#and joked that i would be depressed for weeks because he told me. so I never went back

[campirebitesarchive]

hi besties i just got back from the cardiologist and the good news is that i got answers and im not dying but the bad news is i have mitral valve prolapse and i am relieved and also still scared because it is a valve disease in my heart and it causes a bit of mitral regurgitation which is scary and i am being so brave about it

[hiyashortking]

You Catch Lucifer Masturbating

Disclaimers and credit: read this post before reading any of my content, please.

Premise: Inspired by @venomhound's prompt list found here for the prompt: you catch them masturbating. My tenses are all fucked up in this one and I've chosen not to edit it to make sure it all matches ✌️.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He’d forgotten that he asked you to stop by when you had a moment this week to drop off some bullshit he didn’t actually care about. He was just looking for an excuse to see you again, especially against the backdrop of his room. But depression and trauma do some fucked up shit to one���s brain because he forgot this scheme and left his door unlocked, and you came wandering in when he had his cock in his hand and your panties on his face.

How did he get your panties? A story for another time …

On the bright side, he temporarily cured himself of his desperate want to be around you. If someone had told him last month that he’d be actively avoiding you and would actually go back to his old place to get away from you, he would have put money on it. Unless it was Husk, of course. He was bordering on being obsessed with you, so desperate for just a glance at your face most days. And now? Hiding in shame.

The King of Hell, hiding from a simple little undead. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic.

You knocked on his door.

Like the true diva he was, he was in his bed eating ice cream and chocolates, surrounded by the fluffiest of his duckies. The only thing he’d managed to get out of bed for every day was his long, hot as fuck shower, during which he would not allow himself to stroke his cock. Punishment was something Lucifer had been taught well, and now he was enacting it on himself.

You knocked again.

He cleared his throat. A “who is it” came out with a squeak, which made him clear his throat and ask again in a tone with more authority.

“Hey, it’s me. I will never not knock again, I promise.”

How could you even joke about this?

W-wait, it was YOU at the door?

He jumped out of bed and fumbled around, trying to make his room look cleaner. He opened the window for fresh air, but the air of hell wasn’t fresh at all so he’d closed it again.

“I hope it’s okay, Charlie let me into the palace."

“Y-yes, of course. I’ll be right there. Is-is Charlie with you?” Where were his clothes? He wore the same fucking outfit every day for millennia, one would think it would be easy to get quickly dressed. The closet! Of course, that’s where clothes would be!

“She and Vaggie are downstairs. I didn’t tell her what happened but she got worried when she called you and you didn’t pick up. She said you’d done that in the past but that you’d been really attentive to her lately so she wanted to make sure you were okay …”

Running a hand through his hair, he opened the door and leaned with the other hand on the doorframe, trying to obscure your vision of his bedroom. He looked as gorgeous as always. Since you hadn’t seen him in a while, his smile seemed even prettier today. His hair looked so soft, you wanted to reach out and run your own fingers through it. He smelled amazing. Why hadn’t you ever realized how form-fitting his clothes were? You felt as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Hey, bitch,” he says, and immediately regrets it. But his smile only falters for a second.

You chuckle. He always makes you smile and laugh like a fool. “Well, you seem to be doing just fine! I don’t know why Charlie and I were so worried!”

He imitates your chuckle and tries to push away memories of why he is avoiding you. But wait- shouldn’t he be apologizing? His smile disappears when his thoughts race of what you must have thought and how he probably made you feel and-

“Y/N, I am so, so, so, sososososo sorry,” he lets out, almost as if his body deflates with each sound. His tail is out and literally between his legs.

“It’s o-”

He steps toward you abruptly and closes his door behind him. “Let’s sit down,” he takes your hand absent-mindedly as he focuses on which room to bring you into. Not his office. Not the librar- maybe the library? Didn’t you love reading? Maybe he could distract you with all the books!

He only realizes he is holding your hand when you’re at the center of one of his smallest, coziest libraries. “Oh fuck, oh shit, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize-”

“Lucifer, stop!” You plead.

He takes a deep, sharp inhale, his face awake with surprise, holds the breath, and releases it slowly, tilting his head up and relaxing his shoulders as he does.

“Thank you,” you say in unison, and then grin like the fools you both are.

“Please sit down,” he says as he does the same on the sofa across from yours. “May I get you something to drink?”

You noticed there were servants downstairs who were catering to the princess and her partner but who did not follow you up to the second floor.

“I’m just happy to see you, I’ve been struggling to think about anything else since you left.”

You’d been thinking about him since he left? He’d been gone for weeks!

“I’m so sorry to have worried you. As you can see, I am fine and dandy. Well- not entirely dandy, I’m obviously very much attracted to all the genders- I mean-”

Fuck, you missed him. One second the picture of elegance, and the next tripping over his words. When you caught him stroking his cock, with your used underwear on his face, you let yourself lean into all of the thoughts you hadn’t allowed when you assumed it would be impossible to be on his radar. And then he had the audacity to disappear, leaving you alone with just your fantasies.

Though you called him several times, you did doubt the situation you had seen. He was the King of Hell! Why would he be interested in you, all of being in hell? Maybe he just had a panty fetish and it didn’t mean anything that they were yours. Did this feel personal because it was, or because you desperately wanted it to be?

Wait, what was he saying?

“I’m so sorry to have worried you. As you can see, I am fine and dandy. Well- not entirely dandy, I’m obviously very much attracted to all the genders- I mean- wait- is dandy still an insinuation of being gay? Was it ever? Anyway, I’m not fully gay! Obviously! I mean-”

He was so fucking cute. You could listen to him ramble all day. “I honestly didn’t think you were going to see me, so I didn’t think about what I would say if you did. I’m just really happy to see you. I’m sorry I didn’t think this through more. I just want to be in the same room as you again.”

It wasn’t difficult to stun this man into a moment of silence, but the silence rarely lasted. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I wanted to give you some space. I am obviously deeply apologetic for my behavior.” 

Was he struggling to look at you? Is the most powerful man in all of hell blushing and avoiding your eyes? Fuck, why was this turning you on?

“Please tell me if there is anything, anything in all of Hell I can do to gain your forgiveness. I will, of course, entirely understand if it would be impossible for you to forgive me, but I would be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t at least ask.”

“Luci, may we be blunt?”

He nodded.

“What exactly do you want me to forgive you for?”

What? What exactly? For being a creepy, rude, disrespectful, vile, impish-

“I think I want some clarity about why you think I’m upset with you,” you added.

“Well, you- … I- ... wasn’t what I did bad?”

“Bad?”

He hated how the thoughts I’ve been a bad boy intruded into his mind, but here he fucking was again, with his fucking trauma getting in the way of a new relationship, not to mention how fucking cliche. Wait- a possible relationship? You were here, seeking him out, confessing to thinking about him, not being mad at him for crossing boundaries, maybe not even wanting those boundaries to begin with? Was he letting some fucked up negative core belief about being "bad", whatever the fuck that meant, ruin something he could have with you?

“Oh, Luci,” you rose from your spot and kneeled in front of him as you would if you wanted to help a child feel less intimidated. “Can we just forget this happened? Maybe not all of it, because it led me to assuming I might have a chance with you. So, I guess, let’s maybe just keep the part where you might be attracted to me, and forget any other misconceptions?”

“A chance with me?”

You nodded and waited patiently for him to process.

“You would want a chance with me?”

You nod again, smiling. Waiting.

How had he only then realized you were on your knees in front of him?

He slid from the couch to join you on the floor, and scooped you up with ease to settle you sideways in his lap. He couldn’t think of you on your knees just then.

He felt welcomed by you, but realized that wasn’t consent. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yes, Luci, you can touch me anytime you like and you can touch any part of me you’d like to touch. I love, love, love being touched,” you emphasized. "Is it okay if I touch you, too?" you asked him.

Baffled, he nodded. "Yes. My word! Yes, enthusiastically! Yes, please!"

Did this grown ass man just quiver?

Oh shit, were you feeling him getting hard?

You seemed to share a brain cell in that moment because he apologized again, his arms loosely around you. “I haven’t- … done what you’d seen me doing- … since that day, so my body is-”

Whenever he got shy and apologetic, you wanted to respond with nurturing, but this time a second feeling won over and you laughed and hid your face in his neck.

“Lucifer Morningstar, you were so upset that I might think the King of Hell is immoral that you haven’t come in weeks?” The ridiculousness was too much to bear. Fuck, and he smelled amazing. You let yourself nuzzle into him, enjoying the feeling of his flesh. Did he have flesh? What were y’all made of down here? You rubbed your nose gently against his neck, enjoying how even the slightest touch connected you.

“That is correct,” was almost the truth, as he did not take responsibility for the things his body did while he was sleeping.

He let himself lean against the sofa a bit, enjoying you snuggling against him. He closed his eyes and tried his best to relax. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Breathe in-

“You amusing, wonderful little fool,” you whispered, and when you did your lips brushed against his neck, and you were certain then that he had shivered.

You were not making it easy for him to settle down. You often wondered how he managed to go from tense to relaxed and then back to tense so easily. And these were his reactions when you were on your best behavior. How would he respond if you intentionally teased him? Shhh, brain, not now, you pleaded with yourself.

“Not everything about me is little,” he said back with some confidence.

“I know, remember?” You move your head to see his face. Fuck, you weren’t supposed to bully him! The man was vulnerable! Could you just chill for today?!

“Ugh!” he groaned. Had he been blushing before that remark, or was it only just now?

Seeing your smile helped ease him again and he wondered aloud, “maybe I need to walk in on you touching yourself thinking about me, so we can be even?”

“That would be challenging since I don’t really masturbate.”

“You don’t mas- what?”

“I prefer fucking.”

“You prefer fucking?”

“Yes, or being pleasured by someone else. I must just not be good at it or something, I’m not a big fan of solo play.”

“You’re not-”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” You chuckle, realizing you’d been obliviously playing with his hair. You had the fingers of one hand at the back of his head, tugging gently and releasing, while the other battled with his hair's softness in the front, refusing to stay put where you'd wanted it to be.

“I might just, until something you say doesn’t wildly surprise me.”

You take pride in being able to surprise someone who came into existence at the beginning of time.

You’re also glad he positioned you this way in his lap, so you could more easily hide how wet this exchange was making you. What the fuck was your kink, powerful men being vulnerable? You couldn’t have just been into feet or something? Great, now there was an image of Lucifer kissing your feet in your brain. In boots. That he bought for you. With his endless hell currency. Fuck.

“I guess I’ll have to abstain a little longer," he mused. "Because now all I want is to turn you on so much that you can’t stop touching yourself.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

[haikyu-mp4]

A light in the dark

Fluffy workplace romance working at a funeral home with your crush Matsukawa, for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @haikyuuadict. word count; 706 – gn!reader

How did you end up as Mattsun’s regular work partner, you say? It’s because none of the other workers can stand your superior humour. Or everyone else found both of you annoying and decided to group you for every shift you had. From making inappropriate jokes in meetings to asking for second rounds of wine at church, you two were certified menaces to work with.

Jokes on them, you two love working together. To the extent that you developed an unspoken crush.

When the whole team was invited to a work party in October, hosted in the less morbid parts of the funeral home, you both looked at each other with wicked grins.

It’s October, surely this is a costume party.

So the two of you showed up with sheets over your heads and sunglasses on top to mark your faces, making spooky sounds with your arms raised when you entered.

The majority of your coworkers frowned in near disgust, shaking their heads and looking away. You couldn’t see that well, so you lifted your sheet discreetly and took a sharp breath at the sight.

“Matsukawa,” you whispered, slapping your hand on his arm. “No one else is wearing costumes.”

“What?” he whisper-yelled, copying your move of lifting the sheet, but a little less discreetly. Your eyes travelled down from his face to his formal shirt, unbuttoned at the top for a breather, probably thinking he would wear the costume all night.

“Couldn’t even throw on a tie?” you teased, ears red when his eyes travelled down your pretty blouse and suit pants in return.

“Well, not all ghosts got invited to fancy parties. Didn’t you literally wear that to work last week?” he teased back, and the two of you eventually just let the sheets rest on your shoulders like informal capes.

“Hey, our job requires formal attire. Didn’t know you took such great notice of my outfits, anyway.” You walked over to the buffet table, pulling Matsukawa along by the wrist.

The two of you ended up sitting across from each other on a table in an adjacent room, each with a paper plate filled with food and trying to stifle your laughter.

“You? I can’t imagine you were that terrifying on the court, Matsukawa,” you commented after he told you more about his volleyball career.

“I didn’t need to look scary. They all fell in love with me and refused to hit the ball past me.” Your laugh sounded more like a snort, a sound that made Mattsun smile. The kind of smile that suggested you were the brightest light source in the room.

“Understandable.”

“Hey, why do you still call me Matsukawa?” he questioned as your laughter died down.

“We’re coworkers,” you said, but it didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to. “You call me by my last name, too.”

“What if we stopped doing that? It’s mostly just the two of us at work, I don’t think our other coworkers could dislike us any more than they already do.”

You pulled the sheet back over your head, trying not to laugh at the joke that brewed in your mind before you even got to say it. “They’re such boomers,” you said, putting a spooky voice effect around the word boo.

Mattsun wishes he had a plan for what he did next, but it surprised him just as much as it surprised you. He leaned forward, tilting his head and pressing his lips against yours over the ghost sheet.

Neither of you moved much, taking in the rough feeling of the cheap sheet before leaning away, only for you to throw the costume off to stare at him.

“Issei,” you whispered. And the smile you gave him next was one he swore could have woken the dead. You leaned forward with one hand between you on the table, the other taking hold of his shirt to pull him closer for another kiss.

This time you got to enjoy it, even letting your tongue have a taste of the poorly brewed coffee that lingered on his lips.

With such a depressing profession, he felt lucky you ended up in the same place, a light to hold his hand through the darkness.

masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for having a foursome without my partner while in a committed relationship?

I, 18f, am in a relationship with my partner who I will call Mike, 21m. Our relationship started in January when we meet on a hookup sight, and we liked the hookup enough to keep seeing each other and then we developed feelings. I'm from a pretty rural place and therefore the pickings of good men are slim so it felt like I hit the jackpot when I met Mike cause he was funny and didn't pressure me sexually and could actually make me cum.

But as our relationship became more serious I noticed things that were bothering me like how he's hardly on his phone so he doesn't text me back for anywhere from 2 to over 24 hours at a time.

He also in the beginning wasn't very good at communicating which lead me to not knowing what he wants from our relationship. He also wouldn't tell me he couldn't make plans until right before, or even after, the plans were meant to start. This happened often because he doesn't tell his parents that he has other plans when they ask him to do something (he still lives with his parents) and it even happened a couple times with his friends.

This is a slightly big issue to me because I have trauma based abandonment issues and BPD, and I will get upset and have an episode. Obviously it's not his fault I have these episodes and he's not causing them on purpose, but having episodes that often was negatively effecting my mental health.

My best friend Ken and roommate, 18n, and our two other friends, Julian, 18n, and Mac, 20n, had to witness the toll these episodes had on my mental health as I grew more depressed and anxious during the 5 months I allowed this to happen. They continuously encouraged me to either speak to him about his behavior or break up and I ended up talking to him and his behavior seemed to get better. (For context I only can see him about once a week because he has a job with long hours and works on his dad's farm on top of that)

Around this time my friends starting having threesomes together (Mac and Julian are ex fuck buddies and Mac and Ken are engaged) and they kept making jokes about how it should be a foursome/I should join then.

I brought these jokes up to Mike one of the times he was going to hang out with my friends incase made the joke in front of him as i didn't want him to go in unprepared. He said I should just "have sex with them to get the joke to stop" and I was like "??? We agreed to be exclusive, that would be cheating. Also if I wanted them to stop I could just ask" and he was like "yeah I guess but I still think you should just have sex with them. Just do it" I changed the subject cause I couldn't tell if he was joking and it made me uncomfortable.

I told my friends later when we were alone and they told me that was him giving me the go to have sex with them.

So I did, even though I held some reservations that he might have been jokinh. I had a foursome with them, and as I am the photographer of the group, took lots of photos and pictures and even sent the photos and pictures to the groupchat we share so the others could have them.

Then after it ended I started to second guess myself and deleted all the photos from my phone and texted Mike that I really needed to talk to him, like sooner then we usually would (since I had just seen him typically I wouldn't see him until next week). I felt gross like I had cheated, which is something I have always vehemently been against, and betrayed Mike's trust as we're in a committed relationship. I admitted these feelings to my friends and they said it wasn't cheating cause he told me too and even if he hadn't he was still horrible to me and he deserved it.

Only the last part made me feel even worse cause I don't believe anyone deserves to be cheated on.

I ended up telling Mike everything and he told me that it wasnt cheating because I "was basically just a promoted camera man" and that he had told me to do it anyway. But them he started making jokes about it. Like if I asked if he wanted to watch a show, he'd say "I don't watch TV shows with dirty cheaters" or things like "oh yeah, Mac, your other boyfriend" or "yeah i know how close you and Ken are" and just generally seems to get quieter when i bring up those three friends. I would originally think the comments were teasing as he's a playful guy but he started to say it enough that I can't tell if there's actually truth to it and a part of him thinks I'm a cheater, or all of him thinks I'm a cheater and he's lying that he's fine about it to not hurt my feelings/ruin our relationship.

Every time I voice my feelings to my friends (even the ones I didn't have sex with) they tell me that I'm not in the wrong but I feel like I definitely am in the wrong and a cheater, and I think that Mike might feel that way too. So I've come to Tumblr to look for unbiased options on whether or not I am and asshole and a cheater for having a foursome while in a committed relationship?

What are these acronyms?

[imaslutforcuddles]

ESCAPISM

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

summary | after being broken up with, you plan on being sad and lonely but others convince you sex just sounds too good not to drown in. You end up meeting someone at a bar, who you might just love forever.

words | 2k

warnings | smut (18+) oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), pinv, DRUGS (don’t mix drugs and alcohol), substances, high sex, subby reader, drunk sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, little angst, self pity, breakup bullshit, swearing, sex jokes, bitches, arguments, mention of cheating, idiots in love, a little bit of a sad ending.

A/N | i have been living off of escapism and i couldn’t not write a fic about it, imagine meeting eddie in a hot and sweaty club... Reader is called bean as a nickname in this because it’s cute, don’t judge. Also, this has a platonic love circle with y/n, robin, and steve (although he’s not really brought up in this). Their like a lil family. I might do a part two if yall want. DON’T DO DRUGS KIDS. 18+ MINORS STAY BACK.

a little context if you care to listen                                                                          find myself in a shit position                                                                                the man that i love sat me down last night and he told me that it’s over

You shoved a box in his hands with tears streaming down your cheeks, “There. it’s all your shit, now fucking go.” 

He grunts a little but stays put, “You know i still care about you right.” 

Sighing you start to push him out the doorway and onto the cold, “Have a good life Jason.” 

You aggressively moved your hand toward the door signaling that he needed to leave, when his heavy body wouldn’t move.

Huffing as your eyes start to burn, 

“Just leave, never ever talk to me again.”

He stares at you longingly as if he hadn’t ended just fucked another girl.

“I’m sorry.”

You slam the door and smack your face in disgust, 

how could he have done this to you?

- Three weeks of sulking later -

Robin groaned, “Oh come on y/n! We have to go out and get some, or at least you. God knows how long its been since you’ve been eaten out!” 

Your eyes widened and you huffed, “Jesus Fucking Christ Robin! I’m fine!” 

She stares into your soul arms crossed and eyes squinting. 

Raising your hands in defeat you exhale the air you had held while having a staring contest with robin, “Fine, but i don’t need some random dude to make me feel better.”

Robin shrugged, “Ehhhh not sure about that, but you at least need some weed or something.”

You smile and snuggled deeper into your bestie, “Love you robin.”

She grins and looks over at you, rubbing your shoulders with her soft palms.

“Love you too bean.”

Nights with Robin had been frequent since the breakup. It would start the same very time too, you’d call sobbing about him or about your depression and she’d show up at your doorstep with open arms. 

Things would be so different without Robin, you can’t believe you have a friend as amazing as her. 

-

dumb decision

The next day you saw her, she came in with a wide mischievous smile and two occupied hands, holding with clothes fit for a prostitute. 

“Robin what the fuck is that?”

She shrugged, looking from the outfits to you. 

You grasp the thin fabric if your hands, it did feel really nice..

“A little something to cheer you up? We can look like hot chicks, maybe fuck, maybe get some free drinks.”

You hesitated, free drinks.. 

“Alright fine.”

-

and i’m out on the town with a simple mission,                                                        in my little black dress,                                                                                            and this shit is sittin

So here you are, sitting in the back of the club holding a glass of champagne waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet and fuck you into oblivion.

As much as you didn’t believe in fairytales, this might as well be one. 

You scoff as a girl in your ‘friend group’ makes some lame joke about being horny and ready to party, and Robin hands you a joint and leans down to the shared table you were sitting at to snort another line. 

You take a long hit from the shared joint, “This is so fucking depressing.” 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a slut.” 

Some other girl across from you shouts over the music blasting around you, 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” 

Your face starts getting hot, you did not leave the comfort of your house just to get hated on by some random friends that Robin met up with at a shitty club. 

“I called you a slut. I mean come on, you got cheated on. It seems like you were too slutty for poor Jason.”

She grinned and you took another long hit. 

Damn can this shit start working?

“Do you even hear yourself? Your a fucking dumbass. So stop running my energy your not even worth it.”

Her smirk disappeared as your face stayed unfazed and stoic Your getting fed up with these girls around you. 

How did she even know his name? Bitch probably fucked him too.

Grabbing your glass, you got up and headed to the bar for some more liquid courage.

“If the drugs won’t fucking cooperate maybe the alcohol will.” You groan.

Walking up to the bar you had almost wished you stumbled a little. To at least show your a little high, but no.

“What do you want?” A bartender grunted to you, if you weren’t so done with people’s attitude you might have actually cared that he was grumpy. 

“The strongest shit you have.”

He took a deep sigh and smiled, “I’m sorry i was a bit rude there,”

You shook your head, “It’s all good buddy.” 

He grabbed a glass and a bottle of what looked like a mix of Spirytus and tonic, you tut and grin. “What makes you so sure i wouldn’t like something sweeter instead of tonic?”

Looking up at you he chuckled, “You don’t look like a sweet type.”

Putting a hand to your chest you fake a sniffle, “I’m offended. I’m totally the sweetest person you’ve ever met,” you pause waiting for a name. He smiles realizing why you’re not continuing, “Eddie, my name is eddie. What about you sweet stuff?” 

“Aha funny, i see what you did there.”

When you finally tell him your name his face softens, “That’s a beautiful name, it suits you.”

Eddie reaches for your hand, “Would you like to hang out with me after my shift?” 

You squint your eyes, “That depends.” 

His face contorts, he’s confused. 

“On what sweetheart?” 

Smiling you put your other hand on top of his, moving in closer to him. “On how quickly you can finish serving everyone else and start serving me.”

