#but then again here i am bothered enough by it to waste time on a vague vent post about it all again when i could also just ignore it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

klausysworld · 4 months ago

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He Left First

He turned up late, again. It was obvious he forgot we even had a date planned let alone what it was for.

He was underdressed for the Restaurant reflecting his lack of effort, no flowers or anything. I know I shouldn't expect a gift but I thought he might've for our two years.

His eyes were so distant when he looked at me. He only looked annoyed as he looked over the menu, as if it was a waste of his time.

Hesitantly I grabbed the little gift back from my side and placed it on the table infront of him.

"I wasn't sure if we were doing gifts, I know it's only two years...I don't know I just got something small." I muttered, feeling stupid for even bothering. I glanced at his face and saw it dawn upon him why we were here. His mouth opened a couple times, the guilt started to form as he placed the menu down.

"Love-" He whispered and I forced a smile.

"It's nothing special, it's only little." I mumbled, waiting for him to open it. Slowly he opened the gift, it was just a painting. In the early stages of our relationship he had tried to teach me but I wasn't much good so I had been practicing the things he showed me to make him it. "I know it's not great-"

"No...It's perfect." He muttered as he stared at it.

I felt a little awkward as it went quiet before the waiter came over to ask what we'd like to have, I just ordered a grilled chicken salad and Klaus mumbled for a steak. He let out a small sigh once the waiter left and put the gift back in the bag.

"I haven't been here enough as of late and I'm sorry." He apologised, his eyes boring into mine. "I'm gonna buy you a hundred presents tomorrow to make up for this-"

"It's really fine, I just want to have a nice night." I told him and he nodded, getting up and moving his seat round to sit beside me and wrap his arm round my waist. It felt nice to feel the warmth of his touch. The touch of his lips on my head and he whispered he was sorry.

When the food came he stayed beside me and we ate with light conversation of past dates that had been particularly funny or eventful.

Honestly it was going so well, one of the nicest dates we'd had until his phone lit up on the table. A collection of messages lining up on his screen.

He picked it up and unlocked it, revealing Camille's name to pop up over and over. A frown overtook his features as he opened the messages. She said she needed him, his help. I heard him sigh and I looked down at my half eaten meal knowingly.

"Y/N..." He whispered and I let go of my fork.

"Can't we just have one night without her?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"Love, she's my friend. I can't just leave her when I know she needs me-" He defended but I couldn't understand it.

"I need you." I argued but my voice was weak. "I need you but you'll leave me?"

"I'm not leaving you. I'm just helping someone out-"

"Yeah? I bet you help her out a fucking lot." I snapped and his eyes narrowed.

"If you're insinuating that I've been unfaithful..."

"So what if I am? Am I wrong? You haven't been sleeping with me so you're getting it somewhere-"

"Shut your mouth." He warned. I glared at him and felt my face burn with heat as people around us came to a halt in their conversations.

"Or what, Klaus?" I asked and his jaw tightened.

"I'm not doing this with you." He muttered, getting up and taking his phone. I should have just let him go but in that moment I needed him to hurt like I hurt.

"What, you're just gonna run away? You always gonna be a fucking coward Klaus?" I yelled and he didn't answer. "You're the same bastard your father raised."

He faltered in his step at that, his hand curled into a fist at his side but ultimately he kept walking out of sight.

I glanced round at everyone staring and just sighed. I grabbed my purse and pulled out enough money to cover the meals, leaving it on the table and snatched the disregarded gift bag before walking out too.

I cried in the street, facing a wall as i tried not to make any sound. I pulled myself together as quickly as I could before walking home. Realistically I shouldn't have even considered going back to that stupid mansion but I did.

I ignored everyone as I went upstairs and got in one of the spare beds. I didn't bother cleaning my skin or changing my clothes, I just went to bed.

Even in the morning I just didn't get up, I just stayed there wondering what the fuck was going to happen. Part of me wanted to pack up and leave but...I loved him. I'd stayed with him for so long now, through far too much to just leave him right?

That being said when I heard the front door go and Rebekah asking where Klaus had been all night broke my heart because I knew he had been with Cami. I accused him of cheating so he decided to prove I was right.

I sniffed back my tears, refusing to cry anymore especially with him in earshot.

I forced myself up and got out of bed, stepping over the heels I had kicked off last night and opening the door. I stepped out and immediately saw him stood at the top of the stairs. Hair ruffled and eyes tired.

Neither of us spoke a word as I went into the bathroom next door to shower. When I came back out in my towel I found my comfy clothes laid out on my bed. With reluctance I accepted the gesture and got dressed. There was no point in drying my hair or having any makeup on so I just wondered downstairs.

Everyone was being awkward. Rebekah tried to come talk to me but I told her it was okay and it wasn't a big deal and I'd come talk to her when I felt a little better.

I went back to the guest bedroom and stared up at the ceiling. There weren't TV's in the rooms nobody used and I didn't have anything to do on my phone after the first couple hours so I just laid there.

When it got dark again a knock sounded at my door and Klaus came it. I didn't look over at him as he sat down beside me on the edge of the bed. His hand moved to touch me, stroking my palm and my fingers.

"Did you sleep with her?" I whispered, a little scared to ask.

"Not...technically" He muttered, his voice hesitant and guilty.

I didn't want to ask what that meant. Did he finger her? Eat her out? Did she suck him off and make out with him while convincing him to leave me for her? Was he here to break it off with me so he could just be with her?

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked, a feeling of indifference bleeding through me as a numbness protected my heart. It was quiet for a moment before he spoke.

"I don't ever want you to leave." He whispered. "I shouldn't have ever gone to her house especially when I was angry already. I ended up drinking so much..." He trailed as if remembering something. I sighed and stared into space.

"It's fine." I whispered and he squeezed my hand.

"What?" He asked and I shrugged.

"You haven't wanted to be with me for a while now...I just loved you too much to let you go but I don't have to let you go anymore, you left instead."

His fingers interlaced with mine but I didn't hold his hand back.

"I haven't stopped loving you." He admitted but I wasn't really sure I could trust whatever he said.

"You just love her too." I muttered.

"No, I don't love her. I truly don't. I don't know what's wrong with me but I know I'm wrong and I know I'm hurting you and out of all the people in my life, you are someone I never want to hurt so..." He paused for a second and I forced my eyes not to weep. "So I'm gonna do whatever you need me to do. I know we can't be together...I've broken your trust and I can't get it back until...well I don't know if I can."

"I'll just pack my things." I whispered.

"I can give you money to help-"

"I don't want your money, or your help. I just need you to leave me alone, I can't see you with her- I can't see you period." I told him.

I could physically feel my mental walls building up around me.

He left me alone a moment later and stayed out of sigh as I stuffed all my things into a case and called a cab.

It was a hotel I stayed in for a few days before I found a shitty motel that allowed long-stay for little money while I applied for jobs.

I was on my way to a work interview when I saw Klaus again. It had only been two weeks and I knew I looked shit. The shower at the motel was inconsistent of when it wanted to work, there was no hairdryer and I didn't have anything to straighten it or products to let it stay curly so it was just frizzy and I had no makeup or money to buy it so I looked as tired as I was due to the pathetic excuse of a mattress I was sleeping on. How I was going to get any job looking like I did would be a miracle or a massive pity party.

Klaus looked as perfect as ever, not a hair out of place when his eyes met mine across the street. He was there with Rebekah and I felt his gaze drift over me even after I kept walking away.

Part of me just wanting to feel his arms around me. But I knew that was wrong and I needed to get through this and he couldn't help with that. I wasn't sure anything could help, even if I had a new job and a beautiful house with a loving faithful family and two healthy children, I don't think I'd be able to look at Klaus and not wonder why I couldn't be enough for him.

If I wasn't enough for him, would I be enough for someone else?

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save-the-villainous-cat · 7 months ago

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With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.

The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.

For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.

“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.

It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.

And they were close. So close.

Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.

The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.

“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.

“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”

They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.

With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.

Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.

“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”

The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.

It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.

“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”

The hero frowned.

“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”

The hero chuckled tiredly.

“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”

“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.

The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.

“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”

“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”

The villain cupped their face. “With what?”

“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”

“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”

“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.

“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”

The hero nodded.

“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”

#shake baby baby shake bis uns der Himmel auf den Kopf fällt #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #h/c

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mcflymemes · 4 months ago

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NATIONAL TREASURE (2004) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm gonna steal it.

who wants to go down the creepy tunnel inside the tomb first?

if it's any consolation, you had me convinced.

you're not hurt, are you?

i am so getting fired for this.

is there a question in there?

we have no money.

how about a bribe?

it was cool. you should try it sometime.

we can't go back there.

i've never been so happy to be proven wrong.

you handled that well.

are you trying to steal that?

it's thirty-five dollars.

you know the key to running a convincing bluff? every once in a while you've got to be holding all the cards.

stop talking. start the van.

you're treasure hunters, aren't you?

i'm still working on it.

why don't you just come back down here and we can talk through this together.

don't speak again.

is that the hot girl?

are you with me?

what do you think? i'm a hostage.

do you trust me?

once we catch them, what do we do?

is this real?

i made something for you.

tell me what i need to know.

just another clue.

i can explain, but i don't have time.

i wasted 20 years of my life, and now you've destroyed yours.

what was the secret?

i found something!

i broke a shoelace this morning.

it can't be done.

i understand your bitterness. i really do.

i want you to have a chance to do that.

i've got some duct tape in the back.

promise you won't be any trouble.

i finally figured it out.

the treasure is a myth.

we need more juice.

you're all lunatics!

still a little on edge from being shot at, but i'll be okay. thanks for asking.

see? okay? now could you please stop shouting?

give me that!

you would do well, [name], to be a little more civilized in this instance.

who were those men?

we did the only thing we could do to keep it safe.

we probably deserved that.

i was thinking, what if we go public? plaster the story all over the internet.

it's not like we have our reputations to worry about.

people don't talk that way anymore.

beautiful, huh?

i have no idea what you said.

if there's something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action.

what do you see?

what time is it now?

we missed it.

i know something about history that you don't.

i'd be very excited to learn about it.

hold on one second. let me just take in this moment.

this is cool. is this how you feel all the time?

