#and i hate all the triggers around being good and being quiet

[silentalltheseyearsnomore]

I simultaneously feel like I am functioning well, we've got this, look at us gooooo, it'll all be okay

And

The fucking world is ending and no one knows and no one is seeing (or caring) through the facade I have up again.

I simultaneously feel like no one fucking cares at all. Especially not S (therapist, child parts main attachment figure currently) or even L, MY main person (as an adult part).

And

S is literally doing SO MUCH for you outside her job title, and you have fucking shut down WhatsApp and ignored all messages from everyone else including L you complete lunatic how can anyone show care if you are running from it???

And I know it all makes sense on one level. Some of us ARE functioning so well through this crisis/mess/fucking stressful time. But some are so distraught and so lonely and so hurt and have no safe place to take their pain, to be held. Yes there's little bits and pieces. But not enough. Not even close. And we have to be so small even there. So quiet. Don't scare anyone away with the trauma. Be good. Do well. Don't need anything. Or you'll be even more hurt and alone. So it's just easier to ignore everyone and look fine because I know they can't give us what we need. Can anyone? Can I give it to myself?

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie III

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: oops, more slow burn

Warnings: I have a feeling you will all be requesting a much FASTER update. Angst, fluff, shitty ex-boyfriend, the usual. Some violence which could b triggering. Please be kind to your mind.

Summary: Harry hates Kael. To be fair, most everyone hates him.

“Did y’bring your skates?” Harry asked. He was taking shots into the net for about an hour and a half at the time she had arrived. She was just a little over half an hour early to their practice. He paused to skate over to her. She was putting water bottles into place, clipboards, and other things that her uncle needed for a successful practice. Once everything was where it was supposed to be, she took her camera and took a practice shot of the ice behind Harry littered with pucks.

She frowned and looked away at her camera using it to divert his attention ever so slightly. Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “They’re in my car...”

Her unease wasn’t lost on Harry. “Do y’want t’go get them and I’ll help y’for a bit before practice?” He asked, leaning on his stick propped against the board.

She shook her head. “No thank you.”

He tilted his head at her. “C’mon, Rookie. You’re not going t’learn if y’don’t try.”

She sighed. “It’s not that... it’s just...” she looked up at him. “I’m still pretty embarrassed about it and I don’t want to do it here in front of everyone and everyone try to help...” She explained. “Like Uncle Charlie will give his two cents and honestly, I’ll be overwhelmed and I’m already nervous about it. The whole team watching would be even worse.”

Harry hadn’t really thought of that. But he wished he had because that meant that he could have a private lesson with her. One-on-one time with her was easily his new favorite thing. It happened a little more frequently since the night he followed her home. When he brought the used skates to her, she ordered pizza, and they played several rounds of Cribbage together. On a morning off from practice, he happened to be going by her place (of course going out of his way to be nearby) he did yoga with her before ordering breakfast to be delivered to her. Evenings where she worked at Louis’ he placed himself at his regular table and smiled at her as she came and went from kitchen to fluttering around the room waiting on everyone.

But on game days, whether they were home or away, she stayed her distance. He suspected she knew about his habits and his hookups. Which made him feel bad in a way he hadn’t worried about in ages. Harry was very comfortable with his sexuality. He liked having sex. He enjoyed making someone else come and yeah, he enjoyed that aspect for himself too.

But since he met the pretty photographer, he didn’t like it as much. Didn’t find it nearly as satisfying. Even though he wanted to.

Harry had a pond out behind his house. A pond that was very frozen in this chilly winter air. She hadn’t been to his place yet. Her pretty being all over his house seemed like a brilliant idea. It made him want her more.

Harry never wanted a girl the way he wanted her. For him it was always a one-night stand at their place, so he had the freedom to leave. They knew what they signed up for. But she invaded every little part of his mind. Thoughts of camera flashes and smiles. His picture on her fridge. The picture she texted him of herself that he saved as her contact photo. Her wearing Niall’s jersey. The cookies she made for her neighbors. Her rundown car. Her piece of shit ex.

“Would y’want t’come t’my place? I’ve got a pond out back.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Harry,” she admitted. Her voice was quiet, but she made direct eye contact with him. She always did, even if the conversation was difficult.

He frowned. “Why?” He asked.

“Because... you’re... you.”

“What’s that mean?” His eyebrows pulled forward as he tried to think through her logic before she said it.

“It means...” she looked at the ceiling like the answer would appear there. “I am not going to be seen with you at your place when you’ve never brought a girl home.”

He blinked. “How do y’know that?” She shrugged but busied herself with her camera taking pictures of the bench. She took Harry’s gloves from him and put them in a specific place. He felt utterly annoyed when he realized why she might have known. The frustration came over him before he could stop it. “Did your stupid ex tell you ‘bout m’reputation or something? Is that it? S’why y’don’t let me in fully? Y’think m’a piece of shit too?” He asked quietly. It sounded a little too accusing. He didn’t mean to. But it was unfair. Plus, he thought they were friends. The kind of friends like he was with Niall.

Because honestly, Harry didn’t think he could be good enough for her. Maybe he was projecting what he felt. She deserved a good boyfriend who would be able to devote all his time to her. She didn’t deserve someone that got a crummy five months to be in a relationship who had to worry allthe time about him because he had never had a steady girlfriend before.

She brought the camera from her face down to rest against her stomach on the strap around her neck. Once more, she looked him straight on. It was intoxicating. Brave. Beautiful, of course, always.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit, Harry Styles,” she said very clearly.

He blinked. “You don’t?”

“Why would I think that? Because you sleep with women who clearly want to sleep with you? You’re entitled to whatever you want with whomever you want as long as they fully consent, Harry. I don’t really give a shit. I just refuse to date a hockey player because an actual piece of shit cheated on me for who knows how long which I did not consent to. It’s obvious you’re charming, talented, intelligent, and very handsome,” she paused briefly, took a deep breath. “Any girl would be lucky to have you, Harry Styles. I just won’t be her.”

She brought her camera back to her face. She seemed unaffected by his stunned expression. He swallowed and it felt like a rock was in his throat. “That was an awful lot of compliments, Bunny,” he hummed. She continued taking pictures, but Harry saw the way her cheeks turned another shade of red under his gaze. He leaned closer towards her. “You think m’handsome?” he teased.

“A blind person would know you’re handsome, Harry. Don’t be a dick about it.”

“Charming?”

“Are you getting off on this or something? Is your ego not big enough?”

“I just didn’t know you thought that ‘bout me. I thought y’jus’ kinda tolerated me and m’overbearing presence.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why would I hate you?”

“No reason.”

But he answered too quickly. It was the reason that hung in the air over and over. She turned from her camera and caught his gaze again. “You’re nothing like Kael, Harry. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that you were,” her voice was extremely gentle, like she was speaking to someone with a baby napping in the room. It made him feel all over. Every cell in his body vibrating with emotion.

The breath he released was more relieved than when he found out he was being drafted to the Chargers. Harry wanted her all over his house. Wanted her in his room and not even for sexual reasons. He just wanted to see her there after any game. Wanted her to wear his jersey. Teach her to skate better. Hang any of her photographs in his house like a museum paying tribute to her talent. More than that he wanted pictures of her in his house—so many pictures of her.

*

On nights when the team had curfew because of early morning practice or a game the next day, she did not of course. Harry broke curfew almost every single day after learning where she lived. He asked her to move in almost every time he followed her home ensuring she got home safely in her crappy car.

You shouldn’t break curfew. You’ll get a big fine. Marc and Michael keep an eye on my arrival.

It’s fine. I have the money.

Harry was territorial about her and especially her safety.

Look, I don’t want to be weird, but we’re friends... Evander said you... had plans tonight with someone...

Harry wanted to kill his teammate. Who? He tried for the funny remark so he wouldn’t lose his fucking mind at the thought of her thinking about his late night hook up.

You’re ridiculous.

Making sure you get home safe is more important than having an orgasm.

...

Sorry, FRIEND. Thought we could talk about orgasms.

R I D I C U L O U S

😇

Go puck yourself Harry.

God, you’re hilarious Rookie.

Good night, Harry. Thanks for worrying about me. It’s... actually kind of nice.

Yeah, of course. Good night, Rookie.

Harry didn’t have plans that night. Not unless pining over his coach’s niece in the privacy of his own bed was a plan.

*

Charlie was currently taking his anger out on the guys, which was extremely unfair because they had no idea it was because of her. She wished she could have been surprised. Instead, she quietly took pictures, feeling bad for their poor lungs. They were breathing hard and heavy as they struggled with the conditioning drill.

“Five minutes!” Charlie snarled.

They all collapsed on the ice in their spots. Players on the bench were slumped and moaning in pain and they were already on a rest. She glared at her uncle holding two six-pack water bottle carriers as she stepped onto the ice. She nearly slipped twice. Harry didn’t even move to help her, which meant they were in really tough shape.

“Thanks Sweetheart,” Asher heaved.

“Coach, is something wrong?” Niall asked, chugging his water. Off to the side of the rink Callie was throwing up into a trash can. A quiet ‘pussy’ came from an equally green-looking Lang. Only Niall could get away with asking because he was the nice one of the group. But even still, Uncle Charlie silenced him with a glare.

“He’s mad at me and taking it out on you,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry guys. Uncle Charlie, can you stop punishing all hockey players on my behalf?”

“Sweetheart, don’t,” he shook his head once paying no mind to the team that was half dead on the ice before him.

She sighed heavily. “You’re being mean, Uncle Charlie. It’s not their fault!”

“It’s the reputation they’ve given the game,” Coach Wheeler agreed.

“What reputation?”

“Uncle Charlie is mad he picked me up from my apartment. He’s not keen on where I live.”

“It looks like a meth lab.”

“My apartment is not a meth lab.”

“You have a drug dealer living on the first floor.”

“Michael is super nice! He watches my car and—”

“Jesus,” Niall murmured. “Sweetheart—”

“Don’t even bother, Horan. I tried everything. She is insistent, she doesn’t want a single hand out from anybody. Which is why you’re all paying the price. What kind of asshole makes someone as sweet as her—”

“Uncle Charlie, can we not air my relationship out in front of the whole team?”

“If we’re doing suicide sprints because of fucking Kael Crowe I want to be moved to the Lightning,” Callie groaned referring to the minor team affiliated with the Chargers. “What the hell, Coach!? Take it up with Crowe!”

Exhausted agreements resounded from the ground. “You all better treat women with respect. There is zero tolerance for it,” Coach Wheeler grumbled.

“Sweetheart, do something please,” Lang begged standing to where Callie was previously, vomiting promptly into the trash.

“Uncle Charlie, can you cut them a break? They didn’t cheat on me.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Asher moaned. “Permission to cross-check when we play him?”

“Permission granted,” Uncle Charlie shrugged.

“Jesus,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead. Harry was still breathing hard, but surprisingly didn’t say anything. She was certain he would have something to say about Kael or her stupid choice. Everyone seemed to.

“First one’ll be for you, Sweetheart. Second one’s for me,” Asher winked.

“Why’d he pick y’up?” Harry asked quietly. It was interesting, it was the first thing he said after all the time spent trying to remember how to breathe. It was like he already knew the answer. He also didn’t rat her out for knowing beforehand about where she lived. Although she suspected he knew the punishment would be far worse if Charlie found out that Harry knew where she lived and said nothing.

“Car wouldn’t start,” she shrugged handing him a bottle of water. “It’s a piece of shit, but it’s all I can afford,” she admitted quietly. The conversation was just for the two of them. “I’m on a budget,” she reminded him.

Harry liked how open she was with him. When she told him and Niall that she couldn’t skate and that she got nervous about it, it was vulnerable in a way he didn’t expect. He liked how she said she wouldn’t date him (even though it broke a piece of him) and still managed to compliment him. Each time she mentioned she wasn’t swimming in cash made him feel like she trusted him. He thought of her cold apartment, her used skates, and her broken down car.

It was a shame she wasn’t going to like him as much after her next comment.

“Coach, if I let her borrow one of my cars while hers is in the shop, can we call practice early? I’ll drive her to and from games. Won’t let her out of my sight until she’s safely in the building.”

“I’m not convinced it’s a safe building.”

“Jesus Christ, Sweetheart, where are you living?” Niall sighed.

When Coach said the name of the building and the street just into the bad side of town, everyone moaned again. She shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s the right price and no one bothers me. I use you all as a threat.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Callie groaned. “Coach, we’ll take shifts, anything. Make it stop,” he begged. Lang returned from throwing up in the trash can and took water from her.

“I don’t need shifts of you guys watching me,” she rolled her eyes. “No one bugs me, they know I work for the team and that I could have twenty scary hockey players there in a matter of minutes.”

Harry smirked. It was obvious he liked the sound of that. “Coach?” Harry prompted.

“Harry, I’m not taking your car, for God’s sake!”

“Oh you don’t have a choice, Sweetheart,” he snorted.

“Uncle Charlie! You’re not getting one of your players to babysit me!”

“Then you’re responsible for their lungs bursting.”

She pouted, glared at her uncle, and marched off the ice. Snagging her camera from the bench as she did. It was childish, petty, and made her look like an idiot, but she was too mad to care. Harry sighed. “Coach, she’s a grown woman... y’could have at least asked her if she was okay with that...” Harry reminded him. Charlie leveled Harry with a stare.

“She’s the best person I know,” Charlie explained. “That piece of shit Crowe never deserved her. It kills the whole family that she doesn’t see her own worth. We watched her take care of him and put her life on hold for him. She doesn’t let people take care of her. Maybe because she doesn’t know how,” he shrugged. “So if she needs tough love to do that, then so be it.”

Harry followed her off the ice. He walked slightly awkwardly on his skates but found her outside one of the offices sitting on a bench, putting her items away in her bag. “You’re not giving me your car,” she grumbled.

“Rookie,” he sighed.

“I don’t need you saving me! This is just like when you yelled at Kael.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “We’re friends, right?”

She glanced at him. “...yes,” she said tentatively.

“Y’know how y’always worry ‘bout me drinking water? Making sure I eat dinner? Texting me t’make sure I get home after following y’home?” She didn’t look at him and fiddled with the laces of her boots. “Y’can ignore me all you want, but s’what friends do. We care ‘bout you and want t’do all the nice things y’do for us.”

It looked like she was piecing together what he was saying. But not fully wanting to accept it. “You’re really going to let me borrow your car?”

He smiled.

“I guess I could... have a skating lesson... assuming your car is at your house?”

Somehow, he managed to smile wider. “Yeah, Rookie? Great... I’ll go change and tell Coach. Be out in a minute.”

“Don’t be weird about it, Harry. I don’t want anyone to think you’re my favorite. Because you’re not.”

He chuckled. “Sure thing, Rookie.”

*

Harry hurried to her side of the car and opened the door when they arrived at his house. She grabbed her stuff from the back—it was everything she had to pull out of her car and toss into her uncle’s when he picked her up. Harry grabbed his duffle bag, as well as a small bag of groceries of items she needed to make the hot chocolate she promised after the skating lesson. “M’gonna put this stuff away and sharpen your skates,” he said holding the pair by the laces tied together as he opened the door. “Here’s the key if y’want t’throw your stuff in the car,” he grabbed it off the hook near the doorway and then headed further into the house. With the key in hand, she headed back outside and unlocked an extravagant car she would never be able to afford. Sighing, she put her stuff in the trunk, locked it, and headed back toward the equally luxurious house.

To be fair, it wasn’t a mansion. It was a nice home. It was clear Harry took great care of it—or paid people to take great care of it. Following the sound of something scraping against the blade, she found Harry in his kitchen, sitting on a breakfast bar stool at the island. The kitchen was stunning. Marble countertops, white backsplash, black hanging light fixtures, white cabinets with black hardware. There were green curtains in the window. The appliances were all black. It belonged in a magazine. It was practically pristine.

The only thing she found interesting was Harry’s sink was filled with dishes. The dishwasher looked clean, it was open and completely full as well. How many dishes did a person living by themself have? She spun the key on her finger as she approached him, setting it on the counter. “When’s your birthday?” He asked randomly.

“February eleventh,” she blinked.

Harry smiled that really beautiful way of his. The one that made the dips in his cheeks deepen. His eyes seemed brighter. “S’near mine.”

“I know.”

“You keeping track of me Rookie?” He was full-on beaming.

“No, but I added everyone’s birthday to my calendar after Ray’s. Figured I would make treats if I had the time,” she explained. “I remembered yours because it’s in February like mine.”

“Can’t y’jus’ let me believe y’like me?”

She ignored him. “How do you do it?” She asked pointing to the skate.

He held the little tool out to her—a little rectangle with a space for the blade to slide between. “They don’t sell skates unsharpened, even used ones. So they’re already pretty good, but I feel better doing it myself. I wouldn’t want t’put y’on skates I haven’t ensured were good to go,” he explained and waited until she lined up the blade with the tool. “Jus’ stroke the blade in the same direction a few times. You’ll feel a little resistance. S’how y’know it’s working. The duller the blade the more resistance you’ll feel.”

“Like this?” She asked making sure she didn’t mess up her new skates.

“Yup, that’s good,” he monitored the motion.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly.

“Course, Rookie. S’what friends are for,” he shrugged simply.

But it wasn’t that simple. Kael would never sharpen her skates for her. Wouldn’t even offer. It’s why she basically stopped skating—didn’t bother to continue because he didn’t care. He never asked if he could help teach her. There was no way he would willingly give his car to her either or offer to follow her home from a game. Most of the time they were at the same arena he didn’t go home with her. In case he wanted to go out with friends.

She felt the emotion building in her throat because she knew Harry had plenty of options. But she didn’t want to be an option. It wasn’t Harry’s fault. Honestly, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just wasn’t... the right time. She was too broken and fucked from her ex. Harry was too talented and charming to deal with a steady girlfriend and he shouldn’t have to. He was young, handsome, and had ample time in his career and life to have fun before he settled down.

“Ready?” He asked interrupting her sad thoughts. Harry was sweet—really sweet. The kind of sweet she always wanted Kael to be. She shook her head to rid herself of thoughts of how nice it would be to be Harry Styles’ girlfriend. It wasn’t going to happen. He replaced the guards on her blades. “Pond’s out back,” he told her gesturing to the back slider that led to a porch.

“Your house is beautiful,” she told him.

“Thanks, Rookie, love,” he smiled. “Mum was insistent it be my first investment,” he explained.

“Smart lady.”

“The very best,” he affirmed.

Nope, she wasn’t going to fall for a man who was kind and adored his mother. Not one bit.

The back deck overlooked a decent sized yard, but it was the pond that was by far the feature of it. She could picture beautiful sunsets, and she wished she brought her camera with her. There was a layer of light snow on the ground, the bare branches. It was like a Christmas movie scene. It left her a little breathless and Harry paid no attention to it. Totally used to the beauty of his own yard.

“Y’okay?” He asked over his shoulder. He noticed her pause as he continued walking toward the little pond. Harry kicked his boots off and put on his skates while sitting on a little wooden bench. They weren’t the pair he wore at the rink. These looked a little more worn in and scuffed. Well-loved, was the best description. He laced them quickly and expertly. It must have been second nature to him. With the guards still on his blades, he stood in front of her. “Put these on,” he handed her a pair of socks from his sweatshirt pocket. They weren’t the ones he bought her, which meant they were either his or another set he had bought her just for the occasion.

Nope. Not falling in love with him. Not at all.

“Your backyard is beautiful,” she said. “I wish I had my camera.” She untied her boots and stuck her feet in the skates. Almost immediately, Harry carefully hoisted her left skate between his thighs. He held her foot in her new-used skate (with the guard still in place) and tied the laces tightly.

“I can grab it after the lesson,” he offered and worked on the laces. “S’that feel good?” He asked. “Or is it too tight?”

“No, I don’t like my ankle to move.”

He chuckled. “Y’want it t’move a little, Rookie.”

She shrugged while he tied the other skate. Once done, he pulled the guards off and held his hands out for her to take. She took a deep breath and tried not to think about how large Harry’s hands were and wrapped around hers so easily. They were warm and comforting. He bent and took his own skate guards off. “I know y’can skate a little, so I don’t want t’push you,” he headed for the ice. “Jus’ do what feels comfortable.”

She barely skated at the rink. Skating on a pond seemed like a bad idea. Sitting on that little bench watching Harry? Maybe taking pictures of him as she did? That seemed like a good idea. Comfortable, to his point. “Is the pond deep?” She asked tentatively.

He frowned and waited at the very edge as she stood just off the ice. “Bunny,” he hummed gently. “I would never let y’get hurt, so no,” he promised. “S’not deep. S’very safe,” he assured her. “C’mon,” he held his hand out. Tentatively, she took it. Fortunately, she was used to him holding her elbow while she walked or skated around.

“Harry, I really don’t want to embarrass myself,” she warned.

“M’not going t’make fun of you, Bunny,” his voice didn’t have any teasing in it. Harry was dressed in a pair of black pants and a gray sweatshirt. He looked cozy and pretty as always. His voice was too soft and made her feel safe. Which wasn’t a bad thing except for her heart. “Jus’... take little steps. M’not going t’let you fall.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that it was too late for that.

She listened, taking small steps. Harry skated backwards while facing her, holding his hands out for comfort but not holding onto her. “You’re leaning too far forward, Rookie. Y’want t’keep your weight over your skates while y’step. S’going t’change a bit when y'take your steps but s’what you’re trying to maintain,” he explained. He watched her feet as she adjusted to what he said. “Don’t stare at your feet,” he offered kindly. “I know s’hard, but it’s tough on the balance,” they glided silently for a few minutes. “Y’okay,?” he asked glancing at her face. She nodded. He smiled gently. “Okay,” he took hold of her hands again and tugged her gently. “When y’stop, just tilt your foot inward just a little,” he used his own feet to demonstrate. “You’re doing great, Rookie,” he promised. “Feel easier on the figure skates?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely easier to balance.”

He grinned, excitement covering his features and all she had done was take fifteen little steps or so. “Okay let’s keep going. We’re jus’ going t’focus on keeping y’comfortable today. Getting used to the balance and stopping,” he continued facing her and skating backwards as he pulled her.

“How do you skate backwards?” She asked.

“You gotta walk before y’can run, Rookie,” he chuckled knowingly. She rolled her eyes.

“I meant you, Harry.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been skating m’whole life.”

“Since you were three and before you could walk?” Most every hockey player she knew had the same story. Skating was more important than walking. It was romantic in a way. A first love of sorts. Harry seemed no different in that respect.

He nodded with a shy grin. “Something like that.”

“You’re very graceful.”

“You’re so forthcoming with the compliments today, Bunny. S’nice,” he pulled her toward him. She wasn’t really skating since Harry was just guiding her, but it felt nice to be on the ice without fear of making a fool of herself. “Try stopping.”

“I’m supposed to be skating not stopping Harry.” He smirked and looked at her pointedly. So she executed her little stop and Harry’s smile brightened.

“Lovely, Rookie. Do you want t’try on your own?”

“Sure,” she sighed feeling defeated before starting but it was the only way she’d get better. Harry let go of her hands but stayed the same distance from her (which was no more than five inches away). She took little steps moving at a glacial pace. She really wondered how she could have been using the wrong skates for so long. It felt so much safer and easier to be on the figure skates than it ever had been on hockey skates.

“You’re doing great, Rookie,” he assured her. She felt embarrassed because she was in her late twenties and Harry was treating her like a child. Not his doing, though. It was in her head it felt that way.

But they skated for a while quietly, just listening to the gentle cutting of the blades on the ice. Harry put his hands out just in front of him as a gentle reminder he was there, letting her have the comfort of grabbing him if she needed.

Naturally, her toe hit a divot in the ice at that moment which made her lose her footing. Harry snagged around her waist quickly to keep her upright. “Whoops,” the entire front of his body was pressed to hers. “Y’okay?” She nodded, not wanting to think about how nice Harry was and how warm his body felt. She pulled away as quickly as she could once she regained her footing. “The ice doesn’t get resurfaced like the rink,” he admitted shyly. Like it was his fault.

“You don’t own a Zamboni?” She gaped. “I can’t believe it!”

He chuckled, moving away from her slightly. She couldn’t believe how much colder it felt even though he only held her for no more than forty seconds. “Do y’want t’keep skating?” He asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. Because honestly? She didn���t want to leave just yet.

*

Eventually, they got off his little ice rink. She didn’t fall thanks to Harry catching her two more times around the waist. Each time she sent an electric current right through her heart. He was gentle, kind, and encouraging. Imagining him doing the same thing with his baby niece made her ovaries ache so much she had to think about anything else.

“Did you have a dinner party?” she asked pointing to his sink.

“No,” he sighed. “I jus’ hate dishes,” he shook his head.

“Do you want—”

“Don’t you dare,” he glared at her and headed down the hall toward another room. She smiled and shook her head.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make hot chocolate with a mess in the sink,” she called.

“Don’t make it then!” He sounded far away. She couldn’t believe he stayed at her tiny little apartment when she could hardly hear him from a few rooms away. “We can go out t’get some or we y’can jus’ stuff from the dishwasher, Rookie. But don’t touch the sink!”

She rolled her eyes and shifted, through the clean dishes, pulling a sauce pan from it. Harry returned with a bag. “Can you get me chocolate chips, sugar, and cocoa powder? I don’t want to dig through your cabinets—what’s that?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Y’can go through the cabinets,” he shrugged. But it was starting to feel a little too domestic. Now they were at Harry’s house which meant she was done for. At least when they were at her place, she wasn’t subject to the overwhelmingly intoxicating scent of Harry. He found the ingredients and placed them on the counter. “Open it,” he shrugged.

It was a large bag from the pro shop at the arena. She peered in and then looked up at him. “Harry.”

“S’not a big deal, Rookie. Don’t make it a big deal,” he suggested. “What do y’need for whipped cream?”

Inside the bag were jerseys. Langford, Calloway, Asher, and Styles. Her heart felt too warm. Her eyes stung a bit over the thoughtfulness yet again. Skates, jerseys, socks. Harry was too sweet. He wasn’t fighting fair. “Sugar, vanilla, and heavy whipping cream...” she mumbled. Swallowing the emotion she felt, she opted for a joke. “No Horan?”

“He already got his turn,” he grumbled slightly bitter.

She looked at the jersey brushing her fingers over his last name. “It’s too much, Harry.”

“I get a discount,” he shrugged. “On behalf of the team, throw out all your Glacier Wolves stuff,” he grabbed the next set of ingredients and eyed her from across the kitchen island. “What?”

“Even the sweatshirt I’ve worn so much I’ve got it to maximum comfort?” He pressed his mouth into a line and stared at her pointedly. “Alright I’ll throw it out, you’re so bossy.”

He smirked and turned to the stove, turning the dial to light the burner. “Okay Rookie, time for my lesson. Show me how t’make hot chocolate.”

*

It felt like Harry was becoming her very best friend, which scared her. Kael took up so much of her life it left her very little room for friends. The friends she did have... ended up not liking her and talking behind her back. “Hey Rookie,” Harry smiled entering the locker room to drop his stuff for game day photos. “Ugh,” he sighed looking at her jersey and the smile melted.

“Hi, Harry,” she waved with an impish grin.

“Hi Sweetheart,” Asher greeted. “You look beautiful today,” he cooed.

“Shut the fuck up, Asher!” Harry yelled from the other side of the door. Asher winked at her and headed inside the locker room.

“He’s so jealous,” Callie shook his head. She smiled, shook her head, but she could feel her cheeks heating up with color. “Nice jersey, Sweetheart!” He shouted, no doubt enjoying his number on her this time. Only she knew that Callie would be more extra about it than Niall ever could be.

“You can shut the fuck up too,” Harry growled from near the door.

“He must not think I look beautiful,” she laughed quietly.

“Oh Jesus,” Lang snorted filing inside.

“What did she say?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Lang chuckled.

“Those are fighting words, Sweetheart,” Niall chuckled heading in after his team.

After the game day pictures were posted to the appropriate social media outlets, she headed inside the arena. She filed down to her spot near the other media. She smiled and waved to people she had been chatting with regularly. They all greeted her as if she was a real media presence and not just the coach’s niece with a camera.

She took a few pictures of the empty ice adding it to her mental portfolio of this sports series she was looking to do. It was peaceful for a moment, the images forming in sequence, her ideal lighting. The way everything would come together to tell a story. It was something she was really excited about—

“Hey, baby.”

She didn’t turn immediately. Surely, she misheard. Her body felt a wave of anxiety run over it. She didn’t flinch, didn’t turn. For several seconds, she focused on her breathing and nothing else. A minute. She just needed a minute to collect herself. Turning slowly, she smiled politely.

“Kael.” His feet were on top of the seat in front of him. Some of his teammates were milling behind, a few rows back of him. He looked relaxed and uncaring of how fucked up it was that he was there. Coming up to her while she was alone. “You guys are in town early,” she stated.

He nodded, standing up and heading to her. She busied herself by inspecting her pictures making sure they looked okay on the screen. Her hands were shaking. Not because she was worried about what Kael might do but because she was angry. Kael was her least favorite person and he made her uneasy because of all the fucked-up things she let him do to her. “Nice jersey. Sleeping with Calloway?” He asked, sweeping his hand across the top of her back. It made her want to crawl out of her skin.

“No,” she clenched her jaw. She wanted to leave as little to the conversation as possible. But she couldn’t. Because Kael didn’t own any part of her privacy anymore. Part of her wished she was sleeping with Callie if only to rub it in his face. But she couldn’t pretend that any more than she could say she didn’t have a crush on Harry. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Right, sure...” he smiled slowly. “You look beautiful, baby. Even in an ugly jersey.”

She loved this jersey so much. The only jersey she would love to wear more than Callie’s, was Harry’s. Not that she would ever say that. “What can I say, orange and blue just wasn’t my color,” she shrugged. “And Kael? Stop calling me baby.”

He put his hands up. “Just wanted to say hi... I’m in the area today... tomorrow and the following day, too... thought you might want to catch up.”

“Sweetheart!” Uncle Charlie called.

She turned looking at her uncle, Ray, Callie, Niall, and a couple of the younger players staring at her from across the ice. “That’s my cue,” she said making her way back the way she came.

“You work for the team?” He asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yup.”

“Good old Uncle Charlie helped you out?” He wondered.

“Uh-huh.”

She walked around the edge of the ice noting every pair of eyes of The Chargers following her.

Kael followed her as well. “Do you want to get dinner, love?” He asked.

“I have to work tonight; thanks though,” she said over her shoulder wishing she could have cut across the ice. It would have been nice if she could have shown him that she could skate a bit now.

No thanks to him.

“What about tomorrow after the game?”

“Working again,” she shrugged.

“Lunch?”

“Busy.”

She was much closer now to her uncle and the guys. Their gazes felt warm on her, so she looked at her camera as she walked.

“C’mon, baby. You’re the one that wanted to talk.”

“To get my stuff back, Kael,” she sighed without looking at him. God she wanted to be done with the conversation. Why couldn’t he take a hint?

“Technically it’s my stuff.”

Ugh. That would do it. She spun on her heel. He was right behind her so now they stood only inches apart. This was the guy she seriously saw herself marrying because they had been together for so long. She was going to have children with him. So many days and nights spent at his arena wearing ugly orange and blue. Taking care of his every need and not asking for anything in return. All the other things that she didn’t even want to think about let alone speak into existence. Putting her life on hold for him because he deemed himself more important than her hobby. Now, he was going to continue holding her stuff hostage? Just for some weird power trip?

No. Not anymore.

“I don’t want anything you bought me, Kael,” her tone was biting. Teeth clenched. “I want my stuff back.”

He snorted. “Then go to lunch with me, baby,” he grinned sweetly.

“Hey Kael, we need her for pre-game pictures,” Charlie came up behind her putting a hand on her shoulder gently. She shrugged it off, she was independent, goddammit. She didn’t need her uncle or a hockey team to defend her in front of Kael. He already thought she was weak. She didn’t need to prove him right.

“I am not negotiating for my stuff,” she told him, her tone still angry.

“Sweetheart,” Charlie grabbed her shoulder a little more securely.

“Hey Charlie, sorry. Just trying to catch up with our girl here,” he smiled charmingly at her uncle. She rolled her eyes and marched around Charlie, toward the tunnel back to the locker room. “Tell Callie he’s a lucky man, baby,” he shouted.

“Fuck you Crowe!” Callie was immediately moving toward him as she pushed past. “You’re a piece of trash!”

“Hey!” Ray yelled. The other players yanked him back and away from one person who could fuck up the simplest of things with just a couple words. Kael smiled walking back the way he came. Like he didn’t cause a scene or anything.

*

Callie got three penalties in the first period. Lang had to talk him down because he wanted four. But that would have been bad for the team, and they weren’t even playing Kael.

Harry was fuming, bouncing his knee as he sat seated in front of his locker. “I hate that stupid prick,” Callie growled. She was seated on a chair outside the locker room looking at her camera. It didn’t seem to bother her much that Kael was around. Or maybe she was just continuing to be brave. It was kind of hot the way she stood up to him outside the ice rink. He wished he had known. He would have loved to have punched Kael. He was lucky Harry didn’t hear until he heard Callie yelling.

They lost the game one to nothing. No one blamed Callie because the goal wasn’t even during his penalties nor when he was on the ice. “I can’t wait for the game tomorrow,” Asher sighed. “Still allowed to cross-check?” He asked looking at Charlie and Ray.

Ray shrugged. “If you must.”