You grin while he just stands there awkwardly, “You don’t understand what i’m saying do you?”

Eddie awkwardly chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not in the slightest.”

Smiling, you reach for his collar to pull him onto your lips. You feel him tense up but soon relax and kiss back, “You don’t have to kiss me just because I kissed you.”

He smiles at your concern, “Don’t worry,”

Leaning in as close as he can from across the bar counter, he pecks your lips again. 

“I wanted to.”

Watching him grin as he writes his number down on a nearby napkin and slides it over to you just makes you even more horny. 

“Text me, I get off at one.”

You tuck it in your bra and smile, “Oh, I definitely will.”

He nods and walks off to serve more people, “Can’t wait sweetheart.” and you watch him the whole time. You watch as his arms flex while tossing around drinks, you bite your lip as he smiles at other customers. 

You would have watched him the whole night but robin eventually found you staring, all alone and took pity on you.

“You look fucking depressing,”

Scoffing you get ripped from your spot on the stool, “I’m good right where i am robin.” 

You wish that you would start to slur your words a little. I mean, it would make sense after all the glasses of alcohol you’ve been inhaling.

“Alright, let’s get you home.” 

Robin may have come to get wasted, but she doesn’t want you to regret your decisions more than you already do now.

She slid her hands under your slick armpits and held you up by your waist, thinking that without her you probably would have fallen straight on your face.

 And yet, you were fine without her. 

Scoffing to yourself and shaking your head, you push her away. “Just because i’m not with him anymore doesn’t mean i need you to take care of me!” 

You could tell Robin didn’t expect you were somewhat sober, she thought you were just wasted like all her other friends. But she shakes off the hurt and surprise in an instant, she knows what you’re doing. 

“I don’t think that you should be yelling at the only person who’s here for you.”

She walks away with a huff and leaves you alone. While, you frown and turn away to look at eddie. Who is still serving anyone with the flick of a wrist. 

“Hey! Eddie.” 

He turns to you and smiles mouthing a hello back. 

When you wave at him to come over, he can’t help but feel a growing buz at the bottom of his stomach. 

“What can I help you with sweetheart?”

“Your shift is over.”

You watch the confusion fall over his features, “I thought it ends in thirty-” Smiling, you grab him by the collar and pull your lips to his ear. “Your shift is over Eddie.”

He almost purrs at the way your voice whispers his name.

~

You push him against his bedroom door and moan into his mouth, “Mfmh Eddie.”

Eddie smiles at your whining and flips the two of you around, pushing his groin to yours. The making out only stops for a second as eddie pulls at your shirt, you grin and help him take it off.

Harsh puffs are pulled out of your mouth when Eddie latches his lips to your throat, sucking red spots all over it. 

“Agh,” You pant and pull him closer to your neck, and push your center towards his own.

“I need you Eds.” 

He grunts and pushes you onto his bed, grabbing his belt and ripping it off his pants.

You start to drool watching him undress, his body was lightly toned but oh so beautiful. 

As you start to reach for his dick he stops you and sighs, “As much as i’d love for you to touch me, I need to be inside you.” 

He grips your dress and pulls it off you in an instant groaning at the way your panties were drenched in your juices. 

“Is that for me?” 

You whine and shake your head. “It’s all f’ you Eds.” Pushing your head back you moan as he puts his fingers on your clothed core. 

He chuckles and rips your panties off, pushing a finger in between your folds and huffing at how warm you were. 

“A-ah Eddie!” Your body shakes at the sudden contact, and he pushes the finger inside you making your eyes widen and back arch. 

“Mmh is my sweetheart sensitive?”

You whine as he sticks another finger inside, pumping in and out slowly. 

“Eddie more please!” You beg and plead as he just stares down at you with a smile. 

He nods and smirks, “Whatever you say sweetheart.”

Eddie moves closer to you and starts to lick your clit. You just about cum then, but continue pleading for more. 

“Please, please, please!”

Soon enough the licks turn into sucking and slurping. As if he was a man starved, Eddie eats you out like a meal. Your back arches even more when you start to feel a coil in your stomach building up. As if he heard you, Eddie sucks on your clit harder and it snaps.

Your body shakes and your thighs close around Eddies head as he continues licking you through your orgasm. 

Eddie then comes up for air, as he smiles and huffs. “Your pussy tastes fucking amazing.”

With a whimper you pull his body closer to yours and reach down to grasp his cock, “Need you.”

He almost growls as you pull out what you wanted most and stroke it, “Damn sweetheart, your hands are soft.” 

You chuckle and help position him so he can push in comfortably. 

When he does finally fuck you it’s slow and soft. At first, you thought it was just going to be sweet until he started speeding up and pushing in harder.

As you moan he just pistons faster and rougher.

“You like that sweetheart?” He grins when you moan loudly in response, not being about to give a worded answer. 

You can feel his shaft getting harder as he gets close to release. 

Eddie grunts and huffs, pushing as fast as he can into you. 

“Ugh sweetheart i’m gonna cum!”

He reaches down to your clit and rubs, as you writhe and squeal gripping his shoulders. “Oh, Eddie!”

The both of you reach your peak together, hands pushing against each others bodies. 

When Eddie comes down from his high, he gets up and grabs you a towel wiping his cum off you. 

“Here you are sweetheart.”

He smiles and gets in bed next to you trying to hold you close, but when you feel something other than lust for him you push away. 

“This was just a hookup, an escape. Okay? Nothing more.”

Eddie frowns, but nods moving away from you. After a couple minutes of silence, you decide it’s too hurtful to just stay when you’re trying to convince yourself you aren’t good enough for him.

“I think I should just go.”

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 6

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 4K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

This one's a little longer than the last few, but it's one I was really excited to get to for a while. I hope you guys like it! We're starting to get into the nitty gritty! Once again please let me know what you think of it! Thank you all for your support :)

__________

After your emotional conversation with Pedro, you were worried he'd stop talking to you. At least, it seems that's how it usually works. Whenever you try to have a conversation about emotions with someone, it gets shut down. But surprisingly.. it didn't push Pedro away at all. The two of you talk nearly every day on the phone, and when you don't, it's made up for with plenty of text messages. You don't even have to be the first to communicate, either. It just feels natural. It doesn't need to be over-thought.

You keep telling yourself not to get your hopes up, but at the same time, you feel like maybe it's turning into something. Something more than friends. You couldn't help but wonder if Pedro felt the same way, or if maybe he's just a really nice guy.

Despite these feelings, you're still hesitant to tell him you love him. Although he put many of your fears to rest, you continued to be nervous. You were inexperienced. You were significantly younger than him. You led two very different lives. And even though he reassured you about your appearances, it doesn't mean you'd be his type once he actually saw you. Shoot, you don't even know if he's interested in pursuing a relationship.

Plus, now there's the risk of messing up a new friendship. Why ruin it?

How does anyone ever get into a relationship? Others make it look so easy, jumping from relationship to relationship like their heart isn't at stake.

Maybe someday you'd tell him. Maybe someday you'd share these other fears as well. But not yet. You weren't ready.

_____

About a week had gone by since you first talked on the phone, and it was around 1 PM when he called you.

"Hey Pedro!"

"Hey there, songbird," he replied cheerily.

"Songbird?" You giggled.

"If you hate it-"

"No, I love it. It's sweet," you blushed.

"Okay good. But the reason I'm calling is because I saw something on Instagram…"

"Oh yeah? What of?"

"About you. When were you going to tell me?"

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh what? What is he referring to?

You nervously laughed "I… what? Tell you what now?"

"Your album is coming out in a WEEK!??!" He practically yelled with excitement.

Seriously… this guy. Giving me a damn heart attack.

"OH" you replied sheepishly. "You scared me, thinking you heard… I dunno"

"Oh! I'm sorry. No. I haven't heard any information that you haven't told me yourself, nor would I believe it anyway. Other than.. this album!!!" Pedro announced like a gameshow host.

You laughed before replying "yes, yes, the album comes out next week! They just announced it I guess."

Pedro clapped and shouted. "CONGRATULATIONS!!!! I'm so happy and proud of you!!!!!!!!"

You weren't looking in a mirror, and he couldn't see you either, but you could bet money that your cheeks were a bright shade of pink. "Thank you, Pedro!" You giggled, your face beginning to hurt from the large smile he caused.

"How are you celebrating? Is the studio doing anything for you?"

"Well they mentioned an album release party, but being that nobody really knows me I don't know who I would even invite. Plus I'm not sure that a large thing like that is how I'd like to show myself to the world. A little too ceremonious for my liking." You grimaced.

"Well, I happen to think you deserve something ceremonious, even if you don't think you do. And I think we should celebrate."

"We - you - you do? You mean…?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"You and me," he said matter-of-factly.

"You.. and… What did you have in mind?" 

Frankly you didn't know what to think.

"Well. I was thinking… Maybe we could listen to the album together? We could talk on the phone and listen, and it would be like our own little album release party. You wouldn't have to show yourself or meet people. It would just be like our normal conversations. Except I'd get to hear your new music and talk about it with you. If you want," he said, sounding slightly nervous.

Your heart swelled at the gesture and you agreed happily. The two of you made a plan to "meet" at 7PM and listen together the night of your album release. And he promised he wouldn't listen without you.

_____

It wasn't until after you were off the phone with him that you began to overthink the songs on your album. Not unlike your first single, these were also rather vulnerable at times. Sure, he knew a lot, and he'd listen to the album anyway. Probably. But still. To hear it… together? You were starting to feel like you were in over your head.

Nevertheless, the week continued on like normal. Work, talking to Pedro, hanging with Skipper. You agreed to a few more interviews in article or voice format after the release, and signed a few last minute things.

As the album date approached closer, Pedro texted you one day.

"Okay I'm going to ask you something and I want you to trust me okay. I'm not going to do anything that I know you would hate."

"Okay…" what does this man have up his sleeve?

"Can I have your address?"

Why does he want my address???? The panic settled in. But, you did like him; and he hadn't crossed any boundaries yet. In fact, he's been one of the most understanding of your qualms.

So. You sent him your address.

"Thank you ❤️" Pedro replied.

A heart !?! A red one!? 

"You're welcome. Also… I was planning to tell you anyway, but if you're looking for my address I may as well tell you…" you told him your real name. Not your stage name. Not a nickname. But your name. First, Last. All of it.

"Thank you for trusting me. I promise I'll keep it safe," reassured Pedro.

"Thank you, P."

"Of course. You have a beautiful name, by the way."

Your heart did a somersault.

_____

The album release date was finally here and you aren't sure you slept a wink. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement. You loved him and always enjoyed chatting together. This was exciting. But also these songs are so personal. This is a big moment. This was a big plan. And why did he want your address anyway?

~~~~~

Meanwhile at Pedro's place, he was just as nervous. He had started out excited, but then he got into his head. His plans for the evening started feeling too romantic. He didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He liked you, but he didn't want to push it. Maybe he was showing too many feelings towards you. You love someone else, and him not respecting that is rude. All you want is a friend and he's just going to seem like another one of those creepy guys trying to get into your pants.

But it was too late now, the plans were in motion, and maybe you'd enjoy it. Who knows. Either way, he loved your friendship, and friends could do this kind of thing for each other… right??

~~~~~

Throughout the day, you paced your house before finally leaving with Skipper in tow. "We gotta get some air, buddy. I'm losing it over here," you said while clipping his leash.

Stepping out of the house, you two went for a long walk, circled back toward home, and plopped down on your lawn. The house still felt too small in preparation for this evening, whatever it was. Why does it feel different anyway? It's just another phone call..? Unless….

Truth be told, while Pedro had his secret plans, you also had some of your own. Whether you followed through with them or not was up to your nerves.

After some sunbathing with your pup, you both head inside. The sun was starting to set, and you realized it was getting closer to the meetup time you chose with Pedro.

_____

6 PM.

You stared at the TV, not really absorbing anything on the screen, but needing a distraction. This afternoon you opted for a show that Pedro was not in. For once, you needed to not see his handsome face. You needed something else. Half paying attention while picking at a hangnail, you jump out of your skin at the sight of your phone lighting up. Pedro texted.

"Picking out my outfit for tonight! Always important to look nice for celebration."

Shit… he's not coming over is he?! That's why he wanted my address?!

"Wait…" you pondered how to phrase your question without sounding like a panicked asshole, when all you wanted to say was "what the fuck do you MEAN!?!"

I'm not dressed. I'm in sweats and covered in dog hair. I don't have makeup on. Oh no.

"Wait… is that why you wanted my address?"

"Oh. Nooo, no no. No, sweet girl, don't worry. I'm not coming over unexpectedly and interrupting your hiding place. I just think it's still important to dress nice."

"Oh..Okay.."

It was around 6:15 when he texted a picture of himself wearing a white button up with a dark blue suit and matching tie. He wore dark-frame glasses and his hair was slightly tamed, but still showed his messy curls. He looked gorgeous.

But as you scanned his body you noticed that instead of dress shoes, he wore a pair of polka dot socks. He had a goofy grin and his one eyebrow was cocked. You grinned.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go," he said.

"You're a goof, P. But I appreciate the effort."

A pause.

"Also, you look really handsome" you nervously hit send before you had a chance to chicken out.

Bold. Probably shouldn't have said that. But hey, friends compliment each other.

"Why thank you. A big accomplishment like this requires all the stops."

He timed this message right to the minute. As you read his text, your doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find two boxes. One large, one small. A delivery boy was getting into his car. 

"Delivery from your biggest fan. 

-❤️, P"

He… he sent me some kind of care package?? And put a heart? And said he's my biggest fan?

You squealed and carried the boxes into the house. "What's this!?" You texted Pedro.

"Open them and see!"

You immediately open them. Inside the larger box was a variety of items. The first thing you noticed was a small vase holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. To the right of that was a bag, which you opened and found your favorite meal, from your favorite restaurant. 

Wow, this is elaborate. 

Below the food was another small bag holding your favorite dessert, and finally to the left, your favorite drink.

I can't believe he remembered all of my favorite things.. This is so thoughtful.

When you moved the flower vase, you noticed one more small item. Is that a… corsage?? You texted Pedro the question.

"Yep!" He sent, with a photo of a matching flower on his lapel.

Remembering you still had the small box, you opened the box flaps, wondering what could possibly be left for him to give you. On top of it was another note.

"For a handsome boy.

- ❤️, your mom's friend, Pedro"

Under the note was a jar of peanut butter, a squeaky anchor toy, and…? What's this?

You unwrap a small paper wrapping to find a dog-sized black bowtie. Shut up.

"SKIPPER!!! Look what Pedro gave you, buddy!"

He padded over to you and let you hook the dressy accessory around his neck. With the clip adjusted, he sat back, looking proud of his new fashion. You quickly snapped a picture and texted it to Pedro.

"I can't believe you did all this, Pedro. Not only did you send all this, but you remembered my favorite things? You remembered all the details from when I first met Skipper. My favorite food, dessert, drink, and flower? That's so sweet, this is all too much Pedro..  Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I.. I don't even know what to say."

You're amazing and I love you. Is what I want to say.

"You're welcome." He texted back. "Like I said, you deserve a celebration. Plus…"

Pedro sent a photo of his table, set up with the same food and drink, with the caption "now it's like we're having a dinner party."

It was nearing the time to meet, but you still had to do one more thing. You had pondered it earlier in the day, but fully decided it when Pedro sent the photo of himself dressed up. It's now or never.

_____

6:45 PM.

Pedro sat waiting for a reply after he sent his dinner photo. It had only been a couple minutes, but his hands were sweaty and his leg was shaking under the table. Finally, his phone went off. You sent… a video?

He opened it and pressed play. There, he saw you rotating your wrist with the corsage on it. The first time he's ever seen your wrist, hand, or arm before. The first time he's even seen your skin tone.

Geez you act like you're in the Victorian ages, pull yourself together, he rolled his eyes at himself for being so overjoyed.

Next, the video panned to Skipper in his bowtie, looking handsome as ever. The camera zoomed in on him and he looked up into the view with his big brown eyes. 

And then…

The camera panned to the side, and showed a mirror. A full length mirror, where you stood. He scanned your body from your perfectly done up hair and makeup, down your body to your dress. You wore your favorite dress, (in your favorite color, he noted) which showed off your body in the best ways. He looked down to the floor and noticed that you too were wearing fun socks instead of shoes. You wore a pair of striped socks and wrote in your caption "all dressed up and nowhere to go."

His heart picked up and he could feel himself breathing unevenly. He finally saw you. And you were gorgeous. He couldn't help the smile that enveloped his face.

Fuck. She's beautiful… I'm screwed. 

She loves someone else. She loves someone else. She loves someone else. Forget your feelings.

Despite his struggle, he knew he wanted, and needed, to tell you how beautiful he thought you looked. This was a big step to show yourself, and he also knew how self-conscious you felt about your body.

"Wow, you're so beautiful."

You blushed, replying with a quick thank you with a heart, then sending a second message asking if he was ready to listen. The video wasn't the only trick you had planned up your sleeve tonight.

______

The clock turned to 7 PM and Pedro hit the dial for your number. You answered the phone and said a quick "hang on" to set up the shared listening party link for your album. Once sent, you took a deep breath and steadied your nerves. Then, you took the plunge.

"Okay I got the link! I'm so exci - what - wait, is this an accident?" Pedro's hand fumbled as he received your incoming video chat request, his heart picking up to a galloping pace.

"Nope! You can answer it. If you want.."

He quickly swiped the accept button and there you were. Clad in your favorite dress, sitting at a table with the meal he sent in front of you. He could see himself in the corner square, dressed in his suit, with nearly the identical table setup and food.

He couldn't help but notice on his own video screen that his cheeks were turning rosy and his mouth curled into a large smile. But he was too happy to be shy about his blush.

"So this is you," he said.

"This is me," you replied shyly, but still with a huge smile and blush plastered on your face, matching Pedro's.

"You look.." he sighed shakily "..wow.."

"You look pretty wow yourself there," you said with a shy giggle.

Both of you let out gentle laughs, feeling a warm glow as your stomachs felt matching butterflies of nerves, excitement, and… maybe something else.

"So should we listen, I guess?" You asked nervously.

He didn't answer. He was looking at the screen, eyes scanning the video. 

Is he blushing? You wondered. But why would he be? He doesn't like me back… right?

He still hadn't answered you when you finally said "Pedro?? Did you hear me?"

He snapped out of it, somehow turning more crimson. "Oh! Sorry… yeah! Let's listen."

Your nerves were off the charts. Some of these songs were so vulnerable. The ones at the end of the album were the most telling of all.

But as the two of you ate your dinners while listening to your new album, you began to relax. The night was filled with him giving praise and you giving background information on the meanings and production of the songs. 

"Are all the different instruments and harmonies played by you?"

"They are! The studio offered studio musicians but I had originally played them all when I wrote it and wanted to keep it a one woman show."

"You're incredible," Pedro said, shaking his head.

You blushed, for the billionth time today.

When it came to "Imaginary Love" Pedro grinned. "Hey I know this one! The one that started it all." 

"Yep!" You agreed and he began lip syncing to the lyrics dramatically. Little did he know, those lyrics were actually about him. You giggled as he acted out a soulful rendition of the chorus.

"You know, this whole journey has been a real rollercoaster and there have been times I've wished I hadn't posted that song..."

Pedro looked at you with that puppy dog look of his and you continued "but then I remember… that if I never posted it, I would've never started talking to you, and it makes it all worth it."

Pedro placed his hand on his heart and pouted his lip. "I agree. I'm glad to have met you. If I didn't love this song already, that alone would be enough reason for me to consider it one of my favorites.

You grinned and looked down at the table, suddenly feeling shy. The two of you continued to listen, having long finished your dinner. Conversation flowed easily, and you couldn't help but feel like you were on a date. Not that you had much experience with that, but from what you'd seen in movies and shows, this felt very date-like. And you didn't want it to end.

But as the album went on, you approached the last two songs. The ones you were scared of most. The most vulnerable of the album. 

The second to last began to play.

'It's hard to imagine craving something that I've never had.

Dumb to be so desperate for something I've gone without.

But when I'm alone and thinking to myself, I need it so bad.

I crave it like a drug, but one I know nothing about.

Your kiss on my lips, or any kiss at all.

It hasn't happened yet, no matter how hard I fall.

The years keep passing, but still no love.

The years go by, but still no kisses.

I keep wondering and praying up above,

I guess I'm unkissable, despite my wishes.'

Pedro furrowed his brow, looking at you, searching for something. He read the title of the song, "Unkissable," and looked up again, opening and closing his mouth to find the right words.

"Do-" he stopped himself and pondered his wording again. "Is- are all these songs true?"

You stared at the table, picking your nail against the wood. "Yes."

"You really believe that?"

"... I mean… I don't know… maybe… I guess…" you avoided his gaze, but could feel it.

"And you've never-"

"Kissed anyone before? No. I haven't."

"But you've wanted to?"

"Yes," you whispered, starting to feel tears prick at your eyes.

Pedro shifted his lips to the side in thought before finally saying "well… you're still young. It'll happen."

"I'm 26, Pedro. Most people have kissed by the time they've graduated high school. I just… missed the boat I guess. It's okay. I'm just being silly. I don't want it that bad. We can maybe listen to something else now."

"Hey, hey. Don't shut down on me," he asked pleadingly. "26 is still very young, and don't worry about whenever everyone else has done things. Everyone does things at their own pace. I'm sorry you haven't experienced it yet, especially when you want it so badly, but I know that when it does happen, it'll probably be better than any kiss you would've had with some 15 year old boy you would've had in high school."

You laughed, breaking your tears for a minute. "Thanks Pedro."

"Of course. And hey, don't think of yourself as unkissable. Any guy should be so lucky to be with you. Maybe the guy you wrote about in your song will be your first."

"Maybe… I hope so. Thank you."

While your heart bloomed at the kind words and prospect of maybe kissing Pedro in the future, Pedro's heart began to ache. Not only was he sad for you when you wanted love so desperately, but he also couldn't help but feel sad hearing you want to kiss another man. He wants to be that guy for you. He wasn't joking when he said any man would be lucky. But especially knowing now your true age, 22 years younger than him, he knew for sure your crush couldn't be him. You were way too young to be interested in a 48 year old man. He was silly for even entertaining the idea.

But at least he had a new friend. And as he thought longer, he thought about his best friend Sarah, and her relationship. They have a huge age gap, 32 years, but they're happy. And he's happy for her. It doesn't feel weird with them. Could he have that with you? Or is he in over his head?

The last song on the album began to play. This one was less vulnerable, but if he decided to look at the lyrics and notice patterns, he'd see it in the chorus. 

'People have a lot to say

Everyone loves or hates me

Don't know what I did today

Right now you're all I can see

Only want to be with you.

Please, love me too.'

You're sure the obsessive listeners will figure out the acrostic, and if Pedro looks up the lyrics, he might too. But either way, it's out there. All you can do is hope for the best and eventually you're sure it'll come out anyway.

