#but im trying a new thing where i don't write angst all the time

[sukunasun]

Do you ever plan to write a fic with a grumpy reader? Maybe with Getou or any chara of your choice?

screaming from the top of a building: grumpy readers are so relatable and deserve more nuance than being labelled as ice queens and stone-cold bitches! there is much more to unfold beyond the harsh exterior. how cantankerous and irritable you are but nonetheless meant to be understood and loved.

quietly, you lay there stowing away as a recluse. you love your books and your crochet hooks. working away and making the most of me-time. people don't draw near. instead, they try prodding with sticks and hurtling stones for a reaction hoping it's a smile or a nice conversation between two, but there is no gambling and taking chances. no risking it 'depending on your mood' because the weather report calls for sunny skies and yet, the storming grey cloud above your head stays looming. permanently brewing.

you claim it's just your face, your attitude, and overall unapproachable aura that inhibits you from making contacts and connections. an RBF that can't be cracked. "she's so intimidating," is a grating sound. you have long since given up on explaining yourself or waiting for the chance to when the backstory and lore is too revealing. not exactly dinner party talk. you wish it could be as easy as saying "im hurt and heartbroken beyond repair. mothering fear and angst without needing comfort." it feels nice, well-deserved even to wallow in dread.

there's bound to be disappointment from unmet expectations thus, you've stopped having them altogether. it feels better than accepting affection with open arms. so wrong, so weird to be wanted, to be chosen. where's the catch? when will the other shoe drop? the cycle of starting over becomes tiring, tedious—a mechanical performance. a complex creature who requires better coping mechanisms and a man who won't stab you in the back. friends who'd stop poking holes in the reasons when you say no, yet again, to meeting someone new in this state: when bricks are laid and piled high up in uniformed rows surrounding, it warrants avoiding all forms of showing and receiving love after the years spent shaping the architecture of your defences.

then there's geto. with his charm and wit and the way he pries the person from underneath facades and fabricated masks. your fragile, rocking foundations built on sand he topples down with a mere smile, hardened fortitudes he crushes to dust, weaving within hairline cracks and exploring the caverns of your heart like no one has before. all without much effort, or rather, he doesn't need to exert himself when you fall so willingly.

"why don't we do something else tonight, dinner and a movie?" he questions when you call again. right after work when the stress is at an all-time high and he's...well, you don't know what he does, but he makes himself available for you. he'll admit it's made him feel special being the only person let in, when everyone else has to scavenge for scraps, he's a privileged selected one. seen the glimpses of the warmth you possess when laid bare and sated.

such a skill he has to wring out the truth. still, you go on with the "i like being alone," answer. a mantra, a repetitive hymn to soothe the sting and sharp clawing against the chest til it no longer feels so. numb and sore aches it leaves behind. 'you'll regret it when you realize i'm too much for you,' stays clogged in your throat. he'd only admonish you for such thoughts. 'that's not true' he'd say, but you know better than to believe that.

"i get it," geto replies, feigning casualness when he's not a stranger to isolation and avoidant habits. sometimes he wished he wasn't exposed to a mirror of his own makeup. a paragon of performative indifference and detachment. "i'll leave when you want me to," he reassures you, but was that a wavering you hear in his voice? you don't dare assume because he makes things easy. not the kind to complicate, nor commit. say the word and he'd give you all the solitude you need. dodging the serious questions and serious labels. friend, boyfriend, guy-im-sleeping-with. he doesn't care for them because you don't.

maybe he's just referring to the task at hand, used to forgoing aftercare and post-orgasm cuddles for a late-night drive home. excluding that one time you allowed him a night on your couch. he won't stay if your hand comes up to his sweaty chest, pushing him away before he's had the chance to pull out and slide the worn condom off. it keeps him at a distance and he takes it as a sign that this is as far as intimacy goes—no kissing on the lips, no secrets and sweet nothings, your moans don't escape and neither do his plethora of dirty speeches, stifled and gritting in a tight-lipped prison—there is no room for it at all.

the last thing you need is to dispose whatever is left of an already flimsy resolve. becoming vulnerable and exposed to his rejection or the knee-jerk reaction when he touches you—when the strap of your dress falls at an angle, he instinctively chases after the smooth slope of shoulder with his lips, pressing soft kisses there and everywhere else simmering with anxiety, humming pleased and contented to taste the nerves slipping away, sinking his teeth in and feeling the flesh give to his possession—a longing that courses through and wrenches around your heart tight. you're so selfish to follow after his hands, to feel them feel you. they should be upon another but he grabs and gropes greedily like he can't wait any longer.

"or you could let me stay," he offers.

"the couch makes your back hurt," you reply.

"your bed is big enough for two," he counterclaims. doing what he does best. it's not the first time he's tried to hint at more, waiting for the opportune moment when you're putty in his hands, relenting to him.

"we can't," you gasp when he slips two fingers past your dripping folds. the smirk he wears hidden in the crook of your neck. "why–" you claw at his forearm tucked between your thighs, clenching around his limb for leverage while he makes you squirm and jolt with every nudge against your gspot. "–why me?" why an unpleasant, unfriendly, unwanted woman like you, haven't you suffered enough? why does he choose to torment you with his favour while seeking for yours. you remind yourself there's no place, no space for him here. you like the way things are no matter how painfully lonely it gets, you like the cool touch of your sheets and the emptiness your fingers trail over in the mornings. it's what you know, what you settled for. since when do two people meet and see each other for themselves, choosing to stay for long after the thinly veiled ugliness is stripped away. how do you tell him you're starting to grow accustomed. almost adoring. you've flown too close to the sun before, how do you deal with the fallout when you're inevitably lurched into the suffocating and slow descent towards earth?

in the last few seconds cresting upon your climax, suguru feels it building around the edges of your jittering limbs. head lolling back as you choke, fighting back your moans. your hips thrust in time, chasing after his fingers. he settles them as deep as he can, pumping fast and pressing down against your clit til it hurts, til the hard pressure causes your juices to drip down his fingers, squelching and making a mess.

fuck it, he knows it's the only time you'll have him this close so his arms brace you, supported by his strong chest, crushed by his biceps, suguru coaxes you, "i don't care how far you push me, or how much you pretend, i want you and i know you want me too—"

you shake your head, resisting, stop it, stop uncovering me. he talks of your lust as if some incontrovertible proof, you won't give in. with indefatigable, unwavering effort you set the record straight. "i don't like you like that," lying right as you're about to explode from pleasure, not the kind that feels like a firework, shooting silent and bursting forth, but you seize every muscle in his hold. choking on your breaths and feeling it tighten and coil in your stomach, in your toes, compact and revving, it releases like an engine. rolling and roiling so unyieldingly it makes your ears ring, suffocating you til your vision goes black, and a scream forces it way past your lips.

neither high-pitched nor guttural, it reverberates so soothingly, "im sorry!" you cry. for being this way, for using and tossing him aside, for wanting more. you sob with your head thrown back while suguru hums right against your ear. sounding pleased and pleasured with your admission.

slowing his fingers in time with your panting breaths, he questions "do you really think i wouldn't like you?" it's not the right time to do this but he can hardly bear it, he longs for truth, "do you not believe me?"

looking upon his face through half-lidded eyes, you see that interrogative spark in his expression, his arms never letting go. a tense anticipation takes shape. the air is thick with the scent of damp skin and something else—his shampoo, his cologne, you chase after it for more, pressed into his chest, it only takes one whiff to get a fill, the same way you cling to the corners of pillowcases and duvet covers for that little bit.

what has changed? he makes you act a fool, forlorn and fumbling around in the most fatuous ways. i want you he said so clearly. and it warms your being like never before. there is an urge to make excuses, accuse him for being in lust, he only said it in the heat of the moment, ensnared by a need for possession.

but there is no point in looking back.

"i believe you," you say, noses bumping and slotting close when your lips betray your better judgement, or rather, your unfavourable one. "i'll try." is the best you can offer.

[wrencatte]

mini-fic 6(ish!) post-Fallen Order. Mantis Crew. Cal & Merrin. Omniscient POV (Mostly Merrin). 1.1k words Cal...has a beard??? ao3 mini fic link - chapter 6 (ponchos)

Cal plops down on the couch with a loud, drawn-out satisfied sound, relishing in the first comfortable seat in literal days. Merrin looks up from her holonovel, blinks once, twice, and bluntly asks, “What is wrong with your face?”

He slaps a hand to his chin. “There’s nothing wrong with my face.”

“No, there is,” she insists, abandoning her novel to grab hold of his wrist and wrench his hand away – or at least she tries to wrench it away, but Cal resists valiantly, muscles straining with the effort. He leans as far back from the Nightsister as possible until he yelps, and they both go tumbling off the couch to land in a groaning heap on the floor.

Cere watches them, eyebrows raised, and lifting not a single finger to assist either one of them. BD chirrups from his spot over the Master’s shoulder, something distinctly mocking in his tone even without knowing binary, and Cal groans again, louder and more obnoxiously.

“Thanks, buddy, knew I could count on you,” he snarks. The droid whistles something else that just makes him laugh.

“What did he say?” Merrin asks even as she resorts to prying Cal’s hand off his face, fingers digging under his palm. He tries to smack her hand away with his free one, but she just grabs it and pins it awkwardly to the side out of the way. She pauses, head tilted in contemplation, then drops her entire body weight on the Jedi. He lets out a wheezing oof! at the suddenness, eyes wide. BD laughs at him. “This would be easier if you just gave in.”

“Doubt it,” he grunts.

They grapple – no, actually, tussle is really a better word to describe it. Neither of them are actually trying at all. Cal’s stuck arching his face away from Merrin since he can use his hand, and Merrin could easily hurt him in this position, so her efforts are half-hearted at best. Both of them are laughing like children, little hushed, breathless giggles. Cere doesn’t hide her smile, thoroughly enjoying the sight of them acting so care-free, and secretly recording the whole thing. Even though they have BD for that, there’s something about having a version all to herself that she can’t resist.

Cal finally gives up and removes his hand. Merrin makes a noise of triumphant – that gets cut off when he (gently) smacks his hand against Merrin’s face instead, effectively blinding her. He uses the surprise attack as leverage to shove her back against the base of the couch and he scrambles to his feet, putting distance between the two of them quickly, and…goes back to covering his chin.

“It is not that embarrassing,” Merrin tells him.

Cal scowls. “You said there was something wrong with my face!”

She makes a conceding expression. “Fair, but I did not mean it in that way. It merely…caught me by surprise.”

Cal had been gone for the last few days, exploring a nearby mountain pass in hopes it was what they were looking for (it wasn’t), so forgive her shock when he came back looking like that. He changed out of his regular poncho and new vest combo in favor of a pair of loose pants with far too many belts and his ratty training top that Greez has tried to throw out several times – though not as many times he’s tried to throw out some of his older, more…pungent ponchos. His hair longer than when she first met him, long enough to tuck behind his ears, and when you add that to what’s going on with his face…

He eyes her warily then semi-reluctantly drops his hand, putting it on his hip instead in a sort of are you happy now? pose. Merrin stares at him. He stares back, weight shifting as if he’s about to bolt.

