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angelfic · 5 days ago

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theodore nott x reader

warnings — kissing, kinda pg-13, mentions of drinking/smoking the usual stuff blah blah etc etc

a/n; truly thought another theo fic written by me would never see the light of day but here we are <3 this was meant to be a tiny drabble btw I hate myself!!!! NOT PROOFREAD!

THEODORE NOTT is shy.

he doesn’t understand why people find him intimidating. well, actually, that’s not completely true. he knows that people avoid him when he’s with his friends because they’re doing stupid shit like when enzo and draco are hexing each other for fun. or when mattheo starts scrapping out in the corridor because someone looked at him wrong and blaise is egging him on.

and, okay, maybe theo will jump in at some point too. in his defence, it’s only when the other guy’s friend starts in on him first.

but his friends aside, theo doesn’t understand why people think he’s intimidating when he’s by himself. it’s not his fault his resting face is daunting.

he wishes he could change it sometimes. girls will still come up to him at parties in the common room once he’s had a couple of drinks, but at the risk of becoming an alcoholic, he can’t be that loose all of the time.

theo wishes more than ever that he could cast some sort of spell on himself when you talk to him. you share a few classes, much to theo’s delight, but it’s not like he’s taking advantage of the fact.

every time you speak to him, his brain short circuits and he feels like a piece of muggle technology being fried by the wards of hogwarts. sometimes it’ll be something small like when you ask him to pass over the pot of lacewing flies in potions and he just stares at you.

“uhm, we’ve run out of them on our table,” you explain after a few seconds of silence, giving him a little smile. you point to the ingredients and raise your brows. “so…?”

he knows for a fact that his face is set in a blank expression that probably looks pissed off, especially when he catches sight of your friend at the table next door who practically looks concerned for your safety.

but his ears are burning and he feels like someone’s electrocuted him when he finally hands over the pot without looking at you and your finger brushes against his for a nanosecond.

“thanks,” you say, sincerely, a smile still gracing your lips as he offers you a stiff nod. you act as though you just had a completely normal interaction and it has theo stressing out because what if you see right through him?

another time, you’re late to history of magic and there are two seats left. one near the front and the other next to theo. you rush over and take out your things, barely registering who you’re sitting with, but theo is hyper-aware. no one ever willingly sits next to him aside from his friends.

once you’re settled, it appears that the rush of being late has left you quickly due to the monotone voice of professor bins and instead you’re fighting to stay awake. theo would know, since he keeps throwing glances your way.

at one point professor binns drones on about known cases of dragon pox and when he starts to list the symptoms, including a green and purple rash, theo mutters under his breath to mattheo, “much rather that than having to sit here for another bloody hour.”

his eyes flick over to you, surprised when you let out an unexpected snort of laughter. mattheo, having fallen asleep on his desk unbeknownst to theo, is oblivious to theo’s comment. instead, you’re the one covering your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing too hard and theo physically can’t stop his lips from quirking up. he made you laugh.

later that day, he overhears your friend apologising for not saving you a seat in class. “i can’t believe you went and sat next to nott. i’m surprised he didn’t tell you to piss off.”

you immediately shush her, and your next words make him feel like he just ran a marathon. “i still don’t know what you mean. he’s nice… and funny,” you say simply, shrugging.

he repeats the words in his head over and over until the next time you talk to him, which happens to be at a party in the slytherin common room.

outside the party, actually. theo goes to sit right outside the common room entrance with his cup and a cigarette, partly to smoke and partly to get away from some of the girls who were flocking to him and his friends after they had all had a few drinks.

he’s exhaling a puff of smoke right as you’re quietly exiting the party to take a seat next to him and as soon as he spots you, he accidentally inhales the smoke the wrong way and coughs.

“sorry,” he mutters, waving the smoke away before it can go near you. he feels stupid and decides to just dump the thing into his cup before setting it aside. alcohol makes him looser, but it doesn’t make him completely immune to you.

“it’s fine,” you smile, crossing your legs as you settle on the ground next to him. “how come you’re out here every time there’s a party?”

“too loud,” he explains, letting his head rest against the wall as he starts to feel the buzz kicking in. “that, and to get away from all my adoring fans of course.”

this makes you laugh and theo, in his tipsy state, adorns a lazy grin at the sound, not bothering to hide that he’s looking at you.

“i don’t think there was a single girl who didn’t try chatting you or your friends up in there,” you shake your head, amused.

theo swallows, noticing the way you’re fiddling with the hem of your dress and he wonders if it bothers you. he blames the vodka for making him so bold when he says, “you and your friends didn’t.”

“my friends are scared of you,” you reply, raising your eyebrows as if to ask him if he’s surprised. “they think you’re always glaring at me.”

“nah,” he mumbles, looking at you through slightly hooded eyes. the dimly lit corridor makes your skin glow in a way that has him feeling a bit in awe, and he finds himself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. “have they considered i’m staring at you because i think you’re fit?”

he promptly wants to punch himself in the face.

weirdly enough, you don’t look taken aback. you tilt your head as if pleasantly surprised, and your lips quirk up into the ghost of a smirk. “i have to say that explains a lot.”

“how so?” he asks, hesitant to know your answer. his heart stutters when you move closer to him and get up slightly to crouch beside him. your fingers reach out to tuck some of his hair behind his ear and he freezes, utterly still.

“well,” you say softly, a teasing glimmer in your eyes. “every time you speak to me the tips of your ears turn pink.”

and then you get up and leave and theo thinks his face has gone numb. he doesn’t remember much else from that evening, but the next morning his friends are asking him why he looks like he wants to kill someone.

he doesn’t know how to tell them that the someone he’s wanting to kill is himself for telling you he thinks you’re fit.

channeling the embarrassment into something useful, he tries to focus all his energy on the quidditch match he’s in against ravenclaw.

it goes by in a blur and somehow they’ve won, and theo thanks his lucky stars that they have because draco would surely have killed him for throwing the match due to being distracted.

the others run off quickly to the common room to celebrate, and theo tells them he’ll be right there, allowing himself to linger in the changing rooms for some peace and quiet before the inevitable celebrations.

“hey.”

he spins around, still in uniform with sweat dampening his hair and his green eyes fall on you in surprise. “uh. hi. what are you doing here?” he asks, uncertainly after the events of the night before. he hopes to Godric his ears are covered right now.

“just came to congratulate you,” you say with a playful smile.

theo’s brows furrow and his shoulders involuntarily slump slightly. he isn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. “oh.”

you push yourself off the doorframe and enter the room, slowly walking closer to him. he’s never been more grateful for deodorant in his life.

“and one more thing,” you add, inching closer still.

“mhm?” theo is practically holding his breath in anticipation, and when you reach out to gently touch his arm, he stiffens for a second.

“i think you’re fit too.”

a startled laugh leaves him at your whispered words and instead of saying thank you, he finds himself stepping forward to clear the air and say what he’s been thinking since the party.

“i don’t think you’re fit,” he starts, face dropping when your smile falters. “shit, no, i mean you are. fuck,” he breathes out, dragging a hand down his face.

you take in the faint blush creeping up his neck that definitely wasn’t there right after he finished the match and allow him a second to gather himself.

“you’re beautiful,” he stammers, closing the gap between the two of you in earnest. he faintly registers the fact that he’s practically towering over you and leans down in an attempt to be less intimidating. “like, crazy beautiful. i meant to say that yesterday instead of sounding like an absolute twat, but i mean, what else is new when i’m around you-“

you cut him off by grabbing him by the collar of his quidditch jersey and pulling him down to press your lips against his in a firm, unyielding kiss. he stiffens, hands hovering uncertainly at his sides for a moment as though he’s frozen, but it isn’t long before he’s reacting, as though he’s suddenly woken up.

his hands find your waist immediately, pulling you into him and straightening up slightly to deepen the kiss, pulling you up slightly to stand on your tiptoes as your lips slot against his.

theo breaks the kiss to meet your eyes with his own wide ones, rushing out words between kisses. “i don’t think you understand just how long…” he exhales into your mouth, kissing you firmly. “i’ve been wanting to do…” he nips at your bottom lip, making you gasp. “this,” he finishes, grinning into the kiss when you melt against him.

theo takes the opportunity to reach his hands down to your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you over to the wall where he’s suddenly kissing you with a new confidence, moving to pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your neck.

you tuck a finger under his chin to lift his face up to yours where you match his grin, your lips swollen and eyes glazed over. he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

“took you long enough.”

a/n cont.; I hate this soooo bad it was meant to be a silly little drabble and now it’s a block of uncapitalised mess but I’d put too much time into it (less than a day) so here u are I GUESS. take a shot every time I write a kiss that starts exactly that way

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n

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everyonewooeverywhere · 2 months ago

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NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

chapter 2 : dirty bastard

part 1 | masterlist

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: non-idol au | strangers to lovers | angst | fluff (no smut yet, but there will be eventually)

rating: pg-13 (18+ for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually)

word count: 4.7k

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), toxic relationship, yeonjun slander 😞 (again, sry baby)

notes: again, thank you @ateez-main-yapper for being my ride or die with this one 🫠 literally would have never finished this without her (and yes im gonna say that for every chapter get used to it ☺️💗)

The apartment was quiet for the rest of the evening. You’d stopped going to Yeonjun’s gigs ages ago, so you usually had the entire evening to yourself. It was nice, a relaxing way to wind down. It felt like you lived alone in this little apartment for a few short hours. After clearing away all the scattered beer cans and paper plates scattered around the living room, you could live in your little bubble of delusion. A single girl, just enjoying her quiet after a long day.

You tried to keep your previous argument with Yeonjun out of your mind. It wasn’t really a new one. He’d always been wildly insecure around any of your male friends, even though most of them were the boyfriends of your female friends, and it was a disagreement you’d had several times.

He’d never acknowledge the hypocrisy of him having plenty of female friends who hung around him and his bandmates, though. Girls who either didn’t care that he had a girlfriend or simply didn’t know. Being the man that he was, you couldn’t help but assume the latter.

No more Yeonjun thoughts. You told yourself. He was going to be gone the rest of the night, so it was better that you kept him out of your head.

And as you watched the TV you found it was pretty easy to keep him out of your mind, especially when thoughts of another man slipped in so much easier.

The feeling of Yunho’s arms wrapped around your shoulders lingered. The way he’d held you so close and rubbed your back was so comforting. His soft whispers of reassurance floated through your head as if he was still there. As if he was curled up on the couch next to you, holding you because he knew it brought you comfort.

You were baffled at your lack of guilt over the fantasies of being cherished by a man who was certainly not your boyfriend, especially when said man had made it pretty clear that he would’ve made advances toward you had you been single.

But you couldn’t find it in you to care.

And when Yeonjun stumbled into the apartment at two in the morning, you were lying awake in bed. You felt the bed dip as he rolled himself toward you, drunkenly wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into him. “Mmh��Love you, baby,” you let him place a wet kiss on the back of your neck, “M’sorry.”

You didn’t pull away. Letting him hold you close. Imagining the slurring of his voice in a charming southern accent. And wishing the smell of alcohol on his breath was gasoline.

Yunho called you at noon the next day telling you the car was ready for you to pick up. He said that it had been a much quicker job than he’d first anticipated.

His soft southern drawl floated through the phone's speakers, “You need a ride over? I can bring ya some coffee, too.”

A heartfelt smile spread across your lips, “Oh thank you, Yunho. But I think I’ll just have my friend drive me over... If you…happen to still be getting coffee, though…”

The sound of his chuckle made your stomach flip, “I’ll grab ya somethin’, Doll.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Send me your order and whatever your friend wants, and I’ll have it ready for you when you get here.”

He hung up not long after. Huffing and complaining that “Mingi’s being needy.”

“Okay,” you let out a breathy laugh, “Bye Yunho. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you later, Doll.”

You felt an odd sort of guilt over how excited you were to see him, and you felt like you had to consistently remind yourself of your own relationship when you were around him. But it was so hard to mask the way he made you giddy every time he called you “sweetheart.” And nothing could compare to the way “Doll” rolled off his tongue.

You quickly saved his number in your phone before calling up your friend, praying that she was free so you wouldn’t have to call Yunho back and tell him that you actually did, in fact, need a ride.

She picked up in seconds, “Hey, babe! What’s up?”

“Hey Ro, you free this morning?”

You heard an excited gasp, “Yes, please! I don’t care what it is. My mom set me up on another blind date, and I’m like ninety percent sure he’s her pastor’s son. And I’ve met the guy a couple times, and he really gives me the creeps. Please give me an excuse to not go!”

“Rosie, how many times do I have to tell you that you can stay at my place if you need to avoid your mom and her date choices?”

“Babe, I love you, dearly. But there is no way I am sleeping on that couch of yours. I don’t think Yeonjun could keep it clean if he tried.”

You shrugged, “We could always kick him to the couch.”

“Yeah, not sure I want to deal with that, either.”

“Ok, well I actually need to go pick up his car from the mechanic today. Do you think you could give me a ride?”

She gasped again, and you swear you heard something thump against the floor on her end, “Oh my god! Please please please tell me you went to the shop I suggested!”

You laughed, “I mean, I didn’t really have any other options.”

There's a rushed squeal of joy, followed by the sound of her bedsprings crying out in pain as she launched herself off of it, “Hold on, let me put on a better outfit, and I’ll see you in like an hour, okay?”

“Take your time. There’s really no rush.”

“Oh no no no. There absolutely is a rush. Can’t leave any opportunity for someone to swing by and swoop Mingi off his feet before I get the chance.” You loved her dedication to this, “Hey, by the way…just out of curiosity, what color was his hair while you were there?”

“Uhh, it was platinum, I think,” clearly you hadn’t spent much of your time thinking about Mingi’s hair. Or any part of him for that matter. You had other things on your mind.

Her groan bordered on a moan, “Fuckkk, girl, he’s so hot. I need that man more than I need air.”

“Ok, well, finish getting ready, and then come pick me up, and you can get your fix! Oh! And tell me what kinda coffee you want.”

“Alrighty!” Her excitement was clear as day in the tone of her voice.

She pulled up to your building a little over an hour later. Looking absolutely stunning. Her hair was perfectly done up, and she was wearing the purple cardigan and white pleated skirt she had bought when you two went to the mall last month.

“You look cute.” You pulled her in for a hug.

A bright grin pulled at her lips as she squeezed you tight, “Thank you.” She leaned back but held onto your shoulders, “So do you!”

You smiled softly at her, “Really?”

“Yes.” You knew she’d never tell you otherwise, and you truly believed she'd never even considered that she could be wrong. But part of you really needed to hear her reassure you on it today.

She finally let you go after a few seconds and looked around the kitchen, “Where’s the coffee?”

“Oh! Actually the mechanic is getting it for us.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow at you, “The mechanic is getting us coffee?”

“Mhm. He was actually so sweet yesterday. Drove me home, too, because Yeonjun refused to give me a ride,” You sighed as the events played through your mind, “Jun and I actually got into a huge fight in front of him, and he was nice enough to…check on me after it was all over.”

Her eyes were wide as she grinned up at you, “And he’s buying you coffee this morning?”

“Yep.”

She looked beyond excited at this knowledge, “Is he cute?”

“Rosie.” You glared down at her.

“What? I’m just curious,” A giggle bubbled out of her throat

“Curiosity should have its limites Ro, I’m in a committed relationship”

Rosie scrunched her nose and mumbled something under her breath. You couldn’t make it out, but you had a clue. There was no bigger Yeonjun hater on the planet than her. And as much as she tried to keep in underwraps out of respect for you, there was no hiding how deep her distaste for him ran.

But you placed a hand gently on her shoulder, gestured her to the door, “Come on, girl. Let’s go.”

As you pulled up to the shop for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, you couldn’t help but start to feel a little giddy. You fidgeted with your hands in your lap, trying to control your excited anxiousness, but you couldn’t deny the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when that baby blue pickup came into view.

“We’re here~” Rosie sang. Flipping down the visor to reapply her lip gloss in the mirror. She flipped it up just in time to see a very sweaty Mingi manually pulling open the garage doors. “Oh fuck.” She turned to you, “Babe, I love you, but will you be okay on your own?”

The pleading look in her eyes made you giggle. “Go for it girl.”

She giddily slid out of the car and jogged up to the building, leaving you to gather your things with a bit more apprehension in your step. It would have been a bold-faced lie to say you weren’t nervous. Crushing hard on a stranger when you were already in a relationship made you a little sick with guilt. As much as you and Yeonjun fought, being unfaithful to him was the last thing on your mind. Regardless of how you felt about him, you trusted your own character that much at least.

You watched as Rosie and Mingi talked with each other. The flirting blatantly obvious from both parties. You were so glad to see her enjoying herself. Dating had been a nightmare for her because of her mother’s incessant prying into her life. And it had gotten so much worse as of late. Rosie turning twenty-five last month with still no signs of marriage was turning her mother into a bit of a monster. Setting her up with men with questionable histories just because she knew that they would want to get married fast and give her grandchildren.

And while you didn’t know him, Mingi seemed like a great guy. He was absolutely her type, at least. She always had a thing for rugged car guys, so maybe his occupation was a sign from the universe herself that he might just be the one.

A knock on the window of Rosie’s car startled you out of your thoughts, making you drop your purse on the floor, tearing your gaze away from your friend. Oh. Yunho was standing outside smiling at you. You pushed the door open.

He tipped his head toward you in greeting, “Hey Doll, how ‘re you?”

“Oh…I’m alright,” you grabbed your purse off the car floor and finally looked up at him. He looked…good. Really good. Wearing another button up flannel and that same fucking beige cowboy hat.

He held a cup out for you, “Your drink.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You couldn’t help the heat rising in your cheeks when his fingers brushed your own.

He glanced over at your friends who were getting very close as Mingi showed her the engine of a car. Yunho chuckled, “I’ll leave hers on the workbench. I don’t wanna interrupt that.” “That’s probably for the best,” you laughed, following him into the garage.

He set Rosie’s drink down on the bench, taking the opportunity to lean down towards you, “He’s talked about her a lot, you know?” He lowly whispered in your ear.

Pulling back, you fought the urge to shiver at his breath brushing your cheek, “Really?”

He nodded, “Spent a long time gettin’ ready this morning, too”

“Well, she was beyond excited to drive me, so I’d say it’s pretty mutual,” biting your bottom lip. Trying to hide how giddy that knowledge made you feel.

You both glanced over at them and saw Mingi’s hand on the lower part of her back as he reached to show her something inside the hood.

“I think that part’s pretty obvious.” He chuckled and turned his attention back to you, “Well, I got ‘er fixed up for ya.” He patted the hood of Yeonjun’s car.

Your mind was so focused on the proximity of Yunho’s body to yours that you hadn’t even realized that the car was right behind you, “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much, Yunho. This has been stressing me out for a while. I’m so glad it finally got done.”

The whisper of a smile on his lips did nothing to mask the pity in his eyes, “It’s not a problem at all, Doll. You’re an incredible partner for getting it fixed for him.”

An awkward laugh escaped your mouth, “I sure try.”

“You’re doin’ great, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you muttered. A little embarrassed by his flattery.

“And before I forget! I gave her a full detail for ya, too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that…” But your heart fluttered, “What do I owe you?”

He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”

“What? Yunho no. I can’t let you do that.” You started fishing in your purse for your wallet, “Please let me at least pay you for the work yo–.” You peered into your purse to see nothing but your phone, a tube of lip gloss, and a panty liner you kept on you for emergencies. You grumbled, “I forgot my wallet.”

Yunho laughed, “Then I guess that’s settled.” He swung open the driver side door, “Here, have a look.”

“Thank you,” you sighed in defeat.

“Oh! Before I forget.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little pink digicam, “Found this on the floor in the backseat. Figured you might want it back.”

He placed it in your hands and watched as you tentatively flipped it over. Running your finger gently over the power button, but not pressing it hard enough to bring the device to life.

“Let me go grab some paper work, and then you’ll be good to go. Alright, Doll.”

You nodded but didn’t look up, too focused on the weight against your palm, “Ok.”

The cold metal felt unfamiliar in your hands. Its shiny surface reflecting a distorted, pink version of your face back at you. Yeonjun had never been the sentimental type, and the little heart stickers covering the front were not characteristic of him. You rested the beaded strap in your palm, the pearly white and blue glass beads smooth to the touch of your thumb. The name "Camryn" spelled out in bold, white lettering on powder blue hearts.

Yeonjun had female friends, you knew that. They weren’t exactly the quiet sort, their chatter and laughter usually spilling out the windows of Soobin’s car when he would pull up to your apartment. You’d never seen them as a cause for concern. But what would they be doing in his car? Yeonjun never drove himself to gigs or bars or parties. He always had someone else drive him, so how did his friend’s camera end up in the backseat?

Slipping your hand through the beaded strap, you flipped the camera over in your hands. The black screen staring back at you. Your thumb finally pressed the power button, and you watched as the little screen lit up. Flashing a logo at you before the lens pushed itself out and the screen showed your boots below you.

Hesitantly, you opened the gallery. The first photo was a selfie of a girl in a mosh pit huddled close by three other girls who all grinned up at the lens. And as you flipped through the gallery a bit of relief began to creep in. They all seemed to be photos of a girl partying and enjoying nightlife with her friends. But you kept scrolling.

And you eventually reached a photo of Yeonjun. He was grinning at the camera. Happier than you had seen him in years. You frowned at the photo, trying to recall the last time he looked at you like that.

It only took two more clicks for you to reach the first video. You pressed play without even hesitating for a moment.

A giggle seeped through the small speakers on the side, the sound coming out muffled due to the camera’s poor quality. A girl, who you assumed to be “Camryn” was placing the device on a table, clearly aiming to film something. You heard a male voice come from behind her but you couldn’t make out any of the words. When she turned around, you could see Yeonjun lounging on the couch in front of her. His arms splayed out on the back of it.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you knew was coming next.

And as you watched the scene play out, your fears were unmistakably confirmed. She slid onto his lap and let him wrap an arm around her waist.You couldn’t make out his voice, but the way he called her “baby” was impossible to miss.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. The video kept playing, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The way he held her and cupped the back of her head made your stomach turn. Her jacket fell away, and he pulled down her dress, exposing her bare back to you. He was leaning in to kiss her chest when you watched as the camera fell forward on the table she’d propped it up on. Your view became obstructed but you could still hear the muffled sounds of her moans.

