#actually in tears shaking on the ground

[mintypsii]

"that's a terrible idea" he says IN A SOFT VOICE while longingly staring into his eyes 🤨🏳️‍🌈ihate u koby (affectionate)

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[mrsbarnesblog]

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face. 

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself. 

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face. 

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.” 

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help. 

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head. 

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit. 

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe. 

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you. 

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?” 

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.” 

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them. 

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms. 

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back. 

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more. 

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep. 

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.” 

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him. 

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up. 

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy vol. I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

vol II

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you��re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

vol II

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write angst ?

@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)

know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)

decide on the type of angst you are going for!

major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.

and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.

are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.

moving on to actually writing it-

Tip 1 - Use sensory details.

her eyes brimmed with tears

his chest heaved

pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt

his scream pierced my heart

her lips quivered

she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)

show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.

Tip 2 - how to actually write it.

If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.

use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.

the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.

what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?

there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.

Tip 3 - crying.

what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?

what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?

make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.

while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.

focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.

have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head

best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);

3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)

Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.

there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.

and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)

Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)

[i-yap]

Jason todd x reader - clingy thoughts

(guys i have no motivation to start writing most days so like whenever I get comments or requests in my inbox I get rlly excited and actually feel like writing)

if jason could, he would melt his skin so it could stick to yours . He is so touch starved but more than that he is just ...starved. like he hasn't ever had anything properly good in his life. and then you're just there and he doesn't think something better could exist

he wants to look at you, he stares a lot. even when he is cuddling you, he's looking at your hands, your hair, whatever he can see in the position

he likes casual intimacy more than fancy intimacy. like linking pinkies when walking, resting your head on his shoulder on the bus, your legs being pressed against each other when you're sitting on a rooftop. something you'd do without thinking but he is constantly thinking about it.

he isn't the lift and spin sort of guy ( like after a mission or something) he is a holds you and falls to the ground from the pain of being separated from you for too long. he is the don't to dare pull away, tears in his eyes, body shaking sort of guy.

he hates being away from you, even across the table is too far. wants to sit next to you or hold your hand if you're sitting across. make sure the table isn't too big. the distance hurts him, its like he has an internal radar that if you cross , his head goes red .

give him any sign that you are just as clingy or even that you don't hate his guts and he will just freeze. he doesn't know how to reciprocate touch, feelings, words, everything but he really really wants to. so just because he stiffens up when you hug him doesn't mean he is gonna let you leave the hug .

his sweetest words come out at like 4am , when you're in the bathtub, sitting on a roof, eating snacks on the floor of your room or lying in bed . you cant be facing him cause he will forget whaT he wanted to say once he sees your face. he is super tired from crime fighting or after s'x or after a nightmare. don't make a big deal out of it cause he wont take it well and will get embarrassed.

he is just so protective, you rlly cant blame him.

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“Agatha can’t control her powers and kills a bunch of people, this explains why Death is in love with her because it means she gets more bodies” No.

No no no.

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and the first time someone blasted her with their magic they died right in front of her and she was only seven years old and terrified and alone until suddenly there was a small little girl across from her who gently took her hand and told her it was okay”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and had a tantrum, purple exploding out of her, but the other witch was too fast and Agatha blinked and they were dead on the ground and she scrambled back against the wall, curling up into a little ball and shaking, shaking, shaking, until someone just as young and soft as her stroked her hair back and told her they knew it was an accident”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and was beaten and bruised by her mother until she couldn’t take it anymore and ran off into the woods and was blasted by someone who thought she was a witch hunter, and she didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Agatha climbing into a tree and scraping her cheek and trembling as she stared at the lifeless witch, something rattling deep inside of her that sounded like a stranger’s voice. And then the stranger appearing through the thick, standing over the dead body and instantly looking up, looking for Agatha. Finding her in the tree and climbing in with her. Smoothing a thumb across her cheek until it didn’t sting anymore”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and any spell she tries goes haywire, the final teacher that swore she could fix her grey and lifeless on the floor as Agatha sat up on the kitchen table and just stared and stared, tears falling, always falling, until that familiar face appeared through the bedroom doorway, watching Agatha, not the woman, and threaded their fingers together. Guided her to cracked, dusty skin and forced her to feel it, hand pressing hers into dead flesh and murmuring ‘exceptional’ under her breath before explaining every single step of reaping a soul. Talking and talking until Agatha wasn’t crying anymore, until she couldn’t remember why she had been upset in the first place”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she also couldn’t control her temper, and suddenly half of a coven was dead before her, barely eighteen years old, and then the girl, also freshly a woman, the closest thing she knew to having a friend, sliding up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder, wiping her tears away. Shushing her pleas of ‘why can’t I control it? Why do I ruin everything I touch?’ with soft murmurs of ‘there’s nothing wrong with you. You didn’t kill them. They simply… bent to your power.’”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she sure as hell tried, until she was tied to a stake and her coven fell at her feet and her mother crumpled before her, hellbent until the moment she died to punish Agatha for things she had never meant to do. Agatha, with her grief and her relief and her freedom, finally, somehow still sobbing over her mother’s death, curled up far away and safe in the woods. Safe until Death came for her, hands cupping her face too tenderly, too delicately, and forced Agatha to meet her eyes. Death, who had somehow become the only one to ever show her mercy and kindness and compassion, leaning her forehead against hers and whispering ‘it’s okay. I am so proud of you.” Death leaning in so, so hesitantly and pressing the smallest kiss to her mouth. Breaths hitching. Eyes meeting. Long, loaded stares and trembling fingers and Death herself smiling at Agatha like she actually meant it. Agatha fisting her cloak and yanking her closer and letting Death suck the air right out of her lungs, and Agatha somehow living anyway”

That’s what I need.

[devil-in-hiding]

On The Run

Pt 3

At some point, Soap and Gaz fall asleep on the couch, sprawled across one another. Ghost is laid back in one of the recliners, struggling to keep his eyes open as Price’s voice lulls him to sleep from the kitchen.

You're not sure how long the two of you have sat here. It took Price an hour to finally open his mouth. He has hardly met your eye since he’s started talking, hands clasped together on top of the table.

The ache you felt in your chest for these men worsened the longer Price spoke. Proud military men, tired of seeing the monsters they hunted get slaps on the wrist for atrocious crimes. Making plea deals with lawyers, getting one way tickets into luxury cells when they should be six feet underground.

You don’t realise Price has stopped talking till Soap snores, causing Dixon to shuffle at your feet, all four dogs scattered around the kitchen floor. You look him over, taking in the man now that all his bravado has been drained, leaving only the raw human underneath. Blue eyes darkened by years on the force and then years behind bars, forced into proximity with the very animals he and his team longed to put down. You’re looking at a man who fought for what was right and when justice wasn’t served in a way he deemed fit, he settled it.

Price is staring down at his hands, and you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself with how vigorously he rubs his hands together. You don’t think, reaching across the table and grasping one of his hands in yours, running your thumb across scarred knuckles. “Don’t do that.” You scold, and his head whips up to stare at you, eyes wide, hopeful but hesitant.

He looks down at your hand holding his, then back at you. “You’re not…?” He trails off, clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, letting your palm slip into his. You’re not sure what word he was going to use, but you shake your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry you all had to…” You don’t finish your sentence, letting it hang in the air between you. You’re shocked to see tears pool at the corner of his eyes but he’s quick to blink them away.

“You’re not horrified by us?” He asks, and you can tell he’s trying to fight his voice from shaking. You clear your throat, but gently squeeze his hand when his grip loosens.

“You have done… horrible things. Inhumane things.” You start, trying to pick your words carefully as you scoot your chair closer to his. He watches you warily, but there is no denying the growing hope in those eyes. “But I couldn’t imagine seeing what you saw everyday. Hearing the things you’ve heard, having to keep that all to yourself. Seeing… monsters you’ve spent years tracking get served the minimum sentence with a cozy cell waiting for them.” His hand starts to shake, and your heart breaks seeing how hard he’s fighting back the tears pooling in his eyes. “We never would have actually hurt you, I swear on my life. We just… Fuck we had been running for fucking hours through those god damn trees and-“ His voice cracks, and you gently run your thumb over the back of his hand. “Why are you being so nice?” He almost spits the word, but his grip on your hand tightens.

Grounding.

“You did as I asked. You told me the truth.” You mirror his words from the barn, and he barks out a wet sounding laugh before covering his face with his free hand. “And you’re happy with that truth?”

“I’m happy you decided you could trust me enough with it.” You admit softly, and he stares into your eyes, and you don’t feel the need to look away this time. “Anyone else would have gone running for the hills.” He whispers, and you can’t help but smile.

“Not many places to run to, and if I’m telling the honest truth, there are worse things than killing human filth.” You shrug, and he lets out a bewildered laugh. “You can’t mean-“

“I do though. There are people in this world that don’t deserve the freedom they have, that have ripped apart the lives of others and continue living like they didn’t single-handedly ruin someone’s entire foundation.” Your words are a little more forceful than you intended, raw. And Price catches it, sitting up a little straighter, tugging your hand closer.

“You have your own monster, don’t you pretty?” He asks seriously, and you swallow, lowering your gaze to your clasped hands.

“I think that’s a story for another night.” You whisper, and you see him nod, before realization hits, and his eyes widen.

“You’re going to let us-“

“You are going to have to show me that I am not making a mistake by letting four wanted men stay in my house.” You interrupt him, but there’s a smile on your face. The next seconds are a blur and you suddenly find this giant of a man at your feet, kneeling in front of you and holding both your hands in his. His shoulders are shaking, head bent but you hear the hitch in his breath.

“Price..” You murmur, a little nervous but you slip your hands free, slowly running your fingers through his hair, and you hear the sob that leaves him. He bunches up the loose fabric of your sweats in his fist, and you can feel his tears starting to soak through.

“You are a good person.” He chokes out, looking up at you and the look on his face has tears of your own threatening to spill. He looks exhausted, like every ounce of his energy has finally been drained, years of enduring visceral human indecency ingrained into every part of his being. And yet he is gazing at you like you are the first glimpse of the sun after week long rainstorms, constant flooding and devastation, the light breaking through the clouds to spread warmth on a new day.