“It looks good,” she declares finally.

Cal rolls his eyes. “You literally said – .”

“I did not get a proper look! You surprised me!” Merrin snaps. Cal throws his hands up in a huff.

He has a beard.

Or…almost a beard. Barely a beard, it’s still growing in and all. But it’s there and it, and it adds a maturity to his face she wasn’t expecting. Before, his old, world-weary soul could only be felt in the Force when he dropped his shields and let them help him. Now, though, Merrin looks at him and she can see the weight he carries far too easily. The beard looks good, yes, but it makes her heart ache just a little.

Cal scrubs a hand over the short, scratchy-looking beard. It makes his freckles stand out, somehow, or maybe that’s because they’ve been hopping from sunny planet to sunny planet these last few months and he’s no longer stuck under the perpetually gloomy clouds of Bracca. He burns instead of tans, but he seems to get new freckles every day.

“I didn’t mean to grow one in,” he admits. “But I’m kinda attached now.”

“Literally,” Cere adds.

He sticks his tongue out at her then jumps with a strangled yelp when she thrums their bond in admonishment like he’s a twelve-year-old apprentice all over again. “Hey! That’s a cheap shot!”

“What’s a cheap shot?” Greez asks, walking onto the Mantis. He looks up from the holopad he was consulting. “Oh. Hey, Cal, welcome back…What’s wrong with your face?”

Cal swears at him in Huttese as Merrin laughs. “All of you! All of you are against me! It’s not that bad!”

“It truly isn’t,” Merrin assures him, sounding only half-sincere to his ears.

Cere shrugs. “It’s not too bad,” she agrees. “I think it needs another day or two before it really works for you, though. Right now it’s…” She wiggles her hand with a wince.

“Ehhh,” is Greez’s contribution.

Cal hides his face with both hands this time, sighing very, very loudly. “You are all so mean to me. Fine, I’ll kriffin’ shave it off. Greez, got anything I can use? My kit got lost somewhere.” He glares BD-1 from between his fingers and the droid chitters in response, sounding offended. “I am not! You’re the one who went over the ledge! I told you not to scan it!” BD-1 beeps something decidedly rude.

“Nothin’ for your human sensitivity. You’re gonna have to wait until our next supply stop, kid.”

He groans. “Unbelievable. That’s a week from now.”

Merrin pats his shoulder consolingly. “You will survive,” she says seriously. “And if you do not, I know several rituals that will bring you back with minimal…side-effects.”

“Thanks, Merrin, you really know how to make a guy feel better.”

She smiles. “You are welcome!”

[hannieehaee]

Idk if you're taking requests but I would give it a short and it would mean so much if you actually wrote smthg bout it.

An angsty fic/drabble where woozi and reader are in a long term established relationship and the reader gets their absolute dream job opportunity but it's far from Korea and she tells it to woozi but they get conflicted since woozi cannot transfer between his work and seventeen and reader does not want to give up this once in a life time opportunity. At the same time they are sceptical about a long distance relationship since reader had already been fed up of how less they get to see and stay with woozi with him travelling and working constantly.

You don't have to write it if it's too complex but I'd love to see cuz I really like the way you write!

content: idol!woozi x nonidol!reader, established relationship, light angst, fluff, long distance relationship, etc.

wc: 716

a/n: thank u so much!! im so sorry for how long i took to get this out!!

masterlist

it'd been a week since you told jihoon about your new work opportunity. a week since the air in your apartment became just a little bit colder and the future slightly more grim.

jihoon had been supportive immediately, congratulating you and insisting on you accepting the position. he'd been as supportive a boyfriend as he'd been in the past two years of your relationship. it filled you with warmth and hope for the future of your relationship.

it wasn't until you'd let him know of the location of said job that things became more sad than hopeful.

although he still maintained his supportiveness, there was now a clear air of worry in his voice any time it'd get brought up.

you'd tried to ignore it, pushing it aside until you found the courage in you to actually accept the position. it was your dream job. a once in a lifetime opportunity. except it was an entire country away from the love of your life. and you only had three more days to accept the offer letter they'd sent to you.

the thought of doing long distance would have been fine had you been anyone else. but you barely got to see your boyfriend as it was. living with him was really the only way for you to spend time together. his busy idol schedule had him going all over the world, and when he was at home he was usually ever at the company or in your shared apartment.

if you left, you'd give up on ever getting to see him.

"babe."

the voice took you away from your train of thought. the same train of thought distracting you for the past week.

you looked away from the tv that had been playing in front of you. you hadn't even been watching it, but the background noise helped.

jihoon was at the entrance of the living room, two mugs in hand as he walked over to you and took his usual seat, silently handing you your mug with a tight smile.

not even a single sip from your drink was taken before the subject filled the room once more.

"you need to take this job."

"jihoon ..."

"no, listen," he turned his body to face you, "you and i, we're a forever thing, okay? i don't care if we have to be away for a while. i'm already living my dream, it's unfair that you don't get to do the same," he argued with conviction in his eyes.

"but, jihoon ... it won't be like when you're touring. we'll never be in the same country at the same time, i-"

his hands went to take your mug, placing it on the coffee table before taking your hands into his own.

"i don't care!", his voice raised without meaning to, "so we'll have a year or two in which we can't be as close as we've always been, so what? it won't matter in the grand scheme of things. we'll be together for forty- no fifty years. a few years of uncertainty won't matter a few years from now. babe, please."

his voice pleaded at you.

he was afraid you'd end it all instead of at least trying.

what made it worse that he refused to consider a possibility in which you didn't go and follow your dream. it was a done deal to him. he loved you that much.

that was all you needed to make a decision.

"i'll take the job," you said decisively.

jihoon released a sigh of relief right away, hand squeezing your own in encouragement.

"i-i'll rent a place big enough for the two of us over there. i'll ask for a week off every six months. i'll have it written into my contract so i can go visit you. and- and we'll keep this place here for any time you have time off. we'll call every night, no matter what. even if it's just for two minutes, we'll- we'll make it work."

all you could do was smile at him.

how could you ever worry about change when he was willing to work so hard to move along with it all?

you kissed him then, shutting him up with no words.

and he understood, kissing you back with just as much unspoken love.

[aventurineswife]

I love to think that Aventurine would tie a strand of his hair (i mean its like gold already) around his beloved's ring finger as a silent engagement ring...Literally... Imagine coming to him crying that it ripped and him laughing telling that there are way more from where it came from as he detaches another strand and double ties this time just as a reassuring :') [feel free to use the idea if it inspires you im just so obsessed nowadays]

Ties that Bind Us

Summary: After a delicate strand of Aventurine's hair, which he had tied around your finger as a silent engagement ring, breaks, you approach him feeling emotional.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Light Angst, Comfort, Established Relationship, Suggestive(nothing explicit), Intimate Moments, Playful Teasing, Emotional Reassurance, Soft Romantic Gestures, Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mild suggestive content, Emotional vulnerability, Brief crying, he calls you “Love” (because you are the love of his life 🫶).

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA, INSTEAD OF GETTING AN ARTIFICIAL THING, YOU GIVE YOUR BELOVED SOMETHING GENIUNE AND OF YOUR OWN 😭 BUT MAN HE'S GONNA GO BALD IF HE KEEPS OFFERING HIS HAIR!!

(Keep those requests coming, I love writing about them! Perhaps send something slight spicy(don't ask me for full smut😭) or gorey too if you dare that is ;))

In the dim glow of your shared home, a soft breeze rustled through the open window as you watched Aventurine, or Kakavasha as you privately called him, sit at his desk, deeply engrossed in his work. His sandy golden-blond hair fell in perfect waves, shimmering under the gentle light. You smiled, fondly remembering how, just days ago, he had tied a single strand of that very hair around your ring finger.

A silent promise. A commitment so personal, it felt more intimate than any grand proposal.

But now, that golden thread had snapped, the ends frayed where the delicate piece had worn out over time. You felt a tug at your heart. It wasn’t just a strand of hair, it was the bond you two shared — fragile, tender, and impossibly beautiful.

Approaching him quietly, you stood at his side, fingers fiddling nervously with the broken piece in your hand. “Kakavasha…” you whispered softly, breaking his focus. His magenta and cyan eyes flicked up from his work, softening when he saw you.

“What’s troubling you, love?” His voice was rich with warmth and affection, though laced with his usual playful charm.

You showed him the broken strand, lips quivering slightly as you murmured, “It… it snapped. I’m sorry.” The weight of your emotions caught you off guard, and you blinked back tears, feeling silly for crying over something so small.

But Aventurine’s expression didn’t change. In fact, a gentle chuckle escaped his lips. His signature smile spread across his face as he reached out to cup your cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “Oh, my dear…” he murmured, his tone both amused and deeply affectionate. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Before you could protest, he reached for a new strand of his hair and, without hesitation, gently wound it around your ring finger again, this time doubling the loop to ensure it would hold longer. He kissed your hand once he finished, a light peck full of promise. “See? All fixed. Stronger now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly through your lingering emotions, touched by his gesture and the way he made light of what had seemed like a disaster to you. “Thank you.” you whispered, your heart swelling with warmth as you looked into his eyes.

He tilted his head, studying you in that way only he could—reading every nuance of your expression. "Crying over a single strand, hmm?" he teased, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "It’s like you're trying to tug at my heartstrings."

Your blush deepened as his thumb stroked along your jawline. "What happens when it breaks again?" you asked, though the question came out in a more breathless tone than you’d intended.

Aventurine’s smile widened, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more his personal self, Kakavasha. “I’ll keep tying new ones,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you close. “Over and over again. Until there’s no more hair left to give. And even then…” His lips found your temple. “I’ll find something else to bind us together.”

You shivered, not just from the cool breeze that swept through the room but from the way his words wrapped around your heart, anchoring you to him in a way that felt unbreakable.

As you rested your head against his chest, your heart pounded in sync with his, your body relaxing into his embrace. The warmth between you grew, soft and inviting. His fingers played with your hair now, lazily twirling a few strands, but there was something unspoken in the air.

"Kakavasha…" you whispered, your voice trembling with something more than just gratitude.

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through your body. "Cracking already, are we?" His fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes shimmered with mischief, but there was something deeper—something more vulnerable, peeking through the cracks of his usual playful facade.

Aventurine cracked, and Kakavasha peeked out.

The depth in his gaze was unmistakable now, and your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the shift between you two—the teasing banter giving way to something far more intimate. His lips hovered near yours, barely a whisper away, his warm breath mingling with yours.

“And if you break again…” His voice was a low, sultry murmur, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. “I’ll be right here, fixing it every time, love.”