You dropped the camera from your hands, letting it swing as it hung from your wrist. Everything felt so heavy. The legs under you didn’t feel like your own. Everything felt disconnected. You couldn’t stop the shaking in your hands or the bile that rose up in your throat.

It felt as if the floor was crumbling under you, and when your knees gave out, you would’ve tumbled into the cool cement beneath your shoes if it weren’t for the pair of arms that caught you before you hit the ground.

“Woah woah woah.” Yunho’s voice came from above you, “Hey, what’s wrong?” You couldn’t even muster up the energy to look up and meet his eyes.

“Y/n?” You heard Rosie run up behind you. Yunho let her take you into her arms. She saw the camera swinging from your wrist and slipped it off. And seeing the video playing on replay answered any questions she would’ve asked you. “Oh babe.” She pushed the camera into Yunho’s hands and wrapped her arms around you tightly., “I’m so sorry,” she whispered into your shoulder.

Just the comfort and familiarity of her arms around you made you break down to tears. You gripped onto her shirt for dear life. She ran a comforting hand over your hair. Letting you cry into her arms.

You had no idea how long she held you like that. But when you pulled away, Mingi and Yunho were clear across the other side of the shop, giving you your privacy.

Rosie wiped a tear from under your eye. “I asked Mingi if he could drive the car back,” she refused to even utter Yeonjun’s name, “I don’t think you should drive like this.”

You nodded, “Ok.”

“Do you want to go back now?” She asked apprehensively.

You took a deep breath, “Yes.” You didn’t have any other words. The sadness inside you was fading into anger, and you didn’t want anyone here to see that part of you.

Yunho came back over. He held the camera out to you, “I figured you might want this back. Might make it easier to…confront him.”

Your lips formed a tight smile, “Thank you, Yunho.” You looked up at him, missing the flutter in your heart that his eyes had given you just several minutes earlier, “You’ve been a really big help. I’m sorry you did all it for some asshole who…” You couldn’t say it out loud yet.

He shook his head, “I didn’t do it for no dirty bastard like that. I did it for you, Doll. Because that’s only the smallest fraction of what you deserve.”

You could only muster out another small “thank you” before Rosie was leading you to her car. And you watched as he stood in the garage door and watched you both drive away.

The numbness was starting to wear off by the time Rosie pulled her car into the lot below your apartment. You could feel the anger seeping into your blood as she parked and turned off the car. A million explanations for why your partner of six long years would cheat on you playing through your mind like a broken film reel.

He’d stopped being attracted to you when your long work hours stopped you from putting as much effort into your appearance as you used to.

He’d only stayed with you so he’d have a place to sleep and food on the table.

He was using you.

He never really loved you.

You wished he’d never really loved you.

Gently, she grabbed your shoulder to get your attention, “Do you want me to come up? I’ll wait outside the door if you’d like. Or do you want me to wait down here?”

“Can you just wait here?”

She nodded and gave your shoulder a light squeeze, “Ok. Call me if you need me. I’ll be right there.” You couldn’t even formulate a response before you slid out of her car. Mute with anger as you rode the rickety elevator up to your floor. Racking your brain over and over and over again for some sliver of a reason for how he could do this to you. After everything you’d done for him and everything he’d put you through. After everything you’d been through together. Memories of the days back in college when you’d spend long nights out together at bars and crash out on the couch in each others’ arms swirling together with the anger swelling in your chest. Making you sick with distress and confusion.

Where did it all go wrong?

When you stepped through the door, the quiet air of the apartment felt so unfitting for your swarming thoughts. Of course, he was still asleep.

But not a sliver of your existence cared when you threw the bedroom door open, letting it slam back against the wall. He didn’t stir. In fact, he didn’t even show a single sign of life until you kicked the bed with the toe of your boot.

When did everything you’d given him stop being enough?

He groaned and lifted his head to glare at you, “What the fuck?”

He had to have loved you at some point, right?

“Get up.”

Where did that end?

“Oh god, what did I do now?”

How did those two carefree lovers end up here?

“Get. Up.”

He sat up and reached into the nightstand for a shirt, “Will you save the nagging for one fucking second? I have a headache.” He pushed himself up from the bed with a huff, striding past you to get to the kitchen, “Is this about yesterday? I don’t want to talk about that right now. Not like you ever fucking listen to me anyway. All high and mighty think you’re better than me beca–”

Every bone in his body froze when he saw the camera sitting on the kitchen counter. He snapped out of his daze, realizing a little too late that you’d followed him out of the bedroom, and had been staring at him from across the counter. Watching his whole body stiffen in place.

Guilty.

“Who is she?”

“Who the hell are you talking about?”

Liar.

He wouldn’t even look you in the eye. Gesturing vaguely at the dusty pink digicam. “What even is this?”

“I am not in the mood to play stupid games with you. Who. Is. She?”

“Do I have to say it twice? I don’t fucking know.”

Did he think you were an idiot?

You slammed your hand down on the countertop, trying to stop yourself from screaming for the neighbor’s sake, “Will you fucking stop!? Turn around, look me in the eyes, and tell me you’re not fucking cheating on me!”

Maybe you were an idiot.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “She’s just a groupie. Comes to our shows sometimes.” He turned to you, mood shifting to desperation, “It wasn’t anything serious, I swear. We never did more than kiss. She doesn’t mean anything, baby please.”

An idiot for buying into his apologies and excuses for so, so long.

You were thankful in that moment that you were still too numbed by shock to cry. A bitter laugh bubbling out of your throat instead, “A groupie? You don’t fucking have groupies, Yeonjun. And there is practically a sex tape on that camera. Don’t play dumb with me.”

“Shit, baby, come on. I’m sorry. It really didn’t mean anything. I was just drunk and stupid and got caught up in the moment.”

You were done.

“Stop! Stop lying. Stop making up excuses! I don’t care! You cheated on me Yeonjun! That’s the fucking issue here!” You paused to take a deep breath, “I don’t care why. I don’t care what the circumstances were. I don’t care how bad you feel. I care that I’ve spent six years making sure you have a roof over your head and food on the table without you ever having to lift a finger, and instead of a ‘thank you, baby’ all I get is you fucking around with other girls.”

He grabbed your hand, and you let him bring it up to his lips and kiss your knuckles. Beyond numb to the feeling.

“We’ll work this out, baby. I swear. I’m so sorry. I’ll help out around the house! And I’ll start looking for a job I swear.”

You nearly scoffed.

“That’s great, Yeonjun,” and you saw him get excited at the prospect of winning this, “But you can do that somewhere else.”

Panic rose in his eyes, “Baby, no. Come on! We can work through this.” His hands started shaking as they held your own, “I can’t lose you.”

“I want you gone by tomorrow afternoon.”

“What?” He froze, “What the fuck? You’re kicking me out!? Where do you expect me to go?”

“Fuck if I care. You should’ve thought about that before you cheated on me. For fuck’s sake you should’ve thought about that before you decided to put your pathetic excuse for a band before me. Before us.”

Anger flashed across his face, and he dropped your hands as quickly as he’d held them. “You know what? Fine. You were never anything but a bitch anyway. You never supported me or my music. At least she knows talent when she sees it.”

The sound you made was more than a little unnerving, laughter ringing through your small apartment. “Nice to know you already prefer her over me. Hope she’s got room for you on her couch tonight.”

He ignored you completely. And you watched as he threw on his shoes and stormed out of the apartment. Slamming the door behind him. You had no idea where he was going, but you didn’t care. It would only take you a couple of hours to pack up all his stuff, and maybe you could leave it at the curb so he’d never have to step foot in your home ever again.

But as his footsteps faded down the hallway, silence enveloped the small space. You could feel the anger collapsing in on itself.. The pain you’d been bottling up for the past couple of hours finally overflowing. And the man who you’d spent years of your life trying to “fix” couldn’t have cared less about anything you did for him.

He couldn’t care less about you.

And as you sank to the floor of your kitchen, you felt the weight of all the time and energy you’d wasted on him. Of all the tears you’d shed and money you’d spent. All the love and youth you’d given. And you knew deep down it was as much your fault as it was his.

ok cowboy: @saintriots @ateezswonderland @fairyofhueningkai @acetyu @kyeomofhearts

@mimikittysblog @pale-hummingbird @deadbabiesmom @moonlightgrleric @cheriediosa

@afetepositivamente

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

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@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @painted-hills

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cindol · 1 year ago

Text

IT’S A BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Portgas D. Ace x black fem reader

꒰͡ 𐙚 ͡꒱ syn — inviting your ex rockstar boyfriend over isn’t such a bad idea, right?

wc: 3409 words (3K words)

17+!

tw— funny/corny banter(deal with it!!), smut, ex bf ace, slight unfaithfulness, ace signs a woman’s titties, oral(woman receiving), fingering, cum eating, dick riding,creaming,

a/n: was suppose to be based on Olivia Rodrigo’s song Vampire but the plot shifted lol !

a cheeky look was on y/n’s face as she looked at the contact on her phone. Her finger was hovering over the call button from the contact “🔥❌❗️”. For the first time in a long time she felt needy, as embarrassing as it was for her to say. It didn’t make sense, she was a very thirsted woman in the media, always having some random or underground rapper in her dms trying to hit on her but still she was lonely and it was all Portgas D. Ace’s fault.

Even after the months following their breakup she still wanted him whether she wanted to admit it or not. Many men couldn’t keep up with her humor or banter the way the cocky rockstar did. He always could respond on time to her sass leaving her bashful and silent. But even with a relationship so balanced they had their issues and it was unsurprising, having two cocky people in a relationship would cause issues. Issues like Ace always being so comfortable with his inappropriate fans, signing their tits and encouraging their behavior made y/n livid and even fuming when seeing how little he cared. It always turned to y/n doing petty things in response and it’s what led to the breakup itself.

Even still after they broke up being the woman y/n was, she still subbed him in anything, always posting a pretty picture of herself with some petty caption that the public could figure out was about her ex rock lover and in reponse ace did the same. Posting corny tweets along the lines of,”she still wants me, yeah I can tell baby they don’t call me the fire rock for nothing 😎🔥” it doesn’t help the fact the two still have each other’s numbers so they argue to the max in messages.

The arguing never stays PG too. Always going to arguments of calling him cocky to borderline flirting. It came to a halt this Saturday evening as her finger hovered on the call button on his contact. She was stuck between giving him the awaiting call since she hasn’t talked to him in over 9 months or keep playing it safe in messages. She bit her lip,”fuck it.” She’ll bite. Pressing the call button she put her phone to her ear. She heard the dial up sound and then what sounded like a pick up on his end and a deep lazy chuckle.”The princess finally calls for her rock.” The line was corny but made her wanna chuckle as she did an eye roll and small smile.”Well a lady shouldn’t even be doing the call first, just did it because I knew you ain’t have it in you to call first.” The sound he spat out was the mix of a laugh and scoff.”Let's go with that baby, sure. I’m just glad to have this awaited call with you.”

She made a soft hum at that.”I’m sure you were.” He chuckled and snorted. She could by that lazy chuckle he was in the position she always saw him in but needed a visual.”what are you even doing right now? Sounds like you’re just on your ass.”

“I’m just laying down.” She huffed.”more details please?” Ace could tell she was in that mood, he could tell with the short breathed huff she made and how quick she said her sentence so he delivered what she needed in a lazy voice.” ‘m laid up on my couch, slouched with my legs spreaded, one hand resting on the arm of the couch with my other hand holding my phone to my ear.” Manspreading, she nearly made a moan. She wished she could see him manspreading in action.

Ace noticed her breathing noises into the phone and shook his head smiling. He was affecting her sooner than he thought.”Now how bout you tell me what you’re doing since you’re making these deep breaths.” His quip got her by surprise but she responded.”Well right now, I’m just chilling. I’m laying on my stomach with my legs kicked up and shit.. not like you and that man spreading.”

A loud laugh erupted in her ear.”please princess, you love me man spreading, driving you crazy you can’t see it though don’t it?” She shivered a bit at his response and took a deep breath before regaining control again.”as much as you’d like to see me in those pretty outfits I’ve always worn for you ace?” When she said that it was like a flashback when she was wearing and modeling all the sexy lingerie she had in black and red for him while he watched.

By his lack of response she could tell she had him.” ‘member the fire colored lingerie and even the bikini’s ace?” She was speaking in a soft tone now making him sweat but he wouldn’t give in too soon.``well let’s talk about the now yeah? Those little bikini’s were fucking hot but what is your pretty little self wearing now?” She giggled at how he switched the conversation.``right now I’m just in some yoga pants and a white tank top, something simple really.” He put the phone away from him for a bit and groaned before placing it back to his ear. He could imagine her body in some yoga attire, seeing her ass in some stretchy yoga pants made him lick his lips.

She checked her nails.”How about you?” He shrugged.”Just a pair of jeans as usual, you know me baby.” SHe raised a brow.”And that hat?” He gave her a ‘mhm’. She was familiar with his hat, not because it was a big staple of his wardrobe and who he was but from past personal experience.

The two sighed thinking of each other now.

“Ace..”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna see you tonight, come over.. please.” He could hear the hitch in your voice and made a soft laugh.”You'll see me when you see me tonight princess.” With that he hung up leaving y/n wanting even more, in her luck he sent her a photo of his lap, the background was the inside of his jeep. She was looking forward to this night

Ace didn’t know how long it took him to be in front of y/n’s door but it couldn’t have taken long with how fast he got here right after their call ended. It surprised y/n when he showed up at her door in 30 minutes. Looking through her door hole she saw him in all his glory. She was truthfully a bit nervous to open her door to him but make a sharp breath and opened it, finally seeing his full body in front of her since the months they broke and were apart made her remember how tasty he looked, to his cowboy hat, black hair down to his beaded red necklace, naked chest and dark blue jeans. The set smirk on his face as he looked down on her wasn’t any better also.

She squeezed her thighs and put a hand on her hip as she saw him staring her down the exact same way she was staring at him.”Are you looking at something rockstar?” He snapped out of it for a second looking at her face then back to her body. The lilac silk shiny robe she had matched her perfectly and hugged her body just right, looking at her chest he could see she was wearing this robe without anything under it. His stare went back to her round face looking at two toned lips and brown eyes then her 4C hair in two puffs.”I’m definitely looking alright.” He leaned on the door a bit, making her just chuckle and shake her head at his little antics.”you’re too much ace, c'mon in.” Stepping away she entered back inside with ace following inside and closing the door.

When looking around everything was so familiar. Turning to see the red velvet couch he always saw in her living he smirked at the memory they shared on it.”takes me back, the nice memories on that love couch mhm..” he said it in a soft tone with his hands in his pockets just making y/n scoff and laugh.”you and I both know the only memories we shared on that couch were sweaty nasty hot ones.” He just scratched his neck humming as if to show he couldn’t argue on that.

Y/n stepped forward to him wrapping her arm around his wrist“Now c'mere, we got a lot to talk about Mm yeah?” She said it in that seducing accent, they both should know they were absolutely getting no serious talking done once she led Ace up her brown wooden stairs.

Once the two got inside her room on top of y/n’s bed their lips were smushed together. The tension they felt from their texts, the call and all the way downstairs was coming out finally. they separated with a string of saliva and a gasp from y/n while Ace took a sharp breath.``what about our talk?” Ace teased but y/n sucked her teeth.”fuck the talk.” With that ace went along to unbutton his jeans and threw them off somewhere. Y/n was on her way to doing the same with her robe till Ace grabbed her wrist.”nah let me, wanna see all of you unravel.” She giggled.”Nothing you haven’t seen already, just a little pudge added.” He just made a cackle at her saying that.”more for me.” He said it in a starved raspy tone making her snort more.

Once his hands went to the long strings holding her robe together and unwrapped them y/n felt this sudden bashfulness come. It wasn’t that she was shy of him seeing her body in so long, just that it changed from last he saw. Her cheeks are more round, breast more fuller and stomach having more pudge including her thighs being more thick. She looked away from his stare. She couldn’t tell if it was a good stare or a bad one.”If you wanna end this we easily can, I can easily find some discarded dildo if you’re not feeling all this.”

He just stared her down making a humming tone. Shd hated it when he did that, it always left her in suspense. Grabbing her chin for her to look up at him he then did a toothy grin and put his own hat on her head.”don’t doubt my abilities baby, I was raised like a good boy. I know how to handle some pudge.” Once her robe then fell off her body revealing her bare naked body, an amused noise came out from his lips. He gripped her hips with his strong hands, making her gasp.”plus I think ya look good, motherly. Might even dump some good kids in ya!” She made a pout, slapping his arm at that.

Letting go of her for just a second he pulled down his boxers letting his dick flop out. Y/n’s eyes peered down, staring at it looking so dumbfounded, making him laugh and pat her head.”Nothing new for you baby, I think you can take it all just like every other time right?” She dumbly just nodded. Flinging off his boxers somewhere he turned his full attention to his ex girlfriend. He gripped her jaw giving her a heated kiss.”No playing games anymore, I’m gonna give you everything you’ve been missing for 9 months, understand?” She just stared at him, no words coming out from his switch up from cocky to serious. She nodded up at him, making him grin at her understanding.

Now sitting on the bed he patted his lap.”Now c'mere.” Crawling over she stared at his lap for a second, eyeing his dick.”Not like it’s gonna bite ya, cmon.” She gulped sitting on his lap but not exactly on his dick a flush was on brown cheeks when he abruptly parted her legs not even wasting time. He put his own fingers in his mouth before inserting two inside her.”oh?” When he moved his fingers around there was a small squelching noise, already wet even before everything.``Needy even before we started?” His other hand multitasked with squeezing her brown mound. She made a soft whimper, nodding.”t-those calls and texts are something y’know? Got me all worked up and shit..”

He was pleased with the effect he had on both her body and mind, he needed to hear more and her exact thoughts too.”yeah? Tell me baby, how’d I make you feel with the texts and calls?” The thrust of his fingers had a steady pace making her arch against his chest.”m-mmph! Got me so needy, even when we were arguing I couldn’t stop thinking of you… you were my ah…! Every thought and in my dreams.” He gave a sharp thrust making her moan out.”What kind of dreams?” She let out what sounded like the mix of a cry and moan.”my wet dreams! You were in my wet dreams!”

He did that familiar hum, something she would be hearing all night.”exactly what I like to hear.” His fingers thrusting pace changed, going from steady to a more fast beat making her throw her head back and whine. He placed soft smooth kisses on her neck.”know my baby’s been needy.. all the texts and fighting back, just let go for me.” He cooed into her ear making her nod, making impatient “mhm!”’s. He added 2 more fingers into her hot snatch.”It's okay though, gonna make it worth your while now.” All that was heard between the two was breathy moans, whispering, kissing and the squelch of her pussy as he jerked his four fingers inside of her.

a sudden gasp came from her as she gripped his wrist.”ace! Gonna cum!” He smirked, moving his fingers faster.”yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers baby?” She frantically nodded her head.”cum” with that one word she creamed on his fingers with a yell. Coaxing her out her orgasm he rubbed her back as her head laid against the front of his shoulder with a bashful lusty look on her face, it was cute really till ace ruined her fun time. Laying her down on the bed he stood up in front of her.”we’re not done yet baby, still got a lot to show you and prove through those texts right?” She softly whimpered in response, looking still with hooded eyes at his taller figure.

Taking her legs in both hands he placed them on his strong shoulders doing a wide eyed big grin peering down at her. She made a weak chuckle from her first argument, trying to humor him a bit.”we’re excited tonight, your first time in a while getting good cooter or something?” He made a small “tch” with a laugh mixed at her quip.”Speaking of cooter,” he lifted her body a bit, getting her comfortable for his feast.”I recall you doubting my abilities, yes? Something like..” he caught by surprise doing a strip lick of her pussy then continuing his talk.”I can’t handle it right? I can’t handle your cooter or something?” Gasping from the first lick and still recovering from the whiplash she didn’t respond as quickly, making him give her a spank on the pussy. That made her whimper and cry out.”y-yes I said that ace!” He gave her another lick getting her sensitive with each one.”Then I think I should prove you wrong, yes? Because you just were obviously talking out your mouth from being depraved for so long baby.” She made a simple nod looking at him with brown eyes.

Gripping her thighs which were placed on his shoulders he bent his head down digging in. His mouth practically made out with her pussy, tonguing her clit and even getting her fat lips wet while she cried out and moaned gripping her sheets. He sucked and licked at her with such a sloppy roughness making her hands go from the sheets to gripping his jet black hair, not that he minded. The more she gripped just means he was doing fantastic. Even with her plea’s he knew she just wanted more.”Mmph! Gonna cum ace! Please!” She exclaimed in a shout but his mouth stayed on her. With no surprise she embarrassingly creamed inside his mouth making him get off and just swallow smiling, making an ‘aah’ sound and her show a brown tinted blush on her cheeks.”so indecent..“. “You love my indecentness though.” She knew she couldn’t argue and made a soft sigh.

Staring down at his lower body she could see his dick was up and ready. Even from just now creaming on his face she made a smirk at it.”morning wood?” She joked pointing down once he let go of her legs. He tsked looking down and clicking his tongue at her joke.”More like night wood baby.”

She hummed while sitting up.”Well, the little man is obviously awake and ready.” He crossed his arms behind his head stretching.”Well you gonna do anything to cure him?” She bit her nail.``Mm.. how bout you c'mere and lay for me, you haven’t even put your dick in me in months and you’ve worn me out already.” He made a small side eye doing a toothy grin while she sat pretty even with tired eyes.”Your wish is my command oh great princess!”

He didn’t waste a second on doing as she pleased and laying on his back for her. Her 5’6 frame towered over his tall 6’1 body a bit but she still looked small anyways. She rubbed his thighs, looking at his tan dick for a minute as he laid there with his hands behind his head.”it’s not gonna bite baby, I’m sure you remember how to ride it real nice right? Or should I just leave while I can?” He teased making her gasp furrowing her brows at him, it was easy to play her and get her to play along. Not wanting him to deceive her skills even in a joking way she gathered her courage slowly inching herself on all his 9 inches doing a small whisper count down before she sat on all of him. a breathy gasp came out feeling all of his thickness inside her for so long.