“You’re still a good person too.”

Those words linger in the air.

You lose track of time as you sit there, running your fingers through his hair, this man who you’ve never met, who invited himself into your home, but has bared the darkest corners of his soul to you all in one night. Grimes had made his way over at some point, staring at Price with a concerned tilt of his head. He never did like when you cried, and you can tell he’s desperate to try and comfort this strange man in his home. He lays besides him, paws outstretched, inching forward ever so slowly.

“He doesn’t like that you’re upset.” You mumble, watching the way his eyes snap over to Grimes. “Even though I terribly upset his mama earlier?” He mutters, he and Grimes staring at one another.

“Grimes has always been a big softy. Dixon is the one who’s gonna hold a grudge.” An answering ‘boof’ comes from beside you, Dixon plopping his head back on his paws after making his stance known.

Grimes scoots forward until he can rest his big head on Price’s lap, nuzzling down and looking up at him expectantly, and Price gives you a hesitant look. You just nod, smiling gently. “You’re gonna be staying with four of them, better get yourselves acquainted.”

“What in the bloody fuck did I miss?” A drowsy voice mutters from the doorway, and Ghost stands there, taking in the sight of Price kneeling before you, still clutching your sweatpants, and you can see the downturn of his lips through his mask when he notices the dried tears on Price’s cheek.

You gently pull Price’s hands off your sweats, and he looks as though you just took away his favorite treat. “I’ll go grab some fresh blankets.” You hum, face warming when you can feel both of their gazes on your back as you walk up the stairs.

“Wait, does that mean-“ You hear Ghost start, and you’re shocked to hear it so soft, but their words are lost as you turn down the hallway. You slip into the bedroom at the end of the hall, making quick work of dusting off the dresser and small TV, gently stacking a pile of clean sheets and towels. This room already had two beds, you just hoped they were big enough for these giant oafs.

You just about scream when a pair of hands grip your waist, and you whirl around. “Price you have got to stop grabbing me now- Oh.”

It was Ghost, eyes unreadable as he stares you down, and you clear your throat, loosening your grasp just a bit but still attempting to push him off.

“You scared me, you need to stop-“

“Thank you.” He interrupts, and your eyes widen as he pulls you closer.

“I- Well you’re welcome, I couldn’t just-“

“Yes you could. You could send out right back outside, hell you could get a goddamn brigade of officers here and you would be justified for it.” He shrugs, but you frown, shaking your head.

“No. From… from what Price told me, you all made your own choices to help those the governments deem lesser than them. You helped people who have watched law officials let them down again and again.” You state firmly, wincing slightly as you feel Ghost dig his fingers into your hips. “Easy.” You scold, and he immediately eases up, but doesn’t let go of you, keeping you pressed to him and your heart skips.

“I’ll just finish-“

“Whoever divorces such a sweet little bird must have absolute shit for brains.” Ghost states, quite confidently, and you can’t stop the shocked giggle that slips past. “Absolute fuckin idiot.”

“You can’t win me over with flattery you know.” You huff, but he sees right through you, dark eyes taking in your flustered expression, and you feel heat burn your cheeks as you avoid meeting his eye.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that. Think it’ll get me pretty damn far.” He grins, and you smack his hands before pausing.

“Wait.” You mutter, prying his right hand off of you and lifting it up, inspecting.

Your teeth made a pretty gnarly imprint, already scabbing. “Ah don’t worry about that. I deserved it.”

“C’mon you big idiot, before you let that thing get infected.” You order, pushing him towards the bathroom and he lets out a loud laugh, the sound causing butterflies to seize your stomach.

“Yes ma’am.”

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining the 141 looking for a medic because all of the ones they sign on keep dying or getting poached by other task forces. And you're a baby medic who is shadowing your higher rank and well esteemed teacher (who is actually the one on the 141's radar). But something goes horribly wrong...

You've done everything you possibly can but he's still drowning in his own blood.

He's tried walking you through everything through wheezing, wet breaths. He has a knowing look in his eye, this isn't working and it won't work. You're in the EVAC helicopter, but the time it'll take to get you back to base is too long.

"I-I'm sorry." You whimper, tears forming on your lashes. "I'm not a very good student."

Your mentor smiles sadly, his eyes glassy. He was always sweet to you when he was no nonsense with everyone else.

"You're doing great, kid." He huffs, blood leaking out the corner of his mouth. He winces and sputters up more but you're there. You try to fill up his vision and give him something to focus on. "People crash. Don't give up on 'em till it's over."

You cradle his head, memorize every wrinkle, scar, and patch on his kit. And then, it hits you.

He's right, its not over yet.

You rip through your medical supplies with shaking hands. It feels like it takes forever but it's merely seconds before you're sticking a needle from your vein into his. You watch the bag as it quickly fills with your blood before entering into him.

Your mentor chuckles and shakes his head weakly. This is nowhere near anything he taught you. But he knows it might just save his life since you're both the same blood type.

You go through multiple more needles releasing pressure on his lungs until he's even more stable than before. He finally has a shot and that's all that matters.

You're so close. Fifteen minutes out when he starts to crash again. You've exhausted everything. Your medical supplies are dwindling. You have no more blood to give. Your teacher just continues to smile at you. And he keeps smiling at you and he keeps smiling at you. You rub at his face, his eyes are far away. You feel for his pulse.

You scream.

It's not one of fear, but a deep, mournful cry. You turned your comms off forever ago but you know everyone could hear you, even through the wind. It carries your scream off and away as the heli's motors clip around you. You feel empty. He was supposed to teach you more. He was supposed to live.

You scream again and throw yourself over him. You sob and scream and grab at him, trying desperately to look for vitals. You know you won't find one but you're delirious. He's supposed to live! You did everything right!

Tears blur your vision but you notice someone out of the corner of your eye. It's one of the members of a different task force assigned to help your squad with this now terribly failed mission. He's their Captain, you think. He tries to reach down but you hiss at him. You don't care about rank. You don't care about the social ramifications. You scream to be heard over the wind.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

The man's eyes soften. You don't imagine what you look like. You probably look wild, feral, gnashing your teeth and growling. You don't care. He's YOUR teacher, he's YOUR responsibility. Quite frankly, you don't trust any of the other strangers watching you. You hiss at them too. Then you cry again.

You bury your face into your now dead mentor's chest and sob.

- - - - -

The look in your eye is like nothing he's ever seen before in a medic.

Price had watched you exhaust every possible avenue to save your superior's life. When all else failed you gave him your own blood. And when he finally succumbed to his injuries you threw yourself over him, not allowing anyone or anything to get close.

Even when they arrived on base, when your other superiors tired to swoop in, you stood your ground.

"I don't care! Even in death he's MY patient!" You yelled at your own Captain.

And surpisingly, they let you take care of him to the end. They even let you escort his body to the morgue. It's where Price finds you hours later.

You sit in a rusty old folding chair just outside the morgue doors. Your eyes are glazed over, far away, and still brimming with tears. He kneels in front of you to get on your level. He doesn't say anything, just waits for you to finally see him. You blink slowly and look up at him.

"I-I'm sorry..." You apologize. "I d-didn't mean t-"

"It's alright, Love." He hums and offers you a tight smile. "I understand."

He pats your knee in a fatherly way before standing up. His knees pop and he winces. You immediately stand up, your eyes searching him up and down.

"S' alright, I promise. Just a lil' stiff s' all." He soothes. "I need you to come with me."

He notices how your pretty lil' eyes widen. He shakes his head and offers a hand to help you out of the chair.

"You're not n' any trouble, sweetheart. I just want to talk with you."

He looks down at you with a knowing, sweet smile.

Your commitment is exactly what he's looking for.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You Find Out You're A Bet

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/n: before i get messaged about letting them “walk all over the reader” in order for it to have a fluffy ending there needs to be some give and take. 

CHAN:

You weren't even sure why you were at the party in the first place, Chan told you it was just going to be for ten minutes but you'd been wandering around for almost an hour completely alone now. Pulling out your phone, you were contemplating calling a cab when you heard faint voices approaching you in the garden. Curious, you stay hidden behind the tall bushes, not wanting to intrude but unable to move away from them. The voices become clearer, and you recognize them immediately—Minho and Hyunjin, two of Bang Chan's closest friends. Hyunjin was even in your art class.

"I can't believe Chan actually agreed to that bet," Hyunjin says, his tone filled with disbelief. Minho chuckles a little and shakes his head, he never would have expected it to have happened.

"Yeah, who would've thought? But he's pulling it off. YN doesn't suspect a thing." Your heart stops. The blood in your veins turns to ice as you strain to hear more, hoping against hope that you've misunderstood what they were saying. Your stomach felt as though it was going to drop out of your ass.

"Do you think he'll actually go through with it?" Hyunjin asks, looking at Minho with an uneasy look on his face. Chan wasn't known to be mean or malicious and maybe it wasn't a malicious thing they'd set him up to do...In fact, their friend seemed happy around you.

"I don't know. He seemed pretty determined to prove us wrong. But you know how Chan is—always needing to be the best at everything." Minho laughed softly and you felt like the ground had opened up beneath you. A bet. To get with you. Your vision blurs as tears sting your eyes. You can't stand to hear anymore. You step back, accidentally snapping a twig underfoot. The sound is loud in the stillness, and you curse under your breath.

"Did you hear that?" Hyunjin says, and you know you need to leave. Now.

Without thinking, you turn and run, the party forgotten, your heart shattered. You just ran and ran until you found yourself back at your dorms.

How could he? You trusted him. You liked him. You thought he liked you too. The memories of your time together, the laughter, the stolen glances, all feel like cruel jokes now. It wasn't as though it was just a few dates, it was three whole fucking months!

You didn't know how long you'd been sitting in your dorm, wrapped in your misery, but eventually, you heard footsteps approaching before your door opened, you hated that you'd given him a key. You look up to see Bang Chan, his face etched with worry and desperation.

"YN," he calls out softly, hesitating a few feet away as if he's afraid you'll run again, the boys told him what happened and he instantly needed to find you.

"Please, let me explain." You shake your head, standing up, your stomach flipping as you try to speak without crying. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction.