Harry wanted to strangle him. The moment he heard one of the younger players say Crowe’s name, he wanted to run to her, shove her behind him, and punch his stupid fucking face. “Harry?” Niall asked quietly from beside him.

“Yeah?”

“You good?” He asked.

“Yup,” he nodded.

“Look, he’s just trying to get a rise out of her,” he explained. “Maybe you.”

“He doesn’t know I like her,” he mumbled.

“You do like her?” Niall chuckled. “I knew it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Everyone decent?” Her voice called.

Harry perked up hearing the voice of the sweet girl he was falling for rapidly by the second. She entered holding a hand over her eyes. “You’re good, Sweetheart,” Lang assured her.

“Bummer,” she muttered dropping her hand. Harry smirked despite how mad he was as a quiet chuckle sounded throughout the room.

“Gross, Sweetheart. They’re my players,” Charlie shook his head.

“Well, you and I have the same taste in men then, Uncle Charlie.”

Another round of laughter. “You okay?” Charlie asked leaning against his office door.

Harry was staring, Niall beside him staring as well. The whole team was watching to be fair. “Yeah... he was just... hovering, signing autographs and stuff...”

“Fuck him,” Callie growled. She glanced at him briefly. Harry wanted to kill him for getting her attention today in the form of his jersey on her. It shouldn’t have been such a concern for Harry, but it was. He liked her so much and it was so unfair he wasn’t good enough for her. At least he was the one that bought the jersey for her.

“It’s not a big deal,” she shrugged looking anywhere but someone else’s eyes.

But it was a big deal, Harry was fuming in his seat. His leg still bouncing.

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head.

“Sweetheart, if—”

“Can someone walk me to my car?” She asked.

“I can!” Callie chirped.

She frowned. “Callie, really, any other day. But... with the jersey—”

He frowned. “I hate Crowe.”

“Join the club,” Charlie said.

She sighed. “I’ll walk you out,” Harry quickly tossed a sweatshirt over his practice shirt and a pair of sweats on over his compression shorts.

They didn’t speak as they walked to her car. Harry’s car. She put her belongings in the back seat. “I took the night off. I’m pretty exhausted,” she told Harry leaning against the driver door. “So you don’t have to worry about me.”

But he did. Because it seemed to be the only thing he did. “Oh. S’nice,” he murmured. “Are you… do y’want company or are y’jus’ going t’bed?”

“Probably just bed,” her voice was tired. “Maybe Marc and I will watch a game so he can study.”

At least there was one man in her life he didn’t have to be jealous of. “Well, we have an early curfew anyway,” he mumbled. “Do y’want me t’follow y’home?”

She shook her head. “No. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Rookie,” he gave her arm a squeeze. “Let me know when you’re home,” Harry ushered her into the car and let her go on her way. He headed back for the arena feeling fairly defeated. But at least she was safe.

*

Eliana lived close by and expected very little of Harry. She was a nice person. She was a nurse at a local hospital and had hours that lined up with Harry’s every so often.

Harry was a fucking mess.

“Are you okay?” She asked

No. He wasn’t. He wanted the pretty photographer. Wanted to know she was home safe. Wanted to go to her apartment and wake Michael and Marc up and murder them for not protecting her when they said they would. Even though she was in all reality probably fine.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “It’s not you.”

She smirked. “I didn’t think so, Harry. I hope you’re alright.”

 “Jury’s out.”

She rolled her eyes, pulled the covers up to her neck. “Just lock behind you please.”

Harry tried calling her. Not even caring how ridiculous he was. He was past the point of caring. He couldn’t even sleep with someone else, and he’d done nothing more than hold her hands or her elbow. He refrained from cuddling her at their sleepover beyond feeling the heat of her body while she slept.

Harry had called her every hour since he walked her to her car. Hopefully she was just asleep. She did say she was exhausted. Maybe if he drove by and saw her car, he would feel better?

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. He couldn’t follow her like that. It was different that first time. He never intended to follow her into her apartment building. His rationality left him because he was so worried about her. Now that he was okay with her living arrangement, he didn’t want to look insane.

A drink. One drink and he would be home by curfew. Something to take the edge off. Make him forget about his worry.

Harry parked in the first available spot at The Locker Room. He waved to the regulars, said hello to some fans, and headed to his usual table. Force of habit. “Hey Harry,” Louis smiled bringing Harry a drink. “Didn’t know you were coming in; she figured you had curfew.”

He tilted his head at Louis, his thumb pausing on her name in his message threads once more. “Hmm?” He hummed. “She’s... here?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Louis pouted slightly. “She’s been here since five,” he hummed like it was obvious.

“Hey, Louis!” She called from the other room. Her voice hitching slightly in alarm.

Why would she lie? Louis raced to the other room. Harry followed quickly because the apprehension in her voice was enough to bring all his worry immediately back to the forefront of his mind and he expected the worst truly. Because she didn’t seem to be very scared of anything. She lived in a seedy part of town and worked with violent hockey players.

So what could be in the main room that would make her sound so worried? A drunk guy who was getting into it with another person? A handsy guy who thought she was pretty? A girl who didn’t like her decision to cut her off?

None of his thoughts had considered it might be Kael. Who had her wrist pinned to the top of a table, his hand wrapped tightly around it keeping her in place.

Harry’s vision turned red.

She gaped meeting Harry’s gaze. “Oh fuck,” she whispered.

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[lieslab]

I'm stuck with a phobia

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Summary: You're struggling with your anxiety when your boyfriend comforts you.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 5.3K

Anxiety resources

Trigger warning: General anxiety, testing anxiety, anxiety surrounding hospitals and doctors/nurses, brief mention of insecurities, social anxiety, and over-stimulation.

A/N: To whoever requested this, you requested 3racha members specifically, but I didn't want to leave the other members out, so they're all here. Each scenario is different and most are based on different scenarios that can cause anxiety/anxiety attacks. Some of these are a little more serious than others, but I think you get the gist.

_ _ _

Chan: 

You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren’t in a constant state of anxiety. Anxiety always draped over your shoulders like a shawl you couldn't rip off. A suffocating scarf that grew tighter and tighter around your throat. 

Your heart bucked against your chest, a weak attempt at trying to dislodge from the anxiety in your body. It never worked. It tried and tried and tried, but your sternum was far too strong. 

Despite being there, you learned to live with it. You learned to try to ignore the heavy thumps and distract yourself with simplicities; anything to get away from the feeling of your soul being caged. Usually, you could distract yourself, but tonight was different. 

It uprooted from nowhere. A current of anxiety pulled you into the depths of your head and suddenly, still half-asleep in the middle of the night, the what-ifs were coming back. What if you weren’t good enough? What if you weren’t a great person? What if Chan’s love for you was all a lie? 

Beside you, Chan’s eyelashes cast shadows on his sleeping face. Soft lips pressed together and, for once in his life, that furrow of concentration didn’t hang in his brow. That grit of determination was gone. For tonight, he wasn't just a leader. He wasn’t a member; he wasn’t anything other than Chan, your boyfriend. 

You tried to be quiet as you shifted the blankets and attempted to leave the bed. The squeak of the bed frame and the dip of the bed stirred his sleep. Your name left his lips and a hand stretched out to touch you, but you were already standing up. 

“Baby?” His half-lidded eyes open. Darkness swarmed his vision and you froze. He blinked and blinked and blinked, trying to cast shapes to the shadows. “Baby?” 

“I’m right here,” you finally whispered. “Go back to sleep. It’s too early to get up.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To get a glass of water.” Your voice came out groggy and unconvincing. 

He reached up, rubbed his eyes, and his mouth stretched into a yawn. “What are you really doing?” 

“I’m anxious and I can’t sleep. It’s never ending and I’ve been trying to sleep, but over the past few hours, I kept waking up. I’m not sure what it is, but it won’t go away. Go back to sleep, I’m going to-” 

His arms stretched out in your direction. A silent and simple command, come here. You hesitated and didn’t budge from your spot. “You should go back to sleep. Seriously, Chan, you have to be up early tomorrow.” 

“You either get in my arms or I follow you to the couch.” 

He was so stubborn. You didn’t know if it made you hate him or love him. So stubborn, so determined, such a pain in your ass. A constant nag and a forever reminder that you weren’t alone. 

You sighed, stepped back, and crawled back into the bed. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and pulled you closer. The scent of his body wash was faint, but the woodsy masculine scent still lingered. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You let your eyes fall and sighed again. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head before softly beginning to sing. The worry in your heart melted away instantly. You began to relax and let his sleepy voice lull you back to sleep. 

Dating a singer had more perks than you’d like to admit. 

_ _ _ 

Minho: 

“What is wrong with you?” Minho asked. 

The two of you were sitting in his living room and watching a movie. Halfway through, you shifted in your chair and became fidgety. You shrugged and waved him off, not wanting to distract him. 

His eyes narrowed at you, but he didn’t prod. Knowing you, you probably just needed to adjust your spot or something. You were never great at sitting still for long periods of time. After a few more minutes, you shifted again. Your nails curled into your palms and the sharp edges bit into your skin. 

You shifted to comfort yourself a few seconds later. When your knee started bouncing, Minho grabbed the television remote and paused the screen. “What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t do that. Your thing-” He gestured towards you. “You’re anxious or something. Your knee is bouncing and you can’t sit still. Why are you anxious?” 

“Because I’ve never seen this movie and what if my favorite character dies?” You slumped back in the seat with a frown. “Don’t you have a heart? How are you not anxious about this?” 

“So anxious, to where you can’t stop moving?” 

Your hand went up in defeat. “I can’t help it! I’m always like this when I don’t know the ending of a movie. I’m trying not to look up how it ends, but I want to. I can't stand the suspense!” 

“Hold on.” 

You watched as Minho slid across the hardwood floor and disappeared into the kitchen. Upon his return, he presented you with Dori's familiar black and brown coating. His feet dangled helplessly as Minho approached. 

“Have a cat.” 

“What is-” 

“Hold on.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, but you grabbed Dori anyway. You shifted, trying to keep him comfortable. Small paws pressed into your lower stomach. He tried to pull away from you to lie on your thighs. 

Your head poked up at the sound of incoming footsteps. When you looked up, an unhappy Soonie glared at you. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “What is this?” 

“Have a cat.” 

“Minho, this is-” 

“Wait.” 

You tried not to laugh as he disappeared again. Dori shifted and Soonie’s head went back with a loud meow of distress. You reached up and gently patted his head, trying to calm him down. 

Footsteps patted your way for a final time and when you looked up, the sleepy eyes of Doongie were staring back, full of obvious annoyance. Minho pressed him further, nearly pushing into your nose. “Here, have a cat.” 

You let him place Doongie on your chest. He reached out and used a finger to tap the top of each of their heads. “One cat, two cats, three cats, and-” 

You glanced up and, to your surprise, he tapped the tip of your nose. “Four cats.” 

“I’m not a cat!” 

“Four cats.” 

You grumbled and complained, your anxiety long forgotten about. Doongie shifted, nearly falling off your chest. You quickly grabbed him and leaned back so he wouldn’t roll. “There are too many cats in my lap.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

You opened your mouth to bicker, but your words halted. Minho shifted Dori and Soonie, so he could squirm into your lap with them. Your eyes widened as he sat across your lap. “What are you-” 

“Five cats.” 

“Lee Minho!” 

“Sorry, I only speak cat.” He picked up Dori’s paw and waved it in your direction. Garbled meows in various pitches fell from his lips. All you could do was stare at him blankly as he took Dori’s paw and gently booped your nose with it. 

Clearly, growing up as an only child with three cats has drastic effects on the human psyche. 

_ _ _ 

Changbin: 

You decided when you were a kid that quizzes were your worst enemy. Ever since you were in elementary school and colorful motivational posters plastered the walls, you knew you’d always hate tests. Tests. Quizzes. Finals. All of it. 

As you grew up and enrolled in college, things didn’t change. Your kitchen table was full of opened textbooks and sticky note reminders. Highlighters swept over topics in notebooks. A headache had been pulsing behind your left eye since you started. 

You were drowning in academics. Even worse, you were drowning alone. Changbin was out at a photoshoot and you were on your own until sometime late tonight. It was perfect in your head. You were two weeks away from finals and now you had plenty of time to study. 

You were trying your best. You did what you could, but the more you pressured yourself into studying more, the more the content wasn’t sticking. There was too much stuff for each subject and not enough space in your head. Everything you just spent two hours drilling into your frontal cortex; it was gone. 

You scanned the pages of the textbooks, reading the words, but never truly soaking them in. Words and words and words and words. Some are more complex than others, but it was all the same. You were so focused and anxious about forgetting and failing; it was the only thing taking up space in your head. 

You shoved everything away from you in a fit of rage. A textbook snapped shut and hit the floor with a loud thud. Your neatly stacked vocabulary cards that were in alphabetical order, they slipped over the edge too. The twenty minutes you spent organizing them were all for nothing. They scattered in every direction and brought tears to your eyes. 

Your face found your hands and that’s where they stayed. Elementary tests were far different from college tests. Twenty percent of these finals went to your final grades. Your final grades were important, especially in the classes you really struggled with. The difference between passing and failing was huge. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Changbin called out. “I’m home and I brought food! Have you eaten anything?” Footsteps echoed from the living room and moved closer. 

You didn’t bother looking up. On the verge of bursting into sobs, you stayed buried in your hands. Changbin’s eyes went to everything covering the table. “Woah! What’s all this?” 

He placed the plastic bag on the side of the counter and approached you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” A comforting hand found your shoulder. “Why are your note cards and textbook on the floor? Did something happen?” 

You pulled your face away from your hands with tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m stressed and anxious. As you can see, I’m trying to study, but nothing is sticking.” You sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Why are you home from the shoot early? Did something happen?” 

“No, we finished early. Apparently, we all behaved well and behaving means getting work done earlier. That’s not the point. Do you have tests coming up?” His fingers started at your crown and gently tugged back your hair. 

“Finals. They’re two weeks away and I could use the head start, but-” You gestured at the mess, “it’s not going so well.” 

“I can see that. How about-” He gently grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned your head back to face him. “We clean this up and we eat. After dinner, we’ll pick one subject and start there. I’ve heard that if you can successfully teach what you’re learning to someone, it means you’ve mastered understanding it.” 

Your lips tugged into a pouting frown. More tears filled your eyes and you reached up to wipe them away. Changbin followed your reaction with his own frown. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because you’re sweet and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you.” 

“Nonsense, everyone deserves their own Changbinnie.” He reached down and placed a soft kiss against your pouty lips. “Go clean up and I’m going to stack these on the counter.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too. Now hurry!” He pulled away and shooed you. “The food is going to get cold and you know how I feel about cold food. Bleh.” 

_ _ _ 

Hyunjin: 

“Sweetheart, you can’t stay in the car the entire day.” Hyunjin hung against the wide open passenger door with an amused smile. “You know I’m stronger than you, right? I could just simply lean down and tug you straight out of there.” 

You threw him a weak side eye. This morning, you woke up feeling awful. Since it was his day off, Hyunjin had been taking care of you the entire evening. Every few hours, he had been taking your temperature. When it spiked three degrees in ‌a few hours, he insisted on taking you to the hospital. 

The only issue? You hated hospitals and doctors. Not once in your life had you ever trusted a nurse. In the middle of your fever, your anxiety sky-rocketed. You begged him not to take you, but here the two of you were now. He parked right beside the emergency room door, but you refused to get out of his car. 

“What if I go in there and they only give me twenty-four hours to live?” You hoarsely uttered. 

“Then we better get in there to make sure you have twenty-four hours and not twenty-three.” 

“What if they tell me I have cancer?” 

“Sweetheart-” 

“Or what if it’s worse than that? What if I have a broken bone that I’m not aware of? My foot has been hurting since I rolled it a few days ago and maybe it healed wrong. What if they have to break it again and it goes wrong? What if it gets infected and I lose my entire leg?” 

He called your name, but you didn’t respond. You were too busy voicing your concerns out loud. “What if,” you continued, “they find out I’m really sick and they have to give me a shot in the butt?” 

He blinked, completely surprised. “What if they what?” 

“You heard me, Hyunjin! What if they have to give me a shot in the ass? Why can’t we just go back to that sweet pink medicine that was stored in the fridge? Why do doctors cause misery?” You threw your head back against the seat and continued whining. 

You knew you were being dramatic, but between your high fever and your anxiety, you were spiraling. Just thinking about going in and being poked and prodded in your state.  It was unfathomable. 

“Or, I know this sounds crazy, but what if you just go in, they diagnose you, give you some medicine, and we go back home?” 

“Why would they do that? They’re evil doctors,” you whined as your head slumped to your chest. You were exhausted and trying to fight with Hyunjin, it was getting harder and harder to stay on topic. Your body ached and wanted to nod off. 

“They’re not evil and I’ll be right there with you the entire time.” He reached down and scooped you into his arms. “Do you think I’d let them hurt you? No way.” 

You groaned as your head shifted against the warmth of his chest. “They’re gonna kill me, probably. Kill me and rip my limbs apart. They’re going to feed me my feet and they’re going to-” 

He snorted and squeezed you tighter. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about? Doctors wouldn’t do such an outrageous thing. They want to help you, not feed you your own feet.” 

“I forgot you’d eat my feet.” 

“Huh?” 

“You ate Minho’s foot in that one photo.” 

“Honey, I think you’re delirious from your fever.” 

Your eyes drooped and the emergency doors swung open. The scent of disinfectant hit you and your eyes slipped shut. You mumbled his name, but he didn’t stop walking to the front desk. He started explaining the situation to a nurse. 

That didn’t stop you from trying to explain how you needed your feet as you succumbed to sleep. 

_ _ _ 

Han: 

“I’m anxious,” you uttered as you laid on the living room floor. Your limbs sprawled out and your gaze caught the spinning ceiling fan. Wooden panels whirled around so fast that they were a giant blur. 

“Me too.” Han agreed as he laid a few feet away from you. “I don’t know what I’m anxious about. What are you anxious about?” 

“The future, I think. How does it happen? What if it goes wrong? What if I make the wrong mistakes? What if I fuck it up?” 

Han’s eyes widened and his adam’s apple bobbed with a gulp. “Okay, cool. Now you have me anxious about the future, too.” 

“What if we break up?” 

“What if we’re together for the rest of our lives?” He countered. 

“Woah, are we prepared for that? For this forever? I want to say that I am, but forever is an awfully long time.” 

“Isn’t it a good thing?” 

“Listen, I’ve been a victim of your farts.” 

He reached over and playfully slapped his hand on your shoulder, causing you to laugh. “Shut up!” He whined. “Yours are ten times worse than mine.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

“Yeah-huh!” 

“Prove it!” You challenged. 

“Stage one, denial.” 

You burst into a fit of giggles and he followed. Your hands curled up over your stomach as you shook. For a few brief moments, you pushed the anxiety from the front of your head. You sucked in a deep breath and let it out. 

“But really,” you continued, “how do you stop your anxiety?” 

“I ignore it by watching anime. How do you stop yours when it’s bad?” He shifted so he could stare at you. You didn’t move from laying on your back. His arm moved up to prop his head. 

“I do whatever I can to escape reality. Most of the time, it’s social media or shoving my nose in a book.” 

“Sometimes I bother one of the guys. Life feels better when I’m with them. Even if it’s just one, I feel less stressed. We’re always laughing together so…” 

“I understand, it’s a really special bond that you have with the other group members. I’ll admit that it makes me jealous. It just sounds nice and what you have, it’s so authentic and real, you know? You don’t just have one good person, you have seven. I’m sure you have more than that, but-” 

“It really is special, isn’t it?” He smiled to himself and shifted back onto his back. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sometimes when I’m really stressed, I go visit Minho. Every now and then, we’ll go to his parents’ house to see his cats. That’s my favorite way to ease anxiety.” 

“If only you had a pet.” 

He nodded in agreement and the two of you sat in silence again. Tangled in your own thoughts, your eyes went back to the spinning ceiling fan. You watched it spin around and around and around and-

“Holy shit!” You jerked upright with wide eyes. “Han Jisung, you idiot!” 

“Huh?” 

“You have a dog!” 

“I have a dog?” 

“Bbama!” 

“Obama?” He echoed, feeling more confused. “The former president of the-” His eyebrows furrowed until he gasped and slammed a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, I have a dog!” He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed your arm. “Come on, we gotta go visit Bbama!” 

“Obama,” you mocked him as you followed. 

He turned around and stuck his tongue out at you. Yours poked out and caused him to huff. “Shut up,” he finally grumbled. “So I forgot I had a dog! Sue me!” 

“Bbama might.” 

_ _ _ 

Felix: 

“It’s not funny!” You childishly stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips. 

Across the way, there were tears in Felix’s eyes. The two of you had been posing in front of Hyunjin’s camera and trying to take cute photos together. The last one came out with your eyes in two different directions and half-closed. 

Hyunjin was trying not to laugh, for your sake, but Felix was losing it. For the past two minutes, he’d been on the ground with a hand on his stomach. Just when he thought he composed himself, laughter broke back out. 

“Baby, p-please,” he weakly uttered. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” His words cut off with more laughter. 

You didn’t want to do this because of this reason. The two of you were supposed to go official with your relationship and you wanted a cute photo to announce it on Instagram. Hyunjin offered to take it, but none of them were coming out right. 

You were anxious, worried that the photos would all come out ugly, and here you were actually living that scenario. Your cheeks were red with humiliation, but it didn’t seem to bother Felix. He was still cracking into fits of giggles. 

“It’s not funny,” you mumbled again, feeling more and more miserable. “I told you this was a bad idea.” 

Felix shook his head and blonde tendrils went flying. “No, i-it wasn’t a bad idea. This was the best idea. I just wasn’t expecting that angle. It was one poor photo and-” 

“It feels like every photo has been a poor photo. I’m not doing it right. I don’t know how to pose like you do. I’m not used to-” 

“Hey,” he shoved himself off the ground, “it’s okay, really.” 

“No, it’s not. You keep laughing at me. I feel like we’re wasting Hyunjin’s time. So much of his time that he just disappeared to go find a snack while we recouped.” 

“Hyunjin is a growing man. You couldn’t help that if you wanted to. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just-” He reached forward and gently cupped your cheeks. “I love you so much, you don’t understand it.” 

“I don’t like being laughed at, even if it’s just a silly photo. I’m always afraid that-” 

His head shook. “I’m not laughing at you. I mean, I am, but I’m laughing at the pose you ended up in. Think about it. Wouldn’t you laugh if Hyunjin snapped a photo of me in that same pose?” 

“I guess.” He narrowed his eyebrows at you. “Okay, I guess if the roles were reversed, I’d probably laugh a lot. I look like an idiot.” 

“Exactly.” He pressed on your cheeks and caused your lips to press together. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much.” 

Your cheeks went red and your lips grew into a smile. He grinned and leaned forward and then- 

Flash! 

Felix jerked away with a groan and you blinked rapidly, trying to gain your vision back. His hands went up to rub his eyes. “Hyunjin?” 

“I got it! This is the perfect photo! Oh, you guys are just so cute!” He squealed as he stared at the screen on his camera. “That speech? Disgustingly cute. This photo? Fan wars are going to be caused.” 

“Hyunjin,” Felix warned. 

“What? I’m just saying.” He shrugged and spun the lens towards the two of you. “What do you think?” 

As you stared at the photo of Felix’s twinkling eyes, a smile on his face, and your own blushing smile; you knew he was right, it was perfect. _ _ _ 

Seungmin: 

“And this.” Seungmin grabbed an item from the shelf and placed it in the grocery cart. “And this. One of these,” he picked up two more items and dropped them into the cart. “Three of these and-” 

Your arms curled around yourself tighter. To Seungmin, grocery shopping was a necessity. To you? It was, but specifically, when the store wasn’t thriving with customers. Showing up around five on a Friday evening was the worst thing you agreed to do. 

Seungmin had the list and he was carefully marking items off one-by-one. You were behind him and stressed out. The moment you walked into the store beside him, you swore you could feel the pulsing and stressful energy of the crowd. 

People were rushing in and out of the aisles. Some were getting pushy while waiting for their turn to look at a specific product. Seungmin didn’t seem to mind the chaos. Maybe he did and he just tuned it out somehow, but you? You didn’t work like that. 

You were feeling stressed and wanting to cry. More and more people were slowly entering the front of the aisle that you just came down. You swore you could feel the annoyance of some. It didn’t help that Seungmin kept stopping every few feet to check off an item and calculate the prices of everything. 

“Seungmin?” You spoke up nervously as you glanced over your shoulder. 

“Hm?” 

“Can we please leave this aisle?” 

“Hold on, let me add these two numbers together.” 

You sighed, but continued waiting. Your brain screamed and begged you to get out of the aisle, but you stayed close to Seungmin. You shut your eyes to focus on your irregular breaths and when you opened them a few moments later, Seungmin was gone. 

Your eyes widened and you stepped forward, but before you got far, a cart hurried past you. You jumped, side-stepping, and trying to get out of the way as a random woman sped by. Your hands curled into fists and you pressed yourself against the colorful cereal boxes, trying to make yourself smaller and take up less space. 

Out of the aisle, you glanced around, but Seungmin was missing. Cursing beneath your breath, you hurried to the next aisle and glanced down at it, only to find it void of the light blue hoodie he was wearing. 

You searched and the more you searched, the more your anxiety grew. The overhead lights were too white and too bright. The chattering of people grew louder and louder. Your own heartbeat hammered against your ears. 

A lump built in your throat, but you forced yourself to swallow it. You hated crowds; you hated the congestion of people, and more importantly, you hated that feeling of suffocation that sat upon the top of your chest. It compressed your lungs and made breathing barely operable. 

Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on the task at hand. Walking around felt nearly impossible. Too many people had carts and weren’t paying attention. Someone was texting and another one was making a phone call. Someone else stopped in the middle of an aisle and pressed buttons on their phone. 

“Excuse me,” you uttered as you walked around them. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at the huff that left their mouth. “Some people have no manners,” they grumbled. Unaware that they did anything wrong, they hurried away, only to stop in front of the opening of another aisle to pull out their phone again. 

You wandered around again, trying to find Seungmin, but to no avail. Your hand reached into your back pocket to grab your phone. Just as you considered talking to him, you pulled your hand away from your phone. He shut his phone off at the beginning of the trip, not wanting to be interrupted. 

Frustrated and too upset to function, you checked a few more aisles, but you couldn’t find him. You began to head towards the door, assuming you’d just wait in the car until he got back. You walked and walked and walked until a car bumped into the back of your ass. 

You wheeled around and there stood Seungmin. His grin fell when he took in your teary eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” 

“There’s too many people. I couldn’t find you and I’m so overstimulated. I thought you were a stranger and I just-” 

“Breathe,” he reminded you as he stepped out from behind the cart. “I’m sorry. I thought you were behind me when I left the cereal aisle. I turned around and you were gone. I was grabbing items in another aisle and I figured you’d find me. I didn’t think-” 

“It’s not your fault. I can’t help my social anxiety, it’s just so busy. Some woman was so rude to me. I just want to go wait outside. I feel overwhelmed and it’s becoming a struggle to breathe.” 

“Do you want me to go with-” 

Your head shook. “Finish shopping and I’ll wait for you in the car. I’m sorry, I wanted to help you, but-” 

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I should have considered how busy the store is at this time of the night. You go to the car and I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” 

“I love you.” 

Not caring that he was in the middle of the store, he leaned up, grabbed your cheeks, and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. A sweet unexpected gesture that tasted like spearmint and your salted tears. 

“I love you too. Now get out of my store,” he grinned. “No adult supervision. I’m going to get dino nuggets.” 

_ _ _ 

Jeongin: 

Jeongin had seen a lot of stupidity over the years. He saw it in his fellow idol members. He saw it blatantly stamped all over the idol industry. It was rare that the stupidity came from you, but today was different. 

He shielded the top of his head with his arm to block the rain from his vision. The keys jingled in his hand and his shoe squeaked on the entry to your shared home. He grumbled and ripped off his damp coat. 

The rain hadn’t stopped pouring for what seemed like hours. A constant downpour that was steadily sprinkled with thunder and lightning. Earlier, the power to his company’s building went down after lightning struck a nearby power cord. He finished the rest of his schedule via a backup generator. 

He kicked off his shoes and called your name. He expected you to be taking a nap. On certain evenings, you did. Some days, you stayed up late, came home, and indulged in a few hour nap. He grew used to the routine, but you weren’t on the couch. 

He headed to your shared room and, to his surprise, you weren’t there either. You had to be home, he knew that. Your phone was there on the nightstand and face down. Your shoes, he put his own right next to them. 

He called your name, but you didn't respond. Just as he was about to call your name again, there was a flash. Through the glass sliding door, the balcony lit up and there you were. Squatting on the ground, huddled around yourself, and soaking wet, you sat in a small ball. 

His eyes widened and he rushed forward. He tugged on the balcony door, only to find it locked. He cursed, flipped the lock, and swung the door open. “What are you doing out here? Get inside now!” He called out over the loud sound of heavy rain. 

Your eyes half-opened at the sound of your name. You glanced over to find a worried Jeongin. He grabbed your forearm and tugged your dripping and shivering body back inside. His eyes scanned you up and down. 

“What happened to you? What did you do? Why were you locked on the balcony?” 

“I was anxious,” you mumbled. “I went out to get fresh air and I must have slammed the door shut too hard and the lock flipped. When I went out, it wasn’t raining.” 

“But it’s been raining for hours!” 

“Has it? I just woke up freezing cold a few minutes ago, I think. It’s not too bad after you get used to being soaked.” 

He sighed and grabbed the end of your shirt. “Arms up.” 

You didn’t fight him tugging off your shirt. “You’re such an idiot,” he mumbled. “You’re going to catch a cold by wearing these soaking wet clothes. You’re going to wake up with a fever and sniffles.” 

“On the bright side of things, I don’t feel anxious anymore.” 

“Because you’re too cold to feel it.” He sighed and grabbed the warmest blanket he could find. “From now on, if you go out onto the balcony when I’m gone, crack the door.” 

“Okay.” 

“What were you anxious about, anyway?” 

“I don’t know. I’m too cold to remember, but this blanket is so warm. Have I ever told you I love you?” 

“Sometimes I think I should reconsider my offer.” 

“That’s not nice.” 

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way at certain times.” 

“Only when you wear ugly shoes.” 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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[thetriumphantpanda]

baby, it's cold outside | joel miller

Summary | Patrolling with Joel is always easy, he's your friend after all, but when a snow storm forces you to stop halfway, you're both faced with feelings that you'd both rather ignore, but with nothing but time, talking about them is your only option.

Word Count | 4.2k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Explicit 18+. A snow storm and a cabin with a nice, warm fireplace. Unspecified age gap. Explicit smut - unprotected PiV (don't do this, pls be smart), oral sex (F), size kink if you squint, dirty talk, two idiots who love each other, some negative feelings towards the holidays but nothing else I can think of!

Authors Note | A huge thank you to the wonderful @hellishjoel for setting the 12 days of Pedro up and asking me to take part - this was so much fun to put together and I hope you all love it as much as I do!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Thank you to the wonderful @saradika for the divider!

Despite having lived in Wyoming for years now, the winters were still a surprise to you. Icy cold winds, frosted windows every morning, thick downfalls of snow almost daily and a struggle to get warm no matter how many layers you wore. Some would call it picturesque, and you suppose you could see it, everywhere you turned in Jackson at this time of year, even though it was against the backdrop of the end of the world, it looked like it could adorn the cover of any Christmas card or be the setting for any Christmas movie. It didn’t matter, because you hated it either way.

When the tree went up in the centre of town, and the lights got switched on, it only served to remind you how solitary you were. How you existed mainly entirely on your own. No family, barely any friends, always the talk of the gaggle of girls who would whisper to each other whenever you passed and start laughing to each other, or the boys who always wondered why instead of hanging around with people your own age, you opted to spend it alone, or with someone who was pushing sixty.

Because if there was a single person in this Godforsaken town that you could class as a friend, it was Joel Miller. Quiet, closed off, unapproachable until you chipped away at his hard exterior, just like you in so many ways, it was actually sickening really. You liked Joel, ever since Tommy had put you two together for patrols when Maria had given birth, it was like you’d found someone who finally understood your need to be alone.

Patrolling outside the walls gave you peace, let you leave your loneliness behind for a while, just you and the ground beneath your boots, the feeling that you were doing something wrong, were less of a person because of your lack of friends and relationships left behind at the gate. You’d proven yourself capable more than enough times for Tommy to realise you were an asset. You’d saved more than enough people with your good aim and quick trigger finger, been ruthless in getting rid of raiders who strayed too close to your safe haven, and he knew your need for solitude, which is why he trusted you on these longer routes, on the more complicated patrol rotations, the ones that would get you out of Jackson for a week.

You surmise that’s probably why he chose to pair you up with Joel. In the two years you’d patrolled together, you’d come to realise that he needed that solitude just as much as you did. A way to leave behind being a father at the gate and remind himself of exactly who he was before. Out here, walking side-by-side next to you, he wasn’t Ellie’s dad, he wasn’t the man who still woke up in cold sweats remembering the heavy weight of his dead daughter in his arms, or that man who had lost almost everyone he’d ever cared for along the way, he was just Joel. Joel, who was more comfortable cradling a rifle in his arms than he was his infant nephew. Joel, who preferred comfortable silence instead of filling the quiet with talk. Joel, who, even when you suspected he hated you at the start, would have protected you to the death no matter what.