Ace could see her hesitating before he gave a harsh slap to her ass.”prove me wrong.” That made her clench, making a low groan come from Ace's throat. Putting her hands on his shoulders she rode him at a slow pace at first, getting more sloppy with it as her pussy made squelching sounds. Moans, whimpers and groans echoed inside the bedroom with sounds of skin slapping. She made short breathing gasps losing her pace from energy and ace noticed. Giving both ass cheeks short slaps he grabbed her attention again.”I’m gonna have to help ya or something sleepy head?” He gave a sharp thrust making her cry out.”you gotta prove me wrong baby,”

She nodded along with a single tear in her eye from his unwarned thrust.” ‘m am..” with some of ace’s help lifting her ass and slapping her back down she got back into the rhythm, this time her pace being faster with ace’s rough hands gripping on her waist to slam her down making cries and high moans coming from y/n while grin had a toothy grin showing his shiny whites.”you gotta prove me wrong ‘member?” She just made a cry in response, gripping on his shoulders, bouncing herself.”a-ace! Can’t pleasee, ‘m gonna cum please please!” She made a plea in a whiney voice through her moans.

Ace groaned with her feeling her clench and took over.”never can take the lead? Was always my needy girl.” With some sloppy thrusts from Ace she felt an orgasm coming.”Mm! Cumming— gonna cum ace I-!” With a loud squeal she creamed on his dick. Ace made a hum at how in weakness she laid her head on chest.

“I’ll give ya a break, pretty sure I could get some more outta ya.”

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itstheghostofmypast · 7 months ago

Text

Never Enough

Idol AU Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: “Sannie boy, women…are a mystery…and as a man, you’ll just have to keep pretending like you’ve figured them out, just to keep your sanity intact.” He wouldn't be San if he didn't get to the bottom of this.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: insecurities, toxic relationships, low self-esteem issues

Word Count: 4.4k

Est.Read Time: 22 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

Tossing his keys on the table, he walked into the apartment, peeking into the kitchen to find Mingi and Seonghwa standing above the stove, deciding the fate of what was supposed to be tonight’s dinner. Considering he had skipped lunch, he only settled for an iced-coffee he really was ready to eat a whole horse. Tapping on the door frame, he caught their attention, raising his eyebrows and gesturing towards the stove, “What’s for dinner.”

The other two exchanged a look before Mingi smirked at the mountain of a man, “Don’t know about us, but I’m sure you’ll just skip to dessert.”

“...”

“What?”

With a heavy sigh, the unearthly gorgeous man next to Mingi shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling the upcoming headache, “Your girlfriend’s here, said she wanted to surprise you.”

His head tilted at the mention of his lover, lower lip jutting out in a pout as he tried to think about her, he had not spoken to her the entire day, or texted her, even her ‘good morning’ text seemed awfully dry. He had asked Wooyoung about it, who had ever so kindly responded with, “Sannie boy, women…are a mystery…and as a man, you’ll just have to keep pretending like you’ve figured them out, just to keep your sanity intact.”

“You sure?” the words left his mouth before he could stop, or even phrase them correctly, eyes darting to the face of his more observant flatmate, regretting it immediately when he met his curious boba eyes.

“Well…unless she has an evil twin, I’m pretty sure it’s her,” Seonghwa narrated, picking up the wooden ladle to taste the soup, only to grimace at the taste, then turn back to the man, “You seem surprised she’s here, did something happen?”

“N-no, no, nothing happened.” clearing his throat he quickly brushed him off, with a wave of his hand, bidding them goodnight as he marched towards his room, making sure to make minimal noise as he cracked open the door, peaking in to find all the lights had been turned off, even the side lamps were off- okay, so they were either playing a dirty trick on him, or something was up.

He flicked the lights on as soon as he entered the room, eyes scanning for the certain individual, only for him to let out a small gasp and turn them back off, scurrying over to a side to turn on the small lamp, before quickly glancing in her direction as he let out a small sigh in relief, glad he had not woken her up. A small smile replaced his pout as he leaned closer, her perfume enveloping his being as he sighed in relief, a hand brushing the hair off her face, before his knuckles gently caressed her warm cheek, taking in the tired expression she wore even though she was asleep. As much as he loved how independent and confident she was, it hurt him to see her like this, burdened and tired, and a part of him wished he could somehow help her- but every time he’d ask, she’d just smile at him and pinch his cheek, thanking him instead, it really did confuse him, especially when she’d add, “Thank you for being the only person who never wants anything in return, Sannie.”

Even though the two had been together for a while, there was much about her he still could not understand, possibly due to the fact that she would never talk about herself- that is unless it was something important, though he was glad that he was at least receiving this much.

More often, it would be about him, what he’d like to do, what he’d like to eat, where he’d like to go on Valentine’s day, if he’d ask her, she’d fire back with the ‘where you feel best.’ Initially, he didn’t like this at all, for him, your partner is supposed to put in the same amount of effort, she’d do any and everything he liked, which is why he had begun to feel as if this was only working out because she’d agree to everything he’d say- he was the one leading this relationship.

Due to this very reason, earlier on in their relationship, he had decided to break things off with her, like the gentleman he was, he had asked her if they could meet in person, and she had instantly said yes. Finding a quiet small diner wasn’t difficult, the difficult part was when he’d have to break the news to her, truth be told he really did like her, but her persistent ‘yes woman’ behaviour had led him to believe that this was unhealthy for both of them. Unfortunately, he was unable to do so, especially when he had seen her smile at him, skipping to his table that was way in the back corner, placing a gift bag in front of the man, urging him to open it.

“What is it?”

“You have to open it, silly, it’s a gift!”

“Why? It isn’t my birthday.” pushing the bag aside, he sighed before glancing up at her, only to notice how her smile had dropped, eyes wide, swirling with an emotion he couldn’t comprehend. Maybe he had spent a minute too long, trying to think of what to say or do, before she cleared her throat and gave him a tight lipped smile, sitting down on her seat across from him, nodding at him.

“You’re right…” she began, that faux smile of hers was present, something stirred within him that night, he’d never seen her smile like that, usually, whenever she’d smile at him, he’d notice how her eyes would twinkle, lips stretched to a beaming grin- that’s not what he saw at the moment. “I just saw this recently and thought…you’d like it…you don’t have to accept it and- I- I didn’t do this to receive anything in return.”

That was all it took for him to reach into the back and pull out a small box, opening it to find a keychain, holding it up to the light he glanced at her and then back at the shining plastic figure, a Tetsuro Kuroo keychain. He had mentioned once how he liked the anime, but he never mentioned his favourite character.

“I have a Kenma one…I just thought you’d like Kuroo…cat and all…you know.” she mumbled faintly, somewhat embarrassed now, “I- I know it’s stupid, it’s just-”

“I love it.”

She glanced up from her hands to meet his sharp eyes, flinching at the way he was staring right through her, before he gently placed the keychain back in the box, after making sure it was wrapping in the pale purple tissue to avoid any scratches. A small smile graced her lips, eyes falling back onto her lap as she nodded, mumbling, ‘That’s good to know.’

“I need you to be honest with me,” he began, somewhat conflicted if he really wanted to end things with her now, only continuing when she looked up at him and nodded, “Do you…chose not to disagree with me out of fear?” He was unsure if that was a rude question, but the way she bit her lower lip, avoiding his eyes, oh he loved how Wooyoung had convinced him this girl was only dating him because he was an idol, but that was not what he could see, leave it to Choi San to fall for someone who was trained to believe that love was a game of exchange, and for her to earn any form of liking, she must first prove herself worthy.

Picking at her nail she glanced up at him, trying not to let it slip, anything slip, instead of choosing to whisper, “I…I just don’t want you to be upset.”

“I think you trying to seek my approval is what upset me the most.” he sighed, leaning back against his seat, taking in her posture, shoulders slumped, hands in her lap, eyes lowered. For a moment, he really wondered if putting in the effort was worth it, trying to be with someone who was already not sure of herself.

“I’m sorry…I just…really like you, and I…didn’t want you to- I- what if you don’t like the same things I like?”

Shaking his head in defeat, he leaned closer, resting his forearms on the table, “Then wouldn’t that mean that I’m not the right guy for you, too? Right?” he watched her nod then lower her head, clenching her eyes shut, and from the way her shoulders had been shaking, he could tell she was trying to hold back. Maybe he was too kind for his own good, because he reached over and grabbed her hand, holding it in his, as he met her eyes, “I’m not saying let’s break up…All I’m asking for is honesty, I don’t care how bitter, how negative or rude, just…be honest with me, you know almost everything about me, but, I still know surface level stuff about you, yeah?”

For once in his life, he was glad to have talked it out, to have handled it maturely, because as the days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, he had learnt more and more about her. The way she had begun to open up to him, even if slowly, he loved it. The first time she had ever refused his suggestion had him smiling like a mad man, almost scaring her as well;

“You wanna get ice cream?”

“Sure…”

“There’s a couple’s deal on mint choco-”

“I’d rather starve.”

Sighing, he smiled down at her, knowing that if she was here right now, tangled in his sheets, hugging his pillow, something was bothering her, and perhaps for some time, if she had to retreat to his place as a safe haven. With one more glance, he quickly tucked her in, making sure to press his lips against her temple, before deciding to take a shower.

He walked back into his room, humming to himself, his towel draped over his broad shoulders, his blank top clinging onto him like skin, hair curtained over his forehead as his eyes landed on her- “Oh?”

Somehow, the man found himself sitting on the bed, back against the headrest, arms around her waist, with her straddling him, her arms around his neck, foreheading pressing against his chest.

“So…I take it your day was bad?”

“Mhmm…” she mumbled before sitting up straight, her hands sliding off his neck, palms tracing his form before resting on his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles, looking up at him dead in the eye, completely blank and serious, “Do you want to do the deed?”

He blinked at her, letting the words sink in before tilting his head, “Um…you mean have se-”

She covered his mouth with both hands, pink dusting her cheeks, the sound of the AC gently wafting in the room as he let her do as she pleased. His fingers that had been toying with the hem of her shirt stopped, moving to gently place both hands on her thighs, giving a light squeeze, wanting her to remove her hands.

Slowly she pulled back, placing her hands flat on his hands before nodding, “Yes…that.”

“So you want to ‘do the deed’, but don't want me to say the word?”

“No.” She let out a huff, peeling his hands off her and wrapping them around her waist, as she pressed herself against him, “Do YOU want to do it?”

“Well…I’m a man, not only that, I’m a man, who’s girl is literally pressing herself onto him,” he mumbled, bringing his hands to her shoulders and creating some distance as he raised an eyebrow, “Most of all, I’m the same man who agreed to your terms of the deed being done after marriage, so tell me, why are you suddenly changing your terms?”

Pouting at him she slipped her hands between them, placing them on his chest, “Are you sure? Do you not find me attrac-”

“I have good self-control, but it’s not perfect.” he hissed, as he gripped her cheeks, squeezing them gently before lowering his neck to glare at her, his sharp eyes trying to crack whatever the hell was happening in her head, “Now, tell me where all this is coming from.”

“Ish nuthin’ .’’ He blinked at her, taking in the way she let him squish her cheeks, her lips forming a pout as he sighed before leaning closer to press his lips against hers, but only for a moment, too afraid he'd lose composure. With a gentle pat to her cheek he pulled back, leaning against the headrest once more, hands folded on his belly, staring at her, instantly regretting the hold he had on her at the sight of her reddened cheeks, faint imprints of his fingers leaving a mark.

The two sat there in silence, nothing but the slight buzz of the air conditioner present in the room, he was quietly observing her, a small smile gracing his pleasant features, watching her sitting there on his thighs, looking at her hands, examining her freshly painted nails- purple. She really did amuse him sometimes, asking for something like ‘doing it after marriage’ but still choosing to sit in his lap without a care in the world. It brought him great pleasure, the feeling of her blind faith that she held towards him.

“You like?” Breaking the peaceful silence, she raised a hand, showing him her nails, smiling when he nodded in return, “Mhmm…”

“I wanted to get like a diamond on this one-”

“So, are we gonna talk about this…or?” His question cut her off, causing her to sigh, and shrug, “I…” reaching for his hands, still nestled on his belly, she turned them around, his larger hands in hers, turning them to face palm up, “Last week…at work…they were talking about who was still single- guess what, I am.” With the tip of her index finger, tracing random patterns on his stretched out palm, as if she were painting on a canvas, he tried to focus on what she was writing but her statement caused his eyes to lock on her face, pouting at her statement, “But..you aren't.” He knew this relationship was to be kept private, and she did too. Did she want to come public?

“S.A.N” he caught it quickly, looking down at her purple nail, caressing his skin. What was she thinking?

“I know, I just told them I'm waiting for the right person, but…then SHE said I don't have a love language which is why I'm this hopeless…”

Oh. So this wasn't about him, but just her. He knew whom she was referring to, a new recent hire. One she claimed was a two-faced no-good punk. Honestly, her words had caught him off guard, never seen her ‘hate on someone’ this quickly. That was exactly why he believed her. And if one were to speak about her love language, true for a while, San was unsure of how she'd express herself too but then-

“She was like there are five to six types of love languages and I- I don't have any!”

‘♡’ nodding he tilted his head, trying to suppress a smile at the feeling of her drawing a heart, he could easily tell what it was, ever the romantic. Honestly, he wanted to meet this lady, who had been bothering his little overthinker for the past few months, it was and enough she often felt she didn't deserve love, we didn't need a complete psycho adding fuel to the fire. He was about to reply but got distracted when she wrote something else,

‘us’

“I think yours is touch, physical affection! I can tell when you're with everyone, it's sweet.” She smiled up at him, lowering herself, moving closer to him, to make sure she met his eyes that were glued to their hands, his eyes meeting hers for a split second, widening as he realised the lack of response from his end. Glad his freshly washed fluff of hair was covering most of his eyes, obscuring the view of her face, any longer, and his lips would've been claiming what was his.

“Yeah…it is.” He breathed our, turning his head to look at something else. The wall was interesting enough. Maybe having her sitting on him wasn't the smartest idea-

“Do you not like me enough to show me the same way?”

His head snapped back in her direction, hands leaving hers to gently cup her face, making sure she wouldn't look away. The sombre look on her face already had his heart sink to his stomach, “I don't just like you…I love you…and…I'm touching you right now? Right? I just don't want to cross a line, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. That's all.” he gave her a small smile, trying to help her feel the sincerity of his words.

Taking a minute to process his word she just hummed, not saying a yes or no, which in return made him press his forehead against hers, wanting her to understand how he felt, “And she's wrong…you do have one…it's called acts of service.”

“Slavery?”

“No, I-” Letting out a sigh he pulled back and raised an eyebrow at her, “Seriously?”

“What! You said it!” arguing she leaned back, her hands resting on his knees as she frowned at him, “well explain then, ‘master Choi.”

He gulped at her outstretched form, eyes trailing from her face down to her neck, and that loose shirt she wore - definitely raided his closet- as finally stopping at her thighs, it truly amazed him, how she had no clue what she was doing to him, that and he was one strong willed man. Not to mention the little nickname had him squirming in place, he could feel the cold-sweat trickle down the back of his neck, “I…” Clearing his throat he looked back up at her, “It means, you do things that you know will keep me safe and healthy, you take care of all the little things and details usually people overlook, like how you make sure to stuff some oreos in my bag, or how you sometimes get food delivered to our apartment, enough for everyone but it's always my favourite and,” his breath hitched at the way she was looking at him, as if he was her whole world, as if he were the only reason she chose to wake up every morning, “You find enough time from your hectic nine to five to drop by and sleep in my bed, waiting for me, just so I have someone to hug at night.”

By now most of her insecurities were put to rest, the constantly replaying memory of her coworker embarrassing her in front of everyone at work seemed to become a distant memory, especially when he began to move, gently pushing her back, until she was laying on the mattress, looking up at him with a quizzical look, as he hovered above her, his forearms digging into the soft bedding on either side of her head.

“Sannie?”

“Did you…tell your mother about us?”

The way her face contorted into some form of discontentment gave it away, it did not go well. Perhaps she did not approve of him being an idol? Or maybe he just was not whom she pictured her daughter with. Maybe she was not comfortable with her daughter dating someone who had to travel a lot-

“She asked me how long till you realise I'm a waste of time.”

His eyebrows scrunched at the statement, widening his eyes as he looked at her, as if he hadn't heard her correctly the first time, causing her to sigh and repeat,

“I told you, and although she was glad, she was worried that I'd do something to push you away- well, in my case, not enough to have you stay.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I'm incapable of loving, San. There will be a time when you realise I can't match your expectations and you'll finally decide to move on because I'll never be enough.”

The words she had so carelessly slipped past her pretty lift hit him like a ton of bricks, causing him to push himself off her, sitting on his knees instead as he blinked at his dull reflection on the blank TV screen. A part of him wondered what in God's name was that even, wanting to go outside to take a few deep breaths before coming to talk to her in a rational manner, the other part of him, the more immature one, was convincing him to yell at her for being like this.

Sitting on her forearms, she looked up at him, watching him lost in thought. Maybe she should just go now and not wait for the horrid heart break that would eventually conclude this relationship. It's not like she wanted to believe the words of her parent, but at the back of her mind she knew, she knew she'd never be enough, no matter how much she'd try- there just some people who could never meet expectations and she was one of them, which would explain why she felt it was justified if he walks away-

“Do you believe that?”

Her eyes met his, an unusual emotion swirling within his dark orbs, “Do you believe her?”

“Well, she is my mother, so I'm sure she's right-”

“That's not what I asked you,” he snapped at her, an edge to his tone causing her to flinch and lower her gaze, “ I asked if you believe you don’t deserve to be loved?”

“Yes…” she breathed out, licking her lips out of nervousness, “I-I do.”

“Because love is an exchange?” His frown deepened at her meek nod, “Then what do you think I want in exchange?”

“I'm…not…sure.”

“What do you want in exchange?” He flipped the question, borderline scared of her answer, but a part of him knew what it was, but the more dominant side was afraid of his guess being wrong.

“I want…I just…” her breath hitched, biting her lower lip to keep composure before flopping back down on the bed, pressing the heel of her palms against her eyes, whimpering, “... want you to love me.”

The man felt himself relax, expressions softening as he pouted at the way she was crying before him, unsure if he should use words or…honestly he knew he couldn't just pluck this insecurity out of her, especially when it was stitched into her being. She’down often tell him how even as a child, she'd only be able to get a toy if she got a good grade, got praied if she got a good grade or achieved something worth notice but at the end of the day, it was never enough, because after that came another obstacle she’d have to overcome to gain recognition-and till now, he had just discarded those things, thinking they had no real impact in shaping her, boy was he wrong.

The sudden weight pushed the air out of her lungs, feeling his fingers grip her wrists before her hands were pulled away from her face, only for her to stare at the ceiling. She looked down to find his head resting against her chest, a broken laugh causing his head to shake on her chest. He looked up at her with a pout, resting his chin on her, “It's so silly, how that's all I planned to give you anyway.”

“Huh?” she blinked at him, watching him rise up, pressing wrists into the mattress as he approached her, the tip of his nose brushing against hers, “You're so silly…you think if I didn't love you, I would have agreed to your terms?”

“I…I don't know…” honestly she wanted to respond, but this form of intimacy was new to her, sure, they would sleep together sometimes, but that would just be sharing a bed, he'd never really held her down, never pressed himself against her like this.

“I said yes to the ‘deed after marriage’, because,” he paused, ony to brush his lips over hers before kissing her properly, making sure to add enough pressure to leave her out of breath when he moved back, “I want to marry you one day, you think some silly little exchange policy is going to scare me away?”

Her eyes widened at his confession, about to burst into tears once more but he shook his head, “No! No more crying! No more silly sad thoughts!” He declared, yelling loud enough for her to shush him, “I WANT TO SEE YOU HAPPY!”

“I'm happy! I'm happy, Sannie, shhh!” She whispered, only for her to break out in a fit of giggles when he dug his fingers into her sides, smirking at the way she was wheezing and trying to fight him off.

“Are you sure!?” He hollered, following her as she tried to crawl away, grabbing her by her leg and pulling her back to him, giving her a crooked smile, “I don't think so-” his eyes fell to the shirt that had slid up when he pulled her back down, quickly skimming over the expanse of the bare skin, trailing lower to the purple lace, “Did you...where…I…no shorts!?” He asked, not really bothering to look away from a sight he had never witnessed before.

“Well I- I mean I randomly came by and,” she mumbled, pushing her shirt down to cover her naked legs, rolling it down till it reached her thighs, “I didn't wanna go through your underwear drawer…that's disrespectful.”

“You went fishing in my cupboard for this though,” he asked, frowning at the coverage, before gripping the hem of the cotton and flipping it over, causing her to shriek, “San!”

“Hmm” no longer registering anything he slowly got off her, climbing off the bed as he walked out the door, leaving her extremely confused, her only clue was, “Will be back in five.” Was he okay?

Honestly, she would've asked if everything was alright, but after this entire confession, she felt as if an anvil had been lifted off her chest. Feeling much better as she snuggled into his sheets, half awake as she waited for him, only for her to almost doze off till she felt his arm wrap around her waist, sliding her closer to him, till her back was pressed against his chest. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, only she had turned her head to meet his kiss, though she paused, eyes flickering to his went strands, glistening under the dim atmosphere light of the lamp.

“Did you take a shower again?”

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against hers, his hand giving her thigh a gentle squeeze trailing back to her waist.

“Why?” She yawned, too tired to really care.

“Doesn't matter,” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose into her warm cheek before leaving a sloppy kiss, enough for her to whine, which he ignored, only to respond with, “Better wear purple on our wedding night too.”

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

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blackbat05 · 4 months ago

Text

Biggest Supporter

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: Your week has been difficult and the emotions start to pile up on you. Luckily, Jason has the perfect plan for a Friday evening self-care.

Genre: PG-13, Comfort

A/N: Wrote this one shot when I should have been sleeping🤡 The week has not been the easiest and you know my style… writing to release the steam. I hope you still enjoy and that it brings some sort of comfort if you’re struggling as well. Reblogs appreciated!

This week was really not it.