 This wasn't one you were sure about putting on the album, but when the studio read through your personal songbook, they went insane over it. They figured it out quickly, and they promised they'd keep it to themselves. Luckily they have so far, but if money came calling, you think they'd sell your heart faster than you could say no.

The song, and album, came to a close and Pedro looked up at the screen once again, staring into your eyes. "Once again your music has blown me away."

Whether he put together the end or not, he wasn't letting on.

"Thank you Pedro. I really appreciate it. And thank you for tonight. It was truly special and I mean it when I say it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. You didn't have to go through all that trouble," you said thoughtfully.

"It was no trouble. You deserve congratulations for your album," Pedro replied with a smile.

Right.. it's just a congratulations. Nothing else. You sighed.

"Thank you. I'm really glad we did this. Talk again soon?" You asked.

"Absolutely. It was wonderful to meet you finally," Pedro said, finishing the sentence with your real name and smiling.

"It was great to meet you too, Pedro."

__________

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading.

Looking for more? Next chapter!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97

[jungshookz]

just a small compilation of yoongi and y/n being platonic soul mates

➺ pairing; lveb!yoongi x lveb!y/n pre-namjoon (sorry namjoon u r not a part of this) 

➺ genre; so much friendship fluff i love platonic love so much 

➺ wordcount; 2.8k

➺ summary; yoongi and y/n love and care about each other very much but they’ll never actually say it outright bc real friends never do that! yoongi loves y/n a lot and y/n loves yoongi a lot and to be honest I AM JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!

➺ what to expect; “and don’t lie to me again, please. i’m supposed to have your back and i can’t do my job if you’re hiding things from me.”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; how sweet it is (to be loved by you) — james taylor 

»»————- 🧸 ————-««

yoongi and y/n get drunk and discuss very important things 

“ah…” you suck in an air of breath through your teeth, patting your chest a few times as the whiskey trickles down your throat

you’re not much of a drinker but yoongi insisted that this was the best whiskey he’d ever had and the only reason why you agreed was because he said if you mixed it with apple juice, it’d just taste like apple juice with a spicier kick 

“you are such a baby.” yoongi snorts, downing the rest of his glass before setting it down on the table, “you don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.”

“i do…” you shake your head, leaning back against the couch, “i don’t, but i also do.”

it’s not often that the two of you spend a sunday evening getting drunk in your apartment but you’ve had a rough week with the business (you’ve had to deal with many, many impatient and annoying customers this week) and yoongi just hasn’t drank in a long time and he recently got paid so why not spend it on some good quality alcohol?? 

“we should play a game or something.” yoongi turns and leans back against the arm of the couch before kicking his legs up onto your lap, “we should do something while waiting for the pizza, otherwise we’re both going to fall asleep.” 

“a game?”

“a game.” yoongi nods, reaching over to crack open the fresh bottle of jameson whiskey (surprisingly smooth, actually. and you do taste the alcohol but you quite like it with the apple juice), “what do drunk people talk about?” 

“they don’t talk. they call their exes.” you joke, yoongi rolling his eyes at your teasing smile

“for your information, i only did it one time. and she didn’t even pick up, so i just left a voicemail. and i don’t even remember what i said in the voicemail.” 

“one time too many.” your eyes widen a little at the reminder of that chaotic night that involved you chasing yoongi around the street trying to get him to give you his phone but his legs are longer and he’s very speedy when he’s drunk so it took you a while until you finally managed to pry his phone from his clammy hands 

love really does make people crazy 

“what’s your biggest fear?” you ask, turning to look at him 

“oh, we’re going to be that type of drunk tonight, are we?” yoongi snorts, reaching up to scratch the side of his nose before pursing his lips in thought and looking up at the ceiling, “probably that i’ll never be good enough in all aspects of my life, but to be honest, mostly when it comes to any romantic stuff. i’m terrified that i’ll try my best with someone and that my best still won’t be good enough for them, and i know i shouldn’t be so dependent on what someone else thinks about me, but if i was dating someone and i felt like i wasn’t good enough for them and then they told me to my face that i wasn’t good enough for them, that would probably send me into the biggest depression spiral i’ve ever had in my entire life. what about you?” 

yoongi looks back down at you to see that you’re staring at him with wide eyes before you reach over to pour some more whiskey into his glass, picking it up and holding it out for him to take 

“…flying cockroaches.” 

“that’s valid.” 

y/n keeps (choosing) to make the same mistake and yoongi’s kinda over it 

“you know, i was just doing some thinking when i was getting the ice cream and i don’t understand,” yoongi shuts the front door behind him before kicking his sneakers off, leaning against the wall with one hand, “didn’t you guys end things, like, a year ago?”

“he reached out in february n we’ve been seeing each other since then…” you sniffle, wiping at your red eyes as you look at him from your curled-up position on the couch, “…didn’t tell you because- i know how you feel about him-“

“he’s a fucking dickhead, that’s how i feel about him. he’s a walking red flag in a very concerning way- like, i have some red flags but they’re the ones that make me seem hot and mysterious, not the ones that make people wonder if i’m a narcissistic sociopath- also, are you telling me you’ve been secretly dating this man for the last-“ yoongi pauses, counting the months on his hands before his eyes widen slightly, “holy shit, you’ve been hiding this from me for the last eight months?” 

you press your lips together as you avert your gaze sheepishly, “…yeah. i’m sorry…” 

“well, what happened this time? why’d you guys break things off?” yoongi plops himself down on the couch next to you, pulling the two pints of ice cream and the cheap wooden spoons out of the thin plastic bag

“he- he was kind of seeing other people at the same time because we never made things exclusive-“

“well, were you seeing anyone else?” 

“no- and… he told me that i wasn’t allowed to see anyone else but he was- so- so basically he started dating-“

“ah, ah-“ yoongi holds the wooden spoon up to shut you up before letting out a laugh, “i’m gonna be so real with you, i don’t feel any sympathy for you at all.”

“i’m not asking for sympathy-“ your voice wavers slightly (you were definitely asking for sympathy and also you fully expected yoongi to come in here and just validate all of your feelings but to be fair you’d probably also feel some type of way if you found out he’d been lying to you for the past eight months of your friendship), “i’m just… sad…” 

“gee whiz, you’re sad because you made a choice to reunite with a known horrible human being!” yoongi exclaims sarcastically, peeling the lid off of the first pint while he shakes his head, “you have to take some accountability here, y/n. it’s not that he forced you to be in this weird relationship with him- and you know, i get it, when you’re reunited with an ex, old feelings come up and yada yada, but you already know the type of person shownu is, so i don’t really know why you’re surprised that being involved with him ended up with you needing emergency pints of ice cream… again. i feel like we’ve had this conversation so many times. it’s getting boring!” 

“i don’t know, yoongi, i thought things would be different…” you mutter, picking at your cuticles, “i thought he’d changed-“

“people rarely change. small habits, maybe, but people rarely change. and you have to take responsibility for the way that you let people treat you, too, because at some point it’s not just because oh yoongi, i was dumb, oh yoongi, i made a mistake, oh yoongi, he seemed so genuine when he was apologising to me — at some point you have to accept the fact that oh, yoongi, maybe i’m the one who has the power to not be crying over a piss-poor human being.” yoongi snaps, turning to look at you with a frown 

he only feels 1% bad when he sees chubby teardrops forming at your waterline and he lets out a quiet sigh before handing you your pint and a spoon, “you know i’m just saying all this shit because we’re friends and i care about you.”

“i know.” you sniffle, taking the pint from him delicately and scraping a little bit of ice cream off the top, “‘m sorry.” 

a moment of silence passes as yoongi gets comfortable with his own pint, his lips pursing as he looks back over at you in all your sad glory 

“i’m sorry things didn’t work out with him. i know you really liked him. but he’s genuinely a horrible person and in the long run, you’re going to be grateful you didn’t end up with someone like that.” he pokes you with his foot to get you to look up at him, “and don’t lie to me again, please. i’m supposed to have your back and i can’t do my job if you’re hiding things from me.” 

yoongi’s really passionate about getting strangers to try y/n’s strawberry cinnamon buns 

“what the hell? these are so good. you should sell these. why don’t you sell these??“ yoongi sucks strawberry glaze off his thumb before his eyes widen, “you could really turn this into a business, you know.”

“i don’t know…” your cheeks flush a little as you wipe flour off the counter, giving him a little shrug, “don’t know if i’ll be successful…” 

you had some spare time today so you decided to whip up a batch of strawberry cinnamon buns (they’re just like regular cinnamon buns except you also add a homemade strawberry compote in the layers, no biggie) and yoongi came over just as they came out of the oven, so you offered him one and obviously he said yes because he’d be crazy to turn down a little treat 

“sure you’ll be successful. you’re really good at baking, and if you start now, you’ll at least have some sort of income after we graduate.” yoongi frowns, “you can’t talk about yourself like that. you have to, like, manifest your success and speak it into existence and all that shit-“ 

“maybe one day…” you purse your lips before offering him another shrug, “i dunno if people’ll like em.” 

“STRAWBERRY CINNAMON BUNS! HOMEMADE STRAWBERRY CINNAMON BUNS-“ that one day comes a lot sooner (as in, this is happening an hour after yoongi suggested you start your own business) and you can’t help but stand off to the side shyly as yoongi continues pushing for people to try your buns

“come on, give this a try and tell me they’re not the most incredible thing you’ve ever put in your mouth-“ yoongi hands someone a free sample in a paper cupcake liner and the stranger looks at it before holding it back for him to take

“this looks great, but i’m allergic to strawberries-“

“well, that’s what your epipen is for, pal-“ yoongi slaps him on the shoulder before pushing him aside and turning his attention to other people, “strawberry cinnamon buns! free samples of homemade strawberry cinnamon buns! get over here and put my friend’s buns in your mouth- oh.” he immediately stops, turning around to look at you, “so sorry, did not mean to sound like i was pimping you off-“ 

you shake your head with a giggle, watching fondly as yoongi spins back around and practically chases someone down to get them to take a free sample from him 

yoongi gets stood up and he’s never seen y/n so upset before 

“who did this to you.” 

yoongi looks up from where he’s sitting on the cobblestone steps to see you standing there, your eyebrows furrowed tightly and your lips set in a tight frown 

if he squints, he’d probably be able to see fumes coming off the top of your head by how upset you seem 

“took you long enough.” he jokes, getting up from his butt and picking up the bouquet of wilted flowers next to him 

he messaged you twenty minutes ago about the situation and you literally got here in warp speed 

“who did this to you?” you ask again, and yoongi shakes his head 

this night has been humiliating enough and he really does not want to go into further details 

“don’t worry about it.” he clears his throat, holding up the bouquet for you to take, “for you, madamoiselle.” 

“you didn’t tell me you were going on a date.” you take the bouquet, bringing it up to your nose for a little sniff before smiling lightly (you love tulips), “love tulips.”

“i know. and it was a second date, technically.” 

“second date??” you ask incredulously, shocked that yoongi hid not one but two important pieces of information from you, “when was the first date??” 

“i didn’t wanna talk about it… i… didn’t wanna get my hopes up in case things didn’t work out and obviously things haven’t worked out.” yoongi shoves his hands into his pockets as he walks alongside you, “whatever, it’s stupid. i hate dating apps.” 

you twist your lips in thought as comfortable silence washes over the two of you 

you know that he’ll probably want to talk about this later, but right now it seems like a bit of a sore spot so maybe you’ll bring in up in a week or so 

or you’ll just wait for him to bring it up to you 

“you hungry?” you loop your arm with his as the two of you walk slowly, and you perk up a little at the sight of a diner two blocks down (they have really good cheesecake there) 

“well, i was supposed to have dinner an hour and forty-five minutes ago, so i guess i’m a little hungry.” yoongi snorts, kicking a pebble off the sidewalk before letting out a huff, “i don’t know. i could eat.” 

“…tuna melt time?” you squeeze his arm and he lets out a loud groan almost immediately 

“oh my god, you are so gross, you know that??” yoongi shoves you off his arm playfully, “who in their right mind likes warm tuna and cheese- you’re basically eating, like, cat vomit-“ yoongi makes a face and you can’t help but laugh, feeling a little better now that you’ve seen him smile a little 

“tuna melt, tuna melt…” you sing softly, yoongi letting out another groan before shuddering

“this could actually be a dealbreaker in our friendship, i’m telling you- only sick freaks like tuna melts-“ 

“guess i’m the sickest freak around, baby-“ 

y/n picked a gross drink from starbucks and refuses to admit she doesn’t like it 

“i still don’t know why you decided to try that.” yoongi shakes his head, holding his wallet out for you to take so you can put it in your purse for him, “what is it again?”

“apple… cinnamon cold brew something?” you shrug, raising the cup for a quick glance before shrugging, “trying something new!” 

“we both know what happens whenever you try something new.” yoongi grumbles, taking a sip of his own iced americano, “you try it, you don’t like it, you refuse to admit you don’t like it, and somehow i’m the one who ends up having to finish whatever it is you picked for yourself because you decided you wanted to be spontaneous.”

“nuh-uh.” you frown, yoongi holding the door open for you as he rolls his eyes 

you can be such a baby when it comes to arguments like this — it’s like you never want to admit he’s right even though you know he’s right 

“nuh-uh-“ he mocks, barely avoiding your whack as the two of you walk side by side, “the pineapple-walnut scone from that gluten-free bakery, that weird alfredo-truffle-pesto pasta dish you ordered when we went to get italian on valentine’s day, that godawful cauliflower crust pizza you got for brunch one time-“ 

“but i like this drink!” you take a hearty sip before swallowing, your lips puckering for a second as your eye twitches and you immediately stop walking to look at the drink

…perhaps the barista was having an off day but there’s something a lil funky going on in your mouth right now 

“oh my god, i fucking knew it-“ yoongi groans, his shoulder slumping as he looks at you with a raised brow, “who in their right mind would order an apple cinnamon cold brew something-“

“it’s not bad!” you insist, bringing it up to your lips for another sip, your other eye twitching now as you swallow thickly 

oh dear god 

is it supposed to be chunky?? are drinks normally chunky like this??? 

“just give it to me.” yoongi gives you a deadpan expression as he holds his iced americano for you to take, “take mine.” 

“no, no-“

“y/n y/l/n, give me your godawful drink right now-“ 

“are you sure?”

“are you sure?” yoongi mocks again, tsking at you when you take his drink from him and he takes your drink from you, “i knew this was gonna happen, and i still let you order your own drink… the next time we’re at starbucks, i’m ordering for you-“ 

🎙️ ask y/n for her strawberry cinnamon bun recipe (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[lovelywritinglady]

Hobie Brown x fem reader

When the reader has dyslexia, ADHD, and has trouble with spelling certain words or just forget how to spell the most simplest words ever gets insecure about their learning disability and then falls into a depressive episode (which is just them distancing themselves from other (Hobie) for weeks)

Who Needs Words Anyway?

Hobie Brown x femspiderpersonReader

Reader distances themself from Hobie after they fail to read a recent mission report in front of him. Hobie thinks nothing of it, but reader falls into a depressive episode.

Your Pov

I hate this, I fucking hate this. I asked Miguel to just get Lyla to tell me my missions over and over again, but it seems like that suck up ass won't listen. Now an envelope with my most recent mission assignment is staring at me. I feel myself begin to panic at the very idea of opening up the document, but considering my job, I have to. No way in hell am I going to get stuck in my reality, especially since my boyfriend might be restricted to see me. Although, he's never been one to play by the rules, and that's what I absolutely love about him. Taking much needed deep breath, I opened it and immediately I couldn't read a damn thing. All of the letters were all jumbled up except for a few, which didn't help because I still had no idea what the mission was. I let out a frustrated groan of annoyance and slammed the document down on the table in front of me.

"Oi, what's goin on in here love?" Hobie suddenly spoke making me nearly jump from my chair.

"Nothing, just a mission assignment, no biggie." I responded as casually as I could.

"Alright, what you got goin on?" He questioned walking towards me. He then sat on the table flashing one of his heart melting smiles that got me to date him in the first place. He really is a charmer, and he doesn't even need to try.

"Um...I haven't read it yet, but once I do I'll let you know." I said fidgeting with the paper before me.

"Can't you read it now, I want to see if there is a chance that I could come with you, not that I need permission or anything though." He said chuckling at the thought of breaking the rules once again.

"Nah, I think I'll read it later." I lied.

"Why can't you do it now, you ain't got nothin better to do." He joked.

"Sure, yea." I spoke quietly beginning to read the document once more yet failing once more. My anxiety began to spike considering Hobie still hadn't known about my conditions. I needed to get out as this situation was far too overwhelming for me to think. I began picking at my fingers trying to calm myself, but that didn't work. And suddenly I got up and ran out of the door unable to form a sentence to my boyfriend as he yelled my name.

Shooting my webs, I went to the highest point of the building and begin pacing all around it trying to calm myself. I couldn't face him and no way could I face Miguel again, especially since he knows about my conditions and hasn't even tried to accommodate me. Quickly I called Lyla and the fashionable AI came into view.

"Hey sugar, what's up?" She asked fixing her coat

"Can you please tell me my mission?" I asked her quickly

"Sure, but didn't you get the report?" she asked and I immedietly deadpanned at the fact that Miguel didn't even put my conditions on my file as she would know.

"Lyla I can't read them very well, can you please just tell me from now on and put it on my file considering the boss forgets to do so?" I asked her standing upside down looking at the futuristic city before me.

"Sure thing, and... done. Now as for that mission, you are to go to Earth-2341 and capture an anomoly known as the viper. Have fun!" Lyla said almost as though she was celebrating something.

"Thanks, I'll go right now." I told her knowing that going without preperation might not be a good idea.

"Be careful, want me to get Hobie to assist you?" She asked wiggling her eyebrows.

"Nah, I'll be fine." I reassured.

Three days later...

I was not in fact fine. My wounds were far more severe than I expected. I guess that's what I get for acting on my impulses. I numbly walked towards the infirmary sighing at the thought of getting scolded by the doctor for being too reckless again. My agony was washed away when out of the corner of my eye I saw Hobie. Although, as soon as that feeling of happiness came another feeling of regret and shame hit me like a truck and I began walking as fast as I could to try and avoid him. No way in hell was I going to talk to him right now, especially after what happened. I'm far too emmbarassed to be around him right now. However, I was no where near fast enough and I felt the soft touch of my boyfriend's hand on my shoulder and he tried to turn me around to face him.

"Hey love, oh shit are you alright?' Hobie greeted quickly as he began pulling my arm to the infirmary.

"No, I feel like shit, I was just on my way there and I don't need your help getting there, I know where its is." I snapped at him immidenietly regretting it due to the painfuil look in his beautiful brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, but don't take it out on me, I'm just trying to help." He said calmly and I was reminded once again why I'm with him in the first place. As he is the kindest and most honest person I have ever met.

"I don't need your help Hobie, just leave me be please, I need some space." I told him turning away and walking straight to the infirmary.

Two Weeks Later...

Fuck, I really should not have snapped at him like that. And all because I was too nervous to tell him about my dyslexia. He probably hates me now, but I'm too chicken shit to ask him. I haven't gotten much sleep since that day and I don't care considering I feel like I deserve it for how I treated my boyfriend. I sighed laying back down on my messy bed that I haven't had the energy to make it. Due to the severity of my injuries, I'm off missions for a few weeks until I'm fully healed. Miguel hates when we aren't perfect when completing our missions. I feel physically fine, I'm just not entirely there mentally at the moment. I felt so tired but all I've been doing is sleeping and waiting for Hobie to burst through the doors and make me do something with him. But he won't, I asked him to leave me alone and he's respecting that even though I don't want him too. Closing my eyes for the millionth time these past two weeks, I'm interrupted by someone shaking my head. My spidey sense didn't go off because it was the one and well many, Gwen Stacy.

"Get up, you need to go talk to him." She demanded picking me up off of my bed as I slouched onto the floor.

"No, don't wanna." I whined not looking up at her.

"Bullshit, you two love the hell out of each other. Talk to him and tell him everything." She said softer

"Girl, he's literally the least judgmental person ever. He won't even care about it because it doesn't effect you as a person." Gwen spoke crouching down placing her hand on my shoulder.

"You're right, you know where he is?" I asked getting up and finding fresher clothes to put on.

"Yeah, he's at his place." she said helping me pick something to wear even though there were piles of dirty clothes like everywhere.

"Thanks, wish me luck." I spoke finally dressed as I opened the portal to his dimension.

"You don't need it, but good luck." Gwen smiled with a thumbs up.

After making my way to his place I knocked on his door. He immediatley opened it and his eyes lit up as soon as he saw me. This clamed my nerves knowing he was still excited to see me I find myself seated on his couch that was probably over 100 years old. I can't complain though, this bitch was comfortable. Hobie stat on the other side of the couch looking at me as though he was waiting for me to speak.

"Love, you alright? What do you need to say." he asked

I took a deep shaky breath realizing its really okay. Gwen'sright about being the least most judgemental person here. Taking one more deep breath I began to tell him.

" First off, I'm so sorry for snapping at you two weeks ago and for telling you to leave me alone. The reason for it is that have dyslexyia meaning I sometimes get certain words mixed up and that's why I prefer to just be told my mission by Lyla rather than receiving a report like you or Gwen. I didn't tell you because I felt embarassed about it." I told him quickly looking down at my hands as I picked at my left palm.

"Love, that ain't nothing to be embarressed about. Wanna know why?" Hobie questioned with his right eyebrow cocked with a mischevious grin on his face.

"Why?" I chuckled at his face knowing he's say something ridiclous.

"Who needs words anyway, none of em' make sense most of the time." he joked cuckling at himself

"Pfft, Hobie lots of people do, that's how people communicate." I responded folding my arms across my chest giving him a grin as well.

"Nah, fuck the rules and everyone else. But seriously I'm glad you told me I feel like I know you better. So thank you for letting me in on that, love and I forgive you." Hobie reassured as he scooted next to me wrapping his longs arms around my body in a comforting hug as he stroked my head.

"I love you." I whispered leaning into him.

"Yeah, I love ya too." he said as he kissed my forehead nuzzling into temple. "Alright now, how's bout we cuddle and then order some pizza later, yea?" He suggested.

"Yeah, sounds good to me, Hobie." I told him as we both basked in the warmth of each other.

Thank you so much for reading💜

I hope I executed this well enough. I apologize if I did not. Im not the best at writing these topics, but I did my best. I’m officially off my break!

Please feel free to comment, request, and reblog

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[crazyvaleska]

Listen To Me | Jerome Valeska x GN! Reader

summary: you are jerome's psychiatrist at arkham asylum and after years of treating him he opens up about his childhood trauma

genre: angst

word count: 8479 (it's a long one folks! so get comfortable and grab ur popcorn & blanket! and tissues.)

warnings: cursing, self harm, mention of sexual assault & domestic abuse, mention of death & suicide, just a lot of angst in general. read at your own risk, you've been warned.

a/n: i started writing this back in august 2022 and finished it just now. been adding small paragraphs to this story every now&then. some paragraphs were written days apart while others were written weeks apart. i'm writing this bc i feel like there aren't many angsty stories with jerome. imo jerome isn't evil but broken. also having read his diary added up a lot to his character as it's pretty depressing. perhaps everyone has a different version of a certain character. here's my version of jerome.

also i got a tiny bit inspired by the harleen graphic novel and the joker movie for this !!

the playlist i was listening to while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5E2lk49zurRTAaHq3Nz7FQ?si=7TQxYHDsQ0ypPYkIvlLCpw&utm_source=copy-link

jerome's thoughts are written like this btw!

enjoy! (or don't.)