You were similar, far more than you’d like to admit, and as the weeks and months had drawn on, and you’d moved into being more comfortable with each other, he really was one of those things you’d wanted for so long. A friend. Someone to rely on, someone to drink with at the end of a hard patrol route, someone who made sure you ate when it was the last thing on your mind, someone who fixed the hole in your roof and put new planks of wood on your porch when you almost fell through it one day, someone who confided in you about how hard he found being a parent again, someone who opened up to you when things started to sour with Ellie. A friend.

He was also someone, in the last six months, that you suspected wanted to be more than your friend. It had started small, with things any good friend would do. He would offer you his arm when you walked during the winter so you wouldn’t slip, started packing double lunch so he knew you’d eat when you’d go out together, but then it was the hand on the small of your back through town, or the way he’d sit close to you in the bar, knees knocking against yours just so he could put a hand on your knee to apologise for getting too close.

And it’s not like you didn’t see that in him either. For a man who was almost sixty, he was incredibly handsome, able to do unspeakable things on patrol that neither of you would talk about to anyone else, strong in a way you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Sure, his hearing was shot in one ear, his middle soft with age, and his hair and beard peppered with grey hair, but Joel Miller was a sight.

But, what if you’d read his signals wrong? What if his kindness and that warm hand on your knee was just him being a Southern gentleman? You throw yourself at him and he doesn’t feel the same, what happens then? You lose one of the very few friends you’ve ever had, and that’s somehow worse than knowing you’ll never know what the feel of his skin is like under your touch or what it sounds like when he moans your name for you.

The patrol route is brutal this day, wind and snow making it hard to see anything in front of you. You and Joel had to shout loudly to each other in order to hear anything, so when you stumble across the cabin, halfway through the route, you both decide that it’s best to head inside, get warm and wait out the worst of the storm before carrying on. Safer that way, is what Joel said, but you think it’s got more to do with the cold on his joints than the safety. Even at your younger age, your bones were certainly aching.

The wind whips a flurry of snow into the abandoned cabin when Joel pushes the door open, ushering you inside quickly, shutting the door quickly behind the two of you before more snow can follow you in. He sets his rifle down near the door and his backpack on the worn, moth-eaten couch, kneeling in front of the fireplace.

This particular cabin is a regular stop on this patrol route, an agreement between the residents of Jackson who frequent it to keep it stocked with firewood during the cold season. You silently note to thank whoever had patrolled before you for stacking the fireplace so all Joel really needs to do is set fire to the scrunched paper dotted through the wood to get the warmth of the fire flooding the small front room.

“Reckon we’re here for the long run,” Joel grumbles, holding flat palms up to the flames to warm his hands, “Ain’t no way we’re walking anywhere in that.”

And he’s right, the light of the day is fading fast and even in daylight, the blizzard had been a nightmare to traverse. It’s not like you’re wanting to rush back though, you sometimes wish you could pack everything up and come out here for good, live in your solitude until the end of your days, but for now, just a few more nights away from the place that reminds you just how alone you are will do.

You settle down on the couch, trying to burrow further into the coat around your body, not bothering to take your gloves or your hat off until the flames of the fire are stronger.

“Come sit closer,” Joel murmurs, motioning with his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him, “Warm up a little.”

You slip down from the couch and scoot along the floor until you’re sat next to him. Joel reaches over and takes hold of your wrist, gently pulling off your glove, “They’re damp,” He states, reaching for your other hand to do the same, “Take your coat off too, you’ll get a chill otherwise.”

Working to unzip the front to pull it off, whilst Joel throws an extra few pieces of wood on the fire, you settle a little bit closer to the flames, feeling the warmth start to seep through your other layers. He stands, taking your coat and his, hanging them on either end of the fireplace to dry out a little, then he sits back down next to you, although a little closer than he had been before, so close that you can feel the heat of his body next to you.

You take a moment to steal a look up at him, his body larger than yours, towering a little next to you, but in the glow of the flames he’s fucking breathtaking. You get lost in tracing his jaw and the hook of his nose with your eyes that he’s turning his head to face you before you can turn away from him. He catches you with that small smile that is saved only for his family normally, Ellie, Tommy, sometimes Maria, and now, more often, you. So you smile back at him, let the warmth lick through your body, and before you realise it, he’s leaning his, broad shoulders bumping yours as his face gets closer, and God, it would be so easy to let him do it, move your face towards him, press your lips to his and burn it all to hell, but as he inches closer, that pit is opening in your stomach, bubbling anxiety and dread, so as he inches closer, you have to stop him.

You bring one of your fingers up to press against his lips gently, watching as he purses them against your touch a little, but then his eyes open when you speak, so softly, so quietly that he almost missed your plea, “Please don’t.”

It’s like you’ve burnt him with the way he not only drags his face from you, but his whole body, putting so much distance between the two of you that you almost cry. He clears his throat, running his hand over his face, “Right,” He mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” You insist, not meeting his eyes though, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Stupid of me,” He shakes his head, “Just thought-” He sucks in a breath and pushes it out on a sigh, “Thought maybe you’d feel the same, but it was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Joel,” You sigh, finally turning to him, “It’s okay.”

“Makes sense,” He shrugs, eyes boring holes into the flames in front of you, “I’m old, too old for you to want me.”

“It has nothing to do with you being too old for me Joel, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about that.”

You expect him to drop it, like he often does with these kinds of conversation, the ones that involve feelings, but he doesn’t.

“Then what is it?”

“Well, it has nothing to do with your grey hairs or your creaky fucking knees, that’s for sure.”

He’s looking at you with a look that says to get fucked, hurry up, tell him the real reason for all this.

“I could be shit in bed for all you know.”

“Well that’s easy to rectify, just need a little practice.”

It makes you snort, “Can we be fucking serious for a minute, Miller?”

“You’re the one who said it first.”

“What happens when it goes tits up?” You ask, “When you get bored of me, or realise I’m not what you thought I was, what happens then?” He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you beat him to it, “I lose my best friend, that’s what happens, the only person in this Godforsaken world that I have, and I don’t want that, I don’t want a world where I’m without you.”

“Who says it’s going to go tits up?” He counters, “Baby, I’m old, I ain’t gonna go running off, I just want somethin’ good, somethin’ happy, and I want that with you,” Just like you had done before, he starts talking again before you can add something, “Put your faith in somethin’, darlin’,” He’s moving back towards you now, shifting closer, “Put your faith in, me.”

It sounds so easy when he says it like that, because you had once before, without even realising. Let him in, let him get close, to know everything you’d been through, share everything he’d been through. You let him sit with you late at night in the summer, strumming his guitar on your porch, he lets you share his whiskey when you need it.

“I’m still gonna be your best friend,” He urges, that warm palm resting on your knee, “That ain’t gonna change, we’re just gonna add to it.”

And for some reason, it snaps, all of your good judgement and everything that was holding you back. His face is cradled in your palms before you know it, your body straddling his lap as your mouth slants over his, a surprised gasp swallowed by your mouth as his lips open against yours, his hands coming to rest on the globes of your ass through your jeans, pulling you closer, chest flush to chest as you soak this in.

Hands dropping to the collar of his shirt, you start to slowly unbutton it, mouth still against his, tongue tasting him as your fingers push button after button through their holes until you can push it from his shoulders, drag his arms from it, drag his undershirt from it’s place tucked into his jeans.

Joel gasps when your hands make contact with the skin under it, fingers still slightly icy from the cold, but that too is swallowed by your mouth, as is the moan that drags from your throat when he bucks his hips into yours.

He pulls away from your lips, forehead pressed to yours as you both breathe deeply, “Don’t seem shit in bed so far.” He chuckles.

“I was fucking with you Joel,” You smile, punctuating it with a roll of your hips into his, “I’m a delight in bed.”

“Prove it.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This is the floor Joel,” Which earns you a squeeze to your ass, “I’ve never fucked someone on the floor before.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s flipped you over, your back pressed to the dusty wooden floor, his body looming over yours, fingers picking the button of your jeans apart, pulling the zipper down, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down your legs, underwear along with them too, before they’re thrown behind him somewhere, forgotten as he parts your knees, legs spread, exposed to him, and you think you might die from the way he looks at you. You bury your head into your shoulder, trying to escape his gaze as he drags his thumb along your folds, growling when he feels how wet you are just from his mouth on yours.

You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of his feet hitting one of the armchairs behind him as he lowers his chest to the floor, hands pulling at your hips, your back dragging across the wooden floor as his mouth presses a single, feather-light kiss to your clit. The smallest of touches to your body has your back arching into him.

How long has it been? Not since you fucked someone, because in the grand scheme of things that hasn’t been too long. No, how long has it been since someone actually made you feel good? Years, you think. Too long. Too long since sex was anything more than just stress relief, pressed against the brick wall by the Tipsy Bison, letting someone fuck you so you could feel something, giving them the bragging rights of fucking the town outcast in return.

This is different. So different. Joel is slow with it, parting you in front of his face with his thumbs, tongue swirling through the slick you’re not even embarrassed about now, tasting you, drinking you in, before he drags his perfect mouth up, lapping gently at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He coos against your skin, his praise making you preen, hips chasing the feeling of his mouth on you, he chuckles at your desperation, “How long’s it been since someone made you feel good, huh?”

Your fingers tangle in the curls on his head, dragging him back down to your cunt to silence him, “Too long.” Is all you offer as he feasts on you.

Tongue swirling, lips suckling, fingers digging into the skin of your hips, dragging you slowly but surely to the edge, the fire in your blood no match for the fire against your skin. He’s fucking good at this, knows exactly how to listen to your moans, the way you pull at his hair when he does something you like, collecting the little gasps and hip movements until he’s working a pattern on your pussy that makes you feeling like you’re going to explode, combust, maybe even die a little.

“Don’t stop,” You urge, breathless, sheen of sweat settling across what skin of yours is exposed to the flames near to you, “Gonna - fuck Joel - gonna cum.”

That’s when he pushes two of his fingers into you. Hooking them up inside of your cunt, your legs dropping open further than you thought possible as he works you and works you. You’ve gone quiet, letting out only short breathes when holding them in makes your head light, fingers so tight in his hair that you think it’s probably hurting.

Then, you think you find God, right there on the dirty, dusty floor, when the coil snaps inside of you. Your back arches off the floor, thighs clenched around Joel’s head as his tongue continues the flicks against your clit, ignoring the high-pitches whines of too much, Joel listening instead to the movement of your legs, the way your entire body convulses until you truly are spent for him.

Joel pushes himself up onto his knees, dragging his undershirt over his head, pulling his belt through its loops as you’re sitting up, dragging the upper portion of your clothes off, naked on the floor for him, the flames from the fire keeping you warm, even if your nipples do pebble and peak against the cold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel breathes out as your hand settles on your pussy, fingers dragging through the slick to lazily move over your clit, “I wish you could see yourself right now, baby,” He crones, pushing down his jeans, cock springing free, immediately clasped in his fist, movements slow as he watches you touch yourself, “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

His body falls forward, coverings yours, but this isn’t what you want. Hand on his chest, you’re pushing him back, “Wanna ride you, Joel.” You whine.

Like a kid on Christmas, he’s on his back in seconds, jeans and underwear pooled around his ankles because if you’re not sinking down on him in the next few seconds, he’s going to scream. You settle your thighs on either side of his hips, his cock, heavy and throbbing against his stomach. He’s watching you, as you take the base of him in your hand, line him up with that aching core of yours, head notching into you, where you just keep him for a moment, let him stretch you as you ground yourself with palms on his chest, sinking down, inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside you, warmth wrapping around him, just like the warmth from the fire against his skin.

You start moving your hips, his cock so deep in you he swears if he put a palm on your lower belly, he’d feel himself through your skin with the way you’re grinding against him, head thrown back, mouth dropped open. He wishes he could take a photo of this. He doesn’t think he’s seen a nicer sight in his life.

“It’s a lot, ain’t it baby?” He coos, hands on your hips, guiding your movements, he knows he’s big, been told enough times through his life, but the way you’re slow, getting used to him inside him, has him on the verge of spilling inside you already.

“So big, Joel.” You whine, leaning back now, hands on his knees which have moved up, his feet planted on the floor now, and God alive, if he thought you were a sight before, you’re a fucking masterpiece now as you start bouncing on his cock.

He can’t help himself, he is only a man after all, his hands trailing up the curves of your side, taking hold of your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, listening to the way you sing for him. Somehow, he finds core strength from somewhere, pushes himself up, one hand behind him to prop him where he is, as his mouth sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling that pebbled peak with his tongue, your arm wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself against him, hips still working against his, finger tangling in the curls near his neck, keeping his mouth anchored right where it is.

Joel pulls off you, a wet smack from his lips as he looks up at you with those beautiful brown orbs, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” He praises, “So tight around me, like you were made for me.”

“Wanna feel you,” You moan, head dropping against his shoulder, “Wanna feel you come for me.”

He’s wrapping his arms around your back, dragging you down with him as he rests himself back on the floor, your chest pressed to his as he finally takes control. Feet planted on the floor with your teeth digging into his shoulders, he fucks up into you, the cabin filled with nothing but breathy moans and a lewd smack of skin as he pounds himself into you. In an ideal world he’d focus on making you come again, feeling you clench around his cock as you fall apart would be incredible, but he thinks there will be time for that later.

He’s so fucking close, you can feel it, the way his fingers are gripping t every inch of skin they can reach, the way his hips are faltering and how your name is more of a feature on his lips. You let out a surprise squeal as he flips you both, your back now to the ground as his cock slips out of you, his fist replacing the wet heat of your cunt as the warmth of his cum splashes across your lower belly, a howl, not unlike an animal, falling from his mouth as he paints you, claims you as his own with those ropes of cum across your skin.

When all is said and done, and he’s taken in the sight of your skin splashed with his spend, the two of you lying in front of the fire, one blanket dragged from the bed on the floor to soften the harsh wood, another pooled around both your hips, this feels like home. Both you and Joel, led on your side, watching each other, and the flickering light of the fire bathes you both in orange, in warmth.

His hand traces your face, thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he leans in to kiss you. Hours later, with harsh wind and snow still swirling outside, he brushes a thumb across your nipple, your hand reaching down between you to find him hard again. He puts you on your back this time, creaky knees be damned, slides his cock into your aching cunt once more, fucks you slowly, the entirety of his weight pressed against you. That orange glow almost convincing you that this was before, when things were normal, romantic even, as his lips leaves tiny bruises across your skin.

When he’s marked you once more as his, cum splashed from your pussy to your tits, he lies back down, the broad expanse of his back to the dying embers of the fire, your back pressed to his front, his arm snaked under your neck, urging you to sleep, and as you drift off, Joel’s hot breath against the skin of your ear, his other arm draped loosely over your waist, you pray that the snow is just as bad in the morning, because if it were possible, you want to return even less now, want to remain huddled next to Joel, on the floor, for the rest of your life.

[nothing0fnothing]

A lot of people don't understand that likeability is a massive decider in how we acsess the world, and how that disproportionately affects survivors of childhood abuse.

If we're likeable we get perks. We might get upgraded on our flight. We could get a little freebie here and there. Humans are social creatures. People like us, and in turn want to do nice things in hopes we will like them back. That's super cool. Win for humanity. Nice people deserve nice things. Everyone deserves a free latte or a slightly nicer hotel room as a treat.

But we don't just deal with this kind of social exchange for flights and lattes. Buying a car is a social interaction. Job interviews are social interactions. Doctors appointments are social interactions. Stop and searches or traffic stops are social interactions. If you're likeable, you will probably get a car for a fair price or a job you're qualified for. You will find it easier to get your doctor to listen to you or you might be able to charm your way out of a ticket. If you're not likeable, those things become harder for you.

So.. what? Karma. Good vibes. What goes around comes around. Be nice to people and they'll be nice to you, duh.

But likeability has very little to do with being nice. For most people, being likeable isn't in their control. If you're ugly or fat, if you're not white, if you're lower class, if you're disabled or neurodivergent, suddenly whether you're liked or not has very little to do with how you treat other people, it's about how they perceive you. It's painful when you just want people to like you, it's dangerous when you need them to.

This is why abusers attack their victims likeability.

Gaslighting. Smear campaigning. Public shaming. Isolating the victim till all their friends and family wonder why she suddenly thinks she's too good for them. It all puts a victim in a place where they fear they won't be believed not because they're not credible, but because they're no longer likeable. They're both social currencies, but when you need help and support, likeability always spends better.

Remember Depp v Heard? What was all that revenge porn and outright lying all about? It was about making Amber Heard; the young and beautiful, self educated multilingual, long time human rights champion and loving mother, unlikeable. It was all utter bullshit, but it worked. People were making memes out of her rape testimony. They swarmed her with hate outside the courthouse. They followed her home and posted feces through her letter box. His attorney joked publicly about all the ways she intentionally triggered Amber's PTSD moments before she was to face the world in the most public domestic abuse trial in history, and the public laughed with her. Depp, with the help of his high profile colleagues and incredibly expensive spin doc- I mean lawyers, made Amber unlikeable, and when people decided she was unlikeable they decided she must also be uncredible.

Abusive parents also have the power to make their victims unlikeable. They do this by consistently traumatising them into socially disparaged behaviour, while projecting to the world a picture of the perfect family dealing with a "problem child".

We have a picture in our heads of battered children as withdrawn, quiet little angels, sadly suffering in silence just waiting for someone to notice the pain in their eyes and save them. In real life, this is rarely the case. Most children who have experienced early life abuse are reactive and disruptive. They are defensive and quick to anger. They are loud or sarcastic and they don't respect authority. In short, they are mirrors of the environment that they deal with at home. Due to this, behavioural interventions outside of the home does very little to help, the root of the issue isn't being fixed. So they get reputations as difficult little shits.

These kids go out and interact with the world like the hurt and traumatised people that they are, and the people that are supposed to be their safety net by reporting any suspicions of abuse to CPS, simply don't. Why? Because we find the child less likable than their parents. So when the child says "help me, my home life is horrible", we compare our impression of them to our impression of their parents, and usually without even realising why, we don't take them seriously.

Paris Hilton is an adult survivor of childhood abuse and torture at the troubled teen wilderness programme. Now an adult she uses her platform to speak up, but on that platform she's also told some harrowing stories of how her reputation as a vapid, self serving mean girl/wild child once kept her silent. She wouldn't be believed and her pain would only be mocked or shamed if she spoke out sooner. It's only after years of rebuilding that reputation into one that better reflects who she is as an adult, people are ready to believe her now. Why? Because she wasn't likable then, but she is now.

The thing is, most of us don't grow up into beautiful, wealthy superstars who age like fine wine and are universally loved by every sane person on the planet. Some of us are traumatised as children, who grow into traumatised teens who grow into traumatised adults. Being a traumatised adult is better than being a traumatised teen in a lot of ways. Having the power to simply not speak to the people who abused us for all our formative years is a big one. Not needing the signature of those abusers to acsess things like shelter, sustenance, support and medical care is another. It's not all bad being an adult survivor. It's not easy either though.

Like, I'm only half joking when I say having a stable family you can rely on into your adulthood is a privilege. Most of us don't have that because the smear campaigns didn't just Thanos snap out of existence the moment we turned 18. Out extended families often still see us as the bratty, entitled, violent little shits our abusive parents have been telling them we are since we were walking. On top of that all those authority issues and behavioural issues and PTSD symptoms we had as kids are still there, because nobody believed us when we asked for help so we just never got it.

It has nothing to do with who we are as people, but we just give off "bad vibes." It makes us susceptible to revictimisation and it means when people see the resting bitch face or the anxious fidgeting or the deadpan tone of speaking, their natural human judgement meter decides they don't like us. So we don't get upgraded on the plane and we don't get free lattes and yeah we pay more for things like cars and services because the natural drive people have to give each other favors doesn't really work for us. So some of us don't get perks but that's okay, they're perks because not everyone gets them. It's not a big deal.

Accessing the world shouldn't be a perk of being untraumatised. But when we lose out on job opportunities because our interviewer finds a non traumatised person more likeable than us, it feels like it is. When we don't have a saftey net of familial support so it takes us longer to recover when we're down on our luck or just down in the dumps, it feels like it is. And when we are less likely to be believed when we are reporting either current or historic abuse, it feels like it is. And when we struggle to acsess medical care because our doctors associate typical behaviour of traumatised people with attention or drug seeking, it feels like it is.

[moriitis]

What are all the creeps' opinions of each other?

I LOVE THIS ASK

Let's me ramble like a little bitch.

And before anyone is like 'b-b-b-but tim and brian are not creepypastas!!!!!!!!!!!21111!!!' I literally don't give a fuck. I'm including them.

Gonna include the creeps I only really know well enough btw.

Toby -

Compares himself a lot from the other creeps, so his opinion on them differs. I wouldn't say he's a jealous person, but I do feel in a sense he's a little insecure that he doesn't fit the whole 'spooky' theme. Like Jeff with his scars, Jack being a literal demon. Bare in mind, Toby is a proxy so I personally don't see him meeting much of the other creeps due to his prolonged time out in the woods or in civilisation.

Jeff.

In regards to Jeff, Toby feels super uncomfortable being around him. Give's him big bully vibes which obviously doesn't settle well with his past. Toby would probably force himself to laugh at Jeff's jokes, or try his best to impress him when really he's just really fucking awkward and Jeff judges the shit out of him. He wouldn't choose Jeff if he wanted to hang out with someone, that was for sure but if there were no other choice then he'd just have to endure it.

Ben.

Same kinda vibe with Ben really, although he doesn't find himself hanging out with Ben a lot. Just the same, awkward silence and small talk. Can't help but feel the urge to pick Ben up because he's so fucking small, the idea making him chuckle.

Eyeless Jack.

100% Feel like Toby would really get along with Jack. I think Jack's the best person to get along with, he's quiet, a good listener and only adds input into conversations when needed. Toby loves blabbering his ear off and learning more about the creature. Besides, he's seen Jack a lot due to the amount of injuries he plagues himself with, so it's refreshing to see that familiar blue mask.

Laughing Jack.

The other Jack makes him soooo fucking uncomfortable, like a really horrid reminder of his shitty childhood. Not only that, Jack rocking that whole clown looks just unsettles him. I don't see Toby interacting with him a lot but he defiantly feels unsteady being around him. I feel like Jack would have a really nostalgic smell to Toby's childhood too and it triggers him a little.

Jane.

Doesn't speak to Jane often but always gets this feeling that she hates him and he doesn't know why. Maybe because he dated Clocky? So, he'll avoid her too unless he has to speak to her. Lowkey just feel like Toby would perceive Jane to be a total bitch?

Nina.

Really gets along with Nina! He likes hearing her ramble about things and always gets her opinions on his outfits. Yes, he would absolutely bring her back little trinkets he's found, like nail polish in some chicks bedroom or even a bracelet he robbed off a corpse. Wouldn't be surprised if Toby had a small crush on Nina, but he wouldn't admit it. At times she could be annoying though, especially when Toby doesn't have the social battery to deal with her.

Clockwork.

Hella awkward. Toby would always say the wrong thing and bring up things that she opened up to him when they were dating and it makes things so fucking awkward. He likes her because thankfully they ended on pretty good terms, but he'll never feel a sense of ease around her. Plus, he can't help but notice she's changed a little since he did date her; which, good for her?

Brian.

Has always looked up to Brian more out of Tim. Perhaps it's because Brian's words carry a little more kindness whenever he messes up or becomes a little too emotional. He has a lot of trust with Brian, and finds himself opening up more to him than anyone else. Always refers it as a 'bromance' which is weird because Brian oddly gives him soft, older brother vibes.

Tim.

Yeah, he hates Tim. Sure, at times Tim makes sense in their arguments, but fuck is that guy a stubborn son of a bitch. Always makes Toby feel as if he's fucked up something one way or another. Defiantly has gotten in a lot of physical fights with Tim, which doesn't fix anything in the long run.

Slender.

And he hates Slender too, although he would never admit it. Maybe because Slender is to blame for.. everything. Well, not for his shitty father or Lyra's death, but he needs to find a blame for someone! He hates that faceless prick, the way he controls and twists his own mind. Like he has no control over himself anymore and he hates it. Maybe he would be a different person if it wasn't for Slender lurking in the depths of his mind.

Bloody Painter.

Didn't know he existed until he stumbled upon him once in the forest, painting. He's a good artist, he'll give him that but the kid is boring as fuck. Barely talks and when he does, he speaks either in riddles or is just plain rude. Toby doesn't bother to find a conversation with him.

Sally.

Being with Sally is bittersweet for him, thankfully he's pretty good with kids though. Really enjoys a child presence despite the fact it puts him on edge a little. There are.. some things about her that do bug him but he wouldn't admit it. I wouldn't say he bullies Sally, but teases her a lot or laughs in her face when he falls over.

Kate.

Really gets along well with Kate, always kinda looks at her like a sister, which is hard for him considering Lyra, so unknowingly he becomes very protective over Kate. Despite the fact that she can fully fend for herself and is strong enough, Toby hates the idea of her being sent out on missions on her own.

Jeff -

I always feel like Jeff hates everyone, so tbh I don't see him getting along with many of the other creeps. He's kinda like a loner and appreciates his alone time, though if he can get a laugh out of other peoples misery, he'll take it. Wouldn't really hang out with people for them, just himself because he's a self absorbed asshole.

Toby.

Toby is just another weirdo to Jeff who frankly he can't stand around to be with. The only upside about Toby is that he's willing to do things dumb and stupid which makes Jeff laugh. Best part about Toby is that he doesn't feel pain, so Jeff abuses that a little. He can.. vibe with him at times, just not all the time.

Ben.

Ben is just another weirdo in his eyes, but someone he can moderately tolerate. What he does with all that tech stuff is cool, but slashing people is a lot more better.

Laughing Jack.

Jeff doesn't like Laughing Jack much, probably because he's taller than Jeff and puts him at a disadvantage. Not much to say when he's near him, so will maybe crack a joke about his shitty outfit and lowkey find himself regretting it. Either way, tends to also avoid the clown.

Jane.

Despises her because he's a little pussy and finds her utterly terrifying. He will avoid her at all costs, but tries to put on a whole tough guy persona when really he's scared shitless of her. Will avoid eye contact if needs be.

Nina.

Just another crazy bitch in his eyes that he avoids. Feels like he just has a thing about women in particular. Jeff does give incel vibes tbh.

Clockwork.

This is a chick he can.. moderate but really tends to avoid her too. She's boring and lame.

Brian.

He always views Brian as a softy and cringes a little when he's near him. Maybe because the dude is too nice. Besides from the occasional bumping into each other in the woods, Jeff won't strike a conversation with him.

Tim.

Same with Tim, but this guy has serious issues and Jeff ain't about that life. Guy is too old anyway and he can't be bothered to hang around some guy who mopes around the whole fucking time.

Slender.

Lowkey feel like Slender is a love-hate relationship. Like he can tolerate him, but won't admit it because he's stubborn. Has gotten into a lot of fights with Slender that usually leaves him limping away with his tail between his legs essentially.

Bloody Painter.

Tbh, Jeff has never met the guy or spoke to him. Well, he's seen him about but hasn't had much of an interaction with each other for him to form a solid opinion on the guy.

Sally.

Ew, fucking kids. Sally is annoying and yet, she's the one who hangs out with Jeff the most. Fuck knows why, even he doesn't know but sure, whatever. In a sense, he does feel bad for her and will find himself chatting to her more than anyone else.

Eyeless Jack.

Huge love-hate relationship but it's mostly one-sided for Jeff because Jack is oblivious to this shit. As stubborn as Jeff is, he likes to speak to Jack to find out any gossip Jack may have heard. Also, weirdly enough, likes hearing Jack teach him a little about the human autonomy.

Kate.

Doesn't speak to her often and she puts up a hard wall with anyone she isn't comfortable with, so Jeff doesn't bother to interact with her. From what he could tell, she's nice and if he tried, he could maybe get along with her.

Ben -

Ben is pretty laid back and gets along with almost everyone. I see him being problematic from time to time, but it's pretty rare. Lowkey reminds me of Sombra and likes to find dirt on people.

Jeff.

Probably gets along with Jeff the most considering it's one sided. Although their friendship often results in arguments, Ben prefers Jeff over anyone else. As long as he can vibe with them, he's not bothered.

Toby.

Always finds Toby pretty weird but can also tolerate him to a certain degree when that awkwardness is gone. He has some pretty interesting shit to say and lord, does that guy have some shit on him when it comes to the internet.

Laughing Jack.

Ben vibes with everyone so Jack doesn't really bother him in the slightest. Sure, he's tall as fuck and most the time treats him like nothing but prey, but he's an interesting character.

Jane.

She's... interesting but they don't speak much. Either she's avoiding him or he's unknowingly avoiding her. Doesn't bother him anyway.

Nina.

Get's along with Nina pretty well! They spend a lot of time browsing social media, Ben helping judge outfits she has pinned on her Pinterest. A weird friendship he didn't expect out of her, but he enjoys himself whenever they do spend time together!

Clockwork.

A bit like Jane, they don't speak and on the rare occasion they do, she's pretty unfriendly. He's had times with her that were nice, just gotta get past her stoic self. Good company from time to time.

Brian.

Rarely sees Brian so can't really form an opinion on him. Just a proxy, hard worker and seems nice.

Tim.

Same with Tim, they don't talk ever. Hard worker, seems pretty cold though.

Slender.

Guy gives him the creeps a little but he can tolerate Slender. Doesn't view him as a God per say, but he's thankful for the things he has.. done.

Bloody Painter.

Sooo boring, guy talks so slow and always acts as if he's better than everyone else. Probably the one of the only guys Ben actually dislikes openly.

Sally.

Get's along really well! Enjoys her company and likes to play her little games, best game is Hide and Seek in the forest. She's a sore loser and that's the best part because he can tease her about it.

Eyeless Jack.

Guy keeps to himself so it's hard for Ben to interact with him. Not only that, but he's either skulking away in the Med Bay or he's not seen for months at a time so Ben doesn't speak to him often. Either way, he's nice.

Kate.

Haven't interacted before.

Laughing Jack -

He knows he creeps almost everyone out aside from a handful, so tends to keep to himself. Feels as if everyone is out of his time and 100% says shit like 'well back in my day!'

Jeff.

Always views Jeff as a little brat and finds himself holding back from wanting to snap his neck. Just nothing but an annoying ant at the bottom of his shoe and willingly goes out of his way to avoid Jeff purely because he fucks him off so much.

Toby.

Toby is always so tense around Jack and he's not really too sure why? Jack could probably get along with him somewhat, but only if he stops being so weird around him. Wouldn't go out of his way to form a friendship though, plus Toby is always busy out on missions, so it's rare for him to bump into the kid.

Ben.

Ben is the only one who treats him.. well, normally. Although he can't resist the urge to kill Ben whenever his eyes land on him, so small.. so childlike, it's tempting and he can't blame Ben to avoid him.

Jane.

Doesn't speak to her often as she keeps to herself and seems to avoid everyone, but she is nice when she wants to be. Only thing is, they have nothing in common to speak about. She did mention she likes this one specific candy and now Jack always sorta goes out of his way to give her one just to make her day a little better.

Nina.

A bubbly character that he gets along well with, at times. She can irritate him quickly, as she's almost too childlike.

Kate.

Doesn't interact with Kate as she is also out on missions a lot. She is approachable for someone who never smiles or rarely shows their face.

Clockwork.

They don't get along well, she must not like clowns.

Brian.

Have never interacted, he spends too much time out in civilisation.

Tim.

Same with Tim, have never interacted.

Slender.

Gets along well with Slender, probably because they are both old as fuck and can talk about shit that is nostalgic for them (?) Plus, they both meddle in disappearances with children, so there's that in common.

Bloody Painter.

The only time they had ever interacted was when BP painted a picture of Jack and it was the most twisted, beautiful shit he had ever laid eyes on. BP didn't talk to him after that and he doesn't mind.

Sally.

Easy to get along with considering he is a clown and he attracts children. They play a lot and more often than not, Sally will ride on his shoulders.

Eyeless Jack.

Jack is very mature for his age, so Laughing Jack can find himself get along with him well enough.

Jane -

Always imagined her to also keep to herself, so she doesn't interact with many of the other creeps. Defiantly has a lot of trust issues toward men sorry

Jeff.

This is self explanatory so I don't think I need to go into much detail here. Pretty obvious that she despises him, hates him even; just looking at him makes her blood boil. If she didn't have some sort of self control, she'd made him gurgle on his own blood. Even then, death would be too kind to him. He needed something worse. For now, she avoids him at all costs.

Toby.

Although he doesn't seem too harmful, he does make her feel uncomfortable. She knows deep down that he can't help his tics, but something about his twitching really unsettles her and so she also avoids him.

Ben.

Doesn't like him due to the fact that he gets along well with Jeff.

Nina.

She didn't like Nina at first, purely because she felt like a carbon copy of Jeff but Jane gave her the benefit of the doubt and gets along really well with her. She was hesitant at first, her mind playing tricks on her that Nina would betray her but Nina's character is entirely different than what she pumps out. Jane can't help but think that Nina might not even like boys..

Kate.

Jane see's herself in Kate a little and due to the fact that Kate is younger than her, she can't help but take up the older sisterly role whenever they hang out. Always tries to lecture her and warns her to be careful around certain people. Kate is sweet but broken, like her.

Clockwork.