You were almost reaching the end of the week, where you could taste the sweetness of a Friday when shit had to hit the fan.

First, the kids weren’t listening to you as you tried to conduct story time. You tried to be assertive and authoritative as possible but frustrating was only the one word out of many that you had at the end of the day.

The next day wasn’t any better as you had to sit through a meeting that left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt eyes on you as you walked around the campus but tried to keep your head up high.

Then, it happened.

You had to stop an actual physical fight in the library.

Unsuccessfully should be the prerogative word.

Teachers came out of the staff room like bees attracted to honey- or screaming in this case and you had never felt more embarrassed. Still, you had a job to do. Reporting and crowd control.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. You kept trying to tell yourself that the suggestions were out of goodwill. But it didn’t help when you kept replaying it in your head and they sounded uglier by the second. As if it was directed at you and your incompetence.

It took a lot to squash down your anxiety and insecurity to back where it rightfully belonged. But you were valid to be upset at the injustice you were facing. You wished you had quicker comebacks at the remarks instead of a weak defense that only made you sound like you were just making excuses.

No. You had to be strong, you had to believe that you were doing the right thing all this while. The air felt thick again and you were glad when school ended and you could leave earlier on a Friday.

As you head down the stairs, you see a familiar motorbike parked next to the security guard post and a mop of black hair with a tinge of white.

“Jason!” You waved happily as you reached the bottom.

“Hey princess.” He opens his arms for a hug which you gladly accept. “Looks like I got here in time.”

“You have no idea.” You groan into his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

Waving goodbye to Sam, the friendly guard, the two of you prepare to set off on his bike and straight into the weekend.

The ride was everything you needed. The gust of fresh air was a much welcome reprieve. Suddenly, the emotions from the week start to swell in your chest and you fight the urge to cry by leaning further into Jason’s back.

“Let it out!” Jason yells to make himself heard over the howling wind as you zoom across the expressway. “You’ll feel better!”

So you do. You let your tears run even if it means you’ll probably look like a puffy eyed demon when you reach your destination.

It wasn’t easy, coming to this point of your job. You knew how hard you had to fight for everything that you had achieved so far. You made sure to not make the same mistakes and all was going well.

That is why you absolutely hated the fact that this week had rattled you very badly that it dredged up old wounds.

Blinking away your tears, the bike slows down and you find yourself in front of a Korean Restaurant that you’ve always wanted to visit.

“You’re too good to me.” You thanked Jason, still riding high on all the emotions. But you didn’t care about putting them on display because Jason was the only one who knew and understood what you were feeling.

“I did nothing.” Jason is modest and guides you inside the restaurant, ready for a sumptuous and hearty meal of spicy stew.

As you wait for the pot to boil, Jason looks at you through the rising steam as you recount to him your week. He doesn’t interrupt, making the right reactions at the appropriate times.

“You did everything you could. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Jason says as you finish. “I wasn’t there but you sounded really badass.” He tries to lift the mood, earning a small smile from you even though you don’t say anything.

Jason frowns. “What did your boss say?”

“She said that it was beyond my control and I did everything that I could.” You sigh. “But maybe they’re right. I have to be stricter than these incidents will stop happening.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Jason is firm. “You’re not at fault. Did you do what Macy did the last time?” He asks, referring to your recent librarian and supervisor who left the job to go to Spain with her family.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to change it too drastically.” You respond and Jason nods as if all this was logical.

“Exactly. You did what she’s supposed to do. You’re continuing what she is doing. And if anyone has any smart-ass opinions, tell them to take it up to management themselves instead of directing their anger at the wrong place.” Jason becomes more heated by the second and you can’t help but to be a little amused by this. You’re grateful for a loyal best friend like him.

“I’m serious! If this happened previously before you came, then it’s not on you.” Jason insists. “And! Where was the help when you needed it! Do more fights have to happen before you get reinforcements?” He rattles off, taking a big gulp of water from the cup.

“Thanks Jaybird.” You take his bowl and pour some stew in. “I knew I could count on you to be on my side.”

“Always. Besides, you couldn’t do any wrong.”

You laughed, taking a sip of the comforting stew that instantly made your worries go away for that moment.

“But I’m serious.”

“About what?” You ask.

“That you’re doing a great job.” Jason states. “Not because I’m trying to humor you,” he clarifies. “I think you’ve went out of your way to try to fill that empty gap as much as possible for these kids. Considering what you went through back then, you could have just taken a back seat.”

As Jason’s encouragement spills out from the bottom of his heart, you realized that was all you needed. That despite shitty moments, someone told you that you did your best, and that was all that mattered.

“So don’t think about it too much alright? At least not tonight. Because we are going to have the best meal of our lives!” Jason declares, ordering a soju bomb. You protest at that but he waves the concerns away, mischievously waving a black credit card which you could only assume belonged to one person.

“Only for my best girl.” He grins, offering to clink glasses with you. “To being your biggest supporter and shitting on shit people!” He raises his voice, earning some stares from other patrons, causing you to giggle.

“Cheers! To trusting myself and not listening to shit people!”

Jason roars with delight at your loose lipped declaration and pours you another drink, continuing the carefree evening with good food, good laughter and the best company.

Yeah, you were going to be okay.

#jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader

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horanghaejamjam · 1 year ago

Text

Too Late To Apologize - {JWW}

↪ Summary: They say you don't know what you have until you've lost it. Unfortunately, Wonwoo has to learn this the hard way.

↪ Pairings: Wonwoo x Female Reader

↪ Rating: PG

↪ Genre: Angst / Slight Fluff

↪ Word Count: 5.1k

↪ Warnings/Contents: Unresolved fight, Description of car crash and aftermath. Not too detailed but please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

↪ Side Notes: A little something for y'all while I finish editing Horanghae! This was a past commission for a lovely anon. Thank you to them for their support and request for this story. My commissions are open and you can find more info in my pinned post if you are interested in getting your own!

↪ Click here to see my other Seventeen stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

The kitchen was eerily quiet, so quiet that the only sounds you could make out were that of the dishwasher draining and your own foot tapping impatiently against the tiled floor. Every thirty seconds or so you would glance down to check the time on your phone, wishing that the dreaded clock would freeze or turn back in time. It was 11:45 pm, fifteen minutes away from midnight. Even worse, it had been almost three hours since your fiance said he would be home. The nice dinner you had made for the both of you had gone cold a long time ago, yours half eaten while his plate was perfectly untouched. You wanted to get up and throw everything out, but your emotions were keeping you trapped in your seat.

You didn’t want to be mad at Wonwoo, you knew that he worked hard and being kept late wasn’t his fault, but it was hard to contain the anger boiling inside you with every passing minute. You had practically begged him to be home by nine, saying that you wanted to make a special dinner and have a nice night with just the two of you. The two of you hadn’t been able to spend time together since he was on tour, and the second he got back he threw himself into working on their next album. You tried to support him, making sure the house was clean, all the chores were done, and even making sure to make him lunch every morning before work because you knew he wouldn’t remember to do it himself. You even did most of the wedding planning since Wonwoo had been too busy to attend any of the meetings. Even when he could, he always seemed indifferent or uninterested and left all the final decisions up to you which added even more pressure. All of this on top of working your full time job so he wouldn't be the sole breadwinner in the relationship. It felt like you did everything for him and yet he couldn’t even dedicate a few hours of his time to you. One night, that was literally all you asked for. One night where the two of you could sit down, have dinner, and actually act like a couple who's getting married in a few months. You really didn’t feel like you were asking for much, and the more you thought about it, the harder it got to hide how hurt you were. Part of you was starting to think that Wonwoo didn’t care, that he would rather be married to his job than you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally forced yourself to stand up from your spot at the table, accepting that he wasn’t coming home. You scraped the remainder of your dinner into the trash and wrapped up Wonwoo's so that he could heat it up whenever he decided to come home. As you were clearing the table and getting ready to finish the dishes, you heard your door unlock. Your whole body tensed as your fiance walked through the door, taking his time to put his stuff away and take off his shoes before finally meeting you in the kitchen.

“Hi, I didn’t think you would still be awake,” he said, walking past you to grab a glass from the cupboard. You tensed up and kept your gaze on the table, refusing to look up at him. Had he really forgotten your plans for the evening, or did he just not care? If Wonwoo noticed the change in your attitude, he didn’t mention it as he focused on getting his glass of water. “How was work?” he asked after a moment of silence, making you bite your lip to keep from snapping.

“Fine,” you muttered blankly, still not looking at him, “yours?”

“Busy,” he replied with a hum, “we’re trying to finish recording for the new album but there’s been a few hiccups, so we had to redo a lot of it.” You supposed that explained why he was late, but it still didn’t forgive the fact that he came home three hours after he was supposed to without even letting you know. Apparently Wonwoo had continued talking and you hadn’t heard it, as you suddenly felt him right behind you and his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?” you muttered.

“You’ve been tense since I walked in here, I know somethings wrong so what is it?” You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry at his question. It seemed he really had forgotten what you two had planned, and that hurt way more than you were willing to admit.

“What time is it Wonwoo?” you asked, clearly catching him off guard.

“Just past midnight, why?” you took a deep breath to compose yourself before answering.

“What time were you supposed to be home?” He was silent for a moment before finally realizing what you were talking about.

“Oh right, I’m sorry about missing dinner but I couldn’t just leave the guys, you understand right?”

“Yeah I guess,” you muttered under your breath, moving away from him to walk into the living room. You really didn’t want to argue with him, not right now, but it seemed that outcome was unavoidable.

“Come on Y/N don’t do this, you know that my work is important. We can just have dinner another night,” Wonwoo said as he followed after you.

“I know your work is important but this was important to me! We haven’t spent time together in months and I ask for one night, a few hours, and you’re still too busy for that!” you whined.

“I already said I’m sorry I don’t know what else you want from me!” Wonwoo exclaimed, his tone getting sharper which didn’t help your emotions at all. You were trying to stay composed but every second that passed you could feel tears burning your eyes and your resolve slipping.

“I don’t want an apology Wonwoo I just want to be able to spend time with my fiance, is that too much to ask?”

“You act like we never see each other and you and I both know that isn’t true,” he argued, “I’m busy, okay? Not only am I working to be able to support us but I also have the guys and the fans who need my support as well, I can’t just abandon them because you want my attention.”

“I’m not saying I want you to abandon them!” you exclaimed, getting more frustrated now, “I know how demanding your job is and I have done nothing but try to love and support you despite being busy myself. You’re not the only one who works full time you know! Despite that I still make time to check up on you and take care of you, but when I ask for one night you can’t even put aside that time for me.”

“I’m not feeling very supported right now,” Wonwoo stated. There was no change in his tone or anything to show malice, but those words hurt worse than anything else he could have said. Maybe it was because you were exhausted and already emotional, or maybe it was because it seemed like that’s what he honestly thought, either way though, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh really?” you snapped, marching back over to him so there was only a few inches between you both, “tell me then Wonwoo, who wakes up early every morning to make you lunch before going to work? Who left work early to bring you and the boys food because you didn’t get a break from practice? Who stayed up with you until sunrise helping you practice your rap to make sure it sounds good? Who does all of the chores around here and all of the wedding planning despite being busy with everything else so that the only thing you need to worry about is work? Most importantly, who took the time from their schedule since day one to come to as many concerts and promotions as possible to cheer you on because I know how much this means to you? I do all of this to make sure you are supported and what have you done for us recently, absolutely nothing!” By the time your rant was over you were bent over trying to catch your breath, Wonwoo just stared at you with his arms crossed, clearly unamused.

“Are you happy now?” he asked, shaking his head when you didn’t answer, “I have an early day tomorrow, I’m going to stay at the dorms tonight. We’ll talk about this later.” With that he was grabbing his things and throwing his shoes back on before leaving the apartment without another word. You could only stare at the door in shock, finally letting the argument sink in as you slowly broke down crying. He really left you for the guys, just like that? Did he really not care about you or your relationship? The more you thought about it, the harder it was to stop yourself from crying. This wasn’t your first argument with Wonwoo, and you knew it probably wouldn’t be your last, but this was the first time one of you had ever walked out during an argument. You took a few deep breaths and wiped at your eyes desperately to stop the tears, staring at the door for a bit longer to see if Wonwoo would change his mind and come back. When he didn’t, you accepted defeat and slowly dragged yourself to your shared bedroom.

Almost as if you were on autopilot, you turned your phone off and plugged it in before showering and dragging yourself into bed. You were used to falling asleep without him there, but tonight the bed felt even more empty than usual. You found yourself grabbing his pillow and curling up around it, enjoying his scent and imagining that he was there with you as you slowly drifted off. Hopefully, when you woke up this would all be like a bad dream and he would be there, or at least be willing to talk to you about it.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

To say you were hurt when you woke up alone was an understatement. Your head was pounding from crying the night before and all the negative emotions came slamming into you like a bus. With a groan, you forced yourself to sit up in bed and reached for your phone. Part of you was tempted to call into work so you could clear your head but you knew that wasn’t a logical decision. Having an argument with your fiance wasn’t usually seen as a reasonable excuse to call out, and you could honestly use the distraction. Your phone switched on after a few seconds, showing the wallpaper of you and Wonwoo on the night you got engaged, but there were no new messages aside from a few work emails. You tried not to be disappointed, remembering that Wonwoo said he had a busy day, but given what happened it felt like he was ignoring you on purpose. No ‘good morning’ no ‘I’m sorry’, or even ‘we’ll talk later’, he just went silent. Tossing your phone to the side, you shook your head and rubbed at your temples for a moment before forcing yourself out of bed. You were going to be late if you kept sitting around and you couldn’t afford that extra stress. You quickly rushed around to get ready and grab your things, checking your phone more times than you were willing to admit. Normally you prided yourself on being level headed in stressful situations, but when it came to Wonwoo all your emotions took over and made you feel like a lovesick teenager. Why couldn’t he give you some indication that things were okay? Was he that mad at you, or was he waiting for you to make the first move?”

The drive to work was extremely stressful as you found yourself unable to focus on the road, too focused on your relationship and checking your phone every time it vibrated. The only thing that snapped your focus back to the road was the honking of cars and shouting from those who rushed around you as you went too slow or stayed stopped at a green light for too long.

“Get it together Y/N,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the wheel tightly with one hand while the other moved to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your eyes closed for a moment as you waited at another red light, only to snap back open as the car behind you honked furiously. Without thinking, you slammed on the gas, seeing that the light had changed while you were lost in thought. Your car jerked before speeding forward faster than you had anticipated, causing you to panic a bit as you tried to slow down and regain control. Unfortunately, what you hadn’t noticed was the upcoming intersection, or the truck was actively turning into your lane just as you sped through it. You didn’t have enough time to react as the truck slammed into yours, hard enough to flip it. Your ears were ringing and everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as you watched the world spin around you before eventually staring up at the sky. Your whole body burned but felt numb at the same time and it felt like there was a weight pressing on your chest, causing you to gasp for breath. Multiple people had run over to you, clearly trying to see if you were okay but you were unable to hear them or even respond. All you could do was stare up at them helplessly as your vision slowly faded to black.

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

Wonwoo had not been able to focus on his work at all, the argument with you and what you said running through his mind like a broken record. He knew that you were right, but he was so overwhelmed that he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the time. He knew he would need to make it up to you, but first he had to finish what he was doing or else the fight would have been for nothing. Not to mention, he didn’t need the guys getting suspicious about what was going on between you two. He already had Jun bugging him about not going home last night and he knew your cousin would be even more on his case if he told him what happened.

Thankfully right now they were just going over a few basic steps and warmups before starting practice. Wonwoo didn’t need to focus too much as the focus was the performance unit at the moment while the others kind of did their own thing and waited. All he had to do was sit there and be quiet so that they could focus. That wasn’t possible however, as he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. He ignored it at first, assuming whoever it was would leave a message or he would just call them back later. That was a decision he would soon come to regret, watching as the door opened and their manager walked into the practice room.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said as all the members turned to him, “but I need to speak with Wonwoo and Junhui outside, the rest of you continue with practice.” The two males glanced at each other, confused, before nodding and following the manager out of the room and into the hall. Their manager glanced around for a moment before taking a deep breath, “We just received a call from the hospital about Y/N, there was a really bad car crash and she is currently receiving emergency care, since you two are her closest family we were told to inform you.” Wonwoo swore that he forgot how to breathe in that moment, tuning the other male out as soon as he heard your name and hospital. The world felt like it was closing in around him, and the only thing he could hear was his rapid breathing and the sound of his heart.

“Wonwoo…Wonwoo!” Jun shouted his name and violently shook at his shoulder to snap him out of his almost panic attack, “snap out of it, come on we have to go!” All Wonwoo could do was nod, following silently to one of the company cars since neither would be trusted to drive. Jun tried to talk to him during the ride, wanting to assure him that you would be okay and that you were strong but Wonwoo didn’t listen. His mind was flooded with the thoughts of you laying broken and alone in a hospital bed. Even worse, he couldn’t help but wonder if what happened was at least partially his fault. You were usually a very aware person, so what if you were distracted while driving to work? Were you still thinking about the argument with him and that’s what caused you to lose your focus? Perhaps if he had just stayed home and talked everything out with you, or even called you this morning then this wouldn’t have happened.

By the time the guys had gotten to the hospital, you were out of surgery and recovering in a hospital room. The doctors explained that you had hit your head pretty badly, on top of being scratched up from hitting the pavement, but thankfully they were able to stop the bleeding and prevent any long term damage. Wonwoo was relieved when he heard that, but he was still crushed to see you laying there, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to machines that did who knows what. Almost as if on autopilot, he pulled a chair to the side of your bed and sat down, taking your hand in his. He was careful with his movements, not wanting to hurt you even more than you already were. Jun finished talking with the doctor and helped with a few documents before joining you both in the room. Wonwoo heard the older sigh before feeling his hand on his shoulder. It was at that moment that he finally broke, resting his head in his free hand and trying not to get too emotional.

“This is my fault,” he muttered.

“How could it be your fault? You weren’t in the car and you weren’t the one that hit her,” Jun pointed out, to which the younger shook his head.

“You don’t understand, she was distracted because of me and if she had been paying attention she would have been able to avoid the truck.” Jun remained silent, staring down at Wonwoo as he continued venting out his thoughts, “I’ve been so stressed recently with work and having everything done before the wedding that I ended up completely ignoring my relationship. Y/N’s been trying so hard to keep us going and I couldn’t even help her. What kind of husband would I be if I can’t even be a good boyfriend? Or will I even get to be her husband now?”

“Alright enough,” Jun huffed, “you heard the doctor, she’ll be fine, and besides you know she wouldn’t leave us like that. Blaming yourself for whatever happened isn’t going to help her recover. Right now we just need to be here and support her, okay?” Wonwoo didn’t have the energy to respond, only nodding as he kept his focus on you. Jun opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Instead he pulled a chair to the other side of your bed, both males mutually deciding to keep an eye on you until they were forced to leave.

It took about four days for you to finally wake up, by this point most of your minor injuries had started to heal and the doctors had been able to remove some of your bandages. The whole time Wonwoo had not left your side, save for the one time the members dragged him out of the hospital so that he could shower and actually rest for at least a few hours. Jun came to visit nearly every day to check on you both, and usually a handful of the members would come with him. From the second they heard about your accident, they all basically swarmed your hospital room to check up on you and bring you various get well gifts. From balloons, to cards, to flowers, to stuffed animals, every day they brought you something new. It honestly looked like you had been in the hospital for months with the amount of gifts, rather than a couple of days.

It took a moment for you to be able to open your eyes, immediately shutting them again and groaning as they were assaulted with blinding white light. You took a moment to adjust before opening your eyes again, slowly glancing around to get familiar with your surroundings. Your whole body was aching and you felt like you had just woken up from a decade long coma. As your senses slowly regained you also realized an odd pressure on your hand, the warm feeling engulfed it tightly, and then you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me?” turning your head, you saw a concerned Wonwoo glancing down at you. Both of his hands were gripping yours and he looked like he was seconds from crying. Behind him, you could see Jun frantically typing on his phone before looking up at you with a relieved expression.

“Wonwoo, Jun? Where am I?” you asked, your voice rough due to how dry your throat was. Wonwoo carefully helped you sit up before helping you take a sip from the water bottle sitting at your bedside. The cool liquid brought immediate relief and you had to restrain yourself from chugging the whole bottle to not risk choking.

“Easy now, you’ve been through a lot,” he urged softly, “you’ve been asleep for a few days now.”

“What happened?” you asked, honestly struggling to remember anything. Wonwoo's expression dropped, but he quickly fixed it before you noticed.

“You were involved in a pretty bad accident on your way to work. It knocked you up pretty badly so you’ll probably be sore for a little while. We’ll talk about it when you feel better, right now you just need to focus on recovering.” You wanted to argue, but Jun had made his way over to sit at the other side of your bed, his hand reaching out to softly grip at your arm.

“He’s right, you need to rest. You owe us for giving everyone a heart attack by the way!” he teased, making you laugh a bit.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you guys,” you apologized, making your cousin shake his head while patting yours.

“It’s not your fault, we were just worried about you thats all,” he assured.

“Is that what all the gifts are for?” you asked, finally getting a chance to look around your room.

“You can mostly thank Jeonghan for that actually,” Jun mused. You guys all sat in silence for a few minutes before the man in question came practically bursting through the door. Joshua, Seungcheol, and Chan were behind him, all carrying even more gifts.

“Y/N! How are you feeling!” Jeonghan exclaimed as he rushed over, “I made my way over the second Jun told us you were awake, we were so worried!”

“I’m fine,” you assured, “I’m just tired.”

“How can you be tired?” Chan questioned, “you’ve been asleep for four days now!” Your eyes widened a bit, causing the male to cover his mouth as the older members glared at him.

“Four days? I’ve been out that long?” you exclaimed.

“Uh yeah, the doctors said it could take about a week for you to wake up,” Jun explained, “you hit your head pretty badly.” You looked down with a soft “oh” which caused the guys to tense up.