"There's nothing to explain, Chan. I heard everything. It was all a bet to you. Yn, the big fucking joke," Your voice cracked at the end and Chan took a step closer, his eyes pleading with yours as he shakes his head at you.

"No, it wasn't. It started that way, yes, but it's not like that anymore. I swear." His own voice broke this time as he reached out to take your hands but you snatched them away from his reach.

"How am I supposed to believe you?" you ask, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Everything feels like a lie now." You breathed out. This time Chan closes the distance between you, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch your arm.

"Because I fell for you, YN. For real. Somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering. You became the only thing that mattered." You search his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit, but all you see is the sincerity and pain he'd caused you. You want to believe him, but your heart is still raw, you didn't want him to be able to walk right over you but you'd fallen for him too.

"Give me a chance to make it right," he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that this is real...That how I feel about you isn't some kind of joke and I'm utterly in love with you. I can't lose you over a stupid mistake." You hesitate, the battle between your heart and mind raging on, your mind screaming at you not to be stupid but your heart is beating it, fighting it tooth and nail to get him back.

Finally, you take a shaky breath look at him and nod your head.

"One chance, Chan. But if you hurt me again, we're done." Your voice came out stern as you told him, there was no way you were going to let him take advantage of you in any way. Relief practically washed over his face as he nodded,

"I promise, I won't." Chan looked at you for confirmation before stepping closer, wrapping you in a gentle hug. You whimpered a little before letting yourself melt into him, feeling the warmth and steadiness of his heartbeat against your cheek. It doesn't erase the pain not even close, but it's a start and Chan was going to prove to you every single day how much you meant to him. More than some ever silly bet.

As he holds you, whispering apologies and reassurances, you just close your eyes, enjoying the closeness between you both

MINHO:

Tonight was your birthday party, kind of. You were sharing it with a couple of other people from your class in University and Minho had thrown it for you. It was also to celebrate your anniversary with one another. 

"I'll be right back." You whisper to Minho, quickly kissing his cheek and going to get you both a drink from the kitchen but as you walk you feel someone watching you and it doesn't take long until, Seungmin approaches you, with a look of irritation on his face. 

"Hey, YN, can we talk for a minute?" He grumbles a little and you frown. You and Seungmin had only ever talked in passing whenever you were with Minho and he happened to be around. The two of you weren't the chatting type...with each other at least. You nod, curious about what he had to say to you alone. Without another word, he leads you to a quieter corner of the garden, away from the noise of the party.

"What's up?" you ask, trying to read his expression but it was blank, almost as if he didn't want to give anything away to you. Seungmin crosses his arms, clearly agitated by something.

"Look, you deserve to know something. Minho didn't start dating you because he liked you. It was a bet. He wanted to prove he could make anyone fall for him." The words were so cold coming from his lips and your heart stopped, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut as you shook your head.

"What are you talking about?" He sighs, running a hand through his hair clearly not in the mood for this anymore. 

"It was just a stupid bet between him and the guys. But now, he’s acting all lovey-dovey, and it's like he actually fell for you. It's annoying." Did he sound annoyed at you for it? As if it was your fault, HIS friend had fallen in love.

You feel a wave of emotions crash over you—hurt, anger, disbelief, everything hitting you all at once. Why the fuck he was telling you this now was beyond you.

"Why are you telling me this?" You snap at him,

"Because it's ridiculous," Seungmin says, his tone sharp. 

"He was supposed to prove a point, not fall in love. It's pathetic." he looked you up and down in disgust and you pulled your arms around your body, trying to shield yourself as if his words were actually hitting you physically. You don't bother to wait to hear more you march back into the party, searching for Minho. You find him laughing with some friends, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you. You grab his arm and pull him aside, the anger bubbling up to the surface.

"YN, what's wrong?" he asks, concern flashing in his eyes, his hands holding onto you as you shake your head. Taking in a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady you stared at him. 

"Is it true?" You didn't say anything else and Minho frowned,

"Is what true, baby?" He reached out to touch your face but you moved away from him, glaring at him.

"Did you start dating me because of a bet?" His face pales, and you see the guilt written all over it, his stomach twisting itself into knots.

"Who told you that?" He whispered, not even denying the claim.

"So, it is true," you say, your voice breaking as tears spilt down your cheeks. 

"I can't believe you, Minho. I thought you cared about me." You grumbled, shoving against his shoulders but he didn't even move, he just stayed in place.

"I do care about you," he says desperately, reaching for your hand but you yanked it away from him. 

"It started as a bet, yes, but that changed. I changed. I fell for you, YN. For real. This is fucking real!" He yells at you as he reaches for you once again. But his betrayal was cutting you deep.

"How am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to trust you?! This whole time, was any of it real?" You were sobbing by now and people were starting to stare but you didn't care. He steps closer to you, his eyes pleading. 

"Yes, it was real. Every moment we spent together, every laugh, every kiss—it was real. I know I messed up, but please, give me a chance to make it right." His voice was soft as he begged you to let him prove himself to you. You stare into his eyes, searching for the truth, you always thought you could read him easily but now you weren't even sure. 

The hurt is still raw, but beneath it, you see the sincerity and regret written all over his face. 

"How can I trust you again, Minho?" Your voice came out weak and when he reached to take your hand in his, you let him. He stared at you as he smiled, holding your hands tightly.

"I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious. I love you, YN. I was an idiot to ever make that bet, but I swear, you mean everything to me now." He whispers, one of his hands reaching up and cupping your face in his hands, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb. You want to believe him, but the pain is still fresh in your mind. 

"It's going to take time, Minho. I can't just forget about this." You gestured between you but he nodded, laying his forehead against yours,

"I understand," he says softly. 

"I'll wait as long as it takes. Just don't walk away from us...Please" You take a deep breath, the anger starting to ebb away, leaving behind a fragile hope that this would work between you, that there was a future here.

"Okay. But you have to be honest with me. No more lies." He nods, relief flooding his features as he practically yanks you into his chest.

"No more lies. I promise."

CHANGBIN:

Sitting in the middle of your history lecture, you find it increasingly difficult to focus, your new professor had a one-tone voice and you could feel yourself drifting off the longer he spoke. Sighing a little to yourself you reached into your bag for your phone. It had been buzzing non-stop for the last twenty minutes and you wanted to see what was happening. As you pulled it out a flurry of notifications began lighting up the screen. When the professor turns to write on the board, you sneak a glance at your phone, trying to figure out what was happening so much that needed this much attention on the matter.

Your heart sinks as you see a string of messages and missed calls from friends. One message catches your eye: a screenshot from an unknown number. You glanced up to make sure the professor was still busy and you caught the look of some of the girls in your class who were looking at you with pity, smiling weakly as they turned away from you.

Frowning you turned back to your phone to open the message, and your stomach dropped. The screenshot shows a group chat where Changbin discusses a bet with his friends—apparently to prove he could make you fall for him. The date on the message is from several months ago, shortly before you started dating.

Your heart races and a wave of nausea washes over you, your skin starting to sweat as you panicked more and more. You feel eyes on you as you hastily gather your things and leave the classroom, needing to get away from the prying gazes and the oppressive silence. The professor called for you but you didn't even give him a glance as you legged it down the hallway, trying to get away. It felt like all eyes were on you.

As soon as you are alone outside of Changbin's dorm, you dial Changbin's number with trembling fingers. He answers on the second ring, his voice bright and cheerful.

"Hey, baby! What's up?" What's up?! How could he even be so fucking calm about this?

"We need to talk. Now," you say, struggling to keep your voice steady. Maybe he didn't know that the photos were going "viral" around the college yet.

"Sure, where are you? I'll come to you." You could hear him moving to get his keys but you sniffled a little.

"I'm outside your dorm," you reply before hanging up, not giving him a chance to say anything else to you.

You pace back and forth, the minutes stretching out painfully. Finally, you see Changbin approaching, a concerned look on his face.

"YN, what's wrong? You look-" You hold up your phone, cutting him off midsentence, showing him the screenshot. "

What is this, Changbin? Did you make a bet about dating me?" You couldn't stop the hurt in your voice as you stared at him. Waiting for him to deny it, to say it was fake. Anything. Just to tell you that the two of you were real despite what that fucking thing said. His eyes widen, and you see the colour drain from his face.

"YN, I can explain—" You cut him off, your voice shaking with anger and hurt.

"Explain what? That our entire relationship is based on a bet? That I've been nothing but a game to you? That I'm the biggest fucking joke to you?!" You cry softly,

"That nothing between us was ever fucking real?" You finish as he shakes his head at you,

"No, it wasn't like that," he says, his voice desperate as he reaches for you.

"It started as a stupid bet, but I swear, I fell for you. For real. You're not a game to me, what I feel for you isn't a game...It isn't fake..."

"Am I supposed to get on my knees and thank you for it? I-I'm not some kind of fucking joke!" You yell at him, gaining the attention of passersby but you didn't give a shit.

"How am I supposed to believe that?" you snap, tears welling up in your eyes. "Everything feels like a lie now." He takes a step closer, his hands reaching out to you as you let him touch you.

"Please, YN, you have to believe me. I was an idiot, and I made a mistake, but my feelings for you are real. I love you." It was the first time he'd ever said those three words to you and yet it felt like a slap to the face rather than something you'd been dying to hear from him.

You turn away, trying to collect your thoughts. The pain is overwhelming, but so is the look of sincerity in his eyes, you hated him and yet you loved him all at the same time.

"Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Everyone saw that screenshot. Everyone knows...People in class were staring at me, looking at me with pity!" You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shook your head,

"I know, and I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I'll tell everyone the truth. I'll make sure they know how much I care about you, how real this is between us." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"This isn't just about everyone else. You broke my trust and my heart, Changbin. I don't know if I can get past that." He looks at you, his eyes filled with regret as he realises just how badly he'd fucked this up between the two of you.

"I understand. But please, give me a chance to prove myself. Let me show you that what we have is real." But you just left him standing there, giving yourself space to think.

Eventually, you went back to him, deciding you wanted to try and make things work between you and it had taken months of hard work from him for you to finally trust him again.