Despite her odd choice in men, Jane gets along well with Clocky and even at her lowest times, finds herself crawling back to her for some company. It's not often Jane is vulnerable, but when she is with Natalie, it's a different story. At times they have shared moments of bliss.

Brian.

Despite his puppy dog demeanour, Jane knows there is something a lot darker within that man so tends to also avoid him.

Tim.

Probably the kind of man she would've been interested in before her trauma and before she figured out her sexuality. Doesn't speak to him at all.

Laughing Jack.

She avoids him.

Slender.

A bittersweet relationship, she doesn't trust him and yet she feels swayed by the things he has done for her. She's mad that he hasn't done or said anything in regards to what happened to her, what happened with Jeff, so that little bubble of hate still is settled within her.

Bloody Painter.

Does not talk to him. He is weird.

Sally.

Nothing speaks female rage more than when she looks at Sally. The pain within her knowing what happened to Sally, knowing how cruel people men can be. Each time she looks at the child, she wants to cry because her innocence was stripped from her without her choice. It's unfair, it's cruel. Sally didn't deserve this. Jane adores Sally, gives off the same older sister vibe as she does for Kate whenever they interact.

Eyeless Jack.

Hear me out, probably the only man she can tolerate, but that's because it took a lot of convincing from Nina. Doesn't really have much of an opinion toward him, just tends to stay away unless Nina is by her side.

Nina -

A pretty bubbly character, so naturally she gets along with everyone. Really social with a loud mouth, probably either your best friend or not; but most times you will be. Lowkey can and will give off mean girl vibes. She's also a huge trouble maker.

Jeff.

She was head over heels with him, until he treated her like shit and now she despises him for it. Plus, she's a girls girl, so after she found out what happened between him and Jane, she hates him even more.

Toby.

On terms of her BFF's list, Toby would be third. She adores hanging out with him, loves his humour and how relaxed he is around her. Total boyfriend material, although she would never date him herself because that's her friends ex, ew. So, she made him a tinder one day and they browse through it together. Slender did find out and they got in serious trouble.

Ben.

Ben is awesome! When he isn't with Jeff anyway. She enjoys his company and he's always willing to hang out whenever she forces him to.

Kate.

At first Nina got this weird vibe off Kate, that she didn't like her perhaps; but then she realised that it was just Kate's personality. After some time, they got along pretty well! They are total opposites, she is outgoing and Kate is as introverted as anything, but they work well together in a beautiful mix. Maybe Nina has a little crush on Kate.

Jane.

She has a lot of trust issues, so same with Kate in regards that it was hard to form a friendship with her. After some time, they spoke and they get along pretty well! Jane is mature, whereas Nina is pretty immature; so most times it feels as if she irritates Jane. But it's all fun and games.

Clockwork.

They get along well! Nina was so invested in the gossip when Natalie and Toby split up though, she still teases her a little for dating such a goof.

Brian.

He's nice! Although she doesn't seem him often, only when they are home from being out and about. She always probes him about his love life and when he becomes awkward, she will laugh in his face.

Tim.

She knows that she annoys him, but she doesn't really care. At some times, he can be alright!

Laughing Jack.

Tried one of his candies once and threw up, does not trust him since. But they still get along well.

Slender.

Surprisingly, they don't interact much.

Bloody Painter.

They speak, but she doesn't consider him a great friend. He's hard to have fun with, soooo boring.

Sally.

BFFs!!! Adores Sally, who the fuck wouldn't?! They always have sleepovers with one another.

Eyeless Jack.

Nina gets along well with anyone, even the most introverted people! And she doesn't like to brag, but she has made him laugh once or twice before.

Kate -

Much like the other pasta's, she keeps to herself and her job. The main people she interacts with are Tim, Brian and Toby considering they all work pretty closely together. Occasionally she will speak to other people, but prefers her alone time.

Jeff.

Seen him around, but hasn't made the effort to interact with him. Something about him makes her feel uncomfortable, so she promptly avoids him.

Toby.

They get along really well. Despite her not being very talkative, Toby fills the silence by babbling her ear off about random things or facts. At times he can become a bit too much, especially when he follows her around everywhere; but she would never say that to his face.

Ben.

Haven't interacted before.

Laughing Jack.

They don't interact much.

Jane.

A bit like Toby, Jane takes a bit of a protective role over her. Sure, Kate is a little younger; but she is strong and agile and knows how to take care of herself. She enjoys Jane's company when she isn't lecturing her.

Nina.

Another person she gets along well with, when she has the time to speak to Nina that is. She enjoys her and her character, surprisingly. They kissed once.

Clockwork.

Have rarely interacted with one another, but she has heard some stuff from Toby. Doesn't have much of an opinion on her.

Brian.

Enjoys working alongside him and likes the peace he keeps when moments become rough or tense. Almost like a little ball of sunshine they need. Has some really interesting and funny stories. Kate trusts him.

Tim.

Very tense, so tense even that just being around him makes her feel tense too. Considering how closely the trio work together, she doesn't speak to Tim much. And that is nice and she prefers it that way.

Slender.

She does not like him. No other words are needed.

Bloody Painter.

Haven't interacted at all.

Sally.

They don't interact much but Sally drew her a picture once and she has cherished it with her whole life.

Eyeless Jack.

Has only interacted when she needs to be bandaged up, he's taught her a lot of useful things. It's a little awkward when they are together though because they are both pretty introverted.

Clockwork -

I'll be honest, I view most the girls (aside from Nina) to be pretty introverted. Clocky gets along with most people, but she does keep to herself too.

Jeff.

She hates him and she's pretty sure he has no idea that she does. Avoids him.

Toby.

Awkward, so tends to avoid him too. He'll shoot her a wave and it makes her cringe a little. He's a nice guy, but yeah, it's just weird.

Ben.

Doesn't have much of an opinion on him, he's tolerable. At times he can say funny things.

Laughing Jack.

She doesn't like him, not too sure why she doesn't admittedly.

Jane.

An odd friendship she never expected frankly. A part of her expected Jane to not like her and was confused when she kept coming back from time to time; lingering around like she wanted to say something. Has a little crush on her but doesn't want to push anything.

Nina.

A little annoying, but she can be funny and enjoys her company. They get along well.

Kate.

Haven't really spoke nor interacted with one another.

Brian.

Also don't speak much.

Tim.

Only spoke once, doesn't have much an opinion on him.

Slender.

A bit torn between how she should feel toward him. Doesn't particularly like him though.

Bloody Painter.

They've spoken once or twice. She understands why many people feel the way they feel toward him, but once you understand him a little more, he is easy to speak to.

Sally.

Not big on kids, so feels a little uncomfortable around her but still forces a smile here and there.

Eyeless Jack.

He is nice and a good listener, so whenever she needs to speak to him, it's reassuring to know that he isn't one to judge.

Brian -

Don't get me wrong, Brian can be pretty dangerous and I do feel most of his 'bubbly, friendly' persona is a character he puts forward to hide something a lot darker. Naturally, Tim and Brian are forced into working for Slender, so I don't imagine them to interact with many other Pastas.

Jeff.

Seen him around in the forest but they have never spoken face to face. Brian has heard some things, but not a lot. Indifferent toward him really.

Toby.

He gets along well with Toby, the amount of missions they have done together has encouraged their friendship. Toby comes to him to vent when needs be and Brian is always open to lending an ear or even a shoulder to cry on.

Ben.

Haven't interacted before.

Laughing Jack.

Haven't interacted either but he makes him a little uncomfortable.

Jane.

He knows Jane avoids him and he knows why. Feels a little indifferent toward her.

Nina.

Nina is friendly and he likes that, despite her appearance that can be unsettling for some. She always makes him blush whenever she interrogates him about his life and usually results in her teasing him for it.

Kate.

She's quiet and he understands that maybe she just wants to protect her peace a little. When they have a moment together, he'll check in on her and ask if everything is okay.

Clockwork.

They don't speak much but he used to see her hang around with Toby many years back.

Tim.

A person he goes way back with, somebody who knows him down to the T. A little like Yip and Yang, they are an unspeakable duo despite the times where their friendship seemed tense. Brian would trust Tim with his life, despite everything. Brian feels as if he has known Tim forever, but due to the memory loss; doesn't know how long back that is.

Slender.

He would hate him, if he weren't brainwashed into working for him.

Bloody Painter.

Have never interacted before.

Sally.

Seen her around by herself in the forest from time to time and he's lectured her to not be out on her own. She is nice and they get along well.

Eyeless Jack.

Have rarely interacted but he has seen him in the forest from time to time. Brian is convinced that Jack is not human.

Tim -

Tim is mostly just perceived as an asshole at times, but that's because he's battling with himself most the time. He hates what he does, he hates being alive sometimes. Just another proxy that's been brainwashed, his memory dotty and at times he is forgetful. Hence why he doesn't get along with people very well.

Jeff.

They rarely interact, if at all. Thinks he is some kind of creep, so stays away.

Toby.

The kid is unbearable at times, but he's strong and smart. Some underestimate him for that. The only issue is, Tim is tough with him because there's a part of him fighting against Slender in some attempt to make Toby see past his own brainwashed mind. Toby could be a good kid.. But he's hard headed and in more times than not, they fight. Tim knows Toby hates him.

Ben.

Have not spoken before.

Laughing Jack.

Haven't interacted either.

Jane.

They don't speak and he has a feeling she doesn't like him.

Nina.

She speaks to him a lot and he doesn't know why. At times she can be irritating; but she is friendly and that's more than most.

Kate.

Deep down, Tim knows Kate is way too young to be involved in this mess and a part of him wishes she saw that too. But she's also under the influence of the sickness, the brainwashing, so she doesn't see that. Perhaps a part of her genuinely thinks she is doing the right thing? She doesn't open up much purely because she can't remember her life before.. well, this. They don't speak much unless needed.

Clockwork.

They've spoken once, she was nice though.

Brian.

Nostalgia always hits him in the face whenever they speak, like he's known him before, from somewhere and he doesn't know where. Same with Brian, Tim trusts him with anything and despite their petty arguments or fights; he's always been there for him in times where perhaps Tim didn't deserve it.

Slender.

Hates him.

Bloody Painter.

Haven't interacted ever.

Sally.

Also have not interacted with one another.

Eyeless Jack.

Have not spoken either.

Slender -

This entity knows everyone hates him one way or another. But everything is going to according to plan and really he couldn't care about some humans opinions on him. In his opinion, he has saved everyone.

Jeff.

A bratty child that feels as if he needs to make his point known with violence. Jeff doesn't know that Slender was the whole reason why his life is so much better. Doesn't like him much but doesn't convey those feelings unless necessary.

Toby.

Abused and manipulated him at his lowest, after Lyra had died. Of course, Toby would never know that the reason Lyra drove into that tree was because Slender himself and he knows that if Toby did find out; he would lose his shit. He is aware that Toby doesn't like him but he's a hard worker because Slender is just controlling him really.

Ben.

They get along moderately well although they rarely speak. At least Ben seems thankful.

Laughing Jack.

They get along well and occasionally will work together. He is a nice laugh from time to time.

Jane.

At times they get along well, but one time she yelled at him during one of her episodes.

Nina.

They don't talk much.

Kate.

They spoke once, when she was little. He knows she doesn't like him.

Clockwork.

They speak from time to time. No opinion on her aside from the fact that she is a hard worker.

Brian.

He can feel the hatred, although he doesn't portray his emotions much toward Slender.

Tim.

Same with Tim, Slender can feel Tim fighting against him.

Bloody Painter.

Although they don't speak, he knows that Helen is somewhat thankful for the life Slender gave him. He is sick and twisted, as he should be.

Sally.

Probably the only person who gets along with Slender, but then again its natural for most children to feel some kind of attachment toward him.

Eyeless Jack.

They speak but Jack isn't keep on being friends with him, they for real only speak on business terms.

Bloody Painter -

Just a guy who prefers painting over speaking. Kinda see him as an asshole, so doesn't really get along with people well. Not Jeff kind of asshole, just 'leave me the fuck alone' asshole. I see him being on the spectrum and most times goes nonverbal.

Jeff.

They haven't properly spoken to one another but he already know he dislikes the guy. Too loud, too much.

Toby.

They spoke once and surprisingly, he's good muse. After their interaction, found himself doodling Toby a lot (secretly of course.) He could get along with Toby but it seems Toby isn't interested in interacting again.

Ben.

They don't speak but I'm pretty sure he knows Ben doesn't like him.

Laughing Jack.

Drew him art once and now Laughing Jack always tries to talk to him, kinda annoying.

Jane.

They don't talk.

Nina.

They talk occasionally but she overwhelms him a lot.

Kate.

Haven't interacted before.

Clockwork.

He likes her, she's understanding and doesn't speak much. So sitting in silence with her is nice too.

Brian.

Have never interacted.

Tim.

Haven't interacted with one another either.

Slender.

Not sure how to feel about him, mixed feelings for sure.

Sally.

She's too much and being around her drains his energy. Doesn't like nor dislike her really.

Eyeless Jack.

They get along relatively well, Jack eats whatever is left of the corpses BP leaves and it saves him the job of discarding them. They've done a handful of missions together and BP enjoys the fact that Jack doesn't talk much.

Sally -

Naturally, as a child she gets along with almost everyone. She has her moments where she won't like them, but those reasons are stupid or petty.

Jeff.

She knows he doesn't like her but she doesn't care. He can be nice at times even with the whole 'bad guy' persona he puts out. In a sense, she looks up at him a little but she wouldn't admit it.

Toby.

They get along well! There's always a hint of sadness in his eyes whenever he looks at her though and she's unsure why, a part of her feeling as if she's doing something wrong. He puts her on his shoulders a lot and she loves it!

Ben.

He's nice to her! He takes the time out of his day to play with her but he can become pretty mean if Jeff is around.

Laughing Jack.

A clown that likes to make her laugh! What more could she ask for?

Jane.

Sally looks up to her a lot and appreciates what she does for her. She's not willing to play a lot of games but I think Sally understands why.

Nina.

Nina always gives Sally makeovers and she loves it! Loves Nina dearly.

Kate.

They don't speak but whenever they see one another, Kate always gives her a little smile and wave and Sally loves it.

Clockwork.

She seems a little tense around Sally, so she tries to avoid. Sally feels they could get along pretty well though.

Brian.

Toby talks about him a lot but she doesn't seem him often. Maybe once and he lectured her, but he was nice about it.

Tim.

Haven't interacted.

Slender.

At first she found him scary, but she adores him!

Bloody Painter.

She doesn't like him. One time he got mad at her for drawing over one of his pictures with crayon.

Eyeless Jack.

She adores him too. She loves to play hide and seek with him and tease him by throwing sticks or rocks in another direction to throw him off. He always catches her and she loves the chase!

Eyeless Jack -

Another chill, laid back guy. It's hard to be in his bad books unless you speak too loud or just generally piss him off. Looks terrifying but lowk a softy. Gives off 'he wouldn't hurt a fly!' vibe lmao.

Jeff.

Jeff is hot and cold. Some days he hates him, some days he likes him. There's no in-between but Jack doesn't really notice when Jeff is being an asshole as he minds his business too much. Neutral toward him, but likes him on the days he has questions about the human body! Gives him the chance to nerd out a little

Toby.

Likes him but sometimes he's too loud and it really hurts his sensitive hearing. Comes in a lot because the boy is always bleeding somewhere. His blood smells so fucking good..

Ben.

They don't speak often.

Laughing Jack.

They get along well but don't have a lot in common, so conversations can run dry pretty quickly.

Jane.

He had a feeling Jane didn't like him but she's warmed up a little. She only really comes with Nina on her arm, but he doesn't mind.

Nina.

She can be funny! He loves when she whispers though, makes his spine tingle a little.

Kate.

They both don't talk often when they are together but he prefers it that way. She is nice but awkward, like any kid really.

Clockwork.

She opened up once to vent while he was stitching her up and ever since, she comes back just to vent. He doesn't mind, if she needs to talk, he can listen and offer some advice when needs be. Frankly, he's a little confused why she feels so safe around him, but it's whatever.

Brian.

They haven't spoken before but he's seen him around.

Tim.

Haven't spoken.

Slender.

Doesn't mind him per say.

Bloody Painter.

He enjoys BPs company, especially when there is food involved!

Sally.

She's nice and he likes her. They only really play when he has the time.

Didn't expect to write this much tbh. But thanks for the ask! I love talking about the creeps. Half of these are my HCs btw, so take it with a grain of salt. Different for everyone after all.

I 100% would've added more characters but maybe I'll do another post for this or something.

[sophvilla]

Enmity to Ecstasy

°°°°°°°°°Enha Series°°°°°°°°

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun X Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You both Were sworn Enemies since childhood, but as They say that there is a thin line between Love and Hate, And that Line is called Pleasure

Warning

: Heavy Smut, MDNI, 18+, lots of moaning overstimulation, Reader gets called Baby etc,Unprotected sex.

SIM JAEHYUN | 심재현

I’m not sure how we went from mortal enemies to this,

He was your high school enemy who made your life hell. You knew him since childhood but never were on good terms with him, you continued to hate and also torment him here and there and He never stopped teasing you.

And now here you were, in bed with him, naked, legs spread open, taking his cock into your mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was, Maybe that's what happens when you're around someone all the time for years, When you get used to them. When you learn their patterns, Their habits, Their likes and dislikes, Their triggers and quirks, You get comfortable around them, So comfortable that they become part of you. A part of your life that you can't imagine living without.

But that didn't mean you had to be friends. Or even civil. No, That would be too much work. Too much effort. Too much compromise. Besides, what good could come out of friendship? What good could come out of being nice to each other? Nothing, that's what! It was better this way - just keep things status quo as they always have been. Just let things remain the same forever more. Forevermore.

"Fuck, baby," Jake moaned. He thrust his hips forward and buried himself deeper inside of you. "Fuck! Oh god', fuck! So fucking tight, you're so fuckin' tight"

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back against him again and again. He fucked you hard and fast, slamming into your body over and over until you both came together in a frenzy of passion and desire.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, watching as his face contorted into pleasure. His eyes rolled back in his head before locking onto yours once again, He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding past your lips to taste the sweet nectar that was dripping from your pussy.

You moaned softly against his mouth, returning the kiss with equal fervor. Your fingers curled into fists, digging into his back as you pushed yourself closer to your climax,

"Yes-s just like that, jake-e don't stop” you moaned out as he sped his thrust up continuously plunging his cock inside your overstimulated cunt,

Jake pulled away slightly, panting heavily. He smiled down at you before leaning back down and kissing you again. This time, though, he didn't stop kissing you. Instead, he continued to ravage your mouth with his tongue while simultaneously thrusting his hips forward. Each time he did so, your body tensed and shivered in response.

A soft whimper escaped your throat as Jake continued to pound into you mercilessly. The sound of flesh smacking against skin filled the air around you.

Finally, after several minutes of intense fucking, you both came undone from your high as Jake released a loud groan and collapsed onto top of you, leaving you breathless and drenched in sweat.

"God damn," he muttered. He rested his forehead against yours and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

"I can't fucking stop, I don't want to stop" he said before He knelt down between your thighs and gently pressed his fingers against your clit.

"Ohh' hngg" you whimpered at the touch his fingers on your abused clit, You gasped as soon as he touched you, causing your muscles to tense involuntarily,

"Shhh," he whispered. He stroked your clit slowly at first, then began to pick up speed until you felt yourself start to relax. As he continued to rub your clit, he slid his thumb inside of you. He pushed his thumb in deeper and deeper until he found your g-spot.

"Oh god," you moaned. You arched your back and squeezed your legs together, trying desperately to keep quiet. But it wasn't easy. Especially since you knew that if you let go of your control, you would probably scream out in ecstasy.

Jake chuckled darkly as he continued to massage your g-spot. "Mmmhmm," he hummed. "That's right baby. Let me hear you cum for me."

He started to move faster, rubbing your clit harder than ever before.

"Jake-e~," you cried out. You couldn't hold back anymore. Your entire body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of pure bliss washed over you,

"Oh fuck yes," he growled. He increased the pressure on your clit, making you squirm beneath him. "That's it baby. Give in to me. Make a fucking mess."

He continued to tease and taunt you until finally, you surrendered completely. All resistance melted away and you allowed yourself to fall under his spell. You let him take control of your body, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to it.

As soon as he sensed that you were ready, he plunged his cock deep inside of you. He held still for a few moments, letting you adjust to the size of his shaft. Then, he started moving again. This time, he thrust harder and deeper than ever before.

You moaned loudly as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your body shook violently from the force of his pounding,

"Yes! Yes! Too much' jakeee, too much ~" you screamed. Your entire body convulsed with pleasure as Jake slammed into you repeatedly.

"you can take it all baby, take all of it," he grunted. He continued to pound into you furiously, his pace increasing with every thrust.

You closed your eyes and focused all of your energy on experiencing the exquisite sensation coursing through your veins. You lost track of everything except for the incredible pleasure he was giving you.

After several more minutes of intense pounding, you felt your body tremble with you orgasm as his cock was reaching your cervix, making you cum hard, followed by Jake filling your pussy full of his cum as Jake pulled out of you after a few moments. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

You opened your eyes and saw that he was smiling broadly at you. He leaned down and kissed your cheek tenderly.

"Thank you," he whispered softly.

You blushed fiercely, feeling embarrassed by the fact that you had just given yourself to him completely. But you couldn't deny the truth of his words. There was no denying that you had enjoyed every single second of it.

"well I really like it as well so yeahh" you murmured. "Really. I mean, I guess it's kind of weird considering our history."

Jake laughed heartily. "Yeah, well, This had to be done much earlier but I'm glad we still did it."

You grinned sheepishly. "Guess so."

"Also this is not a One-time thing, I'm taking you again' and again until the very end" He whispered but His Face shows all of his Seriousness and sincerity,

As you nodded at his words looking up at him as he pulls you into his embrace, kissing your forehead gently.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Could you do anymore headcannos for the tmnt 2014/2016 boys? Idc what the headcannon is but I love it hc so much

Sleeping Headcanons

Headcanons you say? Let's get into it!

Warnings: mental health, drugs/alcohol

We spend nearly half of our lives asleep, and the boys are no different! They're a little backwards, being basically nocturnal, but they sleep (and struggle to), just like anybody else.

Leo

Bed. Leo is a traditionalist and sleeps on a firm Japanese Futon. He sleeps on his plastron because that's the most practical. He's usually on his side, hugging a pillow, by morning.

Temperament. Even as always, unless he has a migraine, then he's in his room the second he gets home. Dark and quiet. If someone disturbs him, he'll get up and address whatever it is that needs seeing to, but don't expect conversation. However, he *is* a morning person! They all hate him until about 10 am.

Routine. If he has a headache he'll usually have no choice but to just lay down the second he's off the clock. If he doesn't, he has a very strict routine that is *always* adhered to, or he can't sleep (no, that's not a joke):

Tea (usually jasmine) with Dad while processing the day.

Shower.

Teeth.

Undress.

Meditate for 30 minutes.

Sleep.

The morning is much the same but in reverse:

Wake up.

Meditate for 15 minutes.

Get dressed.

Downstairs for coffee/breakfast/discussing the day with Dad.

Training.

Sleeping with a partner. Having someone around to upset his routine is ROUGH. Don't ask to sleep in his bed. Seriously, don't. Sharing *his space* is a HUGE step for him and if you push it, it'll just take longer. He'll start small, inviting you into his room for tea. Be PATIENT with the boy. Once you start sleeping in his bed it'll take him a while to get used to it. The first few times he doesn't sleep. But eventually, you worm your way into his routine, and he can't sleep without you. Until then, he will happily hold you until you fall asleep, even stay watching over you until morning. But he won't sleep.

Mikey

Bed. Pillow pile! He started collecting pillows as a kid to add to his hoard, which is now comically large and takes up 1/3 of his room. He loves the weird ones and has ones with tassles and beads and insane shapes. It's actually pretty impressive and could probably double as a modern art piece!

Temperament. It's all good! No matter what state he's in, he's always the life of the party. Always.

Routine. He's usually parked in front of the TV until everyone disperses (video games/tv/ect). Then, depending on how hard his depression is hitting that night, he'll either grab a bong (hard) or a bottle (harder). He'll drink in his room , but he'll skate down one of the south tunnels to smoke because he doesn't want to hear about it from Leo. Splinter knows about the weed, but doesn't have a problem with it, because it really does seem to help. He would, however, have a problem with the liquor. Once Mike is thoroughly gone, he tosses himself on his pillow pile and attempts to pass out. Sometimes he does. He gets hangovers from the alcohol, but the second he wakes up that mask is firmly back in place and he's good to go! 😃

Sleeping with a partner. ALL. THE. CUDDLES. Expect him not to let go. Like, pee beforehand. He may not be as big as his brothers, but he's still pretty damn heavy. You are HIS Angel. You are HIS miracle. And you aren't going ANYwhere. Lots of nuzzling/scent marking, LOTS of churring, and when he does eventually fall asleep, he snores like a diesel engine. Just poke him in the side and he'll shut up.

Don

Bed. What's a bed? You mean the cot in his lab? On the rare occasion that *someone* convinces him to actually sleep in a bed, it's pretty much whatever bed or bed-adjacent thing they bring him to. By the time he's tired enough that he can be convinced, he's too far gone to care.

Temperament. When Donnie is tired, expect to be snapped at. He'll apologize immediately, but his temper is a hair trigger when he needs sleep. And my dude goes until he stops. Don's body wakes up before he does. Expect mumbled one-word answers that may or may not make sense as he gradually comes to consciousness over the next half-hour.

Routine. Donnie doesn't make the decision to go to bed. He just wakes up and it's later. When he does wake up, his body has been conditioned to perform all the necessary morning tasks without him having to actually be fully conscious. Sit up. Grab freshly brewed espresso from desk next to cot. Shotgun espresso. Wrap joints. Stand up. Go to kitchen for second cup of coffee (because Raph has already brewed a pot, and because at some point in his teenage years, his father insisted on seeing him at least once a day). Make/drink coffee. Eat the closest edible thing. Go back to the lab. By this point, his conscious mind has usually kicked in and he can get back to work.

Sleeping with a partner. I hope you like to be lulled to sleep by computer fans! You'll get used to the phrase, "go and lie down, Dove. I'll just be a minute." It's always a lie. You know it. He knows it. The wall of computer towers behind you knows it. But he does the song and dance, anyway, because he thinks it makes you feel better. It doesn't. If he does happen to fall asleep with you, of COURSE he's the big spoon. He wraps himself around you and holds you as close as he can (he's still working on getting past all those pesky air molecules), with his beak buried in your hair so that he can breathe you in as he falls asleep (at least the air molecules are good for something).

Raph

Bed. My guy is BIG, and needs a ton of support. A traditional flat mattress is uncomfortable unless he sleeps on his plastron which he HATES doing. His carapace is HEAVY, and it feels like he's literally being crushed under his own weight. Besides, he's in enough pain when he wakes up, and as much as he loves working out, he really doesn't want to have to do pushups first thing in the morning. Instead, he has a carbon fiber hammock that he wove himself. It hangs from a reach stacker arm modified with two lifting jacks bolted to the floor, all "liberated" from the shipyard. It supports all of him with the added benefit of pressure on all sides due to his weight, which helps him sleep, especially when he's in a low.

Temperament. When he's tired he's a grump. He's not quick to anger, but expect a lot of grumbling and begrudging acquiescence to things. He doesn't usually push it too far before heading to bed, because let's face it, pain is exhausting, and if he's laying down he's not having to hold himself up. He's not a "morning person," but he's usually okay as long as he knows there's a cup of coffee in his near future.

Routine. Pretty standard. Shower, teeth, etc. Once in bed, he'll mess around on his phone for a while, watching movies/tv/anime, before eventually falling asleep. In the morning, he rolls out of his hammock and heads to the kitchen for coffee with his Dad before everyone else emerges. After that it's his morning workout and he starts the day. Honestly the mostly boring/normal out of all of them.

Sleeping with a partner. He won't sleep in your bed. He just won't. Don't ask. He'll hold you until you fall asleep, no question, but he won't stay. The only hope for a sleepover is at his place. He likes to give you a big hug around the middle and roll into the hammock with you, and it always leaves you giggling as you snuggle up against his plastron. That's when he sleeps best, with you laying on his chest, his arm wrapped around you. Not only is it added pressure, but this way he knows you're safe.

.......

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

[ginnsbaker]

In Silent Screams (2/3)

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely.

Chapter word count: 8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Warnings: Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Toxic Relationships

Notes: M rating this time. It gets spicier because what's between them is just pure lust. There will be a full smut scene that is a bit triggering given the context of how it happens, why it happens. I will mark it in red so you can skip it. Again, you will probably hate Wanda here more than the previous part, be warned.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

Part II

Comfort starts to creep in, wrapping around Wanda like a cozy blanket.

Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely. And as she allows herself to indulge in the newness of his body and all the ways he is different and not what she’s used to, it becomes even more pleasurable (and addicting) for her when they come together. 

Wanda starts to think that maybe being with Vision like this doesn't take away from the love she has for you. It's almost as if she's compartmentalized herself—her relationship with you remains sacred, undisturbed by the dalliances that occupy her days. Vision has become a separate chapter, a deviation from the norm, but he's not taking the place of what she's built with you over time. Every night, regardless of how late it gets or how entangled she becomes in her meetings with Vision, she finds herself retracing her steps back to you. Her days begin with your face, and they end with your arms around her. There's a routine in that, a certainty she clings to.

Being with Vision helps her forget she's even in Westview. She's less haunted by the child she couldn't have with you, by the job she left behind for your sake. She dwells less on missing you, on feeling like she's become a secondary character in your life as you work tirelessly to provide for her. And isn't that what marriage truly is? More than the vows and the rings, it's about choosing the same person every day. It's about finding ways not to hold grudges, to keep the bond strong, to maintain a balance, right?

Her friendship with Vision, devoid of the usual societal filters, feels pure. They share, they debate, they laugh. But as the sun sets, Wanda always knows where she belongs. 

To you. 

-

“You’re kidding.”

Vision glances back at her over his shoulder, flashing a playful grin. They're in a park just outside of town, a result of those spontaneous drives they occasionally take. They've found a quiet corner, a place where they can be with each other, away from the rules of their complicated lives. Him being her student makes everything that much more delicate.

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, looking pleased with himself.

Wanda puts down the essay she’s reviewing and leans back on the picnic blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You seriously want to buy art from the gallery?”

He shrugs, “I like what they showcase. Plus, I thought... well, it might be a good opportunity for you to earn a commission.”

It’s a weak argument and they both know it. She smirks, “Trying to impress someone?”

Vision pauses, taking a deep breath, serious as he says, “Maybe.”

Wanda sighs, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Vision, we need to be careful.”

“Careful? Wanda, we're miles away from Westview. I'd say we're being pretty meticulous about this.” He smirks, pointing to the tall trees that shield them from any possible onlookers. “With all these trees and not a bird in sight, we could even fuck right here in the open if we wanted to.”

Wanda fixes him with a sharp gaze, one that immediately conveys her disapproval. Immediately, the smirk fades from his lips, replaced by  a realization that he might have gone too far with his teasing. He reads the message in her eyes loud and clear. Not only is his suggestion off the table, but he also senses that he may have jeopardized his luck in the coming days.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, going back to his sketchpad. They don’t speak to each other for a while. Wanda is deeply engrossed in the essays she has to review, already behind the deadline she set for herself, while Vision gives her space to cool down from his mistake. Their arguments are always brief but intense, and lately, they haven't been leading to sex as often as Vision would prefer.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vision starts, “How is it, being with Y/N? Being married, I mean.”

Wanda stiffens at the mention of your name. She's never discussed you with Vision, and a surge of panic begins to rise within her. She hides her reaction by neatly rearranging the papers alphabetically in front of her. 

“I told you she’s off limits,” she answers a moment later.

Vision feigns surprise, tilting his head slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.

Wanda purses her lips, her posture tensing further. “Just... let's not go there.”

Vision nods, though he can't help but steal a quick glance at the wedding ring on her finger. It taunts him everytime he sees it, reminding him of the life she shares with someone else—a life he often finds himself yearning to be a part of. He's been daydreaming about a different reality, where Wanda is by his side not on borrowed time, where he is the one she turns to at the end of a long day.

He's persuaded her to share her thoughts with him, to spread her legs for him; how much more challenging could it be to win her heart next? He'll take it one day at a time if he has to. Patience is something he doesn't mind exercising.

Cleverly masking his intentions behind a facade of casual curiosity, Vision continues, “Hypothetically speaking, if you were to give insights on marriage, just in general...What are your thoughts?” He leans back, making the conversation seem casual, though every word is carefully calculated.

She glances at him, slightly suspicious but not fully alarmed. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh, you know," Vision waves his hand dismissively. “It's just something that's been on my mind lately. As a concept, I mean.”

Wanda narrows her eyes slightly, studying him. She knows Vision well enough to understand that behind his seemingly innocent inquiries, there's often an ulterior motive. But she also knows that he's persistent, and sometimes, the best way to deal with him is to play along, to a point.

“It’s…” Wanda finds herself grappling for an answer. She hadn’t expected that the answer would be much more complex now given recent events. She used to look at it in an idealized way, where marriage is what happens at the end of an epic love story, the banner over the path that the two main characters continue their journey on; the natural conclusion when people say 'happily ever after'.