“Don’t worry about it though, all that matters now is that you’re okay. We can worry about everything else later,” Wonwoo assured, rubbing your hand softly. You nodded softly but didn't look back up at him. The members quickly changed the subject to cheer you up, telling you all the fun practice stories that you missed and doing anything they could to keep you smiling. You noticed that Wonwoo seemed a bit distant during that time, but you didn’t get a chance to comment on that as the others stole away your attention. You guys spent a few hours together, only being interrupted by a nurse or the doctor coming in to check up on how you were doing, before eventually the guys had to leave due to having an early day. They gave you one last goodbye, with Jeonghan and Joshua leaving the stuffed animals they got you on your pillow, before filing out of the room and leaving you and Wonwoo alone.

“Don’t you have to go also?” you asked, watching the door close behind Jun.

“I already spoke with management, I can make up practice once you’re recovered and back on your feet,” Wonwoo explained.

“But it must be so boring just sitting here with me,” you whined, causing him to shake his head.

“I’m not bored at all, it’s actually kind of relaxing to be away from the guys for so long,” he said with a soft laugh. The comment made you smile a bit but you still couldn’t help but worry about his well being. There was no way that sitting in that plastic chair for as long as he probably had was comfortable.

“It’s so late though, at least go home and sleep in an actual bed. There is no way sleeping hunched over in a chair is good for your neck or back,” you continued. This time Wonwoo's laugh was louder, lowering his head for a second before looking back up at you and pushing up his glasses.

“You’re the one in the hospital bed and you’re worrying about me? Don’t worry Y/N, my priority right now is making sure that you are doing okay,” he promised. You tried to argue but he wasn’t listening, going as far as to pull out his phone and pretending to take a call so you couldn’t rebuttal anymore. You laughed a bit at how childish he was acting but gave in and stopped arguing. It was starting to get late and you felt yourself getting more tired until you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Wonwoo noticed and smiled softly at you, “Go ahead and rest Y/N, you need to keep up your strength.” You shook your head as best as you could while rubbing at your eyes, causing him to shake his head a bit. “If I promise to go home and go to bed once you fall asleep, will that help?” he asked. You nodded and whined softly as you struggled to get comfortable with your remaining injuries. “Very well, once I’m sure you’re asleep I will go home and come back in the morning okay? Now go ahead and rest.” You whined again but didn’t argue as you closed your eyes.

“Goodnight Wonwoo, I love you,” you muttered, eventually letting sleep take over as you slumped against your pillow.

Wonwoo kept an eye on you until he was positive that you were asleep and wouldn’t be able to hear him. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand as he took in your injured state. You looked much better than you had when he had gotten to the hospital, but it was clear you would be in pain for quite a while. With a defeated sigh, he lifted your hand enough to press a tender kiss to your skin.

“I know that you can’t really hear me right now, and you don’t remember what happened but I always will,” he started, “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and I’ve been neglecting my job as your boyfriend and future husband. I’m sorry that I let it get this far, but I promise that I will never let it happen again. I will make it up to you and I will prove that I deserve to be your husband. I will come home more, I’ll help you out so you’re not always overworking, and I will never doubt you ever again. I promise that I will do better for you, for us, no matter what it takes.” You didn’t even move as he spoke, fast asleep and unable to process the words he was saying. Still, the promise was there, and he was more than determined to keep it. The past few days Wonwoo had a lot of time to reflect on everything, and he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure this situation never happened again. The fear and guilt he had when he thought that he may lose you was a sinking feeling that he never wanted to experience again.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Wonwoo let go of your hand and slowly stood up from his chair. His legs were stiff and almost numb from sitting in one position for so long, but he ignored that as he pushed the chair away. Careful not to disturb you, he leaned over your bed, one hand held himself up as the other moved to brush your hair out of your face. He admired your features as his fingers traced along your cheek and chin before he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. Your skin was cold compared to his, almost alarmingly so, but that didn’t stop him from letting his touch linger for as long as humanly possible. He hesitantly pulled away after a moment, running his fingers across your face one last time before standing back.

“Rest well Y/N, I love you, and I always will.”

↪ Seventeen Taglist: @woo8hao @amethyistheart @exfolitae

To be removed from my taglist please comment or message.

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rorywritesjunk · 1 year ago

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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 4

The girls refused to speak to you because of how you defended Buggy. They still thought he was rude and didn’t like him, and they didn’t understand why you’d defend him. They were also mad because not only did they have to clean the kitchen twice that night, but Miss Pins had them sort fabric scraps by color before organizing all the threads the same way over the last few weeks. The final act of punishment was organizing all the pins and needles by length and gauge.

They didn’t think it was fair.

Had you been in charge you would have dismissed them from their apprenticeships entirely.

Yes, Buggy was loud, had been rude each visit to you and Miss Pins but he was a pirate and all the shop’s customers were pirates. A lot of them were rude to you and Miss Pins, some even threatening, but he was also becoming a repeat customer and overpaid you each time, and when you brought it to the attention of Miss Pins, she let you keep the extra amount because you took on helping him.

Honestly, and you didn’t want to admit it to your boss just yet, but you liked Buggy. So far he hadn’t tried to flirt with you, act inappropriately, or threaten you. Countless others had since the day you started as an apprentice. Miss Pins was protective of her girls, having no problem pointing a gun at any pirate creeps should they make her apprentices uncomfortable. Buggy was loud, demanding, but he wasn’t a creep.

It had been a month since you last saw Buggy and you figured that you weren’t going to see him again. Why would he return to the shop after what the girls had said? You felt bad about it and wished you could have talked with him a bit more, but he took off so fast that you didn’t get a chance to.

You still had his socks that you fixed for him and even secured him an extra pair. Maybe he’d stop by to pick them up? You weren’t going to hold out a lot of hope. No doubt he would be on his ship, sailing for treasure or adventure, forgetting about the incident a month ago.

Hopefully.

The shop was closed for the evening but you were still working when you saw him again. You wanted to get extra work done before taking a few days for yourself to celebrate your birthday. The girls originally wanted to do something with you but now that they weren’t talking to you, you got to do whatever you wanted.

You were going to go to a nearby lake and feed the ducks while enjoying a packed lunch.

The pounding at the door startled you. You grabbed a broom to protect yourself as you approached it and looked through the peephole. You saw the bright red nose and immediately relaxed as you opened the door, smiling at him as he stood on the doorstep.

“We’re closed, you know.” You told him teasingly. “We’re not a clinic where you can stop by whenever you need me to fix something.”

He looked flustered as he tried to think of a response, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shop, closing the door behind him as you headed back to your work. He followed after you, looking around at the different bolts of fabric on shelves, the trays of thread, and several dresses that hung on a rack behind the counter. You took a seat and gestured to the other chair as you picked your sewing back up.

“You left your socks, you know.” You said as you passed the needle through the fabric. You were finishing up another dress for a customer, attaching the bodice and skirt together with piping along where the two pieces met. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back for them.”

Buggy sat down and crossed his arms, turning his attention to what you were doing. Your fingers were careful as you worked, your fingernails guiding along the piping to keep it in place as you sewed. He didn’t think you actually made things, just repaired them, so he watched you for a moment before responding.

“I had other socks.” He mumbled as you removed a pin and stuck it into your little pin cushion. “I… was going to come back.” He glanced up at your face, seeing the look of concentration, and looked back down at your work. “Why are you up so late?”

“Why are you at the shop late?” You countered as you stuck a pin in your mouth before repositioning the fabric. He hesitated and looked away. “Surely not for your socks, Buggy.”

“I… was out on a walk.” He replied as he clenched his jaw. “And I saw the light on and thought maybe you were being robbed.”

You took the pin out of your mouth and stuck it back through the layers of fabric. “And you knocked so kindly.”

“I don’t have-”

He stopped himself and took a deep breath, trying not to overreact. You were just teasing him, trying to rile him up, but there was no malice in your voice. He looked back at you and saw you were smiling at him and his heart skipped a beat and his face was warm. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“I just wanted to stop by and… say hi. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well, hello and good evening then.” You chuckled. “What would you have done if Miss Pins answered the door with her shotgun?”

“I’m not scared of her!” Buggy shot back. You looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Good evening, boss.”

Buggy spun around, eyes wide, but you laughed. There was no one there. Oh, you were cruel. He turned back around and glared at you. You were still laughing as you set your sewing down. Buggy huffed and looked away from you with a glare on his face.

“Sorry, sorry.” You giggled as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “As for your question about why I’m up so late… My birthday is in two days so I want to get as much work done as possible so I can relax.”

“Oh, birthday?” He repeated. Girls liked getting gifts. Should he get you a gift? Why would he get you one? He looked back at you as you picked your sewing back up now that you had calmed down from laughing. What kind of gift would he get you if he was to get you something? He was a pirate, he could go find some treasure and give half to you, but would that be weird? Why was he even considering that?

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I’m going to go feed and watch the ducks and have lunch.”

“Ducks?” Buggy laughed. Ducks were not exciting, but if you liked them, he would take you all around to show you all the ducks in the world if you wanted. “Just duck watching, that’s it?”

“Yea.” You frowned when he laughed. It wasn’t really anything to laugh about. You didn’t need to do something exciting to enjoy yourself, just sitting and taking it easy was enough. “It’s something I like to do, Buggy.”

“It’s your birthday, though! You should be going out and doing something fun!” He said. “Drinking, having a party, something like that! Go on a raid or something!”

“I’m not a pirate, Buggy.” You reminded him as you looked back at your sewing. “I’d rather do something quiet.”

He leaned back in his seat and watched you with a frown. You lived in a town frequented by pirates, you had to be used to what they got up to, so why would you want to do something as boring as watching ducks? Maybe you were just never given the opportunity to do something fun. Buggy would change that.

“How about we-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence because he saw you look up, eyes widening at something behind him. He wasn’t going to fall for that again so he rolled his eyes. “The old hag’s not there, so don’t try and trick me again.”

THWACK

“Get the hell out of my shop!” Miss Pins barked as she raised the broom up again. “Do you realize how late it is?!”

Buggy fell out of the chair and dodged the blows from her broom. He almost made it to the door before she threw it at his feet, tripping him up as he scrambled. She stormed over to him and grabbed the door, pulling it open before pointing out.

“It’s too late for you to be coming around!” She snapped as he hurried out the door, but not before he looked back at you for a split second. You were still in your chair, looking rather amused by the whole exchange. At least you weren’t frowning at him anymore. Maybe he could sneak back around for your birthday. He just needed to find out where the ducks would be.

Miss Pins slammed the door behind him before rounding on you. “Stop encouraging him!”

“I haven’t done anything!” You exclaimed. “I’m just being nice to him!”

“That’s encouraging him! I don’t need another lovesick pirate after you, Sunny! He’s as bad as the last one!” Miss Pins snapped. “I can’t keep chasing these pirates off!”

“He’s not like the last one!” You shot back. “And he’s not lovesick, he just needs a friend, Miss Pins. It’s not like he’s asking me to marry him every time he sees me!”

Your boss glared at you as she locked the door and picked up the broom. The last one wasn’t like that until the fifth visit, where he had demanded you to marry him while you were fixing his coat. You were only 19, the man was almost ten years your senior and if your boss hadn’t been there, who knows where you would have ended up. She wasn’t going to lose you then to that man and she wasn’t about to lose you to some nobody pirate.

“He’s not welcome here anymore.” Miss Pins told you. “And next time you see him you tell him that.”

She left after that, returning upstairs without another word, leaving you alone to think about what she said.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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mcytblraufest · 1 year ago

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Holiday Exchange: General Rules and FAQ

TIMELINE: Sign-ups open, Discord Opens: 18 October Sign-ups close, everyone must have joined the Discord: 15 November Assignments sent out: 23 November - 26 November Check-in: 9 December - 10 December Posting Week: Sunday 24th December through Monday 1 January.

RULES FOR PARTICIPATING: - Must join our Discord for communication - Must tag your recipient in the eventual post - Must tag this blog in your post so we can keep track of gifts - DM a mod ASAP if you don’t think you’ll get your gift out on time or at all, or you want to withdraw - Must check in at the half-way mark to make sure everything is on-track. -Must request and offer to create around a minimum of three characters. -Any under-18 persons found requesting or offering NSFW content will be banned from this and all future iterations of the exchange. -Because of Tumblr, Ao3 and Discord TOS, you must be 13 to participate.

RULES FOR CREATING: - Make a good-faith effort to respect creator boundaries - Your gift doesn’t have to contain only requested characters, but it does have to centre on at least one requested character. - Any shipping must be kept to PG-13 levels or below unless your recipient specifically requested NSFW. Any non-requested NSFW is grounds for a ban from this and all future iterations of the exchange. -Respect your giftee's DNW. Any gift found to be in violation of a reasonable DNW is grounds for a ban from future iterations of the exchange. - Dark or Violent themes must be tagged appropriately -No AI-created content.

DISCORD LINK - Discord: [here]

CREATING RESOURCES: - How to add your fic to an Ao3 Collection. [link] - The Ao3 Collection. [link] - How to image-describe your art. [link1] [link2]

MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS: - Art (1 drawing, created to a standard you would normally post as “finished”) - Writing (1k+ words) - Playlist (2 hour-long playlists) - Moodboard (2 boards, at least 9 elements each, for a total of at minimum 18 elements between both boards. Speak to mods if that really doesn't work for your designs) - Web Weaving (1 board of at least 10 elements)

MISC: - Tag this blog as well, so we can reblog you! - You will not necessarily be matched with someone who matches your ‘willing to create about’ exactly. The goal is to have multiple matches, but in cases of more obscure requests you might be matched with someone who only has one commonality between your ‘willing to create’ and their wish list. In that case at least you know what to make your gift around pretty quickly. :D - Please send asks if you need information. If it is something you do not feel comfortable sending in an ask, you can message the head mod at @antimony-medusa - If you ask us a question about something that has been already outlined in this post we will not answer!

FAQ:

-I changed my mind about my gift list, I want to add something, what do I do? You can re-do your entry and we will delete the earlier version of any duplicate entries, or you send us an ask (off anon if you want an answer back) to change something (only minor changes using this method, please).

-Is there an Ao3 collection? I want to add my fic to it. There will be! It will be released once assignments are sent out.

-I added my fic to the Ao3 collection, but I can’t see it? The collection is currently set to ‘unrevealed’, so works can be added but won’t be visible before reveal day, so it’s all a surprise.

-I need to contact my recipient, but they have anon off! What do I do? Talk to us, we’ll contact them for you.

- I didn’t save my assignment message and now I’ve forgotten my assignment, what now? Get in contact with us, we’ll resend it.

-I can’t finish my gift by the deadline, what do I do? You have two options. Option one is to consider if you can still finish it by a couple days or a week or so later, and ask the mods if you can get an extension. We will check with your recipient to see if it’s okay to extend your deadline. Option two is to drop entirely, in which case you tell a mod, and we will assign your gift to a pinch-hitter so your recipient still gets something. In both cases, the important thing is that you get in contact with a mod ( @antimony-medusa is head mod) as soon as possible to figure out a plan.

-If I want to make more than one gift, can I? You can make as many gifts as you'd like! If you really enjoy making gifts, we suggest signing up as a Pinch Hitter in the discord

-I don't celebrate Christmas, can I sign up? This exchange welcomes all holidays (even a complete lack of holidays), and people will have an opportunity to opt in to what events they want represented in their gift, whether that's real-world holidays, imaginary minecraft events, or no holidays at all.

-I'm only a fan of a small server, can I sign up? You are very welcome to sign up even if your fandom doesn't have the most active tag, this is a broad MCYT exchange. We will do our best to match you with someone else who also likes your block people. If your fandom has less than a thousand fics on the archive, we recommend that you try and recruit friends into the exchange too, so you know that there are people who like the same characters as you in the matching pool. We can't absolutely promise to match on smaller characters, but we have run this exchange twice and we haven't had anyone be entirely unmatchable yet, so fingers crossed that continues.

-Is RPF allowed? While MCYT is in a fuzzy space while we're often close to RPF and many of our older works are still tagged with Video Blogging RPF, this is a character-focused exchange. You will not be able to request or offer direct RPF for this exchange.

-Is shipping allowed? Yes. For the comfort of the greatest number of participants, we ask that participants make a good-faith effort to ensure that any shipping is boundary-respecting, but because there is no broad fandom-wide consensus about how that is defined in specific cases (whether it's okay to write beeduo as /r or /p is an obvious case) or between specific fandoms (lifesteal approach to shipping is different from HBG is different from DSMP), the mods will not be policing any specific understanding of boundaries across the event. The event will operate on Don't Like Don't Read, in that everyone will have the chance to opt in for themselves as to if they are comfortable with shipping or NSFW for each specific character they want to work with, and mods will match based on that.

-Is NSFW allowed? Yes, NSFW is permitted as long as it respects creator boundaries, and both sides of the gift exchange are 18+. People will only be matched to others who specifically requested NSFW work. For the comfort of the greatest number of people in the exchange and the mod team, nothing that would warrant the tags Underage, Rape/Noncon, Dubcon, Adult/Minor, or Incest is permitted.

-My person requested characters I don't want to write, and one of them is a ship I don't like. What do I do? You are only expected to create a gift for the characters you matched on. If you offered to create for Grian (shipping allowed), Good times with Scar (shipping allowed) and Docm77 (only gen), and you matched to someone requesting Grian (shipping allowed), Docm77 (shipping allowed) and Keralis (only gen), you are only expected to make a gift with the characters and relationships you matched on, in this case, Grian. If you are entirely uncomfortable with your match, you can tell a mod, and we can take it off your hands and get it pinch-hit. You will still receive a gift.

-If noncon isn't permitted, is non-consentual touching (platonic) allowed? As technically a punch in the face counts as non-consensual touching, and pvp is a classic part of most MCYT canons, we find banning all nonconsensual contact to be unnecessarily restrictive. As long as nonconsensual contact is not sexual in nature, it is permitted, however, it must be tagged for adequately along with any other potentially triggering content.

-Do you allow dark or violent content? Yes. The lore of many mcyt servers includes death games, abuse, cannibalism, murder-for-hire, and other dark or violent themes. However, all potentially triggering content must be tagged for so readers and giftees can make an informed choice to get infolved or not. We would recommend that you not include particularly dark topics unless requested to by your giftee.

-What is a Pinch Hitter? A pinch hitter is a person who saves the day and steps in when the original creator is unable to deliver their work for whatever reason, making a new work on an accelerated timeline. You can sign up to be a Pinch Hitter in the discord.

-What is a DNW? All participants will have the opportunity to fill out a DNW, which stands for Do Not Want. This is anything that has the potential to ruin a gift for you. DNWs must be phrased politely, (so no "No foster aus because they suck and you suck if you like them"), and they must be reasonable, (so no attempting to box someone into a specific gift, i.e. "DNW anything that isn't a space au where Tommy is a dinosaur-hybrid and Tubbo is a ghost bee and they rampage through the living ship named Las Nevadas"), but they can be as petty (disliking specific art styles) or as broad-reaching (no modern aus, no specific ships, no crossovers with specific servers) as you like. Deliberately breaking someone's DNW is grounds for a ban from the exchange.

-When do I have to join the discord? You have the option to join the dicord and hang out as soon as signup starts on October 18, and you must join the discord so we can communicate with you by November 15. Anyone not in the discord once we start matching will have their sign-ups deleted.

-Is the discord a social server? Can I expect game nights? The discord is primarily an event server, we are not going to be hosting events. We will have a directory of other social servers, if you want to take a conversation started in the discord into a more convivial space.

-What's a check-in and how do they work? Check-ins are there to make sure everyone is on track to finish their piece in time, and to communicate any issues with the mods! If you know that you won’t be able to check in on a specific date (lack of internet, etc), please contact the mods in advance.

-What if I need to drop out? It is your responsibility to communicate with us if you need to drop out of the event for any reason, and we do need that communication. We know that life is no respecter of fic and art deadlines, so no hard feelings if something happens. However, we would hate for anyone to end up having no gift, so please think about this if you are thinking of dropping out close to reveals. Please inform us in advance if you must drop out or think you will not be able to complete your gift on time. Dropping out after the last check-in without informing the mods will result in not being permitted to take part in further events run by this mod team.

I have a question not answered here? Send us an ask on tumblr, contact @antimony-medusa on tumblr or discord!

#mcyt #mcytblr #gift exchange #fandom gift exchange #faq #holiday exchange 2023

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afreakingdork · 2 months ago

Text

Writing Request: OC x Raph Pampering ❤️‍🩹

Next up we got @eeveetrevelyan who's heart went out to Weak Spot Raph, especially after the fiasco of chapters 38-40. They wanted their OC, Theresa to have a little protective sess with him and get his number!

Takes place in the Weak Spot universe after the events of chapter 40.

Since the poll closes in the AM, I'm about to close up shop seeing as I'll have sleep until then, but please, keep sharing and voting Hassan/Mikey in this poll. Tell all your friends! Fandom or not!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

A cute PG protecc and meet below:

“Can I get the pastrami?” Raph stared at the menu board that was almost at this eye level.

“We’re out.”

He openly hummed. “Turkey pesto?”

“We have chicken.”

Raph looked down at the petite cashier. “Should I… you know? Go… somewhere else or…?”

She stared back evenly. “We welcome mutants, we’re just out of stock right now. Manager went to get emergency stuff from wholesale. Something about not paying on time.”

“Yikes.” He grimaced.

“I better get a paycheck.” She responded dryly. “I’m supposed to be pretending nothing is up.”

“What do you got with the chicken?” He pointed.

She looked a little like her soul left her body. “Just chicken.”

He gaped. “No… bread…?”

She shook her head.

“Salad?”

“Just chicken.” She pleaded to him with her eyes.

“Just chicken.” He repeated with the same exhausted tenor.

Today was not his day.

This was not his week.

The month was something he easily wrote off.

He might as well excavate the year from existence.

Family. “I’ll take the chicken. Is there…?”

“No sauce.”

“Just chicken.” He decided and still paid an exorbitant price.

She better be getting that paycheck, he thought as he meandered toward the empty dining room. He minded his tail as he slipped between seats that were fall too small to fit his frame. They would snap like twigs if he tried so he didn’t. He stood still and in stasis as he tried to piece his life together.

Late night patrol with the team.

Leo pulling his usual stunts.

