#Young Dumb and Broken AU

[get-infectious]

he just a baby

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

GUARDIAN GLOVES (M)

★  PAIRING: Boxer! Jeno x Reader 

☆ WORD COUNT: 12k

★ GENRE(S): Brother’s Bestfriend AU, Childhood Friend AU?, Smut

☆ SUMMARY:  No matter how badly you want to start over, your rebellious past follows you to college, and you can't run from it forever Your brother Jaemin was your rock growing up, but now that he has left for an out-of-state university, he can no longer save you. You do not want to burden your brother's best friend, but he might be the only one who can save you from the person of your past who refuses to let you go.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, fighting, harassment, and stalking, mentions of violence, guns and drugs, abusive relationships.

☆★ NOTES: Read with caution, please; some scenes can be intense. Leave nice comments, please <3 

It was a mistake; you knew it was a mistake; your brother and friends both told you so. Now, due to the enormous amounts of red flags you have ignored, you have found yourself in some hot water. What can you say? Love makes you blind.

“You cant keep putting up with this! We need to do something,” your friend Ryujin stressed “This has been going on for too long; im scared something serious might happen” You were worried that wrinkles might form from how much shes been furrowing her brow.

“Im fine! Its not even that serious, ok? Just drop it,” you say, sitting on your bed with your head buried in your hands as your roommate paced the dorm room. You had never seen her so upset. 

“No! I will not sit here while my best friend gets harassed! We need to report this!”

“We are NOT reporting this ryu; that will only make things worse.” you sigh before sitting back to look your friend dead in the eyes

“He pushed you down the stairs!?” 

“It was a mistake!”

You met Yuta during your junior year of high school. He was your typical run-of-the mill bad boy; he skipped classes, hung out late, and got high. You knew he was trouble, but that was what you wanted. You grew up rebellious; you were young and dumb. You just wanted attention, and hanging with the wrong crowd got you plenty. You felt unstoppable when you were with Yuta and his crew. When Yuta would parade you around school in your too-short skirt and pretty long legs, you felt special; you felt wanted. Your friends hated him, and they hated what you became. You didn’t listen to their warnings, and you stuck around. 

You stuck around even when skipped classes turned into stolen cars and the weed highs turned into selling. You were stupid to think you could keep up with his lifestyle. You just wanted to piss your family off. You were used to bad boys, but Yuta was something else. 

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself “Look, he's clearly getting bold; I'm afraid he’ll seriously hurt you!” 

“Please, drop it,” you beg in exhaustion. Its been a long day. You had classes all day, and with your yuta problem, you found yourself getting tired a lot faster. You had to turn in his class work on top of yours, which resulted in more time spent in the library. You had been getting home later and later. 

“What about Jaemin? Have you told him? You know he would do anything for you.”

Your brother left for college the year before you. You couldn't ask him to fight your battles  anymore. He got a full ride and was off in another state, living his life, while you were at home bawling your eyes out over the fact that the heartbreaking bad boy broke your heart. 

You had finally broken up with Yuta when you realized he was cheating on you. You should have seen it coming, honestly, The day you checked his phone and found the messages, he didnt even try to pretend like he cared. He had been talking to several other girls while he was with you. You felt so stupid, and that was your last straw. Let us just say he was not happy about it, and he and his friends have been harassing you since.

“That's exactly why I can't tell him; I don't need him flying out just to take care of my issues; I can handle them on my own. He's got his own life; he can't afford any more distractions.”

Your brother was practically your hero growing up. Whenever you were in trouble, he was by your side to protect you. Even though he was really only your stepbrother, he didn’t love you any less. You would always be his little sister.

 Jaemin had been in and out of the boxing ring for years. Bad boyfriends weren't anything new to you or him; he was the one who typically kept them in check. You were the main reason he picked up fighting; he knew, as your older brother, it was his job to protect you, and he would do it to his last breath. He tried to warn you about Yuta, but you didn't listen. You knew he would drop anything if it meant coming to your aid, but you couldn't ask that of him. 

You also know he would never let you live it down. 

You thought once high school was over, you would finally be able to escape Yuta’s torment, but he followed you to your new school. Your brother warned you about him, and now he's not here to protect you anymore. 

"Ok, what about Jeno?” She states hesitantly,

“Absolutely NOT!” you scowl, throwing yourself back into the sheets to hide under the covers

“Yes! Jaemin literally told you to go to him if you need anything! He probably knew you would be too proud to contact him if you were in trouble.”

You sit back up and throw the covers off of you. “It’s not his problem! I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out, ok?” you state firmly

"Fine, you know what fine, its getting late I’m heading to bed…but I swear if he—”

"Ok, Ryujin, thanks really,” you say sincerely. You could never be mad at Ryujin; she was only looking out for you, and you knew she meant well. For all that it was worth, you knew she would always have your back. She would run head-first into battle for you.

You could definitely be mad at Ryujin. In fact, you've been upset for the last hour.

She promised a surprise for you; she said she wanted to take you somewhere to take your mind off of the whole Y*ta situation. Honestly, you were grateful to be getting out of the house; you had been limiting yourself to only going to classes. You were trying your hardest to not run into him. 

You make sure to dress prettily. You were just too excited to finally have a reason to dress up again. You were so excited, you didn't even blink at the all-too-familiar signs and buildings as Ryujin pulled into the parking lot of a run-down boxing gym.

It's not until you have walked into the threshold and over to the rusty sideline benches that you feel overdressed and out of place. Your eyes scan the room, and everything feels so familiar yet out of place that you feel stupid for not realizing sooner.

As your eyes take in the old tattered banners and boxing ring, you realize you were walked blind into your brother's old gym. He and Jeno used to come here all the time to spar and train. This place used to run official matches and business, but it went bankrupt and had to close. Now it was just a place that hosted underground fighting. 

You knew what this was about, and you were upset that Ryujin fooled you into coming. You crossed your arms protectively over your chest, and you had hungry eyes staring at you from each angle.

“You...are... insane,” you hissed at her in anger after you two got settled in your seats. 

“And you are a coward. I'm sorry I lied Ok, but we need his help,” she contests

“You just walked me into a den full of hungry wolves. We're gonna need a lot more than help now!” You whisper harshly.

"Oh, come on, you know jeno’s not gonna let anything happen to you”

It was as if saying his name aloud summoned him; the next thing you know, he is in the ring.

You can't help but hold your breath at the sight. He had grown since the last time you saw him, and you didn't even think that was possible. His face was more refined and sculpted, and his arms were toned with muscles. His shoulders would have had you drooling if it weren’t for the perdicament you were in. They were broad and covered in cuts and bruises, much like the rest of his body. His body relaxes as he shakes away his nerves. He was standing in one corner of the ring, while his opponent stood menacingly at the other end. You think you hear the announcer call out his name—was it Jaehyung? Jaehyoon? Something like that.

You try to duck your head, not wanting to be seen, but you stand out like a sore thumb. As Jeno finished up his quick stretches, his eyes somehow wandered to you. First comes shock, then confusion, and as he rakes his eyes over your outfit, he’s overcome with anger.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

You could hear the scolding now…

”it's too cold to be wearing that”

“it's too dangerous for you to be here”

“This isn't some show; don't bring your friends here”

It wasn't even your fault you were here! You already knew he was not going to hear any of that, though.

He fixes you with a stare that says, “We’ll talk later,” and you groan in annoyance.

Before you can even open your mouth to give Ryujin another piece of your mind, the match begins and draws your attention back to the ring.

Jeno sizes up his opponent as they circle each other, looking for openings. His opponent, Jae Something, was twice his size, and honestly, you were a little afraid for Jenos sake. Jae was inpatient and struck first. Jenos weaves left and holds his guard strong. Jeno played the defense; he was patient, and you find that his fighting style was the mirror opposite of his personality. Even though Jeno had a tendency to lose his temper, it was fascinating to watch him change when he stepped into the ring. He moved with poise and thoughtfulness at every turn. 

Jenos patience rewarded him and he saw an opening In his opponents gaurd. He struck Jae, causing him to stumble back on unsecure footing. This allowed jeno to push his opponent back and switch to offense. Jae was already worn out, and Jeno used this to his advantage, knocking him down and out after hounding him with jabs and hooks.

Jeno was an endurance fighter; his goal wasn't to win through brutality but by outlasting his opponent in a fight.

You were amazed at how far he had come. He was a skilled fighter, as he always had been, but now, after years of honing his craft, you could see he was nothing like the boy you knew before.

The match was over and you were brought back to reality as you realized just what kind of scene you were in. This was an illegal boxing match, and now that it was over, the illegal part really started to stand out. Bets had been placed on the matches before hand and were now being fulfilled. Money was being passed around, and some exchanges even turned aggressive. You knew Jeno had probably wanted you to stick around for your lashings, but this was your queue to get the fuck out of there. You grab Ryujin's hand and try to lead her away from the ever-increasingly aggravated crowd. You navigate through groups of people as you hurry towards the exit. 

On your way, you trip over your stupid heels that Ryujin convinced you to wear and accidentally bump shoulders with someone. You find your footing and apologize. You try to walk away, pulling Ryujin behind you, but feel a rough hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“Where do you think your going?” a gravelly voice calls out.

“I already apologized; let me go,” you grit out, trying to pull away from the man. He was a little bit taller than you and was twice your age. You noticed the wad of cash in one of his hands and the sickishly sweet smile on his face, and you figured he must have placed a winning bet.

“Don't be like that; how about I take you and your friend here out and we go somewhere private” he says while flashing his money. “Of course you'll have to work for it if you want a tip,” he says repulsively.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jeno pushing through the crowd. The look on his face gives you the chills. 

“Don’t be scared, baby; I don't bite,” the man says. 

Oh, you’re not scared of him; your scared for him.

You know what's coming before it happens, and the man is on the ground in seconds. His money flits through the air before joining him on the ground. The man is clutching his face, and before Jeno can get his hands on him again, men dressed in all black pull the man to his feet and drag him out. You figured they must have been something like security. 

Everything happens so fast, but all you know is that you and Ryujin are both being pulled by an angry Jeno deeper into the building into some back room. Ryujin looks a bit shaken, but you assure her everything is okay now.

 It was dark and chilly in the room. The cement walls offered no warmth as you stood in the middle of what you assumed to be an old locker room. The back of the building was really coming apart; water leaked from the ceiling, and it smelled like mildew. No one really occupies the space anymore. 

Now occupying the space were Jeno,currently trying to reel in his nerves as he drags a hand down his face; Ryujin, shifting from one foot to another awkwardly; and you, who crossed your arms definitely over your chest as you waited for Jeno’s reprimanding.

“You know what I'm going to say,” he huffs.

“I'm sorry, it's really not her fault I'm the one who drug her here; I didn't realize how dangerous it would be” Ryujin tried to defend you, but she didn't know Jeno like you did. He wasnt one for excuses.

“Who are you?” He asks dismissively.  

Jeno had never met Ryujin before. Ryujin had only heard about him through the stories you would tell her about growing up with him and your brother.

“Im a friend; we didn’t come here without a reason we wanted to—” She says but doesnt get to finish

"Jeno, dont be rude. She was only trying to help.” You interrupt. You could not have her bring that up now; you needed his attention back on you. 

“I'm sorry, Ryujin. Can you give us a moment?” He sighs in apology.

Ryujin gives you a look but takes the hint and doesn't push the topic again. She reluctantly walks to the door and waits outside the room. 

Once the door shuts behind her, Jeno wastes no time telling you off. “I dont know why your here or whats going on but you need to leave. You know better than this,” he scolds

You wanted to jump off a cliff. This is absolutely not how you wanted to meet him again. You had imagined this meeting a thousand times in your head. When you finally reconnected, you were supposed to show him how mature you had gotten. This whole fiasco definitely sets you back 10 steps. 

“I wouldn't be here …I wouldn't be dressed like this if I had known we would end up here. It was a mistake. We'll leave, ok?" You say arms crossed and closed off as you dig your heel into the ground.

Even after all this time, he still had a soft spot for you. No matter how hard he tried to be stern with you, one look at the pout on your face made him feel bad. He walks over and closes the small distance between you two. He engulfs you in a hug, and you’re reminded of home. He reminds you so much of your past that it makes you nostalgic. He kisses the top of your head affectionately and lets go, and you’re reminded just how smelly and musty he is as his sticky skin peels from yours.

“Gross,” you grumble

“I think you'll live,” he jokes with a smile. He's a lot calmer now. He leans down to meet your gaze “I'm sorry for being hard on you; I was just worried. You popped up out of nowhere after all this time.

It was so easy to fall back in step with him. You want to tell him everything; all you want is for him to fix everything, but you are no longer that little girl, and you are determined to prove it. 

You’re deep in thought when he asks, “Is everything OK, Storm?”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname; you haven't heard that in awhile. He's always called you that; when you asked him why, he told you it was because you would stir up so much trouble wherever you went, growing up like a storm. It may have sounded negative, but he didn’t mean it like that. He always said it affectionately. 

“I'm fine; Ryujin brought me here because I said I missed home. She wanted to take me around to some familiar places. I guess she didn't know what really went down at this place” You try to cover up the truth.

Your campus wasn't too far from your hometown, and you go home almost every weekend, but hopefully Jeno doesn’t know that and buys the story. 

He looks a bit sceptical. "Lately, its been hard to come by you,” he says “Are you sure your not in any trouble?”

"I've just been busy with school; its nothing really,” you explain.

He just nods, and you know he does not believe it, but he doesn’t pry either. “Lets get you home; it's getting late” 

When you open the door, Ryujin falls forward, clearly listening in and she gives you a sheepish smile. You grab her arm and pull her along as jeno personally escorts you out and to ryujin's car.

He holds your door open for you and watches as you clamber inside before buckling your seat belt and closing your door for you. You internally groan in annoyance. He was never going to see you as anything but the 7th grade version of you that he first met. The girl needed her brother to save her from herself. 

You are grown now!

He can practically see the words printed on your forehead as he huckles to himself. He didn’t care; he would always take care of you, no matter how much you hated him for it.

 He motions for you to roll down the window before leaning into the car and caressing your face affectionately with his rough, bruised hand. You decide right then that you would never let him get hurt for your sake. He’s fought enough.

 “If you need anything, call, ok?” He says this before drawing his hand back. You don't respond, and he quirks an eyebrow.

"Ok,” You grumble 

“You have my number, right?”

“Yes!” You say a bit louder in annoyance.

"Ok, ok, I'm just checking, you never reach out, I just want to make sure your okay,” he continues 

“Actually, can I take your number? I'm practically her guardian now. I'll make sure to keep you updated if she needs anything” Your friend butts in with a smile.

Jeno happily gives her his number, and you just sit in the passenger seat like a child, watching as your parents fuss over you.

You are grown now!

Mondays are the worst days of the week, not because you have to go back to classes. You loved class, you loved learning and you loved your teachers. It wasn’t until college that you found out that you really enjoyed learning. Yuta would have definitely laughed at you if you told him that in high school. 

Yuta was the reason you hated Mondays. Mondays were the worst because they meant no more hiding. You couldn't stay in all day; you had to go to class, and that meant running into the devil. You were lucky enough to only have one class with Yuta, and that class only met on Mondays. 

You find your way to your seat at the back of the class, hoping to hide away from him, but you know he will find you. You felt his presence as he slipped into the seat next to you. 

“Morning doll, did you get my text?” 

You hated when he texted you; it was always a disturbing photo. Last time you opened a text from him, it was a video of him fucking some girl in a dark alleyway. In the video, he made the girl drop to her knees and open her mouth. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her mouth and made her suck it off. ‘Wish this was you’ was the text he sent after the video.

Since then, you have made it a point not to open his texts, but it seems like he wasn't going to let this one go.

“I’ve been busy; i hadnt had the chance to”

"Well, that's no good doll; why don't you open it now?” he smirks wickedly.

“I dont think—”

“Open it,” The playfulness slips off of his face and replaced with seriousness 

You never noticed it before, but Yuta could be terrifying. He never showed this side to you before, but your certain this was the side everyone else saw. He made a promise to follow you to the end of the earth, and so far he has kept true to it. 

He had gone from being your high school’s bad boy to the campus’s star athlete. Yuta had completely rebranded himself after graduation, and it made it even harder to report him. No one would believe you. He would just spin the story and make you out to be some bitter ex, making up lies to try to ruin his college career.

With shaky hands, you unlock your phone and go to your messages, clicking on the conversation with the unsaved number attached to it. There, you find a video waiting for you. You turn your volume all the way down and hit play. This time, it was a video of you a few nights ago, exiting the gym with Ryujin and Jeno. The camera work was shaky, and it seemed to have been taken from behind a car or a bushr? You couldnt tell but your heart was beating outside your chest.

Your eyes are glued to the screen as you feel a firm hand caress your tense shoulder until it grips the back of your neck. "Now why does it look like my doll is cheating” You freeze in place as your mouth hangs open. “Who is that?” he asks.

You had no idea he was following you. How long had he been following you? The grip on your neck tightens.

“Answer me,” he whispers cruelly, his eyes darkening with rage.

“He’s no one” tears well up in your eyes. Ryujin was right; this was getting out of hand.

“Let me catch you with him again; I'll make you regret it,” he whispers. He kisses the side of your head and breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He releases you, and you release the breath you had been holding. 

You can barely pay attention to anything your professor is saying; you just stare blankly at the front of the room.

You sent Ryujin a text to meet you in the library. You hated to dump all of this on her but you had to talk to someone. You could already tell she was frustrated with you about the situation, but she was the only one you could confide in. With her around, you didn't feel so alone in this. 

“He did what?!”

“Its ok, if I do what he says, everything will be fine; i have it under control,” you reply sheepishly

“No! You need to report his creepy ass to the cops!” she yells in disbelief.

“Keep it down; we’re in a library,” you remind her

“Dont try to change the subject,” she whispers 

“I'll figure this out” 

“We will figure this out.” she says, grabbing your hand and giving it a supportive squeeze.

When she lets go of your hand, hers slip under the table. You don't see it, but she’s texting someone, typing furiously before hitting send.

You try not to be mad at Ryujin, but you can't believe she went behind your back and snitched. Now, here in front of you, sits the last man on earth that you want to worry. Ryujin mouths a sorry and sends you an apologetic look. Jeno had arrived about ten minutes earlier, and he looked to be trying to keep his calm before confronting the matter.

“Is this some intervention?” you joke to lighten the mood. 

“Ryujin told me everything; do you think this is a joke?” He questioned, trying to stay patient with you. “Why didnt you tell me sooner”

You sigh, feeling ashamed. Everything was always so tense between you two. You had grown apart over the years, and it was difficult to think he was once like a second brother to you. But time was not the only factor to blame; high school also played a part. Puberty changed everything. It changed you, it changed jeno, and it definitely changed how you felt towards him. You had such a massive crush on him in high school that even your brother found it hard to ignore. You made Jaemin swear to secrecy and never tell a soul. If you had known Ryujin was going to call Jeno, you would have sucked it up and reached out to your brother.

You didn’t want Jeno to get involved. You kept telling yourself you didn't want him to get hurt, but you had to be honest with yourself. There was another reason you didn't want to ask for his help, and it was because you were still embarrassed. Anything was better than sitting in front of the man who rejected you. 

Summer freshman year of highschool

You thought you had finally grown up in his eyes; you thought your newfound curves were enough to make him see you as more than “Jaem’s little sister.” You thought you could fool yourself into believing you had a chance. 

It wasnt abnormal for jeno to sleep over at your place during highschool. He would crash in Jaemin’s room and eat breakfast with your family, like he lived there. One night, you catch him alone and tell him how you feel. You waited for him outside the bathroom. He was showering, and you were certain your brother was too engulfed in his game to interrupt you. Jeno had exited the bathroom wearing sweats and a tanktop, drying his hair with a towel. He had almost walked right by, not noticing you. You stood in front of him wearing a similar white tanktop and sleeping shorts, your nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt. You were so sure you would have his attention, but he just tentatively acknowledged you.

“Im sorry, was i taking too long?” he asked apologetically

"No, i actually wanted to talk to you about something”

He just nods his head and waits for you to continue

“I really like you, and I was hoping I could spend more time with you... just uh… the two of us,” you said shyly, unable to find the right words.

You couldnt meet his eye and stare at a random spot on the carpet

You felt a gentle hand stroke your head affectionately. You look up, hopefully but your world comes crashing down with his next few words

“Your like a sister to me; of course we can hang out more,” he smiles brightly, unknowingly ripping your heart out

Ever since that night, you have avoided him like the plague.

‘I just didn't want to worry you or jaem.” you say, ashamed.

“I won't tell him but if you think I'm going to sit back and let this happen, your wrong”

“I didn’t think it was that much of an issue yet.” you say, picking at your sleeves.

Jenos eyes harden with disbelief  “Are you serious? Not much of an issue?” he grits “Hes threatening you”

"Ok, ok, your right; I shouldn't be taking this lightly” You try to soothe things over with a weak smile.

“Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hand

You unlock it and hand it to him, unsure of what he's going to do. After messing around with it, he hands it back. “I blocked him; dont even think about texting him again.” he warns

“Jeno! I have to; hes going to be pissed!” You take your phone back, looking through your messages, but you’re unable to find the conversation again. You didn't realize how much control he had over you. You thought all you had to do was follow his orders, and you would be alright; one day he would just get bored of you and stop. 

“Don't you hear yourself? Your scared!” he yells. He hated seeing you like this. He promised Jaemin that he would watch after you, but here he was, blind to the cruelty that you had endured. “Once this is all over, I'm telling Jaem.” 

(¬_¬) snitch 

He gets up, preparing to leave, while both you and Ryujin stare at each other. Well, you glare at her while she communicates a response with her eyes in return. He doesn’t turn to leave before saying one last thing: “Keep your phone on you at all times, and I'll be walking you from your classes from here on out,” he states sternly. 

“I dont know if that’s a good idea; he told me not—”

“Are you more afraid of him or me?” he asks you

Point taken.

You wait until Jeno is out of earshot before you whisper yell at your friend, “I told you not to tell him!”

“I had to! I was worried”

"Well, great, now he's worried and probably thinks I'm an irresponsible idiot!”

"Well, you are,” she counters, “whats your deal anyway? You seriously think Yuta is just going to leave you alone? He's gonna end up killing you!” she scolds.

You take a moment to process her words. She had a point, but she didn't know Yuta like you did; neither of them did. He was dangerous. You just wanted to keep your friends safe, but you might have gotten in over your head.

You finally make it to your destination; you drove to the old gym, hoping to find Jeno. You could have called or texted him, but you knew it would be easier to get your point across in person. You had at least wanted to let him know what he was getting himself into. Yuta was dangerous, and no matter how strong Jeno was, he wasn't bulletproof.

You park your cute little beetle and cringe; you definitely didn't belong in this scene, and everyone around was going to know it. A sticker-bombed Volkswagen Beetle in the middle of the parking lot of a broken-down and shady gym? Perfect combo!

Luckily, there were only a few cars tonight. You figured it must not be fight night, and you prayed that you found Jeno inside. You gather up your courage and march inside. You make your way down a narrow hallway that opens up into the main gym, and that's where you find him. There were a few other fighters occupying the space, but they seemed to be wrapping up. Jeno must not be the only one who comes here to let off steam, you assume. 

"Oh, who's this cute thing?” one of the guys says as you catch his eye on his way out.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you Haechan; thats Jenos Girl,” another voice says, coming up behind him before slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Excuse him,” he says politely before pulling Haechan away and scolding him.

The one that wasn’t Haechan was there the night Jeno punched that weirdo out. Apparently the whole gym knew you as Jeno’s girl, according to his rambling. Their arguing fades away and the last thing you hear before complete silence is “Get off me Renjun your musty”

You laugh to yourself before scanning the room, and you bring your eyes back to the man nestled in the corner. He's facing a punching bag with his hands tightly wrapped and his headphones secure on his head. He wasn't still for a second, staying light on his feet as he threw a few hooks at the bag. 

You were almost afraid to accidentally sneak up on him because that would not end well. You stay cautious and keep a safe distance, choosing to call his name a few times to get his attention. Your practically screaming, but he can't hear you. You wonder what brand of headphones he had because that noise cancellation was crazy! You choose a different approach and spot a disregarded boxing glove on a side table. You walk the short distance, grab the item and chunk it at the back of Jeno’s head. 

Now clearly, you weren’t trying to poke a bear. You were aiming more towards his broad shoulders, given that was a better target, but your aim was off, and you almost knocked the expensive-looking headphone off his head.

Jeno whips around angrily, opening his mouth to curse, but stops himself short once he notices you. He settles for a deep, exasperated sigh and a sharp glare. He must have been at it for awhile because he was drenched in sweat, and his bangs hung messily in his eyes and were dripping sweat. He pushed the wet hair back from his eyes, showing his forehead. He looked so good when he was angry; his eyes were narrowed dangerously, and his chest heaved heavily.

“Why are you fucking with me?” He says this, coldly pulling his headphones off his ears and letting them hang around his neck "You better have a good reason for being here when there is a psycho after you. I clearly remember telling you to stay away from this place?” 

Oh yeah, you definitely poked the bear. Hes pissed.

“Are you sure you want to get involved?” You try to find your words. “Yuta isnt like the little boys you and jaemin used to beat up in highschool”

“You could never keep yourself out of trouble, huh?”

“I'm not asking for your help!”

“Drop the act for once, would you? Your not tough so stop acting like it!”

“I’m not being tough; I just don't want to be a bother! I'm not the same kid! When I’m falling, you always save me, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being weak. I don't need your help, so why don’t you drop the older brother act? Your barely even older than me!” You pitch back

“Jaemin told me to look out for you so thats what im doing,” he huffs 

“And that's your only reason, right? Your just looking out for me because my brother said so” you scoff, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. " How about this? I take you in the ring and show you what I got. Let me show you I can take care of myself” You cross your arms and send him a defiant look.

“Are you seriously—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head in disbelief “You know what fine. Show me what you got”

You smile in triumph and walk over to the center of the gym, where the ring sits. You take off your shoes and crawl inside. The mat felt cool under your feet; it was a grounding sensation, and just once you understood why Jeno loved standing in it, even if it meant fighting. You scan the gym, and memories fill in all the rust, broken pipes and holes in the wall as you remember what the gym used to be. Your stuck in a trance until you feel something soft but firm hit you in the head, knocking you from your daydream.

“That was payback…. but you also need to be mindful of your surroundings. Not starting off so well, angel,” Jeno says, shaking his head as he adjusts the punching mitts over his hands. 

You’re brought back to the present and finally notice the boxing gloves at your feet. You get the memo and put them on. 

“This can't be too hard,” you mutter to yourself.

Your both centered in the ring and you focus on jenos movements. You grew up being dragged to almost all of your brother's matches; you figured you had watched long enough to catch on to some moves. You throw a punch at Jenos mitt, and he cushions the blow. He lets you get comfortable throwing a few punches before he counters. He makes his movements very big and obvious; you can see his strike from a mile away. You weave under it and throw a punch at his gaurding mitt. 

Hes going easy on you

You continue to spar, and Jeno is in full coach mode. He's guiding you in the correct stance and helping you learn what to look for when someone strikes. You've been at it for about 30 minutes now, and you've gotten faster at dodging and reading his movements. He’s still going extremely easy on you, but upping the ante just a little. You were completely absorbed in the lesson.

“Nice hook, put you jab lacks power,” he instructs.

You were good at putting your body into your hooks, but you just couldn't build enough momentum for a strong jab. You try again, but it falls flat, and Jeno shakes his head. 

“Follow through; come on, try it again,” he encourages you. You take a breath and send a jab into his mitt. Still not enough. 

Jeno takes off the mitts and moves in closer towards you.

"Here, watch me,” he says, raising his gaurd and striking the air. “You want to step into it, see?” He shows you again, a little bit slower.

You give a determined hum and copy his movement, but you can tell by Jeno’s face that you're missing the mark. 

"Ok, come here; let me show you” Jeno moves in behind you and grabs your arms. He helps you fix your posture and you instantly heat up at the contact. You try to keep it together, but the way his chest was pressed up against your back and the way he was breathing heavily in your ear had you reeling. "Ok, now focus, step into it and jab.” 

He moves one hand down to your waist and pushes you forward, guiding your step, while the other helps you jab. He was so close. You wanted to blame the sudden weakness in your limbs on the endless training he has you doing, but you know its from the heat of his body.

“Are you okay? That one was really weak. Are you shaking?” Jeno looks at you from over your shoulder, worried. 

You meet his gaze and nod silently. He's so close. His lips are a breath away, and all you have to do is turn your head to meet his lips. The hand holding your waist travels up your side and grabs your chin. He tilts your head up a little, and his lips are meeting yours. You turn in his grasp and kiss him back. His lips are so soft, and when you pull away, you immediately miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done that,” he says softly.

Before you can protest, he pulls away from you, cleans up the equipment you two used, and calls it a night. You let him walk you to your car, and you say nothing before you drive away. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely would be now.

How could he kiss you and then pretend like nothing happened? You’re too embarrassed to bring it up again. Does this count as being rejected for a second time? Nah, he kissed you; you're not taking another L. 

It had been a week so far, and Jeno had shown up promptly to all your classes. He shouldered your bags and carried your books as you both walked across campus. Neither of you brought up the kiss, but fortunately, it wasn't awkward anymore. He had started teaching you to defend yourself at the gym sometimes after class. Those moments felt the most intimate. You could feel his passion when he taught you, and it warmed you in all the right places. You two talked about everything in these moments. You shared embarrassing memories from high school, and he told you stories about Jaemin that you would never let your brother live down. You talked about everything but the kiss. You wonder if he regretted it?

The funny thing about college was that the classrooms were so big and there were so many students that it was hard to keep track of who was who. That's how Jeno ended up in you’re lecture every Monday. It was the only class you had with Yuta, and Jeno wasn’t taking any chances. You told him it wasn't a good idea, and the eyes burning into the back of your head were proof of that. Jeno was by your side the entire period, and to onlookers, you two probably looked like a couple. He had scooted your chair directly next to him and was practically shoulder to shoulder with you. 

“Back up; I can feel you breathing down my neck” 

“I want to see what your doing”

Jeno didn't go to college. He mainly just worked during the day and fought on the weekends for extra cash. His parents were absent for the most part, and he kind of took care of himself growing up. He didn't really have a support system growing up, and that was one of the main reasons he found himself at your house. The only other place he felt safe was the gym. You could only imagine how devastated he was when it shut down. You can understand why he decided to stick around when things turned shady. Jeno earned enough money to support himself, so he never felt the need to go to college, which is why Jaemin didn't feel to bad about dumping you off on his shoulder.

“I can't concentrate Jen,” you scold.

He spends half the class peaking over your shoulder as you work and the other half asleep on the desk. Some guard dog he was.

Yuta didn't bother you during class anymore, and you were grateful. You could finally focus on bringing your grades back up, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting against you the entire time. After class, he would hang out in the library or, if you had a long day, the gym before returning to pick you up.

Later that day, Jeno was supposed to meet you after your econ class, which was your last class of the day, but you were surprised to not see him silently leaning up against the wall opposite the door. You try your best to calm your nerves as you try to decide if you should wait for him or not. You tried not to freak out; he was probably fine. Maybe he thought you could handle walking yourself home for once; you couldn't expect him to be there all the time. Not to mention you hadn't run into Yuta anywhere other than class.  

Your last class ends late, and the sun has already gone down, so you were really reluctant to leave without Jeno. You try your best to channel the old you, the one that ran with bad crowds, the one who feared no one and nothing, and the newer you, who had trained with Jeno and learned how to protect yourself. You put on your best face and begin trekking home.

As you walked, you realized It wasn't so bad; you had honestly forgotten how nice it felt to just walk around by yourself and clear your head. You were enjoying your walk home, and you were about two blocks from your dorm when you felt something in the air shift. Suddenly, you didn't feel so alone. You try to pick up your pace as subtly as possible and pull your phone from your bag. You dial Jeno’s number with quickness and wait for him to pick it up. You can feel the person behind you’s steps quicken. 

Come on, please

You beg internally as you break out into a small jog. Screw being subtle; someone was clearly following you. You didn’t dare chance a look over your shoulder as you cut across a lawn; his phone went to voicemail, and you dialed again. The person behind you is right on your heels and you drop your phone as a firm hand grabs your arm. Your first reflex is to scream, but you remember Jenos teachings: you jab your elbow as hard as you can into the attacker's ribs. Your about to break his grip when you hear a familiar groan. You turn around to look at your attacker, and you notice its just Jeno.

He's looking at you with a worried expression, like he didn't just chase you for a full block.

“What are you doing!?” 

“I was trying to catch up to you!” He lets you go and holds his ribs, groaning in pain.

“Why didn't you pick up weirdo? I thought someone was going to get me!”

“I was running late and left my phone at home; I thought you would at least wait for me,” he states

You calm your nerves and sign in relief. You shake off your backpack and shove it into his chest.

“Dont be late again; what if something had happened”

“You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and he looks into your eyes. He needs you to know that he would throw down everything to make sure you were okay.

“I know that” Your heart skips a beat, and he grabs your hand reassuringly. You were grateful for the night sky because you could feel your face heating up.

"Good,” 

You finally arrive at your off-campus dorm and make your way inside. Your roommate didn't seem to be home yet; typically, she came home late because she had to work late at her job so you were grateful for the time you had alone with jeno. 

It isn't until he sets your things down and you flick on a few lights that you see a few bruises and cuts on his face. It was not surprising to see Jeno bruised up, given his fighting background, but these appeared to be from a recent fight. When he notices your gaze, he turns to hide his face and begins unpacking your bag and arranging your study materials.

Jeno had insisted a few days ago that he stick around a little after he drops you off. He insisted it was for your protection so you guys started studying together. Well, you started studying; Jeno just watched you or took a nap next to you on the sofa. 

“We should start soon; it's getting late,” he says, trying to redirect your attention.

You refuse to let it go though and move in closer to get a better look. “Who did this?” you say as you gently caress his face, moving it around to examine the damage

“I had a match the other—”

“Don't lie to me,” you urge

“He sent some guys after me,” jeno confesses

Your heart drops. This is exactly why you didn’t want him to get involved. Its like he can read your thoughts because he immediately tries to ease your worry.

“Calm down; this is nothing. You know me, I can hold my own,” he says

You didn't respond.

“I took care of them; you dont have to worry”

You stare at him incredulously “Is that why you were late today?” 

"Maybe,” he winces

“Jeno!” you scold. “Was Yuta there?”

“I tried to look for him after, but apparently he had an away game tonight,” he answers. 

“Let me clean you up” 

Jeno wasn't that much taller than you, probably just a few inches, but you found it easier to work on the cuts on his face by sitting on the counter. You already had your materials prepped; you kept a first aid kit on hand at all times; it was a habit you couldn't shake. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position with Jeno; you had always cleaned him and your brother up during childhood. You felt terrible; you worked in a silence that Jeno kept trying to break. Anytime he would open his mouth to speak, you would dab at his lip with more ointment to shut him up until he got the memo. He kept trying to cheer you up and you werent in the mood

He winces at your touch, and you immediately let up and give a short apology. You go back in with a lighter hand and add a bandage. As many punches as he takes, you would think a little peroxide wouldn't hurt. You were done fixing him up, and you busy yourself with putting your kit back together, ignoring the eyes that bore into you. You wanted to leave and put some distance between you but he wouldnt step from between your legs. 

“Hey, look at me.” he calls out to you. 

You could not bring yourself to look at him; each scar on his face reminded you that it was your fault that he was hurt. 

“Its not your fault” its like he was reading your mind.

"Yes, it is! I shouldnt have gotten you involved! I should have just called Jaem.”

“You would rather see Jaemin beat up?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“He would have at least deserved it,” you say, rolling your eyes and thinking of all the times he tormented you growing up.

A comfortable silence falls between you two after sharing a laugh. He was so close, but you reached out like he was going to disappear. You tentatively caress his bruised cheek; he leans into your touch, and the look he gives you gives you butterflies. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“I like being near you;  don’t push me away again”

"Jeno,” you say, shocked by his confession

“I dont want us to go back to the way things were I—

You push him away before jumping down from the counter; you don't want to hear anymore. You had a feeling you knew what he was getting at. After all this time and all the hurt, now he likes you!?

“You were the one who made it like this! Made US like this. I told you how I felt all those years ago, and you rejected me!” you argue

“What are you talking—”

“Drop it,” you demand, trying to leave the bathroom, but he stands in the doorway, blocking your path.

“What did you mean? When did I ever reject you?” Jeno tries, but you ignore his gaze until he grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Stop being like that and answer me.” he says.

You were tired of holding your tongue; you might as well get it over with. “Do you remember that time during highschool? When you stayed with us the whole summer?” you worry your lip. “I told you I liked you and you said I was like a sister to you,” you heave out in one big breathe

Jeno takes a moment to process your words, and he finally says, “I had no idea that was what you meant back then. I thought you hated me since I was always over. I thought the ‘I like you’ was more of an ‘I like you around’,” Jeno explains.

“Why would I hate you?” You ask in shock

“Jaemin used to always drag me around to scare off your boyfriends; I thought you might have hated me for that. You never really went out of your way to speak to me, I guess? I asked Jaemin if you hated me that same night, and he told me no. Then I ran into you in the hallway, and you suddenly told me you liked me, so I figured he told you to set things straight?” 

He wasn't wrong; back then, you kept to yourself and watched from afar. You hoped you could make him come to you. You were too scared to approach him, so you did everything you could to get his attention. You got into trouble, so he and Jaemin would have to come to your rescue. You dated all those guys to make him jealous. This whole time, you thought he couldn't care less about you, but it seems the whole time he was worried you hated him. 

"Well, that doesnt change the fact that you only see me like a little sister” 

“I kind of did, at first. You were my best friend, little sister, and I had to see you that way. Jaemin would kill me if I didn't. But I can't, not anymore. Truthfully, I never had.” He caressed your face and pressed his forehead against yours “I'm sorry if this is all confusing for you. I know it has been for me, but can we just try something?” He holds your eye contact, and your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. He smelled so good; the minty scent of his tooth paste mixed with the natural musk of his skin was driving you crazy. You had waited for a moment like this for almost forever.

“Anything; I'll do anything with you,” you say, almost forgetting to breathe.

He pushes you back and sets you on the counter again as he leans in and caresses your lips softly with his, teasing you like he has been doing for the past few years. You cannot take it anymore; you cannot wait anymore, so you take the dive. You press your lips fervently against his, causing him to hiss slightly from the sting, but when you try to pull back to apologize, he grips the back of your neck and reconnects your lips again. He moans into your mouth as you lick the cut on his lip, which will undoubtedly scar apologetically. You try to kiss him more gently but when he feels your hesitance, he pulls away just for a second to whisper, “don’t hold back”

Your hands find their way into his hair and his find their way under your thighs, hiking them up and around his waist. Things were getting heated fast, and you could hardly breathe. Everything you ever wanted was coming to fruition right in front of your eyes. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, he does not waste any time kissing your neck. The force of his kisses makes you weak, and you have to lean against the mirror behind you to stay upright. 

You could hardly keep up; your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, and you could hardly hold your head up. The way he was rolling his hips into yours made your breath start to make condensation on the mirror as you laid your face on the cool glass. Jeno eventually found your lips again after his short exploration and claimed them hungrily.

“What's gotten into my baby? You can't handle it?” he teases

This was the first time he’s called you that, and it was driving your heart beat up dangerously.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you, like I always do,” he murmurs against your lips before leaving you with a peck. 

He pulls you off the counter as he leads you to your bed. You were in a daze; your brain was running hot, and you couldn't even think of anything but the feeling of his hands caressing your sides from under your shirt. 

“Tell me you want it” Your eyes flutter a bit at his tone. He sounded so good. You needed him inside of you; that was the only thing you could think of.

“I need you inside,” you moan with a roll of your hips

“Gotta get you ready for that first,” he says as he begins to strip you of your clothes before he follows with his own.

You definitely had brain fog but the sight infront of you cleared it up. He looked so good, you had to bite your tongue before you let out an embarrassing sound. His broad shoulders and slim waist hovered over you tauntingly, like his body was begging you to mark it. His length stood proud against his abdomen, and you had to will yourself to meet his dark graze again. When he licks his lips, you pout and give him a "hurry up" look.

 He wastes no time and starts stretching you out over his fingers. You return every kiss and nip he gave you earlier and more. You mark up his neck with kisses and bites and leave pretty claw marks down his back  and chest as he works his fingers in and out of you skillfully. He had to bite back the groans that threatened to leave his mouth as you gushed all over his fingers. He couldnt wait to feel you around his cock. You feel yourself getting so close. You roll your hips as he scissors you open. He senses how close you are and hooks his fingers as they drag deliciously against your walls. You finish all over his fingers.

“You must have been so pent-up, baby; that didn't take long at all?” he coos teasingly

You shoot him a glare and retaliate by wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him into place. You grab his length and stroke it. You give him a few sensual pumps before you crack. You wanted to tease him like he's been torturing you, but you couldn't keep waiting; you needed him inside so you slipped him in. He chuckles softly at your failed attempt to get back at him and pecks your lips affectionately. You shudder at the feeling, and your walls are squeezing him so tight that the soft patterns he was drawing on your skin turn into harsh grasps of your hips while his soft chuckling turns into a surprised gasp. He moans softly as he tries to ground himself.

“You want it bad, huh?” he tries to get you to beg but it comes out more whiney than domineering 

“No more waiting; if you wont do anything, I'll do it myself,” you threaten. 

He finds your threat cute and has decided to take mercy on you. He strokes slowly at first, making sure you’re not hurting or uncomfortable. You loved this man, and you loved how much he cared for you, but right now you didn't want that. Despite his constant nagging, he has always been nothing but gentle with you for as long as you can remember. You don't want that side of him. You want it rough.

“Dont hold back,” you mirror his words from earlier “you wont break me,” you reassure him when you see worry settle into his features

“What if I do?”

“I want you to,” you whisper back 

That seems to do the trick because now he was hoisting your hips up, tilting them to fuck into you as deep as he could. Your lower half is lifted from the mattress and all you can do is hold on to the sheets. He was thrusting in deep, craving as much contact as possible. 

You try to match his pace and fuck back on him, but you grow tired and just settle for taking everything he gives you.

He sets your hips back down before yanking one of your legs over his shoulder. He starts back  up again, and you can see the way his veins strain against his arms at the force he's using to fuck you. You were sure to have pretty bruises in the shape of his hands in the morning. The bed creaked loudly as he pounded you into the mattress, and you prayed that Ryujin wasn’t home yet. 

It was like he couldn't keep his hands off of you; they were never still on your body. First they were grasping your hips, holding you steady as he drilled you, then they were grasping at your breasts, and finally one of them took a purchase wrapped around the base of your neck. He wasn’t applying much pressure; he was just holding it there.

Your walls flutter around his cock and hw tightens his grip around your neck at the feeling. He can tell you’re about to cum and when you do, he has to hold you down with his other hand. The lack of air triggers your survival responses and heightened senses, making you feel everything tenfold. The burn against your throat hurts, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to give you a beautiful ending. You can tell by the sticky warmth that fills you and the groan that follows that Jeno wasn't far behind at all. He rolls off of you and plops down on the space beside you to catch his breath. You pull yourself up and start to get out of bed before he grabs your arm.

“Where are you going?” He asks as hurt crosses his features.

“I need the bathroom,” you explain, sleepy “This is my house anyway; you thought I was going to leave?” You joke with a laugh

Jeno visibly relaxes for a second before he too gets out of bed. He makes his way over to you and helps you to the bathroom. You go to the bathroom, and he runs a bath, and you realize how much more domestic your relationship has become in the last few weeks, to the point where it feels natural.

He helps you into the bath and slips in behind. You two talk more in the bath as he pampers you. You have never felt more at home than when you were wrapped in Jeno’s arms. When you get out, he lays you back on the bed before cuddling up beside you. You study his face, and for the first time in awhile, you take a good, long look. If you looked close enough, you could still see traces of the boy you knew all those years ago under the man that stared back at you. For some reason, that made everything hurt. You knew Jeno would do anything to protect you, but who would protect him? With Jaemin gone, all he had was you. You shut your eyes at the thought.

You don't know what your thinking; you just knew you had to be strong and that you were going to put an end to this tonight. You didn’t have his number anymore, but you always knew where to find him. 

It was getting late, and instead of heading to the gym for your weekly training with Jeno, you were on the other side of town. You hug your jacket tighter to your chest, bracing yourself against the cold winds of the night. When you turn a corner, the flashing neon lights almost blind you.

찬스노래방

Chance Karoake

You open the door to the front of the building and make your way in. You put on your brave face before trekking over to the back of the shady building. Room 0824 was your destination. 

This was the building Yuta ran most of his deals out of. Karaoke rooms are a known hotspot for drug deals and other illegal trades. It was rare to see Yuta here now due to the fact that he had to keep his image clean but you knew his schedule and you knew when he would pop in. Dont get him wrong; yuta wasnt some big-shot crime boss, he was just some kid who dealt in shady business. 

You knock on the door and wait. When the door swings open, a cloud of smoke hits you in the face. The room stinks of weed and disposables, the smoke burning your eyes as you try to focus on the figure in front of you. 

Cheshire grin meets an apprehensive frown as you stand face-to-face with Yuta.

“Welcome home, doll”

You feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins at the man standing in front of you, the source of so much trouble in your life. The atmosphere is tense, filled with the lingering smell of drugs and the weight of unspoken threats. You knew this was your chance to finally confront him and put an end to this dangerous game you've been forced to play. With a steely glance, you lock eyes with Yuta and prepare yourself for the confrontation that will determine the course of your future.

“Don't call me that” You push past him and enter the room. There is plenty of sitting room on the couch, but you’re too anxious, so you decide to stand. A few of his friends occupy the room, and he doesn't have to tell them twice to leave the two of you alone.

Even after all this time and all your history together, you cannot bring yourself to look him in the eyes. Jeno was right; he terrified you. You could pretend to be brave all you wanted, but the truth was, you were just a scared little girl inside. 

“Don't push me, doll,” he warns before wrapping slender fingers around your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Where's your little boyfriend? Not here to save you?” he taunts

“I want you to leave him alone,” you grit out. You had to be brave.

“You think you can just walk in here and give me orders? You forget who you belong to?” He shakes your face in his grasp.

You rip his hand from your face and twist. No, you would not let him control you any longer. This had all gone too far. Despite feeling intimidated, you refuse to submit to his control any longer.

All you could think about was Jeno; you couldn't let him get hurt anymore because of you. You loved him more than you feared Yuta. You refuse to let him own you.

With the grasp that you have on his arm, you twist his wrist farther until hes crippling down onto his knees. As he winced in agony, you could see the fear etched on his face. With a steely resolve, you pressed harder. His cries echoed in the empty room as you held him in place, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he had caused. Your grip tightened, a silent promise that this would be the last time he hurt anyone.

“If you want to continue playing and keep your scholarship, I suggest you leave me the hell alone. Next time you harass me, I'll break it,” you spit.

With a final, warning glare, you released your grip on his wrist. His body crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his throbbing wrist. You had made it clear that harassment would not be tolerated, and the threat of losing his scholarship hung heavy in the air. 

The weight that had been dragging you down for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-worth. With your head held high, you strode forward. Although you know for certain that Jeno would kill you if he ever found out, you think deep down he would be proud; after all, he created this monster.

When you get home, Ryujin’s on your ass for being out so late. When she had called Jeno and he hadn't seen you either, she thought the worst had happened. You check your phone and find 10 missed calls and even more frantic text messages from Jeno. 

You apologize for causing worry to Ryujin and explain that you lost track of time while out. You decide to quickly call Jeno back to assure him your okay. 

You wait as the phone rings, but there is no answer. You call again, and he still doesn't pick up. Something didn't feel right, and you grabbed your keys, rushing out of the house.

“You just got here; where are you going?” a stern Ryujin calls.

“Gotta find Jeno!” you call back before hopping back into your car.

For as long as you’ve known him, you knew Jeno could be a hothead sometimes. You knew the moment he heard you were missing, he went out himself to go looking for you. You drove to his house to find him. When you pull into his driveway, it's empty. You park and rush up the stairs to his apartment. You bang on the door until someone answers. You almost sigh in relief until you realize its not Jeno. The person on the other side of the door looked clearly aggravated. His black hair was messily strewn on his head, and his shirt hung off his frame like he just threw it on. 

“Can I help you? A raspy voice calls

“Uh, im looking for Jeno,” you ask the man

“He left like an hour ago,” he yawns lazily, leaning against the door frame like he could barely stay awake. “Its almost one in the morning. Whats going on?” 

“Its nothing; can you call me if he shows back up” you ask frantically.  If Jeno had left an hour ago, who knows where he could be now? You give him your number, and he tells you his name is Mark. You thank him and rush back to your car. Your about to pull out when your phone lights up. Jeno was calling you back.

“Hello? Jeno where have you been?” You feel a weight lift off your shoulder as you take your keys out of the ignition and slump back into your seat. 

“”I found Yuta”

“Jeno…What did you do to him?”

“I beat his ass,” he says, “and then I made him tell me where you were”

“Jen—”

“Why did you think it was a good idea to go and threaten him on your own?”

“I had too. I had to do it for me”

“Where are you”

“At your apartment”

“Stay there”

You get out of your car and lean up against the hood, and you wait to see his car roll down the street. 

You breathe in the cold, crisp night air and let it soothe your nerves. You did not want to argue with Jeno, not right now. Headlights blind you as a car pulls up behind yours. You hear the engine cut off and the car door slam. As Jeno quickly approaches, you prepare yourself for the confrontation. The tension hangs heavy between you, but you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before engaging in what could be a difficult conversation. 

"Jeno, can we talk about this—” You're left speechless as his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss.

Confusion and conflicting emotions swirl within you as you reluctantly allow yourself to be swept up in the moment, momentarily forgetting all of your worries.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours “Don't scare me like that” His hands caress your face like he can't believe your standing in front of him, like he's making sure he's not dreaming. His frame is shaking, and you’re not sure if it was the cool night air or the light rain that chose this moment to fall, making him shiver.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, and your heart twists, your throat closes up, and you cry. You cry because you never want him to pull away; you cry because you realize how much he loves you; and you cry because you’re both safe.

“Im sorry Jen i didnt mean to—”

“No excuses,” he says, shaking his head “promise”

You hug him back tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “I promise I wont do anything like that again” 

He pulls away from you and you notice hes soaked to his bones. The rain had picked up and was now pouring down over you two; you could only imagine your clothes were in the same state. You laugh and push his wet hair out of his face.

“Mark is going to kill us if we soak the carpet.”

“I think he's already upset; I woke him up earlier. Come on, lets get you out of the rain”

He leads you inside by the hand, and you kick off your wet shoes and socks. You try your best to make your way to the bathroom to change. Jeno brings you some dry clothes, and he closes the door and changes alongside you into something more warm.

You follow him to his room with light steps, afraid of waking Mark up for a second time. You lay down next to Jeno in his bed, and you tangle your feet with his seeking warmth.

“I feel like my heart starts beating again when our hands hold each other,” he whispers

“Back then, when we drifted apart, every day felt like I was drowning. Now because you are here, I'm breathing,” you confess

He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head “im not going anywhere”

And you believe him, because somehow you had always known he was your guardian angel. You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the reassurance in his words. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges may come, you both can face them together. With his arms around you and his promise to stay by your side, you finally feel at peace, knowing that you have found your way back to each other.

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[megalony]

I'm Her Doctor

Okay, so this is my first time writing an AU fic for 911, Eddie Diaz, as requested by a lovely anon. I utterly loved writing this and I hope to do more like this soon.

(If anybody would be interested in a Doctor AU series for any of the 911 boys please let me know)

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: When a tsunami strikes LA, Eddie pulls overtime at the hospital to care for as many patients as he can. Little does he realise that his wife will be one of his patients, and he won't let anyone else look after her but him. (AU, Eddie is a Doctor)

Enjoy.

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Eddie's nose crinkled at the smell of the coffee. Too strong. A splash of milk he didn't intend. A hint of tea curdling the mix. No amount of sugar in the world could make this bearable, but Eddie couldn't be bothered to buy another three cups from the decades old machine to get the perfect blend.

He didn't have time to run down to the cafeteria for a proper cup and all the machines on each ward were either old, broken or used the cheap blend Eddie would never touch outside of work.

He only drank the coffee from the machines when he was desperate and right now, with a twelve hour shift that was probably going to be extended, Eddie needed something to keep himself awake.

His lips curled down at the corners when he took a sip and a shudder rocked his body at the curdling taste.

With a sigh, he turned on his heels, dragged his free hand down his face and took a step away from the machine. His break would be over in a few minutes, he had to get back to his office.

His head snapped back and his shoulders barged into the machine, pushing the decrepit coffee maker into the beige wall loud enough to create an echo surging down the corridor. Eddie lifted his arms and hissed when the coffee spilled over his hands and dribbled through his fingers while he pushed himself back enough to be out the way of the gurney speeding down the corridor.

"Dios, Marcy, where's the fire?" Eddie's voice lowered a few tones and he rose a brow when he locked eyes with the familiar nurse who almost ran him over.

The gurney was empty- well, it was empty of a patient, at least.

There were over ten IV bags wobbling about on the mattress like bags of jelly that looked rather weak and ready to pop. Rolls of bandages, gauze, bottles of anticeptic, cotton swabs and packaged needles were littering the gurney that looked like it had robbed the supply cupboard.

The young nurse paused in her speeding attempt down the corridor. Sweat trickled across her forehead and down the side of her neck, causing a few loose strands of hair to stick to her skin. She puffed and leaned against the end of the gurney, letting her shoulders sag.

When she relaxed, Eddie realised how panicked and worn out she looked. She hadn't been on shift for more than five hours, she turned up way after Eddie clocked in for his shift.

"You mean the flood."

"Pardon?"

"Didn't you hear? The ER's been taken over, we're swamped down there. Everyone's being redirected."

"Why?"

Eddie hadn't heard anything, he had been in theatre for the last six hours of his shift. He had been removing an appendix, sorting out internal bleeding and stitching up a ten year old. He hadn't had time to bustle about and find out the latest gossip in the hospital. Before he went into surgery, everything had been as normal as ever.

Now though, he had encountered at least four nurses running around like headless chickens. Another two of his colleagues had been called to the ER over the tanoid and Eddie had barely seen anyone on the upper floors here. He thought it odd, but he had no idea something big was happening.

Marcy tilted her head at an angle and let out a shallow breath. She took a moment to swipe her hand across her temple before she looked back at the doctor stood beside her.

"There's- there's been a tsunami, high level. It took out the pier and all the coast, at least four miles inland."

"Jesus," Eddie dumped his cup in the bin beside him, shaking his hand free of coffee remnants before he dragged his hand down his chin.

A tsunami? In LA?

There had been no warnings or signs about this. No one had been on red alert or suspected anything. Usually they got a small warning, maybe an hour or less before the disasters happened, like with hurricanes or thunderstorms. The hospital had preparations and plans in place, they could usually get set up ready for a natural disaster if one were to occur.

"We've got people coming from all over, brought in on trucks, walk-ins, even the LAFD are out driving people to us. The ER is overspilling… I gotta get these supplies down there."

"Go, go." Eddie patted her shoulder and watched her give him a sympathetic smile before she resumed her high-speed charge towards the lift at the end.

Eddie's shift wasn't going to finish anytime soon.

How could he go home when they were getting people being brought in from all across the state? People were dying. People were crawling and dragging their families down to the nearest hospitals, wading through water and grime and busted cars and broken telephone wires. They were trying to get themselves to safety and thousands of people could be injured.

There was no way he could go home when people were being brought in on trucks, needing medical help.

He was a doctor. It was his duty to help people and save as many lives as possible. Eddie couldn't go home until the hospital had people on wards and they had helped every person that came in through their doors.

Rummaging his hand in his pocket, Eddie fished out his phone. He was surprised to find he still had some signal, a tsunami usually brought down the phone lines. They had to be far in land here to be unharmed.

He had to call (Y/n). If he wasn't going to be getting out of here anytime soon, he had to let (Y/n) know and make sure she and Chris didn't venture out far with this mess going on. The last thing he needed was his family getting stuck in a traffic jam or being caught up or swamped somewhere with the waves still lashing out and coming inland.

She didn't answer.

"Hey mi amor, I don't know when I'm gonna be home, there's some sort of tsunami happening and we're getting casualties left right and centre. I'll call you when I know more. I hope you and Chris are having a better time, amor. Stay safe."

With his phone in his pocket and his pager in his hand, Eddie looked through the two messages he got. They wanted him down in the ER. He was on standby for any emergency operations if any casualties came through.

Into the chaos.

The tails of his pristine white overcoat flapped behind his thighs as he jostled down the stairs towards the emergency room. There was no point waiting for the lift when others needed it more and Eddie could use the stairs.

He didn't like what he saw. People sat on the floor in the stairwell and the adjoining corridors. Sat on blankets. Holding gauze to major cuts, empty water bottles sat beside them. Water trickling down the stairs causing a major hazard. Two, three and four people sharing one oxygen tank between them, taking turns with the mask to try and keep each other from gasping like fish.

Were these people all walk-ins from the disaster? Were these patients that had been moved out of their rooms and wards to make way for more dire emergencies?

How many more people were going to be coming into the hospital? How many more people could they help before they were overflowing and had no space left?

Could they even turn people away? Eddie had never known them to turn anyone away, especially not in a disaster. But they were clearly reaching maximum capacity if people were sitting in stairwells and lying in corridors. They might have to turn people away, how could they help people if they had no space and were using up their extra resources?

The doors swung open when Eddie barged into the emergency room. He clipped his ID badge onto his waistband for easy access in case he had to go and grab more supplies. All the corridors were locked for safety, if the patients wanted through they had to be buzzed in and all staff had keycards.

"Darren, what have we got?"

"What haven't we got?" The nurse deadpanned, dropping his shoulders as he spun to face Eddie. He rose a brow when he realised what Eddie was wearing. He wasn't in his usual button up shirt or trousers. He was in pale turquoise scrubs and his usual bleached white overcoat. That was a giveaway that he had been in surgery.

"Alright, smart arse, who's shift lead down here?" Eddie's hands moved to his hips and he took a look around.

The emergency room had never been so compact.

Most of the curtains were pulled back with little privacy so they could push the beds closer together and squeeze more patients in. People were sitting on blankets on the floor. Others were lining the walls, sat, crouching and stood waiting to be seen by anyone available.

Some were wearing wristbands of different colours, red meant someone was in dire need of help, green were those who could wait and amber meant they would need attention soon.

Black was reserved for those who were either dead or not going to make it. It had been a long time since Eddie had seen the wristband system come into play.

"Jameston was pulled up to theatre, Macabee's been pulled somewhere else, we're just helping who we can."

"Fuck." Eddie's fingers scratched through his scrubs until he was sure he would have red indents in his skin and blood wheels bubbling up beneath his skin. If no one was on shift lead then people didn't have anyone to report to, that meant people would just help whoever they wanted or whoever was closest. They needed a system.

If no one was going to take charge then Eddie would take that role himself. People could listen to him or get out the emergency room.

"Alright, listen up." He made his way over to the circular reception desk in the middle of the room. "If you don't have a wristband, come get one. Green bands in that corner, amber over here. If you have red then someone will come and move you towards the back."

Coloured bands were there for a reason, people were meant to be segregated into their groups, not compiled together like this. Eddie pointed for where he wanted them to go and waved his hands towards the back for all the red patients to be escorted over. The back was closest to the equipment and near the lifts for easy transfer.

"You three, go to red I want four nurses in the red corner at all times, do not leave those patients. Johnson, you're in charge or those three, deal with amber and get them onto a different floor. The rest of you sort out the greens, anyone who can be stitched up and sent out needs to go. We aren't a cafe we are here for serious injuries."

Eddie could see the funny looks he was getting, but no one dared argue with him. He was putting himself in charge and they needed to agree or go to a different ward for different orders.

This was a hospital. Anyone who had minor injuries needed to be given paracetamol, checked for cuts and sent home. They could get antibiotics from their GP and they could get seen by a pharmacist for any minor complications. They had no room, no space and no time to deal with anyone who wasn't in critical condition.

"We've been separated, w-we need to find out families-"

"Ma'am, I completely understand that, but you can't do that here."

"We need to see if our families have been admitted!" An angry father, or, Eddie presumed he was a father by his stance and his panicked temper, stomped his foot on the floor.

He wanted to find his loved ones. He had a few injuries that weren't life-threatening. He wanted to find his family and he couldn't leave the hospital if he wanted to do that.

He looked Eddie up and down when the doctor advanced over to him with a calm expression and his hands at his sides.

"Look around," Eddie's voice was gentle but his words were oddly firm. "We aren't taking names at the moment, we treat people, we get them onto a ward or on their way. We don't get names until they are safely in a bed or about to leave. In here, we have no way of knowing if your family have arrived, have been transferred or are in theatre."

They couldn't take names straight away. Some people weren't in any fit state to give their names or ask about their families. Their job as doctors was to patch people up and get them safely into theatre or onto a ward.

"If you go out into the gardens, the emergency services will set up tents and take names. They will help you find your family, but I can't have you taking up time and resources in here if you are fit and able to wait outside. Please."

It sounded harsh, but this was an emergency like no other. Eddie had no space for people to sit here and people-watch, waiting for their families to come in or to hear any news they were desperately seeking.

The emergency services and some of the hospital reception staff would already be setting up tents outside. They took names and cross-referenced against those who had been able to give their names on arrival. They checked for people on wards, people in the morgue and those who were dead but yet to be identified.

Once the man nodded, Eddie pointed at someone to check them over and guide the group of people out who had green wristbands.

He turned to face the reception desk, taking deep breaths to try and calm down the tremors that were rattling through him. But his brows furrowed and he sighed when he looked at the desk. Papers were scattered everywhere. Some were drenched in water from the patients who came in, scrambling for help at the desk. Others were scribbled so hastily that Eddie couldn't make head nor tail of the words.

"Janice, what is going on here?" His hands fumbled around, motioning to all the paperwork.

"I've had over two hundred people to sign in and send upstairs-"

"How do you know which ones are which?"

Her lack of reply had Eddie running his hands over his face with a deep, grumble that racked his chest and had his jaw locking in place. Could no one organise in this mess? Had they all forgotten how to cope in a disaster? It had only been a year since the Earthquake and Eddie had worked three days straight during that period.

They had a great system during that disaster, did everyone just forget how to cope and how to function in times like these?

"Dios, we can't work like this-"

"What do you want me to do? Doctor?" She added on quietly at the end, looking down to her hands when she realised she might just be speaking a bit out of term to a senior doctor.

"I want you to organise this desk. Forget about filing the paperwork, okay? Blank paper is what you need. Get people to write their names down if they can, one page for green, one for amber, one for red. Keep them in piles, then we know where people are when we have to log into the system after everyone's sorted. Get rid of this shit, start over."

Eddie's abdomen dug into the desk while he grabbed a large stack of paperwork and tossed it behind the desk onto the floor.

Forms were no good in an emergency, things needed to be plain and simple. Names, where they were being sent, that was all they needed right now. No insurance forms, no past discharge notes, just the main details. Names, dates of birth, allergies, that was it.

When Janice nodded, Eddie spun on his heels and looked around. Everyone was listening to him, people were more organised and it meant the nurses fluttering around here were helping the right people and they weren't stuck like headless chickens.

"If you just sit down here-"

"If he's amber sit on the left, if he's red move to the right but not in front of the bloody doors please." Eddie snapped, pointing across at the young nurse who was just about to sit an elderly man in front of the back doors that led off to the X-ray corridor.

Did people not use their brains? Where they all shutting down and waiting for Eddie to take charge? Was he going to have to order them all around and do their jobs for them? They couldn't sit someone in front of the doors because if they swung open that poor man would be knocked flying and he would be in a worse shape than when he arrived.

He could see the nurse bite down on her lip as if she might start crying and it made Eddie's heart spasm. But she held herself together. She put on a shallow smile and helped shuffle the man to the left and sit him down next to a cot bed with a young woman on.

"Doctor Diaz?" A timid voice broke Eddie out of his thoughts and had him spinning on his heels.

A young nurse. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, maybe younger, he wasn't sure. Both her hands were clasped together in front of her and her fingers were scratching at the back of her hands. Her arms were shaking, elbows were pinned into her waist and her shoulders were hunched and pulled forwards.

She looked like she needed medical help with how anxious she was and Eddie wasn't sure if she was about to be sick or not. Tears were in her eyes and she was breathing shallow.

"Yes?" His tone was softer than before and he tried to smile to calm her down but it didn't seem to work.

"What- um, what do we do with the bodies?"

Her words stunned Eddie and he took a cautious look around. He had seen people looking like they were on Death's door, but no one seemed to have passed away yet. But when the nurse shakily pointed over her shoulder, Eddie saw.

He saw the body of a teenager, just a few years older than his own son. Not breathing. Not moving. Laid languidly on a cot bed as if he was passed out.

Eddie ran a hand across his face and took a strangled breath through his fingers.

He could feel his hands about to tremble with the adrenaline shooting through his system. He reached out, tensing his fingers to keep his hand from shaking and he gave her shoulder a squeeze before he spun to face the reception desk.

His nimble fingers scoured through the paperwork behind the desk until he found what he was looking for.

A black lanyard. A rectangle piece of paper, as black as night and as scratchy as hay. There were white lines for a name to be written across and a time, date and cause of death.

"Johnston! Gurney." Eddie waved the nurse over and walked the younger nurse back towards the patient. He handed her the lanyard. "Do we have a name?"

She shook her head.

"Then take him towards X-ray, out the side doors and into the foyer… he needs to be laid with the unidentified and recorded."

Eddie didn't want her taking the teen out through the ER doors. People were still coming in. No one deserved or needed to see a dead body being wheeled out, it would cause panic and it wasn't respectful. If they had a name then he could have been taken to the morgue. Without a name, he had to be laid in the tent with the other unidentified and the easiest way to get there without alarming people was through the X-ray corridor.

This was going to be a long day, and it had only just begun.

***

"We're nearly there, you just hang on for me, okay?" Tremors rattled through Buck's voice and gave away the sheer desperation welling up inside of him.

He continued to push the gurney with his right hand while his left hand deadlocked around his sister's palm. He could feel her hand, a mixture of sweat and salt water dribbling between their fingers, squeezing his tightly. And her nails that were split and had layers of mud stuck beneath them were scratching into the back of his hand. Holding tightly to let him know she was still hanging on, just like he asked.

The emergency room doors parted easily and allowed the 118 to glide straight through, but Buck's voice boomed over the rest of the sounds like a siren, demanding to be heard.

"Diaz! Where's Doctor Diaz?"

"Sir, we're very-"

"Get me Doctor Diaz now!" Buck all but slammed his foot down on the glistening tiled floor that was littered with smudges of blood, dirt and puddles of salt water that was as brown as milk chocolate.

He needed his brother in law. He needed Eddie. (Y/n) needed a doctor and the only one she needed right now was her husband.

Eddie spun on his heels, pen light clasped between his teeth and stethoscope hung around his neck. He looked over his shoulder, hands paused in mid air as he crouched in front of a young boy he was trying to assess.

It wasn't enough to direct people in the ER and try to create a system, Eddie was still a doctor and until he was called up to surgery, he had to assess people down here. He had to do his fair share, or more than his fair share when no one here seemed to be able to do their jobs properly. Eddie had assessed patients, sent them to X-ray, sent others to an MRI.

He had done CPR on an elderly woman, a tracheotomy on a middle-aged man choking on what he had inhaled during the floods. And he had the harsh job of sending another three people to the unidentified tent out in the foyer when they passed away.

But he knew that voice.

He knew that loud, sometimes obnoxious, but mostly caring voice that had risen an octave and sounded as distressed as Eddie had ever heard him.

Buck. His brother in law. Eddie thought his brother in law would be working today, this was an emergency and he knew Buck was all for helping anyone he could. But Eddie hadn't thought he would see Buck today, he thought their jobs would keep them separate and he would see him in a few days to talk and go over what had gone on today.

"Buck?" Paranoia flooded Eddie's voice as he narrowed his eyes and looked around the emergency room.

He found Buck easily. That sandy blond hair, damp and curled to the max. Those broad shoulders, towering over everyone else within reach. Those ocean blue eyes that held so much pain and panic within them that it physically made Eddie feel sick.

"Buck, what are you…"

(Y/n).

His wife. There she was. Not safely tucked up at home. Not at home snuggled up with Chris watching a movie or listening intently to the news.

She was laid on the gurney, looking worse for wear and clinging to her brother's hand.

What had happened?

"No, no no!" The pen light dropped to his feet, his hands began to shake and his shoes clicked against the floor as he skidded over towards his wife.

He didn't know the other people gathered round the gurney, but it didn't take much to work out that they had to be Buck's team who he worked with. There were three of them, to be exact, all gathered round the gurney like they were waiting for a premonition to take place.

The moment he reached the gurney, Eddie was stooping over. His trembling hands cupped (Y/n)'s face that was damp, although he couldn't tell whether it was sweat or sea water. His thumbs glided over her cheeks that were a mix of hot and cold all together, all at once. He creased his abdomen to double over the gurney and his elbows pinned into (Y/n)'s arms.