Perhaps she's been wrong to view it that way all along. Perhaps marriage is just a tool to peel back the facade meticulously crafted during dating, for nothing remains hidden in marriage. To enforce a commitment that's always existed. To harness the rights it bestows between two individuals. To—

Wanda can list countless facets of marriage, and yet it wouldn’t change the way she feels about you, with or without it. She can change—she has, and marriage can vanish from the world, her love for you would persist unscathed. While every fiber of her being might be judged for her actions, she believes her love can’t be tainted. She’s sure of it. And so, essentially, marriage is—

“...it’s an indemnity.”

It’s not at all what he assumed she’d say. “An indemnity? That's an... interesting choice of word.”

Wanda nods, pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a thoughtful look. “Right. It's like our safety net, not just from what's out there but from our own doubts too. It's us saying to ourselves—and to anyone watching—that no matter how tough things get, we're in it together.  It's a promise that even in the darkest times, we'll stand by each other.”

Vision absorbs her words, trying to see the cracks, the spaces where he could insert doubt or lay the groundwork for his plans. “But don’t you think,” he ventures cautiously, “that sometimes, that very protection, that indemnity, becomes the chain that binds? Don’t you ever feel... trapped?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, sensing the subtext of his question. He has a knack for drawing out the very things she's trying so hard to keep from him. In the end, she still ends up talking about you. If he's truly eager to hear what she has to say about you, then Wanda doesn’t care if he won’t like what he hears.

“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Wanda says with a wry smile. “To assume she's the one trapping me would be a gross misunderstanding.”

He laughs for a long moment. It's loud and over the top, and somewhere in the midst of it, it begins to feel like an insult. Wanda lifts her chin, unfazed by his antics.

After a few moments, Vision's laughter subsides, replaced by a somber look. “I apologize,” he says, even as Wanda goes back to her readings. “I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. It's just... sometimes I feel like you're still lying to yourself, Wanda.”

Wanda's eyes narrow, her stance firm, but she doesn't rise to the bait immediately.  “How am I lying?”

There it is—his opening.

“Yes. Sometimes, I wonder if you're using these philosophical explanations as a way to protect yourself from confronting something deeper. Something you might not want to face,” he says.

She chuckles, but it's devoid of any real amusement. “And what might that be?”

“That maybe,” Vision says, crawling closer to her until they're just a breath away. “Maybe being with her isn't everything you once believed it to be.”

A retort forms on Wanda's lips, ready to be unleashed. But as she looks into Vision's eyes, she notices something genuine and disarming in them. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t need to defend yourself around me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. “You don't need to explain yourself. Not about this, not about anything.”

His lips find the curve of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine, making her sigh softly. 

“You can enjoy that,” he whispers against her skin, voice husky. His lips move upward, caressing her cheek before they meet hers. His hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer, until she’s on his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rides up her thighs, allowing him easy access to her dampening underwear.

Wanda shifts nervously. “Vision, we're in public,” she whispers sharply, but doesn’t make any move to get away from him.

His lips twitch into a confident smirk. “I know.” His fingers daringly slide beneath the hem of her skirt, edging towards her panties. “Don't worry,” he assures her, “I just wanted to see if your body tells the truth, even if your words might not.”

Her breath catches as his fingers find the growing wetness there. “See?” he murmurs, his mouth twisting into a boyish grin. “Your body doesn't lie.”

She enjoys it. To be brutally honest, without the haunting thought of your reaction if you were to find out, she concedes she savors their meetings. She’s attracted to him and it’s consuming her every thought. 

Wanda blushes furiously, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this, she’s surrendered to this wicked game. He doesn’t worship her like you do. He doesn’t try to make her feel like nothing is her fault the way you do. Why weren’t you disappointed that she couldn’t get pregnant? Couldn’t contribute to your household like equals? Why didn’t you agonize over the financial repercussions of her relentless quest to start a family with you?

Why won’t you ever, ever hate her?

It's twisted that she even thinks of you as she tilts her hips upwards, urging Vision to touch her just right.

Without warning, Vision plunges his long middle finger inside her, causing Wanda to gasp and grip onto him. The intimate intrusion is brief, and she barely has time to process the sensation when he withdraws, pushing her off his lap and onto the soft grass beside him. He holds his glistening finger up to the light, then brings it to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her. She watches, entranced, as he deliberately savors her taste.

Wanda’s chest rises and falls rapidly, every nerve in her body alive and buzzing. She feels exposed, laid bare both by his actions and by the force of her own arousal. There's a delicious humiliation in it, a thrill of being seen and wanted so openly.

But before she can get a chance to speak, Vision reaches into his pocket, producing an envelope thick with cash and hands it to her. She doesn't need to count it to know it's a significant amount.

“What the fuck is this?” Wanda asks, looking down at the cash in her hands.

He laughs again. He enjoys riling her up. Makes this all the more charged and exciting.

“It's for the painting from your old gallery,” Vision explains calmly. “Going back to that, yes, I want to purchase it. And that’s just 50% of my intended offer.”

Wanda reflects on all the support you've offered her, the financial aid you generously extended without ever demanding explanations. A portion of the money in the envelope—her future commission— could be a start, a way to repay some of the debts she owes you, even if it doesn't cover everything.

Not that you’ve ever asked her to pay you back. You’ve never once hinted at any imbalance in financial obligations in your relationship.

“I shouldn't take this,” she mumbles, yet her fingers clutch the envelope a little tighter.

“I want to,” he insists. “Although, I want a special request.”

Wanda's eyebrow arches in skepticism. “Which is?”

“A handwritten dedication from you, when the painting is delivered,” he replies.

She averts her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

Vision nods. “Keep the money while you do.”

-

Wanda starts leaving the house early too, going to her lover’s apartment before they go to the university together.

Vision sits comfortably on the plush couch, engrossed in his video game, his fingers swiftly moving over the controller. Wanda enters, shrugging off her light jacket, her simple, functional underwear visible from the thin material of her dress.

“You know, Wanda,” he begins casually, “Have you ever considered just... being in your natural state here?”

“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, helping herself to some tea.

“Your body is a work of art,” he replies, pausing the game now and turning to face her fully. “And as someone who appreciates art...” His gaze travels to her current choice of undergarments and back up to her eyes, leaving his sentence hanging.

“Are you suggesting I walk around here naked?”

He grins cheekily. “The thought did cross my mind.”

Wanda's cheeks flush. “That’s not happening.”

“Alright, maybe not that,” he relents with a mock sigh. “But perhaps wear something more... refined? Exquisite?” His emphasis on 'exquisite' draws a clear line between what she currently wears and what he's suggesting. 

She's always prided herself on being confident, knowing her worth. But Vision’s playful, yet sharp suggestion chips away at her armor just a bit. For a split second, she wonders if this is how he truly sees her. If her choice of underwear, something so personal and intimate, is a reflection of her self-worth in his eyes. It's crazy to let his comment get to her; she's aware of that. But she can't help but think of you, of the intimate times you both share, the mornings she finds herself waking up beside you, and the nights you take off her clothes.

Do you notice? She wonders. Do you think the same?

It's all these tiny moments, insignificant on their own, but together they build a narrative in her mind. A story where maybe you don't desire her as you once did. That thought affects her more than Vision's words. The insecurity, an old nemesis she thought she had left far behind, resurfaces.

Wanda forces a nonchalant smile. “Why don't you mind your own business, and focus on your own wardrobe choices?” she retorts, but there's a lack of her usual sharpness in her tone.

He snickers, going back to his game. She hopes you don't see her the way he does. 

-

She buys a new set of lingerie—for you.

-

Wanda decides she’ll do it by the end of the week. Determined to finalize the sale, she picks up the phone while dinner simmers on the stove. With you still out, Sparky remains her only companion, and a pang of guilt strikes her for having neglected him lately.

She dials the gallery. After a few rings, the familiar voice perkily answers. “Hello?”

“Agatha, it's Wanda,” she says. “About the painting I texted you earlier. My buyer is all in.”

“There's already a bid on it,” Agatha interrupts, “with a deposit ready to go. But if you can secure the painting by tomorrow at the latest, it’s yours to sell.”

“Thanks. I'll make it happen.”

Only after hanging up does she understand that she'll need your help to ensure everything goes smoothly. The next morning, she broaches the subject, and, thankfully, doesn’t have to jump through many hoops to convince you. She loathes bending the truth about the gallery's closing hours, but she's pressed to secure the painting promptly.

Of course, you're there for her again. You even go as far as to offer her lunch, but she has to decline; she genuinely has an appointment with the dean. She reluctantly agrees to dinner, already having said yes to Vision to visit the Museum of Modern Art, where he's also set to give her the remaining 50% for the painting.

“We can have dinner,” Wanda proposes tentatively. “Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?” It’s tiring to drive back and forth like Manhattan isn’t at least one and a half hours away without traffic, but she wants to spend time with you, and thank you for your effort.

“I'll pick you up at seven,” you say. “It's a date.”

She's excited, but deep down she's aware of the tight schedule. It would be nothing short of a miracle if Vision gets her back to Westview on time.

-

Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. She's relieved that you're amenable and just texts to ask her what time she’ll be home.

-

When she gets her hands on the painting, it takes her a long time to think of a dedication message. Truthfully, writing heartfelt letters has never been her strong suit; she struggles to articulate her feelings. But as she contemplates her feelings for Vision, she draws a blank.  She considers simply thanking him for engaging her in conversations she hasn't had with anyone in so long, conveniently omitting their other indulgences. At the same time, she doesn’t want to leave a piece of herself behind, not even something as trivial as a personal dedication.

So she settles on a quote:

‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’  - W

On a particular plane, it speaks to her. It's a phrase that mirrors the fundamental human longing for significance and a sense of purpose—something she has unknowingly let slip along the way.

-

Surprisingly, Vision appears content with the note. Wanda doesn't bother to inquire about his thoughts on it. He doesn't make a spectacle of his appreciation for the painting either, and it becomes apparent that he's indulging in a fantasy from some porno, where an older woman brings him something before he takes her to bed.

The sex is always intoxicating in its own messy way, now that she’s ready to admit she’s not after perfection whenever she comes to him. She doesn’t go to him because there’s something wrong with you. It might be because something is wrong with her, but there isn’t really any room to psychoanalyze her own mental state when she’s being taken from behind, facing a full length mirror. As pleasure builds, her eyes roll back, she briefly toys with the idea that she might be harboring deeper feelings for him. 

Then, out of the blue, a red flash catches her eye, but with two quick blinks, it vanishes.

“What’s that?” Wanda whispers, momentarily distracted before a moan escapes her lips.

“What?” he mutters distractedly, pulling her hair, when her head starts to droop. 

But before Wanda can form a coherent thought, he adjusts, lifting one of her legs and shifting his angle. With a few deliberate thrusts, she's spiraling into an overwhelming climax. And as pleasure washes over her, any lingering thoughts of deeper feelings for him evaporates along with the haze of lust.

Later, she would brush aside the memory of that brief red flash as she stealthily slipped into your shared home, careful not to disturb Sparky, who slept soundly. With a day off scheduled for tomorrow, she had completely lost track of time, fooling around a couple more times with a college kid.

-

“D-Did I hurt you?”

Right this second, Wanda feels like she'd welcome the ground opening up to take her or a random bullet finding its mark in her heart. Anything, if it would end her anguish. 

She watches your face crumple with guilt and hurt, and she can't believe she's caused you to feel this way when you’re just aching for her. 

Without missing a beat, Wanda draws you into an embrace, feeling your heart race against her chest. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way,” she whispers. The mere thought of you second-guessing your intentions with her shatters her heart.

You lean into her completely, feeling like a child in her arms. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, and I thought... I thought we were on the same page.”

Wanda insists it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She desires closeness with you, but she hadn't expected it to make her feel so uneasy beneath her skin, especially considering she had been touched by another less than 24 hours ago. She has to remind herself that you aren't aware. But she knows, and it plagues her mind, why you’d want to touch her.

Your reply, soaked in typical selflessness, is, “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Your apology, the earnestness in your tone is starting to make her feel dizzy. The fact that you feel this way, that she has led you to question your privilege—something she has always granted you—to touch her, is agonizing.

“Stop saying you're sorry,” Wanda snaps, her words sharper than she intends, fervently hoping that you understand her outburst isn't aimed at you. “You do everything right. It's me. I've missed you too, more than you can possibly imagine.”

When you softly say, “I love you,” it's filled with so much emotion that it brings tears to Wanda's eyes. It takes her too long to respond with an “I love you, too,” because there’s many more she wants to say. And she can’t say it without revealing the one thing that she fears will drive you away. 

She can only hope that you believe her because she means it more than anything.

-

Wanda can't pinpoint exactly when she developed the habit of locking the bathroom door. It likely started around the time Vision would text her, innocently asking about her lectures. Then, one day, she received a short video clip of him pleasuring himself and moaning her name. She promptly deleted the clip, but from that point on, she learned to check her messages at home only when she was about to step into the shower.

-

Natasha visits and something inside Wanda unfurls itself. She becomes hyper-aware of her activities with Vision, how she conducts them and where. Before relocating to New Jersey, you mentioned that Natasha had taken an open-ended break from her job, suggesting she might be ready to leave her old life behind. Still, she’s uneasy when she learns about it too late, and Natasha’s already outside, waiting to be let into the house.

You're still in your office attire, donning a pristine suit that would have captured her attention for the entire evening, if not for the fact that she's on the verge of breaking down at the mere thought of you discovering her affair with Vision.

“Why didn't you tell me she was coming?” she snaps, gesturing at the dinner table set for two and the disorderly state of their living room. Her eyes dart to a stack of her students' reaction papers lying exposed on the coffee table, and the unkempt pillows. To you, it might seem trivial, but to Wanda, every small detail could give away something she'd rather keep private.

“You could've at least warned me,” she continues, her tone reflecting more than just her concerns about dinner and the state of the living room, but you fail to catch it. You try to help, reaching out to straighten the living room, but she's too frazzled. Seeing the frustrated look on your face, she can't help but feel cornered. She hastily scatters the pillows about, her movement nothing short of hysterical. 

Sensing that things might take a worse turn than they should, you make the decision to be the one to step back.

“If it's too much trouble for you, we can just grab dinner elsewhere,” you suggest, struggling not to lose your own patience. 

She can't help but throw you a sharp look, feeling as though your words only made things worse. The mere idea of you and Natasha, alone, maybe sharing stories or opinions about her, feels threatening. But there’s nothing she can do but hope you will veer away from talking about her, that you won’t confide in Natasha how you haven’t had sex in months.

“Fine,” she snaps and quickly retreats up the stairs. “Send my regards to Natasha,” she throws over her shoulder, the guest bedroom door shutting loudly behind her.

She sighs heavily, pressing her back to the door, heart racing. From the window, she sees you walk back to the car, your frustration evident in every step. Natasha looks at you with that questioning glance Wanda knows all too well. She watches as you speak before handing Natasha the car keys.

She gazes up at the ceiling, determined to hold back the tears that are on the verge of spilling. She doesn't want to push you away, but her fear of Natasha, and what might be revealed, leaves her feeling trapped.

-

Out of frustration, she calls Vision, and they meet in his car, about two blocks from their house.

In the cramped confines of the backseat, Vision is quick to slide into her, the condom barely in place before he's thrusting with a fervor.

She peaks once, but not from him being inside her. She's too tense, too tightly wound for that. So Vision, realizing this, drops to his knees to truly bring her over the edge.

-

Later, Wanda lies on her side, every muscle tense, acutely aware of the presence beside her, all the while pretending to be deep in sleep.

“She used to crash at our place almost every week,” you murmur into the stillness.

A hint of irritation passes through Wanda, though she can't really tell why. “What?” she asks, her voice low and weary.

“Natasha,” you specify. “I didn't think to mention it because it was just our norm. She'd drop by unannounced all the time.”

You want to have a conversation about it, to work through this issue. She knows how you’ve been trying to give her space, thinking she hasn’t adjusted yet to life in Westview. You’re always thinking about her. Always putting her needs first above yours.

And Wanda can see how it’s worn you down, how you're starting to doubt your own logical reasoning, and how you're piecing together facts to present your case, hoping for her to be more receptive and listen. She despises the fact that she's putting you through all of this, merely because she's determined to prevent her different worlds from colliding.

She can sense you searching her face, looking for answers, trying to understand the wall she’s erected between you too. It’s so tall now, casting a shadow over both of you. 

“Wands?”

“Baby?” you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. “Please?” 

Wanda resists the urge to turn toward you and pull you into her arms. She knows that if she does, the tears will flow uncontrollably, and she understands that you won't let her keep her troubles to herself. She composes herself, letting out a shuddering sigh.

“We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep.”

You give into her wishes, because you will always give her what she wants.  She extends her hand, delicately interlocking your fingers with hers. It's the smallest gesture she can manage. She pretends not to hear you, feel you shake, as you cry on your own.

-

She'd planned to watch the movie alone, in the middle of the day. So, when Vision discreetly takes the seat next to her, Wanda stiffens. A few others are scattered in the front rows of the dark theater, chatting softly as they munch on popcorn.

Without turning to face him, she whispers accusingly, “Are you stalking me?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd catch a movie. Pure coincidence.”

“You hate cinemas,” she counters.

He chuckles softly. “Maybe I'm learning to appreciate them.”

​​She’s about to retort when she feels a gentle touch on her hip. Wanda's muscles tense under his soft fingers as they start tracing the curve of her waist, moving slowly downwards, caressing her thigh. Her breath hitches, and she turns sharply to face him.

“What are you doing?”

Vision just smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Thought you might want to spice up the afternoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes. “I'm not in the mood, Vision. Hands off.”

His laugh is a bit too loud, drawing “shhhs” and glares from the front row. Seeing him unmoved by the stares, Wanda huffs and stands up, making it clear she's moving seats. As she shimmies past him, Vision's hand snakes out, gripping her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, eyes serious. “I promise to behave.”

She hesitates, looking at him skeptically. Finally, with a sigh, she slides back into her seat. For the most part, Vision keeps his promise. They sit in silence, engrossed in the movie, but Wanda can't help but notice Vision's restlessness. Twice, he excuses himself, claiming he needs the restroom. She can't help but wonder what he's really up to, but she refrains from asking. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to know.

Later, when they step out of the theater, they're greeted by the aftermath of a rainstorm. Puddles dot the pavement, making it tricky for Wanda in her heels. Vision holds out his hand, and she takes it, especially when she almost trips trying to leap over a particularly large puddle. 

For some reason, she suddenly feels like she's being watched. From the corner of her eye, she spots the black SUV, parked in the same spot as when she arrived at the cinema. But before she can give it more thought, Vision pulls her towards a bookstore, quickly diverting her attention. She brushes off the odd sensation, attributing it to anxiety since the theater she picked is quite far from town.

-

Wanda stares, open mouthed and shocked, as Vision shows her his final project for her course.

It's a charcoal drawing on canvas featuring a nude woman, with only her mouth visible, reclining on a bench. Wanda doesn't need a second glance to realize that the woman in the painting is her. From the curve of her jaw to the birthmark on her left hip and down to the fold of her knees, the resemblance is remarkable. 

There's no way she can allow him to submit this.

His audacity to draw her in such an intimate manner without her consent leaves her momentarily speechless. She briefly wonders what other liberties he’s taken without her permission.

“What the hell is this?” Wanda questions in barely contained rage.

Vision smirks, arrogance dripping from every word. “It's you, obviously. Pretty accurate, don't you think?”

She clenches her fists, anger rising. “You had absolutely no right. This is beyond inappropriate. What were you thinking?”

Leaning against the table, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I was thinking about how hot you were and I wanted to immortalize it.”

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively. “This was private, between us. How could you think it's okay to make it public?”

“I thought you liked when I took control,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Wanda feels like throwing up. “This isn't a game,” she snaps. “You can't just use our personal moments as fodder for your projects!”

“You never seemed to mind before.”

Wanda replies sharply, “There's a difference between us being together in private and you broadcasting it to the world.”

He squares his shoulders, firming up his stance. “Maybe I wanted them to see.”

“To see what exactly?” Wanda yells, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable. 

“How good we are together,” he says. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding, Wanda. Ever thought of that?”

Wanda's mind races, a thousand thoughts crashing into one another. She's always been able to control the narrative, always had the situation in her grip. But now, Vision's defiance, his blatant challenge, terrifies her. The realization that Vision could, and possibly would, spill their secret terrifies her more than she thought possible. For the first time, she's faced with the real possibility of losing everything she holds dear. Of losing you.

“So, what's it going to be, Professor?” Vision challenges, towering over her in a display of intimidation. “Should I submit this, or maybe...” his voice drops to a whisper, “show it to your wife?”

She grits her teeth, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Destroy it. Now.”

Vision grins, leaning in closer until their faces are inches apart. “Make me.”

“Vis—”

Vision's lips crush down on hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hand clamps around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. It’s fervent, consuming, and fueled by a hunger she hasn't felt from him before. Her brain screams at her to resist, to push him away, to regain control of this spiraling situation. She shoves at his chest, her nails digging in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, which she denies him.

In her mounting frustration, she raises her hand and slaps him hard across the face. Vision barely flinches, his gaze never leaving hers. His determination only fans the flames of her anger further, but beneath it all simmers an irrefutable want. Without a word, Vision's hands descend to her waist, deftly unbuttoning and pushing down her pants and off her legs. She makes quick work of his belt, discarding them recklessly to the side.

As he inches closer, his breath hot on her ear, Vision murmurs, “Say it, Wanda… say 'I want you to fuck me’.”

She can feel the solid length of him pressing against her, and despite her anger, the way he slowly gyrates his hips makes her weak. She draws a shaky breath, the words stuck in her throat. It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have this much power on her. 

He moves in, his lips trailing down her neck, as his hands find their way around her waist, pulling her in even closer. “Say it,” he murmurs again.

“I want you to... fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice breaking into a whiny plea that she would never have believed she could utter, especially under these circumstances. 

His response is immediate. Before she can fully register what's happening, he has her lifted, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a sharp thrust, he's inside her, filling her completely. While Vision usually found his release before she did, this time was different. She notices he's holding back, which confuses her. Why would he? Especially now. Wanda, lost in the sensation of him inside her, is curious but also a little apprehensive. 

She soon realizes why. His fingers find her clit, rubbing it in a rough, almost painful manner that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Come on,” he urges, almost impatiently, his voice strained.

She feels herself spiraling, the coil inside her tightening. His cock angles and adjusts, targeting her sweet spot, making her clench around him. The slickness between them grows, and his fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, pressing, rubbing, coaxing her closer and closer.

“I'm gonna... I'm coming,” she warns, feeling the walls of her pussy fluttering.

And then she feels it—the unmistakable warmth, the pulsing. Her eyes widen in realization as Vision buries himself deeper, releasing inside her. 

“No!” Wanda screams silently, the sounds failing to escape her throat as the knowledge that he's come unprotected pushes her further into her own climax. Her instinct is to flee, to pull away from him, but Vision's grip is ironclad. He feels her panic and responds with more pressure on her clit, manipulating the nub with determined fingers. Each stroke sends her further into ecstasy, locking her in place as his other arm wraps around her waist, preventing any escape.

“Stay,” he murmurs into her ear, his voice filled with a possessiveness that she's never heard before. As he continues to spurt inside her, their hips still weakly grinding against one another, the reality of the situation dawns on her. He didn't use protection. He could—he could get her—

Terror claws at Wanda's insides. Was this all premeditated? Had he planned to trap her like this? She struggles to pull away, but Vision holds her even tighter, keeping her pressed against him as the last of his release fills her. He languidly rests his forehead against Wanda's shoulder, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow. When he finally dares to look at her, he expects to see anger or fury or maybe even forgiveness. Instead, he's met with wide, bloodshot eyes swimming with tears that violently spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.

His smugness dissipates and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wanda?”

She chokes on her tears, desperately trying to speak. “Did you—did you do this on purpose?” Using every ounce of strength she can summon, she pushes him away, stumbling slightly as her legs threaten to give out. Hastily, she starts grabbing her clothes.

Vision, looking lost for once, reaches out, but she recoils away from his touch.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Wanda, please. Let's talk about this.”

As Wanda attempts to regain her balance, she can feel the telltale wetness slide down her inner thighs. The physical evidence of their tryst, the proof of Vision's seed making its way out of her, sends a sharp pang of revulsion through her. Her hand moves instinctively, trying to wipe away the residue, a feeble attempt to erase the aftermath—or perhaps the entirety of their history. Her vision blurs as tears continue to stream down her face, her breathing jagged. Vision, looking both remorseful and lost, reaches out in an attempt to console her, but she flinches at the barest contact of his fingertips.

“Please, at least let me drive you to—”

“To where?” she spits out, her voice mocking. “Home? To my...? I can't—not now.”

Vision's eyes widen, and suddenly he looks much younger.

“Wanda,” he starts, voice shaky and eyes beginning to tear up, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't think… I-It’ll never happen again.”

But the pitiable sight of him, looking scared and unsure, only adds fuel to the fire. “You think a simple 'sorry' is enough?”

The door is her escape, and she's quick to reach it. As she’s about to leave, he whimpers, almost begging, “Please don't go. I... I'm sorry.”

But she's done. With one final, withering glance, she exits, leaving the door to swing shut behind her. 

-

While Wanda waits for her period to come, she can't focus on anything else. She feels disoriented during the day, and it keeps her awake at night. 

In her world, everything's spiraling into a fragmented mess, like a vintage vinyl record that's been smashed to bits. 

She tosses out reading assignments like candy at a twisted parade, tells the kids to scribble down essays. For them, it's almost like a holiday. For Wanda, it's a desperate lifeline. By the window, she stands. Watching. Waiting. But not really seeing anything. Vision's eyes, burning into her, but she never meets his gaze. She hasn't been responding to his texts or calls, discarding them immediately without even opening them. The classroom exit strategy is always the same: blend in with the herd, avoid the predator. She doesn't give him even the slightest opportunity to get her alone.

Home should be her fortress. Instead, it's like quicksand. Sparky, always eager for her attention, brings toys to her feet, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. But her patience is thin, and she finds herself shooing him outside, much to the dog's confusion. She's been bringing home takeout repeatedly, and the repetition isn't lost on you. While you never openly complain, she notices when you start to take the reins, cooking dinner, a quiet acknowledgment of her current state.

She waits and waits—a ghost haunting a lover, a home, a school, a town, waiting for salvation.

-

She’s more than a week late for her period when she (terrifyingly) decides to buy a pregnancy test kit. Wanda clutches her coat tighter around herself, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside, she avoids making eye contact, moving purposefully towards the aisle she's dreading. As her fingers wrap around a pregnancy test kit, her heart hammers in her chest. With the box safely tucked inside her bag, she hurries back home, sneaking glances over her shoulder, feeling as though the world knows her secret.

When she arrives home, she pretends as if she had simply stopped by the grocery store. She musters a smile as she begins to prepare dinner, maintaining a light and cheerful conversation with you. You savor her food as if it were your last meal, showering her with compliments like a discerning food critic, which brings a slight chuckle from Wanda. You peck her lips when you’re finished, thanking her for it. For a while, it seems like everything is back to normal, and that nothing will shatter the illusion that she’s still living her happily-ever-after with you.

She waits, counting the minutes, ensuring you're deep in sleep before she tiptoes into the bathroom. She reads the instructions multiple times, her eyes scanning over each word as if hoping they'd change. It's as though she hasn’t been through this ritual numerous times before, back when her deepest desire was to bear your child. The irony isn't lost on her: in just a few months, she's transitioned from yearning for a baby to fervently hoping she isn't pregnant.

Finally gathering enough courage, she rips the packaging. Just get it over with, Wanda muses. The minutes that follow feel like hours. The silence is suffocating, the potential consequences bearing down on her. She jumps at the slightest noise, every creak of the floorboards or rustle of sheets convincing her that you've woken up.

The alarm on her phone finally goes off, signaling that it's time. With bated breath, she looks down at the test, her world teetering on the brink of change.

-

She’s hidden the pregnancy test deep in the trash bin, concealed under tissues and other refuse. It’s the middle of the night, and she ensured it is further out of sight by taking the trash outside.

As the initial relief floods through her, it is swiftly replaced by a profound sense of shame. She sits curled up on the couch, hugging her knees, desperately wishing to escape from herself and her crimes. She realizes, with a piercing clarity, that she can't compartmentalize or keep secrets when it comes to you, because you're not just a part of her life—you are her life. The mere thought of you finding out fills her with a terror so profound, she's left gasping for breath. She'd rather face any consequence, even death, than watch the love fade from your eyes, replaced by hurt, anger, and betrayal.

She loves you, but Wanda doesn’t—she doesn’t know what to do, how to move forward. 

But in the midst of her life falling apart, an unexpected sentiment finds its way to the forefront: hope. 

A fragile, quivering kind of hope. Wanda's lips twitch, trembling as they pull into a weak smile. Maybe the universe is giving her a second chance. Maybe her not being pregnant is a sign, a way out. It's as if fate is holding out a lifeline, imploring her to take it and mend the fractures in her life. With renewed determination, she silently promises herself that she'll devote every bit of her being to you. She knows she can't change the past, but she believes, fervently, in the possibility of a future where she remains true, where she will never stray again.

Still, the weight of her deeds anchors her to the couch, each sob a violent reminder that she's the villain in her own story. And that’s how you find her, in the dark living room, crying and blaming a nonexistent movie for being in such a mess.

“Wanda?”

She looks up and every cell in her body threatens to crumble. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing away the tears.

“Have you been crying?”

“Just a movie,” she lies still, “You know how emotional they make me.”

You smile, your eyes full of that nurturing love. “My big crybaby.” Wanda can't believe a pregnancy scare was what it took to finally wake her up.

Looking into your eyes, a surge of need overtakes her. She longs to claim you, to solidify her stake, and leave no doubt in your mind about where her heart truly lies. She wants to show you just how much she loves you, to make up for all the times she has strayed. 

She doesn't hesitate. Before she fully processes her actions, she's on top of you, her weight pinning you down, her eyes blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume. “Take off your shorts,” her voice trembles. Your obedient response sends a thrill through her, but she's barely registered the progress you've made before she's swiping a teasing finger, tasting the essence that's uniquely yours. She watches, entranced, as a shiver runs through you, your voice shaky with desire. 

“Patience, baby.” 

She barely shakes her head, lips parted. “Don't have any.”

And then she's tasting you, each slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue designed to drive both of you mad. Your body responds fervently, and she can sense your need building, mirroring her own desperate longing. “Please, Wanda, more…” Your whisper is a plea she can't resist. Her lips part to take in more of you, savoring the intoxicating flavor that she had missed so much. 

“I've missed you so much, Y/N,” she says, deliriously lost in your pleasure. “I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you…” She doesn't quite realize the hints she's dropping, but she doesn't care. This moment is real, and she wants it to be as honest as it can be.

Lifting your legs, Wanda applies gentle pressure, pushing them back until they're almost touching the couch cushions on either side of your head. The sight of you, so openly displayed for Wanda, sends a rush of heat and desire through her core. She can feel the power she has, not just from the position but from the trust placed in her to have you in such a vulnerable state. It feels so good, being this close to you. How could she have ever desired anything else when she had this all along?

Wanda pauses for a moment, mouth watering, her eyes hungrily tracing the sight before her. She senses a slight shift, seeing your eyes flit away, perhaps overwhelmed. But Wanda can't allow that retreat. Gently cradling your face, she guides those eyes she loves back, sealing their return home to her with a tender, grounding kiss.

“I love you,” she breathes against your lips.

You smile up at her. “I love you. More than you could ever know.”

Wanda shuts her eyes, letting your reassurance wash over her. Nothing lasts forever, but perhaps this could be an exception.

[meangirls-imagines]

Frat Parties Suck

Description: It's basically that episode of SLOCG where Leighton and Alicia kiss for the first time but reader replaces Alicia.

WARNINGS: leighton being a gay mess, reader getting beat up, love confessions, fluff

leighton was extremely nervous.

not for her brother or his fraternity. no, she didn't really care about them. she was nervous because the girl she had been pining over for the last two weeks was going to said frat to "inspect" it. 

she met y/n after she got assigned community service for underage drinking and vandalism (that she thinks if she doesn't remember it happening, it didn't happen). the president of the school didn't take too kindly to that and sent leighton to the campus women's center.

her and y/n butt heads the second they met. leighton thought she was too good for the women's center and tried to bribe y/n but the girl wasn't having it. by the end of their first conversation, leighton was storming out of the building pissed off and turned on. y/n was hot as shit. 

the weeks went by and somehow some way, the blonde managed to kinda weasel her way into y/n's life. she had been making y/n smile more than yell so she thought she was getting somewhere.

and then the frat party came up.

while going through clothes they were going to donate, towa brought up the plan of the group going to a drag brunch, leighton politely declined, stating that theta was throwing a huge party. the group went silent and leighton looked confused. she smiled at them. "why is everyone so quiet? did i say something triggering again?"

y/n spoke up. "i get that your brother is in theta, but frats can be extremely sexist, toxic nightmares. we have been campaigning to get rid of greek life for over a year." leighton sighed. i know frats get a bad rep but theta actually does good. they just finished a construction project in mexico." y/n scoffed. "yeah, for the bar that they burned down."

leighton sighed again. "okay, maybe they aren't perfect but have any of you actually been to a frat party?" silence. the blonde grinned. "so we're making a judgmental assumption?" leighton smiled at y/n who smiled back. "you're right. i mean we shouldn't be judging theta until we go to one of their parties." leighton nodded, satisfied with how the conversation went.

"so maybe we should all go tonight."

leighton shot it down instantly. "no! you guys have your super fun....plans." y/n shook her head. "no, we are going to give theta a chance to prove us wrong. send me the invite." y/n crossed her arms and leighton shamelessly stared at the girl's biceps. 

i wonder how they would feel around my ne-

"leighton, you still with us?"

the blonde nodded. "yup. invite. i will send it."

leighton stood next to her brother, impressed with how fast theta changed gears for the party. "we got rid of any and all triggers." the blonde smiled at nico. "yeah, it looks good. i don't think there's anything that the women's center will hate." speak of the devil(s), ginger, towa and the rest of the women's center crew walked in, sans y/n. nico offered to show the girls around as leighton let out a breath, sighing deeply.

then, like something out of a movie, y/n walked in, sighing. leighton felt like she was going to pass out at how hot the girl looked. she wasn't dressed too fancy, a hoodie and some jeans, but leighton felt like she couldn't breathe. y/n smiled at the girl, walking towards her. "so, tonight is going to be a shit show isn't it?" 

leighton laughed. "oh yeah. um, do you want a drink?" y/n laughed. "oh, i already pregamed in the driveway but yeah, let's keep drinking shall we?" leighton giggled and led the way to the drinks.

tonight was going to be a long night.

nico was in the middle of explaining how parties worked at theta before y/n cut him off. "you can calm down nico, i know you think that i'm some big, scary lesbian protester or something." nico laughed a little. "i did not know you were a lesbian. it would be rude of me to assume that." leighton rolled her eyes. "nico. less. please." nico straightened up as y/n laughed. "dude, i'm just here to have a good time. now, will you please hold my feet for a keg stand?"

nico looked shocked and then smirked. "only if you hold mine afterwards." both girls looked at him blankly before he whispered. "equality." leighton shook her head before spotting cory. "oh look, it's cory, i'm going to go and talk to him." she left without another word as y/n and nico went to the keg.

after dominating all the games with nico, y/n found leighton outside nursing a drink. "hey." leighton looked up and smiled at y/n. "hey. heard you and nico kicked ass. congrats." y/n chuckled. "all in a day's work." y/n glanced behind her and saw a trash can overflowing with sombreros. "uh, why are there so many sombreros in that trash can?" leighton winced. "i think that they ditched some of the more problematic elements of the party when they heard we were coming and by problematic i mean deeply, deeply racist." 

y/n laughed as leighton saw kimberly frantically waving at her from behind y/n. "um, i will be right back, it looks like my roommate needs me for something." y/n nodded. "i get it, i'll be here." leighton smiled shyly and headed toward kimberly.

leighton wasn't gone for five minutes before nico came running towards her and her roommates. "nico? are you good?" nico was panting. "you gotta come with me. it's y/n. some dude called her a dyke and she said something back and then he just started beating the shit out of her."

leighton's heart dropped to her stomach. she took off running in the direction nico came and found the group of people that had gathered. she pushed through the crowd and gasped at the sight of y/n. her face was covered in blood thanks to the gash above her eyebrow. it also didn't help that her nose was bleeding. leighton could already imagine the shiner y/n was going to have tomorrow.

she rushed to the beaten girl's side, gently cupping her face. "y/n? can you hear me?" the girl softly groaned, covering leighton's hand with her own. leighton sighed in relief. nico kneeled on the other side of the girl, ordering his frat brothers to get rid of the guy. "leighton we have to take her to the hospital." that's when y/n spoke. "no..no hospital." it was slurred but leighton was able to make out what the girl said. 

leighton sighed. the best thing would be to take y/n to the hospital but she also didn't want to go against the girl's wishes. she stood, making a decision. "no. we're taking her to my dorm."

an hour later, thanks to nico, leighton and y/n made their way back to the blonde's dorm. the girls had gone out to get some stuff to help maintain y/n's injuries since the first aid kit kimberly had wasn't going to be enough. leighton was grateful that her and y/n had some alone time. thanking nico for helping her, she grabbed a washcloth she had in her room and a water bottle, using it to wet the towel.

she gently began wiping the drying blood off the girl's face, being careful of the cuts that littered her skin. y/n groaned a little before leighton gently shushed her. "shhh, you're okay y/n. you're safe." y/n groaned again, grabbing leighton's hand that was cleaning her face. "mmm..leighton. my face hurts." 

the blonde's heart broke and she took a risk. she gently kissed y/n's forehead, letting her lips linger. "i know, the girls are getting you some stuff to take care of that okay? they'll be here soon." y/n moaned in pain as leighton began to gently wipe her face again.

the girls soon returned and allowed leighton to finish cleaning y/n up. they all checked in on the girl before bela went to hang out in kimberly and whitney's room. leighton sat next to a cleaned up y/n, running her fingers through the girl's hair. y/n smiled at the contact. she pulled the blonde to lay next to her. "you know, i hear cuddles from a pretty girl are the best medicine." leighton giggled before making herself comfortable on y/n's chest. 

the two laid in silence before leighton spoke up. "i was so scared. seeing you like that. i didn't think you were going to get up and there was so much blood and-" y/n shushed her, pulling the blonde closer to her. "i'm okay leight. i'm here aren't i? i have the hottest nurse taking care of me too." leighton laughed before sitting up and looking at y/n. 

y/n noticed leighton's eyes shining in a way she hadn't seen before. it was like y/n hung the moon and the stars. she couldn't stop herself from gently cupping leighton's cheek, rubbing the girl's cheekbone with her thumb. leighton couldn't take it anymore. she leaned down and slowly placed her lips on y/n's.

fireworks went off in y/n's head as she kissed the girl back. all this time, she thought leighton was straight. just a common, cis blonde woman. boy was she wrong. the two kissed for a little longer then leighton pulled away. y/n looked shocked. "woah. i was really wrong about you." leighton chuckled before leaning in again. 

"shut up."

[ame-perduexx]

Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

[chrissv4mp]

i'll love you 'til the day that i die! MATT S.

summary: you and matt have been frenemies since the 8th grade. when you both go to homecoming, you get picked for homecoming queen, and chris is your king. matt can't help but storm outside of the school angrily.

pairing: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings/topics: arguments, vulgar language, fluff, sorta angst, confessions, highschool au, etc.

a/n: LOVE THIS SONG SMSMSMS also this probably makes no sense towards the end cause i was purely running on 2 bottles of water😖

"matt," you exclaimed, running into his room without any warning.

he jumped a little, eyes snapping toward the direction of his bedroom door.

you took a seat at his desk, pushing yourself toward his bed with your feet before spinning around to face him.

"why do you have so much energy this early in the morning?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up a few minutes ago.

"cause, i just got big news? and, sorry for being so happy to see you?" you joked, rolling your eyes and leaning back in the chair.

matt hummed in curiosity, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look better, "and what's the news?"

you almost couldn't stay still, changing the way you were sitting every moment or so.

"i got nominated for homecoming queen!" you all but yelled, making matt flinch slightly at the loud noise.

his smile was small, but very smug as if he was gonna say something to bring you down.

he could never shut his mouth whenever you brought up something good that happened to you, he always had to one-up you.

"cool, cool, but i've gotten nominated for homecoming king like years in a row. it's nothing big to be nominated once," he shrugged, keeping direct eye contact with you and watching as your face contorted into a subtle look of sadness.

your frown was small, and if matt hadn't been the one to trigger it, then he probably wouldn't have noticed.

he always did this, and you should've been used to it by now. but, god, did matt know how to push your buttons.

"yeah, well, i didn't see your name on there this time. you're not someone special, y'know?" you laughed, trying to hide your frustration.

matt's grin only widened at your words, "huh. well, it'll be there by tonight. those girls can't resist my charm, not even you, y/n."

"shut up. nobody wants a homecoming king that's an asshole to every girl he meets." you groaned, crossing your arms over each other.

"maybe, but you're the only girl i dislike at the school." matt bit back, leaning against his headboard as he stared you down.

you let out a quiet huff, looking around his room and letting your eyes land on the corkboard he had on the wall opposite his closet.

there were letters, pictures, and polaroids of all of his friends. and in one corner, there was a polaroid of you and him at the beach.

there was writing below it, 'i want u to stay 'till i'm in the grave<3' it was in dark blue sharpie.

your lips upturned into a small smile. he didn't hate you. he never really could, even if he tried.

"doesn't seem like you dislike me," you broke the silence, pointing over at the board.

matt's smile dropped, and his face flushed a soft pink color as he sat up straight. "just get out, would you!"

you giggled to yourself as you got off his chair, not forgetting to give him the middle finger before closing his door and walking back down the hall.

nick looked up from the sink as he heard your footsteps walking past the kitchen, turning around to look at you.

"bye, y/n," he smiled softly, waving over at you and accidently splashing water on the kitchen counter.

"see you later, nick," you smiled, waving back before resuming your walk down the stairs and out of the house.

"birds of a feather," chris said, breaking the silence between the four of you.

nick raised an eyebrow, looking to the side to see if chris was talking to him.

the younger boy was pointing over at you and matt, at the opposite end of the booth you all were sitting at.

"what?" matt laughed over the loud chatter of the cafeteria, crossing his arms before looking over at you.

you were confused just as he was, staring over at chris with an unsure look on your face, "right... and what are you yapping on about this time?"

chris looked dumbfounded, staring at the three of you in disbelief as he scoffed, "you guys seriously don't know that saying? i thought you were older than me."

"by, like, 2 seconds?" nick said, leaning on the table as he picked at the cafeteria food with a plastic fork.

chris punched his brother softly, rolling his eyes before explaining, "birds of a feather flock together, it basically means you guys are alike in one way or another."

matt laughed, looking over at you before giving his attention back to chris, "we are nothing alike, trust me. she's horrible at communicating, and i'm amazing at it. i'm popular. she's not."

"yeah, he's stupid, and i'm smart. remind me how we're alike, again?" matt looked away at your remark, silently mocking you.

"look at your outfits right now, if i didn't know any better i would think you guys are matching." chris pointed out, nodding his head in your direction.

nick nodded, "he's right, you guys look like a couple."

both yours and matts face flushed bright pink, and you looked seperate ways, embarrassment washing over the two of you.

"yeah, more like a couple of friends." you forced out, looking back up at nick and chris.

nick raised his eyebrows, looking away.

"and not to mention the many times you both have said the same phrase. like, tell me you hang out too much without telling me you hang out too much?" chris joked, laughing at himself.

nick chuckled quietly, nodding his head in agreement with his brothers.

"that's a coincidence." you mumbled, sitting up straight.

"it's happened more than i can count, i don't think it's a coincidence of any sort." nick said, looking over at matt, who just dragged his hands down his face.

"well, whatever. not like it's gonna last forever," matt said, and before anyone could reply, he stood up and left to his next class.

the bell rang a few seconds after, and you, nick, and chris gave each other confused looks.

"sorry, y/n. he's probably just had a rough day, i promise you he doesn't mean it." nick reassured you, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

he left a few moments later, and chris stayed with you.

"don't take it to heart, 'kay?" chris muttered softly, smiling at you.

you nodded, and chris began to add on, "i've seen him cry over you. he tells me he doesn't know why. all he says is that he doesn't think he could love you more than he already does."

nodding, smiling softly before watching chris get up and leave. now it was just you and your thoughts at the table alone.

huh. who would've thought matthew sturniolo, one of the most popular guys at school, would be crying over you, quiet, kept to herself, y/n l/n?

you couldn't tease him about it, you did the same thing for him. you always cried over matt, not even knowing why because he had never really hurt you.

you always just sobbed to nick about how you would love him 'til the day that he dies. and after those words registered in your head, you only cried more at the thought of matt dying.

but those nights, you were usually drunk or super high. nick always knew how to calm you down, though, he was always there for you whenever you needed.

matt had also occasionally been there for you in your lowest times, never hesitating to break the speed limit getting to your house.

he always confronted the boys that had stood you up, never let anyone talk bad about you or even give you dirty looks. even if he didn't consider you a friend, you thought of him as one.

"i just don't understand," matt whispered shakily as he looked up at the night sky, stars scattered all around and lighting the place around in just the slightest.

you sat next to him, fingers playing with the blanket the both of you were on, "what don't you understand?"

he shrugged, "i don't understand how anyone could love me."

your neck snapped in his direction, eyes widening a little as a million thoughts came to your mind.

you wanted him to see how he looked in your eyes. he was the funniest, most handsome, kind boy you have ever met (even if he did occasionally tick you off).

you wanted him to know how many subtle compliments you gave him that he never noticed, but still took.

but then again, you wanted to just tell him how he was so full of shit. he knew that anyone and everyone was capable of loving him.

he knew that he could get anyone wrapped around his finger in less than a week. hell, he sure got you wrapped around his finger in just a matter of 2 days.

"i just don't get what people see in me. sometimes i just want to quit everything i do at the thought of it." matt added, finally turning his head to look at you.

your gaze softened as he looked you in the eyes, a subtle look of concern plastered on your face as you reached out to pat his shoulder.

"don't be stupid, matthew. i think that if anyone even glanced in your direction, they would instantly fall in love. you're all any girl would want."

matt smiled, and you reached over to move his hair to see his face better. he was truly beautiful. you couldn't ever get tired of the sight of him.

"you really think that?" matt asked, and there was just the tiniest hint of smugness in his voice.

you nodded, tilting your head to see matt better in the pale moonlight.

"i do," you whispered, and before matt could speak, you cut him off, "and don't ruin this moment with one of your stupid remarks, matthew."

matt's lips parted, but he chose to stay silent. he was grateful for moments like this with you, when it was just you two alone and nobody else.

he loved being alone with you, especially late at night when you guys would have these deep talks. no words spoken here would ever leave, neither of you would bring those topics up.

it was a nice feeling, one that made him feel safe and secure in your presence.

as the months passed by and new memories with you were made, matt felt like you were slowly creeping into his heart, invading all of his senses.

all he could think about was you now, and he couldn't ever get you out of his head. not even when he was in boston, more than 2,000 miles away from you.

it came so fast, and you almost couldn't believe that you were standing outside of your high-school with your best friends, all dressed formally.

you were wearing a satin dark blue dress that went down to your knees, while matt and chris were wearing suits and ties.

matt's suit was navy blue, his dress pants being white to match with chris, who was wearing a white suit and navy blue dress pants.

nick wore an all blue suit, his tie being the only white thing on his outfit besides from his collared shirt he wore underneath the suit.

"holy shit, you're stunning, y/n!" nick exclaimed, stretching his arms out before you hugged him tightly.

he smiled into your hair, patting your back before pulling away from your embrace.

"talk about stunning, look at yourself, nicolas! you look amazing, blue looks beautiful on you." you complimented, smiling up at him before walking to stand beside him.

he interlocked your arms, and you finally got the chance to look over matt and chris' suits.

"we look better than you guys ever could," matt said, swinging his arm over chris' shoulder and pulling him closer.

chris smiled, nodding in agreement as he wrapped his arm around matt's waist.

"i don't know, y/n's dress might beat us." the younger boy shrugged, to which matt rolled his eyes at.

"you tell yourselves whatever you want, we're gonna go inside to get the night started," nick stated, pushing past chris and matt and purposely shoving matt playfully.

the two brunette boys weren't slow to follow you and nick, chris rushing in front of you to hold the door open.

when the four of you got intonthe gym, it immediately felt like you guys were gonna have the best night ever.

the lighting was a darker blue, illuminating all the bodies beneath it and capturing every small movement the kids made.

"wow," you whispered, and nick echoed you.

"hello, and welcome, los angeles lions to our 34th annual homecoming dance!" madi exclaimed into the microphone, her eyes scanning the paper she was holding.

the school cheered in excitement, and chris screamed out an encouragement for madi.

she smiled at all the familiar faces before leaning into the microphone to read from the paper again, "these past few weeks have been a little chaotic with all of the new nominees for both homecoming queen, and homecoming king, and tonight won't be any less chaotic."

"now, i'm honored to welcome up on stage the nominees for homecoming queen," madi spoke before flipping the paper over to the other side.

she read over the names, and a big smile came to her face when her eyes landed on the first one.

"please welcome up to the stage y/n l/n," she said, her smile frowing impossibly wider.

chris and nick shoved you around playfully before you finally came to your senses and ran up to the stage. it was an unreal experience, being one of the nominees, you felt like you couldn't compare to any of the other girls.

"alahna estrella," madi said, reading a few more names over the loud cheering of the students before she moved onto the boys.

the gym went silent once madi announced that she would be calling up the boys for homecoming king, now.

"now, i'm very happy to call up to the stage one of the very popular sturniolo triplets..."

matt got ready to walk up to the stage, but when the name fell from madi's mouth, he froze in shock.

"christopher sturniolo!" she said happily, clapping along with the other students.

your eyes widened at the sound of chris' name being called, and you clapped for him.

nick watched as chris made his way up the stairs onto the stage, yelling out his name and clapping for his brother.

matt clapped slowly, the realization that he wouldn't get to be the homecoming king washing over him. whatever, it didn't matter anyway because he already had 3 crowns from past years.

more names were called, and even nate was invited up to the stage as a nominee for homecoming king.

when the crowd settled down, madi had began to speak again, "now, the announcement that we've all been waiting for... this year's homecoming king is.."

madi's eye widened in surprise before she smiled big and read off his name, "christopher sturniolo!"

matt sighed, clapping for his brother. he was happy sure, but then again he was jealous. things always went his way, and he just wasn't ready for this happen.

was he being selfish?

after chris was crowned homecoming king, he stood beside madi up on the stage, smiling big at all the students of his high-school.

"and, for your homecoming queen. this year's homecoming queen is y/n l/n!" madi said, clapping proudly at you as she watched you get crowned.

you couldn't believe it. it felt surreal, like you were in a dream you couldn't wake up from. as you walked over to chris, he pulled you into a huge hug, muttering a quiet, "congratulations." into your ear.

madi took yours and chris' hand as she walked back up to the mic, bringing all of your hands into the air as she yelled out into the microphone.

"please give big love to our new homecoming king and queen, y/n and chris!"

the students cheered, some jumping up and down out of excitement as they screamed their hearts out.

matt huffed angrily, jumping out of his seat before pushing his way past multiple people to get to the exit.

he didn't go unnoticed by you, your eyes following him as he stormed out of the gymnasium.

you were surprised the door hadn't made a sound, it looked like he slammed into the door without even flinching.

"shit," you whispered, worry flashing over your features.

as soon as you got off stage, you ran out of the gym, ignoring all of the people who tried to congratulate you on your way down.

you ran outside of the school, turning every way to try and spot matt. when you did, his eyes locked with yours.

he was sat on the sidewalk, a streetlight illuminating his face as the spotlights had done inside.

you ran over to him, taking a seat next to him and scooting close to him.

it was silent for a few minutes. the two of you just absorbed in all of your thoughts about what just happened.

"congratulations on homecoming queen, i'm happy for you." matt said, looking over into your eyes.

you smiled, "thanks."

"sorry you weren't nominated, i thought you would have been considering you have been every other year." you apologized, and matt shook his head softly.

it wasn't just that, it was the fact that his brother was your homecoming king. it was the knowledge that matt would never get to be your king.

it was the fact that he would never get to be yours.

"i'm sorry, i just can't do this anymore, y/n." matt stood up from his spot, and you looked up at him.

you raised an eyebrow, worry still lingering in your head from matt's earlier outburst, "what? you can't do what?"

you stood up next, now face to face with the boy you both hated and loved the most.

"i just don't understand what we are, what i mean to you and what you even think of me. you keep giving me these fucking mixed signals and i don't know how to interpret them!" matt held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an effort to calm himself down.

you swore you felt your heart shatter at his words. maybe this wasn't gonna be the best night you've ever had.

"what- mixed signals? i.. matt, what are you talking about?" you thought you knew what he was getting at, but as the words came out of your mouth, the thoughts fled from your mind.

matt muttered inaudible words before he finally spoke clearly, "you keep pushing me away and then pulling me back again, and i don't know what to do, y/n."

"do you want me, or am i just some guy you're toying with to get popularity? one minute you're nice and you have my back, and the next you're so fucking cold it's like i'm not even there, like you don't even care about me."

your eyebrows furrowed, he was explaining exactly how he made you feel.

"don't be a hypocrite, matt. i don't even act that way, you're explaining exactly what you make me think. i have all these thoughts and ideas i want to share with you, but when i do, you come over and push them down. why would i even want popularity? i don't give a shit about it, matt!"

"why do you do this to me, seriously?" your voice cracked, and only then did matt realize you were crying.

he groaned, taking small paces back and forth as he breathed heavily.

when he stopped, he was right in front of you, gaze soft as he stared into your e/c eyes.

"because i love you," he finally spilled it, and he didn't regret it. not at all.

the look on your face was not at all what he was expecting. he thought you might he disgusted or even angry.

"don't act so surprised, y/n." he said quietly, cupping your face with his hands.

they were cold, but you still leaned into his touch as he wiped away your tears.

he pulled you closer to him, and you ended up in his arms as you began to calm down. "god, i hate you, matt."

"yeah? well i'll love you 'till the day that i die." he muttered softly.

you laughed quietly, punching him playfully before pulling away.

he stayed silent, a soft smile on his face. as he continued to stare at you, he started to realize more and more things.

one thing he realized was that he never wanted to say goodbye.

maybe chris was right. maybe you two were birds of a feather.

. . . . . . . . .

tags: @cindylcuwho

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

12

(T.W bpd episode towards the end, if that's at all triggering skip Jinx's second POV <3)

Jinx

The bass thrums through the walls, vibrating my bones, and the air reeks of sweat, liquor, and the sharp tang of people pretending they belong here.

Caitlyn Kirammans party.

Fucking fantastic.

I can already feel the chaos simmering, the way the room shifts with every new body that spills in.

I like it here. I thrive on it.

But Y/N? She’s quiet, like she always is. Not her scene, not even close. But she’s here, and that’s all that matters.

She’s standing next to me, like a little wallflower in a sea of jackasses.

We’re close enough that I can feel the tension rolling off her in waves, but neither of us has said a word about it.

We don’t need to.

It’s our thing.

Our secret.

I’m half-focused on Y/N, the way she’s standing there, shoulders pulled in, trying not to get noticed.

She doesn’t belong here, not like this. She’s got a quiet aura, a stark contrast to the noisy, wild energy around us.

But she’s with me, and that’s enough to keep my blood pumping. I can’t let her get lost in the crowd.

Cait and Mel swoop in like vultures, all manicured nails and perfectly placed grins, and before I can stop it, Y/N’s wrist is in Cait’s hand.

She barely has time to glance at me before they’re dragging her away, swallowed by the mass of bodies like she was never even standing next to me in the first place.

I feel my jaw clench, but I don’t move. I could. I could storm after her, could grab her back, could tell Cait to keep her prissy little hands to herself. But I don’t.

Because that’s not how this works.

Instead, I lean back against the wall, tapping my fingers against my thigh. Watching.

Mel says something, and Y/N laughs, but it’s that tight, polite laugh, the one she does when she’s being the good girl everyone expects her to be.

I fucking hate it.

I hate how easy it is for her to put that mask on, to pretend she’s one of them. I wonder if it ever gets exhausting, all that pretending.

Then I hear it.

“Alright, time for a game,” someone calls, and the crowd shifts, bodies pressing in as the living room turns into some kind of makeshift arena.

Great.

I push off the wall, weaving my way closer, close enough to see Y/N standing there, stiff as a damn board, while Cait and Mel laugh like they’ve already won something.

There’s a table in the center, scattered with shot glasses, a deck of cards, a stupid-looking bowl filled with crumpled-up slips of paper.

Truth or dare.

Of course.

I should’ve known Caitlyn and her bougie ass parties wouldn’t settle for anything normal.

I move to the edge of the crowd, close enough that I could step in if I wanted to. But Y/N’s shoulders are squared, her chin lifted just a little.

She’s handling it.

For now.

Mel reaches into the bowl first, plucking a slip and unfolding it like it holds the secrets of the universe. Then she smirks. “Y/N,” she says, her voice silky smooth, like she’s been waiting for this.

Y/N’s fingers twitch at her sides. “Truth.”

The air fucking shifts.

The question hangs, sharp and invasive, like it’s dissecting something private.

Y/N’s breath catches, just for a split second, but it’s enough for me to notice. Her back straightens, and her eyes dart around the room, like she’s looking for an escape.

Like there’s no way out.

I hate the way everyone’s looking at her now, waiting, eager. I hate that I can feel the pressure of their gaze too.

I hate that she’s stuck, caught in this moment where she has to lie or risk her privacy.

She looks at me, just for a breath, and I see it—the panic behind her eyes.

She can’t say it.

She can’t tell them about us.

And I get it.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

“I… I don’t know,” she says finally, voice too steady, too practiced. “I haven’t really had a romantic moment recently.”

The words hit like a punch to the chest. Her voice is steady, but her eyes flicker—flicker—back to me, and I feel it.

It’s a lie.

A lie so heavy I can’t breathe.

Mel’s smile is wide and expectant, but Y/N can’t bring herself to meet it. Instead, she looks down at the floor, as if she’s trying to disappear into it.

The whole room is dead silent, like they’re waiting for her to elaborate. I can feel the weight of their curiosity, the subtle shift in energy. It’s too much. Too fucking much.

I stand there, frozen, while her words wrap around me like a noose. It’s not the truth. It’s not even close.

But I can’t force her to say it.

I won’t make her.

But God, does it hurt.

And then, without a word, Y/N stands up straighter, pasting that smile of hers back on.

It’s weak, like it’s barely holding together, but it’s there. She’s doing what she does best—pretending.

The game moves on, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted.

I can feel the distance between us growing with every breath. And I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can keep pretending.

But I don’t ask. I don’t need to.

I already know the answer.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Y/N

The weight of the moment lingers like a heavy fog, suffocating everything around me. The game moves on, people laughing, clinking glasses, like nothing’s wrong.

Like I didn’t just shatter something precious. But I feel it. The crack that just split between me and Jinx. The way her eyes—those eyes—refused to meet mine when I lied. When I denied what we were.

I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m pushing through the crowd, desperate to catch up to her, desperate to fix whatever this is, before it breaks.

She’s already halfway out the door, her shoulders tense, her back a line of defiance. Like she’s preparing to leave. Like she’s already gone.

“Jinx!” I call, my voice a little too sharp, a little too broken, and the moment she hears me, she stops. But she doesn’t turn. She doesn’t give me the satisfaction of seeing her face, not yet.

I can hear her breath catch, feel the walls she’s putting up between us—cold, rigid, like she’s made of stone.

I take a step closer, and the words tumble out before I can stop them. “Jinx, wait. Please.”

She finally turns, but it’s not the way I want. She faces me with that look, the one that says everything’s messed up. That look that makes my chest tighten and my throat close. Her hands are clenched at her sides, her expression unreadable, like she’s afraid I’ll see too much.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Her voice is quiet, too calm, but I hear the edge underneath it, the tremor she’s hiding, and it's almost like my name tastes foul on her lips, there's no honey laced teasing. Just my name, so hollow and empty.

“Please, just let me explain,” I try again, my words tumbling over each other, desperate, pleading. “I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t—”

“You didn’t mean it?” Her voice breaks, just a little, and I feel the sting of it deep in my chest. Her eyes narrow, and she steps forward, her gaze sharp, cutting through the distance. “You think I’m just some—some experiment to you?”

The words hit like a slap, and I stagger back, the realization sinking in like a weight I can’t shake.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Jinx, I—”

“Don’t.” She cuts me off, her voice low, deadly. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to use me when it’s convenient and then act like it’s nothing when things get real.”

Her words are a punch to the gut.

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. I can’t form the words. Because deep down, she’s right.

“You think I’m just some fucking game, Y/N? Some person you get to play with until you’re bored?” She’s shaking now, her breath ragged, fists clenched so tight her knuckles are white. “I’m not your fucking experiment. I’m not something you get to try out when it suits you and then throw away when it’s inconvenient.”

The hurt in her voice is a raw, jagged thing. It cuts deeper than any insult, any accusation. I want to reach out, to fix it, but I don’t know how.

“You never even told them the truth,” she continues, her voice trembling with rage and pain. “You lied to everyone. You lied to me. And now you’re telling me you didn’t mean it?”

I open my mouth, but the words stick in my throat. I didn’t mean it. But the truth... the truth feels like a weight I can’t bear to carry.

“I didn’t know how to—”

“Exactly,” she snaps. “You never knew how to. You don’t know what it’s like, Y/N, to be someone’s secret. To feel like you’re not even real.”

The words fall between us like shattered glass. And in that moment, I know she’s right. I’ve been so afraid of everything—of us, of the consequences—that I forgot she was real. That she wasn’t just some thing to hide away, tucked into the corners of my life where no one could see.

But now she’s here, raw and real, and she’s done pretending.

“Jinx, I’m sorry. I... I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

Her expression softens, just for a moment, but it’s not enough. Not enough to erase the hurt, the feeling that she’s already slipping through my fingers.

“Then stop making me feel like I’m nothing,” she says, her voice small, broken. “I’m not your fucking secret, Y/N. And I’m not some experiment you can toss aside when it gets too hard.”

I stand there, speechless, the weight of her words pressing down on me. And for the first time, I don’t know how to fix it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

“Pow, please, it’s scary—”

Y/N’s face is all scrunched up, like she can’t decide if she’s going to cry or scream, her little hands clutched together like they’re trying to hold herself together. She’s always been like that, so gentle, so careful.

I don’t understand it then. I don’t understand why she’s scared, why she’s pulling away. All I want is to make her laugh, to make her stop being afraid. I just want to see that soft smile, the one she only gives me.

But it’s not happening.

“Don’t be a baby, Y/N.” My voice comes out harsh, too sharp, the kind of thing that cuts when it’s not meant to. But I don’t see it. I can’t see it.

Her lip trembles, and she takes a step back.

“Pow, I—I don’t like it when you do that.”

I laugh, but it’s bitter. “What? You don’t like it when I make you laugh? When I make you feel something?”

She shakes her head, eyes wide, like she’s suddenly seeing me for the first time. It’s like the ground is shifting beneath me, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“Pow…”

I don’t hear her. I’m already moving, already too far gone in my head to care about her feelings. The world around me is spinning, and I’m trapped in it, my thoughts fraying. I want to push her, make her laugh again, make her stop being scared.

But instead, I see it. I see her, backing away from me, her small hands held up like shields, like I’m the thing she’s afraid of.

“Stop,” she whispers, so softly, so quietly, but it cuts deeper than anything she could’ve yelled at me.

And I freeze.

Because I’ve broken her.

“Y/N…”

“I can’t... be your friend anymore, Powder.”

Her words hit harder than any slap. They feel like they’re carving into me, leaving jagged pieces behind.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Nothing that makes sense. I can’t fix it. I can’t make it better.

And she’s already gone.

I watch her walk away, and I can feel the walls closing in. My heart is pounding in my ears, and all I want is to reach out, to stop her, but my legs won’t move.

She’s gone.

And I never knew how to make her stay.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

The sound of my breathing is jagged—too loud—and I can’t catch it, like I’m suffocating on it.

It’s all I can hear. I’m drowning in it, in every breath that feels too thick, too wrong.

The walls are closing in.

The room is too small.

Too tight.

My chest—fuck—feels like someone’s wrapped their hands around my ribs and is squeezing, squeezing until I can’t take it anymore.

No—

I try to inhale, but my lungs are—they’re full of nothing.

I’m gasping, barely breathing, struggling to get air, struggling to stop my heart from exploding out of my chest.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

The thoughts start coming, jagged, violent, louder and louder, and I can’t escape them.

They’re fucking everywhere, stabbing me in the head like knives, ripping through my mind like a hurricane.

You fucked up. You always fuck up.

She’ll never love you.

I scream—louder, but it’s not enough.

It’s not enough to drown out the voices.

God, it’s not enough.

I can’t think.

I can’t feel anything but this, this overwhelming pressure, this suffocating weight pressing down on me, crushing me, until I’m nothing but a pile of shaking limbs.

I claw at my face, trying to make it stop, but the tears—they won’t stop.

Hot, fast, stinging, falling in streams I can’t control. My skin’s crawling.

I’m so fucking hot, like I’m burning alive, but then I feel cold, too cold, like I’m freezing from the inside out.

I scream again, a primal, ugly sound, and my hands shake so violently that they’re hitting the floor, knocking things over.

I don’t know what’s real anymore.

The walls are spinning. The floor is spinning.

I can’t make it stop.

Why didn’t you say it? Why didn’t you fight for her?

You fucked up.

I’m on my knees now, rocking back and forth, my body jerked with each shudder, each scream, each thought crashing through my skull.

I can’t stop moving. I can’t stop anything.

She doesn’t care.

YOU’RE NOTHING.

I can’t breathe. I clutch my chest, fingers digging into my skin, feeling the panic, the fire, the ice, the suffocating, overwhelming nothing that’s making me fucking disappear.

Why didn’t you just leave her alone?

You don’t matter. You never mattered.

I can’t hold it together. I can’t fix it. I can’t do anything but shake, scream, hurt.

And the voices—they’re fucking louder.

No one loves you!

You're a fucking mess!

I pull at my hair, tears streaming, gasping between sobs, but nothing helps. The world is spinning, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it stop.

I scream again, thrashing, but there’s no relief. There’s nothing.

I’m drowning.

I’m drowning.

I close my eyes, wishing I could just stop, wishing I could just disappear. Anything. Anything to make it stop.