[name], you're a genius.

how do a bunch of guys with hand tools build all this?

the aliens helped them.

i volunteered.

it's invisible.

i'm sorry for your suffering.

when are we gonna get there?

i'm hungry. this car smells weird.

i'm so sorry i dropped you.

i would have done exactly the same to you.

why can't they just say "go to this place, here's the treasure, spend it wisely?"

anyone crazy enough to believe us isn't gonna want to help.

we don't need someone crazy.

[name], are you crying?

look. stairs.

i'm guessing that's significant.

i'm just trying to hide from my ex-husband.

stay as long as you like.

you want something?

i see what you left him.

this isn't a day for "um."

we didn't find the information credible.

well, this might be possible.

i leveled with you one hundred percent.

everything i told you was the truth.

it's not a conspiracy theory.

you know what? i take it back.

i'm in a little trouble.

this... is huge.

you are gonna go to prison. you know that, right?

that would bother most people.

you know what you have to do.

i'm just trying to think if there's anything else we could do.

i'm not letting it out of my sight.

how do you look?

a toast to high treason.

here's to the men who did what was considered wrong in order to do what they knew was right.

why do you need them?

look... this is a waste of time.

i'm still not against you.

i really couldn't accept something like this normally.

we don't actually have it.

did bigfoot take it?

is there a door that doesn't lead to prison?

get out of there. get out of there now!

[name], can you hear me?

can i marry your brain?

our evil plan is working.

why does that never happen to me?

meet me at the car. call me if you have any problems.

no broken bones?

a jump like that could kill a man.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #national treasure #rp ask meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #ask meme #rp starters #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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amuyyi · 3 months ago

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she wants me (to be loved) .

synopsis; you have always loved huh yunjin, but not in the way she loved you.

trope; huh yunjin x f!reader, angst, unrequited (?) love, bittersweet ending

wc; 4.6k

cw; idk like one cuss word LMAO

a/n; i swear im still in forever writers block but THIS FIC IS INSPIRED BY THE SHE WANTS ME TO BE LOVED WARRIOR CATS AMV ON YOUTUBE ITS ABOUT BLUEFUR AND THRUSHPELT PLEEEEK WATCH IT AND/OR LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING IM JUST SO ARRGGHHH also its almost 4 am i am half asleep i just realllyy wanted to finish this. also i used to be a theatre kid so.

You have always loved Huh Yunjin. But not in the way she loved you.

You recall very vividly the first day you met her.

It was the middle of freshman year of high school, and you had just moved into New York from out of state. Your father had just gotten a new job opportunity, and practically wasted no time packing all of your things to move in the middle of the school year. Perfect. New place, new faces, and definitely no friends. Everything an emotional teenage girl needed in a cruical stage of her development. All of the other students in your classes were nice enough, but everyone already had their established friend groups by now, and you simply didn't fit what they were looking for.

Despite the different environment, there was one thing that this school provided that provided some sort of familiarity.

Theater.

Back in middle school and for the brief semester you had in your old high school, you had always been a fan of the big stage. The music, the dramatics, the acting… It was all so whimsical and alluring to you. How could you not get involved?

(Okay, honestly.. You had gotten really into musical theater in middle school once you found a Hamilton animatic and it became your sole personality trait for a good two years or so–)

Unfortunately, you were too much of a coward to truly put yourself out there like the actors around you. High school insecurities and poor self esteem truly did take its toll on you back then. So instead, you settled for being part of the stage crew.

You thought that getting involved with a club would make it easier for you to socialize and make friends. You could join a community. Yet somehow, it made everything all the more difficult.

Everybody seemed to already know each other and have their own established friends. On top of that, everyone also seemed to know who they hated as well. You would always overhear what other actors and techies would say about one another and it only just put you off from making friends even more. The whole environment was incredible… cliquey.

Still, you had nothing else better to do, so you stayed. It was… Fine. You still had no real friends, but you did enjoy doing various tasks around the stage. Working with stage lights, helping prepare costumes, painting backdrops. It keeps you busy. It was routine.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to walk in on actors practicing their lines or their songs backstage. Back home, you knew everyone involved within the production– including the actors. You would always compliment them and occasionally even provide help whenever you didn’t have your own techy jobs to fulfill. The main problem? This isn't home. Nobody here was your friend.

But when you found a pretty girl practicing for this semester's production of Phantom of The Opera in an empty hallway, you couldn't help but stop in your tracks and stare. You’ve never seen her before. Well, it's not like you bothered to pay much attention to the people around you anymore— but you feel like you wouldn't miss a face like hers.

She had the prettiest brown hair with highlights and the cutest beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. She was pacing around the hall, script in hand as she did various vocal exercises. The sound of her voice echoes off the walls, and it was just as angelic as she looked.

“Prima Donna, your song shall live again…!” She sings out, her voice at a steady yet powerful vibrato throughout her verse. Her Bel Canto was skilled and practiced, and you can't help but wonder how long she’s been doing this for. Surely she’s overqualified for a simple high school production? You needed to hear more…

She moves her hands in elegant and dramatic forms as she immerses herself into the self-centered character of Carlotta. She played the roke perfectly, considering how most definitely had your attention now.

“You took a snub, but theres a public who needs you, think of the cr—“

A loud thud rings throughout the hallway, startling the mystery opera singer as well as yourself. Shit. You look down and see the culprit. Well, it was you. you caused the interruption— but more specifically, it was a freshly decapitated mannequin head with a wig you were going to more securely attach to the top. It was a bit of a horrific sight, in all honesty.

Now that you think about it, this prop might actually be for her. Though you didn't have much time to ponder that thought considering the mysterious brown haired beauty has now caught you eavesdropping on her singing.

The head rolls across the tile floor and lands at her feet. You feel your face warm to what was most likely a bright tomato red as she picks it up by its shortened neck, the wig threatening to fall off as it dangles limply off of the top of its head.

“I'm assuming this is yours?” She smiles kindly at you, though a bit wary. Understandable, really. You would be wary of yourself too if you were in her shoes.

“Y-Yeah, sorry…” you nervously laugh, taking the head from her hands as you try to pat the wig back into place.

“You sounded good, by the way!” You quickly stammer out, absentmindedly hugging the head to your chest, “Like… really good. Seriously.”

The mystery girl laughs at your flustered words, and she waves her hand dismissively. Her cheeks warm bashfully as she shakes her head.

“Thanks but… I have a lot to work on. My tones off, and I still need to memorize these lines by tomorrow…” she trails off, moving to press her back against the wall, sliding and sitting down on the floor.

Fiddling a bit with the mannequin head, you don't allow yourself to think too hard before you suddenly blurt out.

“I-I can help!”

You watch as her pretty brown eyes widen slightly, and

“Really? You sure you arent too busy?

You were actually quite busy, but she didnt have to know that.

“Of course not,” you lie confidently, sticking a hand out, “I’m y/n.”

She eyes your hand curiously, but ultimately shakes it, “Yunjin. Jennifer, if you’d like.”

From then on, you would spend every other day after school with Yunjin, helping her recite her lines, fitting her for costume changes, and even finishing that mannequin head prop for her.

Soon after, your after school hangouts turned into out of school hangouts and then eventual sleepovers every weekend. You learned everything possible about Yunjin. Like how she had always dreamed of being a performer, how she wanted to make it big in the Kpop industry, how she loves snakes…

Since then, you knew you loved her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

On one seemingly normal spring afternoon, you were abruptly torn away from your sunkissed siesta with the sound of your door being kicked open.

With the growing bond between you and Yunjin, you made the mistake of giving the girl a spare key to your own home. (Oddly enough, your parents werent against the idea. They considered Yunjin like a second daughter.)

You whine out as she grasps at your half asleep form, shaking you aggressively.

“I got accepted into a company, y/n!! I'm gonna be a trainee!”

Eyes shooting open, you try to sit up through the aggressive grip Yunjin had on you.

“No kidding?” You croak out, looking at her with disbelief.

“I'm not!” She cheers, bouncing happily through your bedroom. Trying to match her energy through the grogginess, you slip out of bed, stumbling a bit as you tumble into her arms. Yunjin laughs at your state, wrapping her arms around your waist to keep you steady as she jumps excitedly.

“I’m going to move back to Korea next month— this is so exciting!!” She squeals out, and your smile falters ever so slightly. Move? To Korea?

Still, you bite back the sickly feeling developing in your stomach as you squeal alongside her.