HYUNJIN:

The wedding reception is in full swing, the joyous atmosphere filling the beautifully decorated hall. You smile as you watch your friends and family celebrating with each other, your gaze wandering over to your husband now who was talking to a few of his friends. Your wedding day has been everything you dreamed of and more, it was everything you'd ever wanted since you were a little girl.

As you move through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, you overhear a conversation that stops you in your tracks, your hand resting on the lower back of someone who congratulated you but your mind is on the conversation. 

"I can't believe it all started as a bet. Who would've thought he'd actually fall in love with her and have a wedding like this?" Your heart skipped a beat, and it felt as though someone had just doused you in freezing cold water. You step closer, trying to catch more of the conversation without drawing attention to yourself.

"Yeah, remember how smug he was about it? But now look at him, married and everything," Seungmin laughs and you suddenly feel like the ground has been pulled out from under you. Your wedding day, the happiest day of your life, suddenly feels like a cruel joke between everyone there. Did everyone know it was a bet? How could he have not said anything to you? The two of you had been together for nine years now and he hadn't thought it bring it up once? 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decide you need to confront Hyunjin. Now.

As soon as you'd found him you dragged him away from listening ears and walked toward the toilets, shutting the door and ignoring the wolf-whistles from people who had seen the interaction. You bolted the door shut and Hyunjin smirked,

"Couldn't wait for the wedding night, baby?" He teases, stopping when you turn around to face him.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, noticing the serious look on your face. He was ready to kill whoever had made you this pissed off on your wedding day of all days.

"We need to talk. Now," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Where were you even supposed to start with this? 

"Hyunjin, is it true? Did our relationship start as a bet?" you ask, your voice shaking as you stare at him. The expression on his face was all you needed for him to confirm it was real. His eyes widened in shock, and you see the guilt flash across his face. 

"YN, I can explain—"

"All this time, everything we built, started as a stupid bet?" You whispered, almost as if you were scared someone was going to be listening outside.

"Yes, it started as a bet," he admits, his voice filled with regret. "But it changed, YN. I changed. We've been together for nine years! You think I'd marry you for some cruel joke?" He steps toward you but you take a step back, feeling betrayed.

  "How could you not tell me? How could you let me marry you without knowing the truth?" You stared at him. As if your vows hadn't included that you'd never lie or hide something from one another.

"I was scared," he says softly. "Scared of losing you, scared that you wouldn't believe me if I told you. But my feelings for you are real. They have been for a long time, nine years baby I'd...I can't be without you." Tears fill your eyes as you struggle to process his words.

"How am I supposed to trust you now, Hyunjin? On our wedding day, of all days? You could have told me nine fucking years ago and I would...I would have had time to"

"I know," He whispers, his eyes boring into yours as he shakes his head.

"I know I fucked up. I should have told you a long time ago. But I love you, YN. I love you more than anything. Please, give me a chance to prove that to you. I meant every single thing in my vows...This isn't a joke to me," You needed to believe him and you did. Nine years was a long time for a bet and you knew it was real now but it didn't stop the hurt you were feeling right now. 

"I don't know if I can just forget about this, Hyunjin. It hurts too much." You cry softly and he reaches out, wiping away the tears with a tissue trying not to ruin the makeup you were wearing.

"I understand," he says, his voice breaking. "But please, don't let this ruin what we have. We've built a life together, a future. Don't let a mistake I made years ago take that away from us." You take a deep breath, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him. 

"It's going to take time, Hyunjin. I can't just move past this overnight."

"I know," he says, relief flooding his features, holding you in his arms as he whispers. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I promise." He rocks you back and forth slightly as he kisses the top of your head.

JISUNG:

The night was going amazing, you and Jisung were at your favourite restaurant, a cosy little place with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. He told you he wanted to take you back to where your relationship started years ago, in the restaurant where you'd had your first date. He's been acting a bit nervous all night, and you have a feeling something big is about to happen, he'd made sure to let you know to get your nails done too...Jisung wasn't always the secretive guy he pretended to be.

"yn," He smiled as he reached over the table and took your hand. He looks into your eyes, a mixture of love and anxiety in his gaze, slowly he slides out from his chair and drops on one knee in front of you. Your heart racing as you giggled. 

"I have spent every single day loving you for the last four years and I wanted to spend every single day for the rest of our lives doing it the same," He tells you. But just as he starts to speak again, you hear a familiar voice from a nearby table.

"Hey, isn't that Jisung and YN?" You glance over to see Changbin who is staring at you both and you look back at Jisung trying to focus on the proposal but the following words make your heart drop.

"Remember how she was just a bet years ago? And now look, she's about to be his future wife!" His voice was full of amusement and your heart stopped. The words cut through the romantic atmosphere like a knife. You pull your hand away from Jisung's and turn to face Changbin, the shock and hurt evident on your face.

"What?" You whispered, staring at Changbin and then to Jisung who looked panicked as he shook his head. 

"YN, please, let me explain."

You stand up, your emotions boiling over as you knock into the table and knock the glass of wine shattering to the floor gaining more attention to you both. 

"Explain what, Jisung? That our entire relationship started as a joke? That I was nothing but a bet to you?" You shake your head, trying to get away but he reaches out to you, desperation in his eyes. 

"It wasn't like that...O-okay...Yes, it started as a stupid bet, but that was years ago!" You shake your head, tears starting to blur your vision, and people are staring at you both. 

"How could you not tell me? How could you keep this from me all these years?" You whispered at him as he shook his head. His friends told him to tell you years ago when he started falling for you but he thought he could hide it. That if you never found out the way it started it wouldn't matter because you loved each other.

"I was terrified," he admits, his voice breaking as he shook his head. 

"Scared of losing you, terrified you'd never forgive me. But I love you, YN. More than anything." The betrayal felt like a weight on your chest, suffocating you as you shook your head. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. 

"I need some air." You whispered and walked away. 

You walked and walked until you stopped at a park, holding your arms around yourself and crying softly. It didn't take Jisung to catch up to you, calling your name, but you didn't look at him as your shoulders began shaking with silent sobs.

"YN, please. I never meant to hurt you. The bet was a mistake, a stupid, immature mistake. But my love for you is real. It always has been and it always...will be, baby." You turn to face him, the pain and anger still raw as you stare at him. 

"How am I supposed to believe that, Jisung? After everything?" He knew it wasn't going to be something quick he could move past but he was never going to stop until he proved to you how true this was.

"Because I’ve spent every day since then trying to be the best man I can be for you. Because I can’t imagine my life without you. I was going to propose to you tonight because I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you." You stared into his eyes, trying to decide if this was real or just some extension of the bet but he stared at you, his hurt and guilt clear on his face.

"You broke the trust between us...Everything feels like a lie now." You whisper, allowing yourself to hold onto him as he rubs your back softly,

"This isn't how I wanted this night to go...I fucked this all up, and I will do fucking anything to make you realise that what I feel is real..."

You take a deep breath, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him, you wanted your life with him. Your life with him was everything you'd been dreaming of. 

"This...This isn't some part of the bet?" You gestured at the box in his hand and he shook his head,

"Never...Ever," He whispered as he looked at you, you nodded and he slowly knelt back down in front of you.

"I will spend every single day making this up to you if you agree to be my wife. I will spend every day, bringing you flowers, making you songs...doing whatever it takes to prove it's real...Will you-" You kissed him before he could even finish asking you and he whined.

"I-Is that a yes?" He panted as you pulled back from one another, you slowly nodded at him.

FELIX:

You and Felix are sitting in your favourite coffee shop, the one where you’ve shared many dates with each other when you started dating a few months back but something felt strange today. Felix seemed different than his usual self around you today and it was starting to worry you a little bit. He was being quieter, and more jittery than normal. You sip your coffee, waiting for him to speak, thinking he would come to you when he was good and ready.

Finally, he takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours but there is guilt and fear written all across his face as he stares at you,

“YN, there’s something I need to tell you.” You set your cup down, your heart beginning to race. Was he going to break up with you? Is that was this was?

“What is it, Lix?” You reached your hands over the table to touch him but he pulled his hands away and looked away from you for a moment, gathering his thoughts. The boys had warned him not to do this, that it wouldn't be good to ruin what you had but he no longer wanted to lie about why your relationship had started. When he spoke, his voice was shaky.

“Our relationship... it didn’t start the way you think it did..." He coughed a little as he cleared his throat,

"It started as a bet.” The words rushed out but you heard every single one of them as your heart sank to the pit of your stomach,

“A bet? What do you mean?” He winces at the hurt in your voice, he'd been trying to brace himself for this for a few weeks now but he hadn't done it enough.

“It was stupid and immature. Some of the guys bet that I couldn’t get you to go on a date with me. At first, it was just about proving them wrong. But YN, it didn’t stay that way. I’ve fallen for you, really fallen for you. That’s why I have to be honest with you now. I couldn't keep lying about why all of this had started.” One minute you'd been so in love with him and now it felt as though someone had ripped the floor out from under you,

“So, this whole time, I was just a game to you?” You whispered, shaking your head at him.

“No,” he says quickly, reaching for your hand again.

“You were never just a game. I know it started that way, but it changed. You changed me. When we went on that first date I knew I was going to fall for you and I made them stop the whole thing. I didn't take their money...” You pull your hand away, standing up trying to get out of the cafe without drawing too much attention to you both.

“How am I supposed to believe that, Felix? How can I trust anything you’ve said?” He stands too in a rush, knocking his cup over but neither of you moves, his eyes stare into yours, pleading with you.

“Because I’m telling you the truth now. I was scared to lose you, but I realized that if I kept this from you, it would be worse. I couldn’t keep lying to you. I love you, YN. That’s real. What I feel for you? It's so real.”

Tears blur your vision as you shake your head, the betrayal cutting deep inside of you as you shook your head, this all felt like a big joke.

“You should have told me sooner. You should have given me the choice...”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do what I can to make this right. Please, don’t walk away from us.” You look at him and bite your lip,

“I need time, Felix. This hurts too much.” You whispered as he nodded at you, watching you walk away from him.

One evening, as you sat alone in your dorm, there was a small knock on the door. Slowly you got up to open it and find Felix standing there, looking vulnerable and hopeful. There was a huge bouquet of flowers, not that you needed any more of them. There were already twenty of them sitting all around your apartment.