A huge amount of people would say it is impossible to become a psychiatrist at 18. That must mean they've never been to Gotham City. Here anything is possible. Therefore, you had just graduated medical highschool when you were offered a job at Arkham Asylum and you had no choice but to take it. You were aware of the risks of working in a place surrounded by criminally insane lunatics, but you didn't really have another option. You needed a job. Besides, taking risks never ever scared you. Though many viewed Arkham as a spooky place, to you it was interesting. Treating mentally unwell criminals was challenging because you liked helping people, no matter who they were.

What you didn't know was that one of the patients you would have to treat was none other than the infamous Jerome Valeska himself, probably one of the most demented and wicked being Gotham City had ever know.

Yet, you thought his character was rather fascinating. After all, you had known Jerome for years.

Jerome Valeska. How do you even begin to explain Jerome Valeska?

You first met him right after he killed his mother, the first time he was in prison. Before he died. Before he was an infamous murderer. And you had to admit, he did become more intimidating as years passed by.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about him at first, same old story about the son committing matricide. Though, he never told you the entire story. You noticed he was uncomfortable and you didn't want to push, everybody had their boundaries and you respected that.

If you had to describe in one word the way he was acting in his firsts therapy sessions, you would use the word "flirty". Sort of. A mix of charisma and inappropriate jokes.

He told you he didn't plan on killing anyone else, claiming that the murdering of his mother was something personal. For some reason, you chose to believe him. Until Theo Galavan happened. It was like the Jerome you once knew had completely vanished. He was the same and a different person at the same time. You almost felt sorry for him. But then again, you weren't supposed to get attached to your patients. Jerome was charming and all, but he probably didn't feel the same way you did. He was just a kid after all, and so were you. Both 18. The only difference was, you were trying to cure insanity while he was trying to spread it.

A few days later he died. Actually, was murdered. Poor thing, you thought. You wished you had more time to know him. You wished you could've helped him. You knew small parts about him but not his entire story.

You had hoped you would forget him as time flew by, but you didn't. His evil crackle never left your dreams. It was always there. You could hear it all the time, as if he was trying to reach you. It was torturing you. Yet pleasant at the same time. You missed him, truth be told. But you knew he was in a better place now. Or so you thought.

That was until he was resurrected. Being honest, you weren't exactly surprised. This was Gotham City, after all. Everything was possible in Gotham. The actual shock was seeing him faceless and unconscious. You wondered how much strength does one require in order to be able to staple their face without passing out. Jerome's pain tolerance was so high, it concerned you.

By the time the ginger maniac was sent back to the Asylum, his face had been attached back to its place. He was hideously scarred now, wearing a permanent disturbingly bright smile. Although, to you he looked fine. Somehow attractive. You weren't sure why. Maybe it was simply your questionable taste in men. At the same time, he was much more intimidating now, much more grown. And as a result to him dying by being stabbed in the throat, his voice had also changed. It sounded more threatening now.

"It's good to have you back, Jerome!" you said in his first therapy appointment of the year, a warm, kind smile on painted on your lips.

His reply came out natural, "Well, at least someone missed me." but his face was expressionless and emotionless, and his voice numb, as if he had lost his spark.

To most, he was simply just out of his mind, a low-life criminal, but you felt there was more than that. You desperately wanted to know what made him the way he was, what made him turn to a life of crime, because you knew no one was born evil, not even in a city like Gotham (though he wasn't born in Gotham) it was usually the environment that could cause one's insanity. And you could see it in his eyes: he wasn't born bad. He was shaped evil, but not born evil. But then again, anyone could go insane with just one bad day.

Jerome was very charismatic, he could get anyone do whatever he wanted. Nevertheless, he was an amazing liar, you couldn't ever tell when he was speaking the truth and when he wasn't. He didn't seem to care about the way others felt and showed lack of remorse, he was impulsive and manipulative, deceitful and reckless. He was extremely narcissistic and showed lack of empathy towards others, and you had diagnosed him with Psychopathy Cluster B Personality Disorders and Schizophrenia. The ginger was on different medications. Sometimes he didn't take them, other times he did and not only his, but others' as well . You had told him multiple times how that was no good for him, but he never listened.

The thing about Jerome was, you never knew what he would be like in your therapy sessions. Sometimes you felt like you knew Jerome, but did you really? Oftentimes his behavior was passive aggressive, other times he would crack up jokes and you actually enjoyed his company, getting lost into his mesmerizing hazel eyes, as if you two were actually friends. Most of the times he just stayed quiet though, especially if you mentioned his family. Sure, he had no problem talking about killing innocents but once you switched the subject to the murdering of his mom, for example, he would tilt his head and pretend he didn't hear you or just say the same old story about her being mean, but you suspected it wasn't just that, you could see it in his eyes that part of him was still... hurt? His eyes spoke volumes. Although he always tried to hide it by pretending to be a God, deep down he hated himself. But of course he didn't want anyone else to know that, he didn't want to be seen as weak. Not anymore. He knew better than that. You noticed this thing about Jerome, he tried to act unbothered all the time but he always did this head tilting thing whenever he felt uncomfortable. Sure, Jerome was always surrounded by people, mostly his followers, but being around people doesn't mean you actually trust them. And you couldn't blame him for having trust issues considering he was stabbed to death by the only person he ever trusted. You could only imagine the feeling of betrayal he felt. That must have been traumatizing, but he had never ever addressed it.

One rainy Thursday the young Valeska told you he was upset because there wasn't any pudding left at the cafeteria. So the following day, Friday, you came up with an idea that could get you killed, but it was worth a try.

It was getting dark, your shift was over and you were supposed to go home. But instead of heading towards the Asylum's exit you found yourself walking towards its core, towards one certain inmate's cell, inmate E-146's cell: Jerome's cell. You would be lying if you said you weren't nervous, because you were. You didn't have anything to defend yourself on you. If anything, you were aware you were walking towards something that could be mean your sudden death.

You did have to pay bribe to the prison wardens that guarded his cell. They warned you about the homicidal redhead, but you liked to believe you weren't scared of him. To you, Jerome wasn't scary-looking. What really scared you was his mind. You had read his criminal record thus you knew what he was capable of. Even though you tried to tell yourself he won't hurt you, truth was you had no idea what he'd do or say, he was unpredictable.

First time you stepped foot in his cell was an experience you weren't going to forget anytime soon. The room was smaller than you though it would be. Not that you were expecting any kind of luxury. But this was worse than anything you had ever imagined. The first thing you noticed was the extremely low temperature, it was bone-chilling. No wonder why Jerome sounded sick all the time. Four gray walls and a dark ceiling that looked like it could collapse over you at any given moment. A bed for one person that was placed next to a prison porthole and near it a small, cheap table with an old chair in front of it. The smell wasn't very welcoming either, you thought rats were the only thing missing from the picture.

Jerome didn't notice you initially, he was busy writing in something that appeared to be a notebook. You cleared your throat loudly, which made him jump. You caught him off guard, quite literally. He looked equally shocked and confused to see you.

"Whatcha doing here, doc?" the redhead asked as he sat up. He placed the pencil down and closed his book, then took small steps closer to you. Only now that you were both standing up at the same time you noticed how tall he actually was. In the therapy room, his arms were always folded together in a shinny white straightjacket that prevented him from harming the doctor before him. You had actually never seen Jerome with his arms free so close to you before. He was wearing his stripped prison uniform instead of that tight straightjacket and you could tell he was way more muscular than you thought, his hands were enormous, he could knock you out in a second. His looks should've alarmed you but for some reason they didn't. Actually, you were happy to see his body looked healthy. Everybody said he looked like a nightmare, but to you he was the opposite. You shook your head quickly trying not to think of that or anything potentially inappropriate.

You hitched your breath nervously as you took a few steps back. "I told you already, you can call me Y/N... Uh, yesterday you said there wasn't any pudding left for you so I thought I would...um ... I... well," you stuttered while searching for something in your bag. The man raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. You reached your hand out, holding a bowl of chocolate pudding, "I-I... I made it myself! And I paid the guards to leave..." you said in a low murmur.

The unsurety in your voice didn't go unnoticed and it made Jerome grin. He walked even closer to you and crossed his arms while nodding, "That's so brave of you, Y/N! But you do realize I could poke your eyeballs out and squash you like a bug right about.... now!" he hissed. The next thing you felt was your chin being lifted up by his gloved hand, holding it in a tight grip, forcing you to face him. You avoided looking directly into his eyes so you just stared at his hand. Unfortunately for you, that seemed to bother him, "My eyes are up here," he used his free hand to point at his eyes.

The fabric of his white glove was soft but his touch was aggressive and harsh, the clutch on your chin was hard, "... I just... I just came here to give you this, nothing more." At first, Jerome was very sceptical, not believing any of it. He even thought the pudding was poisoned and insisted on you having a try before he did. The rest was history.

That happened approximately one year prior. You had spent the last 12 months seeing Jerome 2 times a week: one time during his therapy appointments every Thursday, the other time every Friday night, when most of the Asylum's staff had gone home. You had stolen they keys to his prison cell and no one knew about your late at night meetings with the clown prince.

The first times everything was pretty awkward, Jerome used to search your bag and pockets for any sharp objects that you could potentially use against him. But with time he stopped doing that. Approximately after 6 months.

You mostly brought him food, especially sweets, Jerome loved candies but he wasn't allowed to eat those in prison. Sometimes you even played cards with him and he would win every game, the boy knew how to play the jokers, that's certain. He did make inappropriate jokes from time to time, but nothing that made you too uncomfortable. He never touched you or anything like that. Everything stayed platonic.

One time you attached a colorful self-made bracelet to his wrist. You had a similar one on yours. Jerome pretend he didn't like it, telling you that friendship jewels were a waste, but truth be told, he liked it, he wore it all the time, he liked playing with it beads. Of course, he made sure it stayed hidden underneath his sleeve. He didn't want anyone else to see him like that. He had a reputation to uphold. Thus sometimes he would threaten your life in a playful manner just because he was Jerome Valeska.

You had also noticed the ginger was great at arts and crafts so you brought him crayons. Lots of them. The previous week you even brought him a scissors after he had begged you to for weeks. He promised he wasn't going to hurt other prisoners with it. He was using those to draw and decorate his diary. You knew he had a personal journal that he had never showed you. But you were cool with that. Though you wished he could open up to you, you didn't want to push, you wanted him to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he had to. All you knew was that you desperately wanted to help him get better. You didn't feel that way about other patients. Obviously, you wanted to help them too, but with Jerome it was different. Not that you would ever admit it out loud, but you had grown some sort of crush on the maniac. You knew how wrong that was, but you couldn't help the way he made you feel everytime his eyes met yours or when he smiled at you. You came to the realization that Jerome wasn't half as bad unless he was surrounded by other loonies or by people he despised. He was quite chill aside from his maniacally laughter.

Although Jerome didn't own a watch, he simply knew what time you were supposed to show up. In fact, he had actually grown to like your little visits. At first he found all of this annoying and irritating, but with time he changed his mind. You weren't so bad after all. Actually, he was waiting impatiently each of your visits. You were nice to him. Not a lot of people were nice to him. Nobody, actually. Just you.

Therefore you being late one certain night didn't go unnoticed. Strange, Jerome thought at first. You had never been late before. Was this all? Did you spend all that time with him only to leave him like that? Did you replace him with another patient? Did you get bored of him? Did something bad happen to you, perhaps?

Jerome shook his head. He didn't like to picture you dead. Why was that? He loved everything about death and killing, blood and gore. Why did it bother him now? He promised himself he wouldn't get attached. No, no, Jerome Valeska didn't give a shit about anyone. He was heartless. A monster. Everybody said so, so then it must be true. So what if you died? Who cared? Not him, that's for sure. Yeah.

But then, why had he been walking circles in his small cell for minutes? Why was he breathing heavier and why did he have an awful gut feeling? And now how did he find himself in this position again? Sitting on his bed, facing the wall with teary eyes, clinching his fists anxiously and twiddling his trembling thumbs. There were drops of dark red blood on his already dirty mattress. Drops of blood between the beads of his bracelet. When did that happen? He could vividly remember when he started pressing the scissors down his wrist. It all happened so fast. He didn't even apply much pressure and yet he had managed to draw enough blood to cover his fingertips. How did he end up like this? Like a sobbing mess. Why did you do this to him? Why did you give him hope? He should've known better. Humans are deceitful beings. They lie and they never keep their promises. One day they love you, the next they don't need you anymore. So he really didn't learn anything from trusting Theo Galavan after all. He remembered it as clear as day. He thought he could finally be happy when Theo came along, gave him a proper bed and proper clothes. He was like the father he never had. But then his life flashed before his eyes as he dropped dead by the hand of the one man he thought was trustworthy.

Oh, dear ol' Jerome. Getting attached to the first person to treat him like a normal human being again. So all those times you took care of him were all on act. Of course. Why was he so stupid? Stupid enough to think anyone would ever care about him. Of course it was all a lie. He hated you. This was pathetic. Everyone was pathetic. Crying was pathetic. Crying was for the weak. Jerome wasn't weak. Not anymore. But what if, perhaps, you weren't even real? What if he had been imagining you the whole time? After all, it was all too good to be true. But maybe that's just the way life is: it hits you harder than a train truck, then you feel good for a while because you start doing things that distract you from how you truly feel, killings in his case. But then you realize you weren't ever really happy, just delusional and that makes you depressed again. It's like a never ending loop.

The boy shivered at his own thoughts. So many questions at the same time. His mind was suffocating him. But he liked it, didn't he? Or maybe did he just trick himself into thinking he liked it? He liked being sick, right? Who was he without his sickness? Pills. He needed more pills. The pills were never enough. If only he had enough pills to...

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the very familiar sound of his creaky door being unlocked then opened. Jerome knew this could mean one thing. He quickly wiped his teary eyes with his knuckles then clothed his fingers with his gloves. He cleared his throat, "Where were you?" he asked, his voice harsher than ever. He didn't want you to see him vulnerable. He tried to hide it. He didn't want to admit not even to himself he was somewhat worried. But, in fact, he had grown very fond of you. He wasn't sure why, he wasn't sure what he felt towards you. There's a very thin line between love and obsession. All in all, part of him was relieved once he heard your voice.

"I'm sorry, Jerome. I had some things to take care of. Things that involve you, actually," you closed the door behind you and took a few steps forward.

The last sentence got Jerome's attention so naturally he turned his head around to look at you. His stare was so intense it seemed like he was staring directly into your soul. His hazel eyes were so beautiful yet so terrifying, you couldn't stare at them for too long. The dark circles under his eyes were darker than ever and you wondered if he ever slept. It was your job to help him get better but it seemed that he was getting worse everyday, like he was losing himself therefore you were failing. But you had to pull him out of his misery. You had to.

"You threatened Oswald Cobblepot," Jerome couldn't help but snicker proudly at your remark before you could continue your sentence "And you also took his medicine. How many times have I told you that taking meds you don't need only makes things worse?" you paused but the boy didn't reply. He knew it was bad, he just couldn't help himself. You sighed "They want to change your therapist, Jerome. They don't think I'm doing a good job with you."

Jerome's face dropped, "As in you'll be replaced?" he asked and you nodded. No, this wasn't possible. You were lying, you had to be. First you're late, now this. The redhead jumped out of his bed and walked up to you, "You're lying."

"Jerome-" you started but he didn't let you finish.

"Don't you dare to Jerome me. You're an hour late and now you're telling me you wanna get rid of me?" his tone went from numb to mad in a matter of seconds.

"I'm so sorry for the waiting, I'll try my best to keep you. I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die."

That only made Jerome crackle in an ironic manner "Oh please, Y/N. Don't make promises you know you can't keep. Empty promises. You're growing tired of me. It's funny, actually. I think this may be just my luck! Jeremiah promised he wouldn't leave too, but he did anyhow. And now you."

"Who's Jeremiah? I don't know what you're talking abo..." you felt like you couldn't breathe as panick took control over your body, "...why is there blood on your gloves?"

Shit, Jerome thought. "It's paint," he smiled but you knew he was lying the moment he tried to change the subject "Jeremiah's an old acquaintance, if you will."

"I never brought you paint..." you murmured. Then you remembered what you did bring him. The scissors. "You promised you won't hurt anyone with it..." you whispered.

Jerome shrugged, "I promised I wouldn't other inmates. I never promised I wouldn't hurt... myself...!"

Your eyes opened widely at the sudden realization. You covered your mouth with your fingers and your heart was beating impossibly fast while tears were filling your eyes. It was only now that you noticed his slightly puffy eyes too, "I'm so sorry... Jerome... oh God..." you muttered. He didn't look at you until he felt your hand on his.

Jerome hesitated to speak at first, "Oh, y'know... the scissors just slipped. I'm fine, really. No need to worry about me. If anything, I like bleeding out."

You knew that wasn't true. "I'm gonna get the doctor... we need to get it patched up."

"Then they'll know you're here."

"I don't care. I'll probably lose my job anyway. You hurt yourself, Jerome. You could get an infection. Fuck, I was supposed to help you get better but I didn't do shit! Now you're bleeding and it's all because of me-" you were cut off by Jerome's gloved hand covering your mouth.

"Shh. I'm fine, Y/N. It's not that serious. It's just... I don't feel safe when my scars are healed. I need to bleed to calm myself. It's like a part of me. It's my biggest comfort."

You tried to mumble something underneath his hand which made him frown, "I don't need your pity, Y/N. You're trying to weaken me, it won't work," he moved his hand, giving you the chance to speak.

"Please, Jerome. I care about you! I won't let you hurt yourself any longer!" you cried out. It was true. You would've done anything for him and it hurt you knowing he was harming himself. He thought he had it all under control but clearly he didn't. You were scared of what he could do to himself next. You couldn't just watch him destroying himself knowing you could've helped him.

Jerome shook his head repeatedly and covered his ears with his plams while circling around the room, mumbling things to himself. Eventually, his voice got louder and louder, "NO NO NO NO NO! No, you don't, stop saying that! Cut the bullshit, Y/N! You don't care about me, no one does! Jerome has no one, Jerome's all alone! It's how it's always been. It's how it's always gonna be. What the fuck do you want from me? Look at me! I have wanted to die for as long as I can remember. And guess what? When I finally did some jerks thought it'd be funny to bring me back to this shitty life! You think you understand me, but you don't! You can't save me, you can't fix me! What have you done to me? You cracked me! Just leave me alone! Leave me alone! LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!!" he yelled as he shed a single tear.

His face turned red from all the rage and you could swear he was gonna kill you at that very moment, but he didn't. Instead, his body collapsed on the ground. He was hugging his knees while staring at the floor, with his back pressed against the cold wall. You had no clue what just happened but he looked defenseless, practically harmless right now. You knew this was risky, but you kneeled next to him then reached out your hand and caressed his shoulders which caused him to look at you. You didn't see a psychopath in his eyes anymore, just a frightened child. That wasn't the ginger maniac everybody feared. That was a poor boy stuck in his traumatic past.

"Let it out, Jerome. This is why I came here, so we could talk like 2 human beings. Help me understand you. I know I can't take your pain away, but you can talk to me," you whispered.

"I'm not a human being. I'm a monster, can't you see? Everybody fears me. I'm the monster parents tell their children about," he muttered quietly. Usually he said that proudly, but now it sounded as if he was ashamed, which was very out of character. What he felt at that very moment was confusion.

"You're not a monster, Jerome. I have this feeling that... you're misunderstood, like no one ever listened to what you had to say. I am here to listen and I promise I won't laugh or judge. But if you hold everything inside you it's only gonna get worse... Let it all out, please." you spoke in a soft murmur.

"I don't even know.... what I am supposed to say," Jerome sobbed.

"Anything that comes to mind, that upsets you, that you wanna get off your chest. What is that one thought that won't let you get rest at night? The things you always wanted to say but nobody ever listened to. The things you always tried to forget because it all hurt too much. I can see the depth and complicity of your character, Jerome. You're not evil. Your past is haunting you, isn't it? I can see it in your face, it was rough. So please, I just want to help you. And I won't tell anyone, you have my word."

The ginger glanced at you with furrowed brows, trying to keep track of his thoughts. He felt something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. He felt helpless and he didn't know why. He didn't know why he suddenly no longer felt in control. Was it because you were the first person to actually look at his wounds concerned instead of laughing? Because you were willing to actually listen to what he had to say? No one had ever told him that before. Except for you. But he couldn't bring himself to entirely believe anyone could actually care about him. His chest was hurting and his heart was aching. He was tired of hiding.

"... okay, I'll tell you everything," he nodded his head eventually, "but I'll never tell this story again so you better be all ears."

You nodded while caressing his once-so-soft-cheek slowly. Initially he shuddered, then he closed his eyes and leaned in your touch, giving you permission to carry on. Tracing your fingers on his cold pale skin made you feel his every scar, but his scars didn't scare you, they never did. You could tell he wasn't used to this kind of stuff. He wasn't used to people treating him like a normal human being. He wasn't used to being touched unless the touch was meant to harm him. He hadn't even started talking but you just knew something terrible was about to come out of his mouth.

The man took a deep breath. He knew that once he started speaking he wouldn't be able to stop. He had been holding all in for so long, it all came out like word vomit.

"Jeremiah is my twin brother. He was always mother's favorite. Mother. Can I even call her that? No, she was never my mom. Lila Valeska never loved me. She never treated me like her son, not even when I was a baby. She had only one son and that was Jeremiah. I was just... there. Like a nephew she had to take care of or something. But not a son, no. She always said I ruined her life. Yeah, like it's my fault she had unprotected sex. But I could never understand why she praised Jeremiah all the time. What was so special about him? What was he doing so much better than me to get that kind of appreciation from mama when we were just 5 years old? I can only remember he was into maths and puzzles and that kind of shits from a young age. He pissed the hell out of me. But I didn't hate him. I mean, at the end of the day he was still my brother. And sometimes he would hold me while that whore was busy banging clowns the next room, assuring me that everything would be alright and that mother didn't actually hate me, promising me that one day we'll get out of the circus and live our best lives. What a dirty little liar...! And to think I actually used to believe his empty promises... Until he turned his back on me."

Jerome paused. His eyes were now filled with anger, you could tell he didn't like his brother much. Then he continued.