You were happy for her, and did nothing but support her all throughout her time in Korea. Called her every night after training, sent her pictures of school life without her, even voting for her in that odd survival show she participated in. You did anything and everything you could to be the best friend you could be.

Yunjin always had the stars in her eyes. But in yours? There was only ever her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The day that everything truly changed is still fresh in your mind.

After spending years chasing after Yunjin, it feels like you have finally caught up to her. She's back in the states after her time in Korea, and she's planning on staying. She looked a little different than before, but it was the same old Jennifer you knew and loved— even when missing a few moles and deeper eyebags.

Upon her arrival back home, it was like no time had passed. Once again attached at the hip, as it should be. You practically made it your job to crawl into her skin at any given moment and to pamper her with all of her favorite things.

You would treat her to meals, spontaneous shopping sprees, and simple girls nights out. All of the good stuff to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, your attempts to keep your best friend happy came with their own obstacles. you would occasionally find advertisements or clips of idols that would show up during your time together, and for just a brief moment, you would see that usual spark within Yunjin’s eyes falter. It was a stark reminder of what she could have had.

It hurt you to see her get reminded of her time as a trainee. It truly was everything she wanted and more. But it was okay, you were here now, and you weren't planning on letting her go this time.

You’d drop any and everything for Yunjin. You allowed her to vent whenever she needed, to come over whenever she wanted, and to indulge in spontaneous late night meals whenever you two felt like it.

Needless to say, your wallet was crying by the time summer was nearing its end, but you didn’t mind at all. Yunjin was back. She was happy. You were happy. Things were finally returning to normal.

The two of you decide on a college to attend together in Boston, both pursuing a major in business. It's neither of your first choices in majors, but it's a good enough money maker in the long run.

The pair of you sat in Yunjins bedroom, with you comfortably propped up against her bedframe on the floor whilst the brunette lay comfortably on the mattress. You hugged the djungelskog plushie you had gifted Yunjin some birthday ago close to your chest as you atared at your phone, with Yunjin crunching away on cheez-its as the entire La La Land soundtrack softly plays from the record player in the corner of the room.

Its nearly less than a month until move in day at Boston University, and you feel beyond giddy. Actual independence? And spending it with your best friend slash secret crush? Your dreams were coming true. Looking through your college dorms on the website, the pair of you converse about the future.

“What kind of theme do you think we should go for our dorm?” you ask, leaning your head against the bed to look up at Yunjin, who was still crunching away contentedly at her snacks.

“I'm not sure… But I do know I want to cover my wall with all of my posters…”

“Ooh! Yeah!! I can add fake flowers on the walls…”

“ Of course, we need a bit of girlish charm— oh! we need to make room for a record player and my guitar.”

“Google maps says there's a 7-eleven near the campus…” you murmur, your short attention prompting you to immediately shift to another topic.

“ Should we go got late night snack runs?”

“Duh.”

“Or maybe if we get tired of the dorm food, we can get equally as crappy convenience store food for instead–”

Suddenly, the music from Yunjin’s phone gets cut off, being replaced with her ringtone (it was Come Inside Of My Heart by IV of Spades ) as she huffs.

“ sorry, hold that thought..” She murmurs, answering the call.

You didn't know any Korean, the only bits you’re familiar with are the phrases Yunjin taught you to talk with her parents (which you also butchered) so you naturally begin to tune out whatever she begins to say on her end. Despite this though, you easily pick up on the shift in tone as she speaks. Professionalism, skepticism, to Shock. That was all you could read off of Yunjin as you looked up from your phone, curiously glancing at her. Her eyes were boggling out of her skull, and she placed a hand over her mouth before ending the call.

The brunette remains frozen in place, hand still over her mouth as a silence passes over the room.

“So….?” You ask, crawling up onto the bed to sit next to her.

Yunjin’s voice is shaky, yet laced with a twinge of excitement and disbelief as she speaks, “I just got a call from Hybe. I… I have the chance to debut.”

You don’t know what came over you at that moment. It felt like the world came collapsing down on you. Right now, you should be happy. Jumping for joy, focusing all on Yunjin and her chance for success. She's been given a real chance to make her dreams come true, even after it seemed impossible, even after all the years of rejection and work. This was all she wanted in life and more— you should be happy? Right?

But you’ve always been a selfish person. Or maybe you convinced yourself you were ever since that day. You don’t know. Maybe in that moment, you realized you could lose everything you’ve been waiting for. You’d lose the girl you've chased after for so many years now. If you didn't do something now, you wouldn’t have the chance to do it ever again. You were a greedy person, so you confess.

“Yunjin, I love you. I always have.”

The words feel like a slap to the face, and it shows. It shows in the way her eyes widen and smile falls. This was a bad idea, but you can't back out now. Your eyes begin to water as your voice cracks.

“I… I don’t want you to go— to leave me…” you choke out, “What about uni? Our dorm? What am I going to do without you?”

You knew you were being manipulative, you knew you were being selfish. But you didn’t care. You wanted her to know how you truly felt. You didn’t want her to leave you, not again. Your heart couldn’t handle it.

Through tears threatening to spill out, you can see her cheeks slowly dust a faint shade of pink as she processes your words. She seems… hesitant. Over what? You weren’t too sure. You weren’t too sure if you even wanted to know.

The silence that washes over the two of you is beyond suffocating. You feel like you’re drowning, digging your nails into your palms as you look away. If you looked at her, you were scared you’d break, and the tears would begin to flow. After a few moments that feel like hours, she finally responds.

“I believe you have feelings for me…” she begins, voice soft yet strained. For some reason, those words leave a bad feeling in your gut. You muster up enough courage to meet her gaze. She looked just as hurt and conflicted as you felt. Yunjins grip on her phone tightens as she takes a deep breath, continuing, “...but I can’t give this up, y/n. It's my dream.”

That was the moment you knew you truly lost her.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In another life, you and Yunjin would be at Boston University together, pursuing that business degree that neither of you want.

It's a dream that used to occasionally return to you when Yunjin was overseas. Every now and then, you’d wake up in a cold sweat, and you’d check Yunjins location. She’d still be in Seoul. It was okay though, because you knew she’d always come back. She always came back. Now it haunts you every other night.

The dream is always so incredibly vivid and real. You would wake up to Yunjins many alarms that she somehow manages to sleep through every single time, and you’d peel your eyes opened to your shared dorm room. Though you didn’t have much time to admire the beauty of it all through the sound of an alarm continuously dragging you out of your slumber. She’s always been a heavy sleeper. you’d have to jump on Yunjins sleeping form to even stir her into some form of consciousness.

Yunjin groaned in protest, but you knew her. She wasn’t truly bothered, not when it came to you. Instead of entertaining your futile attempts to wake her up, she would wrap her arm around your waist, dragging you down with her as you squeal out.

She's warm. Her brown bobbed hair has grown out by now, black roots peeking through the top of her head as you join the mess that is her bed (and hair.) She smells like vanilla and wood, and you can't help but laugh into her embrace. You’ll be late to the dining hall for breakfast, but it doesn't really matter. There was a 7-eleven nearby that could provide breakfast while the two of you rushed to your classes– in which you had meticulously planned to have almost every single class together.

After a long day of school, you would return back to your dorm both collapsing on your respective beds as exhaustion settles in. It was decorated just the way you two liked it. With both boy and girl band posters littering the walls alongside some fake vines, flowers, and a multitude of polaroids you two have accumulated over the years.

Once the two of you move out of the dorms and graduate, you’d find an apartment to share. Dual income and no children, that was the way to live. Alongside a cat and a dog, of course. You’d have a black cat named Binx, and a golden retriever named Dug, something you two had discussed many times before.

It’s beyond perfect. You lay on the couch, comfortably in Yunjins arms as a blanket is lazily draped over your forms. Binx is settled upon your lap as Dug takes up the space on the rug. The tv is playing Coraline— a staple movie for you two, and you'd smile. Yunjin would lovingly return the grin, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

And then you’d wake up, the grim reality of your situation compared to your dream sending tears flowing down your cheeks. You’re constantly reminded how Yunjin wasn't yours. Not in this lifetime. And it hurt more than anything else.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You’ve always been there for Yunjin, both before and after she became famous.

In High school, you of course supported her throughout your brief time in the drama club. But you also provided a shoulder to cry on, a free source of math homework answers, a friend.

When she moved back to Korea to become a trainee, you helped her through the rough patches. Hours of dance training, rigorous workouts, and unhealthy dieting took a toll on her. But you were always there through the phone, no matter the time.

Even after her debut, you remained loyally by her side. Yunjin grew busier and more distant over the years, and it was understandable. You were busy too. With college, internships, and general “adulting,” it was a challenge to remain in contact. Still, when you two did find time to talk, Yunjin would tell you stories of her members, of the rumors and scandals that would plague the group. It hurt to see her hurting, especially knowing you couldn't be there for her like before. But you were glad to see her achieving all she wanted and more.

You hop into one of Yunjins late night livestreams (even if it was the morning for you.) It wasn’t like you couldn’t just call her whenever you wanted, but it was just another one of the little things you would do to continuously support your friend. Yunjin never made a scene whenever you popped in, but always made sure to look for your comments and read them out every single time.

“Sing something from Phantom or you’re lame?” She reads out, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as she does so.