But it never does.

It never fucking stops.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: so the honeymoon phase wasn't for long, but there will be a very nice reconciliation

please like and reblog <3

also timebomb fic is out, if you like mary janes so far, it's a similar writing style and setting so go check it out :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62833570/chapters/160875787

[03jyh23]

🌷⌇ our first day finding our way back part 5; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ │next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood

│words: 9 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! i hope all of you had a good week! i'm so happy to finally write more nari as im aware that's what you've been looking for! we are only getting started with dad jongho moments so im excited for the future updates, even if it means we are getting closer to the end :( i don't really have much to say regarding this part, i hope you will enjoy it!!!

love, mon ♡

│taglist: │ @seventeenthingsblr @DALSUWAHA

@treehouse-mouse @ateez-atiny380 @yoonshiiu

@sndeoki @bomi-ja @dearinsaniiiity

@vixensss @all-fandoms-rise

@finnydraws @hyuckiesgf @jonghosbrainrot

@ateezswonderland @stayatinykatsy @chickenscoups ♡

♡ if you wish to be tagged let me know here! ♡

Jongho hung up the phone and started gathering his things, his mind racing with thoughts of Nari and the urgency in your voice. He mentally ran through everything he might need for the day. His movements were quick but slightly clumsy in his haste. He grabbed his shoes, slipping them on as he made his way to the door. Just as he was about to leave his room, he realized he hadn't taken his car keys. With a small, frustrated sigh, he turned back and scanned the room, spotting them on the nightstand. He snatched them up and then reached for a jacket from the rack, knowing the morning air might still be chilly. 

As he shrugged on the jacket, his mind was solely focused on getting to you and Nari as quickly as possible. In his rush, his legs tangled momentarily, causing him to stumble. He steadied himself, taking a deep breath to clear his head. He couldn't afford to waste any more time. 

"Shit, I can't just go empty-handed," he whispered to himself. Jongho quickly scanned the room, looking for something to bring. There was nothing suitable for a little girl. He sighed, not wanting to visit without bringing Nari anything. As he scanned the room one last time, his eyes landed on a small collection of his belongings, none of which seemed appropriate for his daughter. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the situation. He wanted to make a good impression, to show Nari that he was thinking about her and cared enough to bring something special. "Wooyoung's gonna hate me but a man gotta do what he gotta do," he thought, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the urgency. Taking a deep breath, he left his room and walked down the hall to Wooyoung's door. He hesitated momentarily, knowing it was still early and that Wooyoung might not appreciate being woken up. But there was no other option. He needed to do this. With a determined knock, Jongho rapped on the door. He waited, shifting from foot to foot as he listened for any signs of movement inside. After a few moments, he knocked again, a little louder this time. Finally, he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps and the door creaked open to reveal a very sleepy and slightly annoyed Wooyoung. 

"Jongho? What the hell? It's barely dawn," Wooyoung grumbled, rubbing his eyes and squinting at Jongho. 

Jongho took a deep breath, trying to remain patient. "I know, Wooyoung, and I'm really sorry for waking you. But I need a favor. I'm going to meet Nari now, and I want to bring her something special. Do you happen to have any new Aniteez merch lying around?" 

Wooyoung's expression softened slightly as he processed Jongho's words. "You're going to see Nari?" he asked, his annoyance giving way to curiosity and a hint of understanding. 

Jongho nodded. "Yeah, Y/N called me. She has an emergency at work. I need to get there as soon as possible, and I want to make a good impression. I thought some merch might be a nice gesture." 

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Alright but why would I have our merch, Jongho?" Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Jongho sighed, "I know it's a long shot, but you're always the one who ends up with the extra stuff after our events. Do you have anything or not?" 

"Ugh!" A groan was heard from the bedroom, followed by a muffled voice both Wooyoung and Jongho couldn’t understand. "Sannie, if you want to tell us something, would you keep your head above the pillow, please?" Wooyoung requested, his tone soft when he spoke. 

There was a brief pause, then the sound of rustling sheets and a louder, clearer voice. "Woo, just give him the car," San's voice came through more clearly now, filled with sleepiness and a hint of exasperation. 

"What are you... oh! Oh!" Wooyoung exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. He rushed to his wardrobe, flinging open the doors with newfound urgency. Jongho watched as Wooyoung rummaged through his clothes, tossing aside shirts and hoodies in his search. It felt like an eternity, but finally, Wooyoung emerged holding a packaged box. 

"I bought it for Kyungmin, he was supposed to visit today but he can’t because he’s sick, and mom won’t let him," Wooyoung explained, handing over the box with a sigh. "I'm going to buy him another one soon, so you can take it." 

Jongho raised his eyebrow, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over his face. "It's a car?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and relief. He hadn't expected Wooyoung to have something so perfect on hand. 

Wooyoung nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he saw Jongho's reaction. "Yeah, it's one of those remote-controlled cars. Kyungmin loves them, and I think it might be something Nari could enjoy too." 

Jongho hesitated for a moment, considering Wooyoung's words. "But Nari is way younger than Kyungmin. Do you think she can play with it safely?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. 

Wooyoung paused, scratching his head thoughtfully. "You’re right, Jongho. Maybe it’s not the best idea. But it's the only thing I have right now. Just make sure to supervise her while she's playing with it. She might still have fun, even if she can't control it perfectly." Wooyoung smiled thoughtfully. "You know what? One day, Kyungmin could teach Nari how to drive it. It could be something they bond over, and who knows, maybe she'll become a pro at it before you know it." He chuckled as he imagined the two kids playing together. Jongho loved the idea, he was looking forward to the future, to see his daughter spending time with his members, and bonding with Kyungmin seemed like a great idea. The sweet boy could be like a big brother to Nari, and maybe one day, they would become best friends.  

"Yeah, that sounds like a great plan. Thanks, Wooyoung. I owe you one." He took the car from Wooyoung's hands, feeling a little more at ease with having something to bring to Nari. 

Wooyoung waved off the gratitude with a casual shrug. "It's no big deal. Just get going already. The sooner you get there, the better." 

Jongho nodded, clutching the box tightly. "You're right. Thanks again, Wooyoung. I'll make it up to you." 

"Just go," Wooyoung chuckled, closing the door softly as Jongho turned to leave, his steps more determined now, bolstered by the unexpected gift and his friend's support. 

Jongho made his way out of the apartment, the remote-controlled car securely tucked under his arm. The morning air was crisp, and he took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He quickly got into his car, started the engine, and headed towards your place; his mind focused on the day ahead with Nari. And as he drove, he couldn't help but wonder if he would do a good job. He feared not meeting Nari's needs. After all, he didn't know how to handle a 4-year-old. The questions swirled in his mind, each one adding to the knot of anxiety in his chest. He tried to reassure himself, remembering the warmth in your voice when you thanked him and the genuine eagerness, he felt about spending time with his daughter. But doubts still lingered. Would he be able to comfort her if she got upset? What if she didn't like him or felt uncomfortable around him? The fear of not being able to connect with Nari gnawed at him, making him grip the steering wheel a little tighter. The weight of responsibility felt immense. Jongho's mind kept racing with scenarios, each one more daunting than the last. What if Nari got hurt while they were playing? Would he know how to handle a scraped knee or a bump on the head? The thought of his daughter in pain made his heartache. He also worried about making sure she had a good time. He wanted her to feel happy and cherished, to have fun, and to create positive memories with him. The pressure to make everything perfect was overwhelming. Yet, amidst all the worries, there was a flicker of hope. The thought of seeing Nari's smile, of hearing her laugh, filled him with determination. He was willing to try his best. He knew that being present and attentive were the most important things he could offer. And with that thought, Jongho felt a small sense of calm wash over him. He took another deep breath, focusing on the road ahead, and silently promised himself that he would do everything in his power to be the father Nari deserved. He pulled his car into the parking lot of your apartment complex, the engine's hum gradually fading as he turned it off. Jongho took a moment to collect his thoughts, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, golden light across the surroundings. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the box with the toy inside and stepped out of the car, the cool morning air brushing against his skin. As he closed the door to his car, Jongho noticed a small flower shop across the street. A delivery car was parked in front of the entrance, overflowing with beautiful flowers. The sight of the vibrant blooms caught his eye, and he jogged over, hoping it wouldn't take too much time. 

"Excuse me? Are you open?" he called out as he approached the shop. 

An old lady with white curly hair and a kind smile on her face turned to him. "Oh, hello young man," she replied warmly. "We are not opening until later today." 

Jongho's face fell slightly, but he quickly gathered himself. "I see. It's just that I'm in a bit of a hurry, and I wanted to get something special for my daughter. It's our first day really spending time together, and I thought some flowers might brighten her day." 

The old lady's expression softened even more. "Your daughter, you say? How sweet. Well, I suppose I could make an exception just this once. What kind of flowers were you thinking of?" 

Jongho smiled, relief washing over him. "Thank you so much. I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. Maybe something colorful?" 

The old lady nodded thoughtfully and walked over to the delivery car. "I think I have just the thing," she said, selecting a small bouquet of mixed flowers. The arrangement was a delightful mix of daisies, tulips, and a few roses, bursting with color and life. "These should do nicely," she said, handing the bouquet to Jongho. "I hope your daughter loves them." 

Jongho took the bouquet, his smile widening. "I'm sure she will. Thank you again, really. You've made my day a lot easier." 

The old lady chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "How about a little something for your wife as well, dear? A thoughtful gesture can go a long way." 

"My wife?" he asked, at first, he furrowed his brow but soon a soft smile appeared on his lips, he couldn't help but feel warm inside at the thought of being married to you. The assumption of the lady made his heart race, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. He hadn't thought about getting a bouquet for you, but now he found himself considering it. The idea of surprising you with flowers, of seeing your face light up with a smile, filled him with a sense of joy and anticipation. He imagined you standing at the door, bouquet in hand, your eyes sparkling with surprise and happiness. The image was so vivid and heartwarming that he couldn't resist. "You know what, that's a wonderful idea," Jongho said, his voice filled with newfound excitement. "I'll take another bouquet for my wife as well." 

The old lady's smile widened as she selected another beautiful arrangement, this one with soft pastel colors and delicate blooms. "Here you go, young man. I hope both your daughter and wife have a lovely day," she said, handing him the second bouquet. 

Jongho accepted the flowers, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you so much. You've really made my day," he replied, his voice sincere. He took out his wallet and paid, leaving a big tip. The flower shop owner looked a bit frustrated. 

"Oh, that's way too much!" she exclaimed, trying to hand some of the money back. 

"Please, keep it," Jongho insisted with a warm smile. "Consider it a thank you for your kindness." The old lady sighed but eventually accepted, her expression softening. 

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you, and good luck with your day," she said, waving him off. 

As Jongho approached your apartment complex, he felt a mix of nerves and excitement. Balancing the bouquets and the remote-controlled car, he made his way up the stairs, replaying the conversation with the flower shop owner in his mind. He hoped the flowers would bring a smile to both your faces and help ease the tension of the morning. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door, the sound echoing softly in the early morning quiet. Moments later, the door opened to reveal you, a look of relief washing over your face as you saw Jongho standing there with flowers in his hand. 

"Jongho, you didn't have to—" you started, but he gently interrupted you. 

"I wanted to. For you," he said softly, handing you the bouquet. "I thought it might brighten your day a bit." 

You took the flowers, a smile spreading across your face. "I can't remember the last time someone got me flowers." You took the bouquet, your smile growing wider as you brought it to your nose and inhaled its fresh scent. The tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and appreciation. "Thank you, this really means a lot to me," you said, your voice soft with emotion. 

Jongho felt his heart lighten at your response, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you for accepting them," Jongho replied, his voice filled with warmth. "I just wanted to make you smile." 

As you let him into the apartment, you noticed another bouquet in his hand and a big box under his arm. "What's all this?" you asked, curiosity piqued as you glanced at the items he was carrying. 

Jongho grinned, holding up the second bouquet. "This one is for Nari. I thought she might like some flowers too." He then gestured to the box. "And I brought her a little gift. It's a remote-controlled car. I hope she will like it." 

Your heart swelled with appreciation, and you couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "That's so sweet of you. She's going to love it." 

Jongho's grin widened, a sense of relief washing over him. "I'm just happy to spend time with her and make her day special." You led him inside, placing the flowers in a vase on the kitchen counter. 

"I will go and wake her up," you announced, turning towards her room. 

Jongho hesitated, a look of concern crossing his face. "Do you have to? It's still early," he said softly, his eyes glancing towards the clock on the wall. "I don't want to disrupt her sleep." 

"She might feel a little overwhelmed when she wakes up and I'm not here," you said, a touch of worry in your voice. "She's not used to waking up without me around, and I know it could be a bit disorienting for her." You paused for a moment, your eyes softening as you looked at Jongho. "If you will want to come over more often, then with time she will get used to waking up to you," you reassured him, your voice gentle and comforting. "It might take a little while, but children are adaptable. She'll come to expect and look forward to seeing you in the mornings. It will be a new routine for her, and routines can be very comforting for kids. Plus, having you around more often will help her feel more secure and loved." 

Jongho listened intently, feeling a sense of hope and determination growing within him. Your words were like a soothing balm to his worries, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of becoming a consistent presence in Nari's life. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "That really means a lot to me. I'll do my best to be there for her, to be someone she can rely on." 

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a look of understanding and support. "I know you will, Jongho. You're already doing a great job by being here today. Just take it one step at a time, and everything will fall into place." 

You went to Nari's room, the sight of her sleeping peacefully brought a warm smile to your face, but you knew that you had to wake her. "Sweetheart?" you called softly, your voice gentle as you reached out to gently brush her hair from her forehead. You kneeled beside her bed, your heart heavy with the knowledge that you were about to disrupt her peaceful slumber. "Nari, it's time to wake up," you whispered, your tone soothing and filled with love. You hated to wake her up, especially when she looked so serene, but you knew it was for the best. The day ahead was important, and you wanted to make sure she had time to adjust and feel comfortable with Jongho's presence. As Nari stirred and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a reassuring smile. "Good morning, my little angel, I know it's early, but mommy needs to leave for work, and somebody special will keep you company today," you said softly, "I know you'll have a wonderful time together," you continued, giving her a reassuring smile. "He's looking forward to playing with you and making today really fun." 

Nari blinked sleepily, her eyes gradually focusing on you. "Who, mommy?" she asked, her voice still groggy from sleep. 

"It's Uncle Jongho, sweetie," you replied gently. "He's waiting with a special surprise just for you." Nari's eyes widened with curiosity and excitement, and she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Do you want to go together with mommy and see him?" you asked, your voice filled with warmth and encouragement. Nari nodded eagerly, her excitement growing at the prospect of seeing Jongho and the special surprise he had brought. Taking her small body in your arms, you took her to the living room where Jongho was waiting. The moment Nari saw the flowers and the box, her eyes lit up with wonder. "Look, Nari, Uncle Jongho brought you some flowers and a special gift," you said, your voice filled with warmth. 

Your daughter’s face broke into a wide smile as she looked at the flowers and the box. "For me?" she asked, her voice filled with delight. 

Jongho nodded, "Yes, for you, princess. I hope you like them," he said warmly, handing her the bouquet and the box. Nari took the flower in her tiny hand, her eyes lighting up with delight. She smiled brightly, then hid her face behind the bouquet, her giggle filling the living room with a sound as sweet as music. The sight of her joy was enough to melt anyone's heart, and it was clear that the flowers had made a wonderful impression. Her reaction brought a sense of warmth and accomplishment to Jongho, who watched her with a tender expression, feeling more determined than ever to make the day special for her. 

"Can Uncle give you a hug?" Jongho asked, his arms spread wide to welcome her tiny figure. Nari looked at him with big, curious eyes, her smile growing even wider. She hesitated for just a moment before nodding eagerly, you took a step closer to Jongho, so he could take her in his arms, and the second he did so, Nari wrapped her small hands around Jongho's neck. 

Jongho's heart melted as he gently hugged her back, feeling the warmth and innocence of her embrace. "Thank you, princess," he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm so happy to be here with you today." 

Nari giggled, her laughter like a sweet melody filling the room. "I'm happy too, Uncle Jongho!" she said, her voice bright with excitement. 

Jongho put her down, looking into her sparkling eyes. "We're going to have so much fun today, I promise," he said, his tone full of genuine eagerness. 

Nari's eyes lit up even more, the anticipation of the day's adventures evident on her face. "Okay! What are we going to do first?" she asked, her curiosity bubbling over. 

Jongho chuckled, glancing over at you with a grateful smile. "Well, we have a whole day ahead of us. How about we start with opening your special gift?" he suggested, pointing to the box with the remote-controlled car. 

"How about starting with breakfast?" you chimed in with a warm smile as you began to gather your belongings to leave. You glanced at Nari, who was still beaming from the excitement of seeing Jongho and her new gifts. 

"Mommy's right," Jongho agreed with a chuckle, smile ever leaving his face, "Let's have some breakfast first. We can open your special gift." 

Nari looked up at both of you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, Uncle Jongho!" she said eagerly, her small hands still clutching the bouquet of flowers he had given her. 

You nodded in agreement, your smile widening as you saw the bond beginning to form between Jongho and Nari. "Breakfast sounds like a great idea. How about some pancakes and fruit?" you suggested, knowing it was one of Nari's favorite meals. 

Jongho's eyes lit up at the idea. "Pancakes and fruits it is, then," he said enthusiastically. 

"Sweetheart, mommy is leaving, come give me a kiss," you called softly, bending down to Nari's level. Nari quickly ran over to you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck as she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek. "I love you, mommy," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth. 

"I love you too, my little angel," you replied, hugging her tightly before standing up and giving Jongho a grateful smile. 

"I'm taking Nari to the studio later," Jongho reminded you, his voice gentle. "Do you have a child seat for her? I want to make sure she's safe and comfortable during the ride." 

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "Yes, I have one in the closet. Let me get it for you," you replied, heading towards the closet to retrieve the seat. "Thank you for being so considerate, Jongho." 

Jongho smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting his genuine concern. "Of course, Y/N. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly today." 

You handed him the child seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his attentiveness. "Here it is. I know she'll be in good hands with you." 

Jongho took the seat from you, his expression one of determination and affection. "Thank you. We'll have a great time, I promise." 

"Take good care of her, Jongho. And have fun, you two." 

Jongho nodded, his heart swelling with determination and affection. "I will, Y/N. Don't worry, we'll have a great time." 

You gave them both one last smile before heading out the door, feeling a sense of peace knowing that Nari was in good hands. 

"So, would you like to help me with the pancakes?" Jongho smiled warmly at his little daughter, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He moved towards the kitchen, opening the shelves in search of a pan and a bowl. 

Nari's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and she nodded eagerly. "Yes, Uncle Jongho! I love helping!" she exclaimed, her small hands clapping together in excitement. 

Jongho chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Great! Let's find everything we need first," he said, pulling out a pan and a large mixing bowl. He placed them on the counter and started to gather the ingredients: flour, eggs, milk, and a few other essentials. 

Nari watched him intently, her curiosity piqued. "Can I crack the eggs?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation. 

Jongho smiled and nodded. "Of course, princess. Just be careful, okay?" he said, handing her an egg. He guided her little hands, helping her crack the egg into the bowl without making a mess. "Great job!" he praised, ruffling her hair gently. Nari beamed with pride, her cheeks flushing with happiness. As they continued working together, Jongho explained each step, making sure to keep Nari engaged and involved. They measured out the flour, poured the milk, and mixed everything together, creating a smooth batter. Nari's giggles filled the room as she helped stir, her enthusiasm infectious "You're a natural chef, Nari," Jongho said with a grin. "I couldn't have done this without you." 

Nari's eyes sparkled with joy. "This is so much fun!" 

Jongho felt a warm sense of accomplishment as he watched Nari's excitement. The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of pancakes cooking on the stove, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for this precious time with her. "All right let's flip these pancakes and get ready to eat," Jongho said, expertly turning the golden-brown pancakes. "I think we're going to have a delicious breakfast, thanks to you." 

Nari giggled, her eyes shining with pride. "I can't wait to eat them!" 

Jongho plated the pancakes and added a generous serving of fresh fruit on the side. As they sat down to eat, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Nari's delighted expression. "How do you like them? Do they taste good?" Jongho asked, watching Nari take her first bite of the pancakes. 

Nari's eyes widened in delight as she chewed, and she quickly nodded, her mouth too full to speak. After swallowing, she grinned at Jongho. "They're yummy, Uncle Jongho! The best pancakes ever!" 

Jongho's heart swelled with pride and relief. "I'm so glad you like them, princess," he said, taking a bite himself. The pancakes were light and fluffy, with just the right amount of sweetness from the fresh fruit. They continued eating, the room filled with the happy sound of Nari's giggles and the clink of forks against plates. Jongho couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. This moment, this simple breakfast, was everything he had hoped for and more. 

Nari chewed on her pancakes, her legs dangling from the chair. She glanced around as if making sure no one else was listening, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Just don't tell Mommy I told you this," she giggled, leaning closer to Jongho. She cupped her small hand around her mouth to whisper, adding an air of secrecy to her words. "But your pancakes are better than Mommy's." 

Jongho couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable confession. "Oh, really?" he whispered back, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I promise I won't tell. It'll be our little secret." 

Nari nodded vigorously, her giggles filling the room. "Okay, Uncle Jongho. It's a secret!" she said, her voice a mix of excitement and delight, as if she had just shared the most important secret in the world. 

After they finished eating, Jongho helped Nari clean up the kitchen, turning the chore into a fun game. They washed the dishes together, Nari's laughter echoing through the apartment as she splashed water playfully. Once everything was clean, Jongho turned to Nari with a smile. "Ready to open your special gift now?" he asked, gesturing to the box with the remote-controlled car. 

Nari's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes, please!" she squealed, bouncing on her toes. Jongho chuckled and led her to the sofa, where the box was waiting. He carefully helped her open it, revealing the shiny remote-controlled car inside. Nari's face lit up with pure joy as she examined the car, her fingers tracing over its sleek surface. 

"Wow, it's so cool!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder. "It's my first car!" 

Jongho handed her the remote control. "Want to give it a try?" he asked with a grin. Nari eagerly took the remote, her small fingers gripping it tightly. With a little guidance from Jongho, she soon had the car zooming around the living room, her laughter filling the space as she chased it around. Jongho watched her with a smile, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over him. This was what it was all about, creating these precious moments, building memories, and being there for her. As the car raced around the room, Nari's giggles were contagious, filling the apartment with joy. Jongho couldn't help but join in the fun, cheering her on and occasionally taking the remote to show her a few tricks. The morning flew by in a whirlwind of laughter and play, each moment more precious than the last. 

Jongho didn't notice the time passing untill his phone started to ring in his pocket. He picked it up, seeing Hongjoong calling him. "Hey, I heard from Wooyoung that you had a small emergency. Should we start the practice without you?" Hongjoong asked, his voice filled with concern. 

Jongho glanced at Nari, who was happily playing with her new toy. "Yeah, something came up," Jongho replied, "I'm taking care of Nari today. It's... it's really important." 

Hongjoong's tone softened. "I understand, she comes first. We can manage practice without you for today." 

"Thanks, hyung. I really appreciate it. But we'll be there as soon as we can. I just need to prepare Nari to leave, and then we will join you guys." 

"You sure you want to come today? It's fine if you want to skip and spend time with her." Hongjoong's voice was filled with understanding. 

"No, no, it's fine. Until I am not officially on hiatus, I want to continue with practices," Jongho insisted, determination evident in his tone. 

Hongjoong sighed but didn't push further. "Alright, Jongho. Just take your time and join us when you can." 

"Thanks, Hongjoong. I'll see you soon," Jongho said, hanging up the phone with a renewed sense of purpose. 

Jongho took a deep breath, glancing around the room for a moment before turning his attention back to Nari. "Alright, princess, we need to get ready to go out," he said gently, crouching down to her level. "We're going to meet the rest of the uncles today, what do you say?" 

Nari looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Really? Can I bring my car?" she asked, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh! Is Uncle Wooyoungie going to be there?!" she jumped from excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. Nari's energetic reaction brought a warm smile to Jongho's face. He could see how much she adored Wooyoung, and the thought of seeing him made her even more enthusiastic. 

Jongho nodded, sharing her excitement. "Yes, Uncle Wooyoung will be there, along with the rest of the uncles. They're all looking forward to meeting you again," he said warmly. 

Nari's excitement was palpable as she started to bounce on her toes. "Yay! I can't wait to show Uncle Wooyoung my new car! He's going to love it!" She clutched the car tightly, her joy filling the room. 

Jongho chuckled, feeling a sense of pride and happiness. "I'm sure he'll be very impressed. Did you know that Uncle Wooyoung has a little brother who also likes cars?" Jongho mentioned, "Maybe you can play with him too sometime." 

Nari's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? That sounds fun! I can't wait to meet him!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm growing even more. 

Jongho smiled, feeling a sense of warmth at her excitement. "I'm sure you'll get along great. Now, let's get ready and head out. We don't want to keep Uncle Wooyoung and the others waiting. Should I help you dress up?" Jongho asked gently, looking down at Nari with a warm smile. 

"Uncle, don't be silly! I'm a big girl, I can dress myself!" Nari replied with a confident smile, already running off to her room to pick out her outfit. 

Jongho chuckled, watching her with a proud smile. "Alright, princess. I'll be right here if you need any help," he called after her, feeling a sense of admiration for her independence. As Nari disappeared into her room, Jongho took a moment to tidy up the living room, making sure everything was in order before they left. He glanced at his phone, checking the time and mentally planning the rest of the day. 

He heard Nari's little steps running toward the living room, "Uncle Jongho, can you help me reach my shelf, please?" she asked, her voice filled with determination and a hint of impatience. 

Jongho looked up from tidying the living room, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Of course, princess. Let's see what we need to get from your shelf," he replied, following her. 

Nari led him to her bedroom, pointing excitedly at a high shelf where her favorite outfit was stored. "I want to wear my special, yellow dress today," she explained, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "It's up there, but I can't reach it." 

Jongho chuckled softly, appreciating her independence and enthusiasm. "No problem, Nari. Let's get that dress for you," he said, reaching up to grab the outfit. As he handed it to her, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the little girl who had quickly found a special place in his heart. 

Nari took the dress from him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Uncle! You're the best," she said, hugging the dress to her chest. "I can't wait to show everyone my special dress and my new car." 

Jongho's heart warmed at her words, and he ruffled her hair gently. "You're going to look beautiful, princess. Let's get you dressed and ready to go meet the uncles," he said, feeling a sense of pride and joy as he watched her excitement. Nari nodded eagerly, her smile widening as she hurried to put on her special dress. Jongho stood by, ready to assist if needed, "Can you show me where you keep your tights? It's a bit chilly outside, and we need to put them on," Jongho asked gently, looking down at Nari with a warm smile. 

Nari pointed to a drawer with a determined look. "They're in there," she said confidently. Jongho opened the drawer and Nari quickly found a pair of tights that matched her dress perfectly. "Good choice, princess, the bees on thighs will look pretty with the yellow dress" he complimented, taking her to his lap to help her put them on. "Now you're all set to go." 

"I need to pack my backpack," she smiled, her excitement evident. "And I need to put on my earrings," she continued, starting to count on her fingers with a look of determination. "We also need to make up my bed before leaving! Oh, and I can't forget my bunny," she added, glancing around the room as if mentally checking off each task. "There's so much left to do!" 

Jongho chuckled, appreciating her thoroughness. "Alright, princess," he said warmly, "let's tackle everything one step at a time. I'll help you with your bag first, then we can find your earrings and make your bed together. How does that sound?" 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "That sounds perfect!" she said, grabbing her small backpack from her desk and starting to fill it with her essentials. 

Jongho felt a swell of affection as he watched her diligently prepare for their outing. Firstly, Nari packed her crayons, and a coloring book. She looked around the room again to ensure she got all she wanted with her. "Let's make sure we have everything we need, and then we'll be ready to go on our adventure." Once Nari had packed her bag and put on her earrings, Jongho helped her make the bed, they worked together, laughing and chatting, and soon the room was neat and tidy. "All set, princess?" Jongho asked, giving her a warm smile. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she handed Jongho her beloved stuffed toy, a soft, pink bunny that she affectionately called Woo. "Can you take Woo for me? And my bag? So, I can take my car with me," she asked, her voice filled with anticipation and trust. 

Jongho smiled warmly, taking the stuffed bunny and her small backpack. "Of course, princess. I'll take good care of Woo and your bag," he reassured her, his tone gentle and affectionate. He slung her bag over his shoulder and carefully cradled the stuffed bunny in his other arm. 

Nari beamed up at him, "Thank you, Uncle Jongho! I can't wait to show everyone my new car," she said, clutching the toy tightly in her small hands. The prospect of the day's adventures filled her with joy, and she could hardly contain her enthusiasm. 

Jongho chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride and happiness as he watched her. "You're very welcome, Nari. Let's get going and show everyone just how amazing your new car is," he said, leading her towards the door. Jongho gathered both his and Nari's belongings, carefully organizing everything to ensure they had what they needed for the day. He then secured the child seat under one arm, while gently lifting Nari into his other arm. She wrapped her tiny arms tightly around his neck, her head resting against his shoulder. The warmth of her embrace filled him with a sense of peace and purpose. As he balanced the child seat and Nari, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself, silently thanking San for all those rigorous gym sessions that now made it easier to handle such moments. With everything in place, Jongho felt a renewed sense of determination and affection as they headed out, ready to embark on their adventure together.  

As they walked out of the apartment and headed towards the parking lot, Nari's cheerful chatter filled the air. She talked excitedly about all the things she wanted to do with her new car, her imagination running wild with possibilities. Jongho listened attentively, his heart swelling with affection for the little girl. "I bet Uncle Wooyoung is going to be so impressed," Nari said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I can't wait to see their faces when they see my car zoom around!" 

Jongho nodded, sharing her enthusiasm. "I'm sure they will be. Your car is cool, and I know they'll love it just as much as you do," he replied, his tone filled with warmth and encouragement. 

As Jongho approached the car, he struggled to figure out how to properly install the child seat. His hands fumbled with the straps, and he let out a frustrated sigh. Just then, he noticed a young man a few cars away, facing a similar challenge. The man was holding a small girl, who seemed to be around Nari's age, and had a tiny baby in a carrier strapped to his chest. Determined to get some help, Jongho decided to approach the man. "Excuse me?" he called out, his voice polite but tinged with urgency. "Could you help me with this child seat? I'm having a bit of trouble." 

The young man looked up from his own struggle, his face softening with understanding. "Sure thing, just give me a moment," he replied, shifting the baby carrier slightly to free one hand. He walked over to Jongho, his small daughter trailing behind him, and offered a reassuring smile. "These can be a real pain, can't they?" 

Jongho nodded, grateful for the assistance. "Absolutely. I appreciate your help," he said, stepping aside to give the man better access to the seat. As the young man expertly adjusted the straps and secured the child seat, Jongho couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. "You've got your hands full," Jongho commented, nodding towards the baby and the little girl. 

The man chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, it's a bit hectic, but I wouldn't trade it for anything," he said warmly. "You'll get the hang of it. Just takes a bit of practice." 

Jongho smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. "Thanks again. It means a lot," he said sincerely. 

"We dads need to help each other, right?" The guy smiled at him, and Jongho couldn't help but smile back, nodding gently. 

"Yeah, you're absolutely right," Jongho replied, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "It's nice to know there are other dads willing to lend a hand when you need it." 

The man adjusted the baby carrier on his chest and nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. Parenting can be challenging, but the love of your kids makes it all worthwhile." 

With the child seat now properly installed, he gave the man a grateful smile. "Thanks again. You've been a huge help," he said, feeling a sense of relief. 

The man waved it off with a kind smile. "No problem at all. Take care and have a great day with your little daughter," he replied, heading back to his own car. 

"Daughter?" Nari repeated the word, her big brown eyes looking up at Jongho, curiosity evident in her gaze. 

Jongho smiled gently, crouching down to her level. "Yes, princess. He thought you were my daughter," he explained softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "And in many ways, you are very special to me, just like a daughter." 

Nari's face lit up with a smile, and she wrapped her small arms around Jongho's neck. "I like that, Uncle Jongho," she said, her voice filled with affection. "Mommy told me I will meet my daddy soon, and I hope he will be just like you." 

Jongho's heart swelled with emotion at Nari's words. He gently held her tighter, feeling a deep sense of affection and responsibility. "Thank you, princess. That means a lot to me," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "I know your daddy will be wonderful, and until then, I'll always be here for you." 

Nari smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "You're the best," she said, her voice filled with certainty. Jongho felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at the little girl in his arms. He wished with all his heart that he could tell her right away, that he could let out the words he had been holding back. He longed to hear her call him daddy, to feel the warmth of that precious word fill the air between them. But he knew he couldn’t just tell her. Not yet. It wasn’t the right time, and he had to wait for the perfect moment to reveal the truth, no matter how much it pained him to keep it inside. With a deep breath, Jongho gently kissed Nari's forehead. 

He carefully placed Nari in her seat, ensuring that she was securely fastened. He double-checked the straps, making sure they were snug but comfortable. Once he was satisfied that everything was in place, he closed the car door gently and walked around to the driver's side. 

