then we can just not do it. I'm alright. Are you alright?"

He chuckles. You can't read him. Is he amused? Is he annoyed?

"Okay. A date."

bonus. a date?

Chishiya catches you staring at him as he's leisurely walking towards his dormitory. He stops, staring back quizzically. Do you need his help? Did your groupmates ditch you again? He told your professor about it. They won't dare dump all the work on you again, but he can be wrong. University students are as shameless as they come.

When the realization dawns on him, that you've just asked him out on a date, his heart skips a beat.

Say no, he thinks, but he can't. He watches you nervously sway on your feet. He notices how you wring your fingers together nervously. Chishiya chuckles. You're adorable, he thinks.

In that moment, he knows he's absolutely screwed, because there is no way he can ever say no to you.

[ ]

just some fluffy college au ♡ did i go overboard? yes i did. i hope you like it anyway. maybe slight ooc chishiya but college. au.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader

966 notes · View notes

runariya · 3 months ago

Text

My Beloved Villain (JJK) • Chapter 4

pairing: hero!Jungkook x villain!female reader genre: dark romance, gore, villain!AU, hero!AU, slow burn fic rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, fluff, inner conflicts between good and bad, thoughts about murder, lies, date night, fluff, Jungkook is a hopeless romantic (let me live, I can't write him any other way), detailed description of assass!nation and fighting, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 7.3K

a/n: not edited - sorry 🥺

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to med school are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • masterlist • 05

Like morning dew burning off beneath the warmth of the sun, the anticipation for your upcoming date with Jungkook became a soothing balm, easing the sting of your failed plans as they fade into insignificance. The thought of it has been with you all day yesterday, lurking at the corners of your mind, filling you with an unfamiliar, innocent lightness. There is something about the idea of being with him—outside of your daily routines, in a space where you can allow yourself to relax, just for a moment—that makes everything else seem distant and irrelevant.

And as the hours of the day passed in a series of shared classes, the world shrunk to just the two of you, a comfortable rhythm that left you both physically drained but somehow still energised by the sheer presence of one another. His attentiveness, the way he slid a snack bar onto your desk just when your energy had begun to wane in the afternoon, made you feel like a simple girl worth of care. And though you don’t often let yourself indulge in such sweet feelings, you couldn’t help but hope that you’ll find a way to return his kindness tenfold.

Now, in your very first class of the next day, you sit side by side in the lecture hall, fingers quietly tapping at your laptops as you take notes on the professor’s monotonous ramblings. It’s the same droning voice you’ve been subjected to since the class started an hour ago, and the coffee that once kept you alert is losing its grip quicker than you hoped it will, leaving you teetering on the edge of exhaustion and resignation before the day even started. Every word of his feels like it's passing through a fog, and you find yourself struggling to focus as the professor drones on and on and on.

It’s only when an incoming email notification pops up in the lower-right corner of your screen, and, almost in perfect synchronicity, you notice the same alert flash on Jungkook’s laptop beside you, that the fog barely lifts. The click of typing halts as you and Jungkook pause, exchanging brief glances with raised eyebrows before turning your attention back to the notification.

The subject line catches your attention first, sent from the university’s secretariat. The body of the email, however, is harder to grasp in its entirety, your eyes skimming the opening lines, as you catch only fragments—words like visit, top-students, and mayor. A deep sense of unease begins to build in your chest, even before the loud rap of knuckles against the lecture hall door interrupts the class.

Instinctively, you look up as the door creaks open, revealing the dean standing in the entranceway. His gaze sweeps over the room, disinterested in most of the students until it lands on you and Jungkook. His face splits into a smile so fake it looks like it was sculpted by hand, each muscle strained into place where you know they’ve never been there before. He exchanges a few words with the professor—empty pleasantries at best—before addressing the room in a louder voice.

“Jungkook, Y/N,” he calls over all the heads sitting in front of you, “you’re dismissed for the rest of the day. Please, follow me immediately.”

The wild noise of your inner darkness roars to life, a deafness that fills your ears and clouds your senses. The discomfort ripples through your body, tightening your grip on your laptop, but you can’t focus on anything other than the way your heartbeat has quickened. You don’t trust this sudden summons, don’t trust in you not having the control. Not at all.

“Come on, let’s go,” Jungkook whispers, nudging you lightly with his elbow as he begins to pack up his things. His smile is small but proud, as though this is a reward, a recognition of his hard work.

You follow him on autopilot, closing your laptop with a dull *thud* that echoes across the silent lecture hall. You barely notice the eyes on you as you both rise from your seats, barely register the beginning of curious murmurs or the professor’s lackluster attempt to regain control of the room. The only thing that barely grounds you is the presence of Jungkook beside you, his excitement not affecting you in the slightest.

When you step outside, you’re met by your friends, the rest of the group classified as “top students”. Yoongi and Jennie stand with bored indifference, neither seeming particularly interested in the sudden shift in the day’s events. Hoseok, on the other hand, mirrors Jungkook’s enthusiasm, his smile wide and full of good-natured anticipation. But it’s Taehyung who catches your eyes. He throws you a glance—concerned, questioning if you’re okay—but you shake your head subtly, silently willing him to stay calm. Whatever is happening, you’ll figure it out soon enough.

The dean doesn’t give you much time to think, as he’s already moving, expecting you all to follow like obedient ducklings. “Mayor Park will be arriving in half an hour,” he explains hurriedly, his voice clipped with stress. It’s only now that you notice the small sweat beads on his temple and neck, his white dress shirt turning translucent under his arms. “The press will be here as well, so be prepared for a spectacle. Mayor Park is here to meet you all, give some motivational speech, and for the usual PR. It’s crucial that you present yourselves well. You’ll be representing the university, so do not embarrass us! Go grab your lab coats and make yourselves look respectable. We’ll meet back at the main building in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, you hear me—no later!”

“Yes, Dean Yoon,” comes the collective response, though it’s more out of habit than genuine respect.

As the dean disappears down the hallway, the group begins heading towards the autopsy building to retrieve your lab coats. There’s some tension hanging over the group, though everyone seems to handle it differently.

“This is such a waste of time,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walks beside you. “Like any of us care about some politician showing up to stroke his own ego.”

Jennie chuckles softly, flicking her hair over her shoulder, grazing your face as she walks before you. “It’s all for show. He doesn’t care about us either. We’re just props to make him look good in front of the press.”

“Props in lab coats,” Hoseok adds with a laugh. “But hey, free publicity, right?”

Jungkook is still smiling, his steps lighter than usual as he walks beside you as well. “I think it’s kinda cool. It’s not every day you get to meet Mayor Park, right? Maybe it’ll be fun.”

Yoongi gives him a pointed side-eye but doesn’t argue. Jennie just shrugs, her expression one of mild amusement as she looks over her shoulder, while Hoseok just grins, clearly not as bothered by the situation as Yoongi is. Taehyung, however, remains quiet, his usual playfulness subdued as he walks close behind you. You can feel his concern on your back, even though he says nothing, which you’re grateful for.

The enthusiastic conversation between Hoseok and Jungkook resumes all the way to the lab and while retreating your coats, but you stay quiet, lost in your own thoughts as you make your way to the autopsy building. The upcoming meeting with the mayor sits truly and utterly wrong with you, it disturbs your mind and peace, an unease that you can’t shake, making you restless, jumpy even. You hate not having control, especially when he’s involved, but you try to focus on the present, on the normalcy of walking with your friends, and preparing for nothing other than yet another tedious formality in your academic life. But it’s hard, the discomfort remains and clings to you like fluff to an old sweater.

The others still continue their conversation, Hoseok teasing Jungkook about his excitement, while Yoongi mutters something sarcastic about politics, but still, you just can’t seem to pay attention as the words fly over your head, your mind too preoccupied with the ominous feeling that’s been growing inside you since the dean’s arrival.

The walk back to the main building feels longer than it should, each step weighted down by the knowledge of what’s, or rather who’s waiting for you. As you near the entrance, the sight of the press setting up their cameras and microphones inside only heightens your unease. The dean is already there, waiting for you with a forced smile plastered on his face, his eyes darting between the clock and the approaching figure of Mayor Park’s entourage.

You all line up in a neat row inside the grand lobby of the main building, the sterile scent of freshly cleaned floors filling your senses, while the cameras are being prepped before you. The silence among you as you stand there doesn’t do much to make your thoughts clearer, every train of thought again and again broken off by the occasional shuffle of feet or the rustling of lab coats as you adjust yourselves into position. The others stand with varying degrees of interest and boredom, but you can’t seem to focus on yourself, can’t shake the consuming tension that’s been knotting tighter in your intestines since this fuss began.

Just as you get your breathing to even out, the grand doors swing open, and Mayor Park enters with a flourish, his well-tailored suit pristine under the lobby lights. He walks with a politician’s disgustingly practiced grace, his smile wide and calculated for the cameras now running. But your focus isn’t on the cameras. No—your gaze locks onto the three figures walking your way, your inner demon waking as if never slept to begin with.

The darkness spreads within you in milliseconds, making your skin prickle as your focus settles into one of a sniper. You’re eyes lock on Sangwook, his presence reminding you bitterly of the night you almost had part of your revenge, the night Pulse interrupted, the reason you’re still fighting this war at its beginning, still caught at the beginning of the shadows, still haunted by unfinished business. You can feel the darkness rising even more within you, clawing at your insides, hungry, restless like you’ve been the past half an hour.

But you force it down. Not here. Not now. Not with Jungkook standing beside you, not with your friends all around you, and certainly not with the press before you, cameras poised to capture every moment of this charade. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you bite back the urge to confront the devil and his companions. This isn’t the time for vengeance. You have to regain and stay in control. You have to keep up the act.

As Mayor Park steps forward to greet each of you in turn, offering hollow words of encouragement and praise, you school your expression into something neutral, something polite. But inside, the storm rages on, a battle between the light you’ve been trying so desperately to embrace and the darkness that has been your constant companion for so long. And when it’s your turn to shake Mayor Park’s hand, you can feel everyone's eyes on you, as if watching, waiting.

His hand lingers before you, PR-smile still fixed on his face, but his eyes—they are as empty as they were on that fateful night, void of anything possibly human. For a moment, you consider leaving him there, hand outstretched and waiting, watching the false warmth fade from his expression. But against your instincts, against your demon raging inside you, you reach out.

You clasp his hand strongly, calculating your movement, as your grip tightens deliberately around the base of his hand. And when for a millisecond his eyes flicker down to where your hands are joined, you know you’ve pressed the Ulnar nerve just right, sending sharp jolts of pain shooting through his pinky and ring finger, showing him that you did not break, that you rose from the ashes of the very flame he set to your family.

“It’s good to finally meet after all these years,” he says, his voice dripping with saccharine mockery. “Your father was such a loyal employee.”

The words, the false description of your father’s job, are poison, seeping into your veins, igniting the fury into a massive fireball that explodes under your skin. Loyal. A word meant to twist the knife deeper. You hold your smile, hollow and cold, a ghost of something real. Jungkook stands beside you, his confusion barely concealed as his gaze shifts between you, the mayor, and the tension between your clasped hands.

Dojin leans closer, tightening his grip, voice dropping to a near whisper as his disgusting perfume engulfs you. “You know, you look just like your mother. Truly angelic.”

Something inside you snaps. But the smile on your lips only widens, growing more hollow, more sinister. The words slither through your clenched teeth. “Funny, isn't it? It almost sounds like you’re seeking absolution in my resemblance to her. How quaint.” Your voice is laced with venom so sweet it almost passes as kindness.

For the briefest of moments, his smile falters, and beneath it, the rage—the same rage that lit up his eyes all those years ago—flares up, hot and visceral. But he masks it quickly, releasing your hand, and turns away to spout his lies to the press, painting the air with rehearsed phrases that drip with insincerity.

Jungkook leans in then, his voice soft but still filled with honest concern. "What was that?" His words are gentle, but his eyes are searching, trying to piece together the puzzle of your interaction.

You tilt your head slowly towards him, the smile still lingering on your lips, twisted and lunatic. “Just what it looked like,” you murmur, offering no more. The truth is buried too deep, and even if you tried, you know he wouldn’t understand the whole expanse of it all without disclosing everything. Sensing the wall you’ve built, or realising for the first time that there is one, Jungkook says nothing more, though you feel his eyes linger on you.

As the circus of an event winds down, the room empties, leaving behind nothing but the fading echoes of empty speeches. You drift with your friends towards the door, slipping back into the flow of meaningless chatter, though your mind remains miles away. Right before you step outside, you catch a fragment of the faint conversation of Dojin and his bodyguards, but it’s Jungkook who draws you back, his body shifting into your line of sight, blocking your view of the men who ruined you.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you ask, your voice distant, as if you’ve just returned from some far-off place.

Jungkook repeats himself, his tone gentle, patient. “I was asking if you’re okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you reply, the lie slipping easily off your tongue, though your mind screams otherwise. 'Save me,' you think, but Jungkook doesn’t hear what you cannot say, and instead, he watches you again for a beat longer, blinking in his concern. But eventually, he lets it go, leaving the darkness surrounding your mind in peace.

Standing before your closet, your fingers linger over hangers as you wrestle with a rising panic. The wardrobe, once a reliable collection of your well maintained comfort, now seems to mock you with its lack of options. It feels absurd, really—the way you’ve spent nearly an hour staring at clothes that have never failed you before. But this time, the stakes are higher. This isn’t just another day, another class, or another mindless hangout with friends. This is a date with Jungkook, and not just any date—your first real date. The thought sends your mind spinning in circles, reexamining every outfit with a critical eye that never seems satisfied.

You keep telling yourself you’re overthinking it, and maybe you are, but as the minutes slip by, your nerves cling tighter around your brain. A decision must be made, and eventually, as time conspires against you as well and forcing your hand to make a forsaken choice, you settle on something that has always made you feel like the best version of yourself—simple yet chic. The outfit flatters your silhouette just enough to remind you that beauty can be effortless when it’s honest, so you pull it on, check yourself in the mirror, and despite the chaos in your head, you can’t help but feel a spark of confidence. You might have just overthought your way into something that actually works—yey!

Makeup follows, the ritual of it calming your frayed nerves, brushstrokes turning anxious energy into something delicate and intentional. By the time you’re done, you hardly recognise the reflection staring back at you, though you’re not sure if that’s because of the makeup or the sight of yourself as you once were.

A knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts, and you take a deep breath, smoothing your outfit one last time before going to open the door. But when you pull it open, you’re not met with Jungkook's familiar face, not at first. Instead, an enormous bouquet of white hydrangeas and roses takes up most of the doorway, its sheer size almost comical in its grandeur.

Jungkook is barely visible behind it, but he leans to the side, a soft, tentative smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with a brightness that catches your breath so painfully good, you have to suppress a choke. You’ve seen him look at you countless times, but this time, there’s something different in his gaze—something that makes the air between you crackle with emotions never spoken of.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice light, almost playful.

Your face splits into a wide grin, the sight of him nearly lost behind the monstrous bouquet sending a ripple of giggles through you. “Kook, you really didn’t have to.” But even as you say it, you know how much it means. He always knows how to surprise you, how to make you feel cherished in ways that words sometimes fail to capture.

His smile softens, eyes sparkling as he steps forward, handing you the bouquet which you barely can engulf. “I wanted to,” he says simply, and there’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart beat just a little bit stronger. “You deserve the world and more.”

You stare at the flowers, your heart swelling as a few tears threaten to blur your vision. “I… I’m speechless, Kook. This is…” you laugh, your voice shaking just enough to betray the emotion within you. “But why this size? That’s so expensive!”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he watches you cradle the bouquet in your short arms. “I’ve seen you scrolling through Pinterest enough times to know what you like,” he teases.

The flush that creeps up your neck feels like a deep red now, your face burning as you attempt to play it off. You turn towards the kitchen, the flowers still balanced poorly in your arms. “I’m going to need a bigger vase for these,” you joke, though you’re already searching for a bucket, anything large enough to hold them.

Jungkook follows behind, his presence filling the small space of the dorm with warmth you didn’t know was missing. As you find a suitable bucket and begin filling it with water, you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His cheeks are flushed now, too, but it’s the way his eyes never stray from you that makes your heart flip. There’s something different about him tonight. He’s always been kind, always attentive, but now it feels like every glance carries weight, like there’s a depth to his affection that wasn’t there before, or maybe you just never noticed it as clearly until now.

And it’s true—you’ve had a fondness for oversized bouquets ever since that one evening, deep into Dojin’s election campaign, when your father came home later than promised. He had been swept up in the political race and, in the chaos, forgot to call ahead. Your mother, of course, wasn’t angry. She knew him well enough to recognise that his silence wasn’t intentional. Still, despite his exhaustion, your father returned the night after with a massive bouquet, much like the one Jungkook had just given you, though your father’s was overflowing with red roses.

“Here, let me help.” Jungkook steps up behind you, effortlessly lifting the now full bucket from the sink as though it weighs nothing. “Where should I put it?”

“My room,” you answer softly, already reaching for some wrapping paper to wrap around the bucket’s base. “I need to dress this up. I don’t want to ruin the aesthetic.”

Jungkook follows you to your room, heaving the bucket and flowers onto your desk while you immediately start wrapping around it. He spins lazily in your desk chair, making you giggle despite the nerves that still flutter within you. As you carefully tie a ribbon around the makeshift vase, your voice, hesitant and quiet, resonates through the silence and small space between you.

“So… why hydrangeas and roses?” you ask, casting a glance at him, curious to hear his reasoning.

Jungkook stops swirling, his feet grounding him as his cheeks flush with again with faint colour. “Ah, well… they reminded me of you,” he admits, his voice growing quieter with each word while his hands run up and down his thighs. “I mean, their meanings reminded me of you.”

Your fingers still against the ribbon as you turn to face him more fully, the question evident in your gaze. “Their meanings?” you repeat softly, not sure what to make of his answer.

Jungkook doesn’t look down, still his shyness intensifies. “White hydrangeas symbolise grace… and heartfelt emotions,” he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly. “And white roses… they represent purity, innocence… and new beginnings.”

You think you might faint at his words, your innocent self celebrating deep within you at the thought of a new beginning. Could this—what’s happening between you and Jungkook—be more than just a first date? Could it be the start of something new, something untouched by the darkness that has followed you for so long? You’ve spent so much time buried under the burden of your past, so much time chasing shadows and vengeance, that the idea of starting fresh feels almost foreign and too soon. But with Jungkook… maybe, just maybe, you could find a new way forward.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion as you reach for him. Jungkook takes your hand without hesitation, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours, and in their depths, you find something you never thought you’d feel again—hope.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook says quietly, pulling himself to his feet, his fingers still entwined with yours as you leave your dorm and walk off into the early night.

The restaurant Jungkook has chosen is familiar, a cozy little Italian place you’ve visited before with your friend group. But tonight, it feels different from all the times spent here. There’s a quiet intimacy to the way the lights cast an amber glow over the tables, and the soft strains of music seem to weave around the two of you, creating a cocoon that shields you from the rest of the world and everything that haunts you.

Jungkook pulls out your chair for you, a small gesture that makes your heart explode into confetti, making you fall for him deeper and deeper. His kindness isn’t new, but tonight, it feels magnified, every little thing he does carrying more weight than usual. As you both settle in, you can’t help but feel the shift in the air between you—the way it softly hums with something more than just friendship, something deeper and sweeter.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Jungkook begins as he picks up the menu, his eyes scanning the options but his attention clearly divided. “About how… you don’t always feel like you deserve nice things.”

You freeze for a moment, the words catching you off guard. You weren’t expecting him to bring it up again, especially not tonight. You’d mentioned it just this once, offhandedly, in a situation that felt light at the time, but apparently, Jungkook hadn’t forgotten.

“I just… I want you to know that you do,” he continues, his voice settling around you like a warm blanket. “You deserve so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

You smile, though it’s small, tentative, as you look down at the menu in your hands. It’s not easy to accept his words, not with the weight of your past still clinging to you like tar, but his sincerity makes it harder to dismiss them outright. He means what he’s saying—he truly believes you deserve more than the shadows you’ve been living in.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice quiet as you meet his loving gaze.

Jungkook nods, smile widening as he reaches across the table to take your hand. His touch is warm, grounding you in a way that makes you feel more present, more here. You’re not sure when you started feeling this way about him—when his presence became something that could chase away the darkness. But sitting here with him now, with his hand in yours, it feels like maybe this was meant to be all along.

The conversation flows easily after that, the two of you slipping into the familiar rhythm you’ve always shared, but there’s something new underneath it all, a current of something stronger, something that feels a little like the beginning of love. It’s in the way he smiles at you when you laugh, the way his fingers linger against yours when he hands you the bread basket, the way his eyes soften into puddles of shining stars when you catch him staring at you across the table.

"It does feel different, doesn’t it?" you ask, fingers playing with the edge of your napkin.

"Yeah," he says, leaning forward slightly. "But good different."

You nod, letting your gaze fall to the candle flickering between you. "It does. We’ve been here so many times. But it—" You pause, smiling softly. "It feels special tonight."

Jungkook grins, cheeks flushed as he glances at the menu. "So, tell me something I don’t know about you."

You bite your lip, thinking. "Well, my childhood was... complicated." You choose your words carefully, keeping the truth buried beneath layers of vague recollections. "My parents, they passed away when I was a teen."

He looks up from the menu, his expression gentle. "I read about that fire. I didn’t want to bring it up... I’m really sorry."

You offer him a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. "It’s okay. My mom was cooking dinner that night... things just went wrong." The words are light, brushed off like the remnants of a distant memory. You’re careful not to let him see the truth that festers beneath.

He nods slowly, his gaze searching yours. "And after... you lived with Taehyung?"

"Yes," you say, exhaling a soft breath. "His family took me in. We’ve been close ever since childhood." You lift your glass, taking a small sip before continuing. "And now... here I am, med school and all."

Jungkook chuckles lightly. "You're amazing, you know that? Everything you've been through... and you're still standing strong."

You meet his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you, something fragile but blooming despite the faul soil. "Thank you. How about you?"

“My childhood? It was… pretty normal, I guess. My parents were always around, super protective. Especially my mom. She used to hover a lot,” he says with a soft laugh, a warm, nostalgic smile spreading across his face. “She’d always pack me lunch, even in high school. And not just a sandwich or something small. I’m talking full-on bento boxes, with little designs in the food. It was kind of embarrassing back then, but now I look back and miss it, you know?”

“Oh, I can tell, you’re still eating like a bottomless pit.” You joke, knowing he likes it when you’re this playful.

He glances at you then, you expect him to laugh with you, but his smile is dimming a little as he continues. “My dad… he was strict, but he just wanted the best for me. Pushed me hard, made sure I always had something to work towards. But… I was a bit of a handful,” he admits with a grin. “I think I drove them crazy sometimes, always running around, never sitting still. My older brother had it together, but me? I just wanted to do everything at once.”

“That’s totally normal, Kook, don’t beat yourself up for this.” You reach for his hand, cradling it to soothe any doubt he has in himself.

His gaze softens as he shrugs, almost shy. “They gave me a lot, though. Support, love… I was really lucky.” He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours after staring at your joint hands. “But I didn’t always appreciate it back then. You know how it is when you’re young… you don’t really see everything they do for you until you’re older.”

“Yeah.” You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to stir the conversation away from this heavy topic. You appreciate his honesty, you really do, but it’s the bitter taste of you holding back the truth, that blocks your thoughts from forming.

Thankfully, Jungkook leans back in his chair, his expression softening as he studies you. "So, what do you like? I mean, aside from making everyone in class jealous with your grades?"

You laugh, a genuine sound that cuts through your mind’s fog. "I like simple things, really. Music, books, late-night walks... And you?"

"I’m pretty much the same. Music, of course... and working out, boxing. But I’m guessing you already know that," he adds with a sheepish grin. "It helps me clear my mind, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that," you reply, nodding. "Sometimes, you need something to take the edge off. For me, it’s those cute kitten videos."

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow. "I didn’t know that."

You shrug. "Well, now you do."

He smiles, a tender smile that makes you want to capture it like a polaroid. "I like learning things about you."

You return his smile without a beat, your heart light and singing as you say "And I like sharing them with you." And the conversation doesn’t seem to crease after that.

By the time the meal is over, you’re both lingering in your seats, reluctant to let the night end. You know you’ll have to return to your dorm eventually, but for now, you’re content to stay in this moment a little longer, to savour the warmth that fills the space between you.

As Jungkook walks you back to your dorm, the night cool against your flushed skin, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this way—since you’ve allowed yourself to feel this way. And as you reach your door, turning to face him, you realise that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something good.

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence swirls around you, but it’s not uncomfortable, filled with all the things you want to say but don’t quite know how to express. He steps closer, his hand finding yours once again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. But instead, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, the gesture so sweet, so tender, that it makes your heart ache in the best possible way.

“Goodnight, ___,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“Goodnight,” you reply softly, your voice barely more than a breath.

As you watch him take a step back, your heart feels light, full in a way it hasn’t been in years. There’s still so much you don’t know—so much uncertainty about what the future holds—but for the first time in a long time, you feel hopeful. Maybe this is just the beginning, but it feels like a good one.

As Jungkook walks away backwards, still smiling at you, still reluctant to let the night end, something shifts within you, and it’s like the light that forced your brightness within you to shine in its full force, dims with every step he takes, taking it and all the warmth with him as if it always was his to begin with. The smile on your face turns brittle, plastic, and a hollow sensation settles in your chest. Behind the mask of sweetness and light that you’ve worn for the evening, the impatience of the demon within you grows, gnawing forcefully at the edges of your control. The demon magnifies, stretching and clawing, until all remnants of joy and happiness dissolve into the endless void aching for revenge.

You step inside your dorm, and as the door clicks shut, the smile falls from your lips like a discarded veil at a wedding. You waste no time, and strip off the clothes that made you feel beautiful just moments ago and replace them with the black gear you’ve come to associate with your truth and fate.

Something inside you flips, like a switch toggled into place, and just like that, you’re gone—no longer the person who had been with Jungkook at dinner, no longer the person who basked in his warmth. You’re someone else now. Someone darker. Someone deadly. There’s no joy left. No happiness. Only a singular, burning purpose that consumes everything else. The void inside you aches for release, for the satisfaction of revenge, and it’s all you can feel now.

You begin to prepare methodically, stretching your muscles and joints, warming your body for what the night demands from you. You remember the conversation you overheard between Dojin and his stupid bodyguards—Chulsoo will be alone tonight. The thought lingers. You wanted to start with Sangwook, to make him the first, but maybe fate is offering you a different path. Maybe this is a sign that Chulsoo, taller and stronger though he may be, is meant to go first. It doesn’t matter in the end; they will all fall. Every last one of them.

You slip out of your dorm and move through the neighbourhood, undetected, a shadow among shadows. It’s a path you know well, the routine of it bringing you a twisted kind of joy. The city’s pulse begins to pick up as you near the bustling nightlife, where buildings stretch higher into the sky and people crowd the streets, oblivious to the darkness lurking in their midst. You stick to the alleyways, your steps light, your movements fluid, until you reach the first landmark—an alley beside a Chinese restaurant.

You pull yourself up onto the trash bins outside, the narrowness of the space making it easier to scale the walls like you’ve done countless times before. From there, it’s a series of practiced motions—small leaps from one rooftop to the next, each building taller than the last as you make your way toward your destination.

At last, you arrive at the balcony of Chulsoo’s office, your landing soft and graceful, almost feline in its silence. The city buzzes far below, but up here on this skyscraper, it’s eerily quiet. The office is dark except for the dim night lighting of the building, casting long shadows across the room as if painted with charcoal. You glance around to make sure no one is near, your senses tuned to the slightest disturbance. The night is lonely, just as you’d hoped.

You slip behind one of the balcony posts, peering inside through the glass. The office’s low lighting is enough to spot what you came for. There, seated at Dojin’s desk, is Chulsoo. He’s lounging in the chair with his feet propped up on the desk, watching a football game on his phone. The back of him faces you, his attention completely absorbed in the small screen.

You test the sliding door’s lock silently, and to your satisfaction, it moves without resistance. Unlocked. Another careless mistake on his part, another beautiful wrapped gift to you. The door opens just enough for you to slip inside, the noise of the city creeping in faintly, but he doesn’t hear it. He’s wearing earphones—his second mistake. It feels like luck is on your side tonight, but you know better than to trust in fortune. You’ve come too far for that.

The demon inside you snarls in anticipation, laughing menacingly as you creep up behind Chulsoo. You catch your reflection in the darkened screen of Dojin’s computer—the mask you wear, its smile wide and empty, mirroring the cold emptiness and lunacy within you. Childhood remains oblivious, lost in the game playing on his phone, unaware of the storm about to descend upon him.

In one swift motion, you lock your arms around his throat, pulling him into a headlock. His phone slips from his hand, clattering to the floor with a broken screen. His body reacts instinctively, muscles straining against yours as he thrashes. But it’s his feet—still propped on the desk—that give him the leverage he needs. With a powerful push, he throws himself backward, sending both of you tumbling to the ground. You hit the floor hard, the weight of his body crashing into yours, pinning your legs awkwardly beneath the chair.

But you only grit your teeth against it, refusing to let it slow you down. Chulsoo wrestles to free himself from your grip, and you dig your elbow into his front, trying to regain the upper hand. He’s taller than you, stronger, and he uses his size to his advantage, rolling over in your hold to straddle you, his hands finding your throat in an instant. You twist beneath him, trying to slip free, your body burning with the effort as your vision starts to blur.

You manage to kick the chair out from between you, throwing his balance off just enough to create an opening. In a flash, you’re on your feet again, lunging for him. The fight spills out of the office, your bodies colliding with walls and furniture as you grapple for control. Everything happening all at once—punches and kicks, blocks and dodges, the sound of grunts and gasps echoing through the empty office space. Chulsoo grabs a heavy glass ashtray from the desk, swinging it wildly at your head. You duck just in time, the ashtray shattering against the wall behind you.

He’s relentless, coming at you with the kind of brute force that could only come from someone used to winning fights by sheer size and strength alone. But you’re quicker, more agile. Every time he lands a blow, you counter it with something sharper, something faster. The office transforms into a battlefield, chaos reigning as desks are overturned, chairs sent crashing to the floor, papers swirling in the air like torn shreds of white flags that will never be surrendered. The metallic tang of blood fills your mouth where one of his punches grazed your lip, but you taste it with satisfaction, the pain fuelling your determination even further.

Chulsoo grabs you by the collar, throwing you towards the door that leads to the staircase. You crash into it with a heavy thud, the impact sending the door flying open, while feeling your joints blocking through your back and ribs. A low “Uff” escapes your lips as you hit the railing behind you, the cold metal biting into your spine. But there’s no time to catch your breath—Chulsoo charges at you, full force, his eyes wild with the intent to finish you off.

At the last second, you spin out of his path, and he crashes into the railing with a sickening thud. He staggers, dazed, and you seize the opportunity, wrapping your arm around his throat from behind yet again, pulling him into another chokehold. You tighten your grip, feeling the demon within you thrashing against the cage of your control, hungry for the kill. You could end him right here, with your bare hands. It would be easy. It would be satisfying. But something goes wrong.

Chulsoo’s foot slips against the slick floor, his balance faltering. Before you can tighten your hold, he stumbles backward, his body teetering dangerously over the edge of the railing. His eyes widen in panic as he tries to grab hold of something, anything, to stop his fall. But there’s nothing to hold onto.

With a final scream, he tips over the railing, his body plummeting into the abyss below. The sound of his fall echoes through the stairwell, punctuated by the sickening thud of his body hitting the railings on the way down. You watch, frozen, as his limp form finally crashes to the ground below, a twisted heap of flesh, bone and blood.

This isn’t how you wanted it to end.

The rage that fills you is immediate and scorching. The demon inside you roars, seething with frustration, its hunger again left unsatisfied. This was supposed to be precise, fucking controlled. You were supposed to kill him with your own hands, not let him fall like some clumsy idiot. This… this is unsatisfying to all end. Again.

You grip the cold metal of the railing with white-knuckled fury, your mind spinning with barely contained rage that courses through your veins. Every inch of you aches for release, for some way to expel the unforgiving heat that burns beneath your skin. But there’s no outlet. There’s only the hollow victory of Chulsoo’s broken body far below.

The door behind you creaks open, and you feel him before you even turn around.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to school your expression. When you finally turn, your face masks, twisted into a smile that never reaches your eyes—a smile that could only belong to someone who no longer cares.

Pulse stands there, his eyes wide with shock as he surveys the scene. He knows immediately that he’s too late. His shoulders slump, the weight of his failure settling over him like a shroud. You can see the realisation dawning in his eyes—he’s failed to stop you this time.

Without a care, you walk towards him, your steps slow and. Graceful where no grace is found. He watches you approach, his gaze searching for something—an explanation, perhaps, or a hint of remorse. But there’s nothing for him to find. You’re empty. The void inside you yawns wider.

As you pass him, you glance up at him with that same twisted smile, teeth painted in your own blood and murmur, “You’re too late, Dulls. Try harder next time, yeah?” You give his chest a light pat, a condescending gesture that only deepens the devastation in his eyes.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t react. He just watches you disappear into the night, unsatisfied and unseen as you came, leaving nothing behind but the wreckage of your vengeance.

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • masterlist • 05

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like! And to spice things up even more, we'll do a little game through the story:

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @jksusawife, @jayhoneybeecomb, @kookienooki, @hagridshaircare

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imisscherryboy-blog · 1 year ago

Text

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers - football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 1 part 3

spotify playlist (it’s good i swear)

3k words…………….💀

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven't been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: !mature themes! (no smut) enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, part 2/3, gn reader, ajax is bi (since it’s gn), alhaitham and kaveh are gay, tbh kaveh kinda ooc imo, ajax is a bad boy ⛓️🥀 california coded

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh), mona, albedo

warnings: mature themes, themes of sexual harassment (not described), reader almost gets kidnapped, drugs, alcohol, smoking, swearing, reader tells childe to kys (satire we in love w him)

★ part 2 of an ongoing series ★

ajax and his mom’s car drove further and further from the empty school. it was 11pm now, and you made your way back to the field to help clean up. the walk to the football field among the poorly lit school lights filled you with a sense of nostalgia—akin to how you first felt when you met ajax. you were snapped out of your thoughts as you saw kaveh jogging toward you.

“hey—you okay? what took so long?”

“oh boy.” this was gonna be a long night.

you drove kaveh and yourself to a nearby denny’s to debrief. you ordered pancakes and kaveh ordered probably the most, intricate, dish on the menu. over sharing food, you two both explained what happened while separated. you went first in retelling the events of taping him up to meeting his mom.

“he’s definitely not over you.” kaveh said taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

“dude, i feel like that’s such a mom thing to say though.” you argued.

“oh yeah my son talks about you 24/7 even though you haven’t talked in years!! let’s be serious y/n.” kaveh always knew had to make you laugh.

“i’ll think about it… but i wanna know what happened with you and alhaitham.” you tried to move the conversation away from yourself.

“you will never in a million years guess what happened.” kaveh said, loudly whispering.

“okay, so i won’t guess. what happened?”

“he gave me his number.” he said as his hands flew up to his face. “i’m still in shock.”

“oh my god.” you said, almost in disbelief.

“and that’s not all.. he invited me.. to a party. his party.” at this point, kaveh was practically standing up.

“don’t even lie..” you said.

“oh i’m not lying.” he took out his phone and showed an imessage thread of alhaitham sending kaveh a date and time, along with an address. your hands covered your mouth. he was serious. “and you’re coming with me.”

“yeah right.”

“oh, you’ll be there alright.”

you were there alright. the two of you stood outside the large house, viewing the students and strangers scattered across the lawn. it had been two weeks since the incident with ajax. not a word had been exchanged since then. but you cared more about kaveh, who has always been there for you, than some now stranger that presumably hates you. so you decided to accompany him. ajax and alhaitham were close, so you knew damn well you’d be in for a long night.

“well.. my future boyfriend is waiting inside. let’s go.” kaveh said as you both walked inside. it was a big house to say the least. alhaitham’s parents were some high ranking officials for the state school board, so they had money—and the ability to pull strings at any school they pleased.

“these high ceilings… and oh my god these exposed beams..” kaveh started to ramble on about the architecture of the house. he was into that stuff. you just nodded your head and pretended like you understood. you two walked to the drink table, and you both took a shot of pink whitney (it was disgusting) and a hard seltzer as a chaser.

“’m glad you guys made it.” an unfamiliar voice could be heard behind the two of you before you turned around. it was alhaitham.

“hi alhaitham!” kaveh sounded a little too happy. you also said hi and let the two of them go. you didn’t want to third wheel so you talked to some friends that were also at the party.

you couldn’t find ajax, though.

you hated that he was the first person you wanted to look for in this crowded room.

you figured he was off with someone, but nonetheless continued to keep and eye out for him, to steer clear of him, of course.

“and i just knew off the bat he was a scorpio.” your friend in your government class, mona, said as she took a sip of her drink.

“you’re so talented.” another friend of your’s, albedo added.

“if he was a cancer, it’d be a whole other story. everyone likes cancers..” she trailed off.

ajax was a cancer.

“hey y/n, let’s go take another shot.” mona suggested. “you down?”

“sure.” you figured saying no would leave you alone. albedo followed the two of you. after a couple of shots, mona kept talking.

“weren’t you the one that went with ajax after his last game?” mona’s question snapped you out of your daze.

“oh, yeah. that was me.” you explained.

“you didn’t hear it from me, but ajax’s fan club kinda hates you now..” well that was great. you didn’t even do anything.

“oh for real?”

“mhm, i even heard you two go way back.” albedo added. how would anyone know that..? let alone care that much? you thought to yourself.

“who’d you hear it from?” you asked.

“i heard two girls talking about it in econ.” albedo nonchalantly said.

“oh.”

in that moment, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you. you looked to the right of albedo’s head and saw ajax leaning against the wall, beside another guy. the guy was looking at him and talking, but it seemed like the only thing he was focused on was you. he took a sip from his red solo cup as you both held contact for maybe a second, before he looked away. it seemed he was already staring at you.

“y/n?” mona said.

“oh, sorry. why don’t we take another shot?” you suggested. something in you wanted to forget about him for a little bit to relieve yourself of the jealousy you felt. you knew that guy was his next victim, and it made you upset that that’s the person he’s become.

you, albedo, and mona took more shots after that. mona was gone by that point, and you were pretty sure you were drunk. luckily for you, you weren’t too much of a talker when you got drunk, you just felt dizzy and tired.

“i think we should go, mona. you need to sleep.” albedo said as he ushered a tipsy mona out of the door. you said your byes and stood at the steps of the house, watching them leave. you shouted a small “text me when you’re home” to which albedo nodded. you checked your phone for the time. it was 11pm now. you figured you should go find kaveh.

you walked along the twisty halls of alhaitham’s house. it felt like everything was spinning. you just wanted to sleep. you couldn’t go home unless you found kaveh. you didn’t want to leave him, and he’d understand if you wanted to go home. you recalled you didn’t see ajax after only seeing him for a second. maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but you felt as if you were being watched. you didn’t know by who, though.

you ended up in the living room again. you sat down on the large couch next to a couple making out, keeping your distance. you put your hands on your face, rubbing your eyes and trying to stay awake. you kept telling yourself that you needed to find kaveh, but every passing second made you feel more and more tired. a short nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

and just like that, you fell asleep on the end of the couch. you would admit it’d be kinda embarrassing to fall asleep at a party like a little kid, but you couldn’t help it. you were in a daze, half asleep and half awake. you could still hear the loud music, but your body was asleep. you saw two blurry figures in front of you.

“let’s take them …”

“my house? …”

“let’s go …”

what we’re they talking about? maybe they were talking to each other. why were they looking at you though? all of a sudden, you felt yourself being lifted up by the two guys. you honestly thought it was kaveh trying to get you back home, but he wasn’t that big. you felt yourself leaning against one of the guy’s arms, as the other one held you up. you felt yourself heading for the door before another guy stopped you.

“fuck are you guys doing?” a familiar voice said.

“oh—they’re our friend. they had a little too much to drink.” the two guys laughed. that was when you realized those two men were indeed not your friends but probably two low lifes trying to take advantage of you.

“y/n you know these guys?” the voice asked you. you nodded your head ‘no’ in response. you felt yourself being pried off by the person in front of you.

“who do you think you are? huh?” the guy that was trying to kidnap you said loudly. you had a headache now. all you could feel was a warm arm around you, and your head resting on.. ajax?

“who even are you two?” you heard alhaitham’s voice now. when those two guys carried you, they felt way too big to be high schoolers, college students?

“that’s none of your fucking business. get the fuck out of our way.” one of the two guys said. you felt a hand grab for you before ajax pulled you away from them.

“it is my business dipshit, i’m the owner of this house.” alhaitham retorted. by now, there was a small crowd around the five of you.

“alhaitham take y/n upstairs, i’ll deal with them.” ajax said as you felt alhaitham after a couple seconds pick you up with ease. usually, you’d be up and well awake by now, but that pink whitney had you paralyzed. you wanted to just say you could walk, but if you did, you’d probably collapse on the spot. contrary to some beliefs, alhaitham wasn’t a bad guy. kaveh liked him for a reason. he wouldn’t jump from girl to boy like ajax did. he carried you up the stairs and stopped in front of a room, before muttering something to himself.. about kaveh? then walking to another room and placing you on a bed, before immediately leaving, shutting the door behind him. you looked around the room before falling asleep. needless to say, it was a really nice room. it had a balcony and a big tv. it was a good size and the bed was pretty comfortable. there was a sports duffel bag on a chair that had your school’s logo on it. there wasn’t any equipment in it, just clothes. were you in alhaitham’s room? you looked a little closer and saw a hoodie laid out on the edge of the bed. it had your school’s name and the number 11 on it.

number 11?

why would ajax’s hoodie be here?

your headache only got worse, especially after almost getting kidnapped. you could heard the commotion downstairs, most likely ajax trying to get those two college guys out of the party. you slowly drifted to sleep.

after what felt like a couple hours, you woke up. you felt severely hungover but you tried to ignore it. it was still dark outside, and the room was cold. too cold. you picked up your phone that was on the charger and saw the time, 4:00 am. you had a couple of notifications but none of them were from kaveh. wait, you didn’t plug your phone in before going to sleep? who plugged it in?

“sleep well?” a voice could be heard from the balcony. the door was wide open, and you looked over. ajax stood at the door to the balcony with a cigarette in his hand, wearing that same hoodie you saw before going to sleep.

“no—what’re you doing here?” you said as you rubbed your eyes, slowly getting up.

“alhaitham had the bright idea to put you in my room.”

oh.

you were in ajax’s room.

“sorry.” you said. it went quiet for a minute. “you shouldn’t be smoking.” you pointed out.

“it’s either this or the oxycontin they prescribed me.” you’d much rather have him smoking a cigarette then.

you were sitting on up on the bed now. you needed to get kaveh and go home. you still were processing the events from last—a couple hours ago.

“you kept saying my name in your sleep..” ajax said blowing a puff of smoke outside.

there was absolutely no way. you felt your face heating up, were you actually??

“just kidding.” he ghosted the smoke.

“genuinely kill yourself.” why’d you believe him so easily? that would’ve been the worst thing to happen to you that night. after almost getting kidnapped. “where’s kaveh?” you asked.

“he’s out, alhaitham’s room.”

oh my god.

you’d need to debrief again with kaveh later.

“where’s alhaitham’s room? i’m taking him and going home.” you stated as you began to look for your belongings.

“how’re you getting home?” ajax asked.

“uber.” you said.

“like an uber’s gonna accept your ride at four in the morning.”

“you gonna drive me then?”

“if it comes down to it, yeah.” why was he being.. nice?

“you shouldn’t be coming to these kind of things if you leave yourself this vulnerable.” ajax said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “you haven’t changed, y/n.”

“well you sure have.” you said under your breath.

“grow up, y/n. just because you’re stuck in the past doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing that i’ve changed.” he had a point, but you’d never say that. “we’ll never be those kids again.”

you chuckled, “at least i can stick to one person. it doesn’t seem like you’re very good at that.”

“who? you can stick to who?”

you. that’s what you wanted to say. that’s what he wanted to say, too.

“nobody—just tell me where alhaitham’s room is.” you wanted to leave. remember how you thought he was being nice?

“down the hall on your right.” ajax said, walking back to the balcony. it felt like talking to a stranger.

you followed his instructions and arrived at the door. should you knock? or just go in really slowly? you put your ear against the door, trying to listen for any, sounds you wouldn’t exactly want to hear. it sounded quiet. you reached for the door handle and slowly pushed down, but it stopped there. it was locked. you cursed kaveh in your head, once again that night. you heard ajax’s agitating, grating voice down the hall, laughing. you just rolled your eyes and tried texting kaveh.

“y/n, it’s not gonna work. just wait until morning and you guys can uber back together.” he had a point. what was a couple more hours? at least you wouldn’t be leaving kaveh either, but you’d be stuck with ajax. that’s not something you really wanted, but it was for kaveh.

“do you have any food?”

you and ajax ended up in the kitchen, eating cereal. you pushed the cinnamon toast crunch around in your bowl as you sat at the island. ajax was in front of you, pouring himself out more cereal. it was quiet for the most part. one thing about the two of you was that you’d both be too scared to be the first to do anything. but that was a long time ago.

“how’s your knee?” you made some attempt at making conversation.

“recovering. what’s it to you?” of course he just had to say something that would piss you off.

“absolutely nothing.” you responded, taking a bite of the cereal. “did you fight those college guys?”

“oh yeah the ones that tried to abduct you and you just let them?”

that pissed you off. it wasn’t your fault, if anything, it was whoever let them in.

“if you did fight them i hope they beat the shit out of you.”

“maybe you should learn how to be more careful at parties. also another reason why you shouldn’t even be here.” he retorted.

“you’re such a bitch, you know that? i came with kaveh because i’m actually a good friend. it’s not like you ever were.”

“don’t start with that shit y/n.” he looked angry now. “i saved your ass and i don’t even get a thank you?”

“thank you. happy?” ajax’s phone started buzzing, it was closer to you than to him, so you saw the text messages.

myqb😘: kaveh’s w me

myqb😘: you should talk to y/n while you have the chance 🤑

myqb😘: and help me clean my goddamn house

that’s all you saw before he took his phone back. what the fuck was with the emoji? and the name?? ajax texted him and laid his phone screen down now. he didn’t see you reading the messages. you and ajax have argued twice in one night, you started to remember why you two aren’t friends anymore. you put your hands on your head, rubbing your forehead. you felt your headache coming back.

“what’s wrong with you?” his look softened a little when he saw your face.

“nothing. just hungover.” you responded.

“you need painkillers?” it was like he read your mind.

“i’ll take some if you have any.” you admitted.

“i got opioids, cigarettes, and tylenol. your pick.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“tylenol.” you said.

“you sure?” he asked. you nodded your head in response. he went upstairs to go get your pain killers. why was he doing this? his face when he saw you in pain made your heart melt. why did it seem like he still gave a fuck about you? more like you two both gave a fuck about each other. you started thinking. you helped him out, and he’s helping you. your headache only got worse.

-> part 3

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