"It happened once we turned 7. Lila had hit me multiple times and I don't even remember what was the reason, but then again, it's not like she ever needed a reason to hurt me. Before this it was usually just slaps, but this time it was a proper beating. The sadness mixed with anger I felt at the time were too much to handle for a little boy. I had to somehow let it out, y'know? So... I started mutilating small animals. Soon I grew an interest in murdering them. And it felt... therapeutic. I know I should feel ashamed of this, but I don't. I never did. Hell, I even pretended they were her because I knew I wasn't strong enough to actually hurt her back. How fucked up I must've been to behave this way at 7, right? But things got complicated when Jeremiah found out. He said," Jerome talked in two different thin voices the next parts:

"... ' I understand your anger, 'Romie! I think it's quite interesting, really! '

I actually believed him and replied happily ' You think so, 'Miah? But please don't tell 'ma, she'll get really mad at me! My cheek still hurts from the last slap she gave me! '

' I would never! She hits me too sometimes, you know. But I don't know why she's so mean to you all the time! '..."

Jerome cleared his throat and went back to his usual tone "Well, he kept his promise, kinda. He didn't tell our mother but he told uncle Zach ―and let me tell you this― he was the WORST. Such cruelness in one man. He used to cook food for the other circus members, but he was an ex prisoner, spent years in jail for robbery and rape. Yeah, that's my fucked up uncle. He was a cook and yet I was always left to starve. Mind you but I used to be underweight 'cause of that.

Anyway ...! Dear ol' Zach thought I had gone psychopathic when little 'Miah showed him the dead animals' corpses, so he made sure he worked me over. And, of course, Lila made sure of that as well. And as if those injuries weren't enough, Jeremiah saw this as a perfect opportunity to leave the circus. He started spreading rumors about me kickin' and punching him, feeding my mom and uncle with funny stories about me threatening his life, when the truth is I never touched a hair of his. For him, those were the stories that were gonna get him out of that damned place we so called home. For me, those were the stories that were gonna ruin my life. Even though I tried to defend myself they never believed me, because after all I was the animal abuser while he was the perfect innocent son, with his little nerdy hamster glasses and fancy books and puzzles. And let's just say, it didn't end well for me when he would randomly bring up something that didn't even happen. He had totally brainwashed them and I was lucky if I could get away with just a slap or two. But they didn't abuse me just physically... verbally as well. The amount of times I heard them planning my murdering were countless. And maybe they should have done it. Maybe they should have murdered me. Instead, they used to remind me every single day that I was such a heartless psycho monster who's gonna cause nothing but disaster. Well, I guess they weren't exactly wrong with that one. I mean, just look at me now..." he narrowed his eyes.

"Nobody ever stood up for me. Nobody cared. Nobody. They always managed to cover it all up, they always told me to smile once they were done. I was known as Haly's Circus little sociopath. And Jeremiah? They'd always make sure he was treated right, that he got the best stuff, while I could be freezing at night and they wouldn't even notice.

On our 9th birthday our uncle decided to take Jeremiah to the city away from me so he could celebrate his birthday properly and left me with my mom and her partner at the time. The got drunk and had sex all day, not caring that I was in the same room, beating the shit out of me afterwards. And when I had finally managed to get out of that hell of a trailer, my father ―I didn't know he was my father back then, but he knew I was his son― didn't even try to comfort me, he simply told me to suck it up because nobody cared. And he was right. This world indeed doesn't care about me or anyone else. But for a child? Damn, that hurt. And I suppose it's even sadder now knowing he was my dad...

Moving on, by the time we were almost 10 his lies got worse and worse, and so were the beatings. According to him I had tried to poison him and to light his bed on fire. One time he injured his knee when he fell on the ground, but later lied about me pushing him down the stairs. But the last straw was when he lied about me holding a cake knife to his throat on our 10th birthday. My uncle almost broke my ribs for that and my mom repeatedly kicked my stomach with her legs. Honestly, I can't really remember that day. All I know is that they decided it would be the best if uncle Zach took Jeremiah away while I was asleep. And I'm not gonna lie, I was pleased when I saw they both left, but little did I know that it was only gonna get worse for me.

Haly's Circus is a nightmare dressed like a daydream. A lot of fucked up things happened there. I hated that place. And with Jeremiah gone, she started drinking more and more, and got more aggressive. She got pissed at every little thing I did and made sure I received punishment. Did I forget to do that dishes? She'd kick me. Forgot to take out the trash? She'd slap me across the face. Didn't feed her snake? She'd punch me. Was breathing too heavily for her liking or my existence simply bothered her? She'd beat me till my vision was blurry or till I coughed in my own blood. I did try to get help from the cops, but guess what! They didn't give 2 shits! Ya see, the system is so corrupt they don't care unless someone's been murdered. They made fun of me and I understood no one could ever save me, I was the only one that could free myself from the pain."

You stood quiet when Jerome removed his gloves. You hadn't seen his hands unclothed in a very, very long time. Last time you saw his bare fingers was before he died. His veins were more noticeable now, among with multiple half healed blueish bruises he had probably given himself. Seeing Jerome without his gloves felt like him breaking a wall between the two of you. Like he trusted you. Like he trusted you enough for you to see him at his lowest. He needed to trust you enough to tell you everything. The scarred man was silent for a brief moment, trying to find the right words to describe the next part of his story that made you feel like throwing up.

"On my 14th birthday one of Lila's hookers...how do I say this... one of her hookers touched me, Y/N. Like, parts he shouldn't have touched... And... she was there, watching. She didn't do anything to stop him, she didn't even try. I was crying and screaming and begging her to make him stop. She just laughed. Her awful witch-like laugh followed by her favorite line: ' shut up! boys don't cry! '. And afterwards she just left with him for the night and before that she told me to smile. Smile. I felt so embarrassed and ashamed. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't feel my body. The only thing I could feel were his hands all over my body... To put it into words, I felt worthless and helpless. Smile," Jerome smiled weakly through the tears as he repeated his mother's words, hugging his own body, "Smile. I was smiling that night. I was smiling when I tried to kill myself. It was all too much, I couldn't handle it. My life was a living Hell I started to believe Hell itself couldn't be that bad. So... I just took a bunch of her pills and I thought that was it, I thought I was finally gonna die. I smiled because I thought everything was finally going to end. Sadly, I survived. After taking the pills I dropped down to my knees and then... I don't know. I can't really remember anything except the fact I woke up with a terrible headache. Did she notice? Nope. Did those pills have had an effect on me? Absolutely.

I didn't have anyone to comfort me anymore. Not that Jeremiah was ever a great comfort, but it was better than nothing. I didn't have any friends, 'cause who would wanna befriend the freak who tried to murder his twin and massacred tons of pets? And if anyone tried to get close to me I would push them away. Literally. Push them. Because what was the point in denying my violent urges? Everybody thought I was the villain already anyway."

Jerome paused to blow his nose into a handkerchief you handed him. You were at loss of words. This was a lot to process and Jerome's voice was now shaky. It was painful to hear his life story, it was painful to look at him now, to stare at the helplessness in his eyes. Tough people always have the most heartbreaking pasts.

"I used to cry myself to sleep every night, but I barely managed to fall asleep knowing that she could strangulate me when her snake in my sleep, and I low-key hoped she would so my suffering could end already. But when I did manage to fall asleep I ended up getting a... What was that called? Oh yeah, sleep paralysis. She was the demon suffocating me. Even now... I can't ever properly fall asleep. I'm always half awake. Actually forget I said that... Stupid! stupid...." he cried while gripping on his ginger hairs, scratching his thin pale skin with his sharp nails.

"Jerome," you whispered and took his hands in yours, "it's not stupid. Your emotions are valid. Please, carry on."

The boy nodded and did as you said, "At some point I just stopped talking because my body was hurting so much. I started isolating myself from everything and everyone. Because you see, people like me, we're put in this world for one thing: to suffer. The only thing that made the pain go away for a while was the thought of torturing her, cutting her open and feeding her snake with her organs then bathing in a pool of her blood and maybe sending her bones to Jeremiah. All I know is that I was so sick and tired of her calling me names and spitting on my face, beating me up till I bled, abusing me, banging my head against the wall, ripping my hairs off, punching me with her cold fists, slapping and pinching my skin, throwing empty alcohol bottles at me and kicking my bones. And when she was done with beating me, she'd always call over one of her sex partners to have some fun. I was tired of having to hear her moans as she was getting railed the next room. But I knew better than disturbing her, because if I did she'd invite her lovers to beat me too... or worse. I just had to keep quiet because if I behaved she'd leave me alone for a day or two.

But in time I got used to it. The beatings and all. It didn't even hurt that much anymore. The psychical wounds healed eventually, but the emotionally ones were always there. She didn't even need to get physical, her words were enough to torture me, they were like poisson. Her words cut deeper than a knife. When she wasn't the one hurting me I was hurting myself. That's so messed up, I know. But what isn't messed up about me or my life? I just couldn't help it. I had grown addicted to watching myself bleed. It's like... that was my only comfort. My sadness, my pain... Bugs. There were bugs on my skin, crawling on it. One second they were there, the next they weren't. I had to peel some of my skin off just to make sure. But I liked it. I think. It looked pretty. Such a pretty shade of red...! I could've stared at it for hours. Don't know if I was high or if I just had lost touch with reality. Or maybe both.

I just wished she would just kill me already and be done with it, 'cause it was better to be dead than to be alive and suffering. I just wished that everything would go quiet once and for all. My mind was like a prison I could not escape. My mind was the darkest place. The negative thoughts, they were always there. The voices telling me to do horrible things to myself. People screaming. A thousand voices howling in my head all the time. Dead people. I saw dead people everywhere. I couldn't control it.

Nobody cared about me, so who would've noticed if one day I just disappeared from this world? If one day I just stopped breathing? Definitely not her. If anything, she'd beat my corpse. I mean, she didn't even notice my first attempt.

That's what I told myself as I tried to slash my veins. But then I heard it," his face suddenly lit up, "That voice. The voice. The only comfort I ever had was that voice in the back of my head. That voice that grew louder as the years passed by. That voice that was giving me hope saying ' your day will come, your revenge will come, you just have to be patient '. And I had done my waiting. All the suffering, all the abuse I was forced to endure were about the end. I wasn't gonna let her win. Little did that whore know her beatings gave me strength and a high pain tolerance. Suddenly, all the fear I ever felt towards her turned into hatred and anger. She was going to pay for everything she had ever made me go through. People call me insane but they don't know my insanity gave me strength to save myself from that Hell I used to call home.

So, by the time I was 16 I had already started planning her murdering. I started working out and made better meals for myself so I'd be sure I was stronger than she was. I wanted to no longer be skinny. I had also made the perfect plan to kill her and get away with it.

So on my 18th birthday, like a birthday gift for myself, if you will, I grabbed an axe and chopped her off, hitting her repeatedly with it, digging it up and down into her skin. The first stab was the hardest one, but once I saw blood drawing out I just couldn't stop. I laughed as I did. Seeing her like that, lifeless and all covered in blood made me shiver in a good way. It was like feeling a brand new emotion. I was...happy? Entertained? I had finally given in that voice, I was finally free! That day I promised myself that I would come after my brother and uncle too, they also needed to pay for the way they'd treated me. And after that I'd be finally free to kill myself... I know how fucked up that sounds, but now that you know what they put me through, I hope you understand why I had to do it. There was no other way. One of us had to go. I killed her because she deserved it, self defense really. You get it, right? Tell me you get it, please."

You nodded while massaging his thumbs. His eyes were red and so were yours. You were both crying. Jerome couldn't believe he just told you all of that. He had never told anyone about any of that before. Did he say too much? Did you not want to be near him anymore?

"Jerome, I don't even know where to begin... you are such a strong person, really. You didn't deserve what happened to you. It wasn't your fault. You were just a child, none of this was your fault. No one ever treated you like a human being. No one ever gave you a chance. It's like you were forced to be evil, you didn't have a choice. They made you evil. They turned you into the villain. Of course you snapped eventually. I can't blame you. I would've done the same if I were in your shoes. No one ever gave you the chance to tell the full story. I wish I could take it away. All the pain, all the suffering... Oh, Jerome... I can't even begin to describe how bad I feel for you. Your heart has endured way too much at a way too young age. It's not you who is the monster. It's them. You had and have every right to kill them, I'll even help you. Jerome... I'm so proud of you for staying alive. Jerome, please remember that you matter. You matter to me. I see you, Jerome. I see you for who you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? You are a very, very handsome boy."

"Even with the scars?"Jerome smiled, his eyes puffy from crying. Not a threatening or disturbing smile. A genuine smile that made you smile too.

"Absolutely. Your scars just show how strong you are. Your scars make you prettier. I myself ain't a strong person but... I won't let anyone hurt you anymore, you've been through enough. And I won't let you hurt yourself either. Because I care. And you can trust me with anything, Jerome. Let me be the one person that makes you feel like home. Please." you got lost in his gaze. Words weren't enough to express what you felt. So you just hugged him. A gentle, loving hug. Jerome wasn't a touchy person in general, but he gave in and hurled himself into your warm embrace. Soon he was holding you so close to him like he was never going to let you go. Then he cried more. And louder. He cried on your shoulder and you patted his back. This was all new to him, he was still confused by the way he was acting. But it just felt right. He felt safe at last. He wondered if you were an angel sent from Heaven to rescue him. You scooped him up in your arms. Yours arms were tight around him, his head on your chest. He needed this. He needed to feel okay. He needed feel loved and accepted. You held each other for so long you could feel each other's breathing, and you weren't going to let go of each other anytime soon.

"Thank you for listening."

[vampiric-transsexual]

I’ve got a bit of a theory brewing in my noggin regarding the Guide. I’m placing bets that the Guide’s storyline points towards her villain arc. Hear me out-

In season 3 the Guide is appointed to assist the new leaders of the Vampiric Council, our Staten Island vampires. She has been an underling for the vampiric council for centuries and manages the Temple of Blood-Devourers.

She has followed the orders of many legendary councils, "the best of the best" as she refers to them. Now she is in the hands of a group of vampires who do not care about the rules and who violate the vampiric code by which they live at every turn. But she is required to help them and so she does.

In season 4, she quickly finds that she cannot control them. Laszlo and Colin destroy artifacts from the Chamber of Curiosities. Nandor and Nadja neglect to feed the sire and he escapes. She oversaw the sacred reliquary for hundreds of years and they dismantled all of it in a matter of weeks. Then Nadja suggests they turn the whole place into a bar. She is completely opposed to this idea and only comes around when Nadja tells the Guide that the liquidator of underlings of the Supreme Worldwide Vampiric Council, Lord Tyractus (?), said that it would be better used as a bar.

This is of course a lie but the Guide cares what the Supreme Vampiric Council thinks of her and her dedicated work. So, she agrees to the bar. She can’t get her wraiths to help with converting the space into a bar because “they know what her heart really wants”. To help get through this mental block, Laszlo books her for a therapy session. That’s where we discover her history of falling in love with a Van Helsing. (I would also like to point out that the picture of the Guide with the Van Helsing in her flashback is the same one we see in the open credits for season 5) Her form of punishment is to serve the Vampiric Council as an underling for eternity. She explicitly tells Laszlo in her therapy session that “if anything gets changed here something very bad will happen.” Could this be hinting towards some greater power beyond her control?

Finally they are able to gut the chambers for Nadja’s bar. Nadja treats the Guide and her wraiths so poorly the whole time. Despite all this, she sticks by Nadja’s side. She does her best to fulfill her duties despite their constant mistreatment.

We learn in the beginning of season 5 that she is once again left waiting at the Vampiric Council. At this point she has mostly given up on trying to make them follow the legacy of the vampiric council. So instead, she pursues respect and admiration from the vampires. But she cannot make her way into the clique.

She wants to live with them, but they make up a fake excuse about there being zoning rules that limit four vampires to a house. Then she tries to support a depressed Nadja after the bar burned down from the fire Nadja started. The guide can’t get through to her, so she suggests maybe it is a hex. She asks Nadja if she has been unkind to anyone in her past. Nadja is in denial that she could have possibly hurt anyone, let alone the Guide.

The Guide knows witchcraft, so it would make sense that she placed this “hex” on Nadja. But is the hex even real? Or did the Guide just say that to scare Nadja into realizing her own selfish behaviors?

Now the Roast is where we see things shift for the Guide.

At the roast she tells Baron that Guillermo was the one who set him on fire, because she felt bad that he wasn’t in on the joke. She mentions how bad it feels to not feel included. But then she also tells the Baron that Guillermo is a Van Helsing. This I believe is purposeful.

They have neglected her, given her nothing to actually guide, and left her aimless. She ends up apologizing and admitting to Nandor and Nadja that she told the Baron that Guillermo burned him. But she purposefully leaves out that she told the Baron about Guillermo's Van Helsing blood, too.

In the end, she is an underling for the Vampiric Council. She will not risk everything for these vampires, because her loyalties lie with the Supreme Vampiric Council. I am theorizing that she may end up selling Guillermo out to show her loyalty to the Supreme Vampiric Council and as a way of getting some revenge on the vamps for how they’ve mistreated her. I believe it’s possible she could be working with this “mysterious, illustrious” vampire (possibly part of the Supreme Vampiric Council?) to lure Guillermo into a trap.

In the screen capture for the 9th episode, we see Guillermo and the Guide standing next to each other. I don’t believe the Guide has any good intentions towards Guillermo after seeing how she betrayed him by telling the Baron about his slayer blood.

I mean there’s only so long someone can put up with being left out of a friend group and being unappreciated.

Addition:

I mean, the Guide has barely been a part of the last few episodes. They added her to the main cast/opening credits but her character's only story so far is that she wants to be roomies with the vampires. She made no progress in her own story up until the Roast. She took matters into her own hands by divulging Guillermo's secrets.. and if she continues in that direction then she could very well become the villian. It just doesn't make sense to have so little story for a main cast member. They have to be taking a big jump with her character in these last two episodes. Otherwise the whole Nadja and Guide subplot will fall completely flat. And imagine Nadja's surprise when she finds out that the Guide was behind the hex?

[btsficsandsuch]

Everything’s Going to Be Okay

You’re going through a rough time and your husband Yoongi is there to be the support that you need.

Warning: Mentions of depression/anxiety, specifically postpartum depression and anxiety.

I wrote this as kind of a therapy. I mentioned that part of the reason I was starting to write again was because of my anxiety. I have a newborn at home and postpartum anxiety is no joke and I wish I had someone as supportive as this Yoongi in my life. It really does get easier though and I’m starting to feel better.

——————————————————————————

You never thought motherhood would be this hard. You expected the physical pain and the sleepless nights, but you never expected the mental toll it would take on you. Maybe struggling with anxiety long before you gave birth definitely wasn’t helping, but you noticed a significant decline in your mental health once your son was born. Your husband Yoongi noticed this as well.

Your anxiety was starting to become debilitating. Were you a good enough mom? Are you doing everything right? Were you still being a good wife? Does your son love you? What will his future look like? All these thoughts ran through your head day after day.

Yoongi tried his hardest to be there for you in any way that he could. He managed to get a few weeks off to be able to stay at home with you and your son. He kept up on all the household chores making sure the house stayed clean and organized for you. He cooked you three meals a day and made sure you stayed hydrated. He’d wake up with you at 3am when it was time to feed your son though you told him several times he didn’t have to since there wasn’t much he was able to do, but he insisted that if you had to wake up so would he even if it was just to offer moral support.

He was the perfect partner which you should’ve been so happy about, but it just made you feel guilty. You have a beautiful healthy son and a husband who’d walk to the ends of the earth for you and you still couldn’t make yourself to feel happy.

When your son was 6 weeks old it was time for Yoongi to go back to work. He was worried about you, “Y/N I can talk to them and see if I can get more time off. I don’t want to leave you yet.” The two of you were laying in bed together just after Yoongi’s alarm had gone off signaling it was time for him to go. You wrapped your arms around his waist even tighter, “No babe it’s okay. You’ve missed so much as it is. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Deep down you were worried. You were struggling with Yoongi around so you didn’t know how you were going to manage without him here, but you didn’t want him to give up everything because you couldn’t handle it.

You were sitting on the couch holding your son when Yoongi came walking over car keys in hand. He leaned down and kissed your son, “Be a good boy for your mom alright. She’s doing her best so go easy on her.” He then turned his attention to you, “Please call me if you need anything Y/N. I already let the company know that I won’t hesitate to leave if I need to. My mom also said she’s just a phone call away if you need any thing.” You nodded as he leaned in for a kiss and you watched him walk out out the door.

The first few hours were surprisingly easy. Your son was napping and you were even able to get some stuff done around the house. Yoongi checked on you every hour, asking if you needed anything. You kept thinking how lucky you were to have someone like him. Someone that added so much extra stress to their own life just to try and ease the stress in yours. You were mid thought when the guilt set in. Yoongi was making his life harder because you were weak. He was constantly worried about you because you weren’t able to cope. He couldn’t fully enjoy the first few weeks of his sons life because he had to constantly dote on you because you couldn’t get this right.

You could feel the panic attack starting. It was getting difficult to breathe. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. Your body was beginning to sweat. Luckily your son was still sound asleep in his crib. You decided to try and get your mind off of things. You put a load of laundry in the dryer and decided to start on dinner. You were chopping some vegetables trying your best to get this attack to pass when you heard your son start crying through the baby monitor.

You walked to his nursery and brought him with you over to the rocking chair. You began to feed him staring into his tiny eyes. “I’m so sorry Y/S/N. I’m sorry I’m not a good mom. I’m really trying. I promise I’ll get better. But even if I don’t you have the best daddy in the world and he’ll always be there for you when I can’t.” He finished his feed and you changed his diaper and set him back in the crib.

While staring at his perfect little face it hit you in full force. Tears streaming down your face you walked into the hallway and slid down onto the floor. You pulled your knees to your chest finally letting out the sobs you had been holding in. Worried that you wouldn’t be able to take care of your son properly you made the phone call you never thought you’d make.

Yoongi picked up on the second ring, “Y/N are you okay?” You couldn’t say anything. “Y/N tell me what’s wrong.”, he said the concern evident in his voice. “I’m sorry.”, was all you could say between sobs. “Stay right there Y/N. I’m already in my car and I’m on the way.”

You didn’t know what to do. Normally you’d go for a walk or take a hot shower to calm your anxiety, but you knew you needed to be close for your son in case he needed you. You sat outside his nursery and cried. Just when you thought you had run out of tears Yoongi walked through the door. He came right over and crouched down helping you to your feet, “I’m just going to check on Y/S/N real quick okay. Stay right here.” You nodded and watched him walk into the nursery. Yoongi smiled looking down at his baby boy, peacefully sleeping.

Yoongi walked back out and took your hand leading you to the bathroom. He turned on the shower to the temperature he knew you liked. He helped you take off your clothes and undo your hair from the bun it had been in for the last week, “I’ll keep an eye on Y/S/N. Take your time and come out when you’re ready.” You nodded and stepped into the steamy shower. The water hot enough to calm the ache in your chest, but just below the point of burning you. Once again Yoongi was there for you and knew how to help you and all you did was force him to come home early and take care of you.

You spent a while in the shower trying to wash away all the anxiety and guilt and depression. When you got out of the shower you noticed Yoongi had placed your favorite sweats and one of his T-shirts on the counter for you.

When you walked into the bedroom Yoongi was sitting on the bed. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to sit next to him. You tried to pull away, “I need to go feed Y/S/N.” Yoongi shook his head, “I fed him with one of the emergency bottles. He’s sleeping comfortably.” “Well I need to go finish dinner so you have something to eat.”, you said trying to avoid the conversation you knew was about to take place. He shook his head again, “I already ordered some takeout.”

You nodded and the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes until Yoongi began, “Y/N I’m sorry.” You couldn’t hold the tears any longer. You buried your face in his neck wrapping your arms around him, “No I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m the worst wife and mother. I should be happy but I’m not. And all I do is make you worry about me. You have to stop your life to take care of me. I don’t know how to make these feelings go away.”

You cried into his shoulder for several minutes while he slowly rubbed your back. Once he felt like you had calmed down some he lifted your chin so that you were looking at him, “Y/N it’s normal to feel these things. You’ve been through so much over the last couple months. Hell even the nine months before that. You are the best mom. Y/S/N is always fed and changed and loved. Even today when you had a breakdown you still made sure he was taken care of and the first thing you thought of when you got out of the shower was making sure he was okay. And you’ve always been and still are the best wife I could’ve ever asked for. Even in your distressed state you’re worried about making sure I have dinner to eat. You gave me the best gift ever of a child and now it’s my turn to be there for you and give you everything that I can by being whatever you need. We’ll take it day by day. I know things are tough right now, but everything will be okay.”

You could feel the tears start again, a mix of sad tears and happy tears. “How did I get so lucky?”, you said before kissing his cheek. Yoongi smiled, “Have you looked in the mirror lately? I think I’m the lucky one.” You gave him another kiss before getting up to leave the room.

You grabbed your son and brought him out to the living room with you. Yoongi sat on the couch next to you feeding you bites of your dinner while you fed your son. Yoongi’s words repeated in your head. You were going through a rough time, but you had your beautiful son to watch grow up and you had the best support system in Yoongi. You knew he’d never let you fall and just like he’s said, Everything’s going to be okay.

[stormz369]

The King of Hell and Me: Ch 2 - Molting

Chapter Guide Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Summary: Lucifer goes missing because he's embarrassed. Preening ensues. Wolf-demon reader. Warnings: fluff, Lucifer being bad at vulnerability, animal characteristics, implied arousal, rated mature (maybe?) Word Count: 3k

Lucifer had his own home, of course. But since the hotel’s grand re-opening, he’d been staying in his suite here. To be closer to Charlie, or to get himself out of his depression funk, or maybe both, it wasn’t clear. Either way, we’d found ourselves spending a lot of time together. We ate breakfast together most days, he told me all about his most recent duck-based inventions, and he was the only person I let into my office while I was doing my work for the hotel. Charlie had hired me as an all-purpose consultant, letting me work on any projects I wanted, and I dove straight into the advertising/community outreach/PR side of things. My work didn’t typically look like much until I had a completed product to present, so I didn’t like to have people watching my process, and as long as I kept her in the loop Charlie didn’t mind my secretive ways. But Lucifer was a creative mind too. He understood that sitting at my desk apparently doing nothing wasn’t actually nothing, and he let me be.

He was also the only person allowed to put things in my office, but that was only because he felt it was odd that I was a wolf without a pack, -because “Even hellhounds have packs, dear girl! Wolf-demons aren’t that uncommon, you need a family!”- and had started making one for me, a slowly growing pack of rubber ducks with wolf ears and fluffy tails. Every so often I’d find a new one in my office, and each one did something unusual. A pair facing each other on the windowsill had a laser between them that would alert us to intruders, but most were silly things like duck-wolves that could jump and growl, or were actually soap dispensers or changed color with the weather. 

It actually worked out to be a mutually beneficial relationship. We both had a tendency to dive headfirst into our hyperfixations, and when one of us did, the other usually managed to keep them from spiraling too far. He’d comb my hair and fur, and remind me to take breaks. I’d bring him dinner and get him out of his room when he was getting frustrated. One time I even sat in the bathroom taking notes while he talked so he could shower without losing his flow. We weren't exactly romantic, but it was far more emotionally intimate than any romantic relationship I’d ever had. And, with no one else filling that role for either of us, we did end up on the receiving end of a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes. 

And that’s why, when he suddenly just wasn’t at the hotel one morning, I got a bit nervous. And, I’ll be honest, frustrated. I reminded myself that just because we typically spent breakfasts together didn’t mean we had to every day. Just because he’d told me every time he was leaving the hotel for the last few months didn’t mean he was beholden to me. We were friends, but he wasn’t mine and I couldn’t tell him what to do. I had no right or reason to be put off by this unexpected change to my routine. So I ate breakfast alone, went down to my office to work alone, and … couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t focus, everything was just a bit off. I should be able to hear his breathing, see his faint glow out of the corner of my eye, feel his hands in my hair. But I was entirely, soul crushingly, alone. 

I texted him every day for the first week. Then once every few days, which quickly became once a week, but he never responded. He didn’t even look at them. I was starting to think he might be mad at me, but I couldn’t imagine what I could have done to upset him so much. I started working evenings, finding it less uncomfortable to be alone at night, but I had trouble getting much done either way. Charlie started bringing me breakfast in my office when everyone else had dinner. I appreciated that she was making sure I ate, but I was just as worried about her as she was about me. Lucifer hadn’t reached out to her either, and he wasn’t taking her calls, and her calm facade was starting to crack. At least she had Vaggie though. I was just alone.

A month into his disappearance I was working late again. Everyone was in bed, and I was trying to finish up this advertising campaign mock up for Charlie, when I heard the door of the hotel creak open. My ears perked up, and I cracked my office door open, listening carefully. I couldn’t make out who had come to visit. There were footsteps, light and airy but far too heavy to be Lucifer. I sniffed the air, glad for my more animalistic senses, hoping to catch some kind of clue. Friend, or foe? Welcome, or defend? The air smelled … musty, and damp. Something was very off.

I flicked my wrist, extending my claws, and made my way silently down the dark hallway. The intruder stumbled up the stairs, it would be silent to those without acute hearing, but I heard every step. I followed along, trying to visualize where they were from the sounds. They made their way past the elevator and up more flights of stairs, and I tracked along behind them, staying a floor below them to avoid detection. I wanted to know who they were, but I also wanted to know what they were looking for. When they finally made their way down a hallway, I glowered. They were on Charlie’s floor. I waited, listening halfway up the stairs so I could pounce if needed, until I heard them stop at a door. I jumped up, landing a few feet away from the short, trenchcoat clad figure. They jumped, pressing themself against the wall as if they could disappear through it, and dropped … a key?

“... Lucifer?” I whispered.

He turned toward me, a sheepish grin on his face. “... Heeey … I’m home!”

I sighed, scooping up his key and unlocking his door, gesturing for him to go inside. “Don’t wake Charlie.”

He nodded, darting inside. His footfalls were too heavy, he was hunched over a bit, and his back looked bulky under his coat. Something was wrong. He sat awkwardly on the couch, kicking his feet a bit. “Sooo … How’ve you been?”

“How have I been? … Luc, where have you been? … Y- you didn’t call, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, or when you’d be back, you sneak in in the dead of night in whatever that is, you smell like a drowned bird, and you’re walking like an injured dog. And you ask how I’ve been???” A deranged laugh ripped its way out of my throat as I collapsed onto the seat next to him. “... Do you even care that we’ve all been worried sick? … I … you didn’t text me back … You were just … gone.”

He flinched a bit, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “... I .. I’m sorry, puppy … I didn’t mean to scare you. I just … I had something to attend to.”

I sighed softly, letting him take my hand. “What was so important that you couldn’t even tell us you were ok?”

“I … just had to …” He sighed. “Look, it’s kind of embarrassing, ok? I …” He mumbled something, a low whine in the back of his throat masking his words.

“... What was that?”

“I’m molting, ok?” He whined, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m molting, and I can’t comfortably put my wings away until it’s over, and they’re ugly right now! So I just … I thought I’d just go to the manor until it was over. I was only coming back tonight to get my sketchbook so I could work on a project…”

I blinked a bit, trying not to laugh. “... Right. … Just so I’m clear, cause I didn’t really interact with birds on earth. Molting is the one where birds lose a bunch of feathers and get new ones, right?” He nodded. “And it’s a yearly thing?”

He nodded again, “For most birds. Angels get a little one each year, and a big one each decade. It takes forever! It’s … unpleasant. Messy …” He grumbled softly; “humiliating.”

“Humiliating? It’s just part of having wings, isn’t it? How is that humiliating?”

“... You’ve seen my wings, what did you think of them?”

I let out a sigh, thinking. “... They’re bigger than I expected, but that makes sense since you’re not a bird. They’d have to be pretty big to lift you up … unless you’ve got hollow bones and they’re just ostentatious?” I chuckled a bit, hoping to lighten his mood, but it didn’t seem to work. “... They’re beautiful, and they look really soft … You look so majestic when you fly …”

“Exactly. … Beautiful. Majestic. That’s what they’re supposed to be … but when the molt comes they’re … really not that. … Molting is messy, and itchy, and … gross! … I look like a plucked chicken under this coat…” He whined softly, frustrated tears pricking at his eyes as he hid his face in his hands. “And the worst part is that I can’t even rush it along like we did in heaven, because I can’t reach!”

“... Can’t reach? … Do you have to pluck something, or?”

He nodded. “At the end of the molt the new feathers have these keratin sheaths that have to be removed … In heaven we’d get a few trusted angels together and circle up, but I can’t do that here! So I just have to wait for them to peel off on their own!”

I frowned softly, gently stroking his shoulder. He whined softly, looking at me hesitantly. “Lucifer, … I’m sure this is a … sensitive topic, and I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t ask, but … if you wanted to ask, … I would help. And I promise, I wouldn’t judge you for what they look like right now, or talk to anyone else about it, or anything like that … It’s just like when you got that matt out of my fur, that was pretty embarrassing for me, but I couldn’t see it well enough to get it out myself. So you sat down with me, and you took a set of combs, and detangling spray, and a pair of scissors, and you fixed it for me. … You could have just cut it out, but you didn’t. You sat there and meticulously detangled it for hours, and then you trimmed everything so it wouldn’t get bad so easily again. Remember? … I could do the same for you.”

He nodded slowly, sighing softly. “I just … I didn’t want you to see … you don’t understand, they look really bad right now …”

“So did my neck.”

He thought for a moment, sighing before he carefully slipped the ugly beige trench coat off. His wings were pressed firmly against his back, almost trembling. He turned away, letting me get a good look at them. The majority of his flight feathers had already gone through the process, but about half of the fluffy down feathers were still encased, or partially encased, in cylindrical sheaths. I smiled softly, gently stroking down his spine. “It really doesn’t look so bad, Luci. Let’s get comfy, ok? Do you wanna lay down somewhere?”

A shiver went up his spine, and his wings attempted to puff up in response. It did look a bit sad, but I wasn’t gonna tell him that. He was feeling uncomfortable enough as it was. His wings were usually a source of great pride for him, I wasn’t about to make this harder for him. He slowly nodded, and carefully got up. I followed him to his bedroom, a little concerned by how wobbly he seemed.

“... Luc, is the molt really the only thing that’s going on? You seem a bit … off?”

He collapsed onto his bed, pulling a pillow under his chest and crossing his arms under himself. “It’s enough … The little molts take a lot of energy, but the big ones … The big ones really suck … I’ve been in bed pretty much since I left …”

I nodded, sitting next to him. “I see … so, I just start peeling these things off the feathers?”

He nodded. “Gently, please … You can roll them a bit if they resist, but if that doesn’t work move on to the next one. Most of them should be ready though.”

I hummed softly, gently taking the wing in front of me and carefully extending it. He groaned softly, following my movements compliantly. I let the wing rest on my legs and began carefully sliding my fingertips over the little cylinders. Most of the keratin sheaths started to flake and crumble away under my touch, and I carefully rolled the slightly more resistant ones between my fingers. Under my touch, fluffy down and contour feathers began to emerge. I gently brushed the debris away, careful of my claws. I knew I had to do this perfectly; to prove he could trust me with things like this. He wasn’t moving or making any noises though, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.

I worked methodically from the bottom where his wing attached to his back, up and out to the wingtip, periodically brushing the detritus away and stroking his freshly exposed feathers. I finished the right side and got halfway through the wings on the left before I ran into one that started to peel away, but then didn’t want to budge. I was about to move on like he’d told me, but I paused when I heard the first noise Lucifer made since I started touching his wings; a high pitched whine. He squirmed uncomfortably, and his wings ruffled up a bit.

“... Luci? D- did I hurt you?”

“Noooo … I want it off …” He whimpered softly, pressing his face into the pillow. “... C- Can you scratch it a bit? Just a bit!”

I nodded, humming softly my agreement, and carefully ran a claw along the sheath. His high whine returned, but this time it seemed a bit more … pleased? I scratched again, watching little bits of the sheath peel away. After just a little bit more the sheath fell away entirely, releasing its fluffy feather, and Lucifer sighed happily. 

“Ohhh fuck~ … Oh, that’s so much better! Your hands are magic~” He moaned softly, bringing a blush to my cheeks.

I cleared my throat; “... I’m glad you’re liking it, Luc.”

I carefully continued to the tip of his wing. There were only a few that hadn’t been ready to go yet, and his wings were back to their full, shiny, fluffy glory. He sighed happily, but didn’t move to get up, so I just continued to stroke his feathers.

“Ahh~ … Puppy, that’s wonderful~ … But y- … you do know, wings are sensitive, yeah?” He slowly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at me. The heat on his face made me squirm shyly, and I shakily removed my hands.

“S- Sorry … I …” I blushed bright red, scooting backwards. He whined softly, slowly sitting up and facing me.

He shakily reached for my hand, running his thumb over my fingers. “... I wasn’t trying to make you stop. …”

I blushed even more, looking up at him shyly. “... So … should I continue?”

He slowly lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “... Only if you wish to.”

I nodded slowly, shakily pushing him to lay back down. He did, watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I straddled his hips, stroking his wings gently.

“... They’re so beautiful, Luci … You are beautiful …” I was mesmerized, letting my hands trail along the soft feathers. 

He sighed happily, settling under me. “... I cannot believe I let this go on for a full blessed month when I could have had your hands on me this whole time …”

I chuckled softly, continuing to preen him gently. “Never again, yes? You come to me for this, whenever you need it. Or even if you just want it. … You take care of me, and I take care of you.”

“Because we’re an old married couple.” He nodded, yawning softly. “Yes, love, anything wifey wants~”

I blushed brightly, trying desperately to stop the squeak from leaving my mouth. Others had called us a married couple before, mostly to tease us, but we had never said it. “... That’s right, husband. Anything I want.”

He smirked slightly. “Husband … I like the way that word sounds when you say it ... If you’re not careful, I might just make you my wife for real …”

“... And what exactly would ‘being careful’ look like?”

“Oh, you know. Not letting me touch you anymore, keeping me out of your office, making fun of my ducks. … Taking your hands off my wings would definitely count as being careful.”

I chuckled softly, steeling my nerves and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. I whispered against his ear; “sounds like a horrible way to live. I think I’ll take my chances.”

His eyes flew open, looking up at me. A bright red blush spread across his face, and a hesitant smile graced his lips. “... I agree. A horrible way to live.”

He carefully slid out from under me, turning around so I was in his lap instead, and gently cupped my cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb. I leaned into his touch, sighing happily, and he slid his hand up to stroke my fluffy wolf ear. An almost electric feeling shot through me, leaving me gasping, and I hesitantly looked up at him. He smirked slightly, pulling me closer and kissing me softly before he whispered in my ear; “Now don’t give me that look, love~ You’ve been doing it to me this whole time~”

[lieslab]

Cover me

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7.3K

A/N: Major trigger warning because this was a request where SKZ finds out you were sexually assaulted. This is another one of the darkest drabbles I've made so far. Eight different scenarios and multiple trigger warnings are posted before the drabbles like usual.

If you've been through any of this, I am so sorry and it is most certainly not your fault. Please don't blame yourself for the actions of others. To the lovely person who requested this, I hope this can help, at least, a little piece of you <3

_ _ _

Chan:

TW: Sexual assault at work, workplace verbal harassment and assault, heavily implied rape, blood, depression, and self-hatred.

Despite the warning signs, despite how uncomfortable it made you, you didn’t realize it was ever going to go that far. The latest co-worker that your job had just hired. You didn’t think anything of it when you smiled the first time you met him. 

It started with you smiling at him and then him cracking jokes around you. It was all innocent until it wasn’t. One day his hands found your shoulders. You remember how warm they were as he dug his fingers into your flesh. You politely shrugged him off and went about your day. 

After that, it went further. Little things he did here and there that made you uncomfortable, but you refused to speak up because you didn’t want to be told you were being dramatic. You didn’t want to risk escalating the situation. 

He started hanging around your work area more. He waited for you by your car just so he could speak to you before you left. He was always standing too close for comfort. Even if you took another step back, he took another forward. 

Further and further you shrank into yourself. Every time you made yourself smaller, it was a victory in his eyes. Always in your space, hands on your shoulders, he ran his fingers through your hair. Even though you already explained you had a boyfriend, he didn’t respect that, he took it as a challenge. 

The casual comments about liking your accessories and outfits continued until they became verbal harassment. Your eyes went to the floor and shame filled your body when he talked about how well you filled out your jeans, how much he would please you, how much he’d make you happy. 

You changed your shifts to get away and you thought that was enough. It was for a few weeks. It was until he changed shifts too and suddenly you were in the break room defenseless and alone and when you turned around, there he was looking at you like a piece of meat. 

A piece of you died in that break room as you were cornered and taken advantage of. You couldn’t scream due to the shock. Your brain disassociated trying to save you from the heart-shattering reality of what was happening. 

When you came home that night bleeding, you couldn’t look your boyfriend in the eyes. You showered and slipped into your pajamas and pretended like it never happened. You slept all night, you slept for half the day until you awoke and remembered what happened all over again. 

Three days later, you locked yourself in the bathroom and called into work sick once more. You explained that you were down with the flu and it was bad. You rarely missed work unless you were sick, your boss understood and wished you well. 

When you came out of the bathroom, Chan stood with his arms crossed. You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat. It was his day off and he had been sleeping, but he must have woken up when you got out of bed to call into work. 

“Baby, what’s going on? You’re not sick with the flu, but you’ve been down for the past few days.” He walked towards you and gently cupped your cheeks in his hands. 

He had always been like this with you. So gentle and so soft. He never dug into your delicate skin and left bruises. He didn’t take advantage of you when you were alone. He didn’t jerk your body in uncomfortable positions. He didn’t degrade you to the point of tears. Most importantly, he didn’t make you hate yourself. 

You didn’t hate yourself until now. All that time you spent bettering yourself and working on your self-confidence was shattered. It had only been three days, but you couldn’t even imagine how it could get better from here. Your eyes stung and you blinked rapidly trying to hold back the tears. 

“Did something happen at work?” 

That was enough to make your knees collapse. Your throat closed up as Chan rushed to catch you. He managed to catch you by your waist and pulled you towards him. Your arms wrapped around him tightly. You promised yourself you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it, but it was killing you. 

This thing, this secret, it was rotting you from the inside out. You didn’t want everyone to know. You didn’t want their pity and their doleful looks. You didn’t want to deal with the fall out of it all. You’d have to explain over and over and over, but you had to get it out. 

So you blubbered through your tears and sniffled through a snotty nose. Chan’s face fell, but he listened to everything you had to say. His arms tightened around you to pull you closer to him. You clutched onto him like he was the only thing that could keep you afloat through all of this. 

“I-I don’t want to go back,” you admitted through tears. “I can’t deal with him again. What if it happens again?” 

“It’s not going to happen again because I won’t let it. You don’t have to go back there.” He wiped away your tears. “Let’s take this one step at a time, alright?” 

You nodded and choked back another sob. 

“Let’s get some food in your system and we’ll go from there. You don’t have to think about the future right now. Just focus on me. Let me take care of you.” 

You let your head fall into his chest. He placed his chin onto your head. A quiet “thank you” fell from your lips. A sigh left your body and you began to relax. 

“Just rest now, I’ve got you.”

_ _ _

Lee Know:

TW: Sexual assault by a parent and self-hatred.

“Do you really love me?” 

Minho’s question caught you off guard. You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion and turned to look at him. “Is that a joke question? Of course, I love you. Why wouldn’t I? I am dating you, aren’t I?” 

“You won’t meet my parents.” He glanced up from his chair at the bar counter. “Why else won’t you meet them? I’ve asked you like three times if you’ll come with me to meet them and you keep turning down my offer. What am I supposed to think?” 

You tightened your grip on the wooden spoon in your hand. You knew this was coming, but you weren’t expecting it to be today. Your fingers went pale and your heart beat began to pick up. 

You heard it hammering in your ears. The soft pitter-patter had turned into a Friday night football drumline; booming and pounding so loud that it blocked out everything else. You kept your eyes down at the pitcher of lemonade you were making. 

“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, you can tell me. It’ll hurt, but being with me when you don’t want to is only going to hurt each of us more. I can g-” 

“It’s not that,” you finally found your voice. “It’s not that at all. It’s a complicated situation and it’s a lot.” 

“Why don’t you explain it to me then? I’m sure I’ll understand.” Minho set his elbow down on the table and placed his chin in his palm. His boba eyes studied your face. 

You poured another cup of sugar into the pitcher. You kept this buried deep inside of you and rarely told anyone. It was too embarrassing, too shameful, too humiliating. It made you feel sick and unloveable. Thinking about it now caused your stomach to tangle into knots.

“I’m sure your parents are lovely people. You talk about how much you love them. You talk about how much, specifically your mom, takes care of your cats when you’re away. Your parents sound amazing. I’m sure you had incidents with them occasionally, but for the most part, you have a good relationship with them.”  

“And?” 

“My parents were nothing like yours. You talk about how much you appreciate your parents. How loving they treat your cats. How happy they are to support you in your career and all your dreams. Your parents are what parents should be.” 

“I had a parent,” you sucked in a deep breath, “that did things to me that I can never forget. Your parents would never dare do anything like that to me. I know they wouldn’t because I trust you and you trust them. However, I can’t help, but worry that it’ll happen.” 

He pushed himself up and walked towards you. His hand found yours and he gently squeezed it. “My parents aren’t going to yell at you if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“That’s no-” 

“They wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone you.” His other hand cupped the side of your face. Your cheeks went red and he brushed a light thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

You shrugged. Part of you wanted to, but another part wanted it to remain hidden. It was an internal battle that battered back and forth. He gave you a reassuring smile and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Minho?” You finally got out. 

“Hmm?” 

“One of my p-parents,” your voice wobbled, “they sexually assaulted me when I was a child. I didn’t know until I was older, but I…” You trailed off. 

He tugged you into his arms. A hand found your back and he began to rub your back. “I had no idea, so I’m sorry.” 

“No,” you shook your head, “I should be the one apologizing. Your parents want to meet me and I-” 

“Shh.” 

You shut your eyes and went quiet. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll tell them you’re working through some personal stuff and they’ll understand. You don’t have to meet them until you're ready. You can take all the time you need, alright? Don’t worry about meeting them right now.” 

“Thank you.” 

He bent down and kissed the top of your head. His other hand continued rubbing your back. You kept listening to the thrum of his heartbeat. It was the only thing that kept you from breaking down completely.

_ _ _

Changbin:

TW: Mentions of sexual assault by a female friend, underage drinking, blacking out, and paranoia around women.

“I can’t believe you bought so many clothes,” you teased and jabbed a light elbow into Changbin’s side. 

“They’re not just clothes! They’re athletic wear and they’re all my size. Imagine how good those compression shirts are going to make me look when I lift in them. They’re going to make me look hot.” 

“You already look hot.” 

“They’ll show off my muscles and I’ll look even hotter.” 

The two of you were side-by-side in a mall heading towards the exit. Changbin wanted to do some shopping and you offered to tag along. The two of you went from store to store until Changbin finally found the shirts he wanted. 

“We probably could have started in the sporting store to begin with.” 

“Yeah, but what fun is that? We wouldn’t have been able to look at everything.” He reached down and locked a hand around yours. “It was nice to look around and get some steps in.” 

The two of you continued talking until you were near the exit. A large group of teenage girls were streaming inside laughing with each other. One of them was widely gesturing and screwing around. 

You stopped in your tracks which caused Changbin to pause too. He glanced back over his shoulder at you. “Are you okay?” A frown sat on his face. 

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah, I just-”  You dropped his hand and walked behind him, so you were on the other side. He shifted his bags into the other hand. Your hand went back into his. “That’s better.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’re scared of a bunch of teenage girls? That seems a little silly.”  

You shrugged not wanting to talk about it. They walked past the two of you not even batting an eye. He tugged you outside and continued to talk about his most recent purchases. 

When you two got to his car, you opened up the passenger door and climbed inside. You buckled and stayed quiet. Your gaze went out the window and it stayed there while the two of you headed home. The ride was silent and uncomfortable after a while. 

Changbin shifted in his seat and sighed. “Are you mad at me because I teased you in the mall? I was just screwing around. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

“It’s whatever,” you mumbled.  

“Can you, at least, tell me why you have a thing against women? Whenever we’re somewhere and you see a few, you kinda freak out. Do you hate them or something?” 

Your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs. You shut your eyes before you sucked in a deep breath and spoke. “I guess I’m a victim of the past. I know I should get over it because it’s been a while, but it still haunts me.” 

Changbin frowned and kept his eyes on the road. “What do you mean? Did something happen?” 

“I don’t want to ruin the mood. It’s not a big deal.” You pushed your forehead up against the cool glass of the passenger window. “It’s just one of the reasons why I am the way I am,” you shrugged. 

“Okay, now you have to tell me.” 

You remained quiet for a while before you pulled back. Your head rested against the back of the leather seat. Your eyes shut for a few moments until you spoke. 

“Back when I was in high school, I was friends with a girl. The two of us were close and we had a good friendship. I mean, at least, I thought we did until we went to a party together and I got drunk.” 

Changbin stayed silent listening to the story. 

“It was high school and stupid. We were underage and had alcohol as minors. It was the first time I drank and I trusted her because I was with her. She was barely drinking, but I was drinking a lot. I ended up getting so drunk, I blacked out.” 

“Oh?” 

“When I woke up, I woke up to her sexually assaulting me.” 

“Oh,” Changbin’s face fell. 

“I know I shouldn’t think every woman I come across is going to hurt me, but it haunts me. It’s stupid, I know, but I-” 

“It’s not stupid. Someone you trusted took advantage of you. If guys assault people and women become scared of them, the opposite can happen too. Just because it was a woman, it doesn’t mean you can’t be nervous around them.” 

You slowly nodded and reopened your eyes. Your hands folded over each other on your lap. You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced back outside. The scenery was a great distraction for your sudden confession. 

“I’m sorry I teased you in the mall. I just thought you were afraid of teenagers. I didn’t know you had a valid reason for it. It won’t happen again.” 

“It’s alright, I should learn to get over it anyway.” 

“What you went through was rough. That’s not something you can just forget about.” He leaned an opened hand towards you. You let your hand fall into his and wrapped your fingers around his. “Healing can be a challenging thing.” 

“Thank you for not making fun of me after speaking about it.” 

“Now why would I do that? Has that happened before?” His eyebrows pinched together. “What a bunch of assholes. We’re going to get ice cream and it’s my treat. No meanies allowed.”

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Sexual assault by a teacher, sexual grooming, self-hatred, and paranoia around teachers/academic professors.

Hyunjin leaned over the back of the couch staring at you. His head rested on his folded arms. You rambled about the job you hated once again. Once you graduated high school, you opted not to go to college. So far, you hadn't found anything you liked. 

Customer service made you want to gouge out your eyes. If one more person was snarky to you, you were considering punching them or quitting. Maybe even both at this point. You were fed up with being disrespected. 

Hyunjin listened quietly to your ramble until you finished with a sigh. He perked his head up and stared at you. “You do know what I’m going to tell you, right?” 

“Don’t say it,” you mumbled. 

“Why don’t you go to college? You have so many interests and you’d be good at any of them. You could take out loans, yeah, but you could also apply for scholarships.” He flopped himself over the back of the couch. “You’re intelligent and talented, you could make it.” 

You groaned and put your head in your hands. “I’ve already told you I don’t want to do that,” you grumbled. 

“You’re right, but you’ve never explained why exactly. Seriously, why don’t you want to go? You were good in school and you always like to be challenged. Are you worried you won’t be good at it? I know you’re competitive, but you don’t have to be the best in the class.” 

“Because I just don’t!” You snapped, feeling defensive and annoyed. “Stop trying to peer pressure me into doing something I don’t want to do!” 

“But why don’t you? You could have a career in a field you love and I-” 

“Because I don’t want to be groomed by a teacher again!” You spat. His eyes widened and you instantly slammed a hand over your mouth. The two of you stared at each other before you pulled your hand away. “Pretend I didn’t say that.” 

He shoved himself up. “You can’t just say that and not explain. What happened when you were younger? Were you really groomed?” 

“It was a long time ago,” you weakly got out. “It was high school and I was so naive. He was older and attractive and I liked that attention. I really thought he cared about me.” 

“How long did this go on for?” 

“About a year and a half until a student snitched because they caught us being intimate in the classroom.” Shame filled you and you dropped your head. “It was humiliating to live through that. The news spread like wildfire and everyone found out. The teachers, the students, the parents, and even surrounding schools.” 

Hyunjin frowned. 

“I don’t want to go through it again,” you managed to get out. “It was shameful and humiliating. It was the worst time period of my life. My parents forced me to testify against him in court and-” Tears filled your eyes. “I used to think I really loved him until I got older and realized what was happening.” 

 “And now you’re worried it’ll happen again if you go to college?” 

You weakly nodded your head and sniffled. Using the back of your hand, you wiped snot from your nose. Hyunjin got up and walked over to you. Ignoring your waterworks and snot, he wrapped his arms around you. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“I want to go to college, but the idea makes me nervous. I know I’d be good at it. I know I could make it work out. I just don’t want to be groomed again.” 

“Have you ever considered online college? You’d have professors, but it’d be online. You wouldn’t have to deal with seeing them in person.” 

“I guess I haven’t really thought about that option.” 

“If you want to look into it more, I’ll help you. Try not to peer pressure yourself too much.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on your forehead. “Take all the time you need. I’ll always be here if you need to talk more.” 

_ _ _

Han:

TW: Child-on-child sexual assault by a female cousin, child pornography, grief, and resentment.

“And I tried to tell him that he looked like an idiot, but I-” Han leaned forward and waved his hand in front of your face. “Hey, are you listening to me?” 

You pulled your eyes from the two younger kids across the way. The two of them were playing in the interior playground built into the fast food place. You forced your eyes to go back to Han. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

“I was trying to say that Changbin was lo-” 

You zoned out again. Your eyes went back over to the two kids. They looked happy chasing each other around the colorful tubes. One scrambled and dived into the inside of the tube. The other rushed after them. Their giggles were loud and reached your table. 

Realizing you weren’t paying attention again, Han glanced over his shoulder to see what you were looking at. Their parents were talking and sitting down at a table nearby, so they could keep an eye on them. 

“Do you know them?” Han asked. His eyes went to your face again. 

You shook your head and forced your eyes back to the table. You picked up a french fry and put it into your mouth. The fries, you previously had been enjoying, now made your stomach churn. You forced yourself to swallow it and took a sip of your drink. 

Han glanced back over his shoulder before he looked at you with a frown. “What was that about? Are you sure you don’t know them? You look almost sad.” 

“I just miss childhood, I guess.” 

Your reasoning was pathetic and Han wasn’t sure he believed you. He closed the lid on his burger box. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

You nodded and stood up. Your food was only half eaten, but the idea of consuming anymore of it made you nauseous. The two of you cleaned up your stuff and placed it back into the bag it came in. Han rolled it down and carried it. He let you lead the way out of the building. 

The salty fries and grease from hamburgers was replaced with fresh air. You sucked in a mouthful and closed your eyes. The sun was setting and Han slipped his hand in yours. He tugged you across the parking lot and back towards your apartment. 

The two of you were quiet on the sidewalk until Han spoke up again. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever that was? It looked like it really upset you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” 

“I know.” 

He stayed quiet and continued walking with you. His hand sent a reassuring squeeze to yours. You stayed quiet for a while until you broke the silence. “Do you ever feel guilty for things that happened during childhood?” 

“Like for things I did when I was a kid? Sure. I had an older brother, so I did a fair amount of stealing and pissing off my parents.” He shrugged and chuckled. “That’s just how some kids are, I suppose.” 

“Not like that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You glanced around making sure the two of you were alone. Once the coast was clear, you spoke again. “I lied when I told you I never had a cousin.” 

“You…you lied about your cousin?” 

“It’s a sensitive topic. She’s a few years older than me and she meant everything to me when I was a kid. She was like the older sister that I never had. She was everything I wanted to be.” 

Han listened in silence. 

“There was a day when everything went wrong. She was babysitting me like she did before. My parents paid her to babysit me and she wanted to play a game that involved us taking our clothes off.” 

He frowned, “oh no.” 

“If you have an idea of where you think this is going, you’re correct. Things escalated to touching and then she took photos. We were both minors at the time, but…” You trailed off. “I’ve been to a therapist before. She says that qualifies as sexual assault, but my cousin was just a kid too.” 

“Did this go on for a while?” 

“Months until her parents found the photos she took of me on her phone. I don’t really know what happened after that. She stopped coming over and her parents moved away. We’re still related, but neither one of us has ever reached out to each other.” 

“That sounds awful. I’m sorry that happened to you.” He squeezed your hand once more. “So when you were looking at those kids…” 

“They reminded me of my cousin and I before things went wrong. We were happy and we also played our fair share of tag. Sorry for ruining our dinner together. I wasn’t trying to destroy the mood.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

“Han?” Your voice wavered a little. 

“Hmm?” 

“Is it wrong to still be angry?” Your words came out in a whisper. “Is it wrong to hate her even though we were both kids? Is it wrong to be upset years later?” 

“It’ll never be wrong.” He paused, let go of your hand, and turned to face you. “You went through something really difficult with someone you trusted. It seems like there’s a lot of hurt still trapped inside and it’s a tender subject.” 

“I think she was a victim too.” Tears filled your eyes. “I think she learned it from somewhere. I think someone was doing it to her. I should have spoken up and helped her sooner.” 

“But you were just a kid too. You didn’t know. Even if that did happen and you think that now, you don’t know for sure. That doesn’t take away from what happened to you. You still went through something life-changing and heart breaking. You deserve to be able to grieve too.” 

In the middle of the sidewalk, grief washed over you. In the middle of sweetened cherry blossom trees and the whiff of burger grease. Grief punched you in the gut and squeezed your heart. 

The guilt for not speaking up. The anger for being hurt to begin with. The sadness for the innocence loss. The betrayal of being hurt by someone, a family member, you looked up to. 

Han leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you. He squeezed the bag of food tighter in his hand. “I’m so sorry.” He stayed there for quite a while just holding you and letting you sit with all your emotions. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled with watery eyes as you pulled away. 

He slipped his hand back into yours. “Let’s go home and find something to do. While we’re heading there, let me tell you about this ugly jacket that Changbin bought the other day.” 

Felix:

TW: Sexual assault by a stranger, social anxiety, and paranoia.

Social anxiety was hard. Outside in public, people were minding their own business. In reality, everyone was too caught up in their own worlds to focus on you. However, your brain was sure everyone was against you. Whenever someone glanced your way, you were convinced they were judging you and planning your demise. Every laugh that people shared, they were laughing at you. 

It was a difficult thing to live with, but ever since you got to know Felix, you were prepared to try and battle it. He lived his life courageously. He wasn’t afraid to venture out into the world and ask questions. He didn’t have a fear like you did. 

So when you decided to get groceries alone on a Saturday morning and reject his help, he was shocked, but he believed in you. He woke up early and was sure to text you a motivational message. He stayed glued to his phone just in case you needed him. 

You were nervous walking into the store. Every little thing had you on edge, but you were determined to do this. Exposure therapy was apparently a helpful way to help with anxiety. The more you did it, the more comfortable and relaxed you’d become with it. 

You paid close attention to your list and made sure to double, even triple, check the list to make sure you had the right items. You marked everything off and made your ways through the aisles. It was still pretty early and the store was a lot less crowded than usual. 

You were just starting to relax after passing a few customers. You held your breath each time worried that they’d say something demeaning or rude, but they never did. You were finally starting to make real progress until you felt someone’s eyes on your back. 

The hair on the back of your neck pricked up. You rounded the next aisle, glanced over your shoulder, and discovered a man standing a few feet back. His eyes were directly on yours. You ignored him and ventured on trying not to worry. 

The further you moved, the closer he got. Closer and closer and closer. You shifted yourself. You pulled out your phone and hoped he’d go away. You lingered in the pasta section hoping he’d lose interest, but he stayed there observing. 

You were almost finished when you felt something touch your back. You stiffened with your hands curling around the cart handle until your fingers went white. The unwanted hand drifted down your lower back and continued straight down. 

You didn’t know what to say. Your brain short-circuited and you panicked. The man laughed and you felt his breath on your neck. You suddenly took off as fear shot through you. You left the cart, clutched your list, and ran as fast as you could to the restrooms. 

Too afraid he’d follow you, you slipped into the disabled restroom and pulled out your phone. Tears filled your eyes and, after making sure the door was locked, you backed up. You found Felix’s number and pressed the call button. 

Felix picked up on the third ring. Before he could get out a proper greeting, he was met with the sound of your sob. You begged him to come quickly because you were scared. He tried to calm you down as best as he could. 

He didn’t understand what was fully happening. You couldn’t explain much through your cries. You felt disgusting knowing that you had just been groped by a stranger. All you wanted to do was get your groceries and go home. 

It took a total of fifteen minutes before Felix finally announced he was outside the bathroom. You pulled the door open and he stared at you with a concerned face. You launched yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“What happened?” He questioned as he put his phone away. 

“S-Some guy, h-he just-” You hiccuped. Your throat constricted and you struggled to explain. 

Instantly, he was pissed after your blubbering explanation. He stayed directly by your side as he helped you report the man to the manager. Once another employee located the man, the police were called. The cameras matched what you reported. 

Felix refused to leave your side and didn’t let go of your hand once. He was sure to reassure you that it wasn’t your fault and you did the right thing by reporting it. It made you feel awful, but you were glad he was arrested for his actions. 

“And if you need me,” Felix continued once more, “call me.” 

“But what if you’re on tour in another country?” 

“I’m Australian. Do you really think an ocean will stop me? I’ve practically been training since birth. Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, “I’ll swim across it.” 

Despite your messy state, you chuckled and sniffled. You wiped the remaining tears off your cheeks. “I don’t think you understand how big oceans are.” 

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll do anything for you.” 

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Sexual assault by a religious leader, religious trauma, anger, guilt, and grief.

“How hot do you think hell is?” Seungmin asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you think people attempt to steal the gold from the roads in heaven?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Do you think heaven and hell actually exist?” 

You puckered your lips and forced yourself to keep your composure. “I don’t know. Why does it matter anyway? Whatever happens will happen. I don’t really want to consider burning for all eternity.” 

“Would you rather be reincarnated? I think that’d be fun. I want to come back as Changbin.” 

You hummed without really responding and went back to drinking your mug of coffee. You sipped the bitter drink debating if you should add more sugar or not. You licked your lips and decided to add another spoonful into the warm mug. 

“Didn’t you grow up religious?” Seungmin continued. “You grew up religious and you have no opinion on heaven or hell? What’s up with that?” 

“Do we have to keep talking about this? I’d rather not.” Your grip tightened around your mug. Religion was a sore subject when it came to you. “Why don’t we talk about something else more important?” 

Seungmin narrowed his eyes and scanned you up and down. “Something happened with you and religion, didn’t it? You’re bitter and angry about it now.” 

You slammed the mug down onto the counter. Steaming coffee sloshed over the side and drizzled onto your hand. “Of course, I’m fucking angry about it. You’d be pissed off too if your youth pastor sexually assaulted you and when people fucking found out out about it, they claimed he’d never do that because he’s a man of god.” 

“And then,” you continued angrily, “some people do believe you and you’re told to forgive him because that’s what God would want. Do you know how fucked up that is? Well, you should just pray and spend some time with God,” you mocked in a high pitched voice. 

“I was a teenager! My youth pastor was holding one-on-one sessions with me after church and you know what he told my mom? He told her that we were studying the bible. All he was doing was studying my goddamn body supposedly in the name of God!” 

Seungmin stared at you in shock. He knew religion was a tender subject, but he never knew why. You mentioned in passing that you were once religious. He was just asking genuine questions. Sure they were stupid, but he meant them light-heartedly. He thought it’d lead to a deeper conversation, not this. 

“I-” 

“Shut up!” You snapped. “I don’t want your pity, just fucking save it.” You stood up, stormed out of the kitchen, and walked into the bedroom. Leaving Seungmin bewildered, you slammed the door shut and threw yourself in the bed. 

You wasted no time curling the blanket over your head and cocooning beneath it. Tears flooded your eyes and you sniffled. You slung an arm across your face to wipe the salted tears away. 

Whispers of people from the past taunted you. Forgive and forget. All part of God’s big plan. That never happened. The thoughts circled, swarmed, and stung you like bees. 

As you grew up, you felt guilty about the whole thing. You were always forced to feel bad about it when it came to light. You ruined a godly man. You destroyed his reputation and when he ended up in jail, it was your fault too. 

The past constricted around your heart and squeezed. You struggled to breathe. The scabbed wound was ripped off once again and you were bleeding everywhere. Too in your head, you didn’t hear the door creak open. 

Seungmin crept inside, shut the door behind him, and whispered your name. A sob escaped your lips. He walked over, pulled the blanket off your head, and slipped into the bed beside you. His arms wrapped around your body and he tugged you close. 

You buried your head in his chest while you cried. He gently let his fingers trace invisible shapes on your back until you calmed down. It took a while and when you stopped, he began to speak. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anything like that happened to you. I won’t bring anything like that up again. You didn’t deserve to have that happen to you.” 

“Do you think,” you sucked in a shaky breath, “it was really part of God’s plan? Do you think…” Your voice wobbled and you trailed off. 

“No. I don’t know what I believe, but I don’t think some higher power would want you to go through that. I don’t think it was a blessing in disguise to find some bigger meaning in life. I think it was a horrible and terrible thing that happened to you.” 

“You don’t have to believe in anything you don’t want to. Whatever religion or spiritual thing you want to believe in, you’re allowed to. I think sometimes people are assholes and everyone is responsible for their own actions at the end of the day. People love to blame the devil or God or whoever to avoid taking accountability. It’s an easy way to try and sneak out of the consequences.” 

You stayed quiet listening to him. His hand began to rub up and down on your back. His other hand played with the ends of your hair. “I think you’re a victim and I can’t even imagine how much you’ve gone through and dealt with. You’re incredibly strong an-” 

“I’m not strong,” you whimpered. “I’m pathetic and worthless. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror without still feeling sick.” 

Seungmin clutched you tighter. “You’re not pathetic and worthless. You’re beautiful and I hate that you view yourself like that. Did that dickhead get put in prison?”

You managed to nod. 

“Well, thank fuck. If I was a God, I’d strike him down with a bolt of lightning. See how he likes that and then when he’s in pain, I’d tell him it was part of God’s plan when his dick was shriveling and burnt and falling off.” 

You couldn’t stop your snort. 

“You think I’m kidding? He better watch his back. He has no idea what I’m capable of.” 

“You’re not a God,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, yeah? Where’s your proof, huh? I’ve got devoted followers that happily worship me. They sing me praises and offer me offerings. I could be a God and I could start a cult. I’d be an amazing cult leader.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s your first order of business then?” You shifted and wiped away a few tears. 

“Pft, that’s easy. I’d make everyone start barking at Han.” 

“Why would yo-” 

“I just think it’d be funny to see him look confused and terrified as thousands of people randomly started to bark at him.” 

“You’re a menace,” you mumbled. 

“And Han’s worst nightmare. This is my revenge for the time he chucked a wallet at my head. He better think twice before crossing me again.” 

_ _ _

I.N:

TW: Sexual assault by a police officer, abuse of power, paranoia around cops, unresolved trauma, and grief.

“Oh, shit.” Jeongin mumbled as he shifted his foot and eased on the break. He hadn’t seen the cop nearby and he was going over the speed limit. 

Catching a glimpse of the cop car behind you in the side mirror, you gulped. You adjusted your eyes and placed them on the car in front of the two of you. Your fingers fiddled with each other and your anxiety began to pick up. 

Jeongin turned on his turn signal and the cop followed which only made your anxiety increase. You sucked in a shaky breath and dug your nails into your thighs. Jeongin glanced over at you and frowned. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded your head and stayed silent. He continued driving down the road. After a few more roads, the cop turned down a side street and you sucked in a deep breath. Your eyes shut and you tried to relax despite the quickened thudding of your heart. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeongin asked. “You seem really worked up. Have you ever had an incident with a cop before?” 

“Once,” you muttered and turned your attention out the window. 

“Ah, speeding ticket? That seems to be the most common thing.” 

“Something like that.” 

He paused for a moment taking in your words. “Was it not a speeding ticket?” 

“They actually thought I was a suspect they were looking for. I matched the basic description, so I was pulled over and forced to get out of my car. I was handcuffed and everything, but then…” You trailed off not finishing your sentence. “Never mind,” you shook your head. “It was a few years ago and doesn’t really matter.” 

“You can’t leave me hanging like that. What happened next? Did they actually arrest you until they figured out they fucked up or something?” 

“They had me cuffed and with an officer for a while until they called for backup. They searched my car and had my identification card. They were trying to figure out the actual suspect’s name.” 

“I bet that was awful to go through.” 

“Mmhm.” You blinked rapidly trying to not let your tears fall. If they fell, you’d have to explain everything and you didn’t want to. 

Jeongin was Jeongin. When he realized you were super quiet, he glanced over to check on you and caught you wiping away tears. “What happened?” He frowned. “Were you actually taken to jail?” 

“I don’t thi-” 

“Please, I want to know.” 

You sucked in a shaky breath. You had never told anyone what really happened. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t think you’ll believe me,” you got out weakly. “They were a cop and I’m just a regular citizen.” 

“Did they do something to you?” 

“The cop that was gripping me and making sure I wasn’t going anywhere, they groped me. I tried to get away, but they kept yelling at me and the other cops were searching my car and-” More tears spilled down your cheeks. “Sorry for crying.” 

“It’s alright, you’re allowed to cry.” He continued to drive, but kept glancing over at you. “What happened after that?” 

“They let me go with a weak apology after they realized they misidentified me. They uncuffed me and let me go home. That was the end of it.” 

“But the cop that assaulted you, h-” 

“Nobody saw it happen. If I would have spoken up about it, it would have made things worse. I was terrified that I’d end up going to jail and I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be left alone. Ever since then, I’ve hated cops.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. I could have spoken up, but what do you do when someone is in a position of power over you? When they have friends and they’re protected and surrounded by people,” you shrugged and let out a weak laugh. “I should just get over it. It’s not like anything is going to change. Life goes on and they keep their job.” 

“But they assaul-” 

“The world doesn’t work like that,” you shook your head. “There were no cameras in the area. The other officers weren’t paying attention. There were no witnesses, it was just them and me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he got out again. The thought of you being so vulnerable and terrified made his heart hurt. He blinked back his own tears. “That never should have happened to you.” 

“It’s whatever. It happened and it’s over.” You attempted to downplay the situation, but he could see right through you. 

“You’re allowed to grieve and be hurt. You’re allowed to be upset and angry. You can be sad too if you want to.” 

“I know.” More tears brimmed your eyes. “It’s not fair that I have to deal with all the effects and they go on with their life like nothing happened. It’s why I believe in karma. I have to believe that someday they’ll get what’s coming to them. If I don’t believe in that, it’ll destroy me.” 

After a few more moments of silence, Jeongin spoke up again. “Do you maybe want to go to an arcade and get your mind off it? I’ll pay for your stuff. We can play whack-a-mole and pretend we’re beating the shit out of the officer. I think it’d be a great way to relieve some stress.” 

“Can we get food while we’re there?” 

“Well, duh.” 

You laughed and wiped away some of your tears. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go beat up some moles.”

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @s3ungmins

Masterlist

[pr3ttyp1nkvrse]

my persistence journey whilst in school. i am living breathing proof that ur persistence is ur method .. 8.25

since may i had applied for housing through my school. it had a waitlist, if my number was not called or chosen i would be left with no housing, and unfortunately it is a lot to handle paying rent and expenses for school all at the same time, i am an out of state student to add insult to injury lol. i still applied, and enrolled in classes for the next semester though (current)

i told everyone how horrible i felt about being in school though due to going through a major loss in my family.

i began to wallow in my sadness.. becoming so depressed. when i say i had nothing, i had NOTHING. then one day it rained while i was at work, nasty muddy i was so annoyed i got rained on at work and then .. i am not joking, i saw a double rainbow.. i looked at all the small things i had for the simple fact the sight of the rainbow was so beautiful.

a job, runnin water, a bed to sleep in, a phone to call, amazing followers on tumblr that were in the same persisting phase as me..

i started living for these things. i put my heart into everything, i became so mentally well put together i was ready for the school year even in the summer i started being active on my blog and all …

but then

i never heard anything back from my school. all my friends were getting housing assignments left and right and little ole me was getting NADA.. no emails, no calls from the school. i then called my school and they told me basically, i needed 12k more to attend my school. mind you, no housing already, and they began to drop me from all my classes. this began to become a distraction within my journey. i thought back to my original thoughts of how i spoke not going back into existence by living in negativity, so i really let this situation take a bigger toll on me believing i was gonna find a solution.

but yk what else ? i began to type on this very blog. i told yall, and i told myself I HAVE EVERYTHING. even when i looked at 3D .. and didn’t see anything.. only obstacles. i began to think well … what DO i have to get me out of this?

i have my mind .. i have ME!!

i missed the first week of classes and decided, this will not be the year i quit at ANYTHING. especially my DREAMS!! why would i ? because i went through something? news flash WE ALL DO! ITS THE CYCLE OF LIFE.

i marched to my school that same week, little 2 hour flight. thinking, they gonna have to give me something not because i deserve it and want this but because I SAID SO. I SAID I CAN SO I WILL! i cleared my mind though.. i never one time thought of what it was gonna look like if this situation did not work out for me in the best way.

long story short. i went back and forth between multiple buildings for three hours for them to tell me what they told me from the start. but i wasn’t compromising with that story. i sat in the financial aid office, as the worker is infront of me checking everything imagining a miracle .. visualizing them handing me my keys.

and sure enough. he told me they made a mistake on their end this entire time, i recieved the best on campus housing assignment! and that’s not by my standards, i genuinely got the best place everyone hopes to get. i didn’t think of the large pool of students my school had, seeing as one person coulda easily filled my spot.

i learned that

1. the tongue is POWER.

2. when i have nothing, that’s not true, i have ME.

3. don’t just persist, don’t take no for an answer and RUN for what your after. don’t just ask or hope for it!

4. you don’t have to be the happiest person in the world, but it helps to be positive when all you have is your mind, body, and soul.

5. be strong. don’t give up .. even when i was in a situation where i had to sit out from classes, abruptly get up and travel but i STILL believed there had to be something for me .. no crumbs .. a full meal covered in aluminum foil that i simply had to wrap off.

you got this. and i am PROUD at how far we’ve come TOGETHER. the universe is working for them, me, you, us.

-biggest B, senior year <3

also.. thank you all for the reblogs. it’s not many, but i know my post are reaching some and that means the world to me. i hope i’ve impacted you all in some way. even if small.

[aritsukemo]

S/o who tends to skip meals | Multiple Characters

Characters: Sunny, Basil, Aubrey, and Hero

Warnings: Depictions of possible eating disorders. Reader shows symptoms of depression ( Sunny and Basil ). Reader purposefully starves themself ( Aubrey ). Stressed out reader ahead ( Hero ). With all that said, read at your own risk!

A/N: Thought I'd post something Omori related while I was in school. This particular scenario has been in my drafts for over a year ( so bare with me if the writing sucks more ass than usual ) and I was never able to finish it over on Wattpad so I thought, "Why not just post the completed ones over here?". Also I must, again, apologize for the writing. I wrote this when I wasn't in the best headspace so it's probably blander than usual- 😅

Sunny stares at your retreating form with a frown on his face. This is the—what? Fourth time this week that you've skipped out on your lunch? He knows this not because you've told him ( You'd never tell him about something like this ) but because of his own observations.

At first, he thought you simply didn't want what was served to you that day or something, but after today, seeing you reject one of your favorite meals, he knew something had to be up.

And so, he grabbed your plate and followed after you.

 "Uhm..Sunny, why are you following me?" You asked, now sitting down on the steps that led up to your front door, as you looked back at him. Sunny doesn't answer you and instead walks up to you, sits down beside you, and silently offers you your plate full of food that you hadn't eaten.

 "Oh, that's why.." You eye the large serving of food with a look of discomfort that you try your best to hide. Even with it's pleasant-smelling aroma, you have no will to eat. To be completely honest, you barely had the energy to come sit out here—hell, you barely even got out of bed and got dressed this morning.

 "I'll eat it later," You finally say, "I had a big breakfast this morning." A lie. In actuality you didn't eat anything for breakfast this morning. You don't know why, you just..simply didn't have the appetite for it.

Sunny continues to stare at you in silence, his face baring the neutral expression you had grown used to. He still holds the plate up to you despite your rejection which makes you look away. After a moment, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn back to look at him only to see him holding the utensil with a small piece of food hanging off the edge of it.

 "Thanks Sunny, but really, I'm not hungry. I'll just eat later." You say and to your surprise, he replies back in a small voice.

 "Please.." He mumbles, "Can you eat a little bit of this?"

Sunny always preferred to stay quiet and let others—mostly Kel—speak for him. It was a habit that took time for you to grow used to and now that you have, it sounds odd hearing your voice..

 "I'm not hungry.." You push but he doesn't listen, still holding the small portion of food up to your lips, waiting for you to open your mouth and consume it.

 "Please eat," He says and you end up sighing. If it were literally anyone else in the world, you would tell them no again and probably leave to avoid further conversation but since it's Sunny asking- No, pleading with you right now to eat just a few spoonfuls of food, you find it hard to refuse him..

 "Alright, fine. For you, I guess.." You say in an almost defeated tone, "But only a little. I'm not eating it all.."

With a nod of his head, Sunny quickly shoves the small amount of food into your mouth before scooping up another miniscule portion and repeating the step again, and again, and again until a quarter of the food was gone from the plate.

Huh, guess you were a little hungry after all..

"How could this have happened?" Is what you thought as you gazed at your knees which were slick from your tears.

You had just seen them not too long ago. You were just laughing, joking with them about dumb stuff you did as kids and ranting to them about everything that you've been going through recently and now, they're gone. It was hard to believe but unfortunately it was true. If the phone call from your best friend—who's voice was hoarse from crying—about the entire thing wasn't enough proof of that.

They were dead. You didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to them one last time. No one did..

A light knock sounds through your room. You just barely heard it. As you wipe your tears, you mumble a small 'come in' and the door cracks open just enough for Basil to slip in.

 "Hey.." He whispers, a sad look pasted on his face. You glance over at him, but fail to greet him back. You can't. If you tried, it probably wouldn't be coherent anyway..

Basil walks over to where you sit on the floor near your bed and sits just a bit away from you. You don't glance at him this time.

 "..I'm sorry for your loss.." He finally says. Maybe those weren't the best words to say, but that was the only comforting thing he could think of. I mean, it was better than saying nothing, right? Hopefully it was.. If not, Basil might just crawl into a hole and suffocate..

 "Uhm.. I don't know if this is related, but I noticed you haven't been eating as much as you usually do.. Not that I'm saying you eat a lot! You just normally eat more than the amount you've been eating which is..practically nothing.. But that's not important right now. I mean it is but.." Basil sighs.

Why was talking so difficult?

 "I.." Basil snaps over to look at you, who's eyes were glossed over with tears despite your best efforts to hide them. You hated burdening people, Basil especially. He already had so much to deal with after all, you wouldn't want to add onto his list of problems..

 "I'm.. I'm fine, Basil.." You murmur, your voice sounding a bit strained as you swallowed the sobs that threatened to slip from your lips. Basil's frown deepens at the sight.

 "You don't have to lie..or hide it. I can tell how sad you are.. U- Understandably so, if someone I cared about died I'd probably.." He pauses for a moment before mumbling out a small 'nevermind' under his breath.

"I know you're grieving, but you shouldn't.." He pauses again, "..I guess what I'm trying to say is.. Although you're really sad and you feel like nothing matters right now, you should still try to take care of yourself. If you don't, the feeling will only get worse and your health will go down the drain too.."

 "Of course, I can't force you to take care of yourself or anything, but if you can at least start eating again—"

 "I.. I get it," You interrupt, "And I know you're worried. I just..need some time."

Basil nods his head, "I get that, take as much time as you need. B- But not too much time, you can't go long without food.."

"You need to stop doing this," Aubrey grumbled as she attempted to hand you a plate of pizza only for you to glare at her.

"Eat," She says firmly after a while of silence, but you make no attempt to grab the plate of pizza. Irritation begins to bubble at the back of Aubrey's throat, but she swallows it back as best she can. She's been trying to work on controlling her anger lately since you aren't fond of such negative energy.

..Plus, it wouldn't be a good idea to shove this pizza slice down your throat, now would it?

A few days ago, you had gotten into a really bad fight with a family member. Arguments surfaced often in your family, but you're usually able to brush it off. This time, however, was different. Aubrey doesn't know what happened and you've refused to tell her the details. All she knows is that whatever it was, it made you so angry that you couldn't get over it and ended up losing your appetite for a couple days.

She found it rather dumb and backwards to starve yourself because you were mad, but Aubrey shouldn't be one to talk when she thinks back on all of the things she's done in the past due to the simple fact that she was upset..

"This is stupid," She ends up saying anyways, "You shouldn't take your anger out on your body because you're pissed off."

At this point you weren't even listening to her, looking back down at the page of the book you were reading as you made it obvious that you were tuning her out. The sight made Aubrey's blood boil.

"Eat the dang slice already before I make you," She threatens, but even then, you heed her no mind and continue with what you're doing.

Agh! Why were you being so difficult right now? She's actually trying to be a gentle and thoughtful girlfriend for once and you're acting like some brat! Why she outta—!

"I appreciate your concern for me, Aubrey, but I'm really not hungry right now," You flip to the next page of your book, a brief flap being heard as a result, "You can leave the plate with me and leave. I'll eat it eventually."

"I- I'm not worry about you!" Aubrey blurts out without thought, her face growing hot.

"Wow, tell me how you really feel."

"Wait! Th- That's not.. I didn't mean to, I.." Why was she getting so embarrassed over this? It's obvious that she cares, I mean, she wouldn't be here otherwise. Why couldn't she just agree with what you said and left? Or better yet, not said anything at all..

She mentally sighs. She really has to work on verbalizing her feelings more like you said..

"Ugh, whatever.. The fact is, I'm not leaving until you eat something.." She ends up grumbling out.

"Well what are you going to do until then. I'm telling you now that I won't be eating anytime.." As you glanced up from your novel, ready to solidify your point by shooting her another glare, you watched on in shock as Aubrey crawled onto your bed and up to you.

"..soon," You're finally able to finish once Aubrey settles herself beside you. You stare at her for a while with an unreasonable expression, simply trying to make sense of her actions before you finally ask, "Uhm, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She retorts, even going as far as to roll her eyes, "You said you weren't planning on eating anytime soon so I made myself comfortable. You have a problem with that?"

Oh. She was serious? You didn't think..

"No, I don't mind..I guess," You mumbled, a little embarrassed at how hot your face was just from the simple proximity. You tried your best to hide it by turning your head downwards a bit more, hoping that it would come off as you being really indulged in your book, but really, it just looked like you had bad reading posture..

"So.." Aubrey mumbles after a while of silence, "What's the book about? I noticed you've gotten pretty far so it must be at least a little interesting, right?"

"Oh? It's ( Favorite book/light novel ). It's really good, probably my favorite," Without your knowledge, a small smile begins creeping up your lips, "It has a lot of funny moments actually. Like for example, the main character and their friends did this really stupid thing where.."

You ended up talking Aubrey's ear off about the book for the rest of the afternoon. She didn't seem to mind it. In fact, she seemed pretty engaged in the conversation which was a bit surprising to you.

Rambling on and on about the things that you had already read a million times, you didn't even notice that you had subconsciously eaten the entire slice of pizza until it was gone..

Huh.. Who knew a good talk about something you enjoyed would make you work up such an appetite?

You absolutely despise sick days.

Because of two days. Because you missed two measly days because you felt under the weather, your entire day- no, your entire week has been fucked.

Assignment on top of assignment on top of assignment on top of a ten-thousand word essay, on top of a multi-step project that's all due in a few days. And that's only for one class! You knew it was a bad idea to lay in bed all day not doing anything, especially when you're a college student nearing the end of the year, but you had felt so bad the days prior you couldn't help yourself..

And now, you're stuck at your desk, writing away. Even though you've been at it since early this morning, you've only managed to finish one-third of all your work. This may be because you haven't eaten anything all day and your body hasn't fully recovered from being sick, but it's whatever. You don't have time to worry about yourself right now anyway..

 "Hey, babe!" Hero chimed as he walked into your room. Normally, you would've replied with a small 'Hey' or something, but today, you didn't even glance at him much less speak.

"Uhm..babe?" He calls again only to get the same response; silence. It makes him frown at first, but as soon as he notices your open computer and the small stack of papers on the side of you, his frown straightens out a little.

"Would you like some help?" He walks closer, "I don't know much about this subject in particular, but I can at least.." Hero words fail as a rather loud and embarrassing gurgle erupts from your stomach--a little drawn out as it pleads with you to feed it.

 "Y/n," Hero calls out, a little more firmly this time, "Have you eaten yet?" For the first time today, you finally force your eyes away from the notes you're writing and glance over at your boyfriend, who was staring at you with furrowed brows and eyes filled with worry.

It almost makes you hesitant to lie to him. Almost. You shake your head yes.

 "Are you lying?" He asks, and this time, you decide not to answer him and instead look away from him, focusing back on the assignment at hand. Hero sighs.

 "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't do this again.." He mumbles, resisting to spew out the lecture that sits on his tongue. You already seemed stressed out as is, he shouldn't make things worse.

And so, he turns and leaves. You don't know how long he was gone for nor did he tell you where you went, but he made it obvious of his return when he gently snatched your papers away from you and replaced it with a brown paper bag that had the logo of your favorite fast food joint on it.

 "I'll give this back to you when you finish eating," He says and you fix your lips to argue with him. You can't afford to take a break after all. If you do now, you'll never get this done in time..

 "These are just notes, right?" He clarifies as he grabs your laptop with his free hand, lifting it off your desk with ease, "If so, I can finish this up while you eat."

 "But.." You mumble out, but that's all you really have the energy of saying. With your stomach aching, a hunger headache pounding against your skull, and the delicious smell of food taunting you, you can't really do anything besides sigh, nod, and take the food out of the bag.

As you take the first bite and the flavor hits your tongue, you hum in satisfaction before taking another bite and repeating the cycle. As this goes on, Hero watches you with a smile on his face, eventually having to force himself to look away so that he can focus on the computer screen that shines brightly in his face.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[artstelle]

Not Mine To Keep

The first time Arthur came to Merlin's shop, he looked so out of place, unsure of what to do. Merlin guessed he was either too "manly" to be seen buying flowers, or a rich prat who never had to buy his gifts himself. Neither were exactly wrong guesses. He felt bad for the woman the man was buying the flowers for.

They had a rather unpleasant encounter that day and Merlin was sure the man would never, ever come anywhere near the shop again, and would probably tell everyone he knew not to buy from there either. So it was a surprise when he saw the other man again. He said that while the employees were rude, the place unfortunately had the best flowers around. Of course, that would be a better excuse if the man actually bought any flowers that time.

After that, it became a regular thing, Arthur visiting once a week. At first, he asked questions about flowers, then it turned into them chatting, insulting each other sometimes and joking, laughing.

Merlin knew he shouldn't, but he was sad and depressed when the man – Arthur, he learnt – stopped coming. He was worried when Arthur didn't show up for two weeks in a row, but weeks turned into months and he accepted that the other man had probably just grown bored of their little conversations.

And then, he just showed up. Merlin welcomed him as he would any other customer, tried not to stare or ask demand an explanation as to why he just vanished. But he knew he had no right to, they were two strangers having casual conversation, that was all. If Merlin had feelings for that gorgeus blond man who turned out to be actually funny and charming, then it was his problem alone.

Arthur stayed silent for some time, and he seemed nervous, god knows why. He looked at his hands, the flowers, the walls and anywhere other than at Merlin. Just as the silence started to be too much and Merlin thought maybe he should say something, Arthur opened his mouth.

"I had things to deal with. Things to arrange. Both personal and business issues." Merlin wanted to say there was no need for explanation, but was too shocked by Arthur's next words to say anything. "I am sorry."

Arthur Pendragon did not apologize. He would show that he was sorry, but never put it into words.

But Merlin had to talk, because the man was looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer. "Oh, um... O-ok." What he wanted to say was: why do you look like a kicked puppy? "It's fine, life gets busy sometimes." That seemed to ease Arthur's mind, if the smile that formed on his lips was any proof. His beautiful lips, how nice it would be to kiss them. Oh for god's sake! Merlin had to get rid of those thoughts.

"Well, is there anything you want? If you aren't going to buy anything, I can get you a chair, but you're blocking the way. Though I don't think I can talk much, there's a big order I need to prepare." He didn't mean to sound harsh, didn't want Arthur to leave, but it was hard to go back to how they used to be. Maybe in a week, he would stop wondering what the personal matters he had to arrange were.

"Actually... I want to. I'm here for a bouquet."

Oh... Ok then. That was unexpected. Merlin remined himself that there was nothing for him to be sad about.

"Ok, which one?" He showed the bouquets that were prepared for customers to choose from. It helped them to see how the thing would look before purchasing, it and was faster to have some made up already when it was busy. And if they didn't sell, Merlin took them to the local hospital to give someone a little smile. "Or do you want a custom made one?"

"A custom one. But I was hoping you could help me choose the flowers." Arthur twisted the end of the ribbon on the counter around his finger.

"Sure, it is my job." Stop being so nervous, Merlin told himself firmly. "What kind of bouquet do you want?" He didn't want to know but he had to ask.

"To show... Something that says 'You are important to me' and 'I think of you all the time.'"

Merlin's heart hurt so much he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hide it. It was no surprise the bouquet was for Arthur's lover, but he would never have expected Arthur could say such things. He must really love her. "And 'I wish to spend more time with you.'" Arthur looked at Merlin for the first time since he had entered the shop that day. Merlin wished he wouldn't. "And..." Please, enough, go tell those things to her yourself. I don't want to hear them! "'I love you.'"

Merlin turned his back, knowing he should be happy that Arthur had found someone he loved. Arthur often talked about the girls his father threw his way and how he never had any feelings at all, at least most of the time. Whenever that happened, Merlin thought about Arthur's first visit to his shop, the bouquet he'd bought, but he couldn't bring himself to ask who it had been for.

"I'll make something." He bit his lip while choosing the flowers. Merlin stared at the bright lamp to prevent the tears from falling down his cheeks. He didn't want to make a fast and simple bouquet just to get away from the situation. It was important to Arthur, and if Merlin couldn't be happy for him, at least he could do his job right.

After who knew how long, he had the flowers ready. "Here, I hope she likes them."

But Arthur did not reach out to take them.

"I hope he does," he said instead. "Keep them, please. They're for you."

_____________________________________________________________

Look… I drew that in November. Then when I was posting, I realized I forget to add the bouquet and since then it is waiting to be posted in my wip folder. Not even wip! I put that in completed folder cause like, it was mostly done. I wanted to pick flowers with correct meanings. I gave up and just drew a pretty bouqute cause it is better than never finishing it. Please pretend they have suitable meanings to what Arthur wanted to say.

I wasn't planning to write something that long! Wow.

Edit: I posted it to ao3 too. Here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48305071

Flowershop AU for @merlinbingo

art by @artstelle