#but honestly it's not as bad as these make it seem
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you'll live forever | part one
Description: Hwang In-ho joins the newest edition of Squid Games as Player 001. He sees the wife that he believes to be dead, and she cannot remember him.
Pairing: hwang in-ho/reader
A/N: I love Squid Games but let us not allow the capitalism-fication of this franchise to let us forget about the series' core message. capitalism sucks. Don't let violence desensitize us. Warning: idk if I used the word hyung correctly... multipart, comment to get tagged.
There were times when he'd wake up too early in the morning when the sun would greet his sensitive eyes, and he'd take a longer time to adjust to the brightness. In those rare moments, he sees the faint silhouette of your body, in those rare times, he even smells your cherry blossom perfume.
A sigh escapes his mouth as he sinks further into the sheets.
No matter how far his hands reach out - you won't be there to hold it.
"I have work tomorrow, I don't want to drink." A complaint escapes In-ho's mouth as his younger brother drags him to the nearest bar. In-ho has never been fond of spending time around other people, he'd much rather focus on work and getting that new promotion...
"Who said anything about drinking, hyung? You promised me that you'd make time to meet my girlfriend," the younger man rolls his eyes, dragging his brother to the center of the room where everyone was huddled near the television. Yep, soccer. "My schedule is cleared next Saturday," In-ho raises an eyebrow.
"Oppa!!" He hears someone scream at the top of their lungs, and his brother quickly makes her way towards the woman - greeting her with a hug. 'Young love,' In-ho thinks to himself, as he turns to look the other way - he suddenly catches a glimpse of someone.
You.
One.
His eyes trailed upwards, soaking in the sight of your face. He sees his future inside of your eyes, your perfect lips, the way you slowly begin to smile at him.
Two.
His gaze trails downwards as he sees the beautiful dress that you're wearing. He begins to praise the summer days, his eyes brushing against your creamy thighs, making his heart thump erratically.
Three.
"Hyung, this is my girlfriend Hee-jo and that's her friend. What was your name again?" His brother turns to look at you, and that smile deepens - your eyes meeting his. "My name's In-ho," he greets, and you mumble your name underneath your breath, shaking his hand.
"I'm sorry for tagging along Jun-ho. Hee-jo's dad made me come with," You blushed. In fear that you were intruding on the couple's personal moment. "Don't worry, you're like a sister to me." Jun-ho chuckles, sitting beside Hee-jo - leaving his brother with no choice but to sit beside you.
As Hee-jo raises her hand to drink a glass of beer, the entire bar erupts into a cacophony of cheers - South Korea has earned a point! Everyone stands up, but In-ho and you remain seated.
He smiles, watching you cheer for the motherland.
This particular memory has been burned into his mind. It only took him three seconds to see you and fall in love. "Yay," you giggled after the bartenders announced a round of drinks on the house. And after that encounter, fate seemed to smile on you both.
He remembers all the memories, the good and bad.
He also remembers your first date. It was the first winter of 2008. "You were born in 1976?" You raised an eyebrow, continuing to stuff your face with beef and lettuce. "Yes, is there something wrong with that?" He pretended to look offended.
'How old is she?' his eyebrows merged together.
He places a piece of kimchi inside his mouth. "How old are you?" He asks, cursing himself for forgetting to ask Jun-ho. "I was born in 1986. I honestly thought that you were much younger," you pouted.
'That would make her...' he calculates your age in the back of his mind. Ten years younger than him! He almost bites his tongue. "Is that going to be a problem?" He tilts his head. He definitely does not have a chance with someone like you, so beautiful and young.
"No, I like older men." You say bluntly. He almost spits out his drink, earning a giggle from you. "Ouch," he pretends to be hit. "So, what is it exactly that you do for work?" You ask with a smile, happily eating your meal. "I'm a police officer. I mostly do detective cases, what about you?" He inquires with interest.
"I just graduated. I work at the hospital." You informed.
"Are you a doctor?" He asks.
"No, I'm a nurse. It's always been a dream of mine," your eyes sparkle at the mention of making your dreams a reality. "Saving people," you quickly added. "- I guess you feel the same way too, since you're a police officer." You pointed out.
In-ho nods.
"I guess we are the same," he continues nodding. The entire date, the smile does not leave his lips...then,
One date, becomes two, becomes a thousand.
And finally, you are getting married to him.
"Hey, are you okay?" In-ho wraps his arms around you, preparing to meet your guests who are waiting in the reception. A deep sigh escapes your mouth. "I'm scared," you confessed. He wraps his arms around you, already aware of your fears.
"I mean everyone's going to be from your side of the family - and everyone's already talking about how I don't have parents." You chuckled nervously. All these ajummas won't stop talking about your personal life. In-ho has even contemplated not inviting them at all, but his father insisted. "Fuck them," he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks and pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.
"Let's enjoy our wedding," he smiles.
"I love you, In-ho." You repeated.
"I love you more," he responded.
He has always loved you more.
The beautiful days of the roses were over, he was only left with the darkness of the night. "ESRD," the doctor opened his mouth to speak. "How dangerous is it?" In-ho fights against that heaving feeling in the back of his throat.
"ESRD, End Stage Renal Disease is where the kidney can no longer support the body's needs. Most typically, I would recommend dialysis in moderate cases, but for severe cases, I strongly advise a kidney transplant. Your wife has a very common blood type, it will be easy to get a match, but that's not the problem." The doctor hesitates, In-ho recognizes the man to be one of your closest friends.
He hands In-ho a stack of files.
"It's expensive to pay for kidney transplants in this country. There is a waiting list for donors, but it'll take decades - there are some who sell their kidneys but it costs almost a billion won, and then there's the medicine, the operation, and the hospital. It takes a lot of money and she's one of my closest friends so please feel free to reach out to me. I can give a bit of what I have." The doctor rambles.
Whatever it takes, even when the cost is too high.
₩649,344,412
In-ho stares at the cost of your transplant, and he knows that he doesn't have that money. "We'll be fine," he tells himself.
"I need to borrow money," In-ho stares at the loanshark. The man looked like a typical gangster, with tattoos all over his forearm, and the smell of cigarettes looming over the air.
"The high and mighty detective borrowing money from someone like me?" The man teased. In-ho has been watching this man for the past two years, waiting for a mistake - the loanshark's #1 enemy, and now begging at his doorsteps for money. "10% interest rate, you pay every month." The loanshark emphasized.
His cronies laugh, and one of them continues to massage him.
"5% and you give me the cash today," In-ho demands, an air of authority radiating around him. "Borrow money from someone else," the man scoffs. "- I know about the money laundering." In-ho leans cooly on the chair, pretending to be confident about the situation.
"6%," the man clenches his jaw.
"You have yourself a deal," In-ho agrees.
After the secret meeting, the loanshark got arrested. In-ho was fired from his job - the superiors believed that he was bribed to hide the loanshark's secret. And then he got a call from a random number.
He played ddakji with a strangely well-dressed man in the middle of the subway station, and he joined the 28th Squid Games.
He won the 28th Squid Games.
He exited the black van, his white shoes meeting the dirty ground. He stands to look at your home, everyone is staring at him. "What are you doing here!" Hee-jo screams at him. "She's dead, you didn't even visit her, she's dead!" Hee-jo yells.
In-ho stares in shock, looking around him, to see different types of flowers scattered all over the porch. 'I have the money,' he wanted to say as tears spilled out of his irises. "How dare you come here." Hee-jo continued crying as her grip on his forearm tightens, hurting him.
"In-ho," his younger brother looks shocked to see him.
"I'm sorry," In-ho mumbles.
I'm sorry.
Comment to get tagged for PT. 2
#squid game x reader#squid game#squid game fanfic#front man x reader#squid game season 2#squid game s2#in ho x reader#young il x reader#squid game x you#hwang in ho#front man#player 001#squid game smut#frontman x reader#player 001 x reader#hwang in ho x reader
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gonna be a bit nitpicky about the last reblog above, but what is tumblr for if not discussions, so...! i feel like many forget to take into account that airplane didn't originally set up binghe as a stallion protagonist of any kind - in fact, in the original outline, luo binghe never had any romantic interests at all, which is a VERY interesting tidbit that i wish more people would remember, because what the hell was the original outline is something that keeps me up at night.
THAT BEING SAID: personally, i do like to go with the interpretation that airplane was fully aware of his own sexuality, because it kind of makes the whole pidw-as-a-stallion-novel thing more tragic given luo binghe is... well, kind of airplane's self insert in many ways. and, honestly, he probably created the commentary aspect of it that is so clear to us as the readers unintentionally - at least at first; honestly he might have leaned into the irony of it all later imo, given his own seeming awareness of how utterly sad everything he writes is (because let's all face it as a community - given what we know of the original draft, airplane shooting towards the sky was a pure whump writer before he got forced into writing bad het porn for money. this is fascinating to me for other reasons, but i've already gone way off topic for this post, so uhm. another time on that maybe).
also, on the original post- i personally see binghe in general as pansexual-but-severely-demiromantic adjacent, given that, like.... i really don't think one could have sex with That Many Women without feeling something, and i also feel like it would be kind of dishonest to completely disregard him being anything but gay-or-straight when he did, in fact, in the end sleep with all those women and marry them. i do still think airplane's gay though, actually, because binghe's eventual sexuality meta-reflecting airplane's need-money-to-survive based writing decisions is deeply interesting to me- but all this leads back to the demiromanticism that op has already mentioned, in that it's likely bingge never formed a deep enough connection with anyone to truly fall in love the same way binghe had a shot to in his own life. (i'm honestly also of the take that bingge doesn't actually fall in love with shen qingqiu in the bingge vs bingmei extra, but AGAIN that would be material for an orginal post and not a reblog that's already full of me yapping for far too long.) so. yeah, he's just really fucking sad in any universe huh
you know I am willing to give luo binghe massive amounts of shit for being totally deranged because he is such a dick but also like, his very favorite person in the world did open their relationship by abusing him for actual years and then just turn on a dime and start spoiling him
and since he never got an explanation for any of that, even before he got thrown off a cliff into hell he had to choose between rejecting one of three positive personal relationships he'd experienced in his entire life (and the only one where he was getting as much support as he needed) or structuring his understanding of personal interaction so that history was actually cool and okay somehow, and like
literally anyone in that situation would have come out with some fucked-up norms about relationships and boundaries. i can only blame him so much for not knowing where lines ought to happen! his dataset is fucked.
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greetings...i respectfully would like to place down my 2 cents for diamond life
reader is hard at work under the desk in woozi's studio, whenever a member-specifically shua and minghao or honestly whichever member wants to blow off some steam while recording, all woozi has to do is pull them off him, hold them by the hair and let said member go nuts...the sadists that they are 🤐
— Accelerando!
Warnings: woozi x free use!reader x joshua x the8, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), tears, gagging, lots of cum, voyeurism, filming
More like this... Diamond Life : The Series
Recordings can either be the smoothest sailing days or the harshest battles against the flow. Sometimes it would be over in a few hours, sometimes it could take up the whole day.
When the members said Woozi practically lived in his Universe Factory, they meant in. He even had his own foldable bed in it and everything. All his amenities at one place for his comfort.
Out of all the members, Woozi would argue that he benefited from you the most. He had always loved the idea of cockwarming, especially while he worked on his chair. The idea of someone keeping his cock warm and hard while he made music was magical.
You sat under his desk, legs crossed, eyes closed, head resting on his hard muscle packed thigh, mouth occupied with his heavy thick dick in your mouth. You may seem at rest but your tongue definitely wasn't. Occasionally moving, licking the veins from the sides of his cock. Throat constricting at carefully calculated times.
"Lets do one more run towards the end. I wasn't satisfied with the last part, I think both of you can do more." Woozi spoke, his fingers pressing on the button talking to Joshua and Minghao who was in the booth recording for a duet.
Minghao sighed and nodded, Joshua just held his headphones in understanding. The two calmest members of the group, but the last person they'd want to piss off. An enigma of the saying 'The calm before the storm.'
The two went for a few more rounds in the studio, before slowly, the frustration started creeping in, tension building up in the booth until it was showing in their voices.
Truth is, Woozi was doing this on purpose, he believes that there's no better view than you choking and crying on a dick. He would always do it to you, loving the bulge his cock would imprint on your throat, the way your glassy eyes look up at him showing no signs of thinking, completely dumb and cock drunk.
As much as he loves seeing it in first person, he can't help but wonder what it'd look like in second. The boys really have spending alot more time together, Seungkwan's enthusiasm over exhibitionism was starting to get to him.
"Hyung.. I don't think I can do it anymore, it's getting overwhelming. We've been here for hours repeating the same line over and over again. I need a break." Minghao complained, ever so well thought out and collected, but his body language says otherwise. He looked stiff, eyes tired and basically begging for rest.
"I agree, I think it would be better for us to have a break and recollect ourselves, maybe it's the exhaustion that's causing the bad outcomes." Joshua nodded, looking back and forth between his friends.
You open your eyes at the sound of their voice, looking up to Woozi with a hopeful look. He told you of his plans asking for consent, and you eagerly nodded not even a second after the words left his mouth making him chuckle and call you a slut.. which you ultimately got heated up over, and no, you didn't beat him to death, but your pussy may say otherwise.
The pale man was silent for a minute as if he was thinking, before ultimately agreeing and letting the boys out. As the duo leave the booth, Woozi pulls his dick out of your mouth making your saliva drip all over the floor and off his dick.
Rolling his chair to the side, he reveals you to the boys, looking pretty all wet and open wide for the two. "It would be better for you two to release your frustrations rather than have them bottled up, 'no?" Woozi said, dick standing up and and as proud as himself for his plan execution.
"Yeah, definitely." Joshua sighed, pulling his dick out of his pants, getting harder and harder each passing second as you crawl on your fours to get to him. He gives his dick a few strokes before shoving himself in all the way in your mouth.
Joshua, Seventeen's Gentleman, was nothing like the man the public perceives of him. He was anything but gentle, always leaving you bruised and nearly unconscious after fucking you. Cuffing you down, pressing you hard against the bed, everything but being gentle.
Minghao was silent, but he wasn't non threatening, situating himself behind you, his focus immediately zeroed in on your exposed cunt. You were wearing only a thin oversized shirt — probably from Mingyu — and nothing else. What was the point of wearing under wear when it's just gonna be put aside anyways?
The chinese man was known for his relentless and often unfiltered mouth. He wasn't any different in sex, seemingly having developed an oral fixation on your pussy, always eating you out whenever given the chance to. He usually starts off slow, before adding his fingers, and going feral using you.
Your whimpers were muffled by the dick inside your mouth, heavy and big. Joshua surprisingly was starting off slow as well, probably due to the younger kneeling behind you. But his pace doesn't stop him from going rough. Giving you deep, hard thrusts, that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Tears were already rolling of your face, muted gagging sounds emmited from you as he sensually fucked your mouth as if it was your cunt.
Woozi felt like he was in a real life porno. Sitting like a king in his chair with his legs in a manspread, slowly jerking off his hard on. From his perspective, the bulge on your mouth was extremely evident. Him and Joshua were pretty similar in girth, having only an inch difference in length.
From behind you, Minghao was finally starting to quicken his pace. Slender fingers now toying with your cunt, tongue lapping and licking all over you resulting in nasty slurping sounds. He didn't knew whose cum was mixxed with yours, but whoever it was, his diet must be healthy for it to taste this good. Or maybe it was just your magic.
His tongue slides in and out of you, practically cleaning you up to get you ready for a fresh new batch of cum inside of you.
Joshua was now collecting your hair and putting it up in a pony tail, his big hands giving him no struggle with the task. You mentally prepare yourself as this was his ritual before losing all his mercy on you. He groaned as he gives you a deep hard thrust, before pulling out and pushing back in, this time with a much faster, deeper, pace.
Minghao moves his face away from your cunt, opting to finger you instead. His dick was getting painfully hard, having been ignored for too long. His patience runs thin when he's horny.
Finally taking his dick out, he pushes in inside of you, immediately matching with his hyungs pace in a way that he was in fucking into you at the same time Joshua was. Two dicks pressing deeply inside of you at the same time, at the same intervals.
You sounded and looked like a mess. Torn between gagging and moaning. Your face was flushed, full on crying now. Had it not been for Joshua in front of you, your face would be on the floor planted flat right now.
Woozi was shamelessly jerking off while watching the whole thing. His mind has orchestrated alot of masterpieces throughout his life, this was no doubt one of them.
"Agh.. fuck." Joshua strangled out as he came in your mouth, forcing your face into his dick, nose pressing against his pelvis. He was a heavy heavy cummer, emphasize on heavy if it hadn't been yet. Always leaving you full or choking even more on his cum, not just his dick.
Sweat was dripping of his forehead as he look down on you, panting with veins visible all over his arms and face. "Good girl, good job. Take it all. All of it." Joshua praised in a husky voice, clearly worn out from todays activities. But no matter how tired he was, he would never pass out on your hole.
Minghao followed soon after, filling up your other hole with his own cum. He rocks his hip back and forth into you creating a ring of cum around his dick. "Hyung.. look at this." Minghao called out, eyes focused on where the two of you connect.
It was all Woozi needed for him to cum as well. Cursing under his breath as a string of cum spurts out his dick, landing all over his chair, shirt, and even on the floor.
Joshua reached out to his back pocket for his phone. Opening the camera, he hit the record button making surs to catch your face in the frame.
Slowly, he pulled his dick out of you, a flow of his cum dripping out of your mouth. You were panting like a dog, eyes blown out, all fucked out to realize that there was a camera in front of you. Joshua pressed a thumb on your tongue, prompting you to open up more.
He dragged his thumb from your tongue to your lip, spreading cum all over. Angling his phone to where it catches the both of you, he pulled you into a kiss, tasting and cleaning his cum from your mouth. Tongues lapping all over each other, dirty sounds coming from the two of you. Alternating between open mouth kisses to French kissing.
"Fuck, hyung." Minghao whispered when he felt his dick getting hard again. Looks like it won't be just the three of them who'll be working hard in the studio today.
#seventeen#seventeen x you#seventeen smut#kpop smut#woozi smut#woozi x reader#woozi#woozi imagines#joshua x reader#joshua hong smut#joshua hong#seventeen joshua#seventeen headcanons#seventeen fanfic#the8 smut#the8#the8 x reader#minghao smut#minghao x reader#xu minghao#xu minghao smut#xu minghao x reader#lee jihoon#jihoon smut#jihoon x reader#joshua smut
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ex, for a reason
summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.
pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader
word count: 1.4k
contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff
the request.
He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.
Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.
This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.
"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?
You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."
Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.
You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“
"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."
You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“
Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.
Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.
"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.
He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.
You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."
He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."
"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."
He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"
You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.
Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.
You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.
Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"
You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.
You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."
Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"
You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."
But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.
#x reader#x female y/n#x female reader#squid game#x you#fanfiction#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid game x y/n#squid game fanfic#squid game s2#squid game x you#kang dae ho#kang dae-ho#kang dae ho x reader#kang dae-ho x reader#player 388#player 388 x reader#squid game 2#squid game dae ho
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->You're hyper independent || Ateez Reactions || Hyung Line
Genre: fluff, angst (because of the theme on itself), slice of life AU
Warnings: NONE
N/A: This is a very real trauma response that real people have. However, I tried to keep it light, humorous, and focus on the support and love the reader received from the boys in different contexts instead of the actual trauma triggering situation that cause the trauma response. If I, in any way, offend people who have this trauma response, I'm open to learning and editing this, if necessary.
N/A ²: This is a gender neutral! reader.
Ateez Masterlist
Kim Hongjoong (김홍중): You don’t let him pay for you, and he’s helpless
On your very first date with Hongjoong, just as casually as he wiped out his card to pay for the meal, you wiped out yours. That day, he learned you were as hardheaded as he was, which was an interesting surprise. There was no dance of “Oh, I pay. No, it’s okay, I can pay. No, I insist. Oh, if you insist, then…” as he imagined at first. If you said you were going to pay, then you would do so. In the end, you both agreed to slip the bill even.
That was a common occurrence at the beginning of your relationship, a spit-even bill no matter the cost of the meal or whatever you were doing together.
It wasn’t like he was flaunting his money, nor did he want to offend you in any way, which you didn’t think was the case, thank God. It just became second nature for him to be attentive to those around him, and if he had an opportunity to do something nice for people he cared about, why would he not? Why wouldn’t you let him? You thought he was adorable when he vented that to you on a 1 A.M. something call, like those thoughts plagued his dreams or something. You liked your man a little dramatic like that.
There were times when it was a given that he bought something for the two of you, and then you made sure to put your money on something else for you both that same day. He thought you would rather keep things “separated” at that stage, where things were uncertain, to not create any kind of “debts” with each other, it seemed, although he didn’t agree with that trail of thoughts at all, and it was a bit offensive to him. First, because he’d never be the type of man to expect anybody to owe him anything after dinner, and second, because he hadn’t any doubts about the relationship.
His suspicions weren’t that far off, honestly. You said plainly you rather avoid any discomfort or expectations at this stage of your relationship with him, and he could sleep well because you knew how caring he was even if he wasn’t the one paying for you.
It was lovely for him to know what you thought of him. A simple phrase made his day, and if that was your answer, then he wouldn’t push it. Even if he was desperate to know what those discomforts were for you and if they happened frequently in the past.
For now, he’d gladly wait for you while you met in the middle, even if he feels a little helpless.
Park Seonghwa (박성화): he isn’t allowed to baby you like you baby him, but mama raised no bitch
It wasn’t a rule per se, but the only 3 times he ever tried to baby you during your one-year relationship like you usually do with him, two of them made you almost become physically ill, and the last of them, you were, in fact, ill.
He never thought karma would hit him as hard as it did when he met you for the first time. His tsundere exterior was nothing compared to yours. It felt like he encountered another version of himself, one that he lost to instantly. It was safe to say your charm wasn’t cuteness. It was how attentive you were, how you cared for anyone around you in a quiet and practical way, and how you were honest above all. You were reliable, steady, and so so warm with those you cared for. He was down bad before he could say the word “tsundere”.
The first time was a mistake, almost an instinct. It wasn’t rare for you to be cute unintentionally, but just as much as one shouldn’t make any sudden noise to not scare a grumpy cat away after it laid near, he should not have cooed and pinched your cheeks while you tried some of his stew at a dinner night at his house, the first of many.
He didn’t move, his arms hurt from the position he was in. The sheer astonishment on your face made him freeze, but there was no way of reversing time. There was no running from this. It was done. He feared for his life as you slowly processed what was happening to you.
It was clear how deeply you disliked it, even if you didn’t say so, and Seonghwa always prided himself on being a great boyfriend, so he kept that in mind to never do it again.
But he is just a man at the end of the day, a very, very weak man, and your cheeks are really, really perfect to pinch. Still, he chose his battles carefully, and the last two attempts were successful because you always let him off the hook without much of anything. In all honesty, he was the cutest and childlike one in the relationship even if he didn’t show it after first, and you fell hard for that side of him. The way his pretty brown eyes shined with mischief whenever he got away with calling you cute or cooing at you melted your heart on the spot, so you let him.
If it was anyone else, you’d run as far as you could from whoever it was, even your own parents. You were just not a touchy person at all, because maybe you grew up without people giving that kind of love to you then, but you got used to it from Seonghwa. Of course, it was best if he never knew how much power he actually had, so you let him fear for his life for a moment or two.
Unfortunately, Seonghwa was a cute, silly man, but he was your cute, silly man.
Jeong Yunho (정윤호): You don’t ask him for help, but what else can he do with his acts of service love language?
You two have been friends for a good while now, that kind of friend who everyone thought would amount to something else yet never did. The time to risk for something more was the night you two met, but neither of you took any action then. Now, you two had a good friendship, and that was more than enough for both of you.
Yunho couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t thought of what ifs with you in the past, but in his mind, you were never interested in him like this, so the whole thing was pointless. You didn’t seem interested in a romantic relationship then just as much as you don’t now, and he was fine with it.
You had a nice future ahead of you. A lot of your time was spent on building a good curriculum for college and then a solid career for yourself in a predominantly male industry. It was a rough path, sometimes you wondered if that was the right choice or not, doubted your own capabilities because your colleagues did so all the time, but at the end of the day you had amazing people to remind you who you were, you had Yunho. Sometimes, you wondered if he was a mind reader of sorts.
You dreaded the simple thought of looking weak, even if it was something as little as asking for some space to vent. You grew up with the mindset that any kind of vulnerability was bad, which wasn’t healthy for you at all, but it feels like it’s too late to change, even if you want to. However, the thing about Yunho is that he’d never allow you to ask for anything because he hands you anything you might need.
Did you need someone to distract you after a rough day of work? That’s a given. His silly memes and TikTok’s were waiting for your reply. Oh, you actually needed space for yourself? It’s ok. He’s got the hint quickly, and he’d leave you be with a simple encouraging message to remind you to rest and contact him the next day.
The good stuff came when you had your weekend free because he remembered you wanted to shop for a new couch, and given the amount of work, it’d be great to have a helping hand, right? Oh, it’s rot-in-bed day instead? Well, it's a good thing he’s versatile.
You never really asked for an all-in-one man, but you got him anyway, so better enjoy it!
Kang Yeosang (강여상): You’re the only person he choose to chase and God forbid if that ever reaches San’s ears
He’s an idol, he’s been in this industry for almost a decade, so he understood being busy, and this overwhelming need to isolate yourself and forget about everything else outside your room. The key difference is that he couldn’t do that much. However, that seemed to be your favorite way to cope lately. It was a lose-lose for him because if you were not locked away in your own world, then you were busy with a million other things.
You’re the only friend from his childhood he still has a relatively stable relationship because of how close in stages of life you two always have been, even now, both working in very different industries.
It has been like this since the very beginning. You two always aimed to be something in the future when you were kids. What you two would be was a different question, and neither was ready to answer. In the teen years, Yeosang got his answer while you worked hard to get into a good college, hoping to find yours when you got there. That could’ve been the end of the friendship, but you were both so aligned still that it could only be fate. He took a chance at a smaller company, and you decided to study something different than you had imagined for yourself. You both had similar struggles, doubts, and accomplishments around the same time. It was a running joke at this point.
He had to remind himself of that sweet part so he wouldn’t lose it the moment you actually picked up his calls. He knew lately it’s been tough for you. Only you chose not to speak about it and went right into your suffer-alone mode.
The upsetting part of all this was the fact that these were your vacation days, you earned them and he wouldn’t be Kang Yeosang if he’d let you waste it in bed all day after he heard for months all about the places you wanted to go. It was a coincidence the fact that he also recently got some free days for himself.
He was nice enough. He gave you a last heads-up that he was coming. In another life, he could say he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but you wouldn’t say no to him in this lifetime.
It’s only been a while since he was slightly concerned with this “on my own” approach to coping with the pain because you decided not to include him in it. The why he didn’t know, neither was he interested in it. But looking back, you’ve always acted like this, like a little fortress of sorts, like you had to be strong for all to see and this was the first time he was taking an action against it.
#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez reactions#ateez headcanons#ateez masterlist#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#hongjoong fluff#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa imagines#yunho angst#yunho fluff#yunho fanfic#yunho imagines#yeosang fluff#ateez fanfic#ateez fics
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Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞
(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)
First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.
What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.
honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍
lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙
my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍
I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞
now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️🩹
I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️🩹❤️🩹
this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.
And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.
everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3
It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓
a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖
Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕
I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞
Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.
This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞
(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)
Smoke Eater - Part 11
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.
Part 11: “Heart of the Home”
You sat very still.
Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.
You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.
But your life had never been quite that easy.
“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.
He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.
The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.
George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.
“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”
George thanked him.
And you sat very still.
A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.
His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.
“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”
You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.
Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.
Your fault.
When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.
“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.
“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”
George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.
“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”
“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”
George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.
You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.
You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.
“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.
“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.
He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”
“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.
“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.
You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”
“Is there something going on?” he pressed.
You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.
“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.
You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.
“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.
Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”
You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.
You could no longer be still.
Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.
Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.
He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.
“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.
“Normally?” you echoed.
“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”
“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.
George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”
“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”
At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.
Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”
“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.
Benton met the other man’s gaze.
“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”
Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.
Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.
“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.”
You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”
“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.
“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.
Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”
And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.
He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”
“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”
“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”
Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.
“That you do, Lieutenant.”
You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.
Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.
“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.
“Come ‘ere a sec.”
Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.
“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.
George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.
“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”
Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.
Dean’s lips quirked.
“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”
Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.
“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”
George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.
She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.
“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”
Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.
“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”
He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.
Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.
Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.
Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.
“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”
“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”
“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”
“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”
“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”
Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”
“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”
Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.
“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Cas.”
Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.
Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.
So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.
Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.
However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.
While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.
“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.
“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.
“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.
It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.
On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast.
“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.
However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.
“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”
She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.
“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”
You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.
“Nothing.”
Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”
“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.
“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.
Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.
“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.
“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”
Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.
“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”
“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”
By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”
“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”
You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.
Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.
All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.
She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.
But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.
By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.
Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.
He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.
“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”
Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.
“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.
“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.
“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”
That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.
Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.
George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.
“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.
“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.
“Just some water,” the older man replied.
“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”
“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.
“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.
When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.
“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”
Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.
“Tell me,” he said.
“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”
Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.
That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.
But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…
He realized that he only had one answer.
“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.
George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”
And that night, an agreement was made.
In the morning, your grandfather was gone.
Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.
In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.
This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.
But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry.
He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.
So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.
And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.
“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.
He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.
Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”
You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.
“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”
Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”
You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.
“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.
“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”
Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.
“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”
You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.
“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.
Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.
Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.
“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.
You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.
You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.
“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”
“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part.
“I’m not leaving you with this.”
Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat.
“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.
For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes.
He’s not leaving you.
Not like everyone else in your life.
You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.
When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.
It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.
“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”
Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.
“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart.
“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”
You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.
Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.
Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.
He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.
Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he couldn’t leave you.
I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”
A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.
“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”
You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.
Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”
With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.
“That matters to me,” he told you.
You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”
Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.
“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”
You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.
“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand.
“For what?” he asked.
“For staying.”
AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.
But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.
Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙
Next Time:
The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...
You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.”
Dean smiled.
“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”
You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.
Keep Reading: PART 12
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
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#genuinely one of the loveliest reviews I've ever recieved 💞💞#reader appreciation#lovely mutuals#smoke eater feedback
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Escaping Mason au? 👀👉👈
(this ask kind of confused me so I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted lol but here's an AU where Mason decides to trap Reader for whatever reason!)
“Thanks so much for helping me pack,” you say, setting down a cup of tea in front of Mason. He smiles at you, sweet and soft like he always does.
“Of course, sugar. I’m always here t’help ya.” His large hand gently grabs the cup of tea as he sips it leisurely, his broad back leaning into the back of your chair. It’s one of the few pieces of furniture you have left to pack, the more heavy pieces being packed away thanks to Mason’s help.
Honestly, you’ll miss this place – being away from the hustle and bustle of the city has been nice. Plus, Mason has always been really kind to you, helping you whenever you needed him. Today is a great example of that – on top of helping you pack, he’s also baked some cookies for you to snack on.
“You know,” you say, taking a cookie and nibbling on it. “I’ll miss you, Mason.”
“You’re talkin’ like we aren’t gonna see each other again,” he says, laughing lightly. It makes your heart feel warm. “Y’know you can always keep in contact with me.”
“Yeah, thanks,” you respond, smiling, before you yawn.
“Y’should get some rest.” Mason places his tea cup down. “You worked hard today.”
You yawn again. “Mm, yeah, maybe I will,” you agree lightly, feeling your body sag from the weight of your tiredness. It’s unnatural how fast your body seems to droop, your limbs feeling foreign to you. But you don’t feel alarmed just yet – Mason’s there to make sure you’re safe, after all.
When you come to, you’re in an unfamiliar room, sort of. It’s… different, yes, but for some reason, it has most of your personal belongings inside. Blinking away your drowsiness, you look around, before alarm begins to settle into your bones. The heavy chain around your neck doubles your anxiety, the familiar sight of your belongings doing nothing to soothe you.
As the door clicks open, your head swivels in panic, before a wave of relief washed over you as Mason comes in. He’ll save you, surely!
It isn’t until you notice how relaxed he looks – how pleased – that panic begins to bubble inside you again.
“Hey, Sugar,” he hums, twirling a collar with a cowbell around his finger. “D’you like your new room?”
“Wh–what… what–”
“It’s tragic, really – you really hurt my heart, sweetheart.” The way his expression droops is quite convincing to that point that you almost feel bad. “You were just gonna leave like that? Leave me? That’s quite rude of you, don’t ya think, Sugar?”
You’re too stunned – too shocked to respond.
He smiles, his previous illusion of sadness gone. “But it’s all okay now – y’can just stay here with me.” With easy steps, he begins to approach you, collar ready in his hand.
“I’ll be so good to you, Sugar.” The cowbell on the collar jingles with every step he takes. You feel dread fill your stomach, unable to do anything against him as he gently, but firmly, grabs your chin to lift your head, giving him access to your neck. Tears wet your cheeks as you feel the collar snap against your throat like a promise of your future captivity.
“Don’t worry, darling. You know I would do anythin’ for ya.” Gingerly, he wipes away your tears, looking pleased. “All you’ve got to do is be good for me.”
#yandere oc#male yandere#tsuuper ocs#yandere x reader#yandere x you#tw yandere#male yandere oc x reader#male yandere oc#monster boyfriend#bull boy oc#yandere bull boy#Mason Cane Tsuu OC#SO for context as to why i was confused:#Mason doesn't trap the reader lol?? so I was confused as to what exactly Reader had to escape from?#So I guess I took this ask as asking for an AU where Mason DOES trap the reader???#Idk if I read it wrong#feel free to ask for smth else if I got it wrong~ but maybe with a tad bit more info haha#also reusing art bc i have no time lolol
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AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 2
// It’s time for the second chapter! This one focuses more on the conversations with other characters than on Ayayui interactions, but I’m really curious to see if anyone can guess who the second Diaboy to meet Yui will be. 👀
This story isn’t meant to be a harem or anything like that though, but all the Diaboys will meet Yui at some point. I hope you enjoy this chapter until the next one! 💖
Chapter 1
Place: Dorms
Ayato: Good night.
Laito: Nighty night~!
— Ayato enters his room —
Laito: ( Hmm… he seems unusually quiet. He hasn’t said a single word the entire way, which is so unlike him. )
( It’s as if something’s weighing on his mind, that he’s deliberately keeping to himself. )
( Something must have surely happened to him when he went outside, but why won’t he say anything? That’s weird… )
— stretches and yawns —
Anyway, there’s no point in overthinking it. As long as it doesn’t damage his and our reputation, it’s not worth worrying about.
Place: Ayato’s room
Ayato: ( Phew, I managed to slip into my bed without waking Shu up. )
( The last thing I needed was a lecture about sneaking off to the club as an idol and nearly getting caught. )
( Haa… what a mess. I really made a fool of myself today, didn’t I? )
( If it weren’t for that girl, I’d probably be in the hospital right now, all over the news for alcohol poisoning. )
( Man, that would’ve totally wrecked my career… )
???: Heh, where have you been?
Ayato: …!
( Was that—)
O-Oi, you’re not sleeping!?
Shu: I was until a certain someone tripped over the WI-FI cable and woke me up.
Ayato: ( Fuck! )
Shu: But whatever, I answered your question, so now it’s your turn to answer mine.
— opens one eye and looks at him —
Ayato: ( Wait… I could just make something up and play it off as the truth! )
( Heh, exactly! There’s no way he’d be able to tell it’s a lie! )
Just practicing. I want to be the best version of myself for the next concert, y’know?
Shu: Hmm… I see.
And now, what’s the real answer?
Ayato: …!?
( How did he— )
Hah? W-What do you mean? I’m telling the truth!
— Shu opens both eyes and looks at him —
Shu: You went there, didn’t you?
Ayato: …!
( This guy… he can see through me! )
How the hell did you know that I went to the night club!?
Shu: Heh~? So I was right after all. You really did go there, huh?
Ayato: ( You… You fucking tricked me! )
Look, I know I’m not the best at keeping things together, but don’t tell Reiji! I beg you!
If the leader finds out, the staff will know, and once the CEO hears, I’m done! He’ll fire me in a heartbeat, no questions asked!
Shu: You’re overreacting. No idol is gonna get fired for just going to a night club.
Ayato: Man, you just don’t get it! It’s not just about going there— it’s what went down while I was there!
Shu: Oh? Now you’ve got me curious. What exactly happened?
— starts piping —
Ayato: ( Why do I keep getting myself in this!? )
( Haa… but I guess there’s no point in running away from my issues anymore. )
Basically, I was very tired and thought of over drinking to get my mind think of something else, but the alcohol and exhaustion made a really bad combination, so my chest started aching.
I went outside to get some air, but the pain just kept getting worse until this random chick found me and gave me her water bottle.
Shu: Wait… so you got caught?
Ayato: Luckily, no! As crazy as this sounds, she didn’t recognize me.
Heck, she even asked for my name after I called her a cab! But of course, I’m not that dumb. I knew it would have been way too risky to tell her my name.
( Honestly, I don’t even know why I was so anxious about it. In the end, everything worked out just fine, and I bet that girl will forget all about it in a few hours anyway. )
Shu: Hmm… you do realize that might have merely been an act, don’t you?
Ayato: Huh? What do you mean…?
Shu: Women are sly as foxes.
They’ll play all innocent and clueless, behaving like they have no idea what’s going on, but in reality, they’re just getting exactly what they want without anyone even realizing it.
Heh, it’s almost impressive how they pull it off.
Ayato: Wait… so you mean that girl knew who I was and only pretended not to so as to stalk me? But if that’s the case, then——
Shu: Haa… no need to scream, it’s almost 3 in the morning.
I’m not saying she’s a stalker, but you should probably be more cautious.
You know how fangirls are. If they see you talking to any girl that’s not them, they’ll lose it. Better to just watch out and avoid any unnecessary trouble.
— closes eyes again —
Not just for you, but for everyone else around too.
Ayato’s monologue
Shu’s right. I need to step up my game and start taking this job more seriously.
Being an idol isn’t just a paycheck; it’s a responsibility that goes far beyond me.
Every choice I make carries weight, and not just for my future, but for the company’s and everyone I work with.
Yeah… Exactly. If I let my career fall apart, it’s not only me who’ll feel it— the whole team, every project, and all the hard work we’ve put into this place will take a hit as well.
That’s why, from now on, I’m done making stupid decisions that could mess everything up. My focus is on my idol activities and nothing else.
I should have realized from the moment I signed the contract that living like a normal teenager just isn’t part of the deal anymore.
*Timeskip*
Place: Hotel kitchen
Yui: ( Working here is surprisingly relaxing. Not only that, but the co-workers I met seem very nice too! )
( I’m really excited to put my cooking skills to good use. From what I remember, this hotel has a great reputation, therefore it’s truly amazing to learn from such experienced professionals. )
???: Noooo!!!
Yui: …!?
( It’s coming from the storeroom! )
— quickly opens it —
???: ….!
Yui: Hana-san!
I-I heard you scream, are you alright?
Hana: Wa—… Was I really that loud? This is so embarrassing… I’m so sorry!
— covers face with hands —
Yui: Ah, there’s no need to worry about that, it’s fine.
More importantly, what happened? Did something scare you?
Hana: No, I’m not scared, more like… disappointed.
In case you haven’t heard already, the SAKAMAKIS are filming a special episode for their YouTube channel at three different locations, and guess what? My two favorite members are coming to this hotel in 4 days, but the issue is... it’s happening right when I’m not on shift…!
— starts crying —
On top of that, I promised my sister I’d visit her in Fukuoka, since we'll both be off work at the same time, which means that there’s absolutely no way I can meet them now!
This is such terrible timing…!
Yui: ( SAKAMAKIS… Based on Hana-san’s intense reaction, they must be some sort of important public figures, no? )
Oww… it does sound unfortunate, but you shouldn’t give up hope completely. After all, you live in Japan, so I’m sure there’s always a chance you’ll get to meet them!
Hana: It’s not as easy as you say…
They will return to Korea soon, and who knows when they’ll promote in Japan again? This was my only opportunity to see them outside of the concerts… and I couldn’t even manage to get any decent seats there.
— pouts —
Yui: ( Wait, did she say ‘concerts’? )
Ohh, I see. So they’re idols!
Hana: Eh? You… You actually don’t know the SAKAMAKIS—!?
Yui: W-Well… I’m sorry, the name doesn't really ring a bell, and to be honest, I can’t say I’m familiar with the idol world in general.
Hana: But come on, you must have at least seen their faces before, right?
— shows her a picture of them —
Yui: ( Will she be let down again if I say ‘no’? )
( Hmm… But truth be told, these boys are undeniably good-looking, and it’s clear that they must be hardworking as well, considering how they manage to juggle such hectic schedules. )
( I can easily see why they’ve captured the hearts of such passionate fans. )
— eyes suddenly widen —
( The red-haired one——! )
— blushes —
Hana: So, who did steal Yui-san’s heart~?
Yui: Ah, n-nobody…!
— gets embarrassed —
It’s just that the boy in middle… he got an incredibly well-featured face. I don’t know how to put it into words, but he simply appears unreal.
( To think that a human could look like this… it makes me a bit envious. His eyes and face shape are especially pretty. )
— Hana starts laughing —
Yui: ( Eh? Did I say something wrong? )
Hana: Get in line, that’s Ayato-san!
Hmph… just the thought of not being able to see his tiny, perfect face up close makes my heart ache.
Yui: ( Hana-san… she really seems to love this group a lot. )
( I can't help but think that if I were in her shoes, I'd feel hurt too not being able to see someone I admire so much… )
Hey, Hana-san… I know it’s not exactly the same as having it personally from him, but if it’s possible, I’d be more than willing to ask Ayato-san for an autograph on your behalf!
Hana: Eh—? Would you really do that for me!?
Yui-san, you are the best!
— hugs her —
Yui: I-It’s nothing, really.
Hana: Wait a little—! Now that I think about it, you could also totally grab a photo with them! Isn’t that wonderful?
( I can’t believe it! This way I’ll be just one person away from Ayato-san! )
Yui: Uuh… I’m sure it’d be a nice memory to look back on, but wouldn’t it bother you if I did? After all, you’ve been their loyal fan all this time, not me.
Besides, there’s no guarantee that they would agree to take a picture with an ordinary person such as myself.
Hana: That doesn’t matter, silly! They’re super chill with their fans, and everyone says they never turn down a picture request— unless they’re busy, of course. There’s no way they’d refuse you, especially not in a setting like this.
You also mentioned being captivated by Ayato-san’s visuals, so fan or not, I think anyone would jump at the chance to take a picture with such a fine man~!
Yui’s monologue
Hana-san and I continued to talk about it for a while, and during our conversation, she suggested a few of their songs for me to listen to on my way back to the Airbnb.
At first, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but as I played each one, I was pleasantly surprised.
While I’m still not very knowledgeable about this group, the melodies, the lyrics, and even the energy in their performances were captivating in a way I hadn’t expected.
That Ayato boy… he seems like someone who was born to be on stage. Such charisma and beauty… It really makes me wonder how he acts off-cameras.
Hana-san has clearly supported the SAKAMAKIS for such a long time, and to finally get the chance to meet them, only to have it slip through her fingers, must be heartbreaking.
A part of me can’t shake the feeling of guilt, even though I know very well that it wasn’t my or anyone’s fault.
It might not be a fair comparison, I know, but it reminded me of the boy I met yesterday.
He has probably forgotten about me already, but just like Hana-san dreams of meeting her idols, I find myself wishing to meet him again.
Author’s note:
* In case you're wondering why Ayato is sharing a room with Shu and not Laito, many companies assign roommates to idols randomly. The idea is that idols are supposed to get along with everyone, so the arrangement is made to promote harmony and teamwork, regardless of personal preferences.
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Can't Stand It
A/N: Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial.
Warnings: Bad boss. Please let me know if I missed any!
Summary: Working at a fancy restaurant with a demanding boss, you're starting to reach your limits. So is your favorite customer.
You're grinding your teeth in frustration and your shift hasn't even started yet. It's not that you don't like the work you do, it's just the people you have to work with, specifically your boss. If you could be a waitress for a boss that didn't insist on waving his dick around, sometimes literally, you'd be happy to do the job.
Instead, Mr. Hansen has you working the worst shifts for collecting tips and making sure your schedule is unpredictable. You know it's because you turned down his advances. Go figure, he can't handle being turned down.
Some of your favorite customers have asked after you, including Mr. Levinson, or Ari, as he insists you call him. You heard through some of your coworkers that Mr. Hansen got some harsh words from Ari because you weren't working your usual shifts. You smile at the thought of someone putting that asshole in his place.
You're doing your prep working and just trying to avoid Hansen so you don't have to fake your smile so much to your customers. Most of them don't care about fake smiles, but the big tippers always seem to appreciate the genuine ones.
Talia interrupts your work telling you, "Mr. Levinson just arrived. I made sure to seat him in your section."
"Thank you, so much!" You're definitely smiling for real now.
She gives a playful scoff. "I did it as much for me as for you. If Levinson found out you were working and I didn't seat him in your section I don't doubt I'd get an earful."
"Still, thank you so much."
Heading out the dining area, you make right for Ari. You'd never admit it, but between his ocean blue eyes, long hair, and strong physique, he's definitely shown up in several of your dreams. Your face heats up as you recall some of them. You have to stop for a moment and shake your head to clear up your thoughts.
Ari smiles wide when he sees you. "It's about time I got to see you again!"
"Yeah, my schedule's been crazy," you tell him as you hand him a menu. You omit the reason for the crazy schedule as it wouldn't do to set Hansen off again.
"So I gathered," his voice softens as he takes the menu from you.
The two of you chat a little before you get his drink order and head to the kitchen to grab it.
"There you are!" Hansen yells as soon as you're in the kitchen. "Where the hell have you been? Your prep work is sloppy and, worse yet unfinished. You wanna tell me what you've been doing?"
"My job," you snipe back. "I have a customer and I need to get their drink."
"We don't get customers at this time," he shoots back. "I made sure to schedule you for now specifically because of that."
"Well you can go out and look for yourself, Mr. Hansen. Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta get the man his drink."
Bringing Ari's drink to him, you try to plant your smile back as it was before your encounter. Unfortunately for you he's very observant.
"What happened?" His tone is kind and your smile turns a little more genuine.
"Just a little spat is all," you shrug. "It happens, you know?"
His expression turns stern. "Is someone giving you trouble?"
"Well, yes, but that's what bosses do, right?" You try to make sure there's a joking tone in your voice but his expression indicates he isn't buying it.
"Do you like your job? Do you enjoy working here?"
"Honestly," your voice quavers. "I can't stand it. My coworkers are okay but my boss is killing me. He keeps jumping my shifts around and is metaphorically on my ass all the time because I refused to let him literally be on me."
Ari's fist tightens in frustration. "Come work for me." You'd say it's an offer but his anger makes it sound more like an order. When you hesitate he continues, "I need someone reliable and friendly as my secretary. My current one keeps putting off clients with his cold, sarcastic demeanor. I can promise you it'll pay better than this job. And your schedule will be a lot more stable."
You hear a loud crash in the kitchen, followed by Hansen shouting at everyone and everyone.
"I'm in," you tell him, holding out your hand.
Ari takes your hand in his, giving it a firm shake. "Happy to have you aboard. Can I watch as you tell Hansen you're quitting?"
You laugh, "sure!"
As he follows you into the kitchen, you don't notice Ari's eyes on you. He was just hoping to ask you for a date, but he's not one to turn down an opportunity to get to spend more time with you. He's hopeful you'll feel the same about him.
Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63
#flash fiction friday#fff287#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x female!reader#ari levinson x waitress!reader
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So. Listen.
What this scene gave to me is that what happened totally ran out of Bison's control.
At first glance, yes, it makes sense that someone threatened to be shot will take their chances by jumping into the water. However.
Bison knows Kant as someone who always has an answer to everything, even if half of them are lies.
Bison at least somewhat knows Kant as an instinctual survivor, even if Kant doesn't directly show that side of himself to Bison.
Bison is at this point very sure he knows how Kant will react in a given moment, simply because his knee-jerk mode is always the same. He always has an answer, he always tries to appease, he will in any case reassure Bison of his own feelings for him, no matter the situation.
So all of this put together, for Bison it was 100% to be expected that Kant would reassure him, and even more important react to him beyond a "please calm down".
I know people have slightly different interpretations of why Kant was checked out so hard, so I am going on my own interpretation here. I know from personal experience what having a deep-sitting trauma being triggered feels like - and i don't even know how bad it must be with flashbacks triggered, which Kant seemed to experience as well. To me, that's what I saw happening with Kant. His mind was so consumed by his trauma and fear at that moment that he wasn't able to deal with Bison, or the gun, or the questions.
And while Bison probably used his knowledge of Kant generally being afraid of the ocean to put more pressure on him while holding him at gunpoint and questioning him, he pretty sure didn't expect to have the situation go out of hand so easily. Overall he set the situation up to be able so that he would be able to interrogate Kant (even if it was only about his feelings, but he might have pressed for motives etc if he actually had gotten any answers). But Kant only asked him for Bison to please take him away from the situation at hand, and beyond that he didn't get any answers, he didn't get any reactions beyond Kant being scared to death - but the primary source of that fear was pretty obviously not himself.
Bison being already incredibly frustrated and hurt and betrayed and probably incredibly conflicted over what to do with Kant and especially the situation defaulted to threats, because that is probably how he usually gets answers.
Kant meanwhile had most of his mind being eaten by the incredible despair of being faced with the full force of his (most likely completely untreated) trauma, and in such moments it's hard to even grasp a proper thought, or follow your usual instincts. And when faced with a command at gunpoint by the person he both loves and betrayed so badly, it was probably the easiest to relent, to give in and take that step to just have things end somehow. Standing up to being shot would probably have needed resolve that he didn't have anymore at that moment. So he jumped.
I am 100% sure that Bison didn't expect that, based on every way he knows Kant. And we know that Bison is a person who needs control. This situation though that by all means should have been completely under his control spiraled out of said control so fast that Bison wasn't able to stop it.
I honestly wouldn't be the tiniest bit surprised if the first thing that Bison will do next episode is throw away the gun, dive after Kant and try to rescue him while asking him why he jumped, why he didn't fight back over and over and over.
Khaotung Thanawat as Bison (The Heart Killers, 2024-2025)
#the heart killers the series#argh i am in my feel again over this scene#tysm op lovely set#god i really need another gif tag to use when things are this desperate
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Some more telanovela Rookanis ideas but now I'm thinking about Caterina who's made her peace with Rook staying in Lucanis life but still wants him to have a proper wife especially since its not like Lucanis or Rook have made any sort indication that they plan to get married anytime soon so it shouldn't be much of an issue to arrange a marriage for Lucanis while Rook stays as his mistress.
It's not like Caterina hasn't tried to arrange something for Lucanis before because she's been wanting great grandbabies to carry on the Dellamorte name for years but Lucanis simply never seemed interested. Now that Lucanis is with someone Caterina thinks there may be a chance for her to get him engaged to someone suitable for his station.
So Caterina starts reaching out to allied Houses and even some merchant princes to arrange something. Suddenly Villa Dellamorte is getting visits from different well bred girls to try their luck in catching the eye of the First Talon. It doesn't work at all. Lucanis politely refuses all their advances without even properly acknowledging their suits and even takes to making grand and public gestures of affection towards Rook in hopes of deterring them and assuring Rook that his heart still lies with her.
Rook knows Lucanis loves her and only her, has no worries about their relationship, and knows this all has to be Caterina's doing. Still, Rook is actually pretty jealous and possessive and absoutley seething about this disrecpt to her, Lucanis, and their relationship. Rook manages to keep her cool about the sitation and let Lucanis handle the situation however he sees fit but snaps when one of Lucanis' suitors says some dumb shit about not minding Rook staying around as the mistress.
There's this banter between Neve and Emmrich about a charm seller in Tevinter that is scamming people with fake magical charms. Emmrich is appalled by the danger it represents to the public and suddenly the guy is seeing and hearing things and essentially just being haunted to hell and back. Well, pretty much anyone that comes around attempting to woo Lucanis goes home suffering many of the same symptoms. Seeing things out of the corner of their eye, voices whispering and laughing about their worst secrets and insecurities, their nights filled with unending nightmares.
Anyone tries to ask Rook about the sudden uptick in hauntings and Rook plays dumb. Comes up with some vapid excuse full of jargon that any actual necromancer would spot immediately and acts so concerned about the issue but she doesn’t crack and it’s a little scary just how well Rook is able to lie to everyone’s faces because if it weren’t incredibly obvious that Rook had to be the one behind the hauntings, they’d probably believe her. Teia resolves to never get on Rook’s bad side and Viago is pondering how best to create a hallucinogenic to simulate the effects because the way Rook has crippled whole Houses with fear is inspiring. Illario is suddenly doing a whole lot to try to to get into Rook’s good books and Rook is so off put by his behavior that’s she tells him to please stop and go back to being the bitch he is, she honestly likes him better that way.
Lucanis skirts around the issue with Rook and continues to try to assure her that he loves her and only her to which Rook responds that she knows and loves him too but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to sit idly by while people disrespect the depths of their love for each other which is about as close as to a confession Rook gives. Spite asks Rook about it too on a late night after Lucanis has gone to bed and Rook’s response to him is basically “yeah” and Spite lets out the most gleeful cackle Rook’s ever heard because he is delighted by her spiteful vengeance.
The hauntings start to taper off once Lucanis’ suitors stop coming around and the girl that started all this even came to Rook to beg her to make it all stop. Rook, still pretty pissed about her comments, continued to play dumb and essentially gaslit her the whole conversation but did stop the haunting a few days later because she’s not a monster and did feel a little bad the whole situation.
In the end Caterina’s scheme backfired horribly on her as it damaged her relationship with many of the houses she reached out for and strengthened Rook’s own position in the Crows because before she was generally seen as charming, affable, a little creepy due to the whole necromancer thing, and a bit foolish due to Rook’s willingness to make herself the butt of a joke but no one really took her seriously due to mismatch of her personality and reputation as a god killer so most of the Houses assumed her feats were exaggerated, now everyone is kinda terrified of Rook and what she can do. Whereas before people might have yielded to the former First Talon when she called in a favor, now they have to consider whether it would be worth it to cross scary necromancer Rook to do so. Rook basically ends up with a reputation amongst the Crows intimidating enough to match with the Demon of Vyrantium.
During and after this Rook probably gets a few letters from the Necropolis mostly from Emmrich, Myrna, and Vorgoth as they definitely heard about the uptick in hauntings in Antiva and every single one of those letter essentially amounted to asking Rook “really?” to which Rook replied “yes and I feel perfectly justified in doing so” but in more words and without ever outright admitting to her actions.
It’s also after all this that Lucanis officially asks Rook to marry him, something they had been holding off on because they wanted to spend some time finding their footing in their relationship before jumping into the craziness of planning a wedding. Lucanis doesn’t want anyone thinking he isn’t serious about Rook after everything that just happened and Rook gets her chance for revenge against Caterina because now she’s going to have to contend with Vorgoth in the wedding planning process. Vorgoth has been putting together a binder of all their wedding ideas for Rook for years and is very excited to finally be able to execute them.
#rookanis#rook#rook ingellvar#lucanis dellamorte#caterina dellamorte#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#datv
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⋆. 𐙚 ˚ִֶָ mullet!stan pines x farmer's daughter!reader ♡༉‧₊˚.
honestly idk what happened i just wrote this in like 40 minutes because the idea wouldn’t leave me alone, i never write this fast sorry for the random but i love that dynamic 🤍
Gravity Falls market days were a real mess you’d grown up in but never quite adjusted to. the sun sat high and too mean, slanting golden light across the rows of wooden stalls and voices carried sharp over the sound of shuffling feet. you didn’t mind the noise because it made the hours feel faster.
your hands worked quickly, sorting the last of the peaches into the old wicker basket, as you clearly remembered your mom’s words “don’t bruise the fruit, honey; folks don’t buy what looks spoiled.” you smoothed your palm over the fabric of your overalls, standing up straight to greet the next customer and—
he wasn’t what you expected and you weren’t sure what to make of him. broad shoulders under a faded red jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets, huge dark bags under his eyes. he looked rough, unpolished you'd say, like he’d stepped out of a life far removed from your quiet one and found himself here by accident.
he nodded toward your baskets. “how much for the peaches?”
you sized him up. “depends,” you answered. “you actually gonna pay?”
that caught him off guard, did he really look that bad? his lips twitched into grin. “didn’t know this place came with an interrogation.”
“it’s not interrogation,” you shot back, leaning against the edge of the stall. “it’s just business. besides, you look like the type to run off with free samples.”
he laughed then. “well, guess you caught me,” he held his hands up like he’d been caught red-handed. “but im starving here. what’s it gonna take to get one of—”
“ahh, you must be the scientist everyone talks about.” you interrupted him, shifting the basket awkwardly against your hip.
“uh right, that's me.”
“mom mentioned you,” you continued, even though he didn't seem in the mood for conversation. “said you were. . . weird.” the word came out of your mouth before you even realized it, and your cheeks instantly flushed. great. off to a fantastic start.
but he didn't seem offended. on the contrary, he looked amused, slightly raising his eyebrows. “weird, huh?”
“her words, not mine,” you explained quickly, though it wasn't exactly untrue. “but yeah. she said you moved out here to study something? bugs? dirt?”
he chuckled. “somethin’ like that. but im pretty hungry. so what’s it gonna take to get one of those?”
you should’ve turned him away, told him to come back with cash like everyone else. but your gut told you he’d actually gone a little too long without a decent meal. yeah, thats how bad he looked.
so you reached into the basket and handed him one.
“on the house,” you said.
he blinked at you, caught somewhere between surprise and suspicion. “seriously?”
“just this once,” you warned. “but if you come back, i expect full price.”
“aww, isn't that adorable, thank you, sweetie.” he took the peach, turning it over in his hands. “heard people here mentioning you're generous girl.”
...
the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as you ride your bicycle down the lonely country road. the day has been long, filled with selling farm food. your hat shields your face from the fading light, but a chill is settling in as the evening approaches.
the basket on your bike rattled with what was left of the day’s haul, less than you’d hoped for but enough to keep the house running another week. your legs ached from pedaling though. the cold was creeping in now.
when the headlights appeared behind you, cutting through the soft twilight, you almost didn’t notice. but then the car slowed, pulling up beside you and you heard the window roll down.
“need a lift?” a smoky voice asked.
it was him. Stanford. the same red jacket, the same grin. he surely hadn’t been expecting to see you but was damn happy about it anyway.
you hesitated as you looked at him and his car, tightening your hands around the handlebars. “and leave my bike?”
“throw it in the back,” he told you, jerking his thumb toward the back seat. “unless you’re real set on freezing out here.”
you glanced at the empty road stretching ahead of you, then back at Stanford. he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to offer something for nothing, but he also didn’t seem like the kind to push it if you said no.
so you nodded. Stanley gave you a reassuring smile. “hop in, toots. it's getting cold.” you let him haul the bike into the back before climbing into the passenger seat. the warmth from inside is immediate, a stark contrast to the cool evening air.
he didn’t say much at first, just flicked on the radio and kept his eyes on the road. but then, without looking over, he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to you.
“here, take this. it’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm.”
you took the fabric and when you putted it around your shoulders, you felt the softness of it against your skin, grateful for the gesture. “thank you,” it was too big, the sleeves hanging loose past your wrists, but it was so warm. although it smelled very strongly of cigarettes.
he shrugged modestly. “no problem. it’s the least i can do after the way you treated me last week.”
“so,” he said after a beat, glancing over with that same crooked grin. “what’s a farmer’s daughter doin’ out on the road this late?”
you pulled the jacket tighter around you. “work doesn’t stop just ‘cause the sun goes down.”
“hard worker, huh? guess your mom was right about you.”
you glanced at him in surprise and furrowed your brow. “you keep bringing up my mom like you actually know her.” you said suspiciously.
“ran into her a couple weeks ago,” he admitted. “she was real proud, talkin’ ‘bout how her daughter’s the backbone of the farm.”
heat rose to your cheeks and you turned your gaze back to the road. “she talks too much.”
“nah, she’s just proud of you.” this time, you stayed quiet, letting the hum of the engine carry you the rest of the way home.
...
the next time you see him, it’s at the farm on early morning, when dew still clings to the grass and the sky’s a pale, watercolor wash. you’d barely had time to start on your chores when that same old car rumbled down the dirt track.
Stanley stepped out, wearing that red jacket you’d given back last night, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “you forgot your bike.”
“you didn’t have to bring it all the way here.” you smiled shyly
“well,” he glanced around, assessing the place, “figured you could use it more than i could. besides, wasn’t much of a detour.”
in addition, it was the first time Stan met your dog as he stayed at the farm to try the freshly baked apple pie that you offered.
you were hauling a basket of fresh vegetables from the field when you heard a low, warning growl. you looked up, biting back a grin. “she won’t bite.”
“uh-huh,” Stan said, standing frozen in place as the big scruffy mutt circled him.
you set the basket down, whistling low, and your dog trotted over, tail wagging now that you’d given the all-clear. “this is Molly,” you said, ruffling her ears. “dont worry, she’s just protective.”
Stan crouched slowly, one knee to the dirt, sticking his hand out like he was afraid she might lunge. Molly sniffed him once, then pressed her head against his palm, tail thumping in approval.
“well, look at that,” he said, scratching behind her ears. his hands are so big, calloused, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Molly leaned into his hand, letting out a pleased huff. “she likes me.”
but then Molly rolled over, flopping onto her back in the dust and he laughed. “spoiled,” he said, rubbing her belly as she wagged her tail.
“you don’t even know the half of it. she gets the best scraps off the table. mom says it’s why she’s got such shiny fur.”
Stan grinned. “lucky dog.” oh, how he wished he could be in Molly's shoes. to be needed at least by someone, to be taken care of, to be fed. “so, you sellin’ this week?”
you nodded, but your gaze drifted toward the fields. there was still so much work left to do, rows and rows of crops waiting to be picked and sorted. you sighed, already feeling the ache in your arms.
Stan seemed to catch on. “well, if you’re ever lookin’ for extra hands, i know a guy who owes you a couple favors.”
...
you don’t know why you start bringing him food. it’s not like Stanley asked for it and he’s certainly not the kind of man who’d admit if he needed it. but you, the sweetest girl in town, noticed how he looked that first day at the market, hunger written all over him like and that makes it impossible not to.
it started with a couple of peaches tucked into a paper bag which you carefully left on the counter of the Mystery Shack with a quick, “thought you might want something fresh.” but then it grew into a jar of honey. then. . . in a bundle of wildflowers tied with twine.
one day, you showed up with a loaf of bread so fresh it was still warm, wrapped in an old tea towel embroidered with little sunflowers. Stanley was tinkering with something behind the counter, muttering something about journals but when he saw you, he stopped, wiping his hands on his pants.
“you know, you don’t have to keep bringing me this stuff,” he said even as he took the loaf from your hands.
“i know, yeah, but you’re always here, and I figured. . . well, everyone deserves a decent meal now and then.” he looked at you for a long moment, longer than felt normal, trying to figure out if you were pulling some kind of trick.
“thanks,” he said your name. “that means a lot.”
and it becomes a thing, fresh eggs one day, a loaf of bread the next. you don’t stay long when you drop them off, because Stanford always says he's kinda busy here, dealing with some of his "scientific research”, so you quickly greet him, maybe say some comment about the weather, but every damn time he sees you, his face softens, genuine smile appearing on it, his shoulders relax too. maybe you’re not just bringing food but something else he’s been missing.
and sometimes, Stanley feels too lonely, so he pulls out an old chair and offers you coffee, the two of you sitting on the porch while he tells you about his life.
#gravity falls#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls x you#x reader#gravity falls smut#stan pines x reader#stan pines smut#stanley pines smut#stanley pines x you#stan pines#young stan pines#stanley pines x reader#stanley pines#mullet stan#mullet stan x reader#gravity falls fanfic#gravity falls headcanons
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Tangerine x stripper fem!reader
Mini-series summary: When Tangerine opened an underground strip-club to cover for his murder-for-hire business operation, he wasn't expecting to become so easily distracted by one girl in particular.
Chapter summary: Accidentally walking into something you shouldn't have causes you to learn about Tangerine's real business, effectively creating a rift between you and him (4.8k) + epilogue (1.6k)
Warnings: blood, violence, slut shaming, murder, drugs, alcohol, guns, illusions to sexual assault and mentions of death but nothing happens, still a happy ending!
credit : @little-miss-dilf-lover 🤍🤍 thank you endlessly!
BAD FOR BUSINESS MASTERLIST
You're sitting on Tangerine's desk during your break. He's working on his laptop, listening to you blabber with intention, only half focused on his work. Instead, his focus is drawn to the way you cross your legs, the baby-blue babydoll dress you're wearing tonight hugs your curves and that bow in your hair is making him lose focus.
You've barely touched your yogurt and Tangerine flips a page, interrupting you: "You should eat, love." He reminds you and you nod, taking another spoonful.
"And then Nicola told him to fuck off," you continue, through your mouthful, "which was hilarious. You should have seen his face! Scummy bastard! Annette and I were laughing so hard," you laugh at your own story. Tangerine seems a little less amused.
"Is Nicola okay? Customers should not be making comments like that."
You smile a little, placing your yogurt on his desk and leaning closer to him. One of your heels rests on his chair now, your hand playing with his hair. "She's fine, babe, you know we can take care of ourselves."
Tangerine looks up now, his gaze stern. "Yeah, I know," he says and then sighs, "I just worry."
"I know," you laugh and kiss his cheek. You sit up and jab your spoon into your yogurt again. "Honestly, I don't even know why you do this job. You hate anything to do with this business."
Tangerine is quiet. He turns to his laptop again, your words sinking in. If only you knew, he thinks.
"I don't hate you," he says softly, almost embarrassed. He feels shitty. He wishes he could tell you the truth about what this is, and he wishes he could officially ask you to be his girl. He wishes for a lot of things he can't fulfill.
Not now.
You smile, opening your mouth to say something else, when the door suddenly swings open. Startled, you stand up and adjust your little dress, suddenly self-conscious at being caught in your boss's office during your break. No one usually comes in, especially unannounced.
Tangerine stands as well, discreetly putting himself in front of you as a tall, lanky man dressed in a grey suit walks in. His hair is jet black and he has rectangular glasses perched on his nose that hide a dark pair of eyes. He looks a little older than Tangerine, maybe mid-thirties, and he pauses when he sees you.
"Fucking our employees now, Tangerine," the man smirks. You recognize him as the other boss. He's barely around anymore, but you remember meeting him on your first week.
Unlike Tangerine, this man has always make your stomach feel queasy.
You tense a little and grab your yogurt from the desk you now realize Tangerine most likely shares with this man. Tangerine looks even tenser than you are and he turns to you, sending you a look that you read as "Go. Please."
You nod, quickly walking to the door and down the stairs. Tangerine relaxes a little once you're out the door but he continues to glare at Leo.
"No one is fucking anyone," he says as calmly as he can.
"In that suit, I'm not surprised you can't get a girl like her," Leo whistles, dropping his briefcase as he hangs his coat. "Which one was that already? Candy? Diamond? She's smoking hot."
Tangerine holds his tongue. He doesn't want Leo to know of his feelings for you so he just corrects him. "Angel. You should really know our employees' stage names by now."
Leo rolls his eyes as he walks over, picking up a folder. "They're strippers. Who cares?" He reads over the documents and then looks up at Tangerine. "Thanks for taking over when I was away, mate, why don't you go take a break, hm?"
Tangerine's jaw clenches. He hates how Leo thinks he can boss him around when he's always the one doing the work. He hesitates for a moment. Usually, he isn't afraid to call Leo out on his bullshit but he has more important things to worry about than his ego. He wants to check on you.
He didn't even get to kiss you goodbye.
"Oi, T," Leo calls just as Tangerine walks out the door. Tangerine groans and peeks his head back into the room, an annoyed look on his face. "Meeting tonight, remember?" Leo's words ring in Tangerine's ears and his expression falters for a moment.
He'd completely forgotten.
"Ya, I remember," he says roughly, his voice strained as he ignores the impending doom he feels in his stomach as he turns to rush down the stairs to find you.
* * *
You slip on your mary-janes, grab your woolen coat, and hurry out the door. It's late and you're the last girl here. You've been having this awful habit of daydreaming lately, your stomach filled with butterflies as you remember Tangerine's lips on yours, his hands caressing your skin. You shake the thoughts, turning to lock the backroom with the spare keys you have.
You hum, thinking back to the words Tangerine had whispered in your ear when he'd found you after you'd hurried from his office. You make me happy. You feel your cheeks warm as you remember the quick kiss he'd given you in the dark corner near the bathroom and how stupid it is that he manages to make that sketchy corner into something so romantic.
You'd usually leave from the backdoor, but tonight you decide to walk through the lounge in case Tangerine hasn't gone home yet. Sometimes, he waits for you without even needing to be asked. However, this time, the lounge is empty.
You look up, seeing that the blinds to Tangerine's office are shut but that the light is on. You can see faint movement behind the blinds and the movements pique your interest.
Is Tangerine working late?
It hadn't even crossed your mind to remember Leo's arrival just a few hours earlier.
You walk up the stairs, holding your bag over your shoulder. You can hear hushed voices; multiple male voices you don't recognize and your stomach flips with nerves. You know you should turn around, you really should, but you don't.
You're too curious.
The office door isn't fully closed and without thinking, you gently push on it with your open palm, freezing when you peer inside. There are four men in the room; all of them are large and scary with various guns displayed on their bodies. They're laughing obnoxiously, discussing something about a latest kill.
You bite the inside of your cheek, scanning the room as you listen in. You see Tangerine and Leo in the center, leaning over the desk as they look at what appears to be plans of some sort. More guns lay on the desk and the entire room smells like smaok and drugs.
"40 million quid for three men dead, easy," one man laughs, flicking his cigar into the ashtray.
Leo chuckles, clapping Tangerine on the back. "What do you say, mate? Sounds like a good one, hm?"
Tangerine nods, still looking over the plan, his eyebrows pinched. "I suppose three kills is simple."
You're frozen in shock. Kills? 40 million? Your mind can't seem to wrap your head around what's happening. You look at Tangerine and for the first time in weeks, you don't recognize the man you're looking at. You back up, holding your breath.
You need to get out of here.
"Bloody hell, who do we have here?" A man's hoarse voice echoes around the room and suddenly, his hand is wrapping around your arm and dragging you inside.
Your bag falls to the ground. You let out a gasp, squirming in the man's grip but he holds you still. He's much taller than you and much stronger. He smells like alcohol and you can see the gun on his hip and you hold your breath in fear.
The men whistle at your entrance, laughing amongst themselves. The only man who isn't finding this amusing is Tangerine; he's tense, his dark blue eyes locked with yours as he wears an expression you can't read, but his chest is rising and falling rapidly.
"Oh, look who it is, it's Angel again," Leo barks a cruel laugh, sauntering around the desk as he approaches you slowly. His hand raises and he caresses your cheek with his knuckles. You wince, pulling away from his touch as if he's burning you and Leo pouts, faking pity.
"This one of yer strippers?" a man asks. He's much older than the others, his hair whitening, and he's grinning at you like one of your customers would.
Leo nods, wrapping his hand in your hair to keep you from squirming again. "Yup," he pops the "p" and grins, "Isn't she just a prize? Tangerine sure knows how to pick 'em."
Tears brim in your eyes at the implication. What had he told them? You look at him, watching him just stand there. He hasn't moved or said a word.
You're shaking now, terrified at being trapped in this situation. You aren't usually helpless but they're outnumbering you, and they have guns.
Leo pulls on your hair a little, making you gasp in pain again. The other man wraps his arm around your waist, grinning.
"You shouldn't have wandered in here, little mouse," Leo whispers. He smiles when he sees the tears on your cheeks. "Because you know what this means, hm? Can't have you scurrying off and snitching on us—"
Your eyes widen and you squirm harder. "No-no-no please, I won't tell anyone! Please. Tangerine!" You sob, angling yourself towards Tangerine as you try and yank yourself out of the man's grip.
The other men look towards him. "Ya close with the stripper?" One snarls, his smirk evident.
Leo keeps his hand in your hair, pulling on it to shut you up. You muffle your sobbing in fear of angering them anymore. Tangerine doesn't speak, his gaze intense, and the men take that as a no. Leo turns to you again and laughs. "Such a shame. She's so pretty. She must bring us a lot of money."
"Can I have a turn with her before we kill her?" The man holding your waist asks, earning some raucous laughter and agreement from the others and you feel defeated. You keep looking at Tangerine, pleading with your eyes as you cry softly.
Leo untangles his hand from your hair and nods. "Sure, have your fun, boys. I don't fuck used goods," he laughs cruelly and embarrassment washes over you. "Now, where were we?" He looks at the plans again, clearly disinterested in what's happening to you.
The man holding you slides his hand up your stomach but before he can touch you more intimately, Tangerine's voice interrupts; "No," he says plainly. You sniff, struggling weakly now as it hurts to move in the men's arms. You watch him take his gun and slide it into the waistband of his trousers behind him. Leo looks up, confused.
"My turn," Tangerine says, walking over and snapping his fingers. The men release you, making it clear Tangerine has authority. Your stomach sinks. Why hadn't he helped you then? You glance between him and Leo, not completelyunderstanding the dynamic, but as soon as you're not being held, you make a run for it.
You don't get very far because Tangerine grabs you and holds you close to him. You cry, hitting him as you scream and thrash against his body.
"Let me go! Please! Please!" Your head is spinning and everything begins to hurt. You can smell his cologne, a smell that was so familiar and reassuring now feels tainted and wrong. When he wraps his hand around your mouth, you gasp for air and dig your nails into his wrist, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but only tightens his hold on you.
"Shut up," he growls in your ear. You can hear his heart thumping in his chest and you begin to calm down so that you can breathe properly.
The other men watch in amusement. "Feisty little mouse," one exclaims. They all laugh.
"I'll take care of her," Tangerine says hoarsely, breathing heavily, still holding you so you don't move and the more he speaks, the harder you want to cry, "This little slut has been teasing me for weeks. She owes me," he pauses, and his voice is a little shaky, "and then I'll get rid of her."
The other men seem disappointed but Leo smirks, "No funny business, hm?"
Tangerine nods, his voice steady. "No. I'll be back in an hour."
The men all laugh and whistle and Tangerine presses his lips to your ear. "Don't scream when I move my hand, okay? Please." He whispers the last part for only you to hear and your chest tightens. Your vision is blurred with tears but when he removes his hand, you find yourself obeying him.
Some desperate part of is still hoping he'll save you.
He's rough as he yanks you with him down the stairs. Dread fills you and you start crying again, trying desperately to run in the opposite direction. Tangerine doesn't reprimand you for the noise as he pulls out outside and into a small alley near the bulging, the door slamming shut behind you. You're not screaming anymore, only crying.
"Please don't hurt me," you sob, trembling as he pushes you against the brick wall. "Please," you plead with him. Tangerine doesn't answer but his gaze is dark. He reaches behind him and grabs his gun, unlocking it. You break down in tears, your hands shaking.
You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting him to press the barrel to your head, but instead, you feel his familiar warmth as he rests both hands against the wall near your head, and his forehead hovers over yours as he inhales shakily. You hiccup, still very obviously terrified.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his hands curling into fists on the wall. "I'm so sorry."
You choke on a sob.
Tangerine pulls away, his hand hovering over your cheek as if he wants to wipe your tears away but instead, he drops it to his side and looks into your eyes. "Run. Go home," he pauses and you can see that his own eyes look glossy with tears. "Don't come back. Please. Stay away. I'm so fuckin' sorry, angel," he says.
Your voice is caught in your throat.
"I love you," he continues and you just stare at him. You're unable to move. You don't know how to process any of this information.
Tangerine panics and slams his hand on the wall. "Go! Now!" he screams and you gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you push past him and run down the dark street, not even knowing where you're running to and you don't look back. You feel queasy and you can't wrap your head around what just happened as the scene replays in your head.
Isn't she just a prize? Tangerine sure knows how to pick 'em.
I don't fuck used goods.
Don't come back. Please. Stay away. I'm so fuckin' sorry, angel.
I love you.
Back in the alley, Tangerine punches into the brick wall with a quiet shout.
* * *
Tangerine slams the door to his apartment, cursing loudly as he throws off his blazer. His eyes are bloodshot and he sniffles, sinking into his favorite armchair and holding his head in his hands. Tangerine doesn't cry. He hasn't cried in years, but for the first time, he can't help himself.
"What happened?" Lemon yawns, clearly having been woken up by the door slamming. When he sees the state his brother is in he pauses, his expression twisting. He stands in front of the armchair, unsure how to deal with this.
"T," he begins.
"She walked in on us," Tangerine states, his voice trembling. He fists his hair in his hands, clearly frustrated. "Y/n. She heard everything and they– they– scared 'er. They hurt 'er and I- just stood there and did absolutely fuckin' nothing!"
Lemon is quiet as Tangerine stands and begins to pace the living room. He doesn't know how to help. "Tangerine," he tries again, walking closer, "It's okay. You couldn't have done anything– not with Leo and the others in the room—she'll understand—"
"Understand?" Tangerine spits, his anger only directed at himself, "She can't come back to work, because of this. I had to make the think I- I- killed her. God, Lemon, I can never see her again. I ruined everything. But, I couldn't hurt her. I could never hurt her. I- she– she might call the cops on us—"
Lemon grips his nape, holding him still. "Y/n wouldn't tell anyone."
Tangerine stares into his brother's eyes. "She would have every right to, Lemon. And that's not the point, I— They– fuck–"
He breaks down, remembering your scared expression and how he had done nothing, and leans his head on Lemon's shoulder. "I ruined the only good fuckin' thing I had going for me. I really fucked up."
Lemon just holds him, not sure what to do or say to make this better.
* * *
You've been spending the last four days in bed, crying your heart out. You've shut your phone off. You've been ignoring all the worried texts and calls from your friends, missing all your uni classes and of course, missing your job.
Don't come back.
Tangerine's words ring in your ears and you press a pillow against them, curling up in a ball. You've been feeling sick since the encounter, remembering the men and their words and the implications of their words. The way they looked, the way they talked, how they tried to touch you.
Tangerine was a criminal, they'd been preparing a kill. He kills people. You can't seem to wrap your head around it. Sure, he was always a little cold and he seemed extra gentle with you as if he was making up for something, but you would have never imagined this.
You sob harder into your pillow, your heart breaking.
A few hours later, you're in your kitchen when you hear the knock on your door and you pause. Your heart leaps. You're in an old, paint-stained shirt, and some worn-out sleep shorts. You hear the knock again and pause again. This time, you hurry across the floorboards and peek through the peephole. Your breath hitches in your throat and you frown.
You unlock the old latch from your old apartment door and open it. "Hello?"
Lemon tilts his head, catching your eye, "Hey," he says sheepishly, holding up a box that you assume contains a pastry. "Can I come in?"
You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Lemon wasn't in the room that night. He might not be involved. You know that's probably bullshit but curiosity gets the better of you again.
Plus, he has food and you're starving.
You open the door and let him in, holding out your hand for the pastry. Lemon smiles and hands it to you. He motions to the dining room and you nod. He follows you and you grab a fork silently, sitting down at your small table and opening the box.
You read the label; it's from your favorite bakery. The one you'd taken Tangerine to one weekend, on one of the outings you'd never outwardly said was a date. Inside is a chocolate croissant, your favorite, and your stomach twists.
You look up at Lemon who sat down in the chair opposite yours and he sends you a small smile. "He sent you, didn't he?"
Lemon nods. "He didn't think you'd want to see him."
You fiddle nervously with the box. "I don't want to see him," you say, your voice shaking a little.
Lemon nods again, clicking his tongue and looking down. "Listen, I know you're scared but my brother isn't a bad guy. He isn't. And he cares for you. A lot."
Tangerine's three-word confession rings in your ears and you can't deny the truth in Lemon's words. Still, you don't succumb that easily as your eyebrows crinkle.
"If he cares for me, as you say, he would have spoken up for me in that room."
Lemon sighs, "It isn't that simple. Tangerine and Leo–they have a complicated history and it would have been even more dangerous to speak out in a room full of—"
"Criminals," you finish for him, nodding. You close the pastry box, staring at Lemon with a hard expression. "You weren't there, Lemon. You can't understand how scary it was to be surrounded by a bunch of dangerous men, realizing you can't even trust the one man you thought you could."
Lemon listens, his gaze stuck on yours.
"Frankly, I don't think even think he meant it when he told me he loves me—"
Lemon's face twists and he shakes his head, clearly confused. "He told you he loves you?"
You pause, fiddling with the box again. "Yeah he did but—"
"No—no, my– my brother, he doesn't just say that to anyone. He doesn't say it if he doesn't mean it," Lemon says and you become quiet, hearing the solemn and serious tone in his voice, "And I know he fucked up, but now i really fuckin' think you should hear him out. He's outside, by his car. You should talk to him. And if you never want to see either of us again after, I promise we'll leave you alone. I promise, Y/n."
You ponder his words, looking up at him. Some part of you wants to ignore the knowledge that Tangerine is downstairs, waiting for you. You want to push him away, tell Lemon to fuck off and to never think about them again, but that's impossible.
I love you.
Tangerine's words are engraved in your memory. You can still feel his lips on your skin, the way he touches you with care, the way he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters. Your heart warms, just remembering how sweet he was.
And then you remember his hand covering your mouth, his harsh words, and your stomach drops.
You take a breath, grounding yourself. You don't know what to do, but some twisted fucked up part of you knows that if you don't go down and at least talk to him, you'll regret it forever.
"Okay," you say seriously and stand, walking into the living room and grabbing a hoodie. "One chance," you add, grabbing your keys. You lock your door behind you and then walk down the stairs behind Lemon.
Once the outside air hits your skin, you pause. Tangerine is standing by the car, just like Lemon said, and when he hears the door open he turns expectantly.
"What did she—" his voice falters when he sees you behind his brother. "Oh."
You're silent as you keep a distance from him. Lemon senses the tension and clears his throat. He excuses himself and turns to take a walk. Tangerine watches him leave, half hoping he'd stay. He turns to you again and shame contorts his expression. He walks forward only to have you back up against the building.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," Tangerine whispers, his voice quivering.
You glare at him, tightening your arms around you. The noise of the city fades into the background as you process his words. You shake your head, your voice is strained and you hope he can't tell you might burst into tears at any moment.
"How can I believe you? You lied."
Tangerine shakes his head. "I never lied to you."
"Well, you kept something from me! Something big!" you argue, your sadness turning into anger and when he walks forward again, you meet him and stab your hand in his chest, "Don't pretend you didn't have any opportunities to tell me! And don't pretend you didn't think I would have liked to know this is who my boyfriend really is!"
Tangerine blinks, his tongue skimming over his lips at the word boyfriend.
You stutter, "Potential boyfriend. Someone I was seeing—"
"I know," he interrupts you, running a hand in his hair. "I know I should have told you. I should have warned you before I started to become involved with you, okay? But can you blame me?"
"Well no," you interrupt and roll your eyes, "if I was a killer I wouldn't want anyone to know—"
Tangerine shakes his head, his gaze hard. "Y/n. It was never about me. I couldn't care less what happened to me. I mean, sure, it would hav' sucked and it will if you do tell anyone, but I truly don't care what happens to me—" his voice sounds stern again and your eyes are locked on his as you listen.
He walks closer and this time, you don't move. "I only cared for you. I care for you. I stayed awake at night dreading the very scenario that fuckin' happened. Imagining you looking at me the way you are now; with fear. Imagining worse— and it tore me up, darlin'."
You soak in his words, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Then why didn't you stop them? Why pretend to want to hurt me if you love me so much—" The word love falls from your lips and Tangerine's expression visibly tenses. Still, he tries to explain.
"Love, I had no choice," he says softly, "I was frozen in shock and I couldn't go against everyone in that room. You don't realize how worse that would have made the situation. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more."
You shake your head, your voice low because of the morning crowd in the street, and add, "No. You had a choice. You always have a choice. You chose to just stand there and then pretend to want to hurt me? Do you realize how fucked up that is?"
Tangerine's jaw tenses and he holds out his hand as if he wants to caress your cheek but he pauses, frowning. He drops his arm.
"You're right. I did make a choice," he admits after a moment, reflecting on your words, "and I did what I thought was my best option in the worst possible situation. I'm really sorry I wasn't what you needed at that moment, and darlin', if I could go back, I'd do anything to prevent you from walking into that room—anything to keep you safe—but I was trying to protect you, even if you can't see it—"
He pauses and you glance at his lips, your gaze flickering to his eyes once more. "And you don't have to forgive me. You can even keep being angry with me. I can live with anger, but I'm here because I don't want there to be a single part of you that thinks I didn't care for you. That I don't care for you, because I do. I just- I want you to know how much I care. How I would never hurt you like they wanted to. Never. I- I adore you, everything about you; how you drive me absolutely mad when you're away and how you involuntarily draw me in with your laughter whenever you're around—
And I'm a smitten fool to think I ever deserved you," Tangerine continues and his voice becomes softer, "I just, please know that my feelings for you are very real. Please know that hurting you like this was the last thing I ever wanted and it will haunt me forever because I love you. I love you so damn much it hurts."
There is that word again and you pause, heart beating as you listen to him. You find yourself leaning into him and you can clearly see tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at every word. They mirror your own and yet you can't find the words to answer him.
At least not until he sighs and turns to leave, and your chest tightens;
"No wait," you gasp instinctively, grabbing his wrist so he turns around. When he does, you wrap your arms around his neck, practically throwing yourself into his arms.
Tangerine's arms tighten across your middle, burying his face in your shoulder as he lets out a shaky breath. "Angel," he whispers as you tighten your hold on him too.
"I don't forgive you, not completely, not yet," you admit breathlessly, but hold onto him anyways. "But you promise you love me?" You ask in his ear, sounding insecure. "You promise you'll keep me safe? Promise it. Please."
"I fuckin' promise," he says instantly with no hesitation, as he strokes a hand down your hair to soothe you. "I love you. I promise I mean this."
You nod, taking a moment to pause and inhale his cologne. Your mind fills with words from his apology, words that don't feel like empty promises, and instead of the memories from that night, all you feel is safe again.
You pull away and look at him seriously. "And no more pretending you don't want me to be yours, okay? No holding back this time, not now that I know—"
Tangerine nods, his warm hand cupping your cheek, "No more pretending. You're mine. My girl. If you'd still like to be? If you'll have me?"
You crack a small smile, nodding, "I would like that," you say wearily, still holding back those three little words.
Tangerine understands and doesn't press you. His heart beams, threatening to leap at you as if offering himself. He drops his arms, tightens his hands on your hips, he pulls you in and he presses his lips to yours.
It's delicate and loving and he's taking his time, savoring you. You relax in his arms, cupping his cheek. You can't help but smile against his lips, which causes the same smile from Tangerine and you laugh as he rests his forehead on yours.
"I love you," he whispers again and deep down, you know he truly means it.
FIN ♡
Epilogue - 6 months later
It took a while for your relationship with Tangerine to return to normal. In fact, it took a while for anything to feel normal again. You'd lost your job, having to lay low for three months or so because Tangerine needed Leo to keep thinking you were dead. But he had promised it was going to be easy and over with. He was the one who had records—your real name—Leo didn't, he never did. Tangerine promised there was no way that bastard could reach you. That he wouldn't let him.
"He's not very bright," Lemon had promised you, not hiding his disdain for the man.
And you chose to believe them.
It had taken a few months to fully digest Tangerine's career. He's tried to explain the best he could that it wasn't fun for him. That is was his work and he was good at his job. He was good at taking down bastards who deserved it, for one reason or another.
"Think of it like a more illegal version of your future job—executing bastards who deserve it," Tangerine had said nonchalantly.
"A fucked up illegal version," you retorted, sending him a dirty look and Tangerine shrugs, holding your hand and squeezing.
It definitely took a while but eventually, you came to terms with his profession.
Because you'd lost your income, Tangerine had also promised to take care of you until you finished your studies. You ended up staying with him and Lemon after the first two months, and luckily the commute to the university from his apartment was far less distance than from yours.
And anyways, living with Lemon and Tangerine was proving more entertaining than you'd expected.
"Who hid my toothbrush?!" Lemon grumbles one evening, storming into the kitchen where Tangerine is making his famous pasta sauce. You're reading him your essay and pause, looking up from your laptop.
"You need it now? We haven't had dinner," you say, glancing at Tangerine with a small smirk as he cuts up some tomatoes.
Tangerine just rolls his eyes, ignoring his brother as he focuses on not chopping up his fingers. "No one hid your toothbrush, Lemon. We're fuckin' adults, not children," he says and glances at you, reaching over and tapping his finger on the counter near your laptop, "Wanna continue, my love? I'm really liking this one."
You laugh, looking at him with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, I bet you do, babe. It's on organized crime," you turn to look at Lemon, who seems a little less distressed over his toothbrush and now more invested in the conversation as he leans on the counter.
You turn back to Tangerine as he pours the tomatoes into a pan. "Y'know, if I end up working as a lawyer and you got caught for being some criminal mastermind, I could prosecute you."
Lemon barks a laugh, "Oi, don't jinx him!"
You frown, shaking your head. "I'm not! I'm just saying!"
Tangerine comes up and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Or you could represent me. Y'know, be my lawyer," he says and winks.
"How romantic," Lemon teases and walks over to read your essay over your shoulder. "This shit seems complicated as fuck."
"It is," you say and chew on your pencil as you read the notes you have next to your laptop.
"My smart girl," Tangerine hums, stirring the sauce now as he wipes his hand on his apron. Lemon smirks at him and walks behind him, ruffling his hair a little just to tease him for being such a softie for you. Tangerine pushes him off.
You're lost in thought, re-reading your essay in your head as the brothers argue playfully in the background.
Later that night, you're brushing your hair in the mirror while Tangerine trims his mustache. You're unusually quiet and he knows instantly that something is up. Still, he doesn't mention it until the lights are off and you're snuggled against his chest, his arm under your head as he plays with his hair and listens to the ceiling fan.
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?"
You hum, circling hearts on his chest as you snuggle against him. You hold your tongue until he taps your head, prompting you to answer him. "It's nothing," you whisper.
"Try me," Tangerine says into the darkness, his voice soft.
"I was joking back then but—what if it happens? What if one day, I have to represent you," you say after a moment of silence, your voice strained. "Or I have to actually prosecute you—"
Tangerine chuckles slowly, still stroking your hair. "I doubt you'll have to do any of those things, darlin', considering we're together—isn't that against your rules?"
You pause, holding him closer. "I mean yes and no but—" you pause, "what if, y-you don't come home because something went wrong or—you actually end up in prison," your voice fades and you go quiet again and Tangerine understands what this is about. He's never actually stopped to think about how you worry for him. How it must weigh on you, learning what you do, and to know all the things that could happen to him.
"Hey," he says and sits up to turn on the bedside lamp. He pulls you up with him and turns to look at you. "Sweetheart, nothing is gonna happen to me. I'm careful, ya know that." He strokes your cheek, wiping under your worried eyes as he taps your nose. "You have nothing to worry about."
You look at him, still worried. "But, how can you be so sure?"
Tangerine smiles and nuzzles his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. As much as he doesn't want you to worry about him like this, it's kind of endearing. He pulls away and pulls on your bottom lip, smiling. "Because there is nothing in this world that could keep me away from you. I won't let it happen."
His words warm your chest and you smile, leaning into his touch as you kiss him. His hands cup your face as you climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. Your hands find his hair as you kiss him, tasting him as if you're starved of him.
"Promise?"
Tangerine nods between kisses. "I promise, angel."
You continue to kiss him, occasionally rocking your hips into his as he groans softly into your lips. It's sensual and soft and you're both exhausted. Tangerine runs his hands up your back, holding you. "I love you," he says, sucking love bites onto your neck.
You hum and say, "I love you," back as you kiss him again and dip down to give him your own set of marks. He groans, happiness filling him as he reaches back for the lamp and manages to turn it off again, plunging you both in darkness again.
"Mine," he whispers against your hair and you nod.
"Yours."
* ~ *
my dear reader, this was such a fun mini-series and i am incredibly proud of the writing in this. i really hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it and sharing it with you all! xo
#tangerine#tangerine fic#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine fluff#tangerine angst#tangerine x reader#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine x y/n#tangerine x you#tangerine bullet train#tangerine bullet train x reader#tangerine bullet train x fem!reader#bullet train#bullet train movie#bullet train tangerine#aaron taylor johnson
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Hello! I love your art! Do you recommend the Italian sv translation? It's so much prettier than the English one i keep just going into bookshops and stroking it 🤣 But i haven't been able to justify the expense since I've already got them all in English 😭
Ahhh!! I'd say no??? I'm sorry as much as I'm having fun noticing all the differences between the English edition and the Italian one the more I read the more it becomes clear I should have just gone with the English edition (it's fine in the end cause I bought it when I was out with my friends and I was just very high on spirits!)
They got rid of all the suffixes as well as the glossary about them and the pronunciation guides at the end of the book. Being that there are no suffixes except Shizun (which they don't explain what it means btw, it is mentioned in the general glossary in the suffixes section which is very funny since they got rid of them all) sometimes the text becomes much longer because they need to explain a lot more.
"This was the most senior of the original Shen Qingqiu’s disciples, Luo Binghe’s shixiong, Ming Fan." becomes "Ming Fan era il più anziano tra i suoi discepoli e fratello marziale di Luo Binghe, ma sopra di lui nella scala gerarichica." ( Ming Fan was the most senior of his disiples and Luo Binghe's martial brother, but of higher hierarchy) It's not that bad but it makes everything a little bit longer. Also, all the names of the places have been translated, which is great for understanding but some names are a bit of a mouthful in Italian. They also keep repeating the translated sword's names, first, they go the "Xiuya sword" and right after there's "La spada dell'eleganza spirituale" which would be fine if it wasn't for the fact that it seems to be doing it multiple times AND the fact that the translated names are already available at the end of the book in the character profiles. Idk, maybe it gets better later on but it's irking me a little bit.
There are some diffrences that are very funny if not that they change how a character comes across.
YQY in English saying "Shidi, Don't be angry" has become "Smettila di prendertela con quel ragazzo" (Stop picking on that boy) which was so weird for him to say that it had me opening the English edition to check what he was saying.
When SQQ describes Ming Fan in English it goes "Ming Fan’s appearance was respectable enough, it was just that his face was a bit unfortunate, with a sharp mouth and sunken cheeks." In Italian it goes "Se non fosse stato per le labbra sottili e il volto che ricordava il muso di una scimmia, avrebbe avuto un aspetto accettabile" (If it wasn't for his thin lips and his face which resembled a monkey's snout, he would have looked acceptable) WHICH IS SO MUCH MEANER BUT FUNNY- MING FAN MY POOR BOY.
But now I got to a bit that actually made me a bit annoyed. Like, it doesn't make sense in Italian.
When the system lists what SQQ can do to get B-Points, point two is "Avoid landmines that break suspension of disbelief." and in Italian it got translated to " Eliminare i trigger" (Delete the triggers) which doesn't make sense??? In Italian or English?? This is not how we use the word trigger. I've even asked some friends if maybe I was stupid and forgot my own language but no, it doesn't make sense, no one understood what point two was! This is bad.
I'm gonna keep reading because I can have fun spotting the differences but honestly, treasure your English edition.
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i haven't really read a lot of people's posts on here but i've read a few on twitter and i'm glad that other people are also recognizing that xia fei is almost definitely being at least somewhat manipulated by vein
#don't get me wrong i loveeee toxic relationships#i think it's a very interesting dynamic that's going on between them#i think it's very clear from what we know that xia fei was in a very vulnerable position when vein took him under his wing#and i feel like from the context we currently have it seems like xia fei's loyalty to vein is being taken advantage of#idk i could write more on this but i honestly don't feel like i have enough substance to be for sure#after all we've only seen like three interactions between them. i think the fourth episode will clear some things up#and i don't really want to make a post analyzing their relationship and characters and then turn out completely wrong#like we barely even know anything about vein tbh#but we do know that xia fei is a silly goofy guy at heart. whether or not he turns out to be a bad person is beyond the point#link click#link click yingdu#shiguang daili ren
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i am begging
the «reuniting with your ex in the games» BUT it’s Nam-gyu falling for Thanos’ ex😭😭
Nam-gyu x reader
|This was fun to write but I'm not totally sure I did the idea justice
|Also guys when I finish all the requests I DO write for other Squid Game characters especially if they're underrated 🤞
It was easy to want to find a distraction during the games, the pressure of just wanting to survive and leave with a pretty amount of cash being the only thing pushing him forward.
But conventionally that's when he noticed you. It was during the 6-legged race, you had already formed a reliable looking group and were encouraging a frantic looking man. He didn't understand how he had missed you throughout the other games but now his eyes always drew back to you like a magnet.
You weren't even doing anything that special, just talking to that bastard's chic that left him broke. It was your soft look of concern for her that had him falter slightly, he was holding his food as he stared in your direction.
He wanted to talk to you, badly.
As he's biting the inside of his lip, considering whether or not you'll ignore him a familiar cheerful voice comes up from behind. Thanos lazily swinging an arm around his shoulder.
"Whatcha looking at ma boy?" He asked in a playful tone, grinning dopily as he follows Nam-gyu's line of sight, only to land on. You.
His face screws up dramatically as he looks between the stricken look on his friends face and then back to you. Nam-gyu's about to speak up and ask Thanos to hype him up to go talk to you but he's not given a chance when he's suddenly being dragged towards him by both shoulders.
Thanos leans in to whisper, but he's still comically loud. "Nah man, that's my ex, total priss. Trust me you don't want that." But thing is he wanted it, and bad.
He's momentarily speechless as he glances between you and Thanos, torn between his loyalty and this new warm feeling you're giving him. "Yeah...uh huh." He doesn't mean a word of it, you're definitely going to remain on his mind until he can find another way to get to you. He's brought out his thoughts by a clap to his back. "Right idea man." He says nodding his head with a furrowed lip before spinning on his heel to bother someone else, most likely Se-mi.
He couldn't care less what he was on about, your smile was sweet and he felt eager to get your care and attention on him instead. Nodding to himself with a new found resolution as we walked to his bunk to eat his food.
It was honestly unbearable trying to ignore your prescence, he's high off his rockets but he's still looking up at the ceiling stupidly as he tried not to make it obvious he was actually looking at your way and you're only standing in front of him amongst a vast crowd.
Everyone was on their way to the next game, though the colours seemed to blur and blend together he could make out a stage which everyone instinctively stepped on. What kinda game is this supposed to be? His mind is too jumbled to decipher everything like he usually would and he finds himself easily joining in on Thanos' antics.
Blood smeared the doors and floors, the mocking song that blared from above ringing in his ears. All he really had to do was get into a group with the right number, that's all, if he could understand that at least he'd be just fine.
"Two!"
The child like voice sung out and for the last time chaos erupted. His gaze immediately moves to locate Thanos, they had been in every room together so far so he didn't think this time would be any different.
Apparently he judged wrong.
The purple head of hair making some unexplainable noise before grabbing Min-su by the shoulder and skipping off.
What. The hell.
He wanted to kill him, wrap his fingers around his neck and wring him to death, taking his cross as a reward. But now wasn't the time to fantasize. He was quickly growing irritated, cursing under his breath as he looked for anyone he could easily grab.
And that's when his eyes locked with yours.
You look as frantic as he is, and he's genuinely disturbed to realise that all he's thinking about is that you noticed him in this bloody situation. He's stopped in his tracks but you're rapidly advancing towards him, grabbing his arm roughly and tugging him towards a door, not even bothering to give him the chance to accept. He wouldn't have said no way.
When another desperate player tries to grab you to join their room he quickly comes back to reality, swaggerdly pushing the man away from you and rushing to close the door behind the two of you and locking it.
You're panting. Hair falling out your hairband which you briefly grab and retie. Finally your face rises to meet his eye, finally. His back is pressed to the door still, content on watching you do the simple action of tieing your hair back. Noticing your now slightly relieved gaze on him a helplessly boyish grin forms on his face as he swallows shallowly.
"Hey."
"Hi..."
His minds scattered and he's looking for words to say to you but he's cut off by the announcement that it was safe to leave the rooms. Seeing you lean off the wall to leave he steps aside, if he was sober he would've cringed at how you didn't even have to say a word to him to get him to move. He doesn't care right now, pleased to watch your retreating back profile.
His heart stutters slightly when you turn back to look at him with tired yet considerate eyes.
"Think the game is over, you coming?"
He breathes out deeply through his nostrils as he tucks his hair behind his ears as he speeds up to walk beside you. He was doing a terrible job of trying to suppress the smug grin threatening to reveal itself but you didn't seem to notice and if you did you were mostly unbothered. Instead prioritising looking around to see the remaining surviving players.
When your eyes meet with a certain someone. Sensing the shift in your mood he doesn't know why he's surprised to see a still cheerful Thanos leaving a room with Min-su meekly following behind. His mood clearly shifts when he catches sight of you, quickly approaching the two of you, shooting Nam-gyu a judging look.
"You bitch... who woulda thought you'd end up here when you left ya boy when he was at his worst."
"We're not doing this right now, I'm tired man." He scoffs and crosses his arms at your words, rolling his eyes as he rocks from side to side.
"Convenient of you to leave after the fuck up at the competition."
"Well yeah, you managed to find a new hobby I wasn't a fan of."
You spat the words out bitterly, only getting another tsk from Thanos as he tongued his teeth. Nam-gyu could feel himself sobering up and he was able to recognise he was getting to see you up close, how grateful he was. Even if you were scolding his best friend, that scowl on your face making his heart race.
Unexpectedly those pretty eyes turn to look at him questioningly, looking him over carefully.
"You close with him?"
God knew how badly he wanted to say no to have a chance of gaining your favour but an alliance with Thanos had still done him good until now, even when he ditched him. He bit his inner cheek as he looked anywhere but your eyes.
"Yeah..."
"I see."
Thanos honestly felt offended seeing how reluctant Nam-gyu looked to admit he knew him but before he could throw any sort of tantrum he's being ushered away from you and towards the crowd of disheartened people heading for the exit. A small laugh leaves you as you watch the two, stuffing your hands in your pockets as you watched them. That guy, he didn't seem the type to be around someone like your ex, at least from what you saw today.
Everyone's currently catching their breaths and mourning those they lost. Thanos was occupied with rapping random lyrics at Se-mi and Min-su, meaning a great opportunity to potentially sneak off and see you. He wouldn't ask for anymore of those pills, he needed full focus right now, and this time analyse every curve of your face to the t.
Se-mi spares him a mean side glance as she notices him slipping away, only sighing and leaning her cheek on her palm. She couldn't care less for where he was going but she wouldn't lie and say she wasn't slightly surprised to see the man leave his dictator's side without an announcement.
You're sitting on the edge of one of the bunks, mindlessly staring towards the floor, the small group of friends you had made had been illuminated in the last game and it had left your last source of community disjointed and broken.
Your head perks up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, your brows raising slightly when you find it's the guy from before. You smile lightly at him and he swears he's found the meaning of life.
"We were a pretty good duo in that last game huh?"
"Guess you could say that."
"I was uh thinking. I could try and convince Thanos to let you in our group. I know he's-"
"I'm good."
Your blatant rejection stung more than it should, instinctively tucking his hair behind his ears.
"Thanks though, I appreciate the thought."
"Oh, course."
Immediately he forgets about all the ways he could try and convince you. Spacing out at your oddly gentle sounding words that had him strung on each syllable. He's dumbly nodding as he looks up at you with his hands peaking out his tracksuit.
"You're not as bad as him."
You say honestly, you knew of your ex's right hand but he had never particularly stood out to you until now, and at his luck in a generally good light. Tilting your head at him at his silence you sigh and lean back on your hands.
"You shouldn't listen to him too much."
"Right, yeah."
"What's your name by the way, mines [Name]."
He hadn't realised that you didn't know he already knew your name. It took several on the low eavesdropping sessions but it was a prize he proudly acquired himself. Chuckling sarcastically at himself he realised you had also asked him his.
"Nam-gyu. I know Thanos is a dick and all but you can come to me... If you want."
He had an easy going expression on but his heart was racing and he genuinely feared it might stop right in front of you, he's convinced he's pushed this too far already, obviously you'd want nothing to do with him when he's literally best friends with your ex. Yet you chuckle slightly and give a soft nod in return, a knowing smile he felt he'd been waiting ages to be directed at him.
"I'll keep that in mind, Nam-gyu."
Fucking jackpot.
#squid game#squid game x reader#nam gyu#nam-gyu x reader#player 124#nam gyu x reader#player 124 x reader#games
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