The idol gives the camera a knowing look, one that only could be read by you, and you smile as she clears her throat. Phantom of the Opera is what brought you two together, after all. She spends a few minutes doing short vocal exercises to warm up her voice, and the sight is oddly nostalgic. Yunjin then sits up straight as she begins to sing, and you feel your heart twinge slightly at her song choice.

“Think of me,

Think of me fondly,

When we've said goodbye.

Remember me,

Once in a while,

Please promise me you'll try.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Now here you were, in a completely foreign country, placed in more than accommodating seats within the VIP section of this unfamiliar venue you’ve never even heard of before. There were hordes of men around you, all cheering in a deep voiced mass for the girls on stage. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, there was Yunjin. You watch her, shining brightly on stage whilst donning a fresh head of bright orange hair. It suited her. Her fiery passion, her fierce determination that got her here in the first place, her glowing smile. It was all only a physical expression of who she was on the inside.

Yunjin had insisted on getting you these tickets– even going out of her way to even cover part of your plane ticket here despite you having a very stable and office job now. You tried to tell her you were happy enough to see her from the nosebleed seats in the back, especially since it was all you could afford on such short notice. But she refused, pulling some strings to give you the best seats possible. She wanted you here. More than anyone else.

You’ve seen Yunjin perform before. How could you not? You could vividly recall the way she would sing out and capture the entire crowd’s attention from the stage of your high school’s auditorium. How she would perform with such confidence and precision, how she performed like she was made for this.

Things have changed a lot since then. There was no business college in your future together anymore. No planned dorms together. No more late night talks. No 7-eleven snack runs. Yet oddly enough, despite the changes, this was seemingly no different than before. Every person in the crowd was entranced, immediately allured by her natural charm and her passionate voice. You included. Just like those many years before, she still managed to have you bewitched on the sidelines while she chases after the spotlight.

So you cheer. Joining the roaring crowd as you call out Yunjins name, a bright smile playing on your lips as you do so. You’ve always been her biggest fan, after all. You swear you saw her make eye contact with you, seemingly providing her an energy boost as she sings out to the audience. She was beautiful, and she knew it.

Once the show is over, you find your way to the backstage area. You tried your best to explain to the security how you were friends with one of the members, and how she invited you back there. Unfortunately, your Korean was less than conversational, and you pretty much looked like an embarrassingly desperate and obsessive fan until Chaewon came and saved the day.

“y/n-nnie! Come, Come!! I saw you in the crowd!!” She chirps out sweetly, abruptly pushing past the guard and dragging you backstage, leaving the security both confused and a bit exhausted. This might not have been the first time the girls have tried to meet with their friends after performances.

There were people everywhere. Stage hands, stylists, makeup artists, and more, all rushing around you two and occasionally praising Chaewon. You felt beyond out of place, and probably looked the part too. Despite having Yunjin as a friend, you’ve never once felt like you were friends with a celebrity. She was simply your Jennifer, and that was more than enough. Being here though, you could truly see the extent of the impact she had on people. How so many people respected her and admired her.

Lost within your thoughts and observations of the crowd, you barely notice when Chaewon lets go of your arm, leaving you to fall victim to a bright orange mass stampeding your way. Without warning, you’re tackled into a hug by none other than Yunjin herself. You swear you see stars as the air gets forced out of your lungs.

“y/n!! You made it!!” She beams, giving you a firm squeeze pulling away to fully take in the sight of you. Her arms are still firmly wrapped around your form as her eyes almost sparkled with pure affection for you. Your cheeks warm at the contact, and you can't help but shyly avoid her gaze. Even after all of this time, she still has the same effect on you. After letting out a soft breath, she quietly murmurs, “I was singing for you, y’know.”

And your heart aches. Aches for what you two could have had. Aches for feelings she chooses not to reciprocate. You want to be angry with her. Despise her for leaving you behind and living this luxurious celebrity life.

Yet your heart also swells. Swells with pure affection for the girl you love. The way she holds you, how she insists on having you attend, how sweetly she says your name. All of it makes you crumble all too easily. She truly cares for you, and never let the fame change that. You truly were lucky to have her.

“Really, now? You sure you weren't singing for the sea of men you forced me to sit with?” You laugh out, gently shoving her, “I swear I heard a guy say he ditched a family dinner to be there.”

Yunjin loudly laughs at your comment as she shakes her head, “How about you come over to our dorms to celebrate tonight, yeah? We’ll even let you pick a movie – or I’ll make them watch whatever you choose… Please?”

You were a bit hesitant. These were Yunjin’s friends. You didn’t want to intrude, especially after a crazy night like this. Yet, despite your reluctance, Yunjin stares down at you with those damn puppy eyes, and somehow manages to get Eunchae and Chaewon to join in…

“... Okay, fine,” you groan out, feigning disappointment as you see Yunjins eyes light up. “but we’re watching Coraline.”

The girls all cheer and pull you into a tight hug, with Yunjin holding onto you just a bit tighter than the others.

Huh Yunjin loves you. But not in the way you want. Yunjin wants you to be loved.

And loved you are, even if it means she can't be yours.

#kpop fanfic #gg fanfic #kpop #kpop x female reader #gxg #kpop gg #kpop x fem reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #wlw #gxg imagine #yunjin x female reader #Spotify

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cloveroctobers · 26 days ago

Text

CUT TIES — Terry Richmond [Fall Crumbles] 🤎

A/N: There’s enough Terry to go around right? This is inspired by two things…OFC a song + taking another chance at writing something influenced by Love is Blind. Who saw that wasteful reunion?! Anyways that is what this is so get ready for angst.

WARNINGS: Reference to a intimate moment but a line at best?

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11:32pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I Need To Hear Your Voice…Can You Call Me?

Was the text message he sent you, which made you let out a long exhale.

11:43pm

TO: T. Richmond

I’m at work T [Deleted] Terry.

11:44pm

FROM: T. Richmond

I’m Aware. I’ll Feel Better When I Hear Your Voice…And I Know You’re Probably Saying That I’ve Got A lot Of Nerve To Say That To You Right Now…Yet This Will Always Be True, No Matter How Things Ended.

You were glad Terry can acknowledge that he did in fact have nerve requesting a call from you, when the both of you already had that final closure conversation weeks ago…however here he was back again, entering your life whenever he pleases.

Picking up your phone, after watching it ring for a while you debated about letting it go to voicemail honestly. You really didn’t need to hear many more angles about whatever situation Terry got fucked over in. Things seemed to be going well lately though, at least that’s what he tried to portray on social media…which was also new for him.

Always the type of man to be lowkey and out the way but after the exposure of being contestants on a certain love show, he stepped out just a little. It was never too much, Terry wasn’t the type of man to be in your face about his blessings but if things went south, then he had no problem stepping to you if common ground couldn’t be located.

“Hey,” He starts, his deep tone sounded as if he was ready to go to sleep, possibly lying down, whereas you were wired on your night shift, “Sorry for bothering you—

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but to let it slip through your lips, “Are you though?”

He hummed, “Nope, can’t say that I am, to be real with you.”

“Well, can’t ever say you failed at honesty.” You replied with a hint of sarcasm which made Terry chuckle humorlessly, “What’s up? What was so important that you needed to be on my hotline right now?”

It was Terry’s turn to roll his natural underlined eyes but he’s not trying to pick a fight or even think about you with someone else, “…the house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. The first person I wanted to talk to, to ease the loud silence…is you. I believe that’s how it’s always gon’ be.”

Not long after you called it quits, Terry closed on a house that he’s been eyeing long before he decided to go on the show. It was meant to be if they couldn’t get it sold. He of course talked to you about it once you were out of the pods, saying how some rooms needed Reno and asked your thoughts on if that could be your main home once married. Thankful that you already had your home that you owned at such a young age, You spoke about how much you already invested in your home and how you had no plans of selling just yet even if you two chose to get married.

Which isn’t something that he wanted you to do but questioned how this would work. He wasn’t down with sleeping in separate houses, although Terry knew it would take time to get everything right, the house he bought was livable and he wanted that with you.

Something that Terry always admired about you is, that you had your own mind and drive to do what you felt was best for you. He respected it, had to really learn how to when you said you two needed to put some distance between you after a final argument got too heated.

“…I’m sure you’ll get used to it at some point.”

“I don’t know if I agree with that.”

Terry listened to you sigh.

“I’m going to say something you won’t want to hear but I’m saying it anyway,” you start as you lightly flick your feathered pen back and forth at the desk, “You’re going to have to get comfortable being alone in that house, Terry. I know you’ve been used to being a lone wolf majority of the time…but you officially settled somewhere now and you’re building a life outside of the danger you once knew. Which I’m proud of by the way but you’re going to have to start finding comfort elsewhere or with yourself because I’m not going to provide that to you anymore.”

Terry was afraid that you were going to say this one day. Usually you both were good at having balance when your relationship was solid, giving each other the space needed and showing up when needed. Everything just took a turn once the chaos showed up again at Terry and his cousin, Mike’s business. This was the first time Terry ever lied to you and that came at multiple costs. It blew up in his face because leaving you in the dark and not communicating with his fiancée? led to being stalked and a home invasion that still haunted you.

Terry would always be sorry for that.

From bliss to passion to heat to closure to yearning. It was all stages of what this relationship was, for Terry it was the process of your love story whereas for you, it was part of your origin story.