Obsessed and exhausted, his little brother was long past burnt out. He was somewhere charred to a crisp and still roasted. He refused to turn his own burner off and had long melted into the pan. Steel wool and acid wouldn’t scrape the Leo residuals off and the worst of it was Raph had to watch it all happen.

If he tried to even approach the subject, Leo either ran or shut him down with pulled rank.

He didn’t understand it.

They were quickly becoming the villain’s Leo so detested.

Or at least the one villain.

The singular villain that was the only one to get under his brother’s skin.

Raph still wasn’t sure how he not only survived a scrape with Donatello let alone doing so after having kidnapped his partner. That whole day at the farmer’s market still haunted Raph and he very much wanted to put it behind him.

They all did in one form or another, except Leo.

Leo was still vigilant.

Leo ran laps around the lair still convinced it was somehow bugged and compromised. He kept them all up and he simply portaled away when anyone tried to catch him. He ripped food stuffs out of their hands to analyze them and bounced of veritable walls whenever they tried to walk through more than two rooms in a row.

If Raph had to hear his brother one more time say something about taking bearings he was going to scream.

So, he got out.

He left just as Mikey had a couple days ago.

The youngest texted and Raph wished he had that kind of freedom.

No, someone had to watch Leo.

Someone had to keep dad company.

He was exhausted.

Raph wilted right there and out of his nostrils came a decompressing whistle. With Leo’s nightly raid, he probably hadn’t slept more than a few hours in a week and it was wearing on him. He didn’t have the same stamina as he used to and years of battering his body certainly didn’t help.

Raph scratched the back of his head.

Just chicken sure was taking while.

He peeked over his shoulder to see how it was going and saw a neat looking to-go box sitting right there on the counter.

He hadn’t ordered it that way.

The cashier wouldn’t look at him.

He was back to wondering if this place was actually anti-mutant and scolded himself for fall for the girl’s lines.

Was he that tired?

He turned with the intention of getting the box and his tail twitched out.

He winced before the destruction came.

In a single swipe, he knocked one lightweight chair over and it dominoed into the others. One by one the spindly tables caught and clattered to the ground in a way that was thunderous in the small café. Raph was stuck, still, in the epicenter of the carnage and watched as the cashier looked at owlishly.

“What did you do!?” She hissed.

There it was.

He wasn’t even surprised.

He guessed in a way he had been waiting.

“I did what you asked! You get in! You get out!! What the fuck!?”

“Me, yeah.” Raph bit sarcasm.

He moved forward to grab his box and leave.

There was no point in trying to set everything right.

Just like Leo, it was a lost cause.

His hand had almost touched the cardboard when she snatched it from him.

“You know what, you monster?!” She held it high.

He watched on with dying light in his eyes.

In a overhand toss, she threw the box on the floor.

He watched with a slow rotation as the chicken inside slid out onto the floor and immediately stop as it was so dry it created friction.

“Eat it like you deserve, mutie.”

“Very professional. Spectacular service.” Raph clicked his tongue and went to leave.

There was some kind of board to report this too.

This seemed egregious enough to bother.

He had to find the digits without Leo freaking out.

He’d probably think this was somehow Donatello’s fault too.

“You eat it!!”

Raph blinked and turned to find a woman he hadn’t realized was there scoop the chicken puck right off the floor.

She then threw it in the general direction of the employee where it missed so completely that said girl didn't even flinch.

It soared behind the counter and everyone watched it plop to the ground.

Raph felt a hand on his and turned to find the vigilante woman tugging him. "Let's go!"

He sort of managed an agreement as he was tugged straight outside. "Uh!"

"Just a bit more...!" She seemed to have a destination in mind so Raph stumbled after her.

Behind him there was a scream that sounded a little too much it belonged the shop girl. "Ma'am...?"

"It's alright, sweetie! Just around here."

She turned a corner and made sure he was behind it before she peeked back out.

He stood blinking at the curvy powerhouse with poor aim.

"Coast is clear!" She turned to him with a jovial smile.

"From what exactly...?" He couldn't help but ask.

"This!" She gestured for him to hold his hand out.

He did so.

She deposited a small wad of bills into his hand.

"O-oh!" He quacked. "I'm sorry. I can't accept this. These things happen, I just-"

"It's from her tip jar!"

"What?" The sound popped right out of him.

"A refund." She curled his fingers over the money and patted them. "You deserve that much."

"Uh lady, er, ma'am, that's..."

"Oh." She scolded him with a little wriggle of her body.

He cracked a smile.

"It's like nine dollars tops. How much did you pay?"

"Twenty-three..."

"Sweetie."

"Plus tip."

"Sweetie, no. That's it. I know a good place. Come on!" She caught his closed fist and tried to lead him.

"Ma'am!" He easily held steady.

She turned on him. "How old are you?"

"36."

"No more of that ma'am stuff then." She gently tapped him.

He got her insinuation and nodded.

"I'm taking you to lunch. What were you trying to get? Was that chicken? It didn't feel like it. I can't believe her."

Raph took a testing step forward and she started walking on her own.

He smiled as he followed and she continued on. "People like her give humans a bad name! We aren't all like that. No, sir! She's young. Impressionable! Someone, the owner maybe, filled her head with that. Can't have that. I'm going to make up for it."

It was nice in a way.

He still felt like he was taking advantage of her kindness, but when the was the last time someone doted on him.

Even Mikey had been distant lately.

The stress of the lair had been too much.

Work had been busy and a lot of kids in this generation weren't as eager to learn.

The parent's complained of their work ethic even though Raph tried his hardest to make martial arts interesting.

It was nice.

Nice to be seen.

Nice to be taken care of in this small way.

A kindness.

"Oh, what am I saying!?" She turned to him while still walking. "Theresa, by the way! I can't believe I forgot introductions! Here I am kidnapping you and you don't even have my name."

"Raph, or Raphael, but really Raph."

"A long one." Her eyes crinkled.

She had him. "Raph." He spoke sternly.

"Raph. Nice to meet you." She held her hand out.

She squeezed him good for the shake.

He appreciated that and together they veered a few streets while she went on about mutants. She clearly had great intentions in mind, but she saw how she could be a little pushy. It seemed she had her fill of rude people with her profession. Since she worked at a Dentist's office, which already wasn't folks favorite destination, she had seen her fair share of nasty patrons.

She would have loved to change them through kindness, but being on the nicer side of things was getting harder.

Raph couldn't sympathize more and found himself skirting the line in talking about his family life. He geared it more general, trying to talk about how his bulky size made him a burden and found it was a sort of simile for how he felt in the family. He represented this huge presence in the lair and even after all these years he was still taken for granted. Ever since he had been told he was no longer leader, he was forced to take all the care he shouldered and instead make himself small.

Theresa watched on with honeyed eyes as they got in line at a different cafe. An eclectic bunch were sitting at the tables, including a cool looking lizard mutant. Everyone around them chatted genially and Raph found he could relax into his conversation with Theresa. The fine lines around her eyes spoke to her good nature and he found himself trending more toward that attitude.

He couldn't remember the last time he had really let loose.

"Chicken?" She pointed at the menu.

"Not a chance. Pastrami." He jumped at the menu option.

"We've got that in mini, regular, large, and maximum."

Raph lit up at the final choice that, for once, looked like a meal that would fit his hands, but he was on someone's dime.

He subtracted the nine crumpled bills from his old total and that left him at a regular. "The second size, please."

"For me." Theresa cut in. "I'll get the same and a maximum for him."

"Theresa." He loomed over her.

She wasn't the slightest bit perturbed by his size. "Wait until you see the seating area."

it seemed like the stage moved around him and he was spoiled for choice.

There were chairs for the tiniest of butts, all the way to ones that dwarfed even him. He all but danced in their direction and felt his tail smack something. Just as before he closed his eyes before the ensuing crash, but all that happened was the people continued to chat around him.

Raph cracked his eyes open to find nothing had fallen.

The chairs were both of decent quality, but also adequate heft.

Even the tables looked like they'd survive a flood through the New York streets and Raph almost sobbed as he plopped down in a chair that was just right. It even had a slot he could tuck his tail through and there was something so comforting about just having place that he did allow a few shiny pricks to dot the edges of his eyes.

"You are breaking my heart..." Theresa mooned.

"Sorry, sorry..." He sniffled down at her and found she was holding out a tissue from a portable pack. "Oh man, you are spoiling me."

"Seems like no one else has. That bugs me."

He chuckled and patted his cheeks dry. "It's not biggie. I'm the big brother in my family. We had it rough and I did what I could."

"And since then?" Theresa tilted her head.

"Since?" He looked at her earnestly.

"You've made time for yourself since?"

He blinked.

She stared back.

The food arrived.

Neither looked.

Both thanked the employee.

"I know we just met. I don't want to be intrude, but... you do take time for yourself now, don't you? Or are you still...?"

"I mean they need me. Especially Leo, he-" Raph cut himself off. "No. That's not for me to talk about."

He turned down into his sandwich and saw how it was just his size.

He took his time in getting it into his hands.

He relished how the bread crunched, but had soft give.

There was a mountain of meat inside.

He could, for once, easily check off his daily intake of protein.

He bit into it and positively melted.

It just a few chews all his worries had melted away.

"Pretty good!" Theresa chirped a slight contrast.

Raph laughed. "Pretty good! This is amazing!"

She giggled.

Another carefree note that sweetly coaxed him.

It was unlike Mikey's detachment.

Where the littlest disassociated in his supposed freedom, the woman sat across from it oozed it naturally.

She was the definition of airy.

She was a warm summer's breeze.

A soothing brush to clear out stale air.

"I'm sorry for prying." She confessed from behind a napkin.

"No, you didn't." He shook his head.

"I did force you to eat."

"I needed to." His lips sat in a lazy smile. "It feels good. Talking to you. You letting it go. You minded me. It's all... nice. Just nice. Really nice."

She grinned. "We could do it again."

"Huh?" He had his jaw unhinged to take another bite.

"Get lunch. Again, no judging, but you really needed this lunch break. Let's do it again. I know I could!"

"Did it... help you?"

She hummed as she juggled the thought. "Maybe not how you would think. It's nice to just talk to another decent person!"

"I feel like I haven't said much..."

"I don't know. There's a lot you didn't say."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled down at her plate and those crow's feet tickled her eyes. "You took the street side when we walked. You got the door for me when we walked in. You tried to get the smaller size since I was paying. You're clearly protecting your family and I still don't know how you were just going to walk out of that other place empty handed."

"It wasn't worth it."

"It should be."

His lips parted.

She looked right at him and he felt a little jarred by the intensity. "You should be."

He wouldn't cry.

He cried over smaller things.

Like how tiny baby ducks in the park were.

When a two people fought in a movie and made up.

The moment he bit into a perfectly warm pastry.

No, for her he felt something else.

He didn't have a name for it yet, but he wanted to find out.

He allowed himself to.

"Wanna exchange numbers?" Raph was already going for his phone.

"Sure!" She went for her own and started on about her work schedule and how they could figure something out.

Raph was sure they would.

#me #fanficton #my fanfiction #rottmnt #fanfiction #writing request #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rally until the tally #rottmnt raphael #rise raphael #rottmnt raph #rise raph #raph x oc #raphael hamato #tmnt x oc #weakspotfic

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 years ago

Text

Hitched Before the Pit

Masterlist

Summary: It started when the djinn made Dean realize he was in love with you and ends with you holding your dead husband in your arms.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: talk of suicide, blood, marriage, Dean dies (obviously)

Author’s Note: I’m pretty sure weddings in Vegas don’t actually work like this, I’m just using the knowledge I gained from watching Friends.

“Marry me” was the first thing Dean said to you when he woke up from the djinn dream. The words surprised you but you chalked it up to him being under the djinn’s spell and ignored it. You had been casually dating Dean for almost two months at that point, but you knew he didn’t actually want to marry you. Well, you figured he didn’t.

In Dean’s “perfect world,” you were his wife, but he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He felt embarrassed about the whole situation, really. You two weren’t even ‘exclusive’ and he had proposed to you? He was glad you didn’t bring it up after; but, at the same time, he wished you’d say something, anything about what he said.

What shocked him most was that he actually meant it. He had begun to realize he was ridiculously, completely in love with you. He didn’t know how it happened; how you two went from casual hunter acquaintances, to close friends, then to this. All over the course of two short years.

Then he sold his soul. He was going to die in one year and there was nothing you could do to stop it. So, why let yourself continue to have feelings for him if you knew he was leaving? You decided it was for the best to slowly, but surely, cut him out of your life. That way when he did die, losing him wouldn’t destroy you.

But that didn’t work, at all. The more you tried to stop thinking about Dean, the more you realized how much he really meant to you. How much you loved him. Wow, you were mad at yourself! How could you let it get this far? How could you get so crazy about a man that was dying in nine months!?

Meanwhile, Dean had come to the conclusion that he was, in fact, in love with you, but you wanted to keep things casual. So, he kept his mouth shut and didn't plan on saying those three words anytime soon. But he took every opportunity to make you feel that you were important to him; a lingering touch, a forehead kiss, or even letting you drive his Baby. (When he first offered you genuinely thought there was something wrong with him, but when he insisted you realized what was really happening.)

Now it was six months. Six months and Dean would be gone, dead. And the two of you were still crazy in love with each other, neither one wanting to admit it. But then it hit you - you knew Dean loved you (well you suspected it at least) but what if he didn’t realize how much you cared about him? What if he was under the impression that you truly wanted to keep things casual?

“Dean?” You mumbled. You were laying on his chest, his arm resting on your shoulders as you both were in bed for the night.

“Mhm?” He mumbled back.

“I love you,” You told him. He didn’t answer, he stayed completely silent.

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

You sat up a little so you could look into his eyes; “I love you,” you repeated. He sat up fully, resting you on his lap.

“Seriously? Really?” He seemed absolutely shocked as a smile found its way onto his full lips.

“Yeah,” You whispered.

“Oh my god,” He kissed you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He suddenly pulled away when he realized he hadn’t said it back. He looked into your eyes and put a warm palm to your cheek, “I love you.”

You felt like a schoolgirl with how happy those three little words made you. You couldn’t help the ridiculous smile now on your face as you kissed him again.

“Where are we?” You yawned. You had drifted off while Dean was driving.

“About two hours from Vegas,” He replied.

“I still can’t believe you actually found a case that takes us to Vegas,” You shook your head with a laugh.

“Obviously vampires gamble too,” Dean smirked. “Besides, I’ve got four months left, why not take some time to party in Vegas!”

You tensed up at the words; four months. Four months and Dean was gone, you hated thinking about it. You scooted closer to him and leaned on his shoulder.

“Yeah, guess so,” You said lowly. You took hold of his right arm and moved it over your shoulders. “I love you, Dean, so much.”

“I love you too, so much,” He kissed the top of your head and somehow pulled you even closer.

“That was awesome,” Dean tossed his machete on the table back at the motel.

“Dean! That’s where we’re gonna eat!” You groaned, the table now splattered with vampire blood.

“Let’s get married,” He turned around to look at you.

“What?”

“There’s a little chapel within walking distance from here. I’ve got four months left, and I want to spend those four months being married to you.”

“Seriously!?” You furrowed your brows.

“Yeah!” He shrugged with a huge smile. There was a short silence as you looked at him and thought about what he was saying. “You know what, never mind. I’m sorry, forget it.” He turned back around.

“No, no, no,” You gripped his hand and turned him again so he was facing you. “I mean- yes! Yeah, I wanna marry you, Dean!” You smiled up at him. “Let’s get married!”

“Okay,” He held your face and kissed you. “Let’s go!”

“Wait, if we’re doing this, I wanna do it right! Sam and Bobby can be here by morning, I can get a dress tonight, and we’ll sleep in separate rooms.”

“Seriously?” He confirmed with a huge smile. “You- You really wanna do this?”

“Mhm,” You hummed, kissing him again. “See you tomorrow, fiancé,” You smiled, grabbed your duffle off the bed, and went to book a separate room.

“Okay, we’re gonna go in and act super wasted so they want to get us in and out quickly,” Dean told Bobby and Sam, his back facing you so he hadn’t seen you in your dress yet.

“What?” Sam laughed a little.

“Sammy, I’m wanted for murder! We can’t have these people asking questions, we just want to get legally married and get out!” Dean reasoned.

“Okay, well, good luck man,” Sam patted his shoulder.

“Here goes everything,” He smiled and turned around. “Good Lord, you’re gorgeous!” He beamed. You were smiling like crazy as the two of you walked to the door of the chapel. He opened the door for you and you both dramatically stumbled in.

“I wanna marry this man,” You shouted, intentionally slurring your words. “Woo!”

“One marriage license, please,” Dean exclaimed, slamming both your real IDs on the front desk.

“Okay, it’s one hundred dollars a service,” The woman behind the desk said. Dean took the cash out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Okay, just right through those doors.”

“Dean, can I talk to you for a quick minute?” You asked quietly, he could still hear the quiver in your voice. “Please?”

“Yeah, hun, of course,” He replied and left the room with you. “What’s up?”

“I know time is running out, and we can’t afford to waste even a second, but I- I just need to tell you that-” Your voice broke and tears began to fill your eyes as you continued. “That I love you, and if this doesn’t work I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get you back.”

“Hey, this is gonna work, okay?” He reassured you. Neither of you believed him, though. You both knew - Dean would be gone by morning. Gone forever.

You smiled sadly up at him and let the tears fall. “I love you, so much, Dean.”

“I love you so much, y/n,” He smiled back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him.

“How you doing over there, kiddo?” Bobby asked. You were in the passenger seat of his car, following the Impala to hunt Lilith. (Dean wanted some alone time with Sam, which you completely understood.) You had zoned out almost completely, lost in your thoughts because you knew you’d be losing Dean in just a few hours.

“I don’t think I can do this without him, Bobby,” You whispered.

“Well, you don’t have to keep hunting; Dean would understand if you wanted to quit the job.”

“No, I mean…” You sighed, tears continuing to slip down your cheeks. “This, any of this! I can’t imagine living life without Dean.”

“Oh,” Bobby furrowed his brows with concern. “Look, I know we've only known each other a couple of years, but I’m basically your father-in-law. If we do lose Dean, which is still an if, why don't you stay with me for as long as you need? I know what it's like to lose the love of your life, believe me, I know all too well. But Dean would be furious if he somehow climbs out of hell to find out you offed yourself.”

You laughed a little at his wording, “Yeah, I guess he would be.” You wiped away the tears, but more quickly followed anyway. “And if it’s really okay with you, I would like to stay at your place… I don’t really have anyone else to go to.”

“Of course it's okay with me! We’re family, y/n.”

“Midnight,” You whispered, looking down at Bobby’s pocket watch. You then looked up at him as tears clouded your eyes. “It’s midnight.”

You were both watching the house and heard Dean’s screams when the Hell Hounds tore into him. A sob escaped your lips before you covered your mouth with your hand. The two of you waited for a moment before a bright light erupted from the house. Another minute later, you both ran toward the house since the demons all seemed to be gone.

There he was. Bloody, torn apart, dead on the floor. Your Dean; your sweet, loving Dean. You froze when you saw him, completely shutting down as you stood there. Dean was gone, he was actually gone. Slowly, but surely, you made your way to your husband’s lifeless body. Sam was holding onto him and he looked up at you; both of you unable to see clearly, due to the flow of tears. You sat down and Sam let you hold him; taking him into your arms you let out a sob.

“Dean!” You screamed out in pain, unable to keep it in. You pulled him into your chest and rocked back and forth a little, letting out sobs as you clung to him. You kissed his forehead and cheeks repeatedly as the realization really sank in; your husband was dead.

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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sixhours · 9 months ago

Text

Meteor

She remembers the space he’d carved around himself, and the moment she realized the distance was too great to cross.

Rating: PG Word count: 1k

Notes: X-Files revival era fic.

Originally posted at ao3 01/19/2016

~*~

She makes her way up the long drive, the old farmhouse looming like a specter from her past. There are no lights in the windows, just a cold, hulking shadow against a darkening sky; an apt metaphor if she thinks about it too much, which she won’t.

“Where are you, Mulder?” Scully whispers to herself. His car is parked next to the porch. It’s evening, too early for sleep.

The air is damp as she leaves the warmth of the car, carrying a folder of papers. Spring has turned the ground to mud beneath her feet, and she, in her most expensive pair of heels, frowns. Her good boots are at the bottom of a box at the back of her closet along with the rest of the things she never unpacked.

The porch creaks in the same places, the screen door still protests on its hinge. She knocks once before trying the handle, finding it open.

“Mulder?”

The house is dusty and silent. She curses under her breath, gooseflesh rising along the back of her neck, wishing she had her holster. Three months on the job after so long away and she’s still not used to carrying.

She’s debating whether to check upstairs or leave the file on the kitchen table when a voice calls her name from outside.

“Scully?”

She steps onto the porch, squinting into the darkness. “Mulder? Is that you?”

“I’m out back,” he calls. “Watch your step.”

She turns on her phone’s flashlight and makes her way to the back yard. A shadow sits on the frame of the old pickup they haven’t used in years.

“I’d have left the porch light on if I’d known you were coming,” it says.

She points the phone in that direction, eliciting a wince from her partner as the beam hits his eyes.

“Ow, Scully.”

“Sorry,” she mutters, shutting off the light. “What are you doing out here, Mulder?”

There’s the distinct sound of liquid sloshing, the kiss of a bottle at his lips.

“Just sittin’ and thinkin’.”

“In the dark? It’s chilly,” she says, rubbing her shoulders for emphasis.

His face resolves as her eyes slowly adjust. He’s sitting on the tailgate, legs dangling off the end, a beer nestled between his thighs.

“I thought you’d be working.”

“Guy can’t take a break once in a while?”

She smirks. “Who are you and what have you done with my partner?”

“Hah-hah, funny. Have a seat, Scully.”

She does after a pause, easing herself onto the tailgate to join him.

“This’ll warm you up,” he says, offering her a beer.

“How many of these have you had?” she asks, accepting the bottle with a raised eyebrow.

“Just the one, doc. Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s not that kind of party.”

The cap twists off; the taste of malt fizzes on her tongue, goes down smooth.

“I take it you’re here for business and not pleasure,” he says, nodding to the folder in her lap.

“Mm. It’s the autopsy results for Lisa Baylor. Scrapings from her fingernails revealed traces of skin; they’re processing the DNA and I asked the lab to run it through NICS. We’ll have the full results in the morning, but I thought you’d want to get an early start.”

“You ever heard of email, Scully?”

“You mean the thing that keeps you tethered to your computer at all hours? Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” she mutters.

He offers a wry smile. “You didn’t have to drive all the way out here for that.”

“Maybe I wanted to talk about the case in person.”

His voice grows soft. “You don’t need an excuse to visit, you know. You always have a place here.”

“I wasn’t looking for an excuse.”

“Checking up on me, huh?”

“Mulder,” she sighs. “Don’t start.”

A cricket chirps in the grass at their feet, filling the stillness that hovers like a black mist. She remembers the space he’d carved around himself, and the moment she realized the distance was too great to cross.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says finally, nudging her shoulder in apology. “Been a rough year. Sometimes I forget we’re on the same side now.”

“I’ve always been on your side, Mulder,” she murmurs, feeling their history like a lead weight in her chest. “I’ve only ever wanted what was best for you.”

“I know,” he nods, then holds out his bottle. “Truce?”

“Truce,” she agrees, letting the glass clink softly. For a moment, the silence is comfortable, familiar, and she closes her eyes.

When she opens them, she’s looking at his profile in the dusky light. With his beard shaved and his hair trimmed, she can almost see the man she met twenty odd years ago. Without thinking, she reaches out to touch his cheek, the stubble rough against her fingers.

He looks over, bemused, and she pulls her hand away, still feeling the ghost of his skin against her palm.

“You clean up good, G-man,” she says.

He chuckles, his gaze turned upward. “Hey, it’s starting.”

He points to the sky and her eyes follow, trying to see what he sees. A pinprick of light flicks across the sky, followed by another, and then another; the beginnings of a meteor shower.

Mulder reaches behind them and pulls out two rolled sleeping bags, settling back against one in the bed of the truck. She doesn’t ask why he brought two instead of one, for the same reason she knows the extra beer in her hand was never intended for him.

She pulls the rolled blanket behind her and lies back to watch the show. Her eyes flit from one corner of the heavens to the other as more of the blue-white streaks make their way across the night, and she marvels at how the stars can still stun her with their beauty, how the universe in all its endless mystery can be so breathtaking, even after bringing such grief.

His voice is rich and vulnerable, spoken to the open air. “It wasn’t all bad, was it, Scully?”

She doesn’t have to think. Her response is as immediate and as involuntary as a heartbeat. “No…it wasn’t.”

She finds his hand without trying and listens to the sound of their mingled breathing as the sky falls around them.

cc @today-in-fic

#the x-files #mulder x scully #fanfic #x-files revival

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jiliansky-blog · 7 months ago

Text

I will find my way back to you. Chapter 4. Visits to the Dreaming

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 1570

“You’re shining and lost in thoughts,” Miranda noticed. “What is happening to you?”

“I saw him again in his castle,” you smiled. “She made me a place in his library. And he was very sad and told me his story.”

“You’re falling for him,” she admitted finally.

“What? No, don’t say stupid things,” you replied, blushing.

“But it’s not stupid things,” Miranda said. “I know you look when you’re in love.”

“That’s impossible,” you sighed. “He is the god of dreams, and their laws forbid such relationships. Besides, I’m not sure if he feels the same.”

“And he is your imagination,” she remarked.

“He is not,” you objected it. “I know it!”

You appeared in the Dreaming in a few days. Morpheus met you in his throne room for the last time. And he even smiled a little.

“How is your book?” he asked.

“Good,” you smiled. “You are a good inspiration. And how are you?”

“I am,” he said, looking confused after such a simple question.

“Don’t tell me anyone asked you this before,” you said.

“No, my friend Hob Gadling asked, and my sister,” he said. “It’s just…I don’t know what to answer. I’m fine, I suppose.”

“Alright,” you smiled. “I met Lucienne the last time. She is nice.”

“Yes, she is a great librarian and adviser,” Morpheus replied.

“You should be great to know such a big library so well,” you admitted.

“She was a raven once,” he replied.

“Oh, so you can change forms,” you said.

“They call me Shaper of forms,” he smiled. “But I change my ravens, dreams and nightmares. Not everything or everyone.”

“Oh,” you said.

“And ravens were once humans,” he continued. “When they were alive.”

“So are you saying that they became ravens after the death?” you asked.

“Indeed,” he nodded. “If they die in their sleep and choose to stay here instead of going to the sunless lands of my sister.”

“So, your sister...” you said. “Death?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” you replied.

“You were waiting for me,” Morpheus said. “While I was...Why?”

“Well, you don’t meet beautiful strangers in your dreams every day,” you smiled. “Sometimes it felt more real than my real life.”

“You, people, think that your life is a real one,” Morpheus smirked. “But life in the Dreaming as real as in the Wake world.”

“My friend wouldn’t agree with you,” you admitted. “She still thinks that our meetings, and you, are not real.”

“Did you tell her about us?” he frowned.

You knew that he meant different thing, but you still blushed after the word “us”.

“Not everything,” you replied. “She thinks it’s my imagination anyway. And I didn’t try to reassure her.”

“Good,” he agreed suddenly. “She doesn’t have questions in this case. Keep her thinking that I am not real.”

“Alright,” you agreed.

“I can show you around,” Morpheus offered. “Or maybe you prefer to stay in the library?”

“I would love to look around,” you smiled.

And he led you through corridors and outside the castle. Everything was beautiful. You saw the river with a stone bridge, held by a giant stone hand. And in the distance, there are some cozy houses.

“That’s incredible,” you whispered.

“Thank you,” he said. And smiled.

It’s amazing how a smile can change someone’s face. He became more beautiful, warmer, and younger. Completely different person.

“Did you change your story?” he asked suddenly. “After what I’ve told you?”

“Not much,” you replied. “I wrote about the prince who was lost and unlucky to be caught. Until the girl came and helped him.”

“Oh?” he smirked.

“She couldn’t immediately get him out of his cage,” you continued. “But she could keep him company. So she came every day there and talked to him.”

“I didn’t come to you every day,” he admitted.

“But I wish you could,” you said. “I can only imagine how lonely you were. And I wanted to help you.”

“You are helping now,” he said quietly.

“Are you lonely even now?” you said, surprised.

His eyes darkened, and he pouted, like when he gets offended. But then he sighed.

“Yes,” he said. “Sometimes.”

“Then I’m glad that I can help you,” you smiled.

“And still I’m afraid to get attached,” he admitted.

“Why?” you asked.

“I hurt everyone I love,” Morpheus replied. “Perhaps it would be a gift if I wouldn't let you stay here and then be hurt.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you admitted.

“Yet,” he says, shaking his head. “You can ask Calliope.”

“We are not our past,” you said. “I don’t want to believe that all you can do to us. Look around; you created all the beautiful stuff. You can change. You can act different.”

“You are giving me too much credit,” he sighed.

“Perhaps you deserve kindness in your life,” you smiled.

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “Everyone said that I’m terrible and that I deserve to die. Why do you say different?”

“Because I don’t see a terrible person,” you replied. “I see a lonely and hurt person who tried to hide his own wounds behind a cold attitude.”

He didn’t say anything. But then I felt like waking up, and the dream was over.

You hoped that Morpheus would invite you to the dream as soon as possible. And you tried to avoid talking much about him in front of Miranda. She was still skeptical about him being real and could warn you about your feelings.

But one time, Calliope visits you. Perhaps, she saw the change of narration in your story. She joined in the café as before.

“You met him,” she admitted.

“I didn’t look for him,” you said. “He found me. And we talked. Everything is fine.”

“Yes, he changed,” she nodded. “He is not as arrogant as before.”

“And you still warned me against him,” you said.

“It’s still dangerous for me to be with you,” she replied. “If you get attached to him. And you're already attached to him.”

“Perhaps,” you said. “But nothing happened. Can I ask something?”

“What?” she tensed immediately.

“He said that he hurt you, and I can ask you,” you said.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Calliope frowned. “He just became distant; go back to his work. He can be cold and say some cruel things to you. And then... our son. He couldn’t save him or stop him.”

That was something for the woman who didn’t want to talk about it.

“He regrets his choices,” you replied. “I think that perhaps he couldn’t be any different. He didn’t know how to.”

“And he didn’t want to change,” the muse admitted.

“Perhaps he believes that he can’t,” you replied.

“I know, though, that he can be charming, kind, and generous,” she said. “He is a gentle and attentive lover. But still, you shouldn’t begin love affair with him or your world will die.”

“That’s pretty cruel,” you sighed, shocked. “But I doubt that he is interested in me. I am just a mortal, after all.”

“She invited you,” she admitted. “I didn’t remember him doing that with any other mortal girl.”

“He is just grateful,” you shrugged.

“I hope you are right,” she replied. “For your own good.”

You have met with him a few more times. And each time, he has shown you different parts of his world. And you found out that he is willing to discuss your books or stories. And it was interesting to listen to his point of view.

Also, you got to know his raven, Matthew. He was quite chatty and was glad that he talks to humans.

“He changed after your meetings,” he told you once, when Morpheus left to do his work.

“How so?” you asked.

“He is gentler, calmer,” he said. “And I believe that he loves your meetings. Poor fellow is starving for simple communication.”

“Don’t let him hear you,” you smirked. “But do you really think so?”

“Yes, he wouldn’t show you everything himself if that wasn’t the case,” the raven replied. “He just doesn’t know how to show emotions.”

“He can be very sweet sometimes, though,” you noticed.

“I suppose so,” he replied.

Morpheus

I got used to this girl in the Dreaming. She still wanted to see me, as I was one of her friends. She wanted to know my opinion on different things. I forgot how good it is just to talk to someone. Perhaps, I should talk to Hob Gadling more too.

“My lord,” I heard Lucienne’s voice.

“Yes?” I asked in return.

“What do you think of Y\N?” she asked.

“She is...nice, I suppose,” I replied. “Or what people say in this situation. But I need to admit that I love to talk to her.”

“She is mortal, though,” Lucienne said. “You need to be more careful, my lord.”

“Don’t remind me,” I frowned. That reminding was like cold water.

“I like that girl too,” she continued. “But she started falling for you. You both need to be more careful.”

“I don’t understand,” I sighed. “I don’t give her any kind of romantic affection. Just my presence and allowance to the Dreaming”.

“Perhaps it’s enough,” she said. “Not everyone is going to wait stars from the sky.”

“Perhaps,” I agreed.

Still it was something wonderful in the fact that someone can love just because I let her stay next to me in my home. Or just talk without courting.

“I will consider your words, Lucienne,” I said anyway. “Thank you.”

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe @ladymoztaza @sapphireonline @deniixlovezelda

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #sandman fanfiction #the sandman

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blackbat05 · 11 months ago

Text

At my side

Fred Weasley x Reader

Plot: When you start to show cracks, a concerned Fred wants to intervene.

Genre: Angst/Comfort, PG-13

A/N: Haven’t been writing as much but when I do the trauma really shows?🤡 But in all seriousness, if you’re going through a tough time, I hope this piece can comfort you slightly. May there be better days.

Fred hears the door unlock, followed by the sound of you removing your shoes and coat. A loud groan emits from that rickety old chair at the dining table and Fred finds you slumped on the furniture, hand clasping a bottle of Butterbeer.

“Tough day?”

You give a wan smile and take a swig of the drink. Your head was still buzzing from the day’s events and you didn’t want to bring any troubles back.

“Dinner?” You asked, hoping to deflect the question. Fred tells you that Molly had sent over basil rice with tomato soup earlier in the day and had saved some for you. You notice that he’s still looking at you. Not wanting to crack under his gaze, you excuse yourself to wash up.

Alone in the bathroom, you find yourself heaving a sigh of relief. You go through the motion quietly and despite being clean, all you want to do is to curl up in bed and sleep the weekend away.

“Hullo love.” Fred appears at the doorway and you already dread where this is going. You have to act normal so you nod nonchalantly. Fred gets beside you.

“Everything okay? You seem sad.” Fred makes an astute observation.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired that’s all.” Your voice is a little too high pitched. You don’t want to tell him how you overheard malicious gossip at your temporary job as a healer assistant. Somewhere along the lines of how Fred was a successful, self-made entrepreneur and you were just there for the ride. It hurt even more because it was true.

“Sorry, Fred.” You interrupt. “I’m rather beat, I’ll go to sleep first.”

Before Fred can get another word in, you slip under the sheets and turn away from him. You’ve cried enough. You don’t want to make yourself weak in front of him.

***

Fred stops in front of the closed shop and leans naturally on the glass panel. Arriving at St Mungo’s, he’s greeted by staff and families buzzing around the reception area.

Holding a bag of food from your favorite Chinese restaurant, Fred sets off to find you. He gets off the third floor, and makes his way to the staff room where he’s sure to find you.

“She’s not going to move anywhere else! Not when she has that gorgeous ginger to provide for her.” A nasty voice emits from the room. Fred halts in his tracks and inches a little closer.

“I wish I could have her life,” another voice whines. “I would never have to worry about bills and have tea after passing time.”

Fred could smell the sarcasm from a mile away. The chorus of laughter only made his blood boil because he was no idiot, he knew that they were talking about you. So that’s why you were so gloomy yesterday. Fred has the urge to burst in there and give them a piece of his mind when-

“Fred?”

He turns around and you’re standing there holding a clipboard looking pale and shell-shocked. How much did he overhear from your nasty colleagues?

You manage to snap out of it and grab him by the wrist, pulling Fred to the lobby and out of earshot from curious eyes and ears.

“What was that? Was that why you were so sad?” Fred interrogates. “Tell me!”

You flinch at his accusatory tone. No. You will not be spoken to this way. The past couple of months had been hard on you. The passing of your grandmother coupled with the inability to get a stable job had took a toll on you. You were trying so hard to keep it together but sometimes, all you need is just a spark to start an inferno.

“Will you stop harassing me!” You snarl and Fred genuinely looks shocked at your sudden outburst. This wasn’t you. You were always bright and sunny despite whatever challenges that were thrown your way. The person that was in front of him was… downtrodden and beaten.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Your hands are tightly balled into fist. “I’m trying so hard to feel some sort of worth at a job where my colleagues think I’m a rich skank mooching off her boyfriend and that I’m doing this job to simply pass time.” You find your shoes very interesting at this point in time. “So if you have nothing useful to say, please leave.”

As the words tumble out of your mouth, a part of you cannot believe what you’ve just said. You’re a horrible bastard. You can’t bear to look at the expression on Fred’s face so you turn and stalk back to the ward where your “beloved” colleagues were probably wondering where you ran off to.

***

You apparated a few feet outside of your shared apartment, letting out a sigh. You weren’t looking forward to the conversation to be honest.

Be a big girl.

You open the door to silence and for a moment you think that Fred is still at the shop.

“Hey.”

Crap.

You turn around to see Fred at the kitchen, holding two mugs. “Can we talk?” He asks gently. You nod and wordlessly make your way to the dining table.

“Thanks.” You accept the mug of hot chocolate and are pleasantly comforted by the warmth gushing down your throat.

“About just now,” Fred starts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have turned up unannounced.” He fiddles with his hands, a sign that he still has more to say. “And I shouldn’t have been that hard on you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, it’s me.” You blurt out. “I know you were concerned. I didn’t want to tell you because you’ve been really busy with the shop and honestly, I thought I could handle it on my own. Those nosy witches, they’re more bark than bite.” Your insult brings a small smile on your face and this humors Fred as well.

As you let your guard down, suddenly the weight of the world falls off your shoulders and your cheeks start to feel wet.

“Oh,” you summon a handkerchief, “I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’ve been too hard on yourself.” Fred frowns. “You’ve been through a lot. I wished I could have carried some of it for you.”

“You already have.” You hold his hand, thinking about how he insisted to be there for you when your grandmother passed away and never left your side once. As the tears rolled down your face, you realize one thing.

“You were there and I always want you to be by my side.”

You think about how if Fred was never there, you would have fought everything on your own. It wasn’t any easier now, but at least it wasn’t rock bottom.

Fred gives you a tight hug.

“Always.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley fanfiction #weasley twins

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bogusboxed · 1 year ago

Text

Boxtobier ⊗ Day 2

"The Big Picture.”

Pairing: Helen Otis X GN!Reader

Theme: “Forbidden Love." & "Family, Friends, Love Ones."

Rating: (PG-15+)

Words: 6k

Trigger Warning(s): Brief Vulgar Language, Minor Mentions Of Criminal Deviance, Depictions Of Gore, and Psychological Disturbance.

This is recommended for ages fifteen and up; reader discretion is advised. The rights to this character, "Bloody Painter," fully belong to DeluCat.

This is a fictional, harmless piece of writing; do not incorporate it into your daily life.

Tom E. Stevens is not a real person, he's fully fictional and only serves as a reference from Bloody Painter’s original story. Any correlation to real victims is NOT intentional.

The breeze was glacial against your warm-blooded skin; it bit your nose with a numbing sharpness. You should’ve worn more layers in this type of climate, but you were in a hurry, which led to skipping a few steps in your typical routine.

Your brass keys jingled around like golden bells attached to a decorative holiday ribbon. They created an off-putting metronome sound when they clattered viciously against the steel buckle.

Your mind adapted to the noise, senselessly focusing on the sparkly ring. But, still, you pulled yourself from it, fighting it.

You tried your best to keep your head straight by prioritizing the need to reach the building because only the vultures knew how dangerous this line of work could be.

You couldn't help but question your choices from months ago because if you knew what you know now, you wouldn’t have signed up for that internship.

Working tirelessly alongside the forensic department had taken a toll on your health unlike anything else. Currently, your body felt like shit, as if every limb had been yanked from its socket, resembling the way taffy is stretched beyond recognition.

You stiffly shifted your back, feeling the aches rise and fall in an agonizing unorganized harmony. You let out a bottomless exhale, the puff of warmth diffusing in the tempered winds.

You hated clocking in earlier than what was ordered, but you also knew the piles of work they had planned out for you. So it’d just be better to get it over with at dawn and have plenty of "free time" during the day.

However, yesterday, you hadn’t been as clever and had to fight the collisions of cars. What was even worse than that was the fact you came in late, barely having the proper time to study the files.

But what was weirder was the number of cases.

Over the months, winter had finally broken out, and when it did, so did the bodies. They practically doubled in the short time frame, heightening, unlike any other season.

But it wasn’t anything you could control; you could only try to prevent it.

It was bleak; your fingers felt lifeless, suffering from the hazardously low temperatures. Your lungs were repressed, taking subtle amounts of polar oxygen inward.

Breathing seemed to only bring a sub-zero chill, dulling your system in a torturous manner.

Your watery eyes caught a detailed glimpse of the illuminated station a few meters away from you. Uniform glass windows lined the front. Icy white spiderwebs seemed to dust the rims, only having the middle of each glass plane defrosted.

The light beige building was around two stories high and was more expansive than a typical station due to housing an accompanying forensic department.

You tilted your head at the closer police cars, which were lined right at the front. The vehicles were predominantly white, marked with bold and contrasting black and blue stripes running along their sides.

A tinge of envy surged through your veins, with the wish you didn’t have an entire marathon to walk each time you went to work. Passing the oversized rides, you followed the guiding light closer to the department.

Powdery snow crunched under your soles, compacting with each movement. Every step sounded high-pitched, squeaking like a dog toy. The wintery molecules had recently fallen, barely printed on by animals or other people.

Unfortunately, though, you were leaving tracks with the way you moved your figure.

You didn’t feel secure being this out in the open, especially with the surrounding area’s reputation. A warm light glowed from the windows, refracting onto the concrete sidewalk you walked on.

Safety was near.

You should’ve been more attentive to your surroundings instead of beelining it straight to base. But you’d rather speed up than patiently get hypothermia from the Alaskan air.

Moving your weight at a timely pace, you soon made quick work of the built-in parking lot. But it wasn’t just the Fahrenheit that made you move this way; it was the added pressure of the latest murders.

The fresh kills from the man on the loose—his existence was blowing up on the internet. Hundreds were prying at the case, no matter how much your local department tried to keep it under wraps.

Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for some thirsty news articles to try to dig too deep. But this instance was different because the officials knew he stayed in one spot, and they didn't need the public to scare him off to another city.

However, in your personal opinion, he’d gotten worse. Not in the way he became clumsier, but in the way he’d gotten smarter. Because now he was starting to grasp the concept of covering up his tracks.

For the past three months, you've seen multiple carcasses.

It wasn’t anything new to see animalistic amounts of chewed-out corpses daily. But these recently submitted physiques always had one horrifying thing in common with one another.

An extended incision two inches right below the jaw.

The likeness of each mark always left an abyssal pang in the roots of your abdomen. Forcing you to churn and gush profusely, like all your acids had come together to form a nauseating butter.

Though it wasn’t like you weren’t prepared for this, you’d trained for months in college, studying what you could. Because essentially, you had sold your soul to the corporations. So in your mind, it was for the best to just stay reticent about your discomfort.

But, still. The imagery of the wounds was haunting. You were sure that if you were asked to recall how the incision appeared, you’d have no trouble.

Because the cut was always the same.

Why did it have to be the same every fucking time, and why couldn’t you get used to it? It was just a slice above the collarbone and below the human mandible.

It wasn’t like their head had been blown to bits.

The repetition, however, was appalling. You couldn’t accept that someone out there liked the fluency and the never-ending pattern left. Did they know how it kept you up at night? Could they ever reflect on how personal each cut felt?

Did they even have the capacity to comprehend the hole they left in the lives of those they harmed? Or maybe this is what they wanted. To make others feel like shit?

You just wished the mercy of the world could spare you and take away this aching remorse. You exhaled, the weight of your thoughts having the same drag of an anchor.

It was difficult to be at ease, though the closure you brought to families seemed to help.

Your dense shoes felt like they were grating against the battered concrete. Every simple scrape seemed ten times more deafening than it was. To say you were on edge would’ve been a heinous understatement.

You kept your digits stuffed in your layered pockets, no longer wanting to contend with the arctic currents. You felt your body at work, trying its best to keep you thawed and snugly toasted.

With preferable timing, you had finally completed your route.

You could feel a different torridity, leaving the parking lot unscathed. Swiftly, you began your brief climb up the compressed staircase.

You swore you didn’t need the handrails, forcing your figure to prance up the case without the added support. In the back of your mind, you knew that if you clutched onto them, you’d only get frostbite or an open, rusty lesion on your palm.

Following the gleaming lights, you hunted down the entrance of the building.

Pastry beige walls and reflective, frosted-tipped windows made most of your peripherals. Your eyes devoured the sight with the knowledge that you wanted nothing else but to be inside.

Silently, you merged, heading to the entrance of the department.

Your plush, silky lanyard bounced with each quick action, and in no time, you found yourself standing in front of the lackluster glass door. Your heated breath fogged up the float glass while you humanly debated whether or not to doodle shapes on the surface.

But you unwillingly compelled yourself to move on to more pressing matters. After a few seconds of inner turmoil, you begrudgingly retracted your hands from your fleece cavities. With your balmy clutches, you invaded the sleek metal door handle.

With an unenthusiastic heave, you hauled open the burdensome door.

A flushed breeze tenderly nuzzled your visage, completely changing your groggy attitude that’d grown from the bitterness of the cold. Taking a few unnoticeable steps inward, you let go of the door.

The heft of the gate automatically sealed the space back up, enclosing the heat from the ruthless outside.

You had no more icy waves to come crashing down on you. So, you felt the lack of need to shield your skin; taking a brief gluttonous puff of well-tempered air, you could faintly taste the macchiato that was lingering.

The smell felt almost stereotypical in the way it reverberated off each wall. You hated to admit just how many of those movies were right about the police.

Getting back on target, you looked around the foyer, and as always, it wasn’t anything special. The room was semi-upper-class, having fancy connecting hallways, an undersized reception desk, and a cramped, cheap waiting room.

Along the barren, pale walls lay a handful of plastic chairs, a box for dropping off prescription drugs, and overly artificial plants. The department strived to make the place look as welcoming as possible, but it mostly came off as out of touch and condescending.

Turning your attention to the cut-off front desk, you saw a distant coworker. Her face was slim, enhanced with sculpture-like features. A rich mixed skin tone painted her and only brightened her overall beautiful complexion.

However, what stood out most was her blinding, superstitious golden badge titling her "Lt Sara."

She currently seemed to be diligently managing inquiries and various calls. Though you’d heard various rumors of what she did before, she joined the department. (Something along the lines of British special forces?)

A dense panel of plexiglass seemed to cage the mid-toned operator inside. She didn’t pay you much mind, keeping to herself; her rich, murky eyes seemed to be glued to her rather expensive work-issued laptop.

You decided not to put your nose where it didn’t belong, ignoring your deepening innocence to ask what she was typing.

Taking a few fleeting steps toward your branch, pitter-patter-like footsteps began to tap throughout the once-muted room. Humbly walking, you were perceptive to the irritating buzzing of the incandescent lightbulb above.

Management should’ve changed it out weeks ago upon regulation, but who could arrest literal law enforcement?

Step by step, the stillness of the fruitless office was betrayed by the sound of parroting taps. The department seemed desolate and liminal in the sense that you were the only one creating any commotion.

It was almost uncanny how much the towering walls were devoid of life.

You kept your posture professional, keeping an unrushed pace down the enclosed hallway. Neutral-colored file cabinets were mindlessly lined, seeming to camouflage with the chipped beige wall. You took your regulated turns, passing by the same identifiable tables, worn-out navy chairs, and other miscellaneous decor.

You could feel a slight burning sensation in your nose, probably caused by the over-the-top cleaning supplies the facility always used.

You wordlessly questioned the janitors on why they put their entire heart into their job, but you only found yourself wishing you could have the same enthusiasm as them.

Your shoes clicked on the polished, stony-colored tiles as your eyes traced down the doors carved on either side. You glazed over multiple shiny labels, all too familiar to you at this point.

You couldn’t count on one hand the number of times you’d seen these signs. The time you spent here seemed to blur together at this point.

Who knew an internship could be this catastrophic?

The walls only seemed to bring you closer and closer to your destination, with every ridge of the painted-over brick wall now recognizable. Pursuing your common area, the doors began to seem to become more robust and excessive compared to the previous.

However, it wasn’t anything too shocking given that all the information locked inside those rooms was highly sought after. However, what was surprising was that interns (college kids) had access to some pretty sensitive records.

Speaking of your rookie classmates, they unfortunately recruited yet another intern, and worse, they were assigned to sit right next to you. Funnily enough, that was one of the reasons you got here so early.

As of right now, your desk looked like the result of a hurricane, and it didn’t help that you used the once-vacant desk next to you for storage. You internally cringed, caught up in the swirly emotion that’d be their initial impression of you.

You let out a swallow exhale upon recollection. Hopefully, they weren’t going to be the verbal bane of your existence, pestering you with lackluster questions all year.

Focusing once more, you reached for your silky, smooth lanyard. Fingers fumbled looking for your QR code identification card, given with the lowest human access possible.

You slouched downward, folding yourself. You took the sturdy card and pressed it against the laser sensor. Having pressed the densely laminated plastic against the puny square-shaped metal box, the door made a short beep.

Your hands briskly moved to the glistening door handle, now heaving it down with no resistance. A click came from the frame, letting you know the hardened lock had finally released its restless hold.

Soon, you wedged yourself inside the room, shutting the high-tech door behind you with a thunderous thump. Luminous fluorescent lighting helped to display the expansive classroom.

The space featured a variety of lengthy, soulless desks, placed as close as they could be to one another. While accompanying cheap plastic chairs were uniformly paired underneath each table. Files seemed to be anchored in stacks close to the windows, which were curtained by opaque sheets.

It was almost childish the amount of priceless work just lazily left out. Your eyes scanned the trivial room again, passing various foreign areas until you shadowed your own.

You paused.

Nothing was missing, and that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the man nonchalantly working between the brochures you left on your previous shift, and if things couldn’t get worse, you recognized him.

This wasn’t just any typical guy, however. This was the college’s award-winning artist, Helen Otis. (Someone whom you found yourself admiring a little too much.)

You’d seen his works plenty of times, each one better than the last. You didn’t know how many art competition trophies he had tucked under his belt, and you didn't know how he had so much room for them.

Sweat was building under your metaphoric shirt collar, leaving you wanting to pull it like a cartoon character. Out of everybody, why'd it have to be him? However, even with the distaste bubbling in your mouth, you could still sense a puppy-like heart race thumping in your chest.

During the years you’d been in school with him, he’d always been a recluse. He had never been the type to do a vast presentation or be among big social groups. But he had been the art kid, inaudibly crafting away in a scenic spot where no one would bother him.

Though it was still surprising, you’d never thought he would be the one to take up this line of work. You always thought he’d do something more along the lines of comical animation or abstract commissions.

But here he was at your doorstep, doing the same thing he always did: wordlessly painting strokes on a page.

Even though he wasn’t paying you any mind, you felt yourself appreciating his personal portrait. You knew neither of you had spoken to the other throughout your college years, but still, some idiotic part of you found his mysterious aura appealing.

From his murky ink tuft of hair to his cerulean stone-shaded eyes, all his facial features seem to drag you further like a fish to a hook, line, and sinker.

If your heart hadn’t been auctioned away for his looks already, his personality had to be the nail in the coffin. He was hushed and polite, always mindful of those around him with a tranquil gaze plastered on his face.

All these things combined made it unfathomable to wonder why he was in such a gruesome line of work. He never did seem capable of harm; at least that’s what you thought.

At the moment, you found yourself fixating on him more than you should’ve, promptly getting lured in by the bait of his serene features. But you hastily shut that down, making it imperative to keep it strictly professional.

All he was was your co-worker who incidentally resided right next to your seat, and it was no big deal; he was just a fresh hire, and that’s all these feelings were. (Keep telling yourself that.)

You shuffled yourself further in. Each step felt like a chain and cannonball attached to your ankle, dragging you down from getting any further. You took an unnoticeable puff before giving in to your sullen movements.

Your shoes barely squeaked on the flat, tiled flooring, efficiently making it to your spot. You did everything in your power to ignore him, which proved difficult when he was now in front of you. Though, thankfully, he didn’t seem to peer up from his current task.

You subtly began taking the diverse portfolios you abandoned the night before and neatly placing them in a lanky stack on your side. Cautiously, you continued to take back your leftovers, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions about your actions.

Luckily for you, each rustling you made was always covered by either a light tap or an oppressive rub back and forth. Pages of newer and older cases grazed your plushy palms as you needily grabbed them covertly.

The scent of vanilla seemed to leak out of the paper each time you ruffled it onto the stack. Your eyes tracked your borrowed files as you mindlessly counted their shared total.

Once you finally piled all of your belongings onto the corner of your desk, you seized a few files from the top, taking out an oh-so-familiar beige folder. Even with how flimsy the printer paper was, it still managed to send a falling sensation deep into your intestines.

Because the case inside had to be one of the most extreme and unsettling you'd seen in a while.

Taking a hasty breath outward, you knew you had a job to do, and you knew that involved making a move. Your emotions were all wack, both agitated by the folder and anxious by Helen.

But restlessly, you still made a move against the odds.

The chair creaked naturally under the sudden weight, adding even more layers to the need to die. You hate this feeling. You hated that the one person you found interest in was sitting this close to you.

You didn’t know why every breath you took felt like an arrow spearing your heart—was it him? Was it the case? Or was it a mix of both?

Being immobilized by gushy chords, the graphite scratching next to you came to a momentary halt before swiftly returning to its ordinary irregular pattern. The pause left a prickly ache and an immeasurable abyss in your soppy organs.

Snapping out of the abnormal haze, you made it mandatory to remember that, at the end of the day, this was an internship. A job that both of you didn't want, and if you did, neither of you intended to be sociable (specifically him).

You got back on track; your hands glided more rigorously on your pivotal file; delicately, you unfolded the restricted document. The folder had a presentation page, making it seem more personalized and human than it was.

In a blueish-black color, a jagged handwritten name embellished the originally empty soulless template.

“Tom E. (Enzo) Stevens.”

You found yourself drowning in thought on the marked page. He was relatively close in age to you, lived in the same area, and for an unbeknownst reason to you, that title rang a bell. You could’ve sworn you’d heard it before, but yet again, that name wasn’t all that unique.

In regards to his death, it was virtually the same as the rest of the victims. He had the staple of the slit two inches below his jaw, but instead of his corpse being on display for the world to see, he’d been shoved off the sixth floor of an apartment complex (that wasn’t too far from your college).

Tom’s death was rushed in comparison and was not nearly as time-intensive as the others. The report drew it down to the realization of eyewitnesses, and if he had taken any longer, the law would've caught up to him.

Interestingly enough, a few regular drunks had seen the man’s figure on the building minutes before the murder, and due to this, it caused his biggest slip-up yet.

Unfortunately, they all made a few vastly different statements, going from brown to blue hair, then to pale to dark skin.

But there happened to be one consistent variable: they said without a doubt he’d worn a paper-mache mask that'd been laced with a crimson grin.

Flipping the page, you are greeted with degraded photos of distinct items. Each object picture had mini-notes stapled underneath it, indicating what evidence was linked to it.

You examined each sunburnt print systematically, trying to find any correlation between them, but to no avail. You leafed pages. You spent more time thoroughly inspecting each discolored paragraph. Your glistening eyes traced each victim and the corresponding articles that died along with them.

You could feel the air trapped in your throat as you swallowed faintly. The similarities, the rate, and the age ran shivers up your spine.

You were more than a perfect candidate.

You were shaken up by the realization. Your breath was off its typical route; you prevailed and kept a stone-cold demeanor. The chances of you being caught and killed by the murderer were low, (but never zero).

You just had to be strong; you had to be for this field of work. No matter how your hands twitched, you needed to find that strength for the people who couldn’t.

Browsing through the thin pages, you could sense something was off. You were missing something from the case. You skimmed through the entire folder once more before you put your finger on it.

You were missing the composite drawings.

Your mind readily changed from the haunting cases to the fellow peer next to you. Inches away, and you’d get your answer, but you weren’t sure how to ask, considering he shouldn’t have been messing with that folder in the first place.

Your curiosity brushed itself against you like a cat; you needed to know if he had it before, you started to panic. It wasn’t like you were asking for a pencil you’d never return; you were asking for the missing drawings on a report.

This was serious, and you had to take it that way, no matter how accusing it felt. You turned from your desk to his. He smelled of graphite; its earthy and metallic aroma clouded up his station.

He seemed to be completely immersed in his work like he was in an altered reality of his own. The more seconds that flew by, the more you realized how lost in his artistry he was. You considered speaking up, not realizing he’d already noticed you in his peripherals.

As you began to open your mouth, he exhaled, stopping his precise charcoal brushing.

“Yes?”

He kept his voice conservative, not raising his tone above a whisper.

His digits remained intertwined with the slender soot utensils. He began to subtly tap at his wooden desk with the edge point like he was counting the seconds between each of your shared words.

Though he kept his face sharp and still, like an unmarked canvas.

“Do you know where the Bloody Painter composite drawings are? My folder seems to be missing them." You exhaled your words, trying to be as cushy as possible and not seem interrogative.

His melodic clicks ceased, and his clench on the pencil faltered. His pallid features stayed remote, trying to ignore the swift glint that glowed in his somber eyes.

“I took them from your file earlier this morning for reference. I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were confidential.” Tragically enough, you were unperceptive to the inflection in his voice.

He soon turned his wooden pencil horizontally, gently caressing the wood. He dotted his sea creature's eyes with yours. He seemed to search for yours like a pirate on a treasure-ridden island.

“You’re with forensic arts, right?” The second you began to speak, he retracted his vision back down to the smooth, polished floor.

He allowed the conversation to grow dry, mindlessly making his leg bounce his weight. “Mhm.”

You felt your chest being squeezed. You didn’t mean to mess up his art session, but you needed the composite drawings back before you could return the folder to the officials.

Your eyes traveled down from the side of his head, down to his triangular jaw, and then to the papers scattered on his side of the table. A certain sketch, however, stuck out to you; it varied in hues of charcoal and was dented with professional marks.

He looked around his late twenties, having semi-long strands of dark pecan hair framing his face. His eyes were dull, unlit with a murky, mud-like shade.

“Are those the composite drawings?”

An acute exhale came from his side as he now entirely rotated himself from his work to you. He didn’t keep his eyes locked on you, but he seemed more engaged, having a light rose tinted at the height of his cheeks.

He allowed the words to sink in: “Not exactly. They’re only my interpretation.”

You briefly hummed while he spoke, continuing to stare at his overly perfect works of art. It was immaculate. Of course, it didn’t compare much to the other pieces that he had full liberty over, but still, it was unbeatable.

“They look so good, though; you’re extremely talented,” you complimented, not knowing how your eyes sparkled when appreciating the craftsmanship.

Your words were more than honest and the exact thing you were thinking, but you hadn’t taken into account how he’d react to something like that. You silently huffed; he’d probably heard it a million times before, but you couldn’t help it.

Unannounced to you, he’d been gazing at you directly (for once) with no sign of retreat. Helen was taking in your eyes, and the way they glistened was full of reverence. He found himself soaking in it. He’d heard plenty of praise for his arts before, but the way you looked set the sail.

He’d need to sketch that later for better practice. He made some effort to take a detailed mental photo of it.

Stupidly enough, he stayed idly facing you, studying your features. Time passed easily, and you glanced back instinctively. He smoothly flicked his sight right back to his personal (inaccurate) composite drawing.

Unknown to him, his posture recoiled and formed an unhealthy "C," which was odd compared to his typical ruler-straight stance.

“Thank you," he gritted his teeth; like he was offended, the words even dared to come out of his mouth.

A smile found its way to your face. He was grateful that he enjoyed your appreciation, even with how passive-aggressive it seemed. You could see yourself becoming friends (or more) with Helen if he went any further with forensics.

You pulled away from your unusual lovey-dovey behavior, getting back on topic. “You do have the originals, right?”

He seemed taken aback, his once pensive expression leaving you. He tampered with his pencil; he pressed his fingers on the wood. His eyes now seemed fixated on a distant point.

He reformed his gentlemanly persona, trying not to lose concentration on the purpose of this conversation. “I do.”

You didn’t know what to make of his current wreck of emotions, but you decided he was just having a rough morning. Though you didn’t like how his interest fled again, you didn’t mention it, but you just wished he hadn’t deserted the conversation.

Helen moved his figure, reaching toward the feeble stack of paper centimeters away from him. His delicate fingers began flipping through assorted works and notes, trying to track down the originals.

The light of the class-like room reflected on his furrowed expression, highlighting his brow bone. The sound of rustling and separation seemed to recite throughout the room as you patiently waited for results.

He gradually made his way to an inked-out document, his facial features wavering.

You could see a darkly printed facade of someone’s face. It must’ve been the original, going on the new assumption that the department didn’t trust college students to not fuck with the authentic piece. Maybe they were fearful that they’d spill something on it or try to steal it to sell on eBay.

He assertively separated any remaining sticking papers before hastily handing you the official print.

You respectfully put on an artificial professional smile, being polite to the artist. As for rule-breaking, his decision was for unintentionally stealing the reprint; you decided against reporting him to the higher-ups.

He was passionate, with an amiable soul and a gullible desire to redraw composite drawings. Sure, he was naive, putting his nose where it didn’t belong, but you couldn’t fault him.

He was just an overzealous painter, and that was all.

Your sight indeliberately flocked back to his side, mindlessly trying to ensure yourself that you hadn’t forgotten anything else. You glanced over a few pencils, pens, and squishy erasers before seeing a different, tougher sheet of paper featuring a distinctive man's physique.

It was a spot-on illustration of the lengthy description you had received of the Tom S. case. Just how much had he looked into your assigned folder? The peculiar portrait could’ve been compared to his actual face; it was uncanny how close he’d gotten your mental image of Tom on paper.

“That’s a drawing of Tom, right? From Tom Steven's murder?” You found yourself intrigued more and more by his virtuosity.

You speculated on the time Helen had lost to etching out victims from the infamous “Bloody Painter” case. You understood he was a part of the forensics art department, but how much graphic painting could one take? Plus, it seemed out of character for him to drain his morning by willingly outlining something that gruesome.

There was a wordless pause as your eyes watched one of his knees buck up and down at a similar, relentless pace. You could feel a pit of solicitude gush in your lower abdomen as if you had crossed a line. That case must’ve struck a nerve, and having to draw the victim probably made the distaste in his throat more drastic.

He had a short, delayed response to your words, losing his energy to keep this chatter going. “Yeah.”

You tilted your head while studying the image’s graphics further. There seemed to be a vital mistake, leaving the drawing inaccurate and fruitless. While most of it had been on point, even having an abbreviated listing of how he was killed, Helen still managed to miss one important factor.

The constant marking, the slit that was supposed to be under his jaw

You wanted to keep it to yourself; you really did, but something in your soul ticked. You thought it over a few times, but it was futile as your compulsive behaviors made the words leak from your mouth.

“You forgot something. Bloody Painter left a laceration two inches under his jaw before pushing him off."

Like a magnet to a refrigerator, he snapped his sights back to his drawing. His neverending cavern of navy blue eyes thoroughly inspected his graphite marks. His salmon lips parted, charcoal eyebrows pressing against one another.

You knew it could’ve come off tedious and knit-picky, but you couldn’t help that nagging feeling that he’d appreciate your insight.

As you closed the space between you both to provide further aid on the unnecessary addon, he brought his attention to you. His dangerous mako eyes locked onto yours, making you feel stuck in an inescapable trance.

This was the first time he’d made eye contact with you.

He hummed one unnoticeable syllable that resembled a “hm” as he leaned an inch closer with the intent to absorb every word that came out of you. A clear indication of how deeply engaged he was.

Now that the spotlight and praise were on you, you couldn’t seem to do anything like a person getting stage fright in front of an impressive crowd.

You felt your body linger on autopilot. No person could handle this stimulation; at least that's what it felt like due to the chemicals pumping through your body. There was no need to react like this, but here you were at the mercy of his prestigious eyes.

Harboring and pleading your jittery breath away, you failed to take note of his defined hand nonchalantly creeping up on your mandible.

“Something like this?”

His pointer and middle were soon firmly planted against your flesh-covered artery. You could feel the pressure build on your sensitive throat, leaving a valley caused by his callous fingers. By this point, you were sure he could feel the way your pulse battered out of your chest.

The only solution to this was that he must’ve been a visual learner. That was the only viable explanation, but still, you found yourself warm to the touch. The air shared felt solid, palpable, and able to be cut.

But being so intertwined with your own cords of emotions, your brain glossed over the fact that he was pressed precisely where the killer always cut.

“Yeah, something like that." Your words fumbled over one another, not being able to tell if he could sense the tension he inadvertently created.

A mischievous smile was firmly tucked into his features. But before you could even pry into his preceding actions, a heightened beep buzzed from his pocket. He instantly backed his hand away from your neck, letting it rest on his thigh.

His light appearance was brought down by a sudden weight as he withdrew a slick gray phone. You caught a glimpse of the vibrating screen as he haphazardly let it ring.

"Masky. (Ignore if possible.)”

He huffed as his skinny face expeditiously contorted into a solemn deadpan. His leg went right back to a musically animated bounce before leaving your proximity.

He dragged the cellular device to his ear; his sight darted down to you with a velvety expression and whispered, "Sorry– I’ll be back.”

You reverted to your senses, getting back into gear. You affirmed him instantaneously with a nod. His mood was upended by your assuring movement as he departed from your shared space, heading for somewhere more secluded.

Once his presence dissipated, you fully accepted the circumstances. Your breath was still uneven, and you even felt way too comfortable in your once-itchy chair. Your flushed state progressively cleared up; however, you were still bubbly from the previous altercation.

Without much thought, your perception picked up on the Tom Stevens illustration once more. You didn’t notice it previously, but there was a creative liberty added to his special composite.

A tattoo. You didn’t recall the description ever stating he had an emblem on his collarbone.

Especially one with an O and an X.

Written By: Verdana. (bogusbox)

Beta [Alpha] Reader: Sara. (tobyskitten342)

Mentions: @flufftober & @tobyskitten342

A/N: It's been proofread :D

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