As he settled into the driver's seat, Jongho glanced back at Nari through the rearview mirror. "Are you comfortable, princess?" he asked, his voice filled with warmth and concern. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, Uncle! I'm ready to go!" she replied, clutching her remote-controlled car tightly. 

Jongho smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. He started the car, "Alright, let's get going," he said, pulling out of the parking spot and heading towards their destination. As he began driving towards the studio, Jongho couldn't help but glance at Nari through the rearview mirror. She was happily playing with her car, her face full of joy and innocence. The sight filled him with a sense of determination. He wanted to make sure she always felt safe, loved, and cherished. Jongho’s playlist was playing softly in the background as he drove, the gentle hum of the engine and the music creating a peaceful atmosphere.  

Suddenly, an ATEEZ song began to play, and Nari's eyes widened with excitement. She sat up straighter in her seat, her face lighting up with recognition. "Uncle! It's your song! It’s Wave!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy and wonder. "Play it louder, please!" 

Jongho glanced back at her through the rearview mirror, a smile spreading across his face at her enthusiasm. "You like this song?" he asked, reaching for the volume knob. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling. "Yes! I love it! ATEEZ are the best singers!" Feeling a swell of pride, Jongho turned up the volume, letting the familiar melody fill the car. As the music played, Nari began to sing along, her sweet voice mingling with the song. Jongho couldn't help but join in, his deep, melodic voice harmonizing with hers. The car was filled with the joyful sound of their singing, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. It was just the two of them, sharing this special moment together. Jongho felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the bond they started to create. 

As the song ended, Nari's laughter rang out, pure and happy. "That was so fun, Uncle Jongho! Can we sing more of your songs?" 

Jongho chuckled, his heart full. "Of course, princess. As many as you like. What's your favorite ATEEZ song?" Jongho asked, glancing back at her through the rearview mirror with a smile. 

Nari thought for a moment, her face lighting up. "I think it's Wonderland! It's so exciting and makes me want to dance!" she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. 

Jongho chuckled, "That's a great choice, princess. Let's play Wonderland next, and we can sing together!" he said, reaching for the music system to queue up the song. 

"Or maybe you could sing Everything for me?" she suggested, her eyes wide with anticipation. "It's mommy's favorite, and I always sing it for her." Nari's voice was filled with a mixture of excitement and a hint of nostalgia, as if the song held a special place in her heart. 

Jongho's heart softened at her request, and he couldn't help but smile. "Of course, princess," he replied warmly. "I'd be honored to sing it for you." He adjusted the car's music system, finding the song and letting the soft melody fill the car. As Jongho sang the heartfelt lyrics, his voice was filled with deep emotion. Each word carried the weight of his memories and feelings for you. The song was a reminder of the love and connection you shared, making it both a beautiful and bittersweet experience. Jongho's voice trembled slightly as he conveyed the longing and regret expressed in the lyrics, yet also the enduring love that persisted despite the passage of time. Glancing back through the rearview mirror, Jongho saw Nari's eyes sparkling with joy as she listened intently. Her small hands were clasped together, cherishing every note. The sight filled him with a sense of purpose and determination. He wanted Nari to feel the depth of his emotions and understand just how much you, her mom, meant to him, and by extension, how much Nari herself was cherished and loved. 

When the song ended, Nari's eyes were shining with happiness. "Thank you, Uncle Jongho," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "Mommy always says that Everything is the most beautiful song." 

Jongho could feel his eyes swelling up with tears, he blinked qucikly to get rid of them, worrying about how his little girl would react. "I'm glad Mommy thinks that" he replied, his voice tenderly. "Your mommy is special to me, and I'm happy she likes my solo song," Jongho said softly, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. 

Nari's eyes sparkled with curiosity and affection. "Mommy says your songs make her feel better when she's sad," she shared, her voice soft and earnest. "She always sings along with them, and it makes me happy too." 

Jongho's heart swelled with emotion at her words. "That means so much to me, Nari," he replied gently. "Music has a special way of connecting people and bringing joy, and I'm glad my songs can do that for you and your mommy. You both hold a very special place in my heart." 

As they continued their journey, Jongho felt a sense of peace settle over him. He cherished these moments with Nari, knowing that each one was building a deeper bond between them. The thought of seeing the rest of the members and sharing this special part of his life with them filled him with anticipation and warmth. 

They finally pulled into the studio parking lot, he parked the car and turned to Nari with a warm smile. "We're here, princess. Are you ready to meet Uncle Wooyoung and the others?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation. 

Nari nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes! I can't wait!" she replied, clutching her car tightly. 

Jongho was about to leave the car when he noticed a few fans taking pictures of the KQ building. As his car came into view, it ignited a ripple of excitement among the fans, their expressions lighting up with anticipation. They craned their necks and murmured to each other, clearly eager to see which member of ATEEZ had arrived. Jongho took a deep breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and responsibility. He knew that these fans were part of the reason why he and the group had come so far. But they couldn't have picked a worse time to be here. He sighed deeply, contemplating his limited options. Staying in the car any longer would only raise suspicion among the fans, who were already buzzing with excitement and anticipation. They would undoubtedly start to wonder what was taking him so long to get out. The last thing he wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to himself and, more importantly, to Nari. Taking her inside with him was out of the question. The moment one of the fans snapped a picture, it would spread like wildfire across social media, sparking rumors and causing a scandal right away. Jongho knew he had to be cautious. The privacy and safety of Nari were paramount, and he couldn't risk exposing her to the public eye in such an unplanned manner. He glanced back at Nari, who was clutching her toy with wide eyes, clearly sensing the tension in the air. Jongho's mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. He needed to find a way to get inside without attracting too much attention and without putting Nari in the spotlight. He took a deep breath, his mind working quickly to formulate a plan. He considered calling one of the other members for assistance, but that would take time and might still draw attention. He needed a distraction, something to divert the fans' focus away from the car long enough for him to safely get Nari inside. As he weighed his options, Jongho's phone buzzed with a message. It was from San, asking if he had arrived yet. A spark of hope ignited within him. Maybe, just maybe, San could help create a diversion. Jongho quickly typed a response, explaining the situation and asking for his help. Within moments, San replied with a plan. He would come out and engage with the fans, drawing their attention while Jongho made his way inside with Nari. It wasn't foolproof, but it was the best option they had. 

Jongho looked back at Nari, giving her a reassuring smile. "Alright, princess, we're going to need a little help from Uncle San. Just hug me tightly, and everything will be fine," he said gently, his voice filled with determination and warmth. Nari nodded, her trust in him unwavering. Jongho felt a surge of affection and responsibility as he prepared to put their plan into action. He waited for San's signal, ready to move swiftly and protectively. 

As San stepped out of the building and greeted the fans with his usual charm, Jongho saw his opportunity. He carefully unbuckled Nari from her seat, lifting her into his arms. With her stuffed animal in one hand and Nari securely in the other, Jongho quietly exited the vehicle, keeping his movements smooth and deliberate. San’s presence had the desired effect. The fans were momentarily distracted, their attention fully captured by the charismatic idol. Jongho moved swiftly but calmly, making his way towards the entrance with Nari held close to his chest. She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, her face nestled against his neck, trusting him completely. They reached the entrance without incident, slipping inside the building just as the fans began to realize what was happening. Jongho breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for San’s quick thinking and support. He looked down at Nari, who was gazing up at him with wide, trusting eyes. 

"Good job, princess," Jongho whispered, his voice filled with both relief and pride. Nari nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. Jongho knew he still had to be cautious, but for now, they had successfully navigated a potentially risky situation. He felt a renewed sense of determination to protect Nari and ensure that she always felt safe and loved. As they made their way deeper into the building, Jongho couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for San’s support. He sent a quick text to San, thanking him for the help and letting him know they had made it inside safely. San replied with a thumbs-up emoji and a promise to join them soon. With a sigh of relief, Jongho carried Nari through the familiar hallways of the headquarters, her small arms still wrapped around his neck. They reached the practice room where the rest of the ATEEZ members were gathered, eagerly awaiting their arrival. 

[kortsitron]

Corruption

✮ PARING Hobie Brown × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS reader realizes he's trans, pre-transition reader, religious themes, christianity, fluff, angst, supportive! hobie, reader is referred to as a girl/daughter in some moments, hobie and reader are both young adults, gender dysphoria, toxic parents, abuse, transphobia, cursing, reader is referred by she/her by his parents, happy ending

✮ SUMMARY A stranger comes to your town and helps you realize who you are

✮ A/N  If you know me, you probably know my opinion on Christianity and religion in general, but I won't lie, I kinda like the religious themes. Especially when it's about being taken out of it and realizing that the world has so much to offer once you leave it. I guess it's my type of thing since I have been raised as a catholic little ‘girl’ and now I hate religion with pure passion after having it shown down my throat for years when I was younger. One more thing, if you're not comfortable, please do not read this. I am aware there are people who can be triggered by any of the things mentioned in the warnings/tags. If you decide to read this, I hope you're going to enjoy it! <3

In a way inspired by confessions by @eyesxxyou

ao3 masterlist requests

You were such a perfect girl in everyone's eyes. Always so nice and polite, obedient towards your parents, in church every Sunday. You were so feminine, so lovely. Always wore those pretty dresses and skirts of yours, along with the necklace with virgin Mary on your pretty neck. And your gorgeous long hair. You were a perfection to everyone around you.

But you didn't feel perfect in the slightest.

You felt so wrong for some reason you couldn't quite name. Your body felt like a cage you couldn't get out of and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you wanted to cut your hair, hide your body under some baggy clothing and yell at everyone who called you a girl. But obviously you couldn't do that, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't want people to look at you weirdly, to call you a freak. 

So you decided to stay quiet, knowing that nothing was going to change because you were too scared to do it on your own. Scared of judgment and scared of being abandoned. 

All you did was pray that your sinful fantasies would simply go away. But instead of them going away, something else happened. Like the prayers from the depth of your heart have been heard and finally answered.

You saw him after the Sunday mass, as you were standing next to your mother while she was talking with someone else. He was nothing like you've ever seen before. Those piercing glistening in the sunlight just like the spikes on his vest. The distressed pants with patches and chains. And those heavy boots. He was the definition of perfection, definitely not to those around you, but for you without a doubt.

You have caught eye contact with that beautiful stranger. His stunning brown eyes stared into yours as he smirked at you. He probably thought you were just a pretty girl, you assumed. After all, why would he think differently?

“Do not look at him.” Your mother scolded you, grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face her. You could see the disgust on her face. You’ve never seen her with that kind of grimace on her face. “I do not want to see you near him. I can already tell he's no good.”

She didn't say it, but you could already tell she saw him as the embodiment of everything that was sinful. And the last thing she wanted was her precious daughter to stray from God's path.

You glanced at the punk for the last time before your mother said that you were going home. He still watched you. He wasn't sure what it was about you that made him want to get to know you. But something inside him told him that you needed him.

Since then you saw him around the town, but you didn't dare to come close to him. You felt a rush of excitement in your stomach every time you saw him, saw that smirk of his. You didn't have anyone who excited you the way he did. But he indeed did excite you, but you couldn't even talk to him, being scared your parents might yell at you.

Everything changed when you were peacefully reading the bible on the bench next to the church. It was so warm and sunny, so you picked a spot under a tree. Your hair was made into a long braid that was getting more loose without you noticing. 

You then heard someone sit next to you. You looked up from the bible to see him. That beautiful punk, smirking at you shamelessly. He looked even better up close. 

“Hello, luv. I'm Hobie.” His voice was lower than you thought it would be. But it sounded so good, so smooth you could almost melt. His eyes looked from your face to the bible you held your hand, then back to your face. You started wondering what was on his mind. “What's your name, hmm?”

You bashfully told him your name. You weren't sure how to act. Was he expecting you to pretend to be this perfect girl everyone perceived you as? Or maybe he was finally someone that could let you be yourself? Either way, you were scared to find out.

He chuckled at your bashful reaction. Your cheeks got pink so quickly. You were just so adorable. And so… innocent. But you had a feeling he could see right through you. See that all of this was just a facade and under all of it, there was a real you, trying to get to the surface. Trying to be free.

“Have you ever listened to punk rock?” Hobie asked out of nowhere. You blinked. You? Listening to loud, unapologetic music? You could never do that. At least not without worrying about being judged.

Finally you shook your head and his smirk widened. “Darlin’, we have to change that immediately.” He saw you shake your head even more. 

You heard about punk rock. The unapologetic and loud music for brutal men who have abandoned God's ways and all the rules. At least that's what you have been told by your mother. “They are good for nothing but corrupting the minds of pretty girls like you. And I cannot let that happen.” She told you and you wondered if Hobie was that type of punk. The type to ruin you and corrupt you.

“I-I can't. I am not allowed to listen to that kind of music.” You looked down at the bible in your hands, you couldn't look Hobie in the eyes. You expected him to think you were weird for not being allowed to listen to what you wanted. But all you wanted was to avoid conflict.

Hobie's face went from confusion to smirk again. “Oh please. I can see that there's a little rebel hidden behind those pretty innocent eyes.” So he indeed could right through you.

You nervously played with your hair, wanting to both agree and refuse. And in a quick moment, your beautiful braid was untied. “Oh no.” You watched your hairband fall onto the grass. Hobie noticed it too. He moved and grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off from all the dirt. “Allow me.” He spoke so softly. You weren't sure if you should allow him to touch you in any way, but he just wanted to help you tie your hair, right? 

You decided not to overthink it, sitting with your back facing him, so he could tie your hair. You didn't expect it, but he was so gentle with your hair. No harsh hair pulling. His fingers parted your hand so nicely before he began to braid it. You almost melted.

And soon, you had your pretty braid again. Not as perfect as you could have done it, but it was still really nice. “Thank you so much, Hobie.” You said quietly before excusing yourself and saying you had to go. His eyes softened, he only nodded, asking if he could talk to you again. “I hate to say it, but I can't be seen with you.” 

Hobie sighed, his fingertip tapped at his lip ring, he seemed lost in thoughts. “And if we meet in secret?” He looked down at you, you were so short compared to him. “You can come over to my place, no one will know you were with me and I could show you some of my world.” He spoke so proudly when he mentioned introducing you to his world. And even though you technically shouldn't be meeting him, you were more than curious. So you agreed at last.

Obviously, someone saw you with Hobie. Your parents weren't proud of you for talking to him. You had no other choice than to lie, just like you did when it came to who you really felt about yourself. 

Yes, I like this dress. 

Yes, I like those shoes.

Yes, my hair is so pretty when it's so long.

Yes, I am a girl.

You had to lie, even though you wish you didn't have to. But you hoped that at the end of the day, when you were praying before going to sleep, God would forgive you for lying to everyone around you. He would understand, right?

So, as always, you lied, telling your parents that Hobie asked for some help because he was a newcomer and didn't know the town very well. Your parents weren't happy you talked to him, but knew, or at least believed, you were too good and polite to refuse to help him. They didn't think twice about it, allowing you to go to your room. They didn't mention Hobie braiding your hair, so you just assumed they didn't know about it, so you decided not to mention it either. It was better to keep your mouth shut.

You were careful when the day of visiting Hobie came. You told your parents that you went to study the bible at your friend's house. They didn't suspect a thing. You made sure no one could see you as you made your way to Hobie's apartment. And soon enough, you were in front of the door of his apartment.

You knocked lightly, heard the sound of locks being unlocked and then the door finally opened. You saw Hobie and he looked at you with that same softness like the last time. But this time he rubbed one eye with a cotton pad. You had a look of confusion on your face when you saw that.

“Come in, luv.” He moved so you could come inside, but instead of looking around, you watched him.

“Are you… wiping off your makeup?” The question sounded so stupid in your mind. Men weren't wearing makeup… right?

Hobie chuckled softly before going to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off more precisely in front of the mirror. You saw a few small eyeshadow palettes with bright eyeshadow in them, along with eyeliner and even two lipsticks. Even you didn't own that much makeup, you barely had any makeup since your parents didn't want you to paint your face like a whore.

“Yeah. I have been to a small party outside the town, so I wanted to look me best.” Hobie explained, before throwing a dirty pad into the bin. He then turned to you, it was obvious that you never saw a man wearing makeup before. You've never seen someone like him before. He allowed himself to check you out, you had a long skirt and a cute top that matched the skirt so well. “I am guessing you never wore the kind of makeup I usually go for?”

His hand grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes and gave it to you, so you could see the inside better. You didn't think much and opened it. You hand one makeup palette and it was mostly light browns, one a little more glittery eyeshadow and two light pinks. But Hobie’s? It was so colorful. Red, blue, green and yellow. All of them so bright and pigmented.

He smiled when he saw your reaction, he felt excitement in his stomach. You looked stunned. “Why don't I finally show you that punk rock?” He left the bathroom and you followed him. His apartment was a little messy. Posters on every wall, some chokers and other jewelry scattered in some places and some clothes laying around. But his room was even better. It was so… him. You could see the room scream Hobie. Even more posters, a guitar. It might have been a little messy, but it had so much character.

Hobie moved to the old cd player and in the matter of seconds, the loud music played. Black Flag on full volume. At first you weren't sure what to think, but soon, you started loving it. You stopped caring about anything when the music played, banging your head to the rhythm. At first a little shyly, but then you were more confident about it, not caring if you were going to mess up your hair. You looked so happy, you felt so happy. It has been since you felt like that.

Even since Hobie came here, he finally saw your smile, the real and sincere smile on that face of yours. But he saw it falter when Can't Decide by the Black Flag started playing.

Sun's coming up and I can't decide

To spill my emotions or keep them inside

Go for a drive, go to the store

I'm looking for something that can't be bought there

I always wear a smile

Because anything but a smile would make me have to explain

And they wouldn't understand anyway

And they wouldn't understand anyway

I conceal my feelings so I won't have to explain

What I can't explain anyway

It hit so close to home, you almost started sobbing. Hobie saw it immediately and turned the music off. He sat next to you, one arm around you while he rubbed your arm with the other to comfort you. He barely knew you, but he was so concerned about your well being already. “What happened, dove?” He asked so quietly, almost as if he was scared he might make you start crying just by asking.

But you weren't ready to admit what has been going inside your head for months. And he could see that so well. A few tears went down your cheeks so you asked for a tissue. You smudged your makeup a bit, but luckily Hobie was able to fix it with the only brown palette he owned, the one had forgotten about since he never used it.

You gathered your things and apologized. “Don't apologize, luv. Just know you can come and talk about what's going on in that pretty head of yours.” You only nodded before leaving. 

Your parents weren't home by the time you came back, they were probably in the neighbor's house, talking and eating how they did once in a while. Probably praising you how good and obedient you were, and how they were happy to have a daughter like you.

And after that situation at Hobie's place, it became harder to pretend. It became hard not to cry when you were called a perfect daughter, pretty girl and beautiful woman. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to talk with someone about it. And the only person who would not judge you was Hobie. 

It has been a while since you talked to him. But you came back, trembling, looking like you were about to start crying at any given moment. Hobie didn't think twice, he just let you in, sat down on the floor while he seated you on his bed. His calloused hands found yours and he caressed them gently in order to comfort you.

And finally, after all this time, you opened up about what has been on your mind for all those months. You explained how you felt trapped in your own body, how you hated being seen as a girl and how much it hurt when you were called and seen as one. How much you just wanted to be yourself.

Hobie's eyes softened, his hand touched your delicate cheek as his thumb stroked it. You didn't flinch away from his touch, instead you leaned into his hand, enjoying the way he touched you. “Darlin’, I think you might be trans.”

“I might be what?” Your nose was already stuffed from all that crying, making your voice sound funny. Hobie sighed before his lips curled into the soften of smiled. 

“Trans, hun.” You still looked confused, but he wasn't going to blame you. You've been living in a place where you were too scared to be yourself, you couldn't name your feelings even though you have been feeling them for months. It was obvious these people weren't talking about things like that, at least not in the way that would make you want to explore those feelings.

“It's uh, it's when your body doesn't match how you feel on the inside. Like you, you have been born as a woman, but you don't feel like one, don't you?” You shook your head, of course you didn't feel like a woman. Thinking about yourself as a woman didn't feel right. 

Hobie got an idea. “Why don't you go to the bathroom and take all of that off? I'll bring ya some clothes and then you'll tell me how you feel.” He helped you with making your way to the bathroom and closed the door after you. You took off the dress, standing in nothing more than your underwear. It felt a bit less suffocating to not be wearing that stupid dress.

Soon, you heard Hobie knock on the door. “I have some stuff I think might look good on you.” You covered yourself with the towel that was near you, not wanting for Hobie to see your body. But he didn't even peek in, instead he held the clothes for you, letting you grab them before he quickly closed the door behind him.

You looked down at the clothes. Some distressed jeans with patches and studded belt, white shirt with some graffiti, which you assumed was decorated by Hobie himself and even some hand warmers to match the outfit.

You had put on the outfit and left the bathroom, only to see Hobie waiting for you. His eyes sparkled when he saw you. And he could see it in your face that you felt better. He looked so excited for you.

But you still had that long braid. “Let me…” Hobie murmured before you felt him touch your hair again. You weren't sure what he did exactly, but when you stepped in front of the mirror, your hair looked so short. It wasn't perfect, but you loved how your hair looked, way more than it looked in a braid, ponytail or any other hairstyle you were used to. You looked like a boy, and you were so happy.

At that very moment, you knew you couldn't go back to how your life was before. You couldn't go back to wearing dresses, praying to the God that probably never listened to you and did not care about you. You could no longer pretend that you were the perfect girl you were seen as until now.

Hobie's hands grabbed you by your shoulder. “Do you want me to call by a different name?” He asked, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as he rubbed your shoulders. You thought about it for a moment, before looking up at him and speaking up. “Do you think [Name] would suit me?”

Hobie chuckled and nodded. “Definitely, luv. Definitely.” He couldn't help himself and softly kissed your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but you enjoyed it.

“I want you to cut my hair. I want it short..” You said so suddenly, your voice was a little shaky, but you couldn't wait anymore. You have wanted to cut it for a while and you didn't want anyone else other than Hobie to do it. He was surprised by you. He didn't expect you to want to do it now.

“Are you su–” 

“Yes, I am sure.” You cut him off, you didn't want to be mean, but you couldn't wait any longer. “Please… I don't want to go back to what was before. I don't want to pretend to be someone who I am not.” You begged, you sounded so desperate. He couldn't say no to you when you sounded like that.

“Okay.” He said, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he took you to the bathroom. He brought a small stool and seated you on it. He grabbed a scissors, untied your hair, looking at it for the last time before he started cutting it. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach swirling with anxiety, as you listened to the sound of the scissors cutting your hair.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

You felt your hair, your hair that you got so many compliments on, tickling your arms and neck before it fell down on the bathroom floor. “Done.” Hobie said, his voice was flat. It made you worry. Did you look bad? Did he mess up your hair? Was it a mistake?

He brushed the cut hair off of you, before you stood up and looked in the mirror. It was not perfect, but it still made you feel good. You started sobbing immediately. “Dove? Are you alright?” Hobie asked, worried and a little panicked.

“I've never felt better.” You sobbed out and he sighed, relieved that you liked it. He hugged you tightly, being so glad to see you happy with who you were.

But it couldn't go on forever. You came home pretty late, still wearing the clothes Hobie gave you earlier. And in the hoodie he gave so you wouldn't be cold while coming back home. You knew confrontation wouldn't be something you were able to avoid . And you knew it wouldn't be a light confrontation either.

Your parents were sitting in the living room. As soon as you closed the front door behind you, you heard your father call you by the name you no longer wished to be called by. You took a deep breath, pulling a hood over your head before you entered the living room. Your parents eyes were immediately on you, your mother gasped loudly.

“What the fuck is that!?” Your father yelled, he stood up and grabbed you by the hood and yanked it off your head. He intended to grab you by your hair, but there was nothing to grab. Your lovely long hair was long gone and there was nothing they could do about it. In a way, that made you proud.

“What have you done to yourself!?” Your mother shouted with tears in her eyes. You've never seen her crying and you didn't expect her to get so emotional. She always seemed so cold. “Where's your hair? Your dress?” She's never been so panicked. “What will we say to the others once they see that your hair is gone? What will they think of us? What will they think of you?”

There was this need to apologize, turn the time back and never let yourself explore who you really were. But you weren't going to let this need win. You have been obedient for way too long. You were pretending for way too long and now? You were tired of it.

“I don't fucking care what are they going to think of me!” You shouted back. Both of your parents were startled by the fact that you just cursed. They never heard you curse, nor did they hear you sound so confident. “I have been pretending to be someone who I wasn't me for way too long. I am not going to let you decide about how I am anymore!” 

Slap!

Your father slapped you so hard you fell to the floor. Your cheek was all red already. You and your mother were both shocked. Your father was about to take his belt off and start beating you, but your mother stopped him. “I am sure there's something we can do instead of beating her up. People will notice and they might think we were the one to cut her hair off. We can buy a wig until her hair grows back.”

“I am not growing it back and I am not putting the dresses back on.” You hissed. Maybe you shouldn't have done that, but you ripped off the virgin Mary necklace off your neck and threw it.

Your parents were more than shocked at your action. “She must have been corrupted by that punk!” Your mother cried out. “What are we going to–” Your father lost his temper. Instead of beating you up like he initially planned, he grabbed you and threw you out the door. “I no longer have a daughter!” It was the last thing you heard before he closed the door.

Soon, your father started throwing your things out the window. All those gorgeous dresses and skirts flying out the window. Before you were terrified to even slightly rip them and now? You didn't care that they got dirty, they stopped mattering to you. You only waited for your father to throw your phone. You wanted to catch it, but it fell onto the concrete, the phone screen broke, but luckily for you, you still were able to use it. You grabbed some more important things that your father had thrown and then made your way to Hobie's apartment.

He was concerned, but both of you knew it was better that way. If you stayed, nothing would change and everything would go worse. More praying, more femininity, more pretending. But you weren't going to stay with your parents, luckily Hobie said you could stay with him.

You were laying with Hobie in his bed. You were so lost in your thoughts and he could see it clearly. Hobie laid on his side to face you, the tips of his fingers brushed against your jaw to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “You okay?” You put your hands on your face and sighed.

“I'm fine. It’s just… I've wanted to be myself for a while and I…” You paused for a moment, not looking into Hobie's eyes. In a way, it all felt unreal. Usually, you would now be in your bed, reading the bible or praying. And now, you were laying with a man you didn't know very well, but he gave you everything you could have asked for. Acceptance, help and hope. 

Your eyes finally met his again. “I didn't expect that it would actually happen. I thought I was going to be everyone's perfect girl until I die, but you came into my life and changed everything. Thank you so much for that.” You smiled at him, you were so grateful he came into your life. He smiled back at you and leaned to kiss your cheek.

“You're very welcome, luv.” 

You both left the town as quickly as you could since that happened. Now, it has been 6 years since the day you met him. Everything has been truly perfect since then. Your transition was going well and you recently had your top surgery.

And Hobie? He was with you the whole time. During the first appointment at the doctor, he helped you take your first testosterone shot and he held your hand both before and after the surgery.

Life couldn't be more perfect and you never felt more perfect.

taglist: @sk3llly

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ War Chapter 1

Trigger Warnings: none

Lucas Bahng, the born Apex Alpha, liked to think being untouchable was one of his best traits. Being the son of the legendary alpha Christopher Bahng helped. People at school avoided picking fights with him, and the few who dared learned quickly why that was a mistake. Of course, he had the temperament and attitude of his mother Y/N, the Luna, the Omega. Then there was Lucas' younger brother Moon, who was always two steps ahead of him in class and ready to remind him of it at every turn. They even shared classes together. Werewolf lore, art, history, maths, they were together. Even though Lucas was fourteen and Moon was thirteen. The two, however always got up to no good together. They liked to go exploring after school when they were supposed to return home by a certain time, otherwise they would get into trouble with their fathers. By fathers they meant Minho along with Felix who were massive worriers.

"You're going to get us in trouble," Moon said as the two of them skidded to a halt at the edge of the packhouse yard. His voice was quiet but firm, as always. Moon didn't shout or scold. He didn't need to. Lucas rolled his eyes and flicked the collar of his jacket. "Not if you keep up," he said, grinning. He didn't like being told what to do, especially by his younger brother.

They had slipped out of the house early that morning, ducking their father's sharp gaze and the ever-watchful eyes of their many siblings. Breakfast was chaotic as usual, with Holly, Seungmins daughter screaming about not getting the last pancake and Astra, Hyunjins daughter the twin of Sun, knocking over the juice carton. Lucas had barely gotten out the door before Chan cornered him about sports practice. All because he was failing class. Lucas hated sports. Not because he couldn't play—he was decent enough—but because Chan was a mean teacher. Chan was tough on him at school but once he was home he was spoiled rotten. His father adored him.

The moment Chan turned his attention to Moon, Lucas bolted, dragging his brother with him. "Where are we even going?" Moon asked, his dark eyes narrowing. "You know father will here about this. He'll tell father Chan and father Seungmin. Father Seungmin is already grumpy this morning because Sun spilt his drink." Lucas smirked. "Then I guess we don't get caught."

The morning was brisk, the kind that nipped at their skin but didn't quite bite. The forest surrounding the packhouse stretched endlessly, towering pines blotting out the rising sun. Lucas knew these woods like the back of his hand. He and Moon had spent years exploring them, sneaking away from lessons, and pretending to be lone wolves on some grand adventure. But today, the forest felt... different. "Do you smell that?" Moon asked suddenly, sniffing the air. Lucas paused, tilting his head. The breeze carried the usual scents of pine and earth, but beneath it was something sharp, metallic. His heart quickened. "Yeah. It's weird." Moon's hand brushed his arm. "We should go back. This isn't normal." "Relax," Lucas said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "It's probably just an old trap or something. We'll check it out and head back before anyone notices we're gone."

The two moved deeper into the woods, the trees closing in around them. The metallic scent grew stronger, mingling with something else, something rotting. Lucas forced down the uneasiness bubbling in his chest. He was an apex, the son of an alpha. He didn't get scared. Still, he couldn't ignore the way Moon was gripping his sleeve now, his quiet demeanor replaced with tension. "Look," Moon whispered. Ahead, the trees parted into a small clearing. At its center stood an old, crumbling house. Vines snaked up its walls, and the windows were dark, like empty sockets in a skull. But what caught Lucas' attention wasn't the house itself, it was the circle surrounding it.

A faint, shimmering barrier encased the house, pulsing with a dark aura. Shadows twisted and writhed within it, and the air buzzed with a low hum, like the growl of a predator waiting to strike. "What is that?" Moon whispered, his voice barely audible. Lucas stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. The barrier was alive, almost breathing. The shadows inside moved with purpose, their shapes flickering between humanoid and monstrous. "Trapped souls," Moon said, his voice trembling. "We learned about this in lore class. That's—" "I know what it is," Lucas snapped, cutting him off. He didn't like the way his chest tightened at the sight of the barrier. He didn't like the way the shadows seemed to notice them, pressing against the edge of the circle as if testing its strength. "Let's go," Moon said, tugging at Lucas' arm. "We shouldn't be here." But Lucas didn't move. Something inside the house was calling to him. It wasn't a voice, not exactly, but a pull, like a thread tugging at the edge of his mind. He took a step forward, and the hum grew louder. "Lucas!" Moon's voice was sharper now, edged with panic. "I'm just looking," Lucas said, though his feet carried him closer. He reached out a hand, hesitating just before touching the barrier. The air around it was cold, and the shadows surged, their shapes twisting violently.

Then he heard it. Lucas. The voice was faint, barely more than a whisper, but it was there. Lucas froze, his heart hammering. "Did you hear that?" Moon shook his head, his eyes wide. "Hear what?" Lucas. Moon. This time, the voice was stronger, more insistent. Lucas turned to Moon, but his brother was already backing away, shaking his head furiously. "We need to go. Now. We need to tell father"

Before Lucas could respond, the barrier flickered, and the shadows parted. For a brief moment, he saw a figure standing in the doorway of the house. It was hard to make out through the swirling darkness, but the figure was tall, with an aura that made the hair on the back of Lucas' neck stand up. "Who are you?" Lucas called out, his voice trembling despite himself. The figure didn't answer. Instead, the voice came again, directly in Lucas' mind Help me.

The barrier pulsed, and the figure stepped forward. Lucas could see him more clearly now. He was young, maybe in his twenties, with sharp features and eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light. His expression was calm, almost serene, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made Lucas shiver. "My name..." the figure said aloud, his voice like the wind cutting through the trees. "Is Hongjoong."The barrier surged again, and the shadows lashed out, forcing Hongjoong back into the darkness. Lucas stumbled, the pull in his chest breaking as the connection severed.Moon grabbed his arm, yanking him away from the clearing. "We're leaving. Now." For once, Lucas didn't argue.

Back at the packhouse, Lucas couldn't shake the image of Hongjoong's face. The way he had called out to them, the way the shadows seemed desperate to keep him trapped. It all swirled in his mind like a storm. "What was that?" Moon asked quietly as they slipped through the door. "I don't know," Lucas said. But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning. "Maybe we should tell mum?" Moon suggested, but Lucas shook his head. "She's always been weird on that topic. Even our fathers have, yet they expect us to learn about it." Lucas answered back. "Learn about what?" Father Jisung asked them as he touched their shoulders making the boys jump. "Nothing." They stated. Yet it wasn't nothing. It was something deep and hidden in the depths of the woods.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @linocz @eastjonowhere @hyunmikim @hpnsfwaddict @tsunderelino @multistan248