“What if I say…I’m finding that’s not what I really want?” Terry speaks, “…That I don’t see much of a future without you in it? We talked through that hurdle, we wished each other the best after the reunion but what if that’s not enough for me? What if we’re each other’s best?“

This was another side you predicted would happen. One thing about you is, your mind was always turning just like the earth spinning on its axis. Which took another turn in your argument, speculating things that weren’t true once you found out that Terry lied about some new men targeting him. You predicted that once you both tried to move on and live without each other, the other would crack. It happened before, a month after the reunion when his aunt invited you to her forty-fifth birthday party. Your friends told you not to go and that night made you weak for Terry Richmond.

So weak you couldn’t feel your legs for days, Terry knew your body so well, had no problem burrying himself deep downstairs in his aunt’s basement, green hues trained only on you, while having your legs in the perfect V over his shoulders, and that man was a mountain.

A dangerous one.

Now it was your turn to fully stand on business and the year was coming to a close so you didn’t need Terry to find new ways in.

That was supposed to be understood but you both fumbled that at the party.

You had enough time to figure out what was best. Of course you experienced the what if’s yourself, been as loyal as they came but a structured life of constantly looking over your shoulder was just not it to you. To no longer feel safe with the man you thought you would grow old with. Now you had the world weighing in on what they’ve seen on their tv’s and online—you can handle challenges—you worked as a nurse on the oncology floor, however you have to be smart enough to realize when it was too much and that was enough to walk away.

“At a time we were,” you finally answered before reassuring, “Everything you’re feeling is valid. I hear you. I’ve been there and got through that. You will too.”

Terry’s silence was as potent on the phone as what he probably felt like the inside of his home was. The scratching of the branch that was too close to his bedroom window was similar to the clawing you were doing to his heart. He didn’t want to lose you for good, call him selfish but he didn’t want to just forget the unique connection you built.

Although he felt disrespected with the way you spoke (yelled) to (at) him during your breaking point, he was willing to come back and work through it but ultimately it felt like there was no trust there anymore. Terry did feel like you were looking for a way out because you two were “too” good together, unfortunately this was too big of a situation to come back from.

The stubborn one out of the two, Terry can sense that you already had your mind made up. Two tough conversations were had, one behind the scenes and another for streamers to dissect and formulate their own opinions on, should have been enough but Terry always kept his cards close. You were his most precious one, yet you were telling him how to store it away back into the deck for good.

“Is this really what you want? To fully walk away?”

A hint of annoyance hits you and could be felt as you start, “We went over this—

“So us going two rounds that day meant nothing?”

Sure it did.

“Terry that was goodbye, you had to have known that. The last hurrah. So let me make it clear this time without raising my voice because I know you hate that—and I’ve been working on it—I’m cutting ties.”

Half expecting the line to go dead, you still find yourself holding your breath as the quiet goes deadly silent. Until you hear shuffling on the other end, Terry’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, feeling a stress headache arrive right on both sides of his temples which then radiate to the back of his neck.

“I don’t want this to come off the wrong way…but I love you. I need you to know that.”

That was obvious but again, sometimes love isn’t enough.

“Don’t do that.”

“What’s that?”

“Trying to find other angles to make this work. We tried after the big argument—that spark isn’t the same and would never be the same.”

Terry huffs, “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough.”

Grasping at straws, was not necessarily in Terry’s nature. He also knew that statement was just not true. Both of you put your hearts on the line and this was something the both of you would have never taken so lightly.

“…don’t let your loneliness overshadow what can’t be managed. We been made our decision but this is me finally enforcing a boundary.” You inhale air through your teeth before continuing, “You are headstrong, very structured and lived a life that I know nothing about if it comes knocking at our door again. What happens if we brought kids into that? It’s not that I don’t believe you couldn’t keep us safe, it’s the fact that our lives would always be at risk even if it’s not something you intentionally brought to the table.”

“We take risks every time we step out the door. That’s what life is,” Terry tried to reason, “I tried to leave the life I lived prior behind me, which is why I like to keep to myself and not open up. You changed that. I know we’ve been over this countless of times…I just don’t know if I’m ready to completely cut the rope. To never have you around is…a scary thought.”

In a minute, it wouldn’t just be a thought.

“It’ll be as if before we met. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means but I’ve accepted the art of letting go. Ending access to each other for real this time, does not automatically mean we never loved each other or there isn’t any more love there. If we fell back into each other, it would be a repeat of all the pieces we wouldn’t want to live with. It’ll be hard to fake and deal with.”

“Deal with?” Terry echoed in a tone that oozed frustration, “I’d be willing to be a team.”

“Then why wasn’t that taken into consideration when those men shot up your business? Or me being stalked by one of those men at work? Then being followed home.” You felt your blood pressure rising at what you thought you forgave—but everything is a process, “Or when Summer and I went out to lunch, just to find out that she knew about the drive by before I did? Or how I almost got ran over on purpose in the parking garage at work? That didn’t feel like team work. I was in the dark when we needed to continue to be a piece of each other’s light from the damn sun rays. Being the last to know often, did not make me feel like a priority. I feel like that part of you, you wanted to shield me from all the time…so now I’m going to be a shield on my terms.”

Terry Richmond never wanted to be responsible for changing the trajectory of someone’s entire life in a negative way. Although you said the love shared wouldn’t just vanish, it did feel like you thought about it and had time to sit on it.

He could make this easy and give you what you wanted, should have and it was once something he actually agreed to. However people change their minds all the time and he never saw himself falling out of love with you.

It wasn’t about being trained, it was about being in love.

He clears his throat, “I had no intentions on making this conversation out to be difficult…I knew I’d get push back, it’s one of the things I love about you,” Terry says, “I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, that your voice is actually what makes me feel safe and probably always will. And that I hope I’d get the chance to love you more in every lifetime. That was part of what I wrote to you in our vows by the way and I still stand by those words. If I had more time, those words would be actions. I’d make up for it, if you just let me.”

Him saying that over the phone, did make you feel a way. It made the back of your eyes burn but the shield was already in the works of being fully up. You didn’t need to hear this, you never doubted Terry’s love for you but it was over, you had the scissors slowly running along what kept you connected. Terry didn’t get the choice to go back on the agreement, yes people change their minds all the time but there was no time to compromise.

“There’s no use in crying over spilled milk, Terry.” Is all you can say, leaving each other to listen to each other’s breathing before the man is finally hit with the call ending.

He’s left holding on tightly to his phone, taking in the sound of autumn’s whipping air outside of his home. Tossing the phone behind him on the bed, Terry gets to his feet, determination shining his in his eyes while he begins to put his mind elsewhere opposed to holding onto you.

As you sat at the front desk, you snapped out of the dissociation that wanted to creep in, to place your phone on charge. Then grabbed onto some scissors returning back to the craft project you were working on to help decorate this level of the hospital for the holidays.

Snip!

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More autumn anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #rebel ridge #aaron pierre #terry richmond #Terry Richmond x reader #fall writings #fall fanfiction #rebel ridge netflix #Aaron Pierre x reader #queued

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em-ontv · 27 days ago

Text

Reach for me.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!reader

Summary: he couldn’t love—or didn’t want to love, and you loved too much, so he did what he does best—push people away, push you away.

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, reference to physical violence (not to reader), internal conflict/self-loathing, self-sabotage (Ben), no use of y/n, English isn't my first language

A/n: okay, I was suppose to be working on 'sing a song for me" part 2 but I am very very stuck so I decided to write this. I promise it'll come out soon, I know it's been so long :'(

Word count: 1.2k

You thought you'd seen the worst of him already. The anger, the bitter sarcasm that he tossed carelessly, the silent stretches that left you feeling invisible. And it wasn't as though Ben was ever easy to love. He was a wreck half the time, and he did everything to make sure you knew you were disposable.

He had been in plenty of beds, all warmth and fleeting sighs—but empty. Nights were easy—it was everything that came after that he had no patience for.

Commitment? Stability? It wasn't his thing. He wasn’t the settling-down type, he’d tell himself. And he sure wasn’t made for a "forever." And yet… he’d come back to you, again and again, as if some part of him couldn’t help it. You, who’d been there in all those small, ordinary moments. The kind of quiet loyalty he didn’t know what to do with.

So, Ben had this way of making every little kindness of yours seem like it was nothing. A late-night meal you made him? "That all you got?" He would spit it right out. Patience with his anger? He'd scoff and say, "What, you really think you can fix me?"

And when you'd touch him, hand on his shoulder or your fingers tracing a line across his jaw, he'd look away, just enough so you'd see the faintest flicker of something. But then it would be gone, and he'd shut down again, like all the times before.

But you loved him anyway.

For some messed-up reason, you could see through it. Even when he pushed you away, you stayed. Patient, offering a love he didn't deserve—and he knew it himself.

Maybe it was your patience that made him resent you, that gentleness in your eyes when he spat venom at you. He had gotten used to people leaving the second they saw what a monster he could be, the second he showed them the violence he kept just under the surface. But you stayed, and he both loved and hated you for it, because you made him feel things he'd tried so hard to bury. And somewhere deep down, that terrified him.

Because Ben did love you. That was the worst part. He'd feel it sneak up on him in the quiet moments, when you were sleeping beside him, or laughing at something stupid he said or something he'd mumbled. He felt it every time he reached for you. He loved you in a way that made him feel vulnerable and open, like he had nothing left to hide.