She shakily let go of her brother's hand and tried to open her eyes. They were still burning like the fires of Hell from all the water. She could barely breathe. She couldn't see properly. Eddie's figure looming over her was almost as if she was seeing an angel, guiding her to the afterlife.

A halo of light surrounded Eddie's frame, but (Y/n) just managed to make out the creases around his eyes, the bridge of his nose and those ruby red lips that were barely touching her own.

"Mi amor," Eddie didn't trust himself to speak properly and he couldn't drag his eyes away from his wife.

He pecked her lips, feeling just how frozen cold they felt against his own and it made him cringe. His thumbs continued to glide across her cheeks while he tilted his head to the right and looked up at his brother in law.

"Eddie," (Y/n)'s voice was quiet and each breath she took hitched higher than the last, but the look in her eyes had Eddie's heart breaking. She was relieved. She was staring at him like she had taken a long pilgrimage and had finally found safety and sanctuary with him.

She knew she was safe now.

"What happened- w-where's Chris?"

"We found them clinging on top of a swamped fire truck. Chris is in our truck, h-he's fine I swear. But you need to help her."

A small ounce of relief dwelled in Eddie's stomach. His son was safe. Chris was patched up and clearly didn't need any medical attention like (Y/n) did. They had found both of them and managed to get them out of the wreckage. (Y/n) had been saved by her brother and his team. She had managed to stay with Chris and not get separated, at least, not for very long. They had both been found.

"Let me look at you, mi amor." He hushed quietly and pecked her lips again before he reeled up enough to assess her.

His hands wandered up and down, checking for any deep abrasions or broken bones or anything that didn't seem right.

Both (Y/n)'s arms were pinned to her chest, but she deadlocked her hands around Eddie's arm. Tears flushed her face, sniffles and gasps left her split lips and she was trembling back and forth. Her knees were lifted up like she was trying to curl up and get into the fetal position to make herself feel better.

Eddie could see hundreds of cuts littering her arms and her exposed chest. Her shirt had been cut down the middle, presumably so they could assess her chest and there was a cut just under her fifth rib. It didn't look extensive, but it would need stitches.

When he tried to press down on her abdomen, (Y/n)'s knees jolted up and a mewling sob left her lips. Her head tilted back into the gurney, pushing her throat out and she gurgled through each breath.

"Hurts!"

"Shh, sorry baby, I'm sorry. Let me see, please." He gently moved her arms away so he could assess again but when he pressed down on the right side of her abdomen just above her hip, she coiled inwards again. "Intestine's ruptured. Shit."

"I'll go sit with Chris." Chimney patted Buck's shoulder before he jogged out, they didn't want to leave Chris sat on his own for too long.

"Her breathing's very laboured and mismatched." Hen had tried to assess (Y/n)'s chest, but she was still breathing. Every now and then she would cough or take five sharp, thin breaths all at once. She couldn't hear any water in her lungs and she was still breathing so that couldn't be the case.

Eddie swiped the stethoscope from his neck and pressed them to his ears. He let (Y/n) smother her face against his right arm while he leaned over her and pressed the stethoscope against her back to listen to her lungs.

But he suddenly felt (Y/n)'s forehead slamming into his arm and her fingers scraped through his jacket sleeves, digging into his arm so tightly she was cutting off his circulation.

He dropped the stethoscope and reached forward, taking the small torch light from Hen's top pocket before she could ask what he was doing.

He twisted (Y/n) so she was laying on her left side, facing him as he crouched down in front of the gurney.

"Open. Open up."

Eddie shone the light in her mouth and squinted to try and see if there was any obstruction.

(Y/n) clasped her fingers around his wrist, closing her eyes tightly as she started to shake. Something didn't feel right. Her chest felt constricted, her lungs weren't opening up and taking proper breaths anymore. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She could feel someone's hand at the back of her neck and when she started to cough, her body shuddered and she jerked her legs out when Eddie's hand moved to her mouth.

"I'm sorry- baby just keep breathing it's okay." Eddie grimaced as water spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips and dripped down onto the floor. He pushed his fingers past her lips towards the back of her throat, hating the way she squirmed and tried to push him away, but he could see she was choking on something.

Buck wrapped an arm around his front and gagged, turning his head away when he watched Eddie slowly pull a long stream of either seaweed or some sort of tangled up plant from (Y/n)'s lips. She must have inhaled it during the struggle when the first wave hit. She didn't even know she had inhaled that into her lungs.

Eddie tossed the seaweed onto the floor by his feet, shaking his hand, relieved he was wearing gloves for doing that.

"Janice!" He tossed his head to look over his shoulder at the receptionist who was dumbstruck, unsure what to do. "Find me an OR and a surgical team. Ruptured intestine, I need to operate now."

"Um… theatre four, floor two should be free."

"Someone bring Chris."

Eddie reeled up back to his full height, grabbed the edge of the stretcher and began steering them towards the back corridor through the middle of the ER. Chris could come up, he could wait in Eddie's office where Buck could wait with him once (Y/n) was in theatre and being looked after.

This was his worst nightmare. This was something Eddie had always been fearful of. Having his wife and son caught up in something horrid like this. He had been extremely lucky last year that Chris had been safe at school and (Y/n) had been at home when the Earthquake hit. Both of them had been out the way and in no danger.

Not like today. They had been caught up in this natural disaster and now Eddie had to operate on his wife. He had never done this before. He had stitched (Y/n) up at home a few times, but he had never had to operate on her or have her need any type of hospitalisation like this.

He wasn't supposed to operate on family members. It was too dangerous in case something happened or she died or Eddie made a mistake. But this was an emergency. All their staff had been redirected, no one was where they were supposed to be. Any doctor was being diverted to any theatre, operating room, ward and scan that they could to observe and help and intervene.

Eddie didn't have time to wait around for another colleague to come over and operate on (Y/n). He had done this procedure hundreds of times before and he wasn't going to trust anyone else to look after his wife the way he would.

"E-Eddie," (Y/n) gave a soft tug on Eddie's hand that she had confiscated and pinned against her chest. She could barely open her eyes to look up at him, but she was relieved when he leaned down and kissed her temple.

She managed to focus enough to watch him scan his badge against the doors and guide them out of the emergency room and into a more secluded corridor with less casualties around ever corner.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Don't l…leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere without you, mi amor." He kissed the back of her hand before the three of them crammed into the lift.

Bobby was hanging back with Hen, waiting for Chimney to come out with Chris so they could catch them up. The team weren't leaving, they would wait and stay with Buck so they could comfort him and wait on any news of his little sister. It had been a stroke of luck that they had found (Y/n) rather than any other team. Buck had made it his mission to look after his sister and he told them exactly which hospital to go to, although none of them had known why Buck was fixated on this hospital. Until they saw Eddie.

Once they were up on the second floor, Eddie flagged down a passing nurse before he turned to face Buck.

"My office is around that corner, second door on the left. I'll find you as soon as it's done." He unclipped his keycard from his scrubs and handed it over. Buck was welcome to wait in his office, Chris had been in there hundreds of times before so he would know where to go and he would be okay there. Chris had a few of his books in the office to occupy him.

Once Buck headed back into the lift so he could go find the rest of the team, Eddie began his descent down the corridor, pushing the gurney single-handed.

"Okay, reception said we have an emergency?" Cranston placed his hands on his hips and stood outside the empty operating room he had been told to get scrubbed up for another surgery.

But once his eyes landed on the girl on the stretcher, his hands fell at his sides and he shook his head. (Y/n). He had seen her here many times when she came to visit Eddie or when she brought Chris down for a visit. Eddie couldn't be here for this. He couldn't be the leading surgeon, he wasn't allowed.

"No, Diaz you can't-"

"No one else is touching my wife. I'm her doctor now, got it?"

[batfam-my-beloved]

AU where Batman has a "no killing" rule but that only applies to Batman

Bruce understands that people have their own form of morality and justice. He's not going to fault a soldier for doing what they have to do to protect people. It's just that he personally would probably never go that far. Not that he can't, mind you, he's fucking Batman! Just that the mental and emotional toll would fuck him up so bad he'd be a danger to himself and society.

So when it comes to his murder happy children his rule for them is: "Wait until you're 18."

Bruce: "Dickie, I know Tony Zucco killed your parents and he deserves WAY worse than a punctured lung, two broken legs, a fractured skull, and a dislocated shoulder. But you're also 10 yrs old and the parenting books say that murder at such a young age is not good for a child's emotional development. So how bout we keep him locked up in jail, good and tight, and if you're still mad about it when you turn 18 then you can have at it. Sound good chum?"

Dick, pouting and kicking rocks: "I guess."

Tim "forever 17" Drake is just counting down the days until his 18th birthday because that mother fucker has a list. He doesn't mind waiting because he god damn knows there are worse things than death one can do to someone.

Damien has been killing since he could walk and hold up a sword, so when he comes to live with his father under the "no killing until 18" rule he is NOT happy about it. Until his brothers start poking fun at him.

Damien, pouting: "It isn't fair! Todd gets to go out and kill people!"

Bruce: "Jason is over 18 yrs."

Jason: "Yeah! And besides, its not my fault you're just uncreative in how you beat up bad guys!"

Damien: "What is that supposed to mean!"

Tim: "It means that there are worse things than death but you're just too dumb to know it."

Damien, furious: "Am not!"

Jason and Tim, teasing: "Are too!"

Damien: "AM NOT!"

Jason and Tim: "Are tooooo!"

Dick, tired: "Guys, stop making fun of him. He's just gunna take it as a challenge."

Damien, determined: "Well I accept this challenge! I'll provide my superiority as a vigilantly by taking out the enemy in non-lethal yet appropriately brutal ways of punishment! Just you watch!"

Bruce, weary yet appeased: "Well at least he's not gunna attempt murder for a while."

Jason didn't come with an automatic kill switch so Bruce didn't really have to worry about it. But then Jason died and Dick got to see first hand as to why Bruce had a no killing rule for himself. The insurmountable destruction, the overall apathy for the harm to others around him, the deep seated rage ready to just destroy everything he comes in contact with. Alfred tells Dick that they need to stop him because Bruce won't just stop at the Joker, he'll go after Jason's mother (in this au I'm making Sheila live for the extra angst factor)and whoever else he deems even remotely responsible for the death of his son. Bruce won't care if it starts wars and conflict across nations, he will NOT stop until he gets his revenge.

So they stop him, practically have to sedated Bruce with enough tranquilizers to put down an elephant 10x over. And then they lock the Joker up in the deepest underground pits of Arkham with a broken spine and enough security measures that it's very much impossible to brake him out least you're the Batman himself. Bruce isn't happy about it at first but Alfred and Dick are there with him through it all and it helps a lot.

When Jason comes back he still doesn't know about the "no killing until your 18" rule, nor does he know the reason WHY Batman doesn't kill. So he's still angry and does his whole thing as Red Hood but when he reveals himself to Batman as Jason Todd Bruce is just so happy to see him again. And Jason is confused cuz like: "I just killed a bunch of people, aren't you disappointed?"

And Bruce is like: "I am a bit mad that you hurt Tim but other than that you are technically over 18 yrs old now so I'm going to assume you understand the weight and responsibility that is put upon you when killing someone."

Jason, softly: "What...the fuck?"

Then Jason quickly snaps back into gear with his plan, demands Bruce to choose between killing the Joker or him and Bruce hits back with: "Oh, I'd like nothing more than to kill Joker but I promised Dick and Alfred I wouldn't after almost starting an international war that one time."

Jason, extremely frustrated that his plan isn't going how he wanted to: "What. The. Fuck!"

So Jason dips and tracks down Dick so he could explain what the hell was going on. And Dick does explain. He explains the absolute monster Bruce almost turned into when Jason was murdered and how Bruce would most definitely not stop at the Joker if given the chance.

Dick: "You don't understand Jay, it was bad! Like really, really bad! He was going to kill your mom!"

Jason, shocked: "The fuck?!"

Dick: "He still has her on a tracker! We found him just before he killed Joker, but he still managed to paralyze him from the neck down!"

Jason, slightly disturbed: "That was him!"

Dick: "He was beating Joker's ass with a crowbar! And even after we managed to sedated Bruce and pull him off the clown we still had to make sure that Joker was locked up good and tight underground because if Bruce even caught a glimpse of him in a photo he'd go into another spiral!"

Jason, horrified: "What....the fuuuuuck???"

[lost-in-fandoms]

Maxiel soulmates AU in which people get numbers (numbers, dates, timestamps, coordinates...) on their wrist for important events in their soulmate's life.

For a long time Daniel's parents think he's broken.

They don't use quite those words obviously, but they're worried enough to make him think that there's something wrong with him. It's not unusual to not get soulmarks when you're very young, not many important things happen to toddlers, but when he turns eight and there's still no sign of any, they take him to a doctor. The doctor tells them not to worry, that maybe his soulmate is a late bloomer, or maybe a couple of years younger. They'll come.

When he turns ten, they take him to a specialist, who does all sort of things to him, from drawing blood to reaction tests to even a brain scan, but turns up empty handed. They'll come, is all she can say.

Daniel doesn't really care. He's eleven now, and he thinks all this soulmates stuff is a bit dumb. If you were meant to be with someone, why wouldn't the universe make it easier to find your way to them? Why would it put any sort of numbers on your skin instead of just a pair of coordinates and a date and a big old "MEET HERE" above it? Plus, plenty of people are happy without their soulmate. Some people can't afford to run after the numbers that appear on their skin, and they still find love. Daniel doesn't even want a soulmate anyway.

The day after he turns twelve he gets his first soulmark. It's just a small 2 on the inside of his wrist, but his mom cries over it. Daniel bites at it when he's alone in his room, before it disappears, wishing his soulmate could feel it.

They come more often after that, mostly random numbers and dates, but one day, when he's sixteen, a pair of coordinates. He tells himself he doesn't care, he's just curious, but he still looks them up. Turns out it's some place in northern France and, without his consent, his brain starts conjuring an image of his soulmate: a pretty french girl, with a long brown braid.

He's in Italy when he gets the second pair of coordinates, after a few years of just incomprehensible numbers, and for a moment he doesn't know how to react. She's in Italy too. Not that far away from him actually. He could probably take a train there, or a bus, if he wanted to.

But he doesn't want to. He has things to do, and he doesn't care about his soulmate anyway.

The coordinates keep coming from time to time, among the numbers. They're almost always scattered around Europe (France, Spain, Italy, Belgium....) and even when he knows he could probably get there in a reasonable amount of time he never goes.

He has gotten into the habit of recording all the soulmarks he gets in a small notebook his mom had given him years and years ago, just out of curiosity. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly lonely, he goes through the pages, rubbing his finger over the recorded dates and numbers.

Sometimes he wonders what she gets from him. Did she get the date of when he got into a kart for the first time? Maybe the coordinates of the first race he won? The number of his first Formula Renault car?

Some other times he tries to make sense of all the numbers he got (2, 18, 3, 24, 30, 110, 1...), wonders if she maybe moves around a lot and those are the numbers of her hotel rooms, or her address, of her seat on a flight. Usually he remembers he doesn't care before he can find any pattern to it.

One thing that he was not ready for when he finally reaches Formula 1 is how many questions about soulmates he was going to get. Reporters are of course always asking if he has "found her yet", but even the drivers are nosy, asking if he plans on getting to her next coordinates, or if he has figured anything out about her. Sebastian tells him about the time he had found his soulmate, when they were both still in high school. She had gotten a timestamp, something Daniel has never gotten, and when the time had come she had found herself sitting next to Sebastian on a bus. There had been no date, but it hadn't been necessary. They had both just known.

Daniel tries his best to never talk about soulmates with Sebastian again.

He still writes all the dates and numbers (he recently added a 33 to his collection) in his notebook, but, as he tells anyone who asks, he's here to race, not to go on a wild goose chase. If it happens it happens, if not, he'll still be happy.

Max is both quieter and louder than Sebastian. He's awkward and a bit shy, but when Daniel manages to make him laugh for the first time he's so loud Daniel almost startles. Max has a bracelet over his wrist, covering the spot where his soulmarks must appear. Daniel doesn't ask about it.

In Spain, after the race, Daniel finds the day's date on his wrist. It looks a little bigger than usual, maybe, but he doesn't know what that could mean. He doesn't really care. It's funny though how many people seem to be having an important day that day.

Max asks about his soulmate only once. They're in Malaysia and they're both drunk and Daniel is starting to consider if it's morally and physically wrong to get both him and Max another shot when Max brings it up.

"Your soulmate..." he says, finger almost touching the 2 on Daniel's wrist. Daniel tenses, doesn't know if he wants Max to draw back or draw closer, but Max does neither thing, just hovering there. It feels like standing a little too close to an old cable TV, and Daniel drags his arm away.

"What about her?" he asks, harsher than he meant to be. He sees Max stiffen a little, but doesn't really care. He doesn't want to have this conversation, especially not here and not now.

"Do you think you will want to find them one day?" There's something in Max's voice, something too complicated for Daniel to decipher. If Max is still able to have a coherent conversation about soulmates, it means Daniel is going to have to get him that shot.

"I don't care," he says, hoping Max gets from his tone that the conversation is over. When he sees him frown and open his mouth again though, he knows he's going to have to deviate further.

He pushes his shoulder against Max's, jostling him before slinging his arm around his neck, subtly pointing at the people around the club.

"Besides," he murmurs directly in Max's ears. He feels him shiver and press closer, so he raises his voice slightly. "Why would I need some French girl, when there's plenty of available ones here, yeah?"

He feels Max freeze against him, but he's already pushing off, laughing. As far as he's concerned, this conversation is over. He has drinks to drink and girls to kiss. He's a winner today, who cares about all this bullshit anyway?

Max never asks again.

From time to time, Daniel feels him looking, but Max is always looking at him anyway. It's easy to ignore when his wrist is the object of his focus.

Things start seriously going downhill during 2018. The car is unreliable, the team's focus has clearly shifted to Max, Daniel feels rejected and disrespected. Things with Max are still mostly good outside the track, but in the garage the tension is rising and rising. Daniel knows it's going to snap, everyone knows it, he just isn't expecting it to snap because of him crashing in the back of his own fucking teammate.

He's never felt like this, livid with rage and so much disappointment he doesn't even know how to deal with it. He's mean in the interviews, angry in the debrief, snappy with Michael. When he sees Max walking towards him while he's trying to leave the paddock, a hole in the shape of his fist left behind, he glares hard enough to make anyone run. But not Max, of course. He tries to talk to him, tries to explain, again, why it wasn't his fault. Daniel just tells him to get lost, barely stops himself from raising his fist again.

He's had enough. Of the car, of the team, of Max. He wants to be left alone. Obviously though the universe has decided that he's not suffered enough for a day, because when he finally gets to his hotel room there are numbers on the inside of his wrist. Coordinates.

Without really meaning to, he finds himself looking them up. Closing the tab, opening it again, carefully putting them in, once, twice, three more times.

Baku. The coordinates are in the paddock.

He feels nauseous. His hands are shaking when he goes to grab his notebook. Everything suddenly makes terrible sense. Not getting soulmarks for so long, the coordinates all around Europe, the karting numbers. Spain 2016. The 33.

He turns the pages, hoping the numbers will change, hoping he is making it all up. Irritatingly though, Sebastian had been right once again. He just knows. His soulmate isn't some pretty girl waiting for him in France.

His soulmate is Max Verstappen.

[shadowfear-art]

Finally finished the "Power Rangers/Super Sentai au"

The premise of the story (has probably been done before), is humanity has found the element that created gods from myths in all around the world. And of course every power hungry person wants a piece to study or use to ascend to a higher being, leading to two options of "hero's vs villains"

The first option of using said element is via a technological suit, upside that it can regulate the element's chaotic energy and allowing its user to exceed their normal human potential. Down side the suit needs constant maintenance from the power's constant wear and tear, if broken the suit becomes useless leaving the user practically naked.

The second option, usually done by villains, is infusion. Various methods to do this but ultimately absorbing the element into the body and becoming vastly stronger which leads to change one's physical form, the draw back is there is a percentage of how much the human body can handle currently before failing (60%-65). If a failure occurs the person in question becomes a monster, powerful but dumbed down and subservient. Your typical monsters of the week, bad guy that are usually followers of those who didn't fail.

Which our story leads to Crocodile, a young CEO on the villains side funding their research on heightening the current infusion percentage. He wants power but isn't foolish enough to jump to the opportunity like everyone else only to fail or be beaten by a Revolutionary Ranger (or any other similar group).

Being smug when competing funders like himself fail he definitely ruffled some feathers leading to betrayal and kidnapping of Crocodile (speaking of birds, Doflamingo isn't part of this race for power yet until a few three-ish years later)

With the intent of absolutely humiliating the young CEO, Crocodile was infused at 100% purposely to cause him to become a failure monster. Which worked but not in the way anyone would ever expect.

Sand Croc couldn't be controlled and worse yet could not be contained baffling everyone as the large reptile rampaged all over the city for months.

The only person to come close to capturing the beast is Dragon, leader of the Revolutionary Rangers, his relationship with the CEO is complicated as the two were romantic but the sides that each took made it impossible to continue said relationship. And honestly neither are over each other which brings Dragon to uncovering why Sand Croc is acting the way he is ...

100% infusion is terrifying when successful.

[baddecisionsgoooo0]

Timestuck Soos

So, Timestuck is one of my favorite AU's, and there's been a lot of sub au's (Young Stan and Ford go to the 80's, young stan and ford end up in 2012, Dipper and Mabel end up in 1960 something, Wendy gets transported, etc.)

My idea is Soos is the one transported back in time.

Soos is already Mr. Mystery, so he knows all the drama. He's repairing something around the shack when he accidently grabs a time tape and just zoops back to shortly after Stan gets kicked out.

Soos is slightly confused (not in the "wtf is going on" way but in the "Hmm... oh cool, it's my turn to time travel), but he sees his pretty much adopted father (I headcanon Stan adopts Soos post show) down in the dumps, and decides to help Stan.

Meanwhile, Stan is confused. This big guy who looks kinda like a gopher just showed up, recognized him, and then proceeds to act like an older brother/ father (something Stan has no idea how to deal with).

Soos effectively becomes a perfect distraction for any of Stan's cons, while also teaching Stan some new cons. Dumb cons, like pretending Soos is a descendant of Paul Bunyan. and then getting chased out of Minnesota by the actual descendants of Paul Bunyan,

Eventually, Stan and Soos head towards Gravity Falls. Soos shuts down every argument between Stan and Ford because it's Soos. Bill tries to convince Ford not to trust Soos, but Soos is literally so pure Ford just... ignores Bill.

Eventually, everything is resolved and Soos is like, "Alright dudes, I gotta head home now."

Stan is concerned. "Wait, wasn't your time-doohickey broken?"

Soos laughs "Oh yeah dude. but only for the first week or so. I fixed it within, like, a week."

"So... you could have just gone home at any point?" Stan asks.

"I mean, yeah. But I wasn't gonna abandon you, Mr. Pines."

[fancyfeathers]

okay cause normalized yandere AUs are sort of my thing here are my 3 AM thoughts I had last night about Genshin in this AU

Okay first off cause Mondstadt’s whole thing is freedom I think keeping a darling or even this sort of love would be looked down upon if not entirely illegal. So in this AU I think Mondstadt would be the only normal place, a sanctuary for anyone. Also, taking inspiration from @writing-genshin-obsession (go check them out, I love their thoughts) idea on Venti sensing when someone’s freedom is taken, I think Venti would have very strong feelings and do his absolute best to keep those in Mondstadt who came for protection safe and free.

Liyue on the other hand I think would be a lot less kind. I see this place deeply rooted in its traditions so I would think things like an arranged marriage would be extremely common and even encouraged. A contact that doesn’t just bind two people but two families, so if that darling wants a divorce oh that’s fine, but it’ll effect your entire family and I don’t think they will like that. I think for Zhongli’s darling, they have been married for hundreds of years, they want to leave him so badly but he has broken down everything they have, crack by crack, deal by deal, so now the only rock they have is the archon who has completely destroyed their life outside of him.

Inazuma is a bit hard to place, I think it would be semi normal, like a mixture of normal couples and unhealthy relationships. Like characters like Ayato would keep a darling but I don’t think characters like Kazuha would. I do think the Grand Narukami Shrine would almost be a sanctuary like Mondstadt is, well only if you are a shrine maiden and only if you don’t catch the eye of the local archon.

Sumeru is hard to place, I do think it would be encouraged and people in power would most definitely have darlings. I do think many of these pairs would come along via being students of the  Akademiya, young love as they say. But I do think yandere like Alhaitham or Kaveh would like darlings of lesser intelligence of them, not completely dumb but ones who may be clueless so they can explain these little things to them, like why darlings are safe with people like them or just plain out belittling them for how little they know and tell them that they would never survive without them.

Fontaine it would definitely feel normal, for lack of a better word. Oh you’ll be courted like normal, dates, flowers, gifts, and so on, all out in public, every relationship looks healthy. Couple will court, date, marry and then it’s too late. The toxicity of the relationship will show and when one asks for a divorce a yandere like Neuvillette will only sigh and tell them to calm down before revealing that divorce is not legal in this nation. Just be a good a spouse and look pretty and you’ll be fine.

[cigarettesaftersae]

Homesick 01

Sae Itoshi - 01

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: sae x f!reader | childhoodlovers!au,

Stuck in a small town near the coast with a previous crush on a boy who returns after years

Fire seems ethereal, whereas candles on a cake appear simple. So, what would happen if the candles on the cake were lit? Is it child's play? A special celebration? It was just a birthday cake, some simple singing, and phew. Gone. Do you feel eighteen yet? What was so wonderful about birthdays, anyway? Aside from receiving free gifts, and dying slowly. The next day will be frigid, as you would expect.

The seasons vary, from icy winters to blossoming springtime, flaming summers, and fading autumn. You would expect something to change over the course of these 18 years. Waking up the day following your birthday seemed different, possibly more hectic, but it has always been this way. So perhaps not changing. Difficult? yeah..

The only time you felt something that was different, somewhat changing, or …a feeling? Was when you were a kid, but there is always something to be joyful about. But this was like a stop in motion. His teal eyes, earth tone red hair, and mostly those long under eyelashes. Wish I could cut them up and use them. But mostly, it was his cold, blunt, and nonchalant personality. Or maybe it was all of it. To be youthful, talented, and beautiful was the dream of all, and he was right over there. You’d see him occasionally in the town when shopping with your mama, playing in the park, or on the beach. Usually if he wasn’t with his brother that you’d assume, he’d be playing with a soccer ball. And you’re on the swings alone as you watch him from afar. Just alone, juggling the ball so smoothly with his foot. For such a young age, he was good and you weren’t even an expert on soccer. For a second, he looks up at you, making faint eye contact. As soon as you realize his notice, you go back to kicking the ground floor to give you a small push on the swings, eyeing the ground like it was your favorite color. Slowly, you look back up to see him playing with the soccer ball once more. The wind blew through the strands of his red hair so calmly, his youthful skin so smoothly. You were almost envies of everything he possessed.

“So pretty…” you mumble quietly under your breath

You break free from your thoughts, believing it was all a ploy from the air getting worse. Walking over to the venting machine to get a drink for your thirsty mouth, you notice the red-haired boy trying to get a drink as well. Only, he appeared to be having problems with the machine. His expression was angry, pretty, but angry. In a quick moment, you notice he picks up his leg, motioning it to kick it, hard.

“That won’t work.” you speak up softly but quick before he makes any damage contact with the machine. He carefully puts his feet down as you walk up to press the buttons labeled for your desire drink, placing in the coins then both watching it successfully come out.

“This thing is… dumb” His voice sound so smooth, like the ocean sea. You could listen to him all day. “Did you even punch in the right label?” You ask

“Of course I did, the machine is broken.”

“Didn’t seem like it”

A moment of awkward cold silence fills the atmosphere as you two simply look at each other.

“It's broken”

“This drink is really refreshing; did you know it came from this venting machine?”

“It's broken.” He repeats once more but sterner and firmer, yet you couldn’t help but admire the tune of his voice flowing in the air, and his dreamy icy eyes, and fluffy hair messy bangs. You slightly giggle, “Which one did you want?”

“The taro drink..”

With ease, you punch in the labels for the taro drink, waiting for its arrival. You hand it to his delicate hands,

“Thanks..” he said nonchalantly

From there you parted ways, no name, not a look back or twice. It was the only time you talked. He remained a small town crush until one day he suddenly disappeared in the beginning midst of highschool. You didn’t even go to the same school. Just gone, all you had was the memories from afar. Not even a name. What was his name again?

You remain present in the early morning at 5 am.. Each wind blowing conveys these peaceful leaf designs, building up like a blizzard yet remaining utterly unique in its mist. The grass breathes its green hue, and the birds sing their tunes awake as you stroll to your local town café. The old lady who works there has always liked your presence and regards you with courtesy. After getting your drink and a little breakfast, you sat in a quiet corner to enjoy your period of solitary. It has always been like this: serene, alone, and dull. It's a rerun; you'd do everything to get out of here, to change your life, to experience anything enjoyable. Now you're not emotionless, cold, and nonchalant. You still possess human emotions, however you grown bored of these emotions. Its like a habit you’ve grown too good for. You felt everything so much but could feel nothing so much.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard the bell on the door ring. In reflex, you turn your head to see who. You were to late to see his face but saw the back of his head. Red hair..

The lady who ran this place, Maria, smiled like no other when she saw him. Maybe a friend you guessed. It was none of your business, but you noticed Maria’s wrinkle hands take the male’s hands in her to hold warmly. You couldn't make out the conversation but it seemed so joyful, so full of love. It was beautiful to see. But it was none of your business, so with a last look you return to eating and finishing your drink. By then the male was gone and you didn’t even notice with you being in your own world.

--

In this world stood Sae Itoshi back in the air of the hometown. He had greeted with his parents after a long way from Spain. He remained on difficult terms with his brother however. Nonetheless, he took this day to relax. Revisiting old friendly faces, he remembered one very kind old lady who owned a small cafe. Sae always took fascination in her bakery and caring smile. Always treated him like his own. He walks in the small cafe early morning, not many people around but noticed a girl alone with her coffee and drink but her face the other way. An old man by the window reading a book with steaming coffee accompanying him. With each step gained him closer to be in the eye sight of Maria. Instantly the ends of her lips widen into a smile for the sight of Sae.

“Oh who is this beautiful young man?” Maria chuckles in joy

“Its felt like years since I’ve last seen you sweet boy, how are you? Was your flight back okay? Would you like something to get?” She was so welcoming, in between her talk she had gently picked up Sae’s hand to hold and cherish

“Everything was perfectly fine Maria. How were you?” All the sayings of the cold, blunt, nonchalant Sae Itoshi seemed so fake in this moment. His tone usually unfriendly turned to somewhat soft and kind to Maria.

“Oh you know me, living day by day, these old hands just make coffee and bakery treats for ya”

“We always appreciate your hardwork. Did you need any help in the back?”

“Aw did you really come back to just help me with the shop? So sweet really but youre a young man. Go out, and have fun”

“Ah well I only find that in soccer”

“No no not soccer… have you ever fell inlove?”

“I have no desire for… love”

“Not even a crush? I'm just playjng with you sweetheart. Did you come here just to visit?”

Her words sinked in him, love? He never really thought of it, moreover he thought it was useless and soccer only mattered. And it will only and always matter.

“Yes, and..I would like a coffee, not too much sugar. It wont be healthy for my diet.”

“Coming right up”

“Not even a crush?” It repeated in his head, now that he was back in his town he remembered the color of her hair, not her eyes. What were the color of her eyes again? She was beautiful though, oh so beautiful. Her skin, lashes, lips, to all over.

Young Sae

Sae was young, talented, and handsome, and alone. He played with the soccer ball alone, staring at it as it seemed for an eternity. Nothing mattered but soccer. He was to be the number one, and that was all that matter.

Well, maybe a girl..who just went on the swings. She was always staring, Sae knew she was staring. With a soft motion he looks up at her to see her stare to be completely directed somewhere else the moment they make eye contact.

“Hmm..”

—

“Stupid..machine.” Sae lifts his feet up to kick it only to be stopped by the words, “that won’t work”

Sae looks up to see who it is. It was the girl who was on the swings. Who keeps staring. He watched as she easily and successfully obtained her drink. This machine was a stupid little pile of butt. How come it didn’t work for me? I'm the one whose been active…

“Did you even punch in the right labels”

Why wouldn’t I?

“Of course I did, the machine is broken.”

“Didn’t seem like it”

The nerve of her attitude. All she does is stalk me with her predatory eyes

A moment of awkward cold silence fills the atmosphere as you two simply look at each other.

“It's broken” Sae explains

“This drink is really refreshing; did you know it came from this venting machine?”

Even more annoying

“It's broken.” He repeats once more but sterner and firmer, annoying. But he took this second to admire her eyes, the color of her hair, each mole, birthmark, and facial hair on her..beautiful he wanted to mumble out

You slightly giggle, “Which one did you want?”

“The taro drink..”

With ease, you punch in the labels for the taro drink, waiting for its arrival. You hand it to his delicate hands,

“Thanks..” he said nonchalantly. He turned on his heel to walk away. With a somewhat far distance, he looks back to see you. The girl in the town who keeps staring.

—

It was the only interaction between you and Sae, besides the staring from afar. You both acknowledged each other for being in the same town, seeing each other when going out with mama, the park, or the beach. But you both shy away, never being brave enough to talk. Sae regrets not asking your name. His only regret outside of soccer. What was her name again?

—

note:

.

.

.

what if i told you this was my first fanfic

[poppitron360]

More quotes from this RANDOM INCORRECT QUOTES GENERATOR that I found- THIS TIME VALGRACE:

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Leo: What do you want to be for Halloween?

Jason: Yours.

Leo:

Leo: …yeah, that would be pretty scary.

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Jason: Stop doing that.

Leo: Stop doing what?

Jason: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

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Leo: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out!

Jason: In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way?

Leo: I don't know, surprise me!

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Leo: Pros and cons of dating me.

Leo: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Leo: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

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Jason, trying to flirt: So, you come around here often?

Leo, confused: I mean, this is my house, so yeah.

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Leo: How do I tell Jason that I want him to yell at me like he’s Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

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Leo: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Jason: Okay.

Leo: And make out during the scary parts.

Jason: Th-

Jason: The scary parts.

Jason: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

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Jason (about Leo): I would never say that my husband is a bitch and I don’t like him. That’s not true… My husband is a bitch and I like him so much!

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Leo: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Jason: AS ENEMIES?!

Leo:

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Leo: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing.

Jason: Are you a software update? because not right now.

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Jason *Holding up a pack of pens*: Look at how cute these pens are!

Leo: Jason that’s gay.

Jason:

Jason: Leo, we’ve been dating for-

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Jason: This date is boring!

Leo: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Jason: Then why did you invite me?

Leo: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Leo I'll do whatever I want!

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Jason: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.

Leo: That's great, Jason. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 fucking years.

(Basically the plot of my Married Valgrace AU that I’ve been writing)

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Jason: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

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Leo: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?

Jason: Aww-

Leo: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

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Leo: Fight me!

Jason: *gets on one knee and pulls out a ring*

Jason: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

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Jason: Two bros!

Leo: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Jason and Leo, in unison: Zero feet apart 'cause we're GAY AS FUCK!

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Jason: When I was young, I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it.

Leo: You're kind of proud of it. You work it into a lot of conversations.

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Jason: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?

Leo: What? Like J F K W S Q X-

Jason: No, like, U R A Q T.

Leo: Awwww!

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Jason: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Leo: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Jason: But you’re always acting stupid?

Leo: ...

Leo: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

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Jason: Okay, but if your not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend?

Leo: Dude- Its satire!

Jason: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

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Jason: I want to kiss you.

Leo, not paying attention: What?

Jason: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

@euryvices I was literally in the middle of writing this when you posted your hcs and I had to tag you.

[get-infectious]

"Sorry about your father."

*goblin House noises*

Wilson and Chase trying to comfort the lil man 😔👌 (Young!House AU)

[poppy-metal]

going insane over toxic ballet au jordan!!! bc obviously the tension between u two is only going to build through rehearsals and the heat that pools in your belly when they touch you will only get harder to bear :( and they're still mean to you n you don't know how to process the fact that the way they talk to you turns you on--your dedication to dance hadn't given you much time to have physical relationships w anyone and you don't have enough experience to know wherher or not wanting them the way you do is okay :( but the fact that they haven't reported you to thw academy for getting all hot n bothered every time you dance gives you the tiniest bit of hope that they like you too.

and they do. fuck their hand every night thinking about you--the way you don't realize how filthy you look, panting from exertion and adrenaline and desire, pupils blown out when u look up at them. but fuck them, they've worked too hard to get this role and they won't throw it away just because their partner is irritating and young and naive and would look fucking unreal falling apart on their cock--pushes fantasies of fucking you dumb out of their head until they're alone w their thoughts in the shower. tries to pretend they don't want to ruin you--they know you aren't the perfect little prodigy everyone thinks you are. know that you want them. but they have too much at stake to consider doing something about it--not during performance season.

until, of course, performance season is ending--running the show for the last time in front of an audience and when you're holding the finishing pose, their strong arms holding your bodies together, they dip their head to mumble "good job." into your ear, low and out of breath and it's nothing sexual but you're flushing red. them feeling your hips twitch against their thigh, pressed so close they can feel you clench around nothing and hear you gasp, even over roaring applause, and fuck, they can't take it anymore.

getting through bows and critiques on autopilot, walking back towards the changing rooms in silence after most everyone else had left. them turning to face you when you reach their room and you gesture in the direction of your own, mumbling out an "thank you for... not dropping me, i guess. gnna go change. yeah." and you're flushed and squirming, hair that had escaped your bun framing your face, looking up at them with your doe eyes and they snap. grunt out a "for fuck's sake," and pull you into their room, closing the door behind you and you're being shoved up against it n they're kissing you hard, grabbing your hands to pin them against the wall. groaning into your mouth, running their hand down your body until they're running their finger along your slit through your tights. grunting "dripping all over my fucking thigh on stage. fucking pathetic." and you squeeze your eyes shut, head lolling against the door--whining, mouth falling open just from the pad of their finger tapping your clit through rough fabric. your now free hand coming up to cover your mouth, biting down when jordan starts circling your clit torturously slow. it doing little to muffle your desperate little noises.

yelping out a startled "jordan!!" when they lift you up by the backs of your thighs, dropping you on the couch in the corner. settling onto their knees next to you, grabbing you by the hips to pull you against them. hands slipping over your ass, grabbing at your thighs, teasing ur little hole through your sheer tights--you yelping when they grab them hard and rip them, baring your pussy to the cold room. flipping you over like you weigh nothing and bringing a hand down on your ass and the way you keen, high and needy, and roll your hips against nothing will star in their wet dreams for the rest of their life. running their fingers through your slit while you whimper, cheek smushed against the couch when you turn to look at them, letting out a broken, debauched moan when they spear you open on their fingers. "been waiting for this, yeah? filthy fucking girl. never felt like this, have you?" and you're nodding and grinding against their fingers and AAASIGJNF idfk my brain is mush

THIS IS SO SICK AND TWISTEEEEEEEEED

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER ONE: SIGHT Word Count: 2,700 words Warnings: None

The week before school starts, it is unusually cold and gray, the wood chips on the playground are damp, and your shoelace is untied.

It’s been like that for a while now – dangling loose and free on both sides of your right shoe, twin tails flying up and down as you swing back and forth. It’s okay. It’s not like you need tied laces while you’re on the swings, anyhow.

Up. Down. Higher and higher and higher. Your auntie is arguing on the phone right now, standing behind the park bench with her back towards you. You swing forward, up and up until your heels perch on top of her head.

It’s a funny sight. You grin.

“Oi.”

You want to see if you can reach the top of the big tree across the park.

“Oi, you on the swing. We’re talkin’ to ya.”

Still swinging back and forth, you look to the side. Then you blink and wonder if your eyes are broken.

Two boys with the same face stare at you with sleepy eyes and flat mouths.

It’s so odd that you let your feet drag across the ground beneath you, staring back as you slow to a stop.

“Hi,” you say.

“It’s our turn on the swings,” says the boy on the right.

A slight frown twists your lips. You glance towards the empty swing on your other side.

“Can’t ya take turns on that one?”

“No,” says the boy on the left. “We’re racin’ to see who can go the highest.”

“I’m not done yet, though,” you say stubbornly.

“So?” says the boy on the right, his eyelids falling further in annoyance. “We ain’t got all day. Scram.”

His double nods seriously.

You look over at Auntie, who’s still on the phone.

Swallowing, you tighten your grip on the swing chains. They had been cold at first, but you’ve been holding them for so long that they’ve warmed up against your palms.

“No.”

The way they look at you makes a shiver go up your spine.

They stare for what feels like hours, chilly and silent, until the one on the right shrugs.

“Suit yerself.”

Then he reaches out, yanks the knit cap off your head, and takes off simultaneously with the other boy.

You gasp and scramble to get off the swing. “Hey! Give it back! Auntie, they took my hat!”

“Who –?” She sputters as you zip past her, exclaiming your name. “Young lady, what is –!”

They’re fast. And they run in tandem, most of the time, one pulling forward only for the other to catch up, leaving you further and further behind. Your cap flies back and forth between them as they pass it like a floppy, maroon-colored ball.

They glance back at you and you’re close enough to see them grin.

“Give it back!” you shriek.

“Why don’t ya make us, slowpoke?” one of them calls out.

It’s at that very moment that your shoe snags on its untied lace.

Your breath catches. You soar through the air and land flat on your face.

Twin laughter crackles through the dreary air.

When you glance up, you see them standing just a few meters away, a snickering pair of entertained little foxes.

Your cheeks burn. You don’t think you’ve ever been so mad and embarrassed in your entire life. And with the two of them, it seems to double until your eyes sting and steam whistles out of your ears.

Teeth clenched hard enough to break through steel, you sit up and wrench your untied shoe off. You leap to your feet and charge towards them as fast as you can.

“Give it back!”

They jump, eyes widening, and sprint off once more.

With one missing shoe and a sock that’s getting wetter by the second, you really don’t stand a chance. But whether it’s dumb luck or the rage rushing through your bloodstream, miraculously, lungs burning and muscles screaming, the gap between you and them begins to shrink.

The smirks on their faces seem to get smaller and smaller as you get closer, changing into grimaces of irritation. They run even faster. So do you.

“Give it back!” You’re repeating it like a mantra now, getting nearer and nearer with each breathless repetition. “Give it back give it back give it BACK –”

One of them falls a step behind the other. You seize the opportunity with your teeth and bite down.

The boy topples forward and skids across the wet grass as you tackle him, fists twisted up in the back of his thick grey sweater.

“Ow!”

It isn’t long before you’re straddling his back to keep him down, one arm on the back of his head to press his face into the ground while the other reaches out to grab the hat in his outstretched hand.

“Get offa me!” he grunts, though you can barely understand him and care even less.

“No!”

As you struggle to purchase a hold on your belonging, the other boy jogs back up to where his comrade had fallen. You stiffen and look up at him warily.

But instead of lifting a finger to help, you’re surprised when he breaks into laughter.

“Bahahaha! She totally smoked ya, Osamu!”

“Shut up, Atsumu!”

‘Atsumu’ bends down to snatch up your hat. You rush to stand up, ready for another round of chasing, but you’re surprised yet again when he simply tosses the hat between his hands and fixes you with eyes that seem less dull than before.

“Bet ya can’t catch us again,” he tells you while ‘Osamu’ gets to his feet.

“Yeah, I can,” you snarl, still panting for breath, but you rip your hat out of his hands just in case.

“Hey –”

“Forget it, Atsumu. My sweater,” Osamu grumbles. “Ma’s gonna kill me.”

You turn towards him, a tart word or two on your tongue about how he rightfully deserves a good thrashing – his brother, too. But your eyes catch on his sweater, and then on his hands that are hopelessly scrubbing at the dirt and grass stains, and what you see wrapped around his pinkie effectively steals the retort from your mouth.

“Ya got a red string,” you say, pointing at it.

Osamu raises an eyebrow at you, then lifts his hand to look. He wiggles his pinkie. His brow furrows and his lips pinch. He looks back at you, and the furrow in his brow deepens.

“Ya got one too,” he says, and now it’s his turn to point.

You look at your left pinkie. Indeed, wrapped around it is a red string, and when you trace its tail, you find that your string and Osamu’s are one and the same.

A lump forms in your throat.

Auntie finally catches up to the three of you.

“You little devils, running around like that! And where’s your shoe, young lady? I ought to …” Her gaze catches onto the red around your and Osamu’s pinkies, and her jaw slackens. Your lower lip trembles as she meets your eyes. “Oh. Oh, dear.”

—

When Atsumu puts it all together, he gets so mad at you that he cries.

He lifts up his sweater in a fit and shows you the mark on the side of his belly, the ink-black shadow of a fox’s head. Osamu shows you the same mark on the opposite side. When your parents all meet at the Miya residence that night, they try to sort it all out.

Soulmates, as you understand it at eight years old, are very special best friends. Most are the kind to get married and have kids, like your parents and the twins’ parents. A few are siblings, like Atsumu and Osamu. And some don’t share blood or get married and simply know each other better than anybody else in the world.

And as you sit in the living room sandwiched between your mom and dad, sweat dampening the back of your neck as the brothers stare half-lidded like they did at the park, you know what it means.

It means you are an intruder.

—

“Ma, I don’t wanna go.”

“You’re just nervous, honey,” she says, fixing the collar of your blouse. “Think about it. You already know two people there, don’t ya? And one of them’s yer soulmate.”

You look at yourself in the mirror. A pout forms on your lips. “But they’re mean to me.”

“They’ll come around if you do.” Wrinkling your nose, you keep your doubts to yourself as your mom stands up. “Time to go. You don’t want to be late.”

As she ushers you away, you take one last glance at your reflection.

For a split second, you swear you see Osamu instead. Then you blink and it’s just you again.

You didn’t know soulmates could do that.

Your mom watches from the house as you leave the front door and dutifully make your way to the corner of the street, where several kids are already waiting. The green backpacks make them look like turtles. You must look like a turtle too.

Just as you come up to the group, wondering if you should introduce yourself, one of the boys stands in front of you and traps you with a careful look. He says nothing. Just looks at you expectantly.

Awkwardly, you bow. “Good morning,” you say, and he frowns.

Oh, boy. Is there a certain way you’re supposed to say good morning here?

“I told ya, Kato-chan,” pipes up an older girl behind him, hands on her hips. “It’s not her.”

“Not who?” you ask.

The girl appraises you. Her glasses are big and round and take up most of her face, and the lenses gleam in the morning light. “Kato-chan’s soulmate,” she replies, speaking like someone well beyond her years. “He only wants one because his big brother met his yesterday.”

You grimace. Kato’s ears turn red. “No!” he protests.

“They’re supposed to tell him his zodiac sign,” the girl says. “It’s written on the bottom of his foot.” You nod, reaching up to hold the straps of your backpack, and her eyes flick down. They widen. “Oh. Have ya met yer soulmate yet?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you drop your hands. You wish she hadn’t asked. “Um … well –”

Two blurs shove past you. You can feel the entirety of their hands, each sturdy finger and thumb pushing back on each of your shoulders until you stumble.

“I win!”

“No, I win!”

“I touched the pole first, ya scrub!”

“With yer hands! I banged my shoe on it before that.”

“That doesn’t count –”

You join the others in crowding around the Miya twins, who are clinging to one of the poles sticking up from the sidewalk. They’re wearing matching jackets and matching pants and matching shoes, seeming to morph into a single organism as they quarrel and butt heads.

“Let go!”

“You let go first!”

Their shoes scuffle against the concrete. Both boys grab the other’s hair with one hand, and every bone in your body feels like it’s turned to lead when a thread catches blood-red underneath the sun.

Someone gasps. “Hey, do ya see that?”

You close your eyes.

A hand closes around your arm.

“Oh,” Glasses Girl says. Her voice rises loud enough to be heard by everyone. “Wow, Miya-kun, I didn’t know ya had two soulmates.”

And just like that, they stop.

Dread pools coldly in your stomach as she turns to you. The other kids swivel their heads to stare in what feels like slow-motion, but the brunt of the weight is from the twins, who let go of the pole to pin you down with their eyes.

Your throat dries. You wish you could melt into a puddle.

“Which one is it?” Glasses Girl asks you. “Atsumu-kun or Osamu-kun?”

You lick your lips. “I –”

“Neither of us,” says Atsumu. His tone is flat. “It was a mistake.”

You close your mouth.

“Really?” Kato asks, sounding worried. “There can be mistakes?”

“Well, duh. Me and Osamu are already soulmates. She’s just some scrub.”

Osamu says nothing.

“Oh.”

You say nothing, either.

The group breaks out into murmurs. Glasses Girl looks down at you. You meet her pitying gaze and then look away, uncomfortable, and shrug.

You don’t know why, but your chest starts to hurt. Just a little bit.

—

A few weeks go by. You make a few friends (one friend – Glasses Girl, whose real name is Kokomi). The Miya twins are still rude. The homework is hard.

Then your auntie heads back home to Miyagi to take care of a family emergency, and your parents go on their monthly weekend business trip. And you …

Well, worse things could’ve happened. Getting struck by lightning, for one.

“How come yer parents left ya all by yerself? They don’t like ya or somethin’?”

“No,” you snap at Atsumu. You’ve tucked yourself away in the corner of the guestroom, but even then, it provides no escape from the twins. Which makes sense, since this is their house. “They’re working.”

“What do they do?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He looks down at you, eyebrows low above his eyes. “Just wonderin’ why they saddled us with ya.”

“You know why,” you mumble. Looking down at your scratch art book, you scrape your stylus along the black page to reveal a glittery purple line. Your butterfly looks more like a moth.

Because you’re new to the area, and you don’t know anybody. Because your auntie had to leave early, and good nannies cost money and are hard to find. Because your parents met Osamu and Atsumu’s parents once.

Because …

“Atsumu, ya gotta wipe the counters.”

“I already did.”

“Well, ya did a cruddy job of it and Ma wants ya to do it again.”

Atsumu groans loudly, pushing off the wall and heading out of the room. “Geez …”

You hear the muffled sound of Miya-san telling him off in the kitchen, followed by the drawling complaints of Atsumu. You make eye contact with Osamu. He holds it, tucking his hands into his pockets. The red string snakes out of it and runs down the length of his sweatpants.

“Yer a lot nicer at school,” he finally comments, and you bristle.

“Because the people at school are nicer,” you retort.

“Did ya like supper?”

The abrupt change in subject pinches your eyebrows together.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t eat much,” he says, and though he doesn’t sound all too concerned, he continues to stare at you without blinking. “Do ya not like shogayaki?”

“I …” Perplexed, you let your legs slide out of their tucked-up position. “It’s fine.”

“What’s yer favorite food?”

“Onigiri,” you say without hesitation. His head tilts, and his eyes open just a millimeter wider. You do hesitate before asking, “What’s yer favorite food?”

“I dunno. Food,” he says automatically. You surprise yourself with the brief snort that escapes your nose. “What’s so funny, ya scrub?”

“Yer favorite food can’t be food.”

“Says who?” Osamu responds.

“I dunno. But that’s not how it works.”

“All of them are good.”

You guess you can’t argue with that.

The boy shifts, propping one shoulder up against the door frame. He looks down and to the side, his mouth twisting in the same direction, and you wait for whatever he’s about to say before he takes in a breath.

“We’re makin’ onigiri for lunch tomorrow.”

He lingers for a moment longer, glancing back at you, and you realize that this is Osamu’s way of extending an olive branch.

Warmth trickles up your neck and into your cheeks.

“Okay,” you say quietly.

He nods, pushing away from the door frame in a manner eerily similar to Atsumu before heading off towards their room. You listen to his footsteps shuffling sleepily down the hallway and curl up again, hugging your sketchbook to your chest.

Maybe this won’t be so bad, you think. Maybe Osamu will come around, just like your mom said, and everything will be fine, eventually.

Another pair of footsteps shuffle up to your room.

“Oi, freeloader. Answer my question.”

Everything will be fine, as long as Atsumu comes around too. But that, as you have already come to learn, will be a long, long time coming.

—

next

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 54

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

all i want for christmas by tusslee

“Listen,” Lance squeezes Keith’s fingers in his hands, “I’m as bad at this as you probably are and this is going to be really cheesy, but that’s the way I was raised and I know I act like an idiot around pretty girls, but I’m an even bigger idiot around you. Go ahead and try to guess why that is. No, actually don't do that."

this one is gonna be an xmas special!! even though im writing this before halloween lol. anyways. this was so cute!! lance being all stressed about what he should get keith bc he's all in love w him any everything. so real.

2. You're Here (Where You Should Be) by @blue-wanderer

"And if you’re worried about the cameras just take care of them.” “Take care—! Take care of them? With what, Keith?” “I don’t know?” Keith asks, busily testing his foothold in the gate and generally ignoring the rising storm cloud of ire behind him. “With a gun?” “A gun? This isn’t some sort of black ops storming an enemy base thing! This is a Christmas tree thing!” “I don’t see a difference? You’re the sharpshooter. Shoot out the cameras.” “Let me just pull a gun out of my ass, Keith!” “OK, problem solved,” Keith agrees, taking another step up the gate. “Nothing is solved you dumb country space redneck!”

Or Keith and Lance may be disasters at decorating, but Christmas still manages to work its magic on them.

i bookmarked this like a year ago and let me tell you all i needed to hear was dumb country space redneck and i was hooked 😭😭 and it lived up to the name fr. hate the canon ending? want lance to not be a farmer while still acknowledging his struggles with homesickness? want some whipped keith and meddlesome kosmo? want some cheesy xmas feels? click ahead!

3. make my wish come true by angelbolt

“A world where one has to fight for custody of one’s boyfriend is a godless one,” Lance muttered, slumping so he was leaning against Hunk. Shiro exchanged some final words with Kolivan before the screen blipped out. Ah yes, the ideal Christmas Eve: long boring talks and war meetings. Wonderful. ❆❅❆ keith comes home for christmas.

fun game idea: take a shot every time you see a klance xmas fic with a mariah carey lyric. lol. ANYWAYS yall know me and established relationship + early season dynamics!! i am obsessed!! and this fic delivers!! grumpy lance pov who just wants the rest of the world to fuck off for a couple days so he can have his bf around. he's such a voice of the people

4. i'll be home for christmas by @thespacenico

A severe bout of winter weather threatens to stop Shiro from making it home for his first Christmas with Keith. Shiro is ready to do whatever it takes to keep his promise.

okay this one is from darcy's i've got you brother, which i am obsessed with and have cried over several times, and which just recently updated! this fic is so cute and a adashi with young keith always fucking gets to me, man. they're just so. shiro being so desperately determined to keep his promise to young keith who has had so many promises broken that he doesnt even expect shiro to try. but is happy that he does. sobbing.

5. the greatest gift of all by dumpsterdiva

Keith’s mouth hung open for a few seconds before he stammered, “D-do you really mean that?” Lance looked a bit sheepish as he said, “I… It’s crazy, right? I mean, it’s way too soon. You know I was kidding.” Keith straightened up. “Well, I’m not. Marry me.” “What?!” “You heard me, you coward. Marry me.” “That’s the worst proposal ever!” “Worse than you threatening me with marriage so I would stop talking about how amazing you are?”

YOU GUYS KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT PROPOSAL FICS. i feel ksjbskdbqjdbqwlwd about them. okay. and throw in a christmas setting??? and banter?? and a MODERN AU?? i am doing my best, people. this fic had me shoving a pillow into my face and screaming.

that’s it for today!! happy holidays! merry christmas!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[munsonsreputation]

All Of The Girls You've Loved Before

steve harrington x fem!reader (modern day au!!! they dance to taylor at the end!!!!)

word count: [3.1K] I did my best to proof read

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, cursing, talks about previous relationships, basically a bunch of fucking sappy fluff!!!

summary: steve knows he was never the best boyfriend, but things start to change when you and him finally get together thanks to fate. but what happens when steve's past insecurities come out? You do what you do best and let him know that his past made him the the person you've fallen for.

Steve Harrington was a dream come true.

Your dream come true to be exact.

Everyone in Hawkins knew Steven Harrington and all the girls fawned over him, and all the boys despised him. A sort of blessing and curse that was cast upon him ever since he knew what romantic feelings were, even if it was not what it seemed.

He wasn’t going to play dumb and act as if his rap sheet was holy, because it was far from that. His sheet of paper was filled with girls’ names, spanning from years of dating and meaningless flings. Despite the crowded paper, the feeling of it was empty. Those relationships and flings were shallow and superficial, based on nothing more than physical attraction and a desire for popularity.

But his other halves weren’t solely to blame.

Steve knew he wasn’t the best partner out there. There had been many arguments, broken promises, and hurtful words exchanged in his past relationships. He knew that he had made mistakes in the past, but he had never intended to hurt anyone. He had just been young and foolish, trying to figure out who he was and what he wanted in life.

He had always tried to be a good partner, but it seemed like no matter what he did, he always fell short. He couldn’t read their emotions. Didn’t say the right things. Was too pushy or sometimes not pushy enough. Spoke too little about his emotions or not enough. It was a losing battle with his past relationships.

In all honestly, for a long time, Steve Harrington thought he was incapable of ever finding someone to truly settle down with. It was hard to imagine that anyone could see past his past mistakes and flaws and accept him for who he was.

All that Steve had ever known was late night arguments over the phone and pity apologies in person so that he and his partners wouldn’t have to go to bed angry with one another—yet he awoke next to them, still feeling so alone.

Maybe he was just incapable of being a good boyfriend and maybe he was never really worthy of love.

Not until you swept right in.

“Stevie!” you blurted, poking his chin from where your head was resting in his lap.

He braved through his haze of thoughts as your voice echoed in his ears. The movie playing on the TV in front of you two had been long forgotten as he slipped into his pondering and now you who had noticed his glazed over eyes not reacting to anything on the screen.

You poked again, fingers probing into his slight stubble, before he glanced down at you and smiled widely. His big hands, coming down to brush the stray hairs away from your face and forehead, tucking them behind your ears as he stared at you fondly.

You stared right back into his eyes, forgetting why you had caught his attention the moment you both slipped into what was a cloudy lavender-like-haze that you wanted to forever stay in without a care for the outside world.

Somewhere along the lines, your name had found its way onto a fresh set of Steve’s pages in his life. One where your name was the only one written on the page with a big heart around it.

How he was able to get so lucky? He would never know. Weirdly enough, you and Steve weren’t strangers at all. You two were fully aware of each other’s existence but never did he ever think he’d be able to snag a girl like you.

The girl who didn’t care about sneaking into town with the “heartbreak prince” on your arm.

Someone who could fill his life with so much complexity yet simplicity all at once.

The one he would enjoy killing time with doing whatever it was, just if he got to make sure he could hold your hand at any given moment

You’d never forget signing all the girls’ yearbooks when the semester was finally over. An assortment of little notes and doodles littering the back pages of the book. And you’d never fail to see his name written in blue ink in all of them. Everyone treating him like Hawkins’ very own heart-throb, yearning for his little signature just so they could draw teeny tiny red hearts around it and brag to their sisters, mothers, and any other person who was dying to get a slice of Steve Harrington.

You and Steve had spent four years at the same high school together.

Sharing the same hallways.

Sharing mutual acquaintances.

Sharing the same teachers.

The same stage at graduation.

The same small town.

For the longest time, you both were like parallel lines, moving with time and living separate lives, just merely aware of each other’s existence was all. But somehow, a few weeks after graduation, you two ended sharing one more thing with each other before the fuse lit.

A room full of half-drunk graduates drinking beer out of plastic cups and screw top rosé.

For whatever reason you both decided to want to drink that cheapass wine, it set off a chain reaction once your hands brushed against each others and it was like the stars finally aligning and fate took its course.

A conversation you two shared, laughing about how awful it must have tasted so you could have it, but no, you wanted him to have it. Which then led to him grabbing the entire bottle and two plastic cups, asking you to follow him up on the roof where you two sat and drank what now seemed like the priceless wine that started it all.

He was fucking lucky, and he was fully aware of that.

You knew about the girls he’d been seen with before, hearing the rumors whispered in the hallways as he and whoever the hell he was dating at the time passed by and the jealous ones saying she was the lucky one.

It was a cycle.

The girls’ he was seeing being the lucky one’s ones until they weren’t anymore.

Until they’d be in the bathroom surrounded by their girlfriends and consoled after Steve didn’t say “I love you” back.

Or until they realized that Steve wasn’t just going to magically drop the kids he babysat for years for a girl he’d only been talking to for weeks.

And especially until they realized that Steve Harrington wasn’t only looks, but a guy who needed to feel loved—truly loved.

“Is this a staring contest or are we still gawking at each other like lovey dovey idiots?”

Your voice broke the barrier of thoughts again as you giggled. Your eyes squinting closed with each laugh you let out as your chest bubbling—a sight Steve would never get tired of admiring.

“You’re a fucking dream, you know that?” Steve smirked, taking your cheeks in his hands and crouching down to give you a kiss.

You hummed against his partly chapped lips, opening your eyes when he pulled away and retreated to back back against the plush cushions of the couch. Yet his fingers twirled at the ends of your hair, making spirals and letting them fall loosely.

“What kind of dream? Like a nightmare or like a wet one?” Your eyebrows wiggled flirtatiously as he cackled, shaking his head as you giggled some more and finally sat up.

Your head instantly found a home on his shoulder as you threw your legs across his lap. His arms encasing you in the warmth and scent of him. Everything that Steve was.

“A really, really good one, baby. One that I cannot even believe I was able to think up.”

Your bottom lip jutted out affectionately, nudging his cheek with your chin as he looked down at you and never let up on his smile, “You’re too sweet, Stevie.”

Steve thinks you’re the sweetest girl in the fucking universe.

You gave him hope, a whole pocket of it, that maybe just maybe he was capable of love with the right person.

You.

Everything was different with you. Steve had finally found someone who he cared about deeply, someone who he wanted to be a better person for. He knew that he had made mistakes in the past, but he was determined to make things right for you. He wanted to show you how much he cared, and how much he was willing to change for the better.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He proposed, watching the way you thought for a second, so many different reasons flowing through your head.

You shrugged, playing with the fabric of his t-shirt and looking down shyly as you spoke, “I don’t know…all I know is that you swept me off my feet and you haven’t let me down since.”

“Aren’t you such a romantic?” He teased, poking your side making your squeal before playfully smacking his chest with a pout.

“Seriously,” He added, “Sometimes I pinch myself because I can’t believe you’re actually here with me.”

With a look of vulnerability in his eyes, you were slightly taken aback. Sure you and Steve would always brag about how lucky you both were to have each other, but you just knew that this was coming from a different place…a different part of Steve, one where you could instantly catch the insecurity and doubt in his voice.

"What do you mean?" you urged gently, reaching out to take his hand, and look up to meet his eyes, yet now he looked down.

Steve hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I mean…I don’t know why you would ever want to be with me. I’ve messed up so many times in the past, and I’m still trying to figuring things out.”

He finally looked up at you, brows furrowed as he tried to elaborate, “I—I just feel like I’m always doing something wrong, or that I’m not enough for you. And…I just don’t want to fuck up what we have because of how I treated other girls in the past.”

To be quite honest, you didn’t care about the stories that had been circulating about Steve’s past relationships, because you knew a different version of Steve now. You could tell that he genuinely cared about you, and that he was willing to put in the effort to make things work between you two.

You saw beyond his popularity and charm, and recognized the kind, caring person that he was underneath it all. Right off the bat, Steve was honest with you. He told you about how exhausted he was with meaningless relationships. That he wanted to move past that stage in his life and actually have a connection with someone, you.

He was everything that you ever wanted and you wanted him to see himself the way that you saw him—as a kind, caring person who was worthy of love and affection.

“You do deserve me, Steve,” you said firmly, looking him directly in the eye. “I’m with you because I see the person that you are and not the person you think you’re defined by because of the past.”

As you sat on the couch with Steve, staring into his own unsure eyes, you remember how, when you were younger, you used to think that love was supposed to be crazy and wild. You believed that the more dramatic and intense the relationship, the more you were in love. You thought that fights were an indication of passion and that intense emotions were proof of how much you cared for each other.

But you were so wrong, and you wished you realized that back then, but you knew better now and now you were here with better…Steve.

Your ex-boyfriends used to make you cry and left you hiding away in bathrooms not knowing how to deal with the constant conflict. They had made you feel small and insignificant, and you had thought at the time that it was a normal part of being in a relationship.

You remember how the fights would go on and on without any resolution. You both would talk in circles, never truly hearing each other out, and then one of you would storm out without a word, leaving the issue unresolved. It was exhausting, and you always yearned for something more.

And then you had the privilege and honor of meeting Steve Harrington. The guy who changed the playing field and showed you, for the first time, what love felt like. It wasn’t crazy or wild, but steady and supportive.

You remembered those horrible feelings of the past and you needed Steve to know that the past worries would be defeated soon.

“Remember Ryan?”

His face turned up in confusion and disugst, “Ryan? Your ex-boyfriend? Yeah—wait, why’re we talking about Ryan?”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head as you urged him to listen.

“Ryan was a dick. He made me cry all the time and…I used to think that it was normal. That it was ok.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “He made me feel so unlovable, Steve. Like I would never measure up to be a good girlfriend. Ever.”

Steve squeezed your hand, sensing the importance of your story, “I never thought that I was ever going to be loved because of how he made me feel…but I was so wrong, because I’m sitting here with you.”

Steve looked at you for a long moment, and you could see the doubt slowly melting away from his eyes. “Screw Ryan” he mumbled, making you throw your head back and laugh, nodding as he smiled lightly.

“Yeah, screw him.” You agreed, “And you wanna know something else?”

He hummed, grazing his thumbs across your knuckles as he brought them closer to his lips and laid a kiss to your delicate skin, “What, baby?”

“I’m so thankful for all of the girls you loved before, because they all led you to me.”

You weren’t going to lie, even though you accepted that Steve had quite the track record, it still was intimidating to know he’d been with so many girls—worried that you might just be a name written in his blank space. It might have made you insecure or doubtful in the beginning, but Steve had done more than prove that not only was he a changed man, but that all of those experiences led him right to you.

That all this time, those storms and breakdowns would somehow lead you both together. Wrapping up all of your shared hurt and mistakes in barbed wire in order to understand and sympathize with your respective pasts. That all this time, those parallel lines were ribbons of strings tying you both together.

Steve looks at you, his eyes full of surprise and admiration. “Really?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You smile at him, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours as you nodded, “Every single girl you’ve ever loved made you the man that you are now,” you continue. “And I’m in love with you more than any other girl ever was. I see all of the amazing qualities that you have, and I know that they came from the struggles you faced in the past.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle with joy as he takes your face in his hands. Every ounce of doubt he had within himself dissipating with every moment and breath he got to spend here with you. That he would spend forever on this couch delving into both of your feelings if it meant getting the chance to fall even more deeply and madly in love with you than he already was.

Never in a million years did he ever think that he’d be sitting here with you. He knew that his younger self would be racing up and down the hallways of his childhood home and celebrating at the top of his lungs if he knew that he’d be getting to spend every passing second with the girl of his dreams and someone who accepted him for him.

His mother, despite their distant relationship, always told him to never let the right girl slip out of his life because of the wrong decisions. That he would know when he was in love and that when he knew, he best treat her with kindness and stay loyal to her for eternity. That love could last a lifetime if you treat it right.

“You know, I’ve never really loved any other girl except you?” He’s looking back and forth between your eyes, making sure you understand, “Sure, I thought I did at the time, but looking back now, it was nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

Teenage love was nothing compared to what you and Steve had. There was something enchanting and magical that you two had that made it so everything else in the past was lost in the past. That there was no harm in saying goodbye to people who damaged or made you feel less than, because that only led you one step closer to what you always wanted and who you always deserved.

Steve’s words hit you hard, and you can feel your heart swelling with love and gratitude. You lean in and plant a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

“I love you so much, baby,” you whisper, your forehead pressed against his.

“I love you too, more than anything,” he replies, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You can feel the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart against your chest, and it’s like nothing else in the world matters. You know that you’ve found your forever person that you’re going to spend forever with.

“Wanna dance?” you say, breaking the silence.

Steve looks at you with affection, and you can see a soft smile spreading across his face before he gets up, offering you his hand. “Let’s dance, baby.”

“Hey Google, play “Lover” by Taylor Swift.” You announced, grinning back at him as the familiar tune fills the living room of the house that you and Steve had made yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you close, swaying gently to the music. As you dance, you feel the love and happiness that you have for each other. The two of you stayed there, lost in each other’s embrace, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss, feeling grateful for the chance to be with someone who makes him feel so loved and understood. You both know that love isn’t always easy, but with each other, it feels like it’s worth all the effort.

You know that this moment, and this love, is exactly how forever should feel.

A/N: all credits to taylor swift for writing and releasing this beautiful song!!!! this song is so fucking steve coded that I literally had to run and make this and funny enough finished it in one sitting!!! let me know what you think and please interact by reblogging, commenting, adding tags, and liking!!! it's greatly appreciated!! 🧸💘💫

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