#at least if i was like going to hurt myself in a life threatening way i could potentially die

[scarletcomet]

there's really no help for feeling suicidal when you're not in immediate danger

[yaksha-lover]

Summary: After the events of ghost bride, Vil and Leona decide to continue their competition to determine who is the best suitor. They decide you, being new to the school, are the best option to try and romance.

Multi x GN Reader (Leona, Vil, Ace, Deuce, Floyd, Rook, Azul, Malleus)

Part 2

“Yeah, whatever, you failed too. Doesn’t mean a thing. Any sane person would’ve chosen me over you,” Leona snarks.

“Prove it, then. Let’s choose someone else and we’ll be able to determine who the real winner is,” Vil replies, not bothering to look up from the compact he’s using to apply his makeup.

Leona’s ears perk a little at the idea, but he turns his nose up at it anyway. “Like who? Everyone at this school’s already stepping over each other to get a picture with you. Not exactly a fair competition, blondie.”

“Our dear prefect hasn’t been at the school long, and they’ve never known me as a celebrity since they’re from another world. It seems they would be the fairest way to continue our little competition,” Vil pauses, looking back over at Leona. “If that’s okay with you, your majesty.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “Old bride clearly had no taste. At least the prefect won’t have all these delusional biases about their ‘prince,’” he grumbles. “Fine, they’ll do.”

“Alright, then whoever can get them to accept an invitation to the upcoming semi-formal will be the winner.”

“Deal. Try not to feel too hurt by their rejection, it’s not as though you can compete with a real prince like myself.”

“I’m not worried, you hardly qualify as a prince, lazy second-son that you are. Unless you’re planning to actually try for once? Could it be you have another motivation for wooing the prefect?”

“As if I would go for a pathetic little herbivore like them. I’m in this to prove a point to you, that’s all,” Leona huffs. “You’re the one who suggested them. Projecting, are we?”

Vil smirks at his denial. “My, my, quite the tsundere little kitty you are. I have no reason to deny, I have become quite fond of them recently. Enough to stop you from becoming a perpetual nuisance in their life, at least.”

-

The next day, you sit at your usual lunch table with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, when a certain grumpy lion approaches you.

“Herbivores,” Leona says, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Grim devouring an entire leg of chicken. He turns his gaze to you. “Get up, prefect, I need to talk to you.”

“Kinda busy,” you mumble, mouth full of food.

“Why, hello prefect,” Vil greets, walking over from his table where Rook and Epel watch on. “Ah, let me get that for you.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, gently tilting your face when you look up at him and dabbing at the corner of your mouth. “Now you look perfect.” Vil looks up at Leona, saccharine smile ablaze. “Was this man bothering you?”

You ignore his strange behaviour and decide to just continue eating.

Leona glares at him, spotting the rose in Vil’s hand. “Aren’t you about to do the same thing, Schoenheit?”

Vil scoffs, glimpsing the small jewelry box Leona is subtly holding behind his back. “Hardly. I was simply checking in on my dear friend, who seemed distressed by your presence.”

Between Grim looking over at your food every two seconds and the bickering going on above your head, you decide to give in and let him have the rest of yours. “…I think I’m just going to leave.”

The two housewardens are too busy bickering to notice you making your escape, leaving them with the rest of your table.

“I never knew you felt so threatened by me. You really had to resort to sabotaging my attempts?”

“I was not! You just happened to be in the way of my own plans,” Vil dismisses.

Ace finally looks up from his lunch to address the situation. “What’s up with you, housewardens? Why are you hovering around the prefect like that?”

“Stick your nose out of this, freshman. It’s none of your business.”

Vil sighs. “If you must know, I wish to ask the prefect to attend the semi-formal as my date. I came to ask them.”

Ace looks back in forth in surprise between Vil and Leona. “You too, Leona? Huh, never figured you’d be interested in anyone but yourself.”

“Don’t lump me in with him. This is just a competition for me. Neither of us won when trying to charm the ghost, so now I’m going to take my victory over him.”

Ace relaxes a little at his words, turning to the other housewarden. “You’re doing this for a competition, Vil? I know Leona is shameless, but surely you’d never stoop to his level?”

“It’s not just for the competition. I do like the prefect, but now I have the chance to take them to the dance and to show Leona how much more charming I am than him.”

“I mean, I hate to rain on your guys parade but I think it’s a lost cause. The prefect definitely likes me. We’re best friends after all, so they’d probably choose me if I asked.” Ace says nonchalantly, earning him a glare from Deuce. “Not that I’m interested in them! Obviously, I don’t care. But, uh, if it’s a competition, of course I have to win.”

Deuce rolls his eyes: “You’re such an idiot. And wrong. I’m their best friend.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Vil asks Leona when he starts to walk away.

“To nap. It’s exhausting dealing with you children. Try not to get in my way, next time,” Leona replies, not bothering to turn around as he saunters away.

-

The next time you’re approached by the housewardens is in the hallway after class. You jump in surprise when a hand reaches around your waist to pull you into an empty classroom. The long brown hair that tickles your face gives you a pretty good idea of who the culprit is.

“Prefect,” Leona greets casually , as if he didn’t just basically kidnap you with no explanation.

“What are you doing? Will you let go of me, please,” you sigh.

Leona loosens his grip and turns you around in his arms to face him. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s so close his breath brushes over your neck.” “For me to let go of you?”

“Leona?! I-”

Your response is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the noise of chatting students approaching the classroom you currently occupy. You and Leona fling apart, but there isn’t enough time for you to calm your flustered face before Floyd, just entering the room, is able to see it.

“Shrimpy! What are you doing in here with sea lion?” Floyd takes in your embarrassed expression. “You haven’t been doing anything naughty, have you? And without me?”

“Nothing happened, eel. Let’s go, prefect.”

“Now you’re trying to take shrimpy away after hogging them all to yourself?”

“Sorry, Floyd,” you appease, not wanting to get into another ridiculous situation, “but he’s right. I have a class to get to.”

“Class is boring. I’d much rather be playing with you, but suit yourself. I’ll just have to squeeze you sometime later!”

Leona trails behind you as you walk to your next class, demanding an explanation from him.

“So why did you try and seduce me?”

“Seduce? You’re so perverted. Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I was only trying to-”

His reasoning is interrupted by Crewel’s glare as you silently head into class and take your spot beside Ace, leaving Leona to get a talking to for making you late.

-

“Leona and Vil have both been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why.”

You miss the side-eye Ace and Deuce give each other as they ‘uh huh’ your venting.

“So,” Ace says, leaning towards you a bit, “Have you heard of the upcoming dance?” He winces when Deuce kicks him from under the table. “It’s kinda stupid, but if you wanted to go-”

“Trappola! Quiet or you’ll have extra work to do after class.”

Crewel seemed to be saving you a lot today.

-

Later, you notice Vil ahead of you, walking by himself through the halls. He drops something on the ground, but walks away before you can call out to him. Picking up his dropped handkerchief, you rush after him, finding yourself in yet another dim, empty classroom.

“Vil?” you call. He turns around, and you hold his lost item out to him. “You dropped this.”

His eyes light up and he smiles when he sees what you’ve brought. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear.” He approaches you, suddenly dropping a kiss on your cheek, making your face heat up. He winks. “Just a little reward for your endless kindness.”

“Uh, it was nothing, really.”

“Nonsense!” Vil leans against the wall, filling your view. “In fact, let me repay you. Do you have some time now?”

Before you can respond, someone flickers the lights on, the brightness now revealing the room was less empty than you assumed. The sound of a violin fills your ears as you spot Rook in the corner of the room, playing beautifully. Epel stands in front of a small table, set with two plates and a vase of roses in the middle. He blushes a little when you spot him, giving you a gentle wave. Both of them wear suits. Epel approaches Vil to remove his school overcoat to put on a more traditional suit jacket.

Still lost in confusion, you let Vil guide you to your seat at the table. He sits down across from you, taking your hands into his. Epel brings out a slice of chocolate cake, setting it between you, before going to sit near Rook.

“Ah, I hope you don’t mind sharing, dear.” He winks again. “You know, I really would like to repay you for your act of kindness.”

“Did you just- have this all set up? In case you dropped something…? It’s really nothing, it took me literally two seconds to return.”

“So humble, it’s one of your many fantastic qualities. I am serious about treating you, though. You know the upcoming dance?” You nod, not liking where this is going. “How about I accompany-”

Before he can finish, the door flies open and Leona struts in. He, seemingly, is not fazed by this set up in the middle of an empty classroom.

He ignores Vil and the others completely, turning to you. “Prefect, we never finished our conversation from earlier,” he grumbles.

“You’re right. Sorry, Vil, but it would be rude to keep him waiting. I better just-”

“Please, I have something important to ask you. Just one moment of you time is all I ask.” Vil places him arm on your shoulder.

“They already made up their mind, Schoenheit. Back off, they wanna come with me.” Leona grabs hold of your hand, trying to tug you out of Vil’s grasp.

Vil does not give in, taking hold of your other hand. “Putting words into their mouth, Kingscholar? They were about to choose me.”

Stuck between the two of them, locked in a glaring contest, you try to pull your arms from both of them.

“Merveilleux!” Rook stops playing his violin, approaching the group of you. “To have two beautiful men trying to make you swoon, c’est le paradis!Would you like me to become a contender for your heart as well?” Rook sweeps his arms around you gently, before Leona pushes him off.

“Fuck off, I don’t need another one of you pomefiore brats swarming around them.”

Rook turns back to you. “He’s quite possessive, are you into that type of man, I wonder? I can be that type too~”

“I’ve gotta go,” you say, taking this chance to run out of the class.

-

You’re asked to sit in on a meeting with the teachers and housewardens, which Vil and Leona decide to use as their last opportunity to win once most of the others have left. Only you, Leona, Vil, and Azul remain, still packing up your things.

“Prefect? I apologize to bother you again, but if I could, I’d still love to ask you-”

Vil is, once again, interrupted before he can finish.

“Prefect,” Leona says, touching your cheek. You turn to face him just in time for him to pull out a jewelry box from his pocket, popping it open in front of you. “I-”

“What the hell? Are you actually proposing to me?!”

“What are you on about?” It’s only then that Leona seems to realize your confusion. “A ring, Ruggie?? I said get something nice, not a ring!”

Ruggie strolls in from around the corner, shrugging. “I’ve never even seen jewelry this expensive before. How would I know what you wanted me to get? I’ll take it if they don’t want it.” He pauses, suddenly remembering something. “Also, did you still want me to bring in the flowers? There’s four hundred roses just sitting in the other room.”

You turn back to Leona incredulously. “Why did you send Ruggie to- Forget it, why have you guys been acting so strange?”

“Leona and Vil made a bet on who could get you to agree to go as their date to the semi-formal. It seems their small, fragile egos were quite bruised from their rejection by the ghost bride,” Azul interjects, finally looking up from his book at the corner of the table.

Vil stares at him. “You truly have no loyalty nor shame.”

“Says you,” you quip.

“Yes, it’s quite pitiful. I heard rumours and used my resources to discover the truth. I thought you deserved to know, prefect.” Azul stands from his chair, approaching where you’re sitting to place a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you still wanted to attend the event with someone who wasn’t planning on manipulating you into it, I would be happy to offer my services.”

Your narrowed eyes prompts Azul’s swift apology.

“Ah, I see now was not the correct time. I shall make my exit.” He leaves the room along with Ruggie, leaving you three alone.

“What is wrong with both of you? You didn’t learn your lesson with Eliza? It’s messed up to play with a person’s feelings like this, I’m not your little prop.”

“Prefect-” Vil starts, cutting himself off at the look you give him.

You give them each one last glare before walking out the door, barely hiding your laughter.

-

“You’re quite the actor, my dear,” Malleus says, slipping your hand into his own as the two of you walk towards Ramshackle.

“I know,” you laugh, “Did you see their faces? I think that’s the first time in his life Leona’s ever looked guilty. His tail was definitely between his legs.”

“Yes, it was rather unbecoming of him,” Malleus chuckles, before stopping his stride. “Although, you could have simply let them know you already belong to another.”

“True, but it shouldn’t really matter. It’s not as though they’re actually interested. They clearly just think of me as some kind of prize to win in an ego competition. Plus, it’ll certainly make a scene when we walk in to the dance together, won’t it?”

Malleus sighs, pulling you into his arms to drop a kiss on your head, before continuing to walk you home. “You are far too naive, my love. Not to worry, you have me to protect you from those beasts.”

[drabblesandsnippets]

Sunshine - Part 2

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 6

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)

Prompt: “I won’t be able to stop myself.” | [Sex Pollen | Gone Feral | Fuck or Die] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (5k) Series Masterlist After a night out with Bucky’s friends, things will never be the same.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities and anxiety (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Use of weed. Use of alcohol. Questionable drunk thoughts & decisions. Masturbation.

---------------------------

Bucky can’t stop.

Whether he’s awake or asleep, she’s there, occupying his thoughts. 

When he’s out with his friends, he imagines her there, getting to see her laugh and have a good time.

When he’s working, he thinks about what it’d be like to take her picture. To pose her. To touch her. To boost her confidence.

And when he’s asleep, he dreams of her, waking up harder than he’s ever been in his entire life.

It won’t stop, no matter what he does.

It’s even gotten to the point where Bucky’s considered telling her to start looking for another roommate, to offer to help her find someone. But, she’ll ask why, and he can’t lie to her. 

He’d have to tell her that he can’t stop thinking about her. That he can’t stop fantasizing about her. That he can’t stop picturing himself sneaking into the bathroom late at night to listen through the thin wall, hoping to catch the sounds she makes when she touches herself.

His confession would not only make her uncomfortable, but she’d never forgive him, and rightfully so. He’d just be another person in her life that ended up hurting her. So he selfishly does nothing, other than continue to allow himself to indulge in the fantasies, keeping it strictly to when she’s not home, or after she’s already gone to her room.

When they are together, he forces himself to keep his thoughts strictly PG-13, never risking giving her a reason to think he wants more than a friendship. Bucky doesn’t know as much about her as he’d like, but her avoidance of physical touch and vague answers about past relationships gives him no reason to think she’d even be interested. It’s just not worth the risk.

All he can hope is that eventually his feelings will fade, and until then he’ll continue on as normal. Inviting her out, hoping she says yes, while secretly starting to feel grateful that he’s been able to keep the two parts of his life separate. It’s been easier that way.

And then Steve opens his big fucking mouth. 

He wasn’t even supposed to be here for at least another hour, but here he stands in their kitchen, drinking one of Bucky’s beers, laughing at something Sunshine’s saying. Trying to get her to change her mind after Bucky extended the invitation.

Of all the times for his friend to get involved, it has to be on the night they’re heading to a bar to check out some live music. A crowd of noisy drunk people is so far out of her comfort zone that Bucky can't help but jump to her rescue, telling her, “It’s okay. Maybe another night.”

For some reason that Bucky hasn't figured out yet, Steve won’t let it go, interjecting before Sunshine can respond. “It won’t be too crazy, I promise.” With a friendly smile and a lift of his beer, he adds, “And if it ends up not being your thing, any one of us will be happy to bring you home.” 

It’s ridiculous to think that Steve is flirting with her, but the thought still crosses Bucky’s mind and it has his irritation growing, the sneaking feeling of jealousy threatening to build inside him. Resisting the urge to snap at his friend to be quiet, he keeps his attention on Sunshine, telling her, “You’re more than welcome to join us, but please don’t feel obligated because of this one.”

Her eyes bounce between the two men as she shifts uncomfortably and her cheeks flush, but she’s quick to shake her head. “It sounds like it could be fun… I’m just… um.” The anxiety building in her is palpable, causing Bucky’s concern to grow and his irritation at Steve to reach new levels. This is all his fault. Just as he opens his mouth to assure her, again, that there would be no hard feelings, she mumbles, “I’m not sure what to wear.”

The shy, awkward words cause Bucky’s chest to tighten and if he wasn’t worried about making this whole thing worse, he’d tell her exactly what he’s thinking. That it doesn’t matter what she wears because she always looks good. She could go dressed exactly as she is now - sweatpants and a worn t-shirt - and she’d still have his attention the whole night.

And then Steve beats him to it, the smile on his face conveying nothing but friendliness, but the words still get under Bucky’s skin. “You’ll look good no matter what you wear.” 

Bucky wants to be the cause of the blush that spreads across Sunshine’s skin. He wants to be the reason she rolls her eyes and laughs at the compliment. And if it were him saying it, he’d make sure she believed it too. He wouldn’t let her leave this kitchen without knowing, without a doubt, that she’s always beautiful.

That's not an option though. He has to watch her dismissively shake her head as she takes her leave, and the moment she’s out of earshot, the tension in Bucky’s shoulders grows. With a hard glare aimed at his best friend, Bucky asks, “What the fuck was that about?” There’s not much that can rattle him these days, but if there’s anyone that knows how to push his buttons, it’s Steve. 

Steve continues with the innocent act for a beat longer, making a show of taking a long, slow sip from his beer before he finally asks, “What? I can’t be nice to your roommate?” He’s immune to the subtle warning twitch of Bucky’s jaw, having spent years perfecting just how far he can take things without pissing Bucky off too much. 

When it comes to Sunshine though, his fuse is much shorter, and whatever game Steve’s playing, Bucky needs it to end now.

“Enough.” Bucky pushes himself off the counter he’s been leaning on, forcing himself to head towards the fridge instead of getting in Steve’s face. “Leave her alone.” Even as he says it, Bucky knows this isn’t really about her. His best friend never does anything just to piss him off. There’s always a reason behind his provoking, usually one Bucky doesn’t like.

“She said she wanted to come. You want her to come. So, what’s the issue?” And there it is. Steve’s agenda. Involving himself in things that don’t concern him. Trying to goad Bucky into a conversation that he doesn’t want to have. One that he’s been skirting around for weeks.

Refusing to take the bait, Bucky rolls his eyes and ducks his head into the fridge to grab a beer. He’s tired of his friends using the excuse that they’re ‘looking out for him’ when they try to insert themselves into his love life (or lack thereof). He’s not putting up with it tonight.

“You had your fun,” Bucky tells him, keeping his tone even as he twists the cap off the cold bottle in his hand, making it clear he’s reached his limit. “You got your wish. No more games. Leave it alone.”

The only goal is to make sure Sunshine has a good time tonight. 

-------------------

She doesn’t know what she’s doing. 

One minute she’s making a ‘joke’ about celebrating her recent promotion with a night filled with weed, games, and social media, and the next she’s agreeing to go out to a bar with them. 

She rarely goes out, and when she does it’s not to a crowded bar. It’s been a long time since she's even felt the desire, a brief stint in her early 20s spent anywhere but home having convinced her it wasn’t for her. A part of her life she barely remembers and one she definitely doesn’t want to revisit. 

Shaking the flash of memories from her head, she lifts her hand to wipe the light sweat covering her upper lip and keeps digging through her closet, searching for whatever will feel the most comfortable. Pajamas. At home. Alone. (Or maybe just with Bucky). 

She rolls her eyes at the thought and narrows her selections down to a few shirts, a couple of which she hasn’t worn in months, and the one pair of jeans that doesn’t dig into her stomach every time she sits down. Despite Steve’s friendly encouragement, she’s nervous, studying her reflection in the mirror as she tries on each shirt, growing sweatier with each change. 

None of them feel right. They’re either too tight, too big, or show off too much cleavage. This is her first time hanging out with Bucky’s friends and she doesn’t want to choose the wrong thing. She wants to blend in, draw the least amount of attention.

Several outfit changes later, she’s in a simple v-neck t-shirt, brushing her hair out of her reddened face, pulling the damp strands into a quick bun. The desire to wear her hair down was quickly overruled by her desire to not overheat and look like a mess tonight. 

It takes her a few minutes of sitting on her bed to cool off, trying her best not to look like she just ran a marathon, but as nervous and anxious as she is about tonight, she’s also excited. This has been a long time coming, and the edible she took a little while ago should help before they even get to the bar.

At least she’s stopped having inappropriate thoughts about Bucky. Well, for the most part anyway. She’ll still occasionally think about accidentally overhearing him in the shower, and she tries not to think about the really intense dream she had about him not that long ago, but it’s not everyday anymore so it’s easy to pretend it doesn’t exist.

And, hopefully, getting to see Bucky in his element tonight will put all this to rest. With any luck, she’ll get to watch him flirt with random women and finally learn what his type is. She assumes it’s the complete opposite of her. Someone bubbly and positive. Someone perky. Thin. Pretty. 

-------------------

Sunshine’s not wearing anything Bucky hasn’t seen her in before, but he swears there’s something different. Maybe it’s the passing streetlights illuminating her beauty, or the smile that’s been on her face since they got in their shared ride, or maybe it’s the light breeze coming in through the cracked car window, the wind blowing wisps of hair along her temples. 

Whatever it is, he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes off her, and an even harder time not letting his thoughts stray. The only saving grace is that Steve’s keeping her preoccupied from the front passenger seat, giving her all the gossip about their friends. How they all met. What everyone does for a living. The kind of shit they get up to when they hang out. 

“One of these days, ya gotta get Buck to tell you about the time he convinced us to break into a private club to go swimming.” 

Bucky doesn’t miss the way Sunshine’s eyes widen and her mouth opens in surprise, but he holds up his finger to correct Steve first. “Technically, it was ‘trespassing’ since I already had the key, and we wouldn’t have gotten caught if you hadn’t tripped the alarm on the way out. I told you exactly-.”

Steve is the first to interrupt him with a bark of a laugh, but before his best friend can start listing the useless defenses he has about that night, Sunshine speaks up, drawing both of their attention. “I’m sorry. You wanted to break into a private club?” 

Bucky’s reminder of ‘trespass’ earns him a glare that he takes in stride, laughing it off. “I worked there. I was allowed to use the pool. Whether or not I was allowed to bring guests was a gray area.”

Steve jumps in to finish, telling her, “It was not a gray area. We almost got arrested.” 

“We did not,” Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes at his best friend before turning his attention back to the woman that’s been driving him crazy. The look of slight amusement and bewilderment she’s giving has him clenching his hands in his lap, rubbing them along his jeans, wanting nothing more than to reach out and caress her cheek. To tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Not letting a second of silence fill the air, he explains, “There was no risk of getting arrested. I did get fired though.”

The nonchalant shrug Bucky gives her only adds to her state of confusion, and he can’t help but think how cute she looks, with her slightly furrowed brow and the crinkle along the bridge of her nose. Hiding the grin growing on his face, he glances out the window, taking note of how close they are to their destination.

Probably thinking he’s doing him a favor, Steve’s more than happy to keep the conversation going, telling Sunshine, “Don’t let his sunny disposition fool you.” The subtle warning look that Bucky shoots him, a silent reminder of their earlier conversation, has Steve quickly adding, “He’s the greatest guy I’ve ever known, don’t get me wrong, but he’s about as innocent as -.” 

“Nope,” Bucky interrupts him with a loud laugh, reaching forward to grab Steve’s shoulder, refusing to let him finish that thought. Steve laughs with him, but keeps his promise, letting the subject drop, turning back around in his seat for the last remaining seconds of their trip, much to the happiness of their driver.

This is the first time Sunshine’s learning there’s more to him than meets the eye, and as she grows quiet, Bucky can only imagine what she’s thinking. Until now, she’s been limited to witnessing the sweet, happy, enthusiastic side of him, leaving her with the assumption that he’s a Boy Scout - a goody two-shoes. 

He’s far from it, and as much apprehension as he has about how she'll react to getting know this side of him, there's also a jolt of excitement that he can't ignore. Maybe this will make their friendship even better.

-------------------

This is what she wanted. To get to know Bucky better, to see what he’s like out in the world, with his friends, with other people. But, she feels caught off guard. Like, none of her conversations with Bucky, or the interactions she’s witnessed between him and his friends prepared her for this.

The whole time that he’s been trying to get her to come out of her shell, he’s been hiding parts of himself. He’s been careful with her, never crossing a line, probably choosing his words carefully. There’s no doubt that Bucky’s been doing it for her benefit, but now it all feels like a lie. Like he hasn’t been able to be himself with her, and it hurts her feelings.

Whatever foolish expectations she had for the evening have flown out the window, and she’s more than grateful when the car pulls to a stop, the three of them spilling out onto the busy sidewalk. Fighting the urge to get right back in the car to take herself home, she follows the men into the bar, doing her best to avoid Bucky’s gaze.

He’s probably worried about her. Probably thinking she’s in over her head, that she’s realizing she made a mistake coming tonight. He’s probably thinking I told you so. That she’s not cut out for this - the bar, his friends, him. 

The racing thoughts leave her just as quickly as they come, Steve getting her attention as he takes the lead to wind them through the crowd, Bucky in step right next to her. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.” When all she manages is a slightly-forced smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes, Steve adds, “After everything Bucky’s told us about you, we’ve been looking forward to this.”

She steals a quick glance at Bucky, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her. He’s been watching her since she agreed to come tonight, like it’s his job to make sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed, like he’s expecting her to have a nervous breakdown at any moment. The smile he gives her only seems to prove her point, and it doesn’t help when all he innocently asks is, “What? You don’t talk to your friends about me?”

Of course she does, but it does nothing to quiet her concerns about what he’s told his friends about her. Are they expecting her to be an anxious mess? That she’s going to suddenly bolt in the middle of a conversation? What exactly-. She’s interrupted by Steve again, who’s looking at his phone.

“Buck, Nat found a table, and Yelena already disappeared.” He says it with a laugh, as if it’s a normal occurrence, not waiting for a response from Bucky before he says, “Why don’t you go help her keep our spot. We’ll get the drinks.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bucky open his mouth, and they all know what’s about to come out. The offer to switch places, have Steve go sit at the table while she and Bucky get the drinks. And for a split second, she wants him to. It would be so much easier.

But, how is she supposed to prove that she can handle this? That she’s perfectly capable of having a good time if she can’t even be alone with Bucky’s best friend for a few minutes? Both her and Steve answer at the same time - Steve telling him that they can manage a few drink orders, while she says it’s a good idea.

Obviously seeing that this isn’t a fight he’s going to win, and not wanting to risk losing their table, Bucky takes his leave, but not without giving them both one last look. At some point tonight, she and Bucky are going to have to hash this out, but not until she’s had a few drinks.

Keeping close to Steve, she follows him the rest of the way to the bar, not missing how he occasionally glances back to make sure she’s still there. She might feel like she doesn’t know Bucky as well as she thought, but there’s not a doubt in her mind that she’s safe with his friends. She has no reason to be worried about being alone with any one of them.

Well, other than for the fact that she has no idea what Bucky’s told them, or how they're going to treat her tonight. Maybe that’s why Steve wanted a minute alone with her. To tell her all the ways they’re going to help her, to make sure she doesn’t freak out or get overwhelmed. It wouldn’t be the first time a stranger’s given her unsolicited advice.

As if reading her mind, Steve sets her at ease, casually telling her, “He’s had nothing but great things to say about you.” With a raise of his arm, he gets the attention of the bartender to place their orders before turning his gaze back to her, the smile never leaving his face. His hand is still raised between them and he starts ticking things off on his fingers, recounting, “You’re the best roommate. You have great taste in music. And books. And movies.” With four of his digits raised, he lifts his thumb to add, “You’re hilarious. Should I keep going?”

She quickly shakes her head, a laugh bubbling out of her as her skin grows warm. These are all things Bucky’s told her, it’s just strange to hear them from his best friend, who she barely knows. With the effects of the edible having started to kick in a couple minutes ago, she feels comfortable enough to joke, “Is this the part where I’m supposed to list all the great things about Bucky?”

“God no,” Steve immediately tells her with a playful roll of his eyes and a grin that she’s sure has gotten him out of many a things in life. “I have to hear how great that man is all the time. I’d rather drink.” There’s no malice in his tone, no hint of resentment or frustration - this is just their relationship. They love each other and they give each other shit. Like brothers. Like family.

Ignoring the ache in her chest at the thought of family, she lets Steve talk her into doing a couple of the shots lined up on the bar for them. Not that it takes much convincing. There were never any plans to get through tonight even remotely sober.

-------------------

They all know. All of Bucky’s friends know that he has feelings for her, but they think it’s just a crush, like he’s in fucking high school. They have no idea that he can’t stop thinking about her, that it’s bordering on obsession. Not even Steve knows the extent of it. 

And tonight, they’re all too drunk to notice he’s been watching her, not out of concern for her mental well-being, but because she’s mesmerizing. Because Sunshine’s doing exactly what he’s been dreaming about for weeks - laughing and dancing and looking like she belongs right here. With his friends. With him.

The alcohol flowing through him makes it difficult to focus, and before he realizes it, Sunshine catches him in the act. Her attention had just been bouncing between joking with Nat and Sam, and watching the band currently playing, the music keeping most of the patrons on their feet. And now she’s staring right at him, as if she can read his mind. 

For a moment, he actually believes it, her brow slightly furrowing as she makes her way around the side of the table, reaching out to steady herself along the back of a chair. 

He has to fight the urge to help her, keeping his hands around his half-empty glass, the condensation wetting his fingers. After all the months of living together, all the conversations and late night Netflix marathons, he’s never touched her and now it’s all he can think about. It's the only thing on his mind, and she must be able to tell, because the look she’s giving him is telling him that he definitely fucked up. 

Just as he opens his mouth to apologize, she asks, “Can we go outside?” 

The only response he can muster is a quick nod of his head, and he silently follows her, his thoughts racing with what to tell her. How to explain himself. How to assure her that he’d never cross any lines. 

By the time they’re outside, the light breeze cooling their warm skin, he still doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t know how to fix this. All he can do is watch her, almost losing focus at her flushed skin and glassy eyes. Even drunk and stoned, she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

“Are we friends?” The question blindsides him. Makes him stand there, stunned, confused, and silent. Trying to work out why she’s asking that, of all the things she could be asking right now. With a slight slur to her words, she continues, telling him, “I like dirty jokes and inappropriate humor. I like teasing my friends and giving them shit about stupid stuff. I’m not great at rule-breaking, but I wouldn’t lecture you about it.”

The hurt in her eyes betray the joking tone she’s keeping, clearly trying to make light of a situation that’s been bothering her all night - since she learned that he’s not the wholesome, straight-laced guy she assumed him to be. 

So he did fuck up, just not in the way he thought. 

“I never thought you would lecture me,” he promises her, keeping the shaking of his head to a minimum, his eyes quickly losing focus. He blinks the blurriness away and gives her a warm smile, shoving his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to comfort her with his touch. “I just never wanted to put you in a situation where you were uncomfortable, Sunshine. Especially in your own home.”

The quick peak of her tongue wetting her lips has his cock stirring in his jeans, and it takes all his self control not to keep his gaze on her mouth. To ignore the flash of need to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, to taste her. He’s so busy trying to pretend he’s listening to her that he just barely catches what she's saying. 

“I'm more uncomfortable with your early morning singing and never-ending enthusiasm than I’d ever be with a dirty joke.”

Her response catches him off guard, and all he can do is laugh. All this time, he's been working so hard to reign in the parts of himself that might bother her, or make things awkward, and it was the complete opposite of what he should have been doing.

-------------------

She likes making him laugh. The crinkle of his eyes. The flash of his teeth. The slight shake of his head that has him lifting his hand to run it through his hair. She wants to feel it, to run her fingers through the soft strands. It’s the perfect length to grab hold of while-.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, laughter still pouring out of him. For the briefest of moments, she thinks she said it outloud, but quickly realizes what he means. 

After tonight, things will be different between them, like they’ve given each other permission to really be themselves. And as they return to the rest of the group, she can’t stop thinking what it’s going to be like from now on. The kind of jokes he’ll make. The off-hand comments she won’t keep holding back. The teasing they’ll get up to. 

All the inappropriate thoughts she’s been ignoring return ten-fold and she wonders if he’s a tease in bed. If he likes to drive his partner crazy. If he likes to be in control.

By the time the night is over, and they’re sharing a ride back home, she can’t stop stealing glances at him. Her eyes drifting to his mouth, wondering how he kisses. His five-o’clock shadow and what it would feel like between her thighs. His strong hands on her body.

That’s how she ends up in her bedroom, after a quick trip to the bathroom and a brief goodnight to Bucky - wishing like hell they had hugged, wanting the intoxicating smell of him to linger on her clothes and skin - she’s under her covers, naked and writhing at the touch of her own hand, her fingers teasing her nipples, the hand between her thighs ghosting over her swollen clit.

It’s easy to convince herself that because she has no idea what he’s really like in bed, this doesn’t count. This is just a fantasy that could be about anyone. Bucky’s just filling that role. He’s just a face for her to picture while she buries her fingers inside her dripping pussy, the palm of her hand pressed hard against her clit.

It gets harder to pretend as the pleasure builds and the fantasy becomes more intense, picturing him between her spread thighs, fucking her hard and fast, his growl of dirty words filling her head. And soon, she’s fantasizing about him hearing her - how he’d burst in and join her, bury his head between her thighs and fuck her with his tongue.

She’s not drunk enough to allow herself more than a couple seconds of unabashed noises, as if she’s really trying to tempt him, before she’s reigning it back. It’d never happen, but at least she has tonight. At least, for right now, she can pretend it’s him making her come, her hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth so she doesn’t scream his name.

-------------------

He shouldn’t be doing this. Bucky knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop himself. He blames it on the alcohol skewing his sense of integrity, but it’s a lie. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and yet he stands here, barely breathing, his ear pressed to the thin wall that separates the bathroom from her bedroom.

Refusing to give in to the temptation to touch himself, he keeps his sweaty hands on the wall, his fingers tensing and flexing against the hard surface. He’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself for eavesdropping like this, but touching himself at the same time would be a step too far. The guilt would eat away at him until he was forced to move out without warning.

Bucky doesn’t know how long he stands there, his heart racing and his eyes closed, all his focus trained on what’s happening in her bedroom, until he finally starts to hear her. The barely audible gasps, the muffled moans, the occasional cut-off cry that has his cock straining against his jeans. 

It’s better than anything he could’ve imagined and as wrong as this is, he can’t stop. Visions of what she’s doing plays through his mind, the possibilities of how she touches herself, what she’s fantasizing about, what’s causing the incredible noises spilling out of her.

And then the obvious signs of her getting closer suddenly has him sobering up. She’s drunk. Neither of them are in the right state of mind, and no matter how much he wants to stay right here to listen to her come, he hasn’t earned that right. He’ll never earn that right.

It still doesn’t stop him from ending the night the same way he’s ended every night for the past several weeks. This time, though, as he slowly strokes his cock, he doesn’t have to imagine what she sounds like. It’s all right there in his head, playing on a loop, working him quickly towards an intense orgasm, the sound of her name muffled as he covers his mouth with the palm of his hand.

There’s no doubt that he’ll regret this tomorrow, but as his cock stays hard in his grip, he can’t seem to care. It feels too good to stop, and it’s not long before he’s stroking himself again, his body aching for her touch. He’ll never have it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t live in this fantasy for just a few moments.

And if he’s lucky, he’ll forget all about this by the time morning comes.

---------------------------

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[kakushino]

hello can i get a giyuu x reader angst , like where giyuu had an argument with the reader , but it turns out the reader is pregnant? you can add any other plot twist cus i love plot twists thank you !<3

Almost

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

He had lost a lot of people in his life by his own making. He refused to lose you too.

Tags: pregnancy, arguments, blood mention, abortion mention (no actual abortion), hurt/comfort Word count: 2k

Masterlist

AN: Hope you enjoy it! I actually had a WIP of an argument + making up before, so I got to revisit it and add the pregnancy spice you asked for hehe~ Huge thanks to my dearest beta reader @glitchtricks94 for helping me clear it up (o゜▽゜)o☆ another huge thanks to @starrierknight for brainstorming with me

Giyuu’s injuries weren’t worse than normal, but that didn’t stop you from fretting over him – especially when he had a gash on his cheek, the same cheek you kissed a week ago when he was leaving for his mission. It made your chest feel tight to see his pretty face marred by demons. Your grandmother was surely rolling in her grave that such a classical beauty was hurt, the thought spurred you on to care for him.

No detail went unnoticed under your eye. He seemed tired, as usual, and a little stressed, as usual too - just a regular morning after slaying demons.

You sat him down at a western style dining table with a medical kit and supplies to clean the cuts with next to you. Your hands shook slightly when the damp cloth wiped away grime and blood, your lips pressed together when a fresh drop of blood oozed from the wound.

“You need to be more careful,” you murmured as you worked, the statement automatic, thoughtless.

Giyuu’s whole body stiffened. “Or what?”

You froze in place, your hand dipping the cloth in warm water. This was a new tone of his – a new way words could cut you if he wanted you to hurt: it was rough, serrated, mean. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders back a little, rearing for a fight. “You heard me the first time.”

You clenched your hand, leaving the rag in the water, and turned to fully face him. “Why are you so defensive? I meant no harm,” you replied, trying to calm the storm before it fully set in.

He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair he had sat in over. The look he shot you sent your heart galloping in your chest, from fear or indignation, you didn’t know. “You’ve done enough. Leave me be.”

Did he like you like this? Was the hurt in your eyes enough? That was – did he like the way it glinted, the way it caught the light? Hours upon hours spent on making your suffering pretty, and perhaps now it would pay off. He could cut you down into something pretty if he wanted to, and maybe you would let him.

Before he could walk away, before he could twist the rusty blade, you rose from your seat, “I have done nothing to warrant this tone with me, Tomioka Giyuu. Now tell me-“

"Stop bothering me," he cut you off, heading towards the door.

A violent whirlpool of emotion threatened to drown you, and for once, you let go. “You- you oaf! I can’t stand you being like this! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect,” he snapped, voice like a viper and words just as stinging. “Or at least it would be if I didn’t have you nagging me every time. I’ve been through this enough to know what to do with myself. Unlike you who sits here all pretty and safe and fat, ready to wrap a bandage and call it a day.”

You flinched, for the first time in your husband’s presence, tears springing from your eyes, which you rapidly blinked away. What have I ever done to deserve this? You had waited on your hands and knees for this man every time he’d come home battered and bruised and broken and put him back together, without complaining, with love. This was what you got in return for your devotion? Pretty and useless. That’s what he basically called you.

Your throat tightened. You hardly had the energy to respond so you turned away and just… left. You couldn’t continue listening to Giyuu when he sounded so much like… like Shinazugawa. Whatever was bothering him best be left alone to cool off before you could talk about it.

You nodded to yourself as you packed an overnight bag. Some time apart would be good for you both. You knew he wouldn’t be sent out on a mission for a few days again, since he just returned from a longer stint, so you would come back tomorrow and try to resolve it then.

It was time for a check-up with a midwife anyway.

He had really said all that.

And you left.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you left, as you should. He had treated you like garbage.

There was no going back, no taking back his idiocy, no swallowing back his words.

‘Let's stop fighting’ was at the tip of his tongue. ‘Come here and let me hug you’ nearly spilled from his lips. ‘I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry’ choked him up as you walked away.

He knew you were right. You did nothing wrong.

He felt nothing.

He was worth nothing.

Giyuu picked up the shards of his heart up and finished cleaning up his wounds. A short bath later, he walked into the kitchen to find food already made for him, now long gone cold. It just reminded him how much he butchered his relationship by what – stress and tiredness? A demon taunting him right before its death? If so little shook him up, did he even deserve to be with you?

A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of leaving you. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, hurting you and putting you in danger for being a Hashira’s partner yet wanting you to remain by his side.

After eating his portion, he made tea and waited to see if you would join him. There was no movement in the house at all; were you in your shared bedroom, laying in bed as you were used to when upset? He would give you time to cool off, give himself time to breathe, and then he would approach you with a clearer head. He needed to apologize.

One hour. Two hours.

Had he angered you so much that you wouldn’t come out? Your spats had never lasted this long.

The tea had long grown cold, but Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to make more. There were no sounds coming from the house.

Were you even here?

The thought jolted him from his seat, quickly walking to your shared bedroom.

“Love?”

Nothing.

“I’m coming in.”

He somehow expected it, though he’d hoped against it. You weren’t there.

Already turning to check all other rooms, he called out your name. His pace was brisk, his throat starting to clog up with a familiar emotion. Claws of anxiety sunk into his stomach, his heart beat like a drum, his lungs struggled to take in air. You weren’t there.

Where were you?

He ran through the whole estate and back two times but came up with no clue as to where you were. Panic mounted, crawling up his spine like a spider he couldn’t shake away.

Giyuu slammed the gate of his home open, very nearly running into his elderly neighbour.

She was hardly phased, though confused by his frazzled visage. “Tomioka-san? What’s got you in such a hurry, young boy?”

“Have you seen my wife?!” he’d never been as rude as he was now, but you were gone so what was he supposed to do?

“Your wife? Oh, that’s right, I saw her. If I recall, she was on her visit… hmm, who was she going to visit?” his neighbour mused. Giyuu waited with all the patience Urokodaki beat into him, that was – quite impatiently. “Oh right! A midwife! I was very surprised when-“

He stopped listening, or rather, he stopped hearing anything going on around him. A midwife? A midwife was a profession with a very specific set of skills for a very specific group of people… Did that mean-?

“Isotani-san,” Giyuu interrupted, breathless, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you saying my wife is pregnant?”

She squinted at him, “You didn’t know?”

It felt as if lightning came from clear skies and struck him. Every nerve itched with some kind of energy telling him to move.

He later vaguely remembered asking his neighbour for the direction you left in, but at the time, he saw nothing, and felt everything all at once.

Were you going to… terminate it? Were you going to tell the midwife, and would she terminate it? Was the midwife going to terminate it and help you move on? Would you move on without him?

Thoughts racing, heart galloping, Giyuu felt feverish. He stumbled back, deaf to his neighbour’s concerned questions as he turned the way you had left just hours ago. One foot in front of the other, a step by step, getting faster with each meter he passed until he was running nearly as fast as Uzui, desperation spurring him on.

Kanzaburo flew overhead, and when he cleared the village bounds, he called out to get the crow to lead him to you.

Time was of the essence. He may have botched his life, but he was too selfish to let go of you. He wanted, no- needed to get you back. You were his love, his soul, his home. He wouldn’t be able to go on if you left.

He felt crazed, desperate, as he ran.

Giyuu would have been faster had he not have to follow Kanzaburo but he wouldn’t be able to find you alone. He felt as if he was racing against the time. Any minute now, you would be in a the midwife’s home, waiting for the release from his clutches; any second now, you would sever the only tactile link you had to him – your baby.

His baby.

He swore, his mind supplementing him with your argument. It had been all his fault, he’d just lashed out because of nothing, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How childish he’d been – and he was supposed to be a father? No, he wanted to be a father. He’d fix himself and he’d support you and he’d even carry you your whole pregnancy, so you didn’t have to walk. He’d learn to cook more than the basics to feed you and your baby.

Please, let me be in time.

Then he saw you.

The whole world seemingly froze, grey and empty save for you.

You were a pearl amongst rocks, still as beautiful as the first day he saw you, as beautiful as you were on your wedding day.

Giyuu didn’t stop, even as you turned to him in surprise when he called your name. He didn’t stop until he had you in a soul-crushing hug, tight and near bruising – one he immediately eased up on, since he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Calm down, Giyuu! What’s going on?”

“D-don’t-“ he stumbled over his words, still frantic and breathing heavily, “don’t get rid of it!”

You were confused, “Get rid of what?”

His hands were heavy clutching onto your clothes, his frame nearly hanging onto you. “Our – our child,” he gasped out. “Isotani-san told me you were- she told me you were pregnant.” His words came out in a rush, eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils darted all over your face for a sign of – of anything, be it forgiveness, anger, sadness, anything.

Looking at him in such a state, near quivering in his spot, you felt powerful. Giyuu was at your mercy for once. You could topple him as easily as a sandcastle, crush him under your boot and grind down to juice him of all that made him who he was. It made you realize you held just as much power over him as he did over you. Oddly, you felt reassured - of his love, of your love, of the relationship. 

Heart hammering in your chest, cheeks filling with warmth, the adoration you carried in your heart spilled over and pooled in your stomach. You hungered for more of this power, positively starved to sink your teeth into him and drain him.

But that could wait.

“I am indeed pregnant,” you confirmed, your hands resting on his arms, thumbs stroking soothing lines over his muscles. You paused, letting the seconds painfully stretch out, “I’m not terminating the pregnancy.”

His whole being sagged with relief. Giyuu fell to his knees in slow motion, his hands sliding down your yukata to rest over your hips, now clutching the fabric there with a weak grip. “Thank gods…” he rasped out, his breathing stuttered as if holding back sobs. “Please, love, let’s not- I apologize – I apologize for everything. I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was wrong…”

His impossibly blue eyes met yours, the surface glistening with unshed tears, his guilt bitter but his plea tasting sweet on your tongue. Saliva gathered in your mouth, wanting more.

Did that make you a bad person?

“You dismissed my concern,” you stated, fighting back any expression wanting to take over your face. “You said I nag you. You called me useless.” And pretty, your mind supplied. He’d also called you fat, so there was that. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Giyuu’s lips were downturned, “You didn’t. I was an oaf.” His admission did nothing to soothe the ache he’d given you. “I’m willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy of my misdeeds.” He let go of your yukata, smoothing over the wrinkles he made. He didn’t know what to do with himself, trying not to fidget as you rolled his actions and words in your mind.

“There will be no punishment,” you told him. If possible, he became even more tense, the need for absolution great. Perhaps no punishment would be a punishment of itself. “But don’t think you’re entirely forgiven. I accept your apology; you however have to make up for it your own way.” You studied his earnest expression, brows slightly furrowed as he started thinking about ways to win you back. It shouldn’t be too hard. He did it once, he could do it again.

Giyuu slowly stood up, taking your hands in his. “I won’t disappoint you, love,” he said resolutely, kissing your fingertips softly. He adored you, with his whole heart, mind and body.

Everything would work out – just like the ice always melts and clouds disperse, a typhoon passes and the sea calms.

“If you pull this act again, I’m leaving.” You glared at him for a second to get your point across. Giyuu nodded and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

He almost lost you and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Thanks for reading! Reblog or comment if you liked it :3

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of court, mentions of shootings

Chris’s POV

It was early Saturday morning when Nate showed up at my place in Somerville, looking like he hadn’t slept a minute. He’d just been let go from the police station after being kept overnight. I could tell from the way his eyes darted around that he was still a little on edge. It wasn’t the first time Nate had found himself in trouble, but this was different. Getting arrested for carrying too much weed while being tied up with our crew was a whole new level of risky.

Nate and I were both part of the Crimson Cartel, a gang deeply embedded in Boston’s streets. His family had been involved for as long as I could remember, and his cousin Danny was one of the big players. I got pulled into it all because of Nate - our friendship was solid, and when he joined, it wasn’t long before I did too. 

“Got a joint, bro?”  Nate asked, his eyes already scanning the kitchen for one.

I laughed. “Seriously? You just got back from being arrested for possession, and you want to smoke up?”

“Hell yeah. What else am I gonna do?” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

I liked the occasional joint. It helped take the edge off, helped me relax when things got too hectic. But that was it - just weed, nothing harder. I knew where to draw the line. Sure, I sold drugs, but I didn’t get involved with any of the other shit. That was strictly for the older guys in the Crimson Cartel. Those were the ones who handled the hits, the intimidation, the gruesome work. They had been in the game for years, hardened by it. Nate and I, we were different.

We were the youngest in the gang - Me being 21, and Nate just 20, everyone else was 30+. We’d been involved since we were 16 & 17. Our job was simple: handle the drug runs, get the product from one place to another. No blood on our hands, no breaking bones or taking lives. It was a clean line, or at least that’s what I told myself. I wasn’t in this for the violence. Hell, I wasn’t even in this by choice, one bad decision snowballed, and now this was my life. My family freaked the fuck out when they found out. Kicked me out, didn’t want anything to do with me. That’s how I ended up living with my uncle Jerry, just trying to get by. I guess it helped having an uncle who liked to smoke too.

Just sell it – that’s what I kept reminding myself. I was good at it. I didn’t have to hurt anyone. I didn’t have to be like the older guys who let the gang swallow them whole. I wasn’t a thug, and I wasn’t going to become one. That’s how I stayed sane in all this.

The older guys in the cartel, though – they didn’t think like that. For them, it wasn’t just about the money. It was about power, about making a name for themselves on the streets of Boston. Nate and I didn’t fit into that. We were runners, sure, but we kept ourselves out of the violent shit. Nate had a reckless streak growing up, especially when he was with his cousin Danny, but even he didn’t want to cross that line.

Still, the older we got, the harder it became to stay in our lane. The more we were around, the more they expected from us. Every time I handed off a package, there was always this nagging feeling that eventually, they’d want more. Nate and I had managed to avoid that side of the cartel for now, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. There’s only so long you can run drugs before they start pulling you deeper in.

The truth was, this life had a way of blurring those lines. Sure, I wasn’t involved in any hits, but I was part of the same machine that funded them. Every deal I made, every bag I handed off, it all contributed to something bigger, something more dangerous. As much as I tried to keep myself at arm’s length from the bloodshed, I was still part of the problem. And deep down, I knew it. But I had to keep telling myself that it was different. That I was different. As long as I stayed on the edges of it, as long as I kept my head down and just did the runs, I wouldn’t have to cross that line. I wouldn’t have to become like Vince or Danny or any of the others who’d let the cartel define them.

We headed out the side gate of my bungalow and settled into the backyard. It was chilly, but the kind of brisk Boston morning you get used to. I pulled out a joint, lit it up, and handed it over as Nate slouched back into one of the old chairs. As he took a deep drag, I asked, “So, what the hell happened?”

He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling up into the air. “Man, it was a mess. I was out helping Danny and Sully with a run. You know, just moving some weight, nothing crazy. But then Danny got a call, said one of the big guys from H Block was back in town, and he couldn’t let that slide.”

I nodded, knowing all too well how territorial things had gotten lately between us and H Block.

“So, next thing I know, we’re driving down Charles Street, street was silent as fuck not a sinner on the place. I’d just smoked a joint and was high as hell when Danny starts shooting. I panicked when the shots went off and I hopped out the car. The car took off, and I was stuck there like a damn fool.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head. “You didn’t try to get back in?”

“Nah, man. They were gone, and I freaked out. I didn’t want to stick around a crime scene, so I ran. Ended up at the Public Garden trying to blend in, but it’s October so I’m sat there freezing my ass off. Eventually, I had to leave, but cops were swarming everywhere and I’m still high as fuck so of course, I run into them.”

I laughed a little at the irony, but it quickly faded when he said, “They nailed me for carrying more than the legal amount of weed and suspicion of selling. And there’s already whispers about me being involved in the shooting. If that gets out, I’m screwed.”

“Jesus, Nate. So, what happens now?” I asked, taking the joint back from him.

“I’ve got until Monday to figure things out. That’s when my court appearance is.” Nate said, leaning back in his chair as though he wasn’t too worried.

I took a deep breath. “So, less than 48 hours?”

He nodded, eyes half lidded as the weed hit him. “Yeah, but my record’s clean. It’s the first time I’ve ever been caught with anything, so I should get off light. Worst case? A fine and some community service. I doubt they’ll throw me in jail.”

I passed the joint back to him. “And they don’t have anything solid linking you to the hit?”

“Not yet, I mean from what I remember no one else was around.” he said, exhaling smoke. “But you know how it is. If they start digging, anything could come up.”

I sat there, processing everything. Nate was right, he might be fine, but there was always the chance the cops would sniff out something worse. “You want me to do anything?”

“Yeah, actually” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m supposed to do a run in Roxbury tomorrow, but with the heat on me, I need to lay low. Can you cover it?”

I thought about it for a second. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

Nate nodded, looking relieved. He gave me the address, and I pulled out my phone to type it into my notes app. As I did, I noticed a drop down notification that made me freeze.

“@y/ny/l/n2 liked your photo.”

I blinked, staring at the screen. Y/n Y/l/n? It had been years since I’d heard that name. Curious, I clicked the notification, but by the time the app loaded, it was gone. There was no mention of her like, no new activity on the post. Weird.

Nate noticed I was distracted. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just.. an old name popped up,” I said, pocketing my phone.

“Old girl?” he teased, a grin forming on his face.

“Something like that” I muttered, still thinking about Y/n. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in years, but I couldn’t deny that her name stirred something in me. We had a brief thing back in 2018, nothing too serious, but I always had a soft spot for her.

Nate eventually decided to head home, needing some rest after his long night in the station. I waved him off, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Y/n. What was she up to these days? Was she still in Boston? Why did she like my post after all this time? What made her look at my Instagram?

That night, I went over everything for the run tomorrow, making sure I had everything in place. But no matter how much I tried to focus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n.

She was one of those girls who left a mark on you, no matter how brief things had been. And even though it had been years, I couldn’t help but wonder what seeing her again might be like.

Monday came faster than I expected, and I found myself standing outside the Boston Municipal Court with Nate. He looked calm, or at least as calm as he could be given the situation. But I knew better. Nate always tried to play it cool, even when he was freaking out on the inside.

We hadn’t talked much since Saturday, and I could tell the nerves were starting to hit him now. His foot tapped restlessly on the courthouse steps as we waited for his case to be called. The morning air was crisp, the fall chill creeping in, and it wasn’t helping either of us settle.

“You’ll be fine” I muttered, trying to reassure him.

He gave me a tight smile. “Yeah, let’s hope so. Just gotta get through this.”

When they finally called Nate’s name, we both stood, making our way inside. The courtroom was filled with the usual mix of people – lawyers, family members, defendants. Everyone there for one reason or another, all waiting for their fate to be decided. As much as Nate tried to shrug it off, this was serious. The rumors about the hit on Charles Street were swirling, and we both knew if they got any real evidence, he was screwed.

Nate’s lawyer made a decent argument – first-time offense, clean record, no solid evidence tying him to anything worse than possession. They dragged it out longer than I thought they would, but in the end, the judge gave his ruling.

“A charitable donation of $2,000 and 50 hours of community service” the judge announced, his voice echoing through the courtroom. “Additionally, Mr. Doe, you are expected to refrain from any drug-related activities for the next 12 months. Any violation of this order will result in harsher consequences.”

The words were like a weight being lifted off Nate’s shoulders. He was let off easy. I knew he’d be able to pay the fine without blinking, and the community service? It was nothing. But the whole “refrain from drug-related activities” part? That was funny. We both knew that wasn’t happening. Nate just had to make sure he didn’t get caught.

As soon as the court was adjourned, I felt the tension drain out of me. Nate’s future was safe, for now. I clapped him on the back as we left the courtroom. “See? Not so bad.”

Nate grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, man, I guess I got lucky.”

But even though things had turned out okay, I needed to get out of there. The courtroom felt too small, too confined. I needed air, space to think, and to breathe. I left as fast as I could, practically jogging out of the courthouse doors and into the cool October breeze. It hit me like a wave, and I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head.

That’s when I saw her.

The most strikingly beautiful girl I’d seen in years. A face that was hard to forget. Something in my chest tightened as I watched her walk across the courtyard, almost in slow motion. She was looking down at her phone, completely unaware of my presence.

And then it hit me. I knew that girl.

Wait–Y/n?

The same Y/n I hadn’t seen since 2018. The same Y/n who had been on my mind all weekend after that weird Instagram notification.

My feet were frozen in place, and for a second, I felt like time had stopped. There she was, standing just a few feet away, as if fate had decided to throw us back together after all these years.

Y/n.

What the hell were the odds?

I didn’t know if I should walk up to her or just keep my distance, but before I could make a decision, she looked up from her phone and our eyes locked. My heart skipped a beat.

There was no avoiding it now.

Y/n’s Pov

"Y/n?" His voice was deeper than I remembered, smooth yet surprised.

I blinked, still in awe of how good looking he still was. He had that same disheveled charm, the messy brown hair, sharp jawline, and those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through me. Only now, he was taller, broader. He had grown into himself, and it was impossible to ignore.

"Chris" I breathed, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "Wow, it’s been a while."

"It really has" he said with that signature smirk of his. "It’s nice to see you. You look great."

I could feel my cheeks heating up. "Thanks. You too."

We stood there for a moment, just taking each other in. It was surreal, seeing him after all these years. I didn’t even know what to say or where to start.

"So.. what are you doing here?" I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

He chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nate got into a bit of trouble, as you probably saw in there. I’m just here to support him."

"Right" I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around everything. Chris and Nate, in court. A few years ago, I never would’ve pictured it, well maybe Nate but not so much Chris.

"How’s life treating you?" he said, eyes scanning me in that way that made my heart flutter. 

"It’s good, actually. Just finishing up a big project for college. Still getting used to all the work, but I like it."

He nodded, his gaze softening. "I’m glad to hear it. You always had your head on straight."

Before I could respond, Nate appeared, walking up to us with his usual nonchalance. He looked at Chris first, then at me, a flicker of recognition passing across his face.

"I’ll wait for you in the car, man" Nate said, slapping Chris on the back before giving me a nod. "Nice seeing you."

I returned the gesture, watching as Nate sauntered off. It was so strange, seeing both of them like this. Nate barely glanced back, disappearing down the steps toward the parking lot. My eyes flicked back to Chris, who was still watching me with that familiar intensity.

"We should hang out sometime" he said, almost casually, but there was something more to it.

My stomach did a flip. "Yeah, that would be nice."

Chris smiled, a genuine one that sent my pulse racing again. "You’re still living in Beacon Hill, right?"

I shook my head. "No, we moved once I started college. My parents wanted a bigger house in a quieter area, so we’re out in Brookline now."

He nodded, while giving me a soft smirk. "That’s cool. I’ve still got you on Instagram. I’ll shoot you a message, and we can figure something out."

The casual mention of Instagram made my face burn. He definitely saw the notification. I could feel the heat rising up my neck. But if he knew, he didn’t say anything. He just gave me that same charming smile, one that felt all too familiar.

"Yeah, sounds good" I mumbled, trying to keep my cool.

With one last glance, he gave me a quick nod before turning to leave. I watched as he walked away, feeling the blood rush to my face. The way he moved, the effortless confidence — it all hit me at once.

Chris was back in my life, just like that. And somehow, it felt like things were about to get a lot more complicated.

a/n: first chris povvvv

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69

[mothwingwritings]

Basic Maintenance

F!Reader X Jack Hanma

Hello everyone! Back at it with a new (maybe old, as I started this forever ago lol) Jack piece! I suppose you could call this a personal piece, I began it purely as a way to vent as I myself REALLY fucking hate going to the gynecologist and I had a pending appointment at the time. So as any sane person would do when faced with having to do something they despise, I wrote this to cope! Who wouldn’t recreate a moment in time you despise, embellished to be much worse than it actually was by starring your favorite fictional characters being horrible so you can live out the whole ordeal all over again but ~sexier~?

Anyway, here it is! Hope you enjoy it!

No explicit sex, but due to the subject material this fic is 18+ please!

Warnings: LOTS of genitalia talk in this one, readers vag is truly the star of the show here. Also heavy talk about doctors and medical procedures, specifically a pap smear, so if that icks you please be mindful! Also within is noncon mentions/past noncon, unhealthy relationships, yandere themes, kidnapped reader, abused reader, spicy reader (you have a bit of a tude in this but honestly its warranted), some language.

“Do you really have to be in here for this?”

Your irritation grew as you glowered at the man leaning nonchalantly in the corner, looking completely at ease as his back rested against the sterile wall of the doctor’s office. Maybe ‘hunched’ was a more suitable way to describe his posture, his mass taking up so much space that his head grazed the ceiling of the compact room, forcing him into an unnatural position. Jack’s face was impassive, eyes tightly closed as his arms crossed loosely over his chest, waiting patiently with you for the doctor’s arrival. He was so still that if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he had fallen asleep.

“Yes,” came his gruff reply, bronze eyes cracking open to lock on to yours, “Now stop asking. It will be over soon.”

You sighed heavily, kicking your feet lazily as they dangled off the medical bench. It was a battle you had lost before it even began, but that wasn’t going to stop you from voicing your complaints. Jack let you be alone for all your other medical appointments, so you didn’t understand why this one needed to be any different.

You were naked save for the baggy, dusty pink, medical gown that had been left for you to change into. While Jack had insisted on being in the room when you changed, he had shockingly granted you privacy while putting it on, turning his large body away the entire time you were undressed. It wasn’t as if you had anything left to hide from him (your nude form was something he had witnessed countless times before), but you had mentioned offhandedly that there was something particularly irksome about his unwavering stare in the confines of a hospital room, a place that was supposed to be private and confidential, that upset you-especially when you had to undress. He must have actually taken those words in to consideration, which was honestly more than you could have hoped for.

You grimaced when you accidentally rammed your fidgety legs into the unfolded feet stirrups that were lying in wait. Though it hurt you made no noise, only frowning at the uncomfortable reminder of the procedure that would be momentarily taking place. Glancing over at Jack amplified the pain, and you wished that at the very least he would grant you privacy for the intrusive process that was about to take place. But wishing amounted to nothing, and so you were left waiting in a heavy silence with Jack not too far off, the pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole.

The entirety of your life had become monitored by Jack, his ever present watchful eye making sure you were following the stringent rules he had set in place to keep you ‘safe.’ Safe from what you didn’t know, as you felt like little more than a prisoner the entire time you were in his care, locked in captivity with no means of interacting with the outside world other than what Jack deemed fit. Unsurprisingly, this turned out to be barely, if any, interaction at all. Due to this, your days had become a blur, each one resembling the next, melding into a mass of uniform discontent and boredom. All you had was Jack and the walls in which he had encapsulated you, all you had to look forward to was the hope that each day would somehow be a little less abysmal than the last.

However you had learned quickly that voicing too many complaints would only make things worse for you, leaving you to bite the bullet time and again in an effort to not set off this tyrant. If Jack was satiated, at least that meant you could achieve some normalcy in your daily life, even if it was just a crumb. Sacrificing your happiness and free-will had become the price you must pay to retain your sanity, to survive.

And now here you were, on one of his many forced check-ups that were scheduled far more frequently than was actually necessary. Your health had become his obsession, which you found rather peculiar given how much he seemed to disregard his own. Regardless, making sure you were fit and well was very important to him, much more so than looking after his own body. He poured himself into your maintenance with the gusto of a man whose life passion was fixing up old cars, making sure you were fine-tuned and running as you should, looking as pretty on the inside as the outside, it quickly became one of his greatest passions. After all, what was he to do if the love of his life fell ill with some mysterious wasting disease or ended up getting severely hurt? He refused to even entertain the thought of anything that could potentially end your life, and thus started going above and beyond to make sure you would be stuck with him for a very long time.

In all honesty, you usually didn’t mind the abundant health checks that much. It was a chance to get out of that god forsaken apartment he cooped you up in, and better yet, it offered rare moments where you could talk with other human beings without having Jack’s immense presence lingering over your shoulder.

But today was different. Today was the first time that you would be seen for something besides your normal check-up, instead partaking in a different kind of examination, one that was a bit more intimate than all the others previous.

Now that the two of you were sexually active (regardless of if that was something you had wanted and/or agreed to or not), Jack found it prudent that you start getting checkups that catered to those sexual proclivities. Thus, he wasted no time in setting up your first gynecological visit since he had taken you in, pleased with himself that he had the foresight to cover all of your medical bases. You guessed this new sudden fixation was his attempt to show you that in his own way he cared, that he wanted to do all he could to make sure you were healthy in every way you could be. But you also knew it was equally important to him to keep you in good physical condition from all the brutal fucking he had done to you, as you needed to be in one piece for when he continued to mercilessly ravage you in the future.

How thoughtful.

And when it came down to anything medical, Doctor Kureha seemed to be the only one Jack entrusted you with. It made sense to an extent, while Jack normally despised anyone but himself being in your presence, he was particularly adverse to people he didn’t already know. This went doubly for medical professionals that could very well be holding your life in their hands, he’d die before he let some unknown quack even breath in your general vicinity, let alone touch you.

But he knew Kureha and could personally vouch for his medical expertise, so in that regard making him your primary care physician was a no brainer. Deeper still, he could trust Kureha to not air his dirty laundry. The alarming signs of Jack’s passion that riddled your body would be a major red flag for any medical professional that saw them, and any outsider that spotted them would surely start asking questions the moment they laid eyes upon them. Only Kureha could be trusted to keep them mum, it was guaranteed. After all, if the good doctor even so much as made a suggestive comment to another person about the state you were in, Jack had more than enough dirt on the man to swiftly and efficiently end his career (and the muscle power to end his life, should it come to that).

Even with the questionable foundation of your relationship, you truly liked Kureha. You’d even go so far as to say that you considered him a friend, or at least as close to a friend as you can have under Jack’s suffocating surveillance. While going to a doctor’s office for any reason wasn’t particularly fun, you couldn’t help but begin to view the hospital where he worked as an oasis of sorts. It was clean, quiet, and within its glaringly white walls you could almost forget the nightmare your life had become, getting lost in the aseptic-ness of it all.

Kureha made pleasant company as well. You were weary of him at first, as it was hard not to be leery of any person Jack introduced to you. The fact that Jack willingly initiated an interaction between you and one of his associates was suspicious in and of itself, as prior to meeting Kureha he had never made any attempt to tell you about his friends, family, or anyone else that may be in his life.

When he explained that the person he wanted you to meet was a doctor, a specific image came to mind. Maybe they would be an older man, graying hair, kindly and smart. Picturing the mystery man as a fatherly type of figure made your heart hurt a bit, yearning for your own family that you had long since been exempt from seeing. These feelings also made you a bit eager to meet him, hoping to find comfort or camaraderie in this other person’s potentially trustworthy presence.

You certainly were not expecting the Adonis of a man who ended up greeting you.

The thing you recalled the most from your initial meeting with Kureha was how off-putting it was. His well-built, stocky body stood before you with an outstretched hand, his chiseled face framed in lusciously flowing auburn locks as his pouty, full lips offered a casual greeting. The polite smile that lit his criminally pretty face clashed heavily with the image you had pictured in your head, causing a brief moment of whiplash that left you speechless. The conflict between imagined and factual was so jarring in fact, that you nearly laughed out loud the moment you saw him, his strange presentation making you feel like you had wound up as the female lead of some kind of prime-time doctor drama. Appearance aside however, he was calm and mature, speaking to you like the intelligent adult you actually were, which was a breath of fresh air from the dismissive and childish treatment you typically received from Jack. Being in the presence of someone who treated you as an independent human had become a foreign feeling, but a welcome and celebrated one nonetheless.

As time passed and your visits to him grew more frequent, you began to see why Jack relied on Kureha so much. The doctor wasn’t just a pretty face, his medical prowess truly was top notch and he did an excellent job helping you monitor your health and kept you in good shape. His guidance and diagnosis were always spot on and easy to understand, and he had a way with words that made you comprehend his medical jargon without leaving you feeling like a dummy. It was by far the best medical assistance you had ever received, and you decided that should you one day be magically rid of Jack’s influence, it would be worth it to still seek out Kureha for any pending health concerns, even if it meant risking running into your brute of a captor.

But Doctor Kureha was not a gynecologist, and above all, he was a man. Why Jack, someone who was so painstakingly territorial of you, would pick a male to do this particular task was lost to you. Every OBGYN you had visited in the past had been a female doctor, and you honestly sort of preferred it that way. And though you voiced this to Jack, he remained adamant that since Kureha was already aware of your medical history, he was more than capable of taking care of this as well.

A nagging voice inside your brain kept telling you the REAL reason he was so bent on Kureha doing this procedure was to negate the risk it involved. Even if Kureha brought in another doctor who had reproductive health as their area of expertise, a doctor Kureha himself could vouch for that would keep their mouth shut, it was just too precarious of a situation for Jack’s liking. Any outside source that got up close and personal with your most abused area would realize instantly what Jack had been subjugating you to and their conscious could compel them to do something. The last thing Jack wanted was someone trying to play hero, and since Kureha had already seen the rest of the damage on your body and not said a word, it meant he was just as likely to stay silent when encountering the extent of defilement that had been inflicted on your more private areas.

You figured Jack and Kureha had some form of agreement between the two of them, that no matter how battered you came in to his office, nothing would be reported. You were not privy to the details of this agreement, nor did you know how formal it was. All you knew was that Kureha was always there to patch you up, keep you together, and offer a kind word or two, but he never made a move to try and remove you from the situation. No matter how perilous the aftermath appeared or how much your friendship progressed, he stayed in his lane and turned a blind eye to what mattered most.

So while you appreciated Kureha, you also realized you could never fully trust him.

“Well here we are again.”

Kureha’s entrance tore you from your thoughts, your eyes instantly darting to the stately man as he closed the door softly behind him. Looking as immaculate as ever, Kureha greeted Jack with a small nod before turning to you with a smile, which you reciprocated in kind. You couldn’t help but note the small scowl that sat upon Jacks lips, no doubt brought on by the familiarity the two of you shared.

“It’s good to see you again (Name),” he spoke as he made his way over to the seat beside you, waking up his computer so that he could access your medical records. “How long has it been? At least two days? That must be a new record.”

“Very funny,” Jack cut in, completely unamused by Kureha’s light teasing. He straightened his posture as much as the small room would allow, shooting the doctor a wry look. “We came here for a procedure, not your quips.”

Kureha sighed, “Of course, forgive me for trying to lighten the mood.” Turning his attentions back your way, he gave you another smile, “’Quips’ aside, how have you been feeling (name)? It really hasn’t been that long since our last appointment, was there anything particular that sparked the need for this visit today, or…?”

His voice trailed off, as he was already well aware this meeting was most likely not of your own choosing, but another of Jack’s heavy handed assertions. You squirmed on the medical chair, the protective paper beneath your rear irritating the bare flesh it came in contact with.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, Jack spoke on your behalf.

“She is fine,” his words were clipped and to the point, “As stated, we came here for a simple procedure as part of a routine check-up. I think we would both appreciate it if you just got on with it.”

“Yes, I am sure you would,” Kureha scoffed, slight irritation reflected in his voice, “But I was not addressing you Jack, I was asking (Name). And contrary to your beliefs, she will have a more accurate synapsis of what is going on with her own body than you will.”

Jack huffed, puffing up his chest in indignation. But he remained silent, promptly shut up by Kureha’s firm statement. For that alone you could kiss him.

“I’m feeling alright,” you respond simply, “the same as always, more or less... I don’t mean to be rude Dr. Shinogi, but this time Jack is right. I am kind of in a hurry to get this over with.” You frowned, repositioning yourself on the crinkly paper seat once more. “These kinds of visits aren’t my favorite.”

A blush crept on your cheeks as you spoke the words, embarrassed by your own admission. As if this whole ordeal wasn’t invasive enough, you also couldn’t avoid the fact that this was one of your least favorite medical procedures of all time.  Spreading yourself open for the whole world to see, perched on an uncomfortable chair while you awkwardly draped yourself across its stiff foamy surface, feet held back in stirrups as a doctor scraped away at your insides haphazardly, none of it was an enjoyable experience for you. The mere thought made you want to clamp your legs shut and scuttle out of the office, bee lining it straight back to the train station. You never thought you would long for the solitude of Jacks stuffy abode, but there was a first time for everything.

It also didn’t help that Jack refused to budge, adamant he stick around for the whole procedure. Knowing that he would be in the room, looming in the background as he bore witness to the whole excruciating ordeal, just made it THAT much worse.

Kureha acknowledged you with a hum, “Well if it’s any reassurance, I plan to make this as painless and as quick as possible. I can’t imagine that any of this is particularly pleasant for you, so I can understand where your reservations are coming from.”

He turned to Jack, shooting him a knowing look, “And though I am beyond confident in my doctoral abilities, I would like to remind the intrusive party in this room that this particular request is not my area of expertise. I will be efficient and gentle with miss (Name), but I may lack the accuracy of an expert in the field. Disclaimer aside, I would appreciate it if back seat commentary is kept to a minimum.”

“As long as you don’t waste any time and do the job well, you won’t be giving me a reason to voice any complaints,” Jack’s clipped voice threatened, “Now, can we begin please?”

Kureha’s eyes met yours, “Whenever you are ready, place our feet in the stirrups. We’ll proceed from there.”

Taking a deep breath to ground yourself, your shaky legs parted, granting Kureha access so that the procedure could begin. His large hands guided your legs into the holsters with ease, and he shot you one last reassuring smile before he grabbed his tools.

“I’d offer you a blanket for some privacy,” Kureha’s kept his voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “But our guest made it abundantly clear that he wanted to see what I am doing at all times. I apologize.”

You gave a curt nod, acknowledging his apology as earnest, but also realizing the good doctor had done nothing but enable Jack’s uncouth behavior this entire time. Not that it mattered at this point, all you could pray was that he at least remained true to his promise of speed and efficiency.

“Just hurry up. Please.”

With no further prodding, Kureha set to work. You cringed as you felt cold steel begin to spread you, your discomfort mounting when his tools entered shortly after. Jack pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer so that he could get a better view of what was being done to your body. Bending down so he could monitor Kureha’s actions accordingly, you squeezed your eyes tightly closed, refusing to add Jack’s beady, unwavering stare to your torment.

As warned, Kureha was not as skilled in this field as you would have liked. His typically nimble fingers seemed to fumble with the tools in hand, the prodding and clawing at your delicate insides causing tears to spring to your eyes. In an effort to keep from crying out you bit into your bottom lip, gnawing at the reddened flesh to quiet yourself. However squeaks of discomfort still managed to slip from your throat, sharp intakes of breath punctuating his hasty motions. Sweaty fists balled around the gaudy surgical gown, tugging it so roughly you could feel the fabric give under the strain. A particularly rough jerk of Kureha’s hand sent a wave of pain through you, your whimpers becoming a full on groan. Reflexively your legs tried to snap shut, your body subconsciously trying to push itself as far from the doctor as you could get, inching up the table in an effort to escape.

“You’re hurting her.

Jack’s growl cut through the air, an edge to it warning Kureha to watch himself. Kureha clicked his tongue, shooting a quick look over his shoulder.

“I wasn’t joking about the back seat commentary,” he retorted, “I’m aware of her irritation, hence why I am moving as fast as I can. I would advise against distracting me further to make the process as easy as possible for her,” he sighed deeply, fixing his attention back your way, “Besides, from the looks of things down here it’s clear she has suffered worse. I would even hazard the reason it hurts her so bad right now is in no small part your fault.”

Jack snarled, intense anger radiating from his presence as he leered over the doctor. It was obvious Kureha’s words had cut deep, the unspoken rule that he never judge Jack’s actions easily broken by his barbed statement. Finally turning your attention to Jack, you grimaced as your squinting eyes watched him open his mouth, primed to release a fiery retort.

“I’m fine,” your sharp voice interrupted their banter, words strained as they were forced from your clenched jaw, “Please, please, just hurry up.”

Kureha’s expression shifted, a softer look flitting across his features as your plea dragged him back to the matter at hand, “I apologize (Name), that was childish way to respond, please forgive me. We are nearly done. Please just hang in there a moment longer.”

True to his words, after a few quick swipes (all of which when executed brought about varying degrees of soreness), the procedure concluded.  You had never been happier to close your legs in your entire life (and given your life’s circumstances, that was saying something).

“And we’re done,” Kureha exhaled, quickly clearing his tools away. He shot you a quick smile as he got to his feet, “You did very well, (Name). I’m sorry my touch wasn’t the softest this go-around, but I appreciate what a good sport you were through the entire procedure. You may bleed for a bit afterwards, which is quite normal. Though it may be hard for the two of you, try and lay off any strenuous activity to the area for at least a day or two, alright?”

A bright blush illuminated your cheeks the moment the words left his lips. Whether he meant them to be or not, they felt mocking and derisive, and hearing them left you feeling as if you were both an ill-tempered child who no one expected to make it through such a procedure with so little fuss, and some manner of sex-crazed harlot that couldn’t go a day without getting any.

“You sure love to talk, don’t you?” Jacks gruff voice chided, making it apparent that Kureha’s loaded words still bothered him. The air between the two of them remained charged with a bristling, negative energy, but with the ordeal finally over with, Jack’s rage was slightly beginning to subside. No doubt he was just pleased that he could finally take you home and have you all to himself. “Are you such an accusatory smartass to all your patients?”

“Just the ones I really like,” Kureha shot him a smug grin, causing Jack’s jaw to clench, “but I am serious. Definitely no sexual activity tonight and tomorrow as well, if you can stand it.”

Kureha reached out his hand, placing it firmly atop your head, giving it a small scrub. “And I mean it when I said you did well. I couldn’t have asked for a better patient! If I had a lollipop or something to give you right now to congratulate you, I most certainly would.”

He laughed at his own joke, but the sound of it only caused your ego to suffer more.

Curling in on yourself to hide your vulnerable state, you shook your head to dispel Kureha’s unwanted attention. Your words came out icy as you shot the two men an equally chilling look. “I don’t need hollow praise, I just need some privacy so I can change back into my normal clothes.” When both men refused to budge, instead staring at you blankly with wide eyes suggesting your frosty demeanor shocked them, you sighed in annoyance, “Please?”

Kureha was the first to comply, turning on his heel to briskly head towards the exit. On his way out, he motioned towards jack, signaling him to follow. “Come on Jack, it’s rude to make a lady beg.”

Jack hesitated a moment before following suit, his hulking form stopping momentarily in the door way to address you one final time.

“Just be quick about it. I want to get you out of here and back home as quickly as possible.”

Hopping to your feet, you made your way over to your rumpled clothing that sat discarded on one of the uninviting metal waiting room chairs. You rolled your eyes as you snatched them up, impatiently waiting for Jack to step away so you could finally get out of the thin gown that covered you.

“You and me both,” you murmured under your breath, stuffing your lower half into your pants as fast as physically possible, “If I never have to go through this again, it would be too soon.”

~

You were thankful that the train was nearly empty when you boarded it, making it easy to find a space in the back that was far removed from other passengers. Though you would typically revel in this opportunity to be amongst other people, right now the only thing you wanted was to be left alone.

The office was not terribly far from where you lived, so Jack usually opted to walk to the hospital instead of taking any transport. But today’s trip had worn you out and left you feeling sore and irritable, so while  he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of public transportation (too many eyes on you he’d say, even though it was his stature that drew the true attention), in an act of mercy he offered the train as a means of getting home. Of course he had offered to just carry you home first, but the look you gave him at the suggestion was enough to wise him up, bringing up the train as a happy alternative. Thankful to finally have a place to sit and enjoy some quiet for a moment, the tension in your body began to lessen, and you felt as if at least momentarily you could begin to relax.

… At least, you wished you could relax. Jack’s towering form, which was already a suffocating presence in and of itself, was even more smothering as he sat directly beside you. You were wedged in between him and the window, his broad shoulders and spread legs cramping your already limited space. If his bouncing leg and repeated exhales weren’t enough of a giveaway that something was bothering him, the muscled arms petulantly crossed over his chest and a deep set scowl on his face as he shot you numerous hurried glances really brought the fact home.

At first you tried to ignore him, but as the minutes ticked by it became clear to you he wasn’t going to bring up the issue himself, nor was he going to drop the matter and leave you be. This left you with no other choice besides confrontation.

“What is it,” the irritation was clear in your voice as you questioned him. “This whole adventure was your idea, and now it’s bothering you? If you hated the outcome so much, why make me go?”

“I didn’t hate the outcome,” he responded, shifting a bit in his seat as he cleared his throat, “It was a necessary procedure and I am glad we had it done. I’m pleased that you seem more or less healthy down there.”

You scoffed at Jack’s interpretation of Kureha’s assessment of the damage his ‘love’ had done to your body, a reaction he chose to ignore as he continued, “But still, I guess maybe I did have my concerns.”

“…Concerns?”

 You perked up, taken aback by his words. The way he spoke them sounded borderline remorseful,  as if being faced with the irrefutable proof of how violently he has treated you, witnessing firsthand the lasting injury his careless assaults have caused and the suffering that has come with it, began to open his eyes. Could he finally be feeling remorse? Could this day of suffering and embarrassment truly have ended up having such a silver lining?

Several agonizing seconds passed as you hung on baited breath, excited for the first time in a long time to hear what Jack had to say.

“It’s just…” His voice trailed off for moment, his expression contorting in a display of varying emotions, musing over how to word his response. After another brief moment of silence he continued with a sigh, tripping over his tense words awkwardly, as if he were embarrassed to speak them.

“It’s just that when he was working on you … Well, the expressions you made when he was going inside of you… They were the same ones you sometimes make when we are making love, so I was concerned maybe you were, you know… enjoying it.”

As you noted the barely perceptible blush that flushed Jacks cheeks throughout his explanation, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Internally screaming, you chided yourself. What a fool you were, thinking you may actually be receiving an honest apology from this man.

Anger began to creep over you, causing your body to slightly quake. You grimaced as his words stewed in your head, the absurdity of his misconception causing your world to spin. Of course you would be making the same expression when he fucked you as you did at the doctors office- the extreme and unwanted discomfort from either act was one in the same. Only an idiot like Jack would come to the conclusion that your face was contorted in a look of ecstasy instead of the agony you were actually experiencing, lying there spread eagle on the doctors table while you were being chiseled away at.

“No Jack,” you spat at him, seething words to match the daggers shooting from your eyes, “I did not fucking get off at my gyno appointment when Kureha was shoving clamps and other utensils up inside my body, picking away at my innards so he could get tissue samples. Sorry to let you down, but it wasn’t really my idea of a sexy encounter, asshole.”

As you were about to boil over with barely contained rage, you mirrored Jack by crossing your arms, doing your best to hold yourself together as you averted your gaze from him. Keeping things civil was tremendously hard, but you were smart enough to realize causing a scene in public would in no way help you right now.

After several moments of silence had passed, your eyes flicked to Jack’s reflection in the mirror, hoping to gauge his emotional state after your tempestuous outburst. He typically didn’t take kindly to your attitude, especially when it was coupled with name calling. Surely the venom you spewed wouldn’t be taken sitting down, and while the thought of an angry Jack usually terrified you, today you couldn’t make yourself care. In fact, you hoped your small tantrum HAD upset him, wanting him to feel a smidge of the pain he forced you through daily. You may not be able to ever harm Jack physically, but if there was one thing you did have power over, it was his feelings. Despite his tough persona, you were acutely aware that any malice you directed his way wounded him, causing him more grief than he would ever willingly state. And you suspected that this display of your lividity was the perfect attack to take him down a few pegs.

But surprise took you when your eyes landed on his likeness, seeing that instead of an angry glower or wounded frown, a content smile sat upon his lips. His tensed shoulders had relaxed, his entire posture now much more poised and at ease as he sat next to you. He even lazily draped an arm over the back of your seat, his fingers idily stretching out to play with any rogue strands of your hair they brushed against.

“Good,” he spoke pleasantly, “Glad to know I have nothing to worry about. I’ll just have to work harder next time to make you really lose yourself, so you can show me expressions only I will ever see. That way there will be no confusion in the future.”

Your frown deepened as the shit eating grin spreading across his lips grew. It seemed that this time, as always, Jack had won.

“Of course we’ll have to wait a day or two for me to hone my skill, which is unfortunate. But look at the bright side baby, gives me time to come up with some new ideas that will really drive you wild, right?”

God you hated him.

[ladykailitha]

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 1

Just dipping my toe into the shovel talks trend.

*

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve turned around and Jonathan frowned. Steve’s eyes were puffy and his nose was red. “Oh, hey, man. What’s up?”

Jonathan could tell he was trying not to wipe the obvious tears from his face. As if that wouldn’t draw attention to them.

“I wanted to talk to you about you and Eddie’s relationship--”

Steve crumpled. That was the only way to describe it. The man was barely holding it together as it was, but it seemed that that was straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Look, I get it,” Steve snapped. “Don’t break Eddie’s heart. It sooo soft and I’m suuuuch a bitch. I don’t need the shovel talk from you.” The last word was said with such venom, Jonathan was forced to take a step back.

“Who’s been giving you shovel talks?” he asked.

Steve threw his arms in the air. “It would be easier to list off who hasn’t. The Byers family and El, only I can’t say that because you’re here. So just Will, your mom, and El.”

Jonathan frowned. “Even Robin?” Because that didn’t sound right. He had seen the two of them together and they were like freakishly close.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve snarled bitterly. “That’s the latest one. The one that makes me just want to throw myself into the god damn pool.”

Well, shit.

“Apparently this is Eddie first real relationship and since being gay is so hard right now, breaking his heart would be a disservice to humankind,” Steve mocked. “I asked her about my heart and my first relationship with a guy. But apparently that is as important as Eddie’s experience.”

Now that? Jonathan didn’t believe. But Steve was clearly hurt and was being dramatic about it. Which he was going to allow because holy shit.

But apparently Steve was just getting started. “At least Eddie’s friends all showed up together to give one shovel talk so that was nice. Hop and Wayne each did it while cleaning their hunting rifles, like they weren’t terrifying enough. I mean Mike’s an ass, so his I could brush off, but Dustin and Erica? Why does Eddie get more loyalty from them when I literally saved their lives? But Lucas and Max also double teamed me, so that was all sorts of fun. Nancy casually brought up that she has three guns now. So yeah, just get it over with so I can go back to being the worst boyfriend in Hawkins!”

Jonathan forced him to sit down. “That was a lot to unpack, I’m not going to lie. But take a deep breath for me, can you do that?”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath.

“Now let it out slow,“ Jonathan continued. Steve followed his instruction. “Great now keep doing that until your heart no longer feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.”

Steve started breathing more normally and Jonathan sat next to him. “I’m not actually here for a shovel talk. I was wondering if you or Eddie would be willing to talk to Will about liking boys.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s going through a really hard time with it right now,” Jonathan explained. “And I’m not really getting through to him because I’m straight and it’s pretty much meaningless coming from me.”

“Oh.”

“But no, I get your reaction, dude,” he said. “I really do. Has anyone given Eddie the shovel talk?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I can ask, is it? ‘Oh hey, Eddie, anyone threaten your life over our relationship lately. No, no, not homophobes, I mean our friends? No? Well that’s just peachy!’“

Jonathan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no matter how you phrase that it’s going to come off as bitchy. Especially if no one has.”

Steve nodded.

“Look, if you talk to Will for me,” Jonathan said, “I’ll talk to Eddie. Deal?”

Steve looked at the hand for a moment before he shook it. “Deal.”

*

Jonathan knocked on the Munson’s door. Eddie opened it with a look of surprise.

“Look, man,” Eddie said with a sigh. “I don’t sell anymore. And besides your friend from Cali has better stuff.”

Jonathan held up his prized. “Oh, I’m aware, I’m offering to share.”

Eddie looked at him for a moment and then closed the door behind him. “Yeah, okay.”

Jonathan lit two blunts and passed one to Eddie.

Eddie took a drag and sighed. “Shit this stuff is good.”

Jonathan just smiled.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the share, man,” Eddie said after a few minutes, “but why are you here?”

“I went over to Steve’s to ask him if he would be willing to talk to Will for me,” he said after taking a drag.

“Because your brother is gayer then the May pole?” Eddie supplied.

“Yup,” he replied. “Only our Stevie wasn’t doing so good.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “What?!”

Jonathan tugged on his pant leg. “Sit down, dude. Let me explain before you go off half cocked and make things worse.”

Eddie sat down with a grumble. “You better start talking and you better do it fast.”

“In my experience shovel talks are for people you don’t trust not for people you care about,” Jonathan said slowly. “Only it seems our friends didn’t get the memo.”

“People have been giving Steve the shovel talk?” Eddie asked, eyes wide, jutting his chin forward in shock. “But no one’s said shit to me!”

Jonathan winced. “That’s kinda what me and Steve were afraid of.”

Eddie felt his heart sink to his stomach. “Do you--did he say how long it’s been going on?”

Jonathan shook his head. “But the fact that only my house and El haven’t given him the shovel talk I would probably bet since you two announced your relationship.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered. “I bet the first two were funny, endearing even. Steve likes that kind of stuff. And then as it kept happening...”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “Has he been distant lately?”

Eddie closed his eyes and nodded. “Now I know why.” He thought for a moment. “Is there a way to call everyone together without alerting Steve, too?”

Jonathan shrugged. “If his boyfriend were to ‘accidentally’ turn off the walkie for an hour for some hot makeup sex...”

Eddie laughed. “I can absolutely do that.”

“I’ll set it up,” Jonathan said. He flicked the remainder of his blunt to the ground and stood up to grind it out under his boot.

*

Dang it, this was getting longer than I planned, but I’ll put out a part two later.

Edit: and it’s later! And part three! Part four and Part FIVE! Part Six!!!

[fairydares]

loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.

[soubeomies]

꒰୨୧◞ ₊˚ 𝓘‘𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾

⤷ 𝓟𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ﹕ leehan x fem!reader

⤷ 𝓦𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ﹕ nothing i think!!

⤷ 𝓖𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ﹕ angst, fluff

⤷ 𝓦𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝓒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ﹕ 723

⤷ 𝓐𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝓝𝗈𝗍𝖾 ﹕ me when me when me wh m :(

⤷ 𝓢𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ﹕ you loved leehan, though you wonder if he’d leave. in which results in you avoiding him in hopes to avoid getting hurt.

oh how much you loved him. being with leehan feels like a warm shower after a long and exhausting day. he always made you feel better, no matter the situation. whether you were feeling down, or low on social battery.. he always finds a way to make a smile appear on your pretty face.

but you were doubtful. you’ve never experienced anything like this. no, you’ve never experienced anyone like him. you didn’t know if you wanted to believe it, you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. leehan? love you? those words don’t go together. at least that’s what you thought.

you liked him, you were more than happy that you were this close to him. but should you really be? what if he just ends up leaving you like everyone else does? you don’t want to feel that pain again.

but little did you know, he felt completely different. he loves you, he loves you so much. he knows you’ve never been treated the way he treats you. which makes it even more special, he wants to be your first and your last. he wants to be the man of your dreams, he wants to be everything and anything for you.

meanwhile, everything you were thinking about were just ways that could it go wrong. it felt.. unreal. you don’t believe it yet, and you think you’ll never believe it. you don’t believe how much he loves you. nobody has loved you genuinely, what makes him different?

꒰ ׂ ♡.

so then it starts, you let your emotions take over you. you let that small voice in your head control you, and all it was telling you was to avoid leehan. avoid getting hurt again. you don’t want it to happen again, do you?

sure, it hurt you. but you assured yourself it would hurt more if he left, it would hurt more to know he was lying all this time.

꒰ ׂ ♡.

making your way down the hallways, carrying that same feeling of gloominess ever since you started avoiding leehan. it feels like a star has just been removed from the sky, the star in your life has just been removed and it hurts you.

“y/n.” you feel a hand on your shoulder. that voice. the voice you were oh-so-familiar with, the voice you missed, the voice you’ve been avoiding.

you try walking away. abruptly stopping as his hand yanks you back and forces you to face him. “what is it y/n? why have you been avoiding me like your damn life depends on it..” he questions you, a tinge of pure sadness in his voice.

your heart sinks at the question, was it really that obvious? you think to yourself. “me? avoid you? ahahah! no! i’ve just been bus—“ you say as you try to make up an excuse, being cut off not long after. “stop making excuses! i know you’re lying y/n. please, please tell me what i did wrong.” he sounded desperate. his voice went as far as to cracking as he pleaded for you to tell him what was going on.

all you can do is stare at him blankly, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “.. i can’t lose you, y/n. i'll do anything, please just don’t leave.”

leave? that was the last thing you wanted to do. all you wanted was to be with him, but you just let your stupid insecurities come over you. you can’t help but feel a tears run down your face. you wiped your tears before subconsciously sobbing.

seeing you in this state, he can’t begin to explain how deep his heart sank. he wraps his hands around you, your face buried in the fabric of his soft jacket. inhaling his smell, savoring his presence. he felt just like home.

“i’m sorry leehan.” you manage to choke out in between sobs, “all i was trying to do was to not lose you. i thought you would leave me, so i just distanced myself in hopes to save me the pain.” you admit, letting your tears soak into his jacket.

you hear a sigh from him, “leave you?” he asks as if it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. “i love you, y/n. i’ve always loved you, and that’ll never change.”

“i’ll never leave.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ networks : @kstrucknet @k-nets

© soubeomies 2024 all rights reserved ♡ do not copy/repost my works.

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack, rejection word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> jake caused trouble not only to his soulmate but to his friends. is it wrong for wishing to things to be like the past? especially when in another life he was a knight for the princess?

jake’s perspective

Niki and I silently walked back to the door. Did we hear cries? Or was that all in my head…

“Jake! Niki!” Sooha said and I saw her face was filled with worry. “What happened?” I asked her and she didn’t know. 

“She rejected them again,” Jay said and I felt myself freeze again. I got carried away with what I did… but seeing Jungwon in the same state he was after the party and now Sunoo sobbing I felt guilty.

“I didn’t mean to,” I muttered out loud.

“Everything is your fault,” Niki muttered and I shook my head… I didn’t mean to hurt her, I just wanted her to be nicer to Sooha. So everything would be like it was before–

“Why would you ever do that?!” I was suddenly pinned against the wall by Heeseung. “Huh?” I said as I tried getting out of his grip…

“She has every right to hate every single one of us! To hate Sooha! But you? You ruined Jungwon’s and Sunoo’s wishes of being with their soulmate… Sunghoon’s chance to talk to her again, Niki’s chance to even try!” he scolded and they looked at me. 

“How bad is it?” he asked me and I shook my head. “I don’t know… I just wanted to scare her a bit! I didn’t mean to burn–” I got cut off by him slamming me again to the wall.

“You didn’t mean to! Jake, you've been learning to control for a reason!” he scolded me and I shook my head… It was an accident.

“Heeseung let him go!” Sooha came to my rescue… “Even I care… and I rejected her first. I at least have the decency to know she hates me and has every right to,” he said as he let me go. 

“What happened?” Jay asked and Heeseung and Niki looked at me.

“He threatened her and burned her” Heeseung answered and Jungwon and Sunoo rushed at me only for Sooha to stand in front of me and defend me… she was still on my side. 

“You’re the most blinding one of us all,” Heeseung said but I shook my head.

I loved Sooha... was that so bad?

heeseung’s perspective

Dealing with Sunghoon was a hassle now all three of them were rejected?

I was taking president duties and hoped to speak with y/n when I was stopped from even entering the Bright Sun and Riverfield room by K.

“Get out of my way,” I said and he scoffed. “So you can hurt her too? She’s not here… Wonyoung is,” he answered… Why wasn’t she here?

“Don’t try reading anyone’s mind… Wonyoung had someone put a barrier up where vampires can’t use powers in here anymore” 

“What Jake did was out of bounds, I just want to apologize–” “I’m gonna be honest with you… at the mention of any of you, she flinches. She’s a strong witch, but she’s weak compared to you. She’s a blood witch… she can’t do any spells against vampires. Now even her own soulmate attacked her?” he said and he pointed at me to leave. 

I was when I saw her. We made eye contact when I noticed her eyes trembling… She was scared of me.

She left hurriedly… How were we gonna fix this?

The next day wasn’t any better… Sunoo and Jungwon were worse than Sunghoon… Probably cause they already bonded with her

Jake still doesn’t feel remorse… he’s upset he lost control but not for who it damaged.

He’s convinced that the three rejected soulmates will get better… he wants us to be with Sooha like we were before meeting Riverfield

I wonder how he’d feel knowing her soulmate was K… “Again?” He asked and I sighed. I stood in front of the bright sun and IST council wanting to reason things out.

“Why are you the one here? You rejected her first?” He asked and I scoffed of course he knew about this… K was always in everything.

“Jungwon, Sunoo, and Sunghoon are all in pain… Jungwon and Sunoo love her and they—“ “Don’t you think you’re missing someone?” He asked and I was confused…

“y/n got rejected by Jake… she can’t do magic, she’s terrified of the vampire council, and she quit the witch council,” he said and I couldn’t believe that…

“Why would she quit? She’s been leading the—“ “How can she face any of you after her own soulmate attacked her?! She can’t defend herself against you! Just because she’s top of her class doesn’t make her the strongest now because of the merge you idiot!” He yelled and he was right…

Any werewolf or vampire could overpower a witch… a repeat of history. 

“K what— why are you here?” Wonyoung soon came out and glared at me. “How is sh—“ “Horrible” she interrupted.

“Look I just want her to maybe talk to Jungwon and Sunoo they—“ “No. Not after that bastard burned her claiming to stay away from all of you! She’s only protecting herself… it’s not like any soulmate bond will work if all of you constantly reject her,” she said as she slammed the door.

I was walking to my dorm when I heard sobs… I looked at where they were coming from… her dorm

I knocked and she slightly opened it to close it again. “I’m sorry for what he did… he wasn’t meant to hurt you. But Jungwon and Sunoo miss you… you bonded with them surely you miss them? Sunghoon he’s been like this since you rejected him weeks ago… and Niki completely lost his chance. Please y/n?” I pleaded and she opened the door.

Her face was puffy and her cheeks stained by her tears… her neck was wrapped in bandages.

“Why did he have to attack me?” She asked softly and I shook my head… I didn’t know what to say… when a soulmate hurts their soulmate it hurts so much more than it normally would

Burns already hurt added to the bond hurting also was painful

I tried getting closer to her when she only got away from me… “I'm sorry” was all I could say and she chuckled… “Why do you care? You rejected me t–” “Just because I did doesn’t mean I don’t care. I can't help that I love Sooha… but I don’t want to see you in pain because one of us' ' I confessed and she shook her head. 

“No matter what I'll be inferior to her '' she cried and I shook my head… “Stop thinking what he said… it's not true.” I begged… she kept going into her head that she was being used by us, that we’ll only ever love Sooha.

“Go away” she said and I would’ve if I didn’t see her tears fall down her cheek.

I got close enough to hug her and she flinched at first before choking on her sobs.

“I’m sorry”

I kept petting her hair as she slept when I saw two witches with food and ice cream now glare at me… yelling curses in their heads, quite literally curses.

“I know what Jake did was wrong, she doesn’t deserve to be told she's inferior to Sooha nor get third-degree burns and a broken soulmate bond. Jungwon and Sunoo are getting worse every day. They won't eat. and if they don't, they’ll lose control and attack a student. Sunghoon won’t either and his wolf has been fighting him yelling at him nonstop and he’s beyond tired,” I said and they sighed.

“She hasn’t slept since she rejected those two…” Eunchae said and I sighed. “Why do you guys love Sooha so much? What does she have that y/n doesn’t?” Wonyoung asked and I sighed…

“Do you know the story of the seven vampire knights?” I asked and they nodded. “Sooha is the reincarnated princess of those seven knights… and I'm one of the reincarnated vampires,” I confessed and they were shocked.

“But they were soulmates in their past life?” Eunchae asked and I shook my head. “They weren’t… but the seven knights loved her like she was. Her soulmate was originally a werewolf and they were never together. Everyone in that story in to be reincarnated and given peace in their new life” I confessed and they sighed

“So you love Sooha… because you knew her even in your past life?” Euncahe asked and I didn’t know how to answer. 

“I do, but seeing y/n in pain seems to hurt more than when Sooha cried in my arms. I know it's the soulmate bond trying to revive itself but… it's better that we aren’t together. Look at what getting in her life has done?” I said as I looked at the witch sleeping soundly on me. 

“But she’s your soulmate, '' Eunchae said and I smiled. 

“Which is why I’d rather her be safe than happy”

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[scarletcomet]

the mental illness is making me very mentally ill today

[recklesssturniolo]

Ruined - M.S

Angst, no smut triplets ghost their best friend after being in LA for 5 months, Nate’s makes an appearance in this but main focus is Matt, not a happy ending soz, I just randomly wrote this so if it’s shit that’s why

“Nate you owe me for this I swear to god” I groan as I stepped out of the car.

Nate had dragged me to a party, practically begging me for the last couple days to go with him.

“I knowww” He sings back, a grin on his face.

I shake my head and walk inside with him, him immediately dragging me towards our friends. All of us talk as the party continues around us, my eyes rolling every time I watched Nate take another shot knowing this was going to be a long night.

Taking a look around the room, my eyes land on three familiar faces. All but one with a drink in their hand. All laughing as they spoke to one another and others around them. Why the fuck are they here? Since when were they even back from LA?

“Nate” I yell over the music, pulling him towards me by his arm.

“What’s up?” He asks.

“What the fuck are they doing here?” I ask, his eyes widening telling me he was more than aware that they’d be here.

“I uh - I don’t know” He mumbles.

“You knew didn’t you? That they’d be here” I question, my eyes narrowing at him.

“Kinda?” He replies clearly trying to avoid saying the full truth.

“Fuck you Nate, take an Uber home” I growl.

Turning away from Nate I make my way towards the front door. My heart pounds in my chest as my attempt to leave becomes difficult due to the amount of people.

Finally outside, I take a deep breath. My mind still spinning with questions. Practically running towards my car, I freeze after my names called. I knew who it was. I didn’t have to turn around to know. It was Matt.

“Please just wait a second” He yells out his footsteps becoming louder.

“No, no Matt leave me the fuck alone” I reply, my body turning to face him.

“I need - we need to talk to you” He says, his words drawing my attention to his two brothers on the porch.

“Talk to me? You’ve had 5 months to talk to me. 5 months. But no, not a single word, not a text, call, I got nothing” I reply, anger more than present in my voice.

“You have to hear us out, we thought it’d be best for you” He replies.

“Best for me? Are you all insane? You thought making a fake promise to stay in contact was a good thing? Making me slowly lose all of you?” I ask.

“No - I - it isn’t like that” He begins.

“Oh it’s not? What was it like then? Did you sit for months and wonder what the fuck you did wrong to make your best friends want nothing to do with you? No. None of you did, instead you had the time of your lives” I reply, my voice raising.

“I know it might not make sense right now, but we didn’t want you to hurt more by missing us so we thought no contact at least until we got back was a better idea” Nick speaks, my eyes flickering over to him.

“Nick’s serious. We were trying to do what was best. We didn’t want you sitting around and waiting for us” Chris adds in.

“You’re all delusional if you think that makes any sense” I respond, “I sat around for weeks just hoping for anything from one of you. God I tried begging Nate to ask you guys what I did wrong, I was miserable and I had to pick myself back up and move on with my life”

“We’d check in on you through Nate. Please we know you and we just - it was stupid but we thought we were doing the right thing” Nick said.

“You know me? It’s been 5 months, you don’t know me - not anymore. Hell maybe you didn’t know me at all if you thought what you did was the right thing” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek as I felt tears threatening to well up in my eyes.

“Fuck sakes, let’s just go guys I told you this wasn’t going to go well” Matt says, turning and beginning to walk to his car.

A sarcastic laugh leaves my mouth before I talk, “There you go Matt walk away, not the first time. You must be real good at it by now”

Tears form in my eyes at the familiar sight in front of me, him walking away just as he did at the airport - except this time there was no hug, and no wave goodbye.

“Did you know I loved you?” I yell, his body stiffening as he took in my words. Turning around his eyes pierce into mine, a hint of sadness within them.

“You knew” I said, tears streaming down my face as the realization set in. He knew the entire time and still cut me off with no remorse.

“Not at first. A couple months after we left Nate told me, he told me how you were going to tell me at the airport before we left” He said.

My breath hitched in my throat as I desperately tried to think of a response.

“Fuck you Matt” I yelled, walking closer to him, “Fuck you fuck you fuck you”

“Can you just - fuck listen to me for a second” He yells out.

“What? What could you possibly have to say?” I ask.

Each second that passes feels like hours, the want to walk away from him getting stronger the longer he stayed silent.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up to you. I had typed shit out so many times but I couldn’t ever bring myself to send it” He breathes out.

I stand there, my eyebrows furrowed as I wiped away my tears.

“I already had to lose not just you, but your brothers once. I’m not doing it again. I’m not going through any of this shit again” I say, my voice quiet now as I continued to realize he didn’t love me back, wishing I hadn’t said I loved him out loud, “Keep doing what you were and don’t contact me”

I now was the one walking away. I couldn’t do it again. Not after I had spent weeks crying over him - and his brothers to Nate. After he’d broke my heart and knowing now that he knew he did.

“I fucking love you okay? I knew I did before we left but I wasn’t about to tell you to then just leave. None of this was supposed to hurt you, it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way” I heard Matt yell.

Turning around one last time, my hand on the car door handle, I sighed before talking, “You ruined what could’ve been a really good thing. I spent months heartbroken over you. You don’t get to come back and think everything would just magically be okay. I love you, but I sure as hell don’t want to”

TAGLIST: @thatonekid536 @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @sturniolosreads @yesterdaysproblem @freshloveforthefit @thecynthh @m4tthewsgf @meerkatzthings @creamoncreamoncream2 @avasturn @ssturniolo92 @slut4chr1s @dev-speaks @freshlovehacker @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @mattnchrisworld @sturnioloenthusiast @ashleighpray23 @leah-loves-lilies @athaliahxoxo @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @udonotknowme @sophssturn

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Thirteen

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

A/N: i know, i know. it took way too long for me to post this, but I'm back again

WORD COUNT: 1345

TW: mentions of death, mattheo's nightmare and memories

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dividers by @chachachannah

The remaining days of the winter break after Mattheo's birthday seem to drag me into a peaceful routine that becomes familiar by the end of it; Mattheo plays a big part in this routine, as it is technically only him I spend time with during this period. Kiara, well, got wrapped up in Theo's sheets again. Sometimes we have these days where we're barely in contact. It's like taking family leave from work. This week is one of those. We don't even meet in the Great Hall at breakfast since she messed up her sleep schedule again; waking up at four and going to sleep at four is her new profession, to say the least. Sometimes I feel like she's in a different timezone.

My daily routine, on the other hand, is different from hers: I have breakfast with Mattheo, sometimes with him and Theo when the latter can make it out of bed before Ki, study a bit afterwards (mostly with Mattheo sitting opposite me at the table in the library, trying to distract me), and then have lunch (the guy threatening me to stuff the food down my throat), and basically spend the rest of the day with him, with occasional outings to Hogsmeade, visiting the Black Lake, or making mixtapes in either of us' rooms.

And the bad thing is, that however much I enjoy his company, I'm growing too attached. I have attachment issues, that's for sure, making a very nice combo with my problem of trusting people and letting them in, but Mattheo somehow dodged and still dodges all those walls I tried to build around myself, just how I tried getting through his. Fortunately, successfully.

Last night, he had another nightmare. He hadn't had a single one during the break, fortunately, spared his birthday too, but he didn't have that luck yesterday. It hurts to see him like that: dishevelled, sweaty and with fear evident in his eyes – yet he manages to climb the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower, and up to my room, even if he sometimes seems lunatic in his walk.

"I saw him again–"

"He... attacked me–"

"Unforgivable curse–"

"I disappointed him–"

"Don't tell Theo..."

His words still echo in my mind, even as I roll over in the morning to tuck him in better. He always sleeps so peacefully after a nightmare; his facial muscles relax and he stops frowning his brows, and I can't help but want to reach out to touch the scar across his right eyebrow, to trace down along it. God, he's so gorg–

What?

No.

I suddenly shake my head, almost as if getting rid of the thought, a clearly inappropriate one. I have no idea what's got into me lately but this certainly isn't anything great. I let out a huff as I roll back over, but that doesn't help my case as I feel an arm wrapping around me in no time, pulling me closer, my back against Matt's chest, his breath hot against my neck, making my ears go red and my body heat up under the duvet.

I'm starting to think this is some sort of karma.

But, my train of thought takes a 180, and my mind is back on the boy spooning against me from behind. On how he always talks about his past after a nightmare, shares himself bit by bit, through small pieces.

I remember sitting on the floor with him in my room, our backs against the wall as he shared his life with me. “He’s always been violent, probably even before they took me in,” he said about Theodore Nott Sr in a shaky voice. “He’s always hurt Theo and me, physically and mentally. But he was the worst to mum.”

He told me he’s called Theo’s mother ‘mum’ ever since he could remember.

“…I don’t have many memories about my family. I was little when mother left us, and Theo’s family took me in as soon as my father disappeared, that night…”

I remember his voice shaking as he talked about Theo’s mum, and even now at the simple memory, I start gently caressing his forearm draped around my waist.

“She never distinguished Theo and me. We were both his boys. She taught me Italian,” he smiled softly, though his eyes grew sadder as he went on. “And she was such a great cook, Merlin.”

“Theo’s father did horrible things to her, too. And then, one night-“

“One night, when we were eight, he came he came home drunk. Like, wasted. And he… used an Unforgivable Curse on her. He… tortured her, and didn’t stop until… it was too late. I was afraid he’d kill us too. That was the night I got this,” he pointed at the scar casting down his right eyebrow and cheek, his voice growing shakier by the second. “I-I wanted to help mum, but… I was too late. Theo didn’t come out of his room for days."

He also told me how it was for him when we arrived at Hogwarts in first year. “Horrible,” he stated simply with a bitter tone. I can recall myself how people looked down on him or expected the worst. Half the school was afraid of him, and the other half wanted to test the waters. Pranks, rumours, he got the worst of it. In our second year, he was accused of letting the troll in on Halloween, hexing Harry’s broom, etc.

But the third year was the worst so far, when everything revolved around the Chamber of Secrets. Yes, Harry got it bad, too, but never as much as Mattheo. Sometimes I wish I could turn back time and hex people who had judged him before getting to know him.

I’d put every one of them into a coma.

Can I even say something like this as a Prefect?

Probably not.

Anyway.

I look down at the arm of the sleeping boy swung around my waist protectively.

What would it be like if I held his hand?

The memory of the first night of this school year appears in my mind, how I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up into the Astronomy Tower. Then, the realization comes washing down on me like ice-cold water, that I, indeed have hexed someone who was rude to Mattheo.

Bloody McLaggen. But he deserved it. Cormac is a reappearing problem in my life, too, something you would want to just cut off and never think of any more. Not like a recurring nightmare, more like an embarrassing wet dream with someone you’d rather not imagine yourself having sex with, as even the thought of it is A, humiliating, B, inconvenient, or C, outright frightening and disgusting. Like doing it with Darth Vader (excluding the time he was an actual human being because I can understand Padmé). And I strongly believe I’m not the only one thinking this about him.

Him shifting a bit around shakes me out of my thoughts, and I suddenly become overly aware of how his hips bucked a little against my backside, and how he scooped me closer to himself like a kid his teddy bear just a second ago. Hell, I could get used to this.

I can’t seem to relax though, and can’t fight the urge of taking his hand in mine, so I act without thinking and gently grab it, without waking him up. Like that night. And like the evening of the Yule Ball.

I wish we had more opportunities to waltz around the Great Hall.

His hand on my waist, the other holding mine gently, how his hips brushed against mine while we were dancing, and how securely he pulled me back against him after twirling me—

No. I need to stop. ASAP.

I take a deep breath, trying to untangle my thoughts, but my heart only starts beating faster, and I try to forget about those drug and alcohol-driven kisses, but MERLIN, THOSE LIPS. Kiss him and try to make me forget after.

Fuck, this is not good.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @mqstermindswift @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez

[mustainegf]

PLEASE MAKE THE ‘walk me home’ ONE A SERIES OH MY GOD

GLADLY!!!! THIS SERIES IS SO CUTE SO FAR

𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐓𝟐 ¹⁹⁷⁹

— 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

The next day, I sat in the classroom, all mushy inside from daydreaming of her. My mind strayed often to yesterday's conversation and how it ended, promising another glimpse of her. Id been constantly checking the clock for time to pass by.

Then, out of nowhere, there was this shadow over the top of my desk. I looked up and saw a familiar face one of the football jocks, Brad, notorious for making life miserable for guys like me.

"Hey, freak," he snarled, his tone oozing with disdain. "Saw you with your pretty little friend yesterday." He paused for just a moment before grinning. “You realize it’s a charity case? She’s j only hanging out with a loser like you out of pity.”

I felt a lump come into my throat, but I tried to act cool. "I don't see why that's any of your business," I said, trying to sound braver than what I was feeling.

Brad screwed up his face in a sneer. "Stay away from her," he threatened, right in my face. "She shouldn't be hanging out with someone like you, you're nothing but a loser. Just a pussy whose mommy won’t even let him go to health class." He laughed evilly, knowing he’d hit me where it hurt.

Before I could even open my mouth, he slammed into my desk and knocked down all my books. Some kids in the class giggled, and I felt my cheeks flush.

Brad gave me one more scowl before sauntering off with a tail of laughter behind him.

I sat there a second, my heart pounding. Part of me wanted to crawl under my desk and disappear. Then I thought about her, and the way her eyes lighted up while talking about music. I wasn't going to let Brad, or anyone else, ruin that beauty.

I picked up my books, lining them front faced on the desk, trying not to let his antics get under my skin. Perhaps to him, I was a freak, but she thought me someone worth speaking to, and that was all that mattered, at least to me. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, even if I was just a loser.

Once the bell rang, I rushed out of class. I had this feeling of eagerness to see her again, to hear her voice. I sped down the hallway, and here she came out by the lockers, lightening up at just the sight of me.

"James!" she said before waving me over.

"Hey," I replied, my heart still light at the fact that it was really her standing right in front of me. "Ready for class?"

"Yeah," she replied, then fell into step beside me. "By the way, I was thinking, maybe we could hang out after school again? There's this cool new record store I want to check out."

I beamed, feeling Brad's threats slide off my shoulders. "I'd love that," I told her.

In could hardly believe it, she wanted to hang out with me, and go to a record store? Was this like a date? Or just a hangout, or-

I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m excited nonetheless.

We walked to class together, and I felt maybe for the first time that things were finally changing. I wasn't just a faceless kid in the crowd anymore. I was James, and she liked me for me. At least I hoped.

We left school together and walked down the street, her excitement was contagious. She slipped along and took me to the record store that just opened, and no sooner had we parted the curtains when the vinyl smell and rows upon rows of albums hit me.

It was like paradise in here.

I beelined for the rock and metal section, my fingers just about itching to turn through the records. She came with me, her curiosity apparently piqued.

As I was going through some of the titles, I pulled out a copy of Led Zeppelin's "Houses of the Holy" and held it up to get a better look at it.

"This one is so good," I said, building up in excitement. "Have you heard 'No Quarter'? It is one of their best songs."

She nodded, a small smile working its way onto her face. "Yeah, my brother plays it all the time."

We kept flipping through the records, each one leading us to a different conversation. I pulled out a copy of Judas Priest's "Hell Bent for Leather" and held it up to show her. "These guys are fucking awesome."

She bent lower, scrutinizing the cover. "I've heard of priest, but I don't have much of their stuff. What's your favorite song?"

"Definitely the title track" I said, getting increasingly excited by the second to be starting all these things with her. "It's just energy from start to finish."

We laughed, smiled, wandered around the store, asked about new bands. J finally had someone to talk to about this stuff, and she just happened to also be gorgeous.

She had the sudden inhalation of air and yanked out a record from her knackering through the shelf. "Oh my God, I've been looking for this forever!" She held aloft a copy of Black Sabbaths "Paranoid" with the most shocked and excited face I’d ever seen. "I've always wanted this album!”

I could see she was highly elated, and then it faltered just by looking at the price tag. "I don't have enough money for it," she said, tinged with disappointment.

I checked my own wallet, but I knew I didn't have enough money.

Suddenly, it came to my mind that at home I had a copy of "Paranoid." Nothing was said just yet, but I started to form a plan.

We continued to browse the store, but I could tell she was still thinking about that Black Sabbath record.

As we were walking out of the store, heads stuffed with the high of music, I couldn't Shake the thought from my mind about how I could get her that album. Maybe I could surprise her with the record or something.

"Thanks for coming with me today," she said as we walked back to her house. "I had a lot of fun, even if I couldn't get that record." She laughed nervously, eyes flicking to mine.

"Me too," I smiled with a nod as my mind raced with all the possibilities. "Maybe we could do it again sometime? I could uh… I could walk you home again tomorrow.."

"I'd like that," she said, her smile returning. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," I echoed, feeling something new inside me, something warm.

I couldn't take the smile off my face as I walked home. I knew exactly what I was going to do. That record she wanted so badly? It was all hers. Well, I had to hand it to her, I just couldn't wait until I saw the look on her face when I gave it to her.

—➤ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

[fuutaprotectionsquad]

Am I the only one who doesn't think Shidou's gonna snap at Amane? Like ive seen so many people taking his "it's my job as an adult to teach you that throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to make everything go your way" line as indication that he's going to hurt her in some way and like?? What, is he not allowed to be annoyed that she's literally threatening him? That doesn't mean he's gonna beat her up. He literally follows this by saying "If it’s a test of endurance you want, I’m happy to oblige." Aka "I'll continue as I have been." I don't think he's going to do anything to her. In fact, it'd be more in character if he let her kill him. Which, with the way he's making sure theres someone else to handle Mahiru + the kids if he's not there (Yuno / Kazui), it's totally possible he's preparing to die or be gravely injured by her.

I've seen a few people dismiss Amane's threats towards him because "if he can't defend himself against a child, thats on him" and I- Firstly, the victim blaming mentality on that one is baffling. Secondly, has Milgram taught you nothing about underestimating children?? And finally, Shidou still sees Amane as a kid, he's not gonna fight back. Do you know how hard a fight is when you're trying not to hurt the other person, who has a weapon and also will not hold back like you are? I'd imagine it's pretty difficult.

The Shidou hate has gotten so unreal its almost funny. Like the people saying he doesn't actually care about / value the opinions of children. As though he doesn't go out of his way to ask Muu how Haruka (a child) is doing because he's worried about him. As though he doesn't have two timeline conversations about how he believes children are hope for the future. As though he doesn't admit to being upset that Amane doesn't like him, and then proceed to get sentimental on her birthday. Not to mention that he says he specifically wants a child like Es to tell him he's guilty, instead of the law.

And people saying he doesn't care about Mahiru / is being forced to help her. Meanwhile he's literally risking his life to do so, and has no reason to listen to anyone telling him to if he didn't genuinely want to. Someone said something about his smoke break with Kazui showing that he didn't value Mahiru's health because he was... taking a break?? And that if she was in such dire health that he couldn't handle much else in the prison, he shouldn't be taking that break. Even though we've seen that Mahiru doesn't need to be monitored 24/7, and has Yuno to help even if she did. Because news flash, people need to take breaks in order to function? That's the point of the timeline, Kazui telling him to rest and not overwork himself.

I just. take psychic damage every time someone grabs a random Shidou line/action and twists it to make him seems like a selfish asshole. Like by all means, you can hate Shidou, I don't particularly care for him myself. But at least hate him for reasons that are actually canon to his character.

Its likely something will happen with Shidou in T3 that makes him seem more guilty. Thats just how Milgram is, he seems really innocent now so they'll sprinkle in a lil guilty to keep it balanced. But Milgram also doesn't switch up characters out of the blue, every new reveal is led up to. I'll be genuinely surprised and probably kinda annoyed if he ends up hurting Amane or Mahiru purposefully.