Then came the night that changed everything. A night you'd never forget. When he came back stumbling in, blood on his knuckles and bruises across his jaw—he had gotten back from a fight. You took one look at him and knew he was aiming for another fight with you, eager to burn the only good thing he had left just to prove that he could.

He sneered at you, and you just waited, waited for him to burn out. And he did.

The sharpness and anger in his eyes burned till it was nothing but a wavering sight of lost and hurt, his body slumping against the wall and he couldn't bother to look into your eyes again. He might have broken down.

But then he did what he did best. Push people away.

"You think you love me? Fuckin' waste of time. I don't love, sweetheart. And it's pathetic that you keep hangin' on like this, thinking you're special." he spat, eyes filled with resentment when his eyes met yours again.

You held his gaze and didn't flinch. "I know you don't mean that."

That was when he snapped. His voice went cold, the kind of anger that ran deep. "Maybe you're just too stupid to get it. I don't want you here. Don't need you lookin' at me like I'm some fuckin' wounded dog." His words were harsh, but he knew they were bullshit, just another excuse he used to push you away.

And it worked. It worked.

Ben saw the way tears started to well up in your eyes as you stared at him, and that was what finally made him feel something close to regret. But he couldn't go back now. Couldn't unsay it. It would have been too painful to admit the truth, to admit that he was terrified.

So you left. Quietly, without another word, because there was nothing left to say. You just gathered your things, gave him one last look, and walked out, leaving him alone in that dimly lit apartment.

He'd won, hadn't he?

He had pushed you away. He got what he wanted. No more vulnerability, no more of that insufferable feeling of being known and loved despite everything he hated about himself.

He told himself he'd feel fine. After all, he'd done this before. He'd been alone, and he'd always been better for it. But lying in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he realized the silence around him had changed. It wasn't a silence he was used to—it was hollow, cold in a way he couldn't ignore.

Days passed, and Ben tried to drown it out, with alcohol, with meaningless fights he'd pick, with anything that might numb the ache, but they all just made it worse.

He'd find himself in the bathroom, throwing up from one too many drinks, and he almost missed the feeling of your hand on his back, rubbing soothingly as he heaved, your touch steady and comforting, even though he reeked of liquor and shame. When he was done, you'd wipe his face with a cold washcloth, taking care of him like he wasn't just some disaster you walked into.

He'd lie on the couch, afterward, barely conscious, the side of his head pressed against your lap as you stroked his hair. Even through that kind of haze, he'd feel your hand smoothing over his forehead, your thumb brushing against his temple.

Now he was throwing up by himself, sick and alone, and how he wished you were here with him right now. He'd lift his head up and catch himself looking over his shoulder, as if expecting you to be there for him, a hand rubbing his back through it all, like before. But you weren't.

He hated it. Hated how much he wanted that same kind of comfort again, that sense of security he let himself get used to. The same kind he didn't know he craved until you were gone. But most of all, he hated himself more for needing it.

He had pushed you away, and he really didn't have anyone to blame but himself, didn't he?

So he sat there, taking in the silence, the first time he's felt so... alone. He let himself feel it, the way you weren't there with him anymore. All the hurt and vulnerability, the pain he’d spent his life trying to shove down. He was alone, and he'd done it to himself. Because loving you had terrified him more than anything, and instead of facing that fear, he destroyed the one good thing he's ever had.

In the end, he did the one thing he was best at—and that was pushing you away.

#soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy angst #soldier boy x you #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys imagine #the boys au #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #jensen ackles

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misasimagines · 1 month ago

Text

least to most jealous! (Tokyo Debunker)

included characters: all of them except Subaru I'm so sorry!!!!

rating: Technically SFW but suggestive

warnings: unhealthy and toxic behaviors, some suggestive (sexual and violent) content though nothing graphic. GN reader.

Okay, some clarification:

Regarding Subaru: I HAVE to give a disclaimer here and say that I simply do not get him. I’m so sorry Suba fans. I just think he's lying and acting and I'm not comfortable writing for him when I can't figure out what his deal is.

I've been working on this for days and simply cannot perceive it any more so please forgive typos and... god everything else. It's so long.

I formatted it as "bad end" and "good end" so the bad ends are like the absolute worst and most exaggerated negative outcomes and behaviors while the good ends assume everyone behaves as if they are capable of being rational (which they are). This doesn't mean to romanticize any of the toxic behaviors, we're just having fun :)!

If you disagree.... [I am already laying dead on the floor]

Zenji

Bad End: You have to be the toxic one for a bad end and you have to be downright CRIMINAL to make Zenji break up with you. You have to be breaking his damn heart because he'll forgive you for so much. You could be having sex with a bunch of other people and plan the timing so he'd see it and he'd sadly be like, oh of course, I can't really show them that kind of affection the way that I am… I'm grateful they spend any time with me at all. If you do this to him, I'm killing you actually. If you cheat on Zenji, I'm coming out of your Tumblr browsing device like the girl from the Ring and I'm attacking you. He's TOO GOOD AND SWEET for you to do this to him 😡😡😡

Good End: He's very forgiving and understanding and doesn't really get jealous. If he's worried about you being unhappy with him or his situation, he will talk to you about it and give you 100 outs to break up with him amicably. If you refuse them all and tell him you don't want anyone else, he'll be overjoyed if not still feeling very bittersweet. Expect to hear a sad little poem or song about lovers doomed to live on opposite sides of mortality or something.

Jiro

Bad End: You’re going to have to be the toxic one here for a bad end and that bad end is very simple and succinct. He tells you that if you want to see other people, you can break up with him. And then he waits for you to respond because he’s not putting up with this. If you break up with him, that’s that, he’s washed his hands of you and is moving on. If you ask him out again later, he’ll just tell you he doesn’t have the time to waste on someone who’s so disloyal. If you don’t break up with him, and you are a cheating bastard, when he sees it (and he WILL, because his ass is NOT DUMB), he’ll break up with you and ask that you don’t bother him again. Further attempts at communication will be very brief.

Good End: He’s too straightforward for this. If he sees you being “too friendly” with someone, he will ask you point blank what was going on there. He doesn’t mind you being friendly or affectionate with other people, he doesn’t overreact when you get hit on, he doesn’t have a problem with you wanting to spend a night with friends instead of him. He’s just like, that’s fine. Bring a jacket because it’ll be cold. If you’re uncomfortable because someone’s hitting on you, he’s just like okay, I’m in the situation now, and that’s generally enough to stop anyone from being handsy or flirty with you because Jiro is like 6’6. Who’s trying to fight him, let’s be real. If they keep going he’s just like, okay I’ll take my s/o and go then. Just an unbothered KING. This is what you want in a man BELIEVE ME. He just behaves rationally and calmly even if he could chainsaw someone to death.

That being said, if he has to chainsaw murder someone to death, I don't think he'll feel that bad about it.

Bad End: He might pull some of his sickly old man cards out to be like ah, my dear, please don’t leave me today while my health is failing. You should cancel your plans and watch this Youtuber stream the process of building a house in the rain forest out of clay and sticks with me… I need you to take care of me... He just milks your sympathy for all he can get.

Good End: Really, he’s not TOO worried because he is immortal, he is a powerful vampire, and he does kind of want to have a degree of separation from you due to your fragile human mortality. I can’t imagine Ed being the most monogamous lover, and while he might not be interested in pursuing other people while he’s with you, I can see him adopting a stance of “you’re young, you should experience all life has to offer” in regards to your social life. He might poke at you like oh, did the young lad you went to see a movie with take adequate care of you or do I need to make up for his inexperience now? He’s not too worried if you go elsewhere, he has time, he’ll be the most serious love in your life at least.

Luca

Bad End: He jumps to conclusions, big shocker. He reads into your emotions and expressions and uses them as evidence to prove his own beliefs. He thinks he's doing right by you, protecting you, when he sees you frown while talking to someone or recoil when they try to touch you and immediately jumps in to protect you. He scolds people and doesn't hesitate to start and end a fight if they react aggressively. But also…he perceives a lot more danger towards you than there is, and can't always differentiate his jealousy and your actual safety. You end up with a lot of friendships being destroyed by your knight in shining armor who can't stop threatening people with bodily harm if they don't back away from you. When he sees this bothering you, he stops intervening on your behalf when you can see it and starts doing it behind your back. You're just weaker, it's fine, he's stronger and it's his duty to protect you even if you don't always agree with it.

Good End: He still jumps to conclusions and assumes the worst, but you can talk him down. No, Luca, one unhappy expression doesn't mean this person has dishonored me and my entire family. You don't need to pull your swords out! He is a gentleman more than anything and doesn't want to burden you with his own insecurities, so he tries to hold back and only brings things up to you when he's too worried to be quiet. Admittedly, it's not super often that he's jealous. He wants to think the best of you and doesn’t think that you’d actually reciprocate any of the advances that anyone makes on you. He would not date someone who he doubts is capable of loyalty. Also, he's so focused on his own goals, sadly you are kind of a second priority to him even if he would never admit it to you or himself.

Alan

Bad End: He's more protective and suspicious than jealous and does get it into his head that you're fragile and delicate and anyone could hurt you. He worries that you can't see the dangers he can, so he just…happens to be nearby when you're out for friends, just in case. He wants to know where you'll be so he can come get you immediately if something happens. And if someone does cross your boundaries, if they lay a hand on you, if he sees you look scared or uncomfortable? He'll comfort you after they're dealt with. Just don't be scared of him, you might not have known you were in danger, but he knew what they were thinking and planning and they won't ever be able to threaten you again.