His lips brushed yours, gentle at first, as if savoring the moment. But soon, that gentleness gave way to something more passionate, a deeper need igniting between you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer still, until there was no space left between you.

And in that moment, as his kiss deepened, you knew — no matter how many strands might snap, or how many times you might fall apart, Aventurine, Kakavasha, would always be there, ready to tie them back together.

[ara-the-great]

One call away

Tw: slight reference to lores, slight gore (if you squint) fever and delirium, abandonment issues

(here is the request I got for Zayne and Sylus angst. I didn't know what to write so I added my own trauma. I HAVE NOT PROOF READ THIS)

You don't remember most of your childhood. Not that you cared much. The oldest thing in your memory that you could find was screams, the screams staying with your Grandma and Caleb but that too was well into your mid or late teens.

Even then you didn't have many friends, actually you had no one except Caleb. All of them either bullied you or abandoned you, they didn't care about you . You were desperate for any sort of connection as a child and as a adult.

Your dating scene was similar. Though you only had one relationship before you joined the hunters association. Even that was far from a good one. And now when you look back at it you couldn't remember much there either, you had cried so much, so damn much but still he left.

It's only after joining the association that your life started to look up. It was a new start for you. A new environment, new friends do you think they like you? and new opportunities.

You always kept your problems to yourself. You didn't want to make others worry for nothing. It's not like anyone was close enough to tell these problems anyway.

When this mysterious fever started developing you thought you could ignored it, just power though it, right? Wrong.

You could barely stand up. Slipping in and out of consciousness. Your body felt like it was being baked from the inside out. Yet it felt like your limbs were freezing off. You needed help to at least get to the hospital.

Even thinking of the hospital made you feel worse. You could practically smell the antiseptic scent of the sterile rooms. What if something is really wrong with you and you need surgery? Under the harsh flood lights and white coats and screams and they'll kill you this time. They'll hurt you. They will cut you open with a knife.

Sylus

You jolted awake shaking, you can't stop shaking. No one can save you this time. For all you know that kind-hearted boy who helped you is dead. For all you knew his body was stained as red as his eyes.

He answered "look who it is, I didn't think I'd be fortunate enough to get your call today kitten". You weren't sure when you had called Sylus but you already had. You didn't know what to say let alone why you called him. Could he even help? Suddenly you remembered the aether core. Maybe this fever was related to this. Maybe-

"kitten are you alright?" His voice sounded gruff but gave you so much comfort. But you wouldn't want to disturb him. He probably would hate you for it.

"I'm sorry i- I mistakenly called you" you managed to rasp out. Still shaking

"you don't sound well. Are you sick? Where are you?" He spoke cautiously. You weren't sure how he knew. Not sure that you cared because before you could answer a calm swept you into unconsciousness.

You woke up to someone opening your door. Shit shit shit shit shit shit . Someone was here. An intruder was here. You could barely get up and out of bed before stumbling onto the ground, your gun was nowhere to be seen. You kept trying to think where you kept it but you came up blank. You rummaged through your bedside table trying to find something to defend yourself with but your cold shaky hands weren't making it easier. The person outside had started to open your bedroom door when you found a blunt craft scissor which you held up towards whoever was inside. Your sight was blurry and your heart was beating in your ears like a war drum but you could recognize a tall figure approaching. You weren't going to let them take you back. you have to fight. You have to

"DONT COME ANY CLOSER! GET OUT IM NOT GOING BACK I WONT HESITATE TO KILL YOU DON'T YOU DARE TAKE ANOTHER STEP!" You screamed as loud as you possibly could. Tears ran down your face as you shook with what can be only described as pure terror. Scenes from the past kept flashing in your head. You could practically feel every damn cut they cut into you as a child.

You were sobbing and shaking curled up in a corner from fear and yet you kept the knife held up. It tore Sylus's heart apart to see you like this again. In the blink of an eye he was kneeling in front of you cowering form trying to reach out.

"Sweetie, Y/N please it's me. Calm down it's ok you are safe. Look at me. Shh look it's me Sylus. Its ok I won't take you anywhere, I won't hurt you." He held you in his arms even though you were wildly trying to stab him for a second. His normally smooth voice wavered and cracked.

"S-sylus? I- someone is in the house!" You deliriously mumbled from the high fever.

"kitten it was me. I came over because I was worried when you stopped talking over the phone. It seems like I was right to worry. You are burning up what happened?"

"I think I have a fever. It's ok though, I'll be ok" you said calming down. You leaned into his touch as he held you against his chest. His heartbeat was almost as rapid as yours.

"my love, I don't think you will be fine your fever feels well over 105. Why aren't you at a hospital? Why didn't you call anyone? Why didn't you call me sooner?"

"i didn't think you would come"

"all you need to do is say my name and I'll be there for you. Now come, let's get you to the clinic"

You shook your head trying to insist you were fine but the worry in his eyes only made you reconsider your choice

"Can you tell me why you don't want to go?" His eyes and his voice were lulling you to sleep again

"scared" your voice was barely a whisper. You could feel yourself slip into unconsciousness yet again.

When you came to you weren't in your house. Just before you could panic you felt sylus talk. His arms still around you like a shield from everything you were afraid of.

"it's ok you are with me. I'm here. I bought you to the N109 zone. You needed to see a doctor so I called one to my house. So no hospital, don't worry." Sylus explained without you even asking.

"thank you" you said quietly, feeling ashamed of the scene you caused earlier.

"For?" He asked with a brow quirked up.

"For not asking what all that was, and for bringing me here and also for taking care of me."

He laughed softly "You don't need to thank me for taking care of you. I always take care of what's mine." His eyes were ever so soft as he brushed away your hair from your face. "Now sleep. You are still sick"

"but I feel a bit bet-"

"Sleep kitten. I'll take care of everything else" he said softly kissing your forehead.

Zayne

You stared at your phone contemplating whether or not you should call Zayne. Though you were in a relationship you couldn't just disturb him. He was a busy guy. He had surgeries and more serious patients to take care of.

Your phone began ringing. Speak of the devil.

"Y/N? This is zayne. Are you alright? This is the second time you missed your appointment this week." His cool voice sounded across the phone.

"zayne, ah I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just have a bit of a fever."

" A fever? That gives you more reasons to come over to the clinic does it not? Do not worry about the appointments. I'm coming to pick you up. Are you at your apartment?"

"Zayne its truly not necessary I don't want to burden yo-"

"Rubbish, I was already headed out. So do not worry about burdening me. Worry about taking care of yourself" he cut the call before you could try to persuade him that you were fine. You were just grateful that someone was there. Even though zayne had abandoned you before. He didn't care about you. It was his job as a doctor to care for his patients.

You didn't realise when you had slipped into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

But by the time you had woken up your skin felt like it was burning from the fever. This wasn't normal. Glancing over at the clock you saw it was around 1 am. Zayne wasn't here yet. Why did you expect he would be here? You knew not to trust in what people say so why was your eyes tearing up?

As your fever kept increasing it became harder and harder to move around, it was painful to even sit up. He had abandoned you again. Your ex was right. You were annoying and in the end everyone would leave you. Nobody could ever love you.

The memory of zayne flashed across your mind. He had promised to always look after you. To be there for you.

You gritted your teeth kept mumbling "it's ok. I'll be ok" to yourself like a mantra as you somehow got a coat on your back to head to the hospital. You weren't sure how you'd reach there but the first step was to get out. Every promise that has been made to me has been a lie why would this one not be?

Just as you were about to get out of your room, your door softly swung open, revealing Zayne with an apron and a tray of soup in his hands. He seemed taken abac. But perhaps not as much as you.

"And where are you going? You shouldn't be up with such a high fever." He said as he kept the soup on the table. His cold eyes were filled with worry. Even seeing him had you breaking down into tears.

He scrambled to hold you as you collapsed on the floor crying. "What happened, where does it hurt?" He hurriedly measured your pulse and fever trying to find any sort of answer from your incoherent sobbing.

"Wh-when, when did you get here" you managed to croak out once you had calmed down a bit

"I got here long ago but since you were sleeping I didn't want to wake you. I was in the kitchen making soup for the fever, knowing you, your stomach is empty." He said as he slowly settled you into your bed.

As he turned around to bring the soup he meticulously made for you, you grabbed the back of his finely pressed shirt, "don't leave. Please don't leave, please stay. Please. I would die if you left me." you kept begged in your fever induced delirium. It broke Zaynes once frozen heart to see such fear and pain in your eyes.

He slowly leaned over to kiss you on the forehead "I won't. I'm just getting your soup. You need to eat something if you want to get better. You can't have medicine on an empty stomach"

Throughout the rest of the night Zayne diligently fed you and took care of you. And when you found it hard to sleep he would cradle you in his arms and read out his medical papers to distract you from your thoughts.

"I'm here, I'm here sweetheart, it will be ok. I'm not going to leave even if the gods demand me to" he comforted you every time you jolted awake. He would be whispering words of comfort to you till you fell asleep again and continue telling you how much he would give up for you. This treatment would go on for days, till you recovered. And even though you didn't remember how you begged him to stay, he would reassure you that he'd be there for you whenever he could.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

hiii i just found your blog, I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE, and if i can request like an angsty story about house and wilson with reader, and the reader has like some disease that'll kill her😭😭😭😭😭im just craving angst

YOU ARE SO SWEET THANK YOU 💞💞 it's been awhile since I've written a good angst fic so this is perfect for me

Your Last Breath (Greg House x gn reader x James Wilson)

Warnings: talk of hospitals/medical procedures, reader has a mystery illness that kills them, they/them pronouns used a few times to refer to the reader in a gender neutral way, hurt/no comfort, heavy angst, main character death (spoiler: it's you)

The doctors had been trying for months to figure out what was wrong with you. Months of invasive tests, months of going back and forth with possible explanations, months of being put on temporary treatments that seemed to work for a short while before you eventually succumbed to whatever was causing your problems again.

Everyone was stumped, and by everyone I truly do mean everyone. Not even House could figure out what was wrong, something that frustrated him to no end for multiple reasons. And by the time he was finally able to figure out what the cause was, it was already too late.

The disease had progressed too far along on its course for the doctors to be able to treat it properly. The best they could do was make you comfortable for the few weeks you had left to live.

Usually he liked having cases he couldn't crack, he liked figuring out the puzzle of what was bothering his patient, he liked being able to go to Cuddy and say "I told you so" when it ended up him being right and everyone else was wrong. But not this time.

This time all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. If only. He'd gladly give up both of his legs if it meant you'd get better.

Meanwhile, the resident head of oncology wasn't taking the news very well, either. It was normal for House to shut himself away for extended periods of time, but not Wilson. He barely left his office anymore, not to check on his own patients, not to accept a request for a consult, nothing. In fact, the only time he ever did leave was to visit you.

Most nights were spent with either him or House at your side, checking your vitals and fetching whatever it was that you needed. You ended up having to beg the both of them to go home at some point, even if it was to just shower and change, but they still refused, choosing to stay at the hospital instead.

Occasionally one of the ducklings would stop by if either of them couldn't for some reason, whether that be due to another patient needing attention or because you finally convinced them to take a break for once.

Foreman was solemn, talking about arrangements that could possibly be made for your body after death if you hadn't decided already. Cameron was sympathetic, reassuring you that they'd make sure you wouldn't be in any pain during your last days on earth. Chase was playful, trying to take your mind off things by cracking a joke or two. And Cuddy was surprisingly very nurturing when she managed to make the time to check in on you.

The whole thing was very bittersweet. While you appreciated everyone caring so much about you, it hurt to know why they were doing it.

Your final day was surprisingly quiet, with no nurses stopping by to check on you every hour or so like they had been for the past couple of weeks where you'd been bedridden almost completely. You suspected someone had requested for that, so you could have a bit of peace in the last few hours you'd be alive for.

House stood at the foot of your bed, watching as you slept. He looked like he was about to say something when Wilson suddenly spoke up from the armchair beside your bed.

"Don't even think about it, House. You're not waking them up right now."

Despite Wilson's firm tone, House couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Oh, come on. It's not like it matters much, they're going to be dead soon anyway."

It took everything in the oncologist not to snap and strangle the man in front of him. The only thing that managed to stop him was the sound of you letting out a hacking cough as you woke up. Even with the oxygen machine, it had become increasingly more difficult for you to breathe.

"Guys, don't fight," you tried to make your tone stern as you lectured them, but your throat was dry and therefore made your voice weak and raspy when you spoke.

"Hey, hey, don't speak, it's alright," Wilson gently reassured you as he reached out to take one of your hands into his. Your skin felt clammy, but he didn't care.

House had a pained look in his eyes as he watched you, but he did his best to cover it up with his usual snark. "We were just talking about you. Trying to figure out who should get your stuff when you die."

Wilson gave him an evil look, but you simply laughed. At least, they thought you laughed. It was kind of hard to tell given how sick you were.

"You guys are funny."

If it were any other time, House would've beamed with pride and joy at being able to make you smile with one of his quips, but this time he just felt empty inside, knowing that it was possibly the last one you'd ever hear. He quietly observed as Wilson helped you drink some water out of a small paper cup, one hand helping you hold it up to your lips while the other rested on your shoulder.

"Thank you," was the only thing you managed to get out once you were done, your breathing stalling yet again when you tried to speak. The three of you knew it was getting close to when it was going to happen. The problem was that only one of you had accepted it, and it wasn't either one of the two doctors who were in the room.

"I love you guys," ended up being your final words, a bittersweet smile on your face and tears in your eyes as you took your last breath. You hoped they knew that you meant that. You hoped they knew that you didn't blame them.

And you hoped that your death helped to bring them closer together rather than tearing them apart. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but who really cared? It's not like you'd be around to witness it anyway.

End notes: I rarely ever finish a request this early so please don't expect this to become a normal thing 😭 I just got really into writing this for some reason and once I started I just couldn't stop

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

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[creatie123]

CHOI SU-BONG/THANOS X PREGNANT!READER PART 5

Part 1 Part 2 part 3 Part 4 Part 5

tw: heavy mentions of miscarriage, dead dove do not eat, angst, cliff hanger (again), drug use, smut, slight themes of Thanos having a breeding kink,

~~~

I am putting the note up here so that I don't forget. Hi everyone! wow, we are so close to the finally, there will be to chapters for a sad ending and a happy ending, the sad ending will be chapter 6.1 and the happy ending will be chapter 6.2, I'm so sorry for the delay with the new chapters I have had some personal things going on in my life that have made it hard to write. but not to worry I am back and ready to give you all the finally you have been waiting for. thank you all for the support have given me when reading my story!

till next time

-creatie.

~~~

As usual I wake up to the music playing over the intercom and blink away the tiredness in my eyes. Yawning I get up rubbing my face, and kicking my feat off the bed to stand up. Lifting my arms over head I let out a groan of satisfaction as my back stretches as much as it could. 

We all turn to look at the door as the voice over the intercom announces the arrival of the guards by saying it is breakfast time. I quietly follow 120 to get in line. Thanos stands beside me in the line next to us, visibly twitchy and on edge. Did he really give up the drugs for me? I try to pay him no mid as he continues to look over at me as if wanting to say something but stops himself.  I grab my biscuit and milk and go to walk back to my bed.

“Celina.” I hear Thanos's voice call out.

It’s shaky and desperate. So I pause, I don't look at him, I can't. I would lose the internal battle I was fighting within myself.

“Please. Please talk to me princess. Just give me five minutes of your time. Please.” he says

Princess? He only ever called me that when he was not pumped full of drugs. The desperation in his voice pushes me over the edge and I turn to face him. “Five minutes.”  I huff crossing my arms. 

Five minutes my ass. I think as I’m pinned to the bathroom wall a moaning mess as Thanos's lips leave a trail of wet kisses down my neck. His hands leave my own to trail down my body and rest on my waist, I seize the opportunity to tangle my fingers in his viberant hair.

“Thanos!” I whine.

“I dont like you being mad at me princess. Say my name.” he demands.

“Su- bong!” I moan, pulling him closer to me.

His hands trail from my waist down to the strings of my pants and begin to pull at them to push them down my legs.

“You cant be serious.” I gasp pushing him away.

“I need something celina, im going fucking crazy.” he says shoving my pants down.

They bunch at my legs and I quickly step out of them. I grab my jacket, unzipping it and pulling it off my shoulders tossing it to the side. Then my shirt, leaving me in only my bra. “What if someone walks in?” I hiss.

“Then they’re going to get quite the show huh princess.”  he says pulling his pants off then his shirt.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He has lost a lot of weight while still being fit. My eyes follow the tattoo that leaves from his hand up his arm. His arms reach out to grab me pulling me against him. He settles us on the floor before his lips once again leaving a trail of messy kisses down my neck to my collar bone, then down to my stomach where he pauses.

“You look so fucking good nocked up with my kid, senorita.” he says

I moan at his words closing my eyes to take in every touch and kiss, every little feeling of his hot brath on my skin. “I wonder if you taste any different.” he says 

Grabbign my ankles he throws my legs over his shoulder and loweres his head to give a long lick to my already sensitive clit. I let out a shuttered breath my hands shooting down to tangle in his hair again. “Fuck you taste to good. I’ve fuckin missed you princess.” he groans

I throw my head back into the pile of clothes that thankfully cushion my head, “su-bong please… please stop teasing me.” I whine.

“What do you need beautiful?” I asks in his playful tone.

“You! I need you! Please su-bong I need you!” I moan squeezing my eyes shut when his thumb toys with my swollen nub.

“Once this round is over ill make sure you nice and properly fucked how does that sound? Hm? We need you with all your strength after all.”

“You’re a tease!” I cry, grinding my hips to meet his thumb which continues to give lazy circles on my clit.

Pulling his hand away he raises and plants a firm kiss on my lips before getting up and pulling me up with him. “C’mon we gotta go.” He says helping my get drest and walking out.

I stand there dumb founded just listening to the sound of his feet retreat. I go to take a step to follow him but stagger and fall into the sink. I gasp raising my hand to clutch my stomach the other shooting out to stabble myself against the sink. I whimperleaning over to rest my head on the cool glass of the mirror. I dont have amoment to regain myself beofre I double over and vomit into the sink. 

“What is going on with you mały kwiatek?” I cry.

I spend what feels like hour in the bathroom throwing up and clutching my stomach in pain. A knock on the door barrly registers in my head. 149 comes in an immediatly rushes to my said pulling me against her. I cry into her chest. Thankfully the pain and nausea subsides after a few more minutes and she helps me stand up my legs wobbling a little bit before I regain the strength in my legs.

“Will you be able to play the next game? I-I don't know what will happen if you refuse..” she says.

“no..no I can play. I’m ok.” I whisper letting her lead me out into the room where people are gathering to start leaving to go to the next game. I follow closely behind her as we walk into a room with a large platform that resembles a carousel. Doors line the walls. We all make our way to the platform and stand with the lady here some and 120 and 095. The platform begins to move and a song plays. A hand grabs mine and I turn to see 222. I gasp, pulling her into my arms. She does not return my hug but I can feel her let out a sigh of relief. When I let her go she held my hand tighter. The carousel stops and the voice exclaims the number ten.

It was a blur. I felt a hand grab me and start shoving me towards a door. Only after a few seconds there were ten of us in a room panting. I look around our group, 456, 388, and 390.

“Everyone ok?” 456, ask.

I grip 222’s hand tighter as gunshots fired outside. 

“Unnie I’m scared.” 095 says holding 120’s arm.

I look at them trying to control my breath, I flinch as the voice on the intercom tells us it is ok to go back outside. I feel 222 clutch my hand tightly. The smell of blood fills my nostrils and I suppress a gag. Placing a hand over my nose I take deep breaths of air, thankfully my hand blocked most of the smell.

“Gi-hun!” Hear a man say. 

We turn to see 001, 388 runs up and gives him a hug, and the men give each other greetings. He turns to us and I give him a nod still holding my nose. I pull 222 away from them to go find our group again. Once everyone was on the platform the music started playing and the platform started spinning,I looked around to see the amount of people still on. My eyes catched Thanos and nam-gyu dancing. My eyes widen and I scowl at them. 

The platform stops and the voice calls out the number four. I look at number 222. 120, and 095 grab us and we run to a room. Once we are in the room I break out of my trance. 

“What about 149, is she ok? Why, why didn't you guys go with her and her son?” Tears stream down my face.”

“121, she’s ok I say she and her son go with 456 and 001.” 120 soothes me. “Please, you need to stay strong for the rest of the game.” she says.

After a little while I nod wiping my tears. 095 comes up to me and gives me a hug. I return it patting her head. Giving her a thank you we walk back outside when the intercom says we could. I saw 149 and I let go of 222 and went up to her wrapping her in a hug. “I was so scared.”

“Oh dear. Im ok see nothing to be scared of.” she says patting my shoulder. 

I sniff and nod giving her a weak smile. I stand in between 149 and 222. 222’s hand finds mine again and I smile at her. When the platform stops and calls out the number 3 hell breaks loose at the small uneven number. I watch as 149’s son is torn away from her. She stands frozen. I go to run to her but I am pushed forward and fall on my stomach. Pain shoots to me as I scream out in pain. I am pulled up by two sets of hands. I watch as 149 is pulled by my 456 and 001, and let out a sigh of relief letting the hands drag me.

When we get in the room I slump against the wall placing my hand on my stomach and wince pain shoots through my abdomen. Through my legs and throughout my entire body. I turned to look at who saved me and it was 222 and Myung-gi.

“You could have gotten killed, what were you thinking  celina?” Myung-gi said.

“I just.. She.” I dip my head.

“Shut up myung-gi.” 222 said.

She walked up to me and took my hand standing next to me. I squeeze her hand thanking her for the comfort. I rest my head against the wall breathing through the pain shooting through my body. Once the voice over the intercom says we could leave, 222 softly pulls me forward and out of the small room. I breathe a sigh of relief watching 149 leave the room with the two men. She is saying something to them when she gets interrupted.

“Mom!” 007’s voice rings out. She goes up to him pulling him in her arms whispering that it will be ok and that she is ok. I smile at them. We make our way to the platform standing on it. The music begins to play but it sounds worse each time. Like a bomb's timer waiting to go off. When the platform and music stop the voice calls out the number six. Chaos again breaks loose as people try to pull others from their group to join them. 120, 095, 007, 222, 149, and I ran to our room. I see 095 is pushed and someone takes her place so I grab her and push her in the room watching the door close and lock. Dread fills me as I realize what I just did. Shit. shitshitshit. A hand grabs me and pulls me into a room just as the timer goes off.

[envy-of-the-apple]

The yan!stsg x reader cheating has me in a chokehold for days actually! As much as its thrilling, vindicating and flattering that these hoes come crawling back(except for gojo? Hes like the newest addition to you so hes just strolling in your 3sum 😭😂), beneath that surface is actually a heavy cesspool of angst(i love angsts!) like thats where your vision of unrequited love in yan trope comes in delicious clutch

Youve forgiven, moved on and stuff— theres no coming back to loving suguru again; but the banger is!!! Amidst your years captivity, you forgot how you started loving suguru. Yep, forgot.

You dont wonder the moot points how suguru is unrecognizable from the time youre with him nor question yourself what made you fell in love with the pos in the first place.

But youre trying to remember how you fell for him in the past because you feel nothing now; indifference, and how jarring you find yourself to be in this predicament— and so that trying to be with the two in your turbulent captivity would be freeing in companionship.

But the thing is, your feelings are like ashes that stsg is trying to ignite again, but you feel nothing; or a blind person trying to perceive colors or stuff.

JUST imagine sugurus pain in the later years, youve got hidden diary in between your cloud docs or written in little receipts thats about your regrets and your love for a person(thats after him) and that love is so full of passion and longing its borderline painful that you tried to get back to feeling any semblance of emotions for suguru but failed. Just suguru pathetically stewing in regret, how he shouldve handled both you and gojo and rage, because you loved another person thats equivalent to how you used for HIM lmaooo

I hope ive articulate my feelings for this prompt quite fine??? Im struggling with english(its my 2nd language), i hope you get the gist of it xD thanks for listening to my rant, but i had to share this brain rot 😭🙏😊

istg if you dont get outta my inbox and wRITE THIS SHIT RN-

ughhh i think its even worse that you've forgiven them, right???? lets face it, it's only cuz of you suguru and satoru were even able to get together. those two fucking suck at communication and you basically taught suguru to love and be vulnerable. maybe, even before the cheating happened, you became friends with Satoru, you talked about things together, he become softer with you and he fell for you. They both loved you, but they loved eachother too.

you forgive them, because of course you do. but it still hurts to see them, so you leave. Maybe you move cities, ignore their phone calls, block their numbers. You meet someone else. Someone who gently puts you back together, makes you learn to trust again.

You forgive Satoru and Suguru enough to send them wedding invitations. It's all water under the bridge, you think to yourself. You don't realize that they still aren't over you. That they will never feel complete without you. They've lost contact with you for years but now you've given them an exact date, time, and location.

They don't care how happy you are with your new partner. All that they care about is how happy they'll make you.

[strngegirl]

a/n: an intermission for the other thing im working on (my first request giggles) because it'll take a while with how hectic my life is rn <\3 // just trying to get my head back in the writing game so this isn't too stimulating (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

cw: gn!reader x choso, angst i think, mildly suggestive (mentions of sex), reader cheats on husband with choso, choso doesn't care, choso really loves reader, reader doesn't love him like that, choso is pathetic and a little sad, choso pov.

wc: somewhere around and a little over 1k i think?

❝Hold me, console me, and then I'll leave without a trace.❞ ——— THE MARÍAS, 'NO ONE NOTICED'.

Winter, the coldest season all year round. A season where snow falls, children get giddy about the fact that Santa will break into their house and gift them their dream presents for being a 'good kid' this year, people get ready for the epilogue of yet another year. Basically, it's a season that's celebrating the end of the year, and the start of a new one.

But Choso finds that he feels rather empty, despite all the activities he's doing with his brothers.

He doesn't wanna blame you, but... He's acutely aware the reason why he's feeling so down is because of you.

After Yuki told Choso to go live as a human, you were the first human connection he made. He went to a bar to try out alcohol, and then you slid into the seat next to his, introducing yourself. Conversation with you flew smoothly like silk, and even with his lack of understanding of everything in general, you were so patient with him. You didn't ridicule him, you didn't mock him, you taught him. What Choso didn't know, you explained. He liked that you treated him as an equal that just has a lot of questions, and you didn't look at him weirdly nor belittle him like some other people he's interacted with prior.

That's also one of the reasons why he followed you home, so enamored with you he hardly notices the framed pictures of you and a man together hanging in the corridors of your home, or the shiny ring on your finger even as you used that same hand to undress him. All he can focus on is your gentle voice telling him what to do, and your soothing touches that gives him the most pleasure he has ever felt. He let you take his first, let you see him so vulnerably in all his naked glory because he thinks he might be in love. It's foolish, he knows; he doesn't even understand what love is, but with his understanding of it, he knows he feels something for you. Choso doesn't care about the fact you guys just met, he cared about the pleasant scorching sensation you make him feel.

He kept in contact with you, never got mad even when you ghosted him occasionally, although it does make him feel vaguely sick, he doesn't mind. Because it's you. And he gets to share a bed with you when you reply to him sometimes; be it for sex, an ear to listen to or just some company, he'd be there. Anything for you.

And it stays that way even when he finds out that you have a husband. It should make him back off, really, but the thought that even when you're bound to another, you still wanted him made him feel so special. After knowing, he listens to you ranting to him about how your husband goes away for long periods of time and hardly ever pays you the attention you need, and from what you've told him some other times, he doesn't think your husband deserves you. If anything, he thinks he can find a better ring for you, replace the one currently locked around your ring finger like a leech.

But you always avoided any topic involving taking your relationship any further.

Choso tried to take you on a date, of course. Multiple times, actually. His pleas for you to accept always goes on deaf ears, or you just shut it down with a detached "I'll have to take a rain check". He hates it. He wants to go out with you, hold hands with you and do all the things he sees couples do. But you refused to leave your husband, and you don't want to be caught cheating which is terribly ironic because you shamelessly invite him over almost three times each week. It's okay though, he'll listen to you if it means he can stay. Even if it hurts him inside.

It's been approximately four months since he first met you and began this repeated song and dance, and right now he's back in your bed all over again. Both of you lie there underneath the covers on your marital bed, basking in the post coital bliss he's been addicted to ever since the start. The hum of the heater inside your room being the only noise filling the silence that has fallen between you two.

Choso has his head on your chest, his ears pressed against your warm, sticky skin as he listens to the thud of your calming heartbeat. It's music to his ears, one he can listen to for eternity if you'd allow him to.

And as always, he's the one breaking the silence. Because you wouldn't.

"[Name]?" He asks quietly, wide eyes looking up to your face he finds himself loving.

You hum in acknowledgment, fingers meandering through his hair.

"Can we attend the Christmas festival together?" Choso asks you on a date. Again. Despite knowing the answer—

"No, I'm sorry. You know I can't."

—he'd still ask. He still holds onto that sliver of hope, that one in a million chance where you'd say yes to him.

He deflates at the response he had expected, his face slowly turning down to hide into your chest again. And again, it's fine. He doesn't mind.

"I love you." He whispers those three words for the first time ever. He wasn't sure if it'd make you mad or... Or happy. He wishes it would make you happy. Because he knows if you said that to him, he'd be very happy.

Choso feels you tense the moment he utters those words, and as he waits with bated breath for you to reciprocate his words—nothing.

It's okay. As long as you continue to keep him around, he'll be content with you turning him down every time he tries to show you how in love he is with you.

Because you make him feel human.

[hangesdarling]

before i let you go — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x fem!reader SYNOPSIS. You see your lover for one last time before being betrothed to a man you don't love. CONTENT. arranged marriage, implied abuse, unwanted pregnancy, cheating, angst, implied sex, pain, me putting unnecessary symbolisms WORD COUNT. 1.9k A/N. I miss Hange sm it hurts. I miss their love and now I know no one can give me the same feeling as they are. I regret thinking I'd be happy with someone else. ANYWAYS IM BACK. IDK HOW LONG BUT I MISS HANGE SM 😭 please bear with my shitty writing, i haven't written in three months 😭

Staring at your wedding dress, you should have felt excitement and anticipation of the comfort the future holds. Of being a wife and a mother. It was what the women around you taught you should become. However, the longer you stare at your wedding dress, the more your vision seems to blur. Suddenly, the floral walls of the new home where you sat seem to melt, pouring like wax into the polished floor. The birds sing outside in the warm morning as your world crumbles. In a fortnight, you will lose your last name, your life, and your most beloved. 

Your fingers clutched a nearly crumpled letter, the rim of your eyes hot with unspilled tears. Gently, you smoothened the letter in your hands, reading the words scrawled for what seemed to be the hundredth time. It read:

Let's meet again for one last time. — H

Hange. 

A whisper left your mouth as if saying it louder will draw attention. It was freeing to utter their name again. Hange. Your beloved. The one you'll be leaving behind in a fortnight. 

-

Marriage has always been a necessary insurance your family knew of. You grew up surrounded by mothers and wives telling you about security and eventualities alleviated by finding a man to marry. Usually, it will be someone from the Military Police, or a merchant. The more they tell their stories, the more their romance sounds like tragedy in your ears.  A tragedy that doesn't kill you but wears you away and diverts you from loneliness by having responsibilities. You're happy. You should be happy to be with a stable man, picked and approved by your parents. He will give you everything, money, and misery. Maybe you'll have enough time to learn how to love him when you don’t have to worry about money. 

However, all life has offered you so far is sadness and a growing human inside of you. It was too premature to stir yet its presence pervades your whole being, floating on the surface of your mind. The child belongs more to your fiancé’s than yours. After all, it was a product of trying to claim you, of him knowing that your heart belongs to someone else. He can do nothing about your heart so he planted something of his own inside you thus ensuring you'd stay. It hurts to think, it hurts to remember. You threw a shoal over your head and wished for any thought other than what you currently have. You just hoped that the brown of your child's eyes would be more like Hange's than its father's. 

-

You crossed over a green field overlooking a meadow littered with pink and oranges, sometimes, red flowers. The beauty of spring. The grass dancing around your ankles. It reminds you of the beautiful springs you spent here, something you need to leave behind too. 

Your footsteps grew light and slow as you reached Hange’s doorstep. Before you even knock, all you want to say is a thousand apologies for many things it'd take you ages to name. But the moment Hange saw you, there was no bitterness in their face but longing. They held you in a tight, wordless embrace. Their arms and hands spoke of how much they had longed to see you again. At that moment, you held them just as tight. You expected anger and bitterness from them. They've loved you for many years only for you to come one day at their doorstep pregnant and to be married to someone else. Their anger would have comforted you because that's what you think you deserve at every waking moment. And you felt more terrible knowing that they still care after all the pain you've caused them.

It wasn’t right.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say. No amount of apologies will take back all that hurt.

Hange didn't say a word and only pulled you inside where it was warmer. Your knees weakened, you wanted to kneel in front of them and apologize again. Your guilt was too overpowering that it didn't feel right for you to stand on the same level as they are. But as crippling as you felt, they still held you in their arms, you let them touch you the way they always used to. It felt selfish getting comforted by someone you hurt and yet you found yourself in their bed again. 

Your lips found theirs, your hands holding them like they'd slip away any second. A cry bubbled from your lips from how much hunger and yearning you felt for them the time you were apart. You wanted to erase all the traces of touch imprinted on your body that weren't from their hands. You longed for the time you were theirs and no one else's. How come it went to a time where only your love belongs to them? 

"You got here without trouble, right?" Hange asked as they pressed a kiss on your neck. You got what they meant and nodded. None of the people working for your fiancé followed or noticed you or so you hoped. 

"That's good," Hange tucked a stray hair from your face. The pain and longing shone through their eyes. "I miss you."

I'm sorry.

All you wanted was to apologize, the heavy burden in your heart remained knocking and present every time you looked at Hange. 

"I miss you too," you managed to say without crying. All the happiness that breathed life into your existence remained frozen in the past. It hurts to think that the traces of that life will vanish the moment you step out of their house. Why does your last happiness remain in a fleeting present? Gone in a blow of a wind? 

You cherished each touch, each kiss that made you shudder in the sheets. Only Hange loved you despite the way you want to crawl from your skin, to love even the parts of you you're too ashamed to acknowledge. 

Take me back. Take me back to what we used to be, you cried, your soul wailed. 

You held Hange close, blankets thrown over your bodies. You gazed around the room, capturing the place in your memory. Their rustic furniture, papers, and books were all over their desk, both your clothes were strewn on the floor, and a purple flower sat at their bedside table. You took Hange's glasses from beside the vase and gently wiped the lenses with the blanket. 

"You never clean your glasses," you said. 

"You always notice when they're dirty," Hange smiled. "And overclean them."

Hange noticed your smile, not loaded with grief for once. Just like the old times. 

"I wish I could always clean them for you," you muttered, checking both lenses again before putting it back near the vase. 

Hange chuckled, a smile crossing their lips as they paused. A contemplative, almost painful pause. Their momentary silence retrieved your attention. 

"Only if we can run away. Outside those walls and perhaps, beyond that. You can stare at flowers all day and I get to stare at you."

Their laugh sounded pained as if the happiness that should come with it got stuck in their throat. 

Hange shook their head.

"What am I even saying?" Their smile remained wistful. "You'd be a lot better back there. With a family, with kids. You told me once you want a kid. And a flower shop."

Their smile grew, remembering you tending to their garden. Or how they grew your favorite flowers but never admitted so. 

"You said you're opening a flower shop. How is it going?" Hange asked, the painful stirrings on their insides were masked by curiosity. 

You're finding an answer somewhere in your head. But the few words you found phased out of your mind the moment you look into their eyes. Their soft, warm brown eyes gazed at you with pure, pained love. You hid in their chest, trying to bottle the tears like you used to. But the heaves and sobs came and only grew louder the moment Hange held you to face them. 

"Y/N..." they muttered, wiping your tears the way they used to. They kissed you and rubbed your back to soothe you. That's all they can do despite their wishes to be more. They cannot stop time or slow it down nor they can shape both your circumstances. 

"I want to be with you," you sobbed. "I love you and your little experiments. I love picking flowers in a field on a Sunday morning while you read books or pick insects to show me." 

Your words gushed and spilled, the truth you wanted to deny yourself overcoming you. 

"I love it when we try to eat what's left of your burnt pancakes while overseeing your garden. I love the flowers you grow for me. I love the times we sneak out like teenagers so my parents won't see us," you sobbed uncontrollably, your tears spilling past your lips as you spoke. "I love waking up next to you in the morning. And when you come home safe to me after every expedition. I love that you still care for me even when we had fights, even when I complied with that marriage, even when I'll be married to someone else."

Hange listened, their hand gently stroking your hair. 

"And I hate that nothing good lasts forever because something at least should. You were my happiest infinity and yet I left you. What will I merit from a life of temporary comfort when my happiness resides with you?" 

Hange wanted to comfort you but didn't know the right words to appease the hurt housed deep inside you. You were still the same girl they loved, the girl who dreamed of a quiet life with them. 

"I'm sorry," you sobbed finally, uselessly wiping your tears. "I'm sorry you loved me."

"I don't regret that," Hange muttered with a kiss on your forehead. 

"But I do," you told them. "You’re better off with someone else.”

They sighed, enclosing you tighter in their arms. 

"I'm happy about what we had," they smiled. You can feel their voice right at your ear as you press your head against their chest. Something you've taken for granted for many years. "I know it feels miserable for us now. But it won't always be. That, at least, is comforting, isn't it? I'll be okay, knowing that you'll be happy eventually."

"I won't be," you cried. 

"Then come back to me when that time comes." Hange knew it was a bold thing to say. They can't visualize a place where you'd be happy together without someone or something trying to break it apart. But they had to try. If they can battle the uncertainty residing outside the walls of Eldia, maybe they can do the same for the relationship they hold dear. 

"I will," you answered. It was equally bold as their proclamation. You wonder if those promises will ever lose meaning. If coming back to your most beloved is even an option at all. Even temporarily, the hurt waned from your heart and was painted over by an irresolute hope. You pressed closer to their heart and said, "I'll see you again."

-

The sun filtered through the pink curtains, shining a warm hue against the sheets. You trimmed the flowers sitting by the window, the white petals complementing the purity of their surroundings along the floral patterns on the walls. You are in your new home. A place you should teach yourself how to love despite the affliction laced with every item. 

Your musings were cut short as you noticed a new paper on your desk. It was a fresh sheet folded in two, the embeddings faintly showing through the back. You didn’t need to open it to know who it came from. As you sit down to open the letter, you realize that the floral patterns on your walls are pink lilies of the valley. 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[redr0sewrites]

Hi Rose! I hope you're still writing for Hazbin because I have a Vox request! I enjoyed your Vox fluff/comfort hcs from a while ago and it made me need more soft!Vox if that's something you're comfortable with writing. Specifically I've been going through a pretty major depressive episode lately (not in a dangerous way, just in the sense that something happened where I feel like I've failed one too many times and it's past the point where I can just pick myself up and try something new), so maybe something with Vox comforting the reader through that? I feel like he might be able to relate given that he's such a perfectionist and clearly doesn't handle rejection well, so I can see him having practical advice and guiding me through concrete solutions, but also I just want him to hug me and let me cry on his shoulder for a long time😭 Thank you!!! I appreciate your writing so much!

🥀A/n: i've had this in my inbox for a WHILE (sorryyyy <\3) so i hope ur feeling better now nonnie!!! i totally get the feeling, and i loved writing this request <33

🥀Cw: fluff, angst w comfort, negative self views, mental health themes

🥀Character(s): Vox x reader

your breath came out in hiccuping gasps as you struggled to maintain any sense of control. you sat hunched over on your bed, shaking uncontrollably as tears stream down your face. it had been another long day, and god, you just felt like a screw up. it seemed no matter how hard you tried, every day always left you with that same feeling of emptiness, just as it had been every other day for the past few months. you were so, so tired of everything, of getting no satisfaction from things you usually enjoyed, and of having to fight just to remain somewhat sane. it was truly and utterly exhausting. you lean back against the headboard, a soft thump accompanying your heads' collision with the sturdy wood. as your tears continue.

the slam of your bedroom door causes you to pause, and you flinch from the sudden illumination of your hunched figure.

"where were you? i called you twice, what-" Vox storms in, hands waving about, only for him to pause at the sight of you. his harsh tone only makes you cry harder, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"i'm- sorry, i-i turned my phone off-" you force out your words, fighting to keep yourself from bursting into tears again, but its no use. your shoulders shake in silent sobs as you cover your face with your hands, embarrassment overcoming you.

"oh, oh its okay, its fine-" Vox struggles with his words. for all of his blustering confidence in public, when it came to genuinely comforting someone, he was clueless.

"i'll be right back, i promise!" he practically shouts, racing out of the door. in the few seconds he's gone, you can't help but spiral deeper. why couldn't you just try harder, be better than this? you're so fucking stupid, god, of course he was angry at you. you don't hear Vox when he returns, and you jump when the mattress dips and a clawed hand begins gently rubbing your back. you sniffle softly, and the only sound in the room is your heavy sobs.

"shh, i brought you some water," Vox murmurs, voice uncharacteristically low. "did someone hurt you? because i swear, if someone even laid a finger in you im going to fucking-"

"no one hurt me, Vox," you swallow hard. "m fine, really, i just- its fine."

Vox is silent for a few more moments, and even though you can't see him as your face is still buried in your hands, you can practically feel his gaze on you.

"was it.. me? did i do something?"

this startles you, and you raise your head to look at him.

"w-what? no, of course not, 'm just- i had a long day, is all. i just feel so... stuck."

you blink at his screen, tears settling on your lashes. he stares back, studying you with a concerned gaze. he doesn't offer any words of encouragement, you know that's not his strong suit anyway. instead, he gently takes both of your hands in his, handing you the glass of water and slowly guiding it to your mouth. he watches as you take a sip before placing it on your night stand, before opening his arms and motioning for you to come closer. you happily oblige, melting into his side and wrapping your arms around his waist. he leans back against the headboard and you stay like that for a while, softly crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back and holds you steady. as your sobs begin to subside, you pull away to look at him again.

"i'm just so.. tired. tired of this, tired of feeling weak and overwhelmed. fuck, i just wish..." you trail off, melting back into his embrace again. Vox is silent for a few moments, contemplating what to say.

"i think your great, y'know that?"

"what..?"

"i think your great, wonderful, and so talented. you're the best partner i could ever ask for, and im so lucky to have you. you know that, right?"

"mhm..?" you hum questioningly, unsure of his objective.

"now, i know i'm not good at this sort of thing, and i know its tough, but i want you to know that, i'm, i'm here, y'know? and if you're ever, like, having a moment like this, you don't need to hide. i'm here, and i understand." Vox waves his hands as he talks, and you reposition to lean against his chest.

"i know, and its okay. 'm lucky to have you too," you mumble, and he chuckles lowly.

"is that so? you're going to give me a complex if you keep this up, baby."

"good. 'cause your the best."

"only for you."

you giggle at that, knowing that its true, and Vox smiles. he'd do anything for that sound, for your happiness. and, as you slowly drift off to sleep, you know that you'll be okay for that exact reason. you may not feel okay now, but you will, because he'll be right there beside you, on both good and bad days.

erm. hello hazbin hotel community. im slinking back like a toxic ex rn...... ANYWAYS !!! HOPE U ENJOYED !!!! its been a hot minute since i wrote for HH in general, esp for vox, so apologies if the characterization is ehhhh. PSLPSLSPSLSPSL SEND IN REQUESTS IVE BEEN DYING RECENTLY MY INBOX IS BONE DRY IT COULD BE FOR THE 2K EVENT OR JUST SOMETHING RANDOMMM (also especially some vox, lucifer, adam, or lute requests plspslsps)

[otrtbs]

writer interview game ✨

thank you for tagging me linds!! <3 @inevitablestars

how many works do you have on ao3? 5 on my otrtbs account (+1 unpublished one) and 6 on my otrtbs_shorts account (where all my one shots and short stories went!!)

what's your total ao3 word count? 580,654

your top 5 stories by kudos? Art Heist, Baby! Tender Curiosities, Baby! Winterlude Angel of Death You and Me

do you respond to comments? i try!!!! i really try!!! ahb! gets unmanageable i fear but if you get there early enough on new chapters that i post on new stories, i really try to get to them!!

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? uhm. i guess art heist, baby! but tbh i feel like i could go angstier... maybe that'll be a writing goal for the new year...

do you write crossovers? no! haven't yet. but i was just talking to some friends today about something so cursed ....that could be my magnum opus if i wasn't a coward

have you ever received hate on a fic? no, never!!! everyone is really nice and respectful and can keep it peaceful and fun :))) !1!1!1!1! (<- girl who is manifesting for the future <- my fic has been eviscerated on goodreads and reddit and tiktok and twitter and in my tumblr asks and on ao3 i wouldn't be surprised if people are adding it to their linkedin atp)

do you write smut? very poorly and briefly and not really el oh el

have you ever had a fic stolen? not plagiarized, no!!! thank god!! but stolen and sold....well, yes i fear.

have you ever had a fic translated? yes! so many wonderful sexy versions of art heist, baby! out there for people to enjoy !! angel of death has been translated too!!

have you ever co-written a fic before? no, because collabing scares me. in the sense that i would be worried that i wasn't writing to my co-authors expectations and also ... if they don't directly align to My Vision i will also throw up. so. i don't think co-writing is in the cards for me

what's your all-time favorite ship? JEGULUS <3 jegulus. my forever girls <3

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? when i say i have...a master timeline full of every event that happened to bellatrix, andromeda, narcissa, sirius, and regulus.... detailing their time at school, what classes they take, key life events...just for me to use to write a massive canon-compliant fic of their lives.... i have put in HOURS and HOURS of work into that wip but i don't think it'll ever be done and/or see the light of day

what are your writing strengths? i really love writing detailed, descriptive interior scenes. it's one of my favorite things to do! i see every interior scene in my fic like a little still-life painting and i want the reader to be able to visualize the same still-life im seeing in my head in their head!!

what are your writing weaknesses? commas </3 grammar in general... like sorry 2 ur honor. but who fucking cares? do you get the vibes? are the vibes there? that's all i care about.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i love it!! i've learned a lot of fun phrases from it !!

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? im gonna write moonchaser (jamus, wolfbucks? idfk) !!!!!! when my james/remus thesis drops i swear !!!!!!!!

what's your favorite fic you've ever written? Winterlude!!! Winterlude is my favorite child, she's beautiful, she's gorgeous, she's fun, minimal angst, happy endings, regulus is hot as fuck in it, i want to go to there so bad. winterlude !!!!!

okay, i'm no pressure tagging @rabidlittlestrawberry @whorerific @pretentiouswreckingball @twisted-tales-told @residentrookie 💕

[dollydaisies]

Can I pls request a BTS reaction? They have a crush on their friend who is not a celebrity, so they can't confess to her because of their reputation/job, but they are really close. One day someone from their company revealed a sensitive information about them. So, the members and the company accused her of it because they thought that she was only with them to become famous. They didn't believe her and also told her many hurtful things. But later it was revealed that it was not her but someone else and she was telling the truth. Later they try to reconcile with her and asks her to forgive them but it was too late. Can you please write it as angst?

If it's too specific for you, you don't have to write it. Thank you anyways ☺️☺️

my first ask! thank you so much for sending this! my bts skills may be a tad bit rusty, so i'm sorry if this isn't up to par with your expectations. im doing allll the research i can! some things may be changed up a bit, but i'm trying to stick to your prompt the best that i can!

summary: forbidden love hurts, and it sometimes builds up frustration inside you, which then turns into flipping out on the person you love nonsensically solely because you're overwhelmed. they had to learn to think before they act, and, now, they're suffering from the consequences of their actions.

characters: just to test the waters and see if you like what i'm doing, i am only doing kim namjoon. if you like this, i will continue with the other members i’m comfortable writing! please tell me if i did well or was a lil' off. i'll always take constructive criticism:)

kim namjoon never meant to hurt anyone, but he especially made sure that he would not hurt you. he cares about you so much, to the point where seeing you even slightly sad could mess up his whole day.

you're bts's songwriter and producer, but also their friend. when they make plans, they want to include you, always. even if they go to the beach for a run bts episode, they want YOU to be there after the cameras are off. of course, every single member of the group wants you to be around, but namjoon insists on it. you're his safe place, the person he confides in when times get hard--why wouldn't he want you there?

"are you sure you don't want to come with us on this tour?" namjoon looks at you with full passion in his eyes. he wants you to come with them, even if he won't directly say it. "you know that we will always want you to come with, right?"

that little "we" always gets you every time. sure, you know that it's true, and so does he, but that's not what you want to hear and that's not what he wants to say. you want to hear him say "i want you to come with," but it feels like he refuses to say it. he's only not saying it because it'll make his feelings too real, and he can't deal with the reality that you can never be his.

"ah, i know, joonie... but i need to work on the ideas you all gave me for this next album. it's the final one before you all go on hiatus, so i can't take a break," you respond, playing with your bowl of ramen without eating it. you're the only two in the kitchen, and it's quiet. "i'd love to go, but i just can't afford to right now. you know i'm short on money."

namjoon sighs, but nods. "i understand. it's just gonna be hard to be on tour without you."

you send him a sweet smile, then giggle softly. "you're such a baby, did you know that?"

"it's our little secret, keep it hush."

that wasn't the secret that destroyed everything you've built with him over the past decade, but it was more of a foreshadow. you felt excited at the idea of having a secret with him, but also dread--this is silly, though. you guys have thousands of secrets. you're best friends, and you always have been, so why is your gut telling you to fight or fly?

around a week later, dispatch reports on news that namjoon has never told a soul about--except for you. the moment his brain processes the information told to him by the higher-ups, he immediately gets up from his seat and marches to your usual spot that you linger in.

"get out."

"huh?"

your face is full of pure confusion, a bit like a deer in headlights. sure, you've had your arguments and fights before, but he has never been this harsh off the bat--hell, he was rarely ever truly harsh.

the way his eyes look at you with pure disgust, and the sarcastic laugh he lets out... it feels like you don't know who's standing in front of you. yeah, it's namjoon, but... it's also not.

"i knew you were desperate for money, y/n, but i didn't think you'd be this desperate. if i knew you were like this, i would've fired you sooner."

"namjoon, what the hell are you talking about?" you stand up from your seat, yelling at him a bit. it's obvious you aren't even mad, you're just a mix of confused, scared, and worried.

"you know what i'm talking about, y/n. hell, the rest of the world does as well, since you decided to go to dispatch about it."

he holds up his phone so you can look at the site he pulled up. you scrolled and scrolled in pure shock, confusion, and disgust. "i... namjoon, i did not rat you out to anyone. why would i?"

"people like you only care about money. figure it out, and get out of this dorm."

absolutely stunned, you walk to the door in complete silence, then turn around. he looks a bit lost in thought, then he finally sees you. you, whose eyes are full of tears; you, whose cheeks are red due to how panicked you got from him yelling; and you, who refused to yell at him back even when he disrespected you.

while he was so sure he was right, a pit in his stomach grew larger. he feels like he’s doing something bad, something wrong, and he doesn’t know why.

"i just want to say," you pause for a second, then continued. "if this is the real you, kim namjoon, maybe i should've been the one to expose you after all."

you slam the door.

months have passed, and you work at a local music store. sure, you write songs still, but they're not for anyone else except you. you refused to talk to all of them, talk about all of them, or even think about any of them. in your mind, bts disbanded the second he broke your heart, and your trust. truthfully, it’s unfair, as all the other members have texted you so many times and begged for a response, but you can’t think of them without thinking of him.

the store is completely empty, so you're scrolling through every single social media app you have downloaded brainlessly. the words you're reading are not completely processing in your head at all, they kinda just look like funky shapes.

one title, though, caught your attention.

"kim namjoon talks about trust, compassion, and friendship in recent SEVENTEEN interview."

your jaw clenches, and you slam your phone down. your tears are threatening to come out, but you refuse to let yourself still be hurt by him. he doesn't deserve your time, your tears, your anything. that's, at least, what you keep trying to convince yourself of, anyways.

the bell at the door rings, and you try to regain your composure. you

"welcome to good vibes, home to all of the--"

you freeze. you don't know what to do, what to say, or how to even move. are you supposed to say anything? it's not like he’s saying anything—hell, he has a mask over his face and a hood on his head, but you KNOW it’s him. now, he’s just staring at you blankly. you’re wearing a mask, so maybe there’s a chance—

“y/n,” namjoon softly says your name, and your heart pangs against your chest. it’s a mix of heartbreak, anxiety, and all the leftover love you have for him. “i was looking for you.”

you’re so nervous, you could burst into tears. you want to hop over your desk and run into his arms and tell him how much you miss him, but also how much you hate him for hurting you so much. why do you still love a man that said such unforgivable words?

“why?” your words were a bit breathy, and you began to chuckle a bit while shaking your head. “there’s nothing left to say—unless, y’know, you’re gonna tell me all i care about is money again because i have a job.”

“i’m sorry,” namjoon sighs, then walks to you. the desk separates you, but you wish you could fall into his arms. you keep your composure all the same, though.

“that day, i was so stressed. it felt as if so many things were happening at once, and to know that a secret that i only told you got out… i felt so much betrayal all at once, i didn’t want to hear you out. if i’m being completely vulnerable, i wanted to go cry,” he let out a small chuckle.

looking at you, your face was completely unreadable. it’s like you were thinking of so many things, but also of nothing at the same time. was he doing well? he doesn’t know. he’s just going with what he feels in his heart.

“in my heart, i knew i should’ve ran back to you and apologized; in my heart, i knew i should’ve heard every single word you said, because you would never lie to me,” namjoon balls his hands into a fists, then looks at you in the eyes, “so i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that i was wrong.”

the store was tense, and all you could hear is the music playing so softly in the background as you stare at him. he’s trying to read your expression, to see if there’s any bit of leftover love in your eyes, but it just feels cold.

after a minute, you begin to laugh. it’s a full laughing attack, actually, and namjoon just stares. his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, because he’s not stupid—he knows this means he’s fucked up.

“what, did you think was a kdrama, namjoon? did you think i was going to hear that apology, jump into your arms, and say, ‘oppa, never hurt me ever again!’ or something?” you say these words while still laughing, and namjoon is still stunned. “what happened for you to come up here and say this to me? based on your new change in personality with… hating poor people and all, i can’t imagine you just woke up one day and did it.”

“we found who actually did it. it was our stylist, sooyoung.”

“so that’s what it took for you to finally realize i was innocent? instead of thinking back ro everything you said to me and how hurt i was, it took them finding out the real person behind the crime for you to realize i was telling the truth?”

you slam your hand on the desk, and your body is trembling. you’re on an adrenaline rush, but you’re also sad, scared, and angry. namjoon notices this and places his hand on yours, like he always used to.

“y/n, you’re shaking, please ca—“

“i don’t give a fuck, namjoon,” you yell, and namjoon is completely frozen. “i’ve known you since you were a trainee, and, yet, you still thought that i was some… freaky gold digger that would sell her friends out for money. do you know how much that hurts? to know that you think i have the potential to be like that?”

namjoon’s eyes begin to tear up, while your eyes have already overflown. your cheeks are entirely red, and you let out a choked sob. your head drops, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“for over a decade, i have been nothing but loyal and true to you; yet, it takes a full-blown investigation for you to realize how you did me wrong,” you then look up at him with no sympathy in your body. “it’s my turn to tell you to get out, namjoon. and, for your sake, never come back. i never want to see you again.”

he hesitates to walk away, and you’re staring at him, emotionless.

“what, are you deaf? get out.”

namjoon finally leaves, walking quickly towards his car, and you fall to your knees. you’re on the cold floor, shaking and crying, as you realize your life will never be the same ever again.

[j-onedrabbles]

Just a heads up this is kinda sad (unfortunately a friend of mine was in a similar situation). It's alright if you don't wanna write it, I just thought l'd ask be of how talented you are🤭🩵. Poly skz + reader, or just Minsung or Hyunlix if you want, totally up to you. Reader relatively new to the relationship and is trying their best to be the best partner to all parties, but doesn't feel like it's being returned. They feel like skz (or whichever ship you choose is) too into each other and not them, like the shiny new toy isn't exciting anymore. One night, after everyone goes to sleep, reader gets their things and leaves without saying anything. If you're not comfortable with writing it, that's ok!🩵

✧   PAIRING: HYUNJIN X GN!READER X FELIX ✧   CW: ANGST, FLUFF IF YOU SQUINT, FEELINGS OF NOT BEING LOVED, THIRD WHEEL MENTIONS, SHORT BLURB, OPEN ENDING ✧   WC: 0.5K ✧   NOTE: you think im talented 🥹🩵🩵 and im so sorry your friend went through that. i had an old cosplay friend who was in a situation like that as well so i’d hear about it a bit

     Y/n tried. They tried as hard as they could in the relationship. But entering an already established relationship was hard. Starting to date two people who already had a history together felt, weird? Almost like, sometimes you were intruding on the other two in the relaetionship.

     The start of it was great. Y/n had met Hyunjin first and the two hit it off and he had mentioned them to Felix. Meeting Felix was a nice warm fuzzy feeling the moment he smiled at them. After a few months, the two boys asked Y/n out. Promising equal love. But three-way love was difficult.

     Because of work, Hyunjin and Felix both spent a lot more time together than Y/n with just one of them. It was a little unfair, maybe a lot.They still showed Y/n the same amount of love they gave each other, good morning kisses, cuddling all the time, sleeping together, etc. But that didn’t stop those thoughts from coming in.

      Maybe it was just all just one-sided to begin with. The two men were happy well before Y/n entered the picture; even though they both tried their hardest to wash the worries they had away. But all they did was give them words. Words that started to barely mean anything. Yeah, they were busy, but it just felt like Y/n was left out. Kisses, hugs, and cuddles weren’t enough anymore.

     The two didn’t really need them, right? Would they even notice if Y/n left? Would they even care?

     The thoughts swirled in their head for a week. It was when the two came home from a rough day at the company and just said good night Y/n figured it was time to go. They didn’t say anything, just texted a friend asking to stay with them for a few days. Once they agreed, she quietly grabbed as much as she could fit in a small bag while the two were passed out in each others arms.

     It hurt to look at the couple laying in the threes shared bed all by themselves, but when you don’t feel the same love you put out, you get out before you hurt yourself more. Y/n wiped a stray tear from under their eye and tip-toed out of the room. They closed the door and headed out of the home. Y/n took one look around the living area, not praying that one of them wakes up and walks out of the room asking where they were going, but making sure they had everything.

     Y/n sighed and closed the door, locking it and heading down to their car. The realization came once they got to their friends place. Crying on their coach till almost two or three in the morning. There weren’t enough words to describe that pain of being promised shared love and only receiving it when it was new and fun— if there was even words to describe that pain.

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

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© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[leclercsfilm]

but i'll know, i'll know

this is all fanfiction, all fake!!! no hate towards charlotte or alexandra (if that's her name idk). this is purely for fun and please don't be rude to me or insult me. thank you. <333 also, i checked grammar so i think it's fine? word count: 873 (i can't write more ig)

summary: because of your friendship with charles, his significant other wants you out of his life. (angst)

charles leclerc x female!reader

another bad race for ferrari. charles crushed into a wall and carlos got a penalty. you watch the race on your phone, hopping to see charles while he is exiting the car. it hurts not being there for him in times like this but you know he is in a good hands.

maybe you are blaming on your little 'something different' that you feel towards him, but you feel your eyes filling with tears. ever since his new relationship, you had mixed feelings on both of them. he started calling less, and every time you see each other, his girlfriend made sure that the meeting lasts only couple of minutes.

you are still in touch with arthur, your other friend you made while watching your brother go karting with charles. you were all pretty close until you weren't. that's how it is supposed to be.

charles new girlfriend saw you as a threat, and you understand her. insecure with you along side him (even if you only see each other on races or on a reunions), or media attention and their stupid tabloids.

since age 10, this is all you knew. it hurts you that you can't be part of this.

you had a slight crush on charles when you first met, but that feeling got lost somewhere until he broke up with the previous girlfriend.

he was a mess, and you were his comfort. not only you, but there was pierre, lando, arthur, carlos, isa, kika.... everybody was there for him.

he accidentally kissed you, and he apologized 330430 times for that. but that woke up something in you. since then you were always confused around him, trying  not to blush or to be awkward enough for him to notice.

he did. he did notice. and when his girl said that he should stay away from you, he realized that it was probably for the best. he was also confused, but he had her by his side. he needs to be with her and devote his mind and soul to his girlfriend, not to wonder and question the situation with you. this was an easy way out.

you got up and started to look for something to eat. it was a mess of a day and you need to refresh yourself with something. distracting yourself.

while making food, you realize that the sun is not out anymore and that it is 8 p.m. you got your laptop and started to look up for netflix. just when you were trying to find where you left on 'friends' your phone started ringing.

without looking at it, you just picked it up.

'hallo?'

'y/n?'- a famous voice just started breathing into the phone

'charles? is everything alright?' - mutter while praying to God above that everything is fine

'yeah.... i just wanted to hear you for a bit...' - he sounded tired

'sure.. um, what now?' - confused as always, you said the first thing that came to your mind

'did you watched the race? it was pretty shit to be honest. im still shaking a little bit.'

'yes i watched it. sure it was a rough day for you'- you said while looking at the netflix which is infornt of you. you can't even calm yourself down.

'where is....she? is she with you? is there arthur or someone who can be with you?'

'no.... no really. im in bathroom. i had to escape somehow. arthur is waiting for me to get out. she was not even here. we had a fight last week.' - he sounded defeated. with his sigh, the silence got her way.

'im sorry to hear it charles. have you been drinking?' - you were worried about him, you think it never stopped.

'a little bit, yes. but im fine.'

'why are you calling me charles?' - you added

'i don't know why everytime im tipsy or drunk, i think of you. im sorry i couldn't defend you. i still think of our childhood, im sorry for throwing it away... i got scared, i got confused.. it was easier to run....'

charles cried, choking on his tears. your eyes watered as well, and you had to take a deep breath to hold back from crying out loud.

'you know... sometimes...no,no... almost always i have memories overwhelming me. it hurts so bad because you where always in every segment of my childhood, part of it. you were asking too much of me. i can't forget you...' - you cried out, while you wipe your tears.

'im sorry y/n. im so sorry. i don't know what i feel towards you. it not just friendship. i think we could be more. but we can't... and you know it. maybe this is just a process of healing... of forgetting.' - he tired to be collected. he really did. he needed to find a reason.

'well... it was nice to hear you charles. take care of yourself. don't be harsh to yourself..' - with that, you ended the call.

closing your laptop, you finally let emotions to control you. you finally let out frustrations and your tears. your memories with him no one can change or make disappear. you'll always know and remember him, but you'll never know what you two could be.

well, this was painful for me to read, im so sorry. i wish i was better. :( please, remember that english is not my first language and that i've created this account to fix my mistakes and my grammar. please do not insult me and make fun of me. love you <3

[irishmammonagenda]

Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️

Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?

Answer only if you're okay with that❤️

Have a great day🏃‍♂️

hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)

i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)

anyway this was fun to write

grma for the ask <3

Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.

DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊

WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.

LUCIFER

He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.

At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.

He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.

"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.

He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.

The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.

The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.

'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.

Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.

Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.

"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."

(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)

MAMMON

Haha, Emo!

"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"

It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)

BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!

He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.

You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.

The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.

LEVIATHAN

The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.

He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.

He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)

He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.

You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(

"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.

SATAN

Satan enjoys your music taste.

He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.

What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.

No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.

He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!

The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."

ASMODEUS

The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.

He likes paramore though!

Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!

(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)

He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!

The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.

But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.

He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.

He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs

Your his emo after all.

You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!

BEELZEBUB

He likes it.

but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.

He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.

In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.

Very supportive.

If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)

Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.

Bro is like your own bodyguard.

Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!

He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.

He just wants to keep you safe :(

Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.

BELPHEGOR

Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.

Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.

Wowwww. Petty.

Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.

What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.

He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.

He did.

Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.

Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.

It's kind of like a white noise machine.

Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.

Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.

Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.

And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.

But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.

Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.

On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(

Bro is such a hypocrite.

But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.

Not that he'd ever outright tell you.

But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)