“YN, can we talk?” he asks softly. Slowly you stepped aside and let him into the apartment and he sat down watching you closely.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” you say finally. “About us, about everything. I still don’t know if I can fully trust you, but I also know that I love you. I miss you.” Your voice cracked as he jumped up, rushing to your side and took your hand gently.

“I miss you too. I know I messed up, and I’ll spend every day proving to you that my love is real. No more secrets, no more lies.” You told him as you looked into his eyes, searching for the truth. All you see is sincerity and regret.

“It’s going to take time, Felix. A lot of time.” He nodded at you, kissing your hand softly,

“I understand,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’ll be here, every step of the way. I love you, YN. More than anything.”

SEUNGMIN:

It was a quiet and very lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re curled up on the couch with Seungmin. He’s napping beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, and you’re idly scrolling through his phone, looking for the photos he'd taken of you both last week when you went to the animal sanctuary, you wanted to send them to your mum since she was always asking for photos. As you swipe through his videos, one catches your eye: a familiar group of friends, with Seungmin front and centre.

Curiosity piqued, and you tap on the video wondering what it could have been. The two of you had no secrets from one another, or so you'd thought.

The laughter and rowdy voices of Seungmin and his friends fill the room in the video. You recognize the setting instantly—it’s from a few months ago, just before you and Seungmin started dating. You knew that because it was the same outfit Seungmin had asked you out in, something you'd memorised.

"Alright, boys, here are the rules," Seungmin's voice booms from the video as people cheered around him, you frowned a little.

"The first one to get YN to fall for them wins. No cheating, and you have to actually date her for at least three months. Loser buys drinks for a year." You stared at the screen as if you wished it was some kind of nightmare you were having. But as you realise it was real your heart drops. The phone feels like it’s burning your hand, and you quickly pause the video. Seungmin stirs beside you, his eyes fluttering open.

“Hey, what are you watching?” he asks groggily, yawning a little before you scoff at him.

“Oh you know, just a cute little video of my boyfriend saying I'm a fucking bet,” you spit at him, showing him the screen and restarting to video all over again. His eyes widen in horror as he realizes what you’ve seen.

“YN, listen...I can explain.” He pleaded but you were already standing up, throwing his phone down onto the sofa beside him and trying to gather your shit.

“So, I was just a bet to you? Some kind of game? How long were you going to keep it going?” You laughed dryly. The video said three months but the two of you had been together for almost ten months now. Seungmin scrambles to sit up, panic clear on his face.

“No, it’s not like that. It started as a bet, yes, but that was before I really got to know you. I swear, my feelings for you are real.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? Huh? You sat there and you-” You barely got the words out, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You made me fall for you because of a stupid bet. I thought we had something real, Seungmin.” You grab your things, throwing them into a bag as he follows you around his apartment, blocking you from going into the bedroom,

“We do! We do have something real, baby! This is real!” he insists, standing and reaching out to you, but you move away from his touch and shake your head at him.

“I was an idiot, okay? It was juvenile and wrong, and I regret it every day. But YN, I fell for you. Truly. That’s why I need to be honest with you now.” You step back, the pain of betrayal cutting you like a knife and you shake your head.

"Send me the rest of my shit," You snap before storming out of his apartment and going home.

[X]

It had been a month, a month of pure torture every time you realised you still loved Seungmin despite him lying to you and hiding something huge from you and yet you missed him. Every single day you would get a new delivery of flowers or a teddy bear with a card that explained a reason why Seungmin had fallen in love with you and he was making it incredibly difficult to hate him.

"Seungmin," You breathed finding him at your door one more.

“I’m standing here, telling you the truth...okay,” he says, tears now in his eyes as he looks at you.

“I’m risking everything because I can’t lose you. I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if you’ll let me.”

You look into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit and you can see how much he regretted doing this to you.

“It’s going to take time, Seungmin. I can’t just forget about this overnight...But I miss-" You barely had time to finish before he threw himself into your arms and hugged you tightly against him.

JEONGIN:

You’re having dinner at Jeongin’s family home, enjoying a relaxed evening with his parents and younger brother. They'd invited you over since you were Jeongin's first-ever real girlfriend and they wanted to meet the girl who had stolen his heart. The atmosphere is warm and lively, and it felt so easy to fit in with their banter. You feel completely at ease, having grown close to Jeongin's family over the months you’ve been dating. It would have been a year next month.

As you help clear the table after dinner, his younger brother suddenly speaks up,  

“Hey, YN, what did you and Jeongin do with the money?”

"What money?" You laughed softly wondering what he was talking about, behind you Jeongin had paled dramatically.

"From the bet...The one he made to ask you out." his tone was so casual but his words were like a dagger to your heart.

The room falls silent. You freeze, the plates in your hands feeling like they weigh a ton and it took everything inside of you not to drop them on the floor. Slowly you turn to look at Jeongin, who is pale and wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard by the fact that his brother had bought it up.

“What's he talking about?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin's baby bother, oblivious to the tension he’s caused, continues,

“Yeah, Jeongin and his friends bet that he couldn’t get you to go to some party with him. It was just a joke, but I guess it worked out between you both, right?” You feel like the ground has collapsed beneath you. The warmth and comfort of the evening vanished, replaced by a cold, hard betrayal. You look at Jeongin, hoping for some kind of denial, but he just stares at you, guilt and panic written all over his face.

"yn..." He whispers but you place the plates down, shaking your head and heading out of the apartment needing some time to think clearly but it wasn't going to happen as Jeongin chased after you.

“YN, please, let me explain.” He begged but you stepped back, shaking your head. “Not here. We’ll talk about this at home.”

[X]

When Jeongin finally joined you back at home it was like the air was thick with tension and you stared at him,

“So, it was all a bet? Our entire relationship started as some kind of joke?” you demand, tears welling up in your eyes. Jeongin looks desperate, his hands trembling as he tries to reach for you. 

“Yes, it started as a bet. But YN, it was a stupid, immature mistake. I never meant for it to go this far.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” you shout, pulling away from him. 

“I trusted you, Jeongin! I thought what we had was real.” You yelled at him and he shook his head at you,

“It is real,” he insists, his voice breaking. “I fell in love with you, truly. That’s why I never told you. I was scared of losing you. You mean everything to me, YN.” He pleaded with you.

"I never would have taken you to meet my family if I didn't love you. I wanted you to see them, to see the family that would one day be yours." You desperately wanted to believe him but everything was still weighing down on your chest. 

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say now? How do I know this isn’t just another part of the bet?”

“Because I’m here, telling you the truth,” he says, tears streaming down his face. 

"Because I'm hopelessly and dramatically in love with you. I would fly a plane and write it in the sky if I could! In fact! I'll hire someone to do it, I'll....I'll do anything, please, yn." He held your hands in his and you started at him, everything still so fresh.

"Innie..."

“I know, Yn, I fucked up but please...” he whispers, stepping closer cautiously. 

“I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to deem me worthy of your forgiveness. I’ll prove to you that my love is real. No more lies, no more secrets.” You nod slowly, the anger and pain slowly giving way to the love you still feel for him, everything was real between you and you could tell that from his family but it didn't make it easy. 

“Okay. But you have to be honest with me from now on. No more lies, ever.”

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[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[areislol]

"would you kiss me for $10 or the hottest person in the world for $1000?"

ft— blade, gepard, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, welt, sampo, luka, argenti, dr. ratio

warning — none, just fluff! might be ooc, established relationship, gn! reader, no yanqing for this ;( mentions of kissing, might be cringe..? chinese names are simplified. not proofread.

a/n— y'all i apologize if they're ooc (can't justify it i haven't even played hsr yet) so yes. ENJOY as this is my second time writing for 'em

wordcount. 4.2k

刃 blade

✧ .... he knew it was one of those.. silly media questions that couples do to one another. and he hates you for actually doing them (not really he loves you too much)

✧ he continued to stay silent as he sat on the bench, watching as you sat beside him—anticipating for his response that will decide whether or not he will sleep on the couch or not.

✧ "ugh you big bum just answer the question!!" you groan, slumping down on the bench.

✧ blade cocks his head and raises his brow, smirking at you. "you mean the complex question that will probably lead you unhappy if i don't say the answer you were hoping for and then not talk to me for the next couple of hours as you're petty and—"

✧ you quickly shut him up with your palm over his mouth, you were now mad at him for being too god damn right. warmth spread to your cheeks as you stared at him, completely flustered.

✧ "you better shut that mouth of yours baldie." you threaten, still keeping your palm over his mouth when you felt the icky, wet and textured feeling gliding across your palm, it was his tongue.

✧ wasting no time you pulled your hand back and stared at your palm before vigorously wiping it on your shirt, absolutely disgusted. "ewwww!! and you still haven't answered my question!!" you pout.

✧ blade huffs (he's very sassy), "yeah not after calling me baldie. i'm not even bald." he was so serious about it, it was very amusing to you.

✧ you pout even more, scooching closer to him. "okay i'm sorry for calling you baldie.. and yes you aren't bald. now will you please answer my question?!" blade continues to glare at you, thinking about his answer. well, he was only pretending to anyway.

✧ he already knew his answer the second the question slipped out of your mouth, obviously, kiss you for $10 (credits). even if it was for $1000 he could easily get that amount of money in a day and plus, you are the most hottest person in the entire universe.

✧ but he decided to tease you, he put on his thinking face, tapping his finger on his chin. "hm... i really don't know it's so hard to choose..." he hums, looking down at your face as he smirks in amusement at your silly little mad face.

✧ "so hard? SO HARD FOR WHAT????" you asked, leaning in closer. oh you were for sure getting irritated now.

✧ blade chuckles before engulfing you in a tight hug as you sat on his lap, face buried in his chest. "of course kiss you for $10, i don't need $1000 anyway."

✧ "what about the pretty part?" "you are the hottest of them all, y/n."

✧ you hummed in content, happy with his answer before speaking again. "see, it wasn't a trick question at all." blade rolls his eyes. "uh huh... so you weren't going to quote-on-quote, 'ground' me if i said the wrong answer?"

✧ "....no...."

✧ (btw he was still a lil hurt when you called him baldie. like wow, it really hit him deep)

杰帕德 gepard

✧ the second you asked him the question he did not hesitate and answered within 1 billion light speed.

✧ "you of course! i don't want to a random stranger who i don't know for $1000, i don't need that money when i have you."

✧ "oh— gepard—" yeah, you almost burst into tears at his answer. it was so geniune, sweet and adorable. even his face said it all!! he looked at you with such sincere eyes as he told you his reply!!

✧ gepard almost freaked out thinking he said the wrong thing when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, he immediately held onto your shoulders, apologizing if he did anything wrong.

✧ you shake your head no and wipe away your tears dramatically, "n—no i'm fine gepard i'm just— i didn't expect you to say your answer so quickly! when i saw other couples doing it the other person is always hesitating or something."

✧ gepard is confused, was this a test or something? (poor baby doesn't know) and so you have to explain to him what the trend is all about and all that jazz.

✧ he doesn't think that it's a bad trend or anything, if anything he encourages you to ask him more questions!! anything you ask, he will reply asap 100%!!

✧ and so you asked more questions.

✧ "you don't care about the money gepard? that's a lot though, $1000!" you exclaim, gepard shakes his head and smiles, "i already said why i don't need that money, love, i don't need the money when i have you, you're priceless."

✧ EUGHHHHHHHHH HE JUST HAS TO HIT YOU WITH THAT. you smiled back and gave him a kiss on his cheek before backing away. "that's so sweet of you... okay next question, who is the hottestperson in the world?"

✧ gepard only stares into your eyes, mesmerized by your face, his eyes are trained on you and only you as his thumb caresses your cheek. "you, of course, you're the most hottest.. although i'd rather use prettiest instead, you are the most prettiest and amazing person in the entire universe."

✧ safe to say his face was peppered with kisses after that, not that he minds it.

丹恒 dan heng

✧ "what kind of question is that?" is the first thing he says, looking at you in confusion as he closes the book he was reading.

✧ you had just entered his room, phone in hand before asking him the question out of the blue so he assumed you saw something from the media which now... lead to this.

✧ you shrug, going back to your question. "don't be trying to change the topic, what would you do? kiss me for $10 or kiss the hottest person in the world for $1000?" you repeated, your brows furrowing. to dan heng, it was crazy scary how you looked right now, so desperate for his answer.

✧ "well obviously the hottest person in the world for $1000, that' so much money!" he replied, knowing what this was going to lead him to. "......so... you would kiss the most hottest person in the world for more money?"

✧ dan heng cringes as he nods his head slowly. your eyes narrowed as you began to glare at him, soon, you stormed out of his room, pissed, and with a right as well.

✧ dan heng sighs in defeat before getting up from his seat and following you to where you always went when you were mad, to the kitchen.

✧ and he was right, you were in the kitchen just snacking on food you just bought the day before, when you spotted him you turned around, your back facing him. "baby c'mon im sorry i was just joking.."

✧ hearing him call you "baby" did something to you but you didn't want to give in just yet. you were mad at him still. you pout (not like he can see you but still) and continue to munch on your food angrily.

✧ "i didn't mean to, i promise i was just joking. i would much rather kiss you for $100 i pinky swear." .... "pinky swear?" "pinky swear."

✧ safe to say you accepted his apology as he absolutely peppered your face with millions of kisses before engulfing you in his arms.

✧ "you're ridiculous..." dan heng sighs, resting his eyes. "yeah well you love me so" well, he can't deny that.

景元 jing yuan

✧ jing yuan is definenetly doing the mathematical calculations in his head right now. because what in tarnation are you talking about?!

✧ he stares at you like you're crazy for a second before sighing, looking down and closing his eyes shut (he reminded you a lot like a disappointed dad...)

✧ "what do you mean? why are you asking me this out of the blue..." for one, he is a tad bit afraid that if he says the wrong thing you will sentence him to three (3) days to sleep on the couch, yeah, you banish him from your SHARED bedroom multiple times when he said the "wrong thing".

✧ you repeat your question again, waiting for his answer. "what a silly question, i would kiss you of course, with or without the $10." he breathed, planting a kiss on your forehead before pulling away and smirking, he knew that that was what you wanted to hear and the kiss was the cherry on top.

✧ for a few seconds you just sat there, too flustered to do anything. YES YOU KNEW IT WAS JUST A FOREHEAD KISS BUT IT'S JING YUAN OKAY

✧ "hm? is something the matter, my love?" he questions, leaning in closer to your face, he was much more taller than you (obviously) so he was quite literally towering over you, his face was so close to yours.

✧ you shake your head before going in for a small and chaste kiss and closing your eyes, you can feel the smile on his lips as he pulls you closer to him by your waist and deepens the kiss. your brain was starting to get fuzzy as you felt more and more delirious. jing yuan just knew how to make you fold.

✧ "hey! this isn't an excuse to make out with me you know?" you pull away breathless, looking quite dazed just for this "simple" kiss. jing yuan hums, resting his head on your shoulder before speaking up.

✧ "you know you love it." at his words you sigh and shake your head, "well i can't deny that..." you reply with a smile as you run your fingers through his soft hair.

✧ a few minutes go by in silence, you assume that jing yuan was asleep by how calm and quite he was, when the silence was broken. "does this mean i can sleep in our shared bedroom?"

✧ your brows furrowed at his words, was that all he was thinking about? "mmmmmmm now that you mentioned it..." "no." you chuckled, patting his head. "i know i know, yes, you get to sleep in our shared bedroom."

罗刹 luocha

✧ "what an odd question.." luocha replies, observing your very serious face. he found it amusing how you looked so serious after asking such a silly question.

✧ you whine and shake his arm, "just answer the question luocha it is very serious!! i need to know your answer!!" .... okay yes apparently it was very serious as you literally called him by his name and not some cute nickname.

✧ luocha offers you a soft and tender smile, the one he always does every time he spots you and or is with you (it never fails to make you swoon), "of course you, i don't need the money when i have you, are you doubting something my dear?"

✧ you shake your head at his words, happy with his answer. "no, everything's fine don't worry! thanks lychee." luocha then engulfs you in a hug all of the sudden, the scent of flowers filled your nose as his hair tickled your face.

✧ "your hair's in my face babe—" you mumble, moving the strands of hair off your face. luocha quickly apologized before pulling away, he cups your cheeks and stares deep into your eyes, which confused you.

✧ luocha continues to stare at you for a good hot minute, he was thinking about something. "say, did anything happen to you that prompted you to ask me that question? did someone do something? did i do something wrong?"

✧ he's so cute. anyway, you shake your head. "no, why?" luocha sighs in relief before taking his hands off your cheeks. "i don't know i assumed something happened that made you question me with that.. question. thank the lord i didn't do anything."

✧ kissing his cheek, you sighed dramatically, "well actually something did happen.. a certain somebody hasn't given me any attention for the past couple of hours"

✧ luocha playfully rolls his eyes, "my fault, princess/prince" and that's how he ended up peppering and littering you with kisses all over your face and no, you couldn't escape him even if you wanted to.

瓦尔特 welt

✧ if you keep asking him such questions he's only going to age more, physically, you're going to give him too many wrinkles if you keep on making him furrow his brows and frown.

✧ all you can hear is him heaving a great big sigh as he sets his mug down on the table, staring down at you. "the hottest person in the world?" he asks, you nod your head while smiling, you somewhat knew his answer already.

✧ "well it's you of course." he replied without any hesitation, you hummed and gave him a peck on his cheek. "right answer."

✧ "but why $10 only? you're worth more than that you know." he added, you only shrugged your shoulder. "i don't know it's what the text says" "the text?" "yeah, look!" you held your phone up and pointed at the screen where there was a couple, one of the partner asked a question—the same one you asked him.

✧ the other partner states that they would kiss the most hottest person in the world for $1000, it then showed a clip of the person sleeping on the couch. the answer was easy really, welt didn't understand how bad one person can mess something up.

✧ "well he was stupid, answer was easy." you agreed and put your phone away. "simple right? i knew you would say the right thing" you continued, welt only smiles in pride. "of course, i know what you want to hear, but i hope you know i would never kiss a random person, even if they were the hottest."

✧ your heart melts as he speaks, his words really sinking into you. "awwhh welt~" next thing he knows you're absolutely hugging the shit out of him (and rubbing your face in his chest), not that he minds.

桑博 sampo

✧ "well would you kiss me for $10 or kiss the hottest person in the world for $1000?" sampo repeated your own question back in a somewhat sassy tone. you were a bit shocked to say the least, i mean, how dare he not answer your question but answer your question with the same exact question!! (same energy ykyk)

✧ but obviously, you're used to his antics as you roll your eyes playfully, closing your phone. "seriously, shampoo. answer the question." "woah woah—shampoo? i said to call me anything but that!" he whines as he uses his hands to talk (as usual), very much exaggerating everything.

✧ you shrug your shoulders with an unamused "hmph" and don't reply any futhur. sampo dramatically sighs in defeat. "but babes, if you really think about it $1000 is a lot of money.." you raise your brow at his answer. "you're only thinking about the money?"

✧ sampo shakes his head, he grabs a hold of your hands while looking at you so sincerely it kind of scared you as he was always so... non-serious. "no, of course not. but just think about all the things i can buy for you...and me...food, flowers, more food, clothes and so much more! wouldn't you want all of that?"

✧ you think about it for a second and replied, "well although those are nice, wouldn't you much rather kiss me instead for $10? we can.. still buy something with $10, plus my kiss is unlike any other!"

✧ "yeah, i know." sampo snickers, upon his reply you narrow your eyes at him, your unamused face screamed "what do you mean by that?" in a menacing type of way. sampo quickly clears his throat before you could get any ideas (you had already gotten a few).

✧ "what i'm tryna say is that yes, i would rather kiss you for $10 but.. i think—" you immediately cut him off with a solemn face. "sh. i don't want to hear anymore of you." sampo can see that you're visibly upset at his answer. shit. he didn't mean to say the wrong thing.

✧ his grip on your hand tightened as he moved in closer to you. "no, wait babe i didn't mean that. i was just playin' i promise i would rather kiss you, your kisses are a one in a billion and i really don't care about the money and—" once again, you cut him off, but for a good reason this time.

✧ you giggle softly and shush him up with your index finger pressed up against his soft lips. "i know what you mean sampo, don't go on a big rant now you aren't in trouble." a clear sigh could be heard from sampo. "thank the stars.."

✧ " but babe! you haven't even answered my question." you gawk at sampo. "... oh well..."

✧ and now it was your turn to tease him, be prepared for a pestering and probing sampo!

卢卡 luka

✧ luka is quite stunned at first because for one, the question was out of nowhere, and two, WHAT DID HE DO THAT MADE YOU QUESTION HIM (you have a habit of asking him random questions out of nowhere)

✧ "did i do something wrong?!" is the first thing he says, he says it like it's urgent it caught you off-guard. you shake your head no and chuckle. "no, why? it's just a question don't worry."

✧ as you both were beside each other, sitting down on your couch, luka leans in closer to you where his nose is just barely touching yours. "well.." he whispers before giving you a long and tender kiss on your lips, it was soft and delicate, it wasn't intense or hot—just simple.

✧ "you, obviously." he begins as he pulled away slowly, his deep, sparkling blue eyes staring down at yours so softly and genuinely. "plus in my eyes you're the most prettiest person in the entire world, actually—no, in the universe!" the way he beamed at you as he spoke his words made your heart flutter. he was so sweet.

✧ luka's sweetness and innocence of a child (not quite literally) never failed to make you tear up, his charisma and optimistic personality pulled you in. but back to the moment. "awww luka you're too sweet ☹️" your cute lil pout made luka's head jump out of his chest and right back in, you were all too adorable.

✧ "oh you know it's nothing.. just stating the facts!" he chuckles, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him where your hips touched each other.

✧ luka rested his head on top of yours, his chest heaving up and down calmly. "wait, so you would kiss me even if you only got $10 other than $1000?" you asked, not bothering to move your body to face him.

✧ "yup! i would still kiss you for free too, money or not. if you still don't believe me.." luka lifted his head off yours as he faced you, you mirrored his actions and turned to face him. "hm?"

✧ luka began to kiss your face, first your cheeks, then it was your nose, then your forehead and finally, you're lips. this time he pressed his lips onto yours for longer as he used his left hand to cup your cheek. everything about this moment was wonderful.

✧ when he finally lets go, you both are left breathless and yet still yearning for more. "do you believe me now?"

银枝 argenti

✧ argenti is quick with his response, catching you off-guard. he was just standing out in the public (well more like posing to you and other people as he always looks like he's a model posing for his pictures) when you came running to him with your phone in hand, looking quite excited. which got him excited as well.

✧ but despite the silliness of the question he quickly answers your question with no hesitation. "why, you of course. i would kiss you any day, anytime and anywhere." he spoke with such sincerity and calmness it instantly made you fold. his soft and luminous grey eyes boring into yours.

✧ argenti moves in closer to you where his chest is looming over you. but even if he was taller than you, you were quite used to him doing that so you weren't afraid at all. "why do you ask?" you shake your head and smile up at him, happy with his answer. "nothing special!!"

✧ argenti stays silent for a couple of seconds before cupping your cheeks with his hands, your hands reaching to hold his with yours, the cold, hard metallic texture. you stare up at him, confused, but don't speak. you wait for him to do whatever he needed to do.

✧ before you knew it he had leaned down, his lips barely touching yours, his hooded eyes staring down at your lips. a kiss. his lips were so warm and soft, they did not part whatsoever, it was just soft, slow, gentle and sensual kiss. his lips were softly pressed against yours for a good hot second when he gradually pulled away, the tingling and exciting sensation still lingered on your lips.

✧ when both of your lips parted, it seemed like you two had forgotten that you were out in public, unaware of the many stares that were coming your way (i mean can you blame them? they are witnessing a very gorgeous couple passionately kissing. but not in that way.)

✧ after argenti pulled away and observed your face for any signs of discomfort the corners of his lips began to pull up after seeing you smile shyly. you were so adorable. "and that would be $1010." he whispered, gently pinching your cheeks.

✧ a cheerful and tender grin grows on your face at his words. but before you could utter a word or sound your eyes land upon a rose being held right in front of you by argenti. his signature rose.

✧ "a freshly picked flower for you, my rose." he breathed, his other hand pressed against his chest as he slightly bows. what a gentlemen he is. you smile in embarrassment before gratefully take his flower and slightly bowing before thanking him and smelling the rose. "thank you so much! it's breathtaking...."

✧ "just like you."

真理医生 dr. ratio

✧ "be completely and utterly serious with me with me right now." you added, using big words to really make him think about it. not like he ever does (he's always thinking logically).

✧ ratio sighs, yes, he gave you that sigh. "what? don't give me that sigh. just tell me your answer and then go on with your life again!" you said, doing your sigh this time. ratio is clearly and visibly thinking about his answer.

✧ "wow. are you really thinking about your answer?" you spoke, raising your brow in complete confusion. ratio shoots you a stare and shakes his head. "yes, really, but the answer is simple, you." although his answer was what you wanted to hear you wanted to know why. i mean, he was your boyfriend after all but still.

✧ "i thought you said you would let me go on with my life after answering your non-sensical question." he replied bluntly, cocking his head to the side. you mumbler under your breath as he was right. "yes well just one more thing, please?" and of course, he could never say no to you.

✧ "simply because i love you. i don't need to kiss anybody, especially a random stranger that is quote-on-quote, extremely attractive, for $1000 or more. even if somebody offered me a million i wouldn't take it, simply because they are not you. your kisses are different and have a different feel compared to theirs. and i am 100% positive that their lips are probably not the best unlike yours. not only that but it would be completely unreal for me to meet someone extremely attractive in the world as nobody is. but to me, you are the most wonderful and amazing person i have ever met. and not only that but—"

✧ you roll your eyes playfully before shushing him up with a finger pressed up against his lips. "okay okay i get it smarty pants" you giggled, removing your finger from his lips. ratio only grinned upon your words.

✧ "hm, well that's a good response. you're the best!" you beamed before kissing his temple and pulling away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

✧ as you were about to walk away you stopped in your tracks, causing him to stop what he was doing and looking your way. you turned around, facing him. "did you mean everything you said?" you questioned softly. the corners of ratio's lips curled up. "of course, i promise."

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another note: second hsr post YAY I HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY THIS

[bluublu-blub]

yan! ex husband (pt. 2)

was supposed to write something on Wednesday but i was still sick. i think i have the worst luck since june came but i am feeling a lot better now. i was almost sent to the hospital but it's a good thing, i wasn't. here is the update for you guys, sorry for the long wait.

He's crazy. 

You looked as he gripped on the divorce papers with so much ferocity that you had ever seen him. He's diligently and quickly reading the fine print as his hands shake from gripping on it. It feels as though you are watching a man descend to madness.

It made you step back away from him.

Then, the paper falls from his grip.

You took one step back further.

"I..." He started. "No... Why?" Now, he is staring at you like you had wronged him when he is the one who left you hanging for years!

"Just sign it." 

"No!" He looked at you with pleading eyes. "I can still fix this. What do I need to do? Do I need to earn more? Spend money on you? What should I do?"

You took a deep breath before looking at him with cold eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing...?" He repeated softly.

"I don't need anything from you." You stated. "Just sign it."

"But... I..." He looked down at the paper, tears slowly filling up in his eyes. 

You gave him a little push as you bent down in front of him, giving him the pen and pushing the divorce papers in his face. "C'mon, sign this as a last token of your appreciation for me." 

Holding his shaking hand towards the paper, you gave him a smile as he stared at you through his tears. "I..."

"If you still have love left inside your heart, sign the paper."

That was the last time you ever saw him. As soon as he signed his signature, you dropped your smile and left him. Not before telling him your parting words.

"We shouldn't have wasted our time together." You didn't turn back to look at him. "Especially when you only think for yourself."

It's over.

He repeated those words in his mind again and again as he was left hanging at your shared apartment. The pen that he used to sign your divorce paper was left forgotten in the ground. He could only stare emotionless at the wall as he slowly processed what had happened to him.

It's over.

He had arrived at home from his residency. Early for change and excited to rest and spend time with you. He's eager to try your cooking after years of hospital food. 

It's over.

He could hear his own breathing.

He could still feel the tears in his face.

He could barely move.

He could remember your face for the last time.

It's over.

Time must've passed by, the window no longer emitted the light from the sun but he still remain on his place as he thought back on how could he fucked up.

He didn't cheat.

He didn't do anything wrong.

He is always there for you.

There's no reason for divorce.

It's over.

He doesn't know what day it is. But, he had managed to find strength to move and go to work because you wouldn't want a useless husband, right? 

This… this will pass. 

You will be back and everything will be okay.

It's not over yet.

He doesn't really remember what actually happened. He looked at the spot next to his side of the bed, wondering when you would be home. He shrugged, laying on his side as he hugged your pillow to make up for your lack of presence. 

(He also doesn't remember when was the last time you two had a date.)

(He also doesn't remember when it was your birthday and your anniversary.)

(He also doesn't remember what your job is.)

(He also doesn't remember your favorite music as of late.)

(He doesn't remember if you bought a new book and a new plushie.)

(He doesn't remember what your current comfort food.)

He went to sleep, not remembering a thing.

It hits him that you weren't coming back when he saw you at a cafe in a different part of the country. He was at a seminar when caught wind of you and almost called your name when he saw you with another person.

So, he watched you in the distance as he greedily tried to memorize your current appearance. 

Then, he remembered. 

Suddenly, he felt he was in your shared apartment again —on the floor, crying for you. 

He remembered that you weren't coming back to him. 

That's fine. 

He continued to observe you. The lease for your shared apartment is expiring soon, he had already bought a house for the both of you. It will not trouble him trying to talk sense to you. He won't be an absent husband —he changed, he will take care of you now. He learned his lessons.

It's time for you to go back to him, please.

He followed you when you parted ways with your little friend. He will take care of that guy later but he needs to take care of you first.

Lovingly.

He slowly and cautiously walked towards you. Appearing harmless to you with a smile and a wave.

“Hey,” he greeted you. 

He soaked up all of your attention as your eyes widened in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You glared at him.

He put his arms up as if to show you he means no harm. “I have a seminar in this area.” 

You glared more.

“I was surprised to see you so I figured I could go and say my greetings to you.”

“Well you already did,” you snapped back at him. “Leave.”

“Let’s catch up first, darling.” He purred. “I have words to say to you.”

“Leave.”

“Don't be heartless.” He quipped. “It reminded me of the time you forced me to sign out divorce papers.”

You are always smart, aren't you? He chuckled as he watched your expression drop into nervousness while still staring at him with such intense eyes.

But, he knows you.

You wouldn't dare cause a scene in public.

“Fine. I am picking where we are going.”

He smiled even wider when you scoffed at him.

So cute.

He would not let you go now.

i wished i have managed to captured the essence of the descend to insanity and mc's personality. mc isn't a good person and neither is yan! ex for that matter but that makes them human in a way —and i wanna try and capture that feeling. in a way, mc was passive during their relationship together and yan! ex was too complacent that he could fucked up and mc would accept him either way. but, that's not how it works out for him and he's in denial for that. one could argue that they could've talk and communicate with each other —it will work out but mc needed to leave in order to grow. yan! ex just didn't get that nor does he want that.

[littlechivalry]

Steddie meet-ugly modern AU no Upside Down

-

Eddie has more than a few pet peeves but the main one is people blocking the sidewalk because they're on the phone. It's inconsiderate and shitty

The guy he's approaching is a prime specimen. Head completely down and walking full speed with no regard for what or who might be sharing the sidewalk.

So Eddie plants his feet. Its a dick move, he knows, but he figures when the guy gets close enough he'll see Eddie and stop short. Maybe raise his head so Eddie can give him a dirty look before they both go back to their original paths.

It doesn't work like that.

The guy never looks up, plows directly into Eddie. Since Eddie was prepared he keeps his feet but the guy goes stumbling. His phone, knocked from his hands, hits the ground with a sharp crack.

Eddie lunges to catch the guy but that brings them both to the ground and an awkward collapse.

"Shit," the guy says, sniffling.

His voice is thick and wet and Eddie is starting to have a real bad feeling.

"Shit, I'm sorry," the guy says. "I wasn't looking where I'm going, 'm so stupid."

He finally looks up and his face is damp and red, hazel eyes welling up with tears.

Eddie is an asshole.

"Hey, no," he says, getting up and helping the guy to his feet. "Its my fault. I didn't realize I was in your way."

The guy stands up, waving away Eddie's help. "No, this is all me. God, this whole stupid day. Of course, of course this would happen."

He's looking at the ground again and Eddie hears the other man hiccup a sob before crouching to pick up his phone.

It's... Eddie's seen worse. But it's in bad shape.

The guy presses the power button but there's no response. Eddie watches him press it again. Then again. He shakes it and tries again.

Nothing.

"Yeah," the guy says. "Yeah. This is perfect. This is actually exactly what I needed."

Oh no, Eddie is the world's biggest asshole.

The guys moves over and takes a seat on the curb, setting his phone on the sidewalk next to him and pressing his face in his hands.

Eddie... doesn't know what to do.

So he sits down beside him.

"You don't need to be here," the guy says.

Eddie shrugs. "I don't have anywhere else to be and it's my fault your day went to shit." The first part is a lie, and Gareth is gonna be pissed if Eddie doesn't get going, but there's no way he can leave now.

The guy shakes his head and sighs, just one soft huff, before he leans back on his hands, tipping his face up. He's not crying anymore and the red flush has faded to pink around his eyes and high on his cheeks.

He turns to Eddie and smiles, chagrined and tired and beautiful, and Eddie... is sunk.

In the face of that expression Eddie has no other choice. "I knocked youdownonpurpose," he almost shouts into that smile. "I was being a jerk and you weren't looking. I didn't-- I didn't think you would fall. I just... I was an asshole."

And the guy... just... laughs.

Eddie doesn't know how to respond. He murnurs an apology. And the guy just laughs harder. Laughs until he's crying again.

"I'm gonna be honest," Eddie says. "I'm not sure what to do here. Are you okay? Is this, like, a breakdown?"

The laughter eventually fades into a few stuttering gasps.

Eddie pulls the bandana out of his pocket and offers it over. The guy takes it and mops at his streaming eyes, dries his face.

The guy turns to face Eddie. The mad light of laughter is gone but so are the tears. Now it's just... calm.

They're still on the curb in the middle of the city. People are passing by, cars and bicycles and other pedestrians. Noise and light and life all around them.

But this moment with this guy feels like...

When Eddie was a kid he was terrified of storms. It felt like every boom of thunder was the moment his home would come crashing around him, like rain would wash his family away, the lightning would burn them all down.

His mom didn't have any patience for him getting upset, more interested in her own nightmares than Eddie's and going to his dad would just make things worse. It wasn't until he moved in with Wayne that storms changed for him.

The first thunderstorm that came crashing down on their trailer sent Eddie screaming into the little hallway, pressing himself to the wall as the lights flickered overhead.

Wayne found him there, curled in a ball on the floor and immediately sat down beside him, gathering Eddie's gangling limbed form into his own lap and rocking him through his sobs until the storm was over.

Once it had passed Wayne carried Eddie out onto the grass in front of the trailer. Eddie remembers pressing his face into Wayne's flannel shirt, letting the soft worn fabric absorb his tears and all the time Wayne humming and swaying them side to side.

When Eddie was ready he looked up. He expected a field of devastation, trailers thrown around like kids toys, trees uprooted, fire and havoc.

But it was quiet. Calm. It felt like the world had just let out a big breath.

Eddie was back in that moment now. This guy had clearly been through a storm and now he was on the other side.

"You wanna get a coffee," Eddie hears himself say.

The guy smiles. "I, uh, I need to get my phone taken care of."

"We can do that first," Eddie says. "Its my fault anyway and i know a guy who can probably fix it."

"Yeah," the guy asks.

Eddie nods. "Yeah. Um... I'm Eddie. By the way."

The guy smiles again, something like the sunrise breaking out across his face. "I'm Steve."

[noyasmashing]

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄 ˖ ࣪ ∗ ❀

cw: pegging, hair pulling, crying, sub!kenma, gn!reader

a/n: draft from forverrrr ago but i have to post it in honor of the haikyu movie

He hated it. He despised sensation of sweat trickling down his body as his back arched to meet your thrusts. Kenma had always detested physical activity, which is precisely why you relished making him work for it, watching him bounce uselessly on your strap as you mocked the way his cock slapped against his stomach.

Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, and moans escaped his chapped lips. His voice came out as horse cries as your hands gripped his hips, rather harshly. “Apologize, Kozume,” you commanded sternly, looking up at him. He shook his head, his bottom lip trembling. Yet he continued bouncing on your lap, sloppily and uncoordinated, squirming under your grip.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” you mused, searching his face for any emotion. He refused to apologize, knowing any sort of speech would bring on the tears he hated. But you didn’t care about that now. Roughly, you flipped him onto all fours, now getting to see the breath taking sight of his ass. Despite his slurred protests, he arched his back, presenting his pulsating hole for you to use.

“P-put it back in,” he pleaded, wriggling his hips toward you for more friction. “Not until you apologize,” you replied, choosing to tease him by running your slick strap between his cheeks. His body felt hot, the tips of his ears reddened even with his face hidden. “’m sorry,” he whined into the pillow, but you clicked your tongue, unsatisfied with his weak apology.

“Louder,” you urged, knowing the volume he could actually reach. He hesitated, then looked at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as your stern glare conveyed everything. He stifled a moan as you teased him with a gentle thrust near his hole. “I-I’m sorry for being an ass, please [name], f-forgive me,” he forced out, trembling under your grip.

You hummed, pausing for a moment that felt like an eternity to Kenma before finally ramming your length back into his wet ring of muscles. He moaned in satisfaction, thinking he got what he wanted. But the pleasure soon turned to overstimulation as you continued pounding him roughly. Usually you would keep a slow pace, showering him in praise as he got adjusted to your girth. But this time was different. His hips tried to escape your merciless pace, but you quickly stopped him. A string of nervous gasps escaping his cracked lips.

“Where do you think you’re going? If you can’t apologize properly, I’ll make you wish you could.”

“It’s too much—it’s too much,” he whined, gripping the sheets below him in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Despite his words, you saw the way he looked back at you with his mouth agape, eyes half-lidded, his cock surely weeping on his abdomen.

“Touch yourself, baby,” you encouraged warmly, but he just shook his head. You sighed, trying to be nice, but he was being such a brat. Maybe he’d learn his lesson if you were rougher. Releasing one side of his hips, you reached up with your free hand to pull his hair.

He gasped sharply, then whimpered as you pulled back. His moans were no longer muffled, and he could hear the lewd sounds of skin slapping together more clearly now. It all added to his pleasure, and the coil in his stomach started to unwind. Even in his delirious state, he knew better than to come without asking. “C-can I…” You cut off his plea, already knowing what he was going to ask. “No, only good boys get to come when they ask.” He sobbed at that.

Covered in sweat, he couldn’t bring himself to protest. You tightened your grip on him, continuing to pound relentlessly. He was fully crying now, hands shaking as he resisted the urge to fist his cock. But he was so needy, pre-cum leaking uselessly from his tip. You could tell what he was thinking and smirked. “Go on, touch yourself, and I’ll let you come.” He looked back at you, wary of your leniency.

“You mean it?” he asked shyly. You nodded warmly. “When have I ever lied to you?” With that, his hand found its way to his puffy tip, small nervous strokes causing his whole body to shake with pleasure. Your grip on his hips lifted his lower half practically off the bed. He felt weak, coming without hesitation when a “go on” left your lips.

He moaned loudly, his voice cracking into the pillow as his milky white release sprayed onto himself and the sheets.

To his disappointment and pleasure, you didn’t stop. In fact, it felt like you sped up your thrusts, maintaining their rhythm without faltering.

“We can’t stop now. I have to make sure my baby learns his lesson.”