Good End: He isn't the most technologically adept so he does want your itinerary before you go out without him. It is for safety and not jealousy, because he truly doesn't get jealous too often. He trusts you and he trusts your judgement, he has to or else he wouldn't be dating you. He WILL still step in the second he sees that you're uncomfortable, and he WILL lay a bitch out if necessary, but it's normally enough for him to just walk up to you to get anyone to back off. He still wants to set certain boundaries, like he doesn't like you going out at night alone because it's dangerous, not because he's afraid you're meeting your secret lover. If he had that many doubts about your loyalty, he would just break it off.

Haku

Bad End: You really are the forgiving type, huh? Oh, you don't know what that person did? Well, he really shouldn't tell you if you don't know. It'll come out if it has to, right? Just be careful around them. - That's what he does. He sows seeds of doubt in your relationships, so carefully that you don't even realize it's a pattern and eventually you're really not sure who to trust. Haku is always honest with you though, so you can trust him, and if he gives you a pitying look when you say you've made a new friend with someone, it's probably safest to drop them before they hurt you. He really isn't the most jealous, so he doesn't do this too often, but he does it whenever he is, whether he feels guilty for it or not. Ultimately, he IS just protecting you. They might not have done anything to hurt you YET, but they probably would if he didn't step in.

Good End: Otherwise, he's really pretty chill. He believes in your right to agency and if you do ever break any boundaries, he'll talk to you about it and decide if it's something he can live with. It's not like he's a saint. The charming, flirtatious comments come out naturally and he won’t stop complimenting the cashier/waitress/etc if it means getting a discount or better service. That benefits you, too! So what if he makes a few jokes about “my s/o saw you from across the bar and really digged your vibe” and the like. He isn’t serious, not like he is with you, and he’s happy to spend all night proving it to you.

Ritsu

Bad End: Somehow he knows everything about everyone you've been around, talked to, dated, etc. He's pulling receipts. You spent 20 minutes talking to X. Tell me what it was about. You went to this place before our date but it's outside of your routine and I don't see any reason for you to have been there. Please explain clearly why you went and what you did there. He probably has a full dossier on you and he keeps it meticulously updated and you can know about it if you want, but it's probably beyond your understanding so he'll only let you glance at it before he's locking it back up. He wants to draft up contracts, probably, and might even try to get restraining orders for you against people he feels are threats to you and your relationship. And if you're upset about it? Well, you already agreed to section 14 clause B, so if you break up with him now you'll suffer the consequences of breaching your contract. What are the consequences? That's another thick binder, you don't need to read it because you won’t have anything to do with it as long as you don't break your obligations to him.

Good End: He's still very organized and detail oriented, but he's also like: Okay, if I have proof of you cheating, I'm obligated to break our contract- I mean relationship. Essentially the same thing. He doesn't feel as much of a need to obsessively watch over you since he feels confident in the terms he laid out and your verbal agreement to abide by them. If you hang out with someone else, you should tell him what went on and know that if you're found committing perjury or in contempt of the court (okay Ritsu, same thing), then he's breaking up with you. He trusts you but still needs clear communication.

Tohma

Bad End: He always knows where you are and who you’re with and he knows everything about them, too. Interesting that you were hanging out with a known playboy, did you really think he cared about you or are you just as bad as he is? No, that’s not an insult, he’s merely asking. - Tohma asks leading questions and gets you confused so you end up saying exactly what he wants you to say, even if it’s not the truth. Yes I was no I wasn’t here or there or?? And then he’s holding your hand delicately and kissing the back of it and telling you not to worry so much, it’s easy to make mistakes, but that’s why he’s here to help you. For most of the people he doesn’t like you hanging around, he has a reason to convince you to stay away from them. He's not above paying someone off or threatening them or blackmailing them to stay away from you. You get so flustered and upset when you’re confused and uncertain, so he’ll just take all of that uncertainty out of your life. If that means that all you have is him and his hand selected friend group for you, that’s good enough for you both, right?

Good End: He’s still surveilling everything and somehow knows that that person you’re talking to has 2 DUIs, but he just offers this information to you when he really thinks it's dangerous. Like, if you’re hanging out w/ Mr. Drink and Drive, he won’t necessarily say anything unless you’re going to be going out with him to drink and or drive somewhere. In which case, Tohma will tell you that he uncovered some concerning information about their ability to drink responsibly and ask that you use your best judgement. If you choose to still go somewhere potentially dangerous with them, he’ll just do what he has to to keep you safe there and make his disagreement known, but he won’t force you to do anything unless he really thinks that you are walking into inevitable danger. It’s really less jealousy and more being an overbearing and overprotective boyfriend who would baby proof your apartment for you if you so much as tripped over your own misplaced shoes once.

Sho

Bad End: It starts with you hanging out as a trio: Sho, Leo, and you. It's fine at first, and he pretends it doesn't bother him when Leo is snuggling up to you or jokingly calling you their s/o. He just pulls you away and holds you close and tells Leo to back off and Leo laughs and acts like he wasn't even being serious. And then you have inside jokes with Leo, and not him, and you're invited to hang out with Leo alone, and sometimes Sho walks into a room and he SWEARS that you two were talking about him before he walked in. Over time, he can't help but feel every action of possession towards you is just humoring Leo, who really has you, but he also knows the second he stops wanting you or admits his loss, Leo will get bored and throw you aside like an old toy. Only Leo doesn't let his toys go for someone else to pick up and enjoy. He breaks them so no one would ever be able to love them again. So Sho stays and deals and shares you and never feels like he really ever has you, but he can't let you go or you'll be ruined forever.

Good End: He's not too worried. He does his own things, has his own friends, his own plans, and he'd kind of think less of you if you lived exclusively for him. If you want to go out with friends, even if it's with other guys, he's fine, he just makes sure to kiss you extra messily before you part ways for the night and tells you you better not go forgetting about him while you're away. As if you could after that. The only person he kind of gets bothered by is Leo, and that's more for your safety than because he's afraid of you cheating on him or falling for Leo. He knows him and he knows that even though Leo is his friend, maybe even specifically because he is, he wouldn't hesitate to use and manipulate you. So Sho tells you to keep your distance (as much as that's possible) from him. He does also want to meet anyone that you get close to are already are close to, partially to make his own judgement about their intentions and partially to be ready to put on a show of treating you better than they ever could.

Haru

Bad End: Two words: Guilt Trip. Oh, you wanted to hang out with someone else today? That's fine! He'll tell Peekaboo and the other animals you're too busy to see them. They're animals so they won't really understand, but he'll do his best to love them enough for the loss in your affection. And wow, that other friend of yours, you hang out with them a lot. Should he be worried? Haha! Just a joke! He wasn't serious, you're responsible and you wouldn't abandon him and everyone else when they need you. You're not a bad person like that. - So you end up canceling plans with other people and staying with Haru. You can't stand putting more on his plate… he also has a tracker on your phone and asks where you were in a casual way so if you say something else, he's like. Weird! That's not what I thought, but you'd never lie to me, so I guess I can trust you! (He does not.) It just gets to the point where you’re not sure how much he knows, because he never really admits how much he does, but he always seems to know more than he’s letting on.

Good End: He doesn't MEAN to guilt trip you with sad pictures of Peekaboo when you're out with other people, he does just miss you and he's worried he's too much for you to handle and feels like he has to convince you that you love him. You can tell him he doesn't have to worry about it, you like spending time with him and he's your priority, but just like he needs to sometimes put his job first or go hang out at Rui's bar, you need to spend time with other friends and do things on your own! He still can be a bit clingy, wanting to know where you are, who you’re with, making sure they’re not hitting on you or anything because he KNOWS you’re a catch, but you can just calmly redirect that energy and he’ll cool himself off. He’s not unreasonable!

Lyca

Bad End: He's a territorial dog through and through. He doesn't like anyone touching what is his, he doesn't want anyone encroaching on your space, and he is very sensitive to you smelling like anything he isn't familiar with. He will cause a fuss and jump to violence if someone gets handsy with you, even if it's innocent, friendly, and consented to by you. A friend hugs you? No, nope, that's not okay. Your HIS favorite and no one is going to take you from him. Mostly, it stems from a place of fear of losing you, of being abandoned again. He doesn't see you as completely innocent the way some of the others might, and it's a toss up whether he's mad at you or mad at the other person. Why would you try to leave him? Why would you let someone take you away from him? Why does everyone abandon him?? Even at his worst, I don't see him wanting to lock you away or anything since he knows from experience how awful that is, but he would insist on accompanying you everywhere.

Good End: He's still a dog and he's still afraid of you leaving him, but he has people like Subaru who talk him down and convince him that it's okay if you have other people in your life! Lyca does too, and that doesn't make you less meaningful to him. He doesn't like strangers (to him) getting too close to you, so you really do have to do that introducing him through a door to your other friends thing, the same as you would for a new pet. And you probably have to make some allowances around letting him take some of your clothes to snuggle up with when you're away.

Kaito

Bad End: Everyone is a threat to his relationship with you and he’s a swinging pendulum between overreacting on the spot and trying a number of things to prove you’re with him OR going home and sobbing into his pillows, preparing for the inevitable “we should see other people” text. He will overreact, realize he overreacted, and then send you a slew of texts apologizing, explaining himself, apologizing for the mass of texts, and then being like oh haha lol my phone fell and typed all that, you can just delete those texts… He gets really stuck in his head about it all and will start begging you to not leave him and just tell him what he can do to be good enough for you. It doesn't matter what you say, how many friendships you cut off, how much time you spend with him- he's never going to think he's worthy enough for you and he's never going to trust that you aren't trying to move on.

Good End: He still struggles with trying to prove his worth and being very easily upset about perceived disloyalty. He's easier to talk down though, and you just need one good conversation to tell him that you love him, you want to be with him, and if he feels threatened or unsure, he should tell you first and not try to “fix” problems in your relationship that aren't even there. He feels better after that, and he has a long way to go to gain more self confidence and even trust in others, but he definitely can do it with time and effort.

Rui

Bad End: He's very torn. On one hand, he loves you, he's grateful for you being in his life, and he knows if he COULD, he'd take such perfect care of you that you wouldn't even be able to think about leaving him for anyone else. On the other hand…he knows he has one big limitation, and hates to think that you would suffer from his curse as well. So he convinces himself that it's fine if you're intimate with someone else. He can't touch you, but that doesn't mean you should go untouched. He'll agree if you want an open relationship and it will absolutely devastate him but he'll smile through it. He'll just be perfect whenever you're with him, never disagreeing, always complimenting and praising you, never giving you any reason to want to leave him. It gets to the point where he's acting in every single situation with you, completely overwhelmed with nightmares of your relationships with others, but desperate not to lose what little he has of you.

Good End: He's still suffering from some insecurities about what he can't give you, and does try to overcompensate in every other field of romance to try to make up for it. For your part, you just have to make it clear that you DON'T want anyone else, that you will make it work with him, and the lack of intimacy might suck but it hopefully won't be permanent and you'll wait for him! This sentiment is so earth shattering for him he wants to just pick you up and spin you around on the spot (but he won't, don't worry). He still gets some worries every once in a while, but do the Pushing Daisies thing where you kiss him through cling wrap and share sweets and drinks with him for “indirect kisses” and sweetly ask to sleep in his clothes to be close to him and he'll be able to let go of a lot of his pressing worries.

Ren

Bad End: He has bad coping mechanisms and he's very pessimistic and negative. Of course he sees you walking with someone else and he convinces himself you're cheating on him. He doesn't go straight at you with this, though. He starts with making self deprecating comments like, “Yeah whatever, of course you're late. Why would you be on time for me when you were having such a good time with someone else?” and then specifically name-dropping this other person like asking if you had a good time with them, even if you weren't with them, and he's like rolling his eyes when you deny it. It goes so far and he becomes completely convinced that you're cheating on him, but… he doesn't want to break up with you. He keeps complaining and when you snap and you're like fine! If you don't trust me at all, why are you even with me? That's when he's hugging you too tightly and saying it's fine, he can put up with it, just don't leave him, he'll still be your boyfriend even if you're a cheating whore- he didn't mean that.

Good End: he's still jealous and jumps to the worst conclusions, but you talk to him! Because communication truly works wonders. And you can tell him you have other friends but only one Ren 💜 and he says you're cheesy but he feels better. Just when you're out and you run into anyone who he has suspicions about, it's best to be a little annoying with how much PDA you're showing him. Like hold his hand and snuggle up to him and call him terrible pet names and he HATES it but he also feels so very comforted by it all. There are still plenty of times where he talks shit about other people he doesn't like you hanging out with though, so try not to take too much offense and just clearly remind him he's being a dick and you're about to spray him with water if he doesn't stop it.

Leo

Bad End: Honestly, he's offended that you're making him feel this way. What kind of abusive gaslighter are you to be manipulating him into being worried about your loyalty to him? He's the victim. How are you going to fix it? - That's what he does to you. He uses his own (overacted) feelings to make you feel guilty and morally in the wrong so you fawn over him and apologize and try to make up with him. He'll let you grovel and beg and he'll sniffle through fake tears and pet your head and tell you that you're lucky he's so forgiving, no one else would put up with how bad a person you are. He's really a saint for taking you back after you talked to and smiled at that barista today. You won't do that again, right? You won't talk to anyone he doesn't want you talking to? You won't go out without him?

And… well, since you were an adulterous cheater… it's only fair he gets to have his fun without you, right?

Good End: I mean he's still a dick but you don't let him get into your head. No, bitch, I was not hitting on the cashier at Walgreens, I was buying Plan B because SOMEONE claims to be allergic to latex. He does like pushing your buttons and it's hard to tell exactly when he's seriously jealous (Why would he ever be jealous about you? They're only hitting on you to get to him, obvi). He does plenty behind the scenes, posting you but never your face, keeping your information extremely private and impossible to get to, blackmailing anyone who might know you personally and risks letting anything out. He's doing it for his image, not yours. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit for your image, he can’t be seen dating trash.

Bonus: Even though he is possessive, he would scheme to get you to do things with Sho. He's like I don't care, treat him like a toy I bought you 💜 I’ll watch and help you get the most use out of him.

YANDERE LEVEL!!! Consider them tied for first place:

Yuri

Bad End: Yikes! You just became this doctor's most favorite lab subject! And since you're his favorite, you can't be sullied by the dirty, germ ridden worms outside. You should stay with him, and he'll take care of you, especially because you're so sick. You weren't sick when he fell for you, but you keep getting worse and you're sooo grateful that he takes such good care of you. It's terrible that you ended up bedridden for days after seeing your childhood friend or favorite coworker or someone else you USED to be close to, but he makes your medicine specifically for you and keeps your room at the perfect temperature. Could you ask for a more doting boyfriend? He reminds you that your condition worsens when you go out in public, so he'll supervise any visits anyone wants to make to you. And don't cry that no one has been coming for the last few weeks! They weren't good enough for you (he denied their requests to visit). He's all you need. Really, you won’t even see Jiro after a while, but it won’t matter because you can’t even get out of bed without Yuri to help you.

Good End: He's so insecure and his grandiose act is an act, it's fake it till you make it theatrics. He will swat at Jiro and scold him like there won't be a tomorrow if poor Jiro talks to you or tries to do anything physical towards you in your checkups. Yuri has to be your ONLY doctor, he can do all of it! Please let him do all of it. He assumes you're looking for someone better, so he's constantly trying to convince you he's the best or that you have to only have eyes for him. Even in the good end, he is trying to forbid you from going to certain places (Frostheim) because he's afraid you'll leave him. He wants you to just stay in the lab or otherwise nearby so he can see you on his time and make sure you're not talking to anyone else out there… He just doesn't deal with jealousy well, but it stems from severe insecurities more than anything for him.

Taiga

Bad End: Till death do us part, kitty-cat. When he commits you to memory it's over for you. He'll drag you out of any situation he doesn't like you being in, making sure to show off the entire time that you are absolutely not an option to anyone but him. He's very quick to violence and will be covered in blood and horny more often than anyone really should be. He doesn't really care about your agency in things. You pissed him off and made him jealous, but it's not you who he's going to punish. He's going to beat the other person until they're unrecognizable, and he'll keep doing it until you get it through your head that he was dead serious about death being the only thing that's getting you away from him. Kind of jealous where he reacts poorly and then holds your head still so you have to look at the consequences and he's like, that's all you, kitten. That's what you made me do. If you don't like it, don't piss me off again.

Good End: he's still easily jealous, and he wants to react with violence, but you're not into that and you can convince him it's not worth his time. So he'll make some threats and that's normally enough to get people to stay away from you both. He likes when you hang around with him, his pretty little kitty, but he also gets in moods where he wants to be alone and can't put up with another person so he's not too bothered when you hang out with friends. As long as they don't put any moves on you and you're in his bed at the end of the day, you can do what you want. Just if anyone asks, you're his. No arguments or they're getting shot.

bonus: Probably would be willing to share you with Lulu, just he wants to watch or be involved as well. His two pretty kittens <3

Towa

Bad End: oh baby he's killing the competition. He doesn't even hesitate. Someone dares put their hands on you? Lightning strike. Anomalous animal attack. Poison in the water supply. He does not have patience with dealing with people who, to him, want to ruin your love story and hurt you. He doesn't really acknowledge your agency in most things. You're his sweet little Dandelion and those disgusting people are trying to take you away from him. Don't worry, he'll protect you and you can go right back to being his obedient little love. You're not pushing him away, you're just brainwashed by those evil people. Just stay close to him (you don't have a choice) and he'll put it all right again.

Also…he wants Haru in the love story too. He's like the kid slamming his dolls together to make them kiss, so congrats on two boyfriends? Towa’s very doting towards both of you even if he forgets that you can't survive off eating flowers and sometimes you need to sleep.

Good End: He can be the kind of “cute” jealous where he's pouting, wrapping his arms around you, biting you for attention and to assert dominance, even throwing things at people who he's bothered by. You can scold him but he's just biting you harder now and trying to drag you away where you won't be bothered by the mean people who are interrupting his time with his Dandelion. He doesn't really GET the boundaries you try to set, but if you word it right, then he'll respect them. You think he's respecting them, at least. You don't see him poisoning people behind your back.

He still wants you and Haru to be together too though, so, I mean again, congratulations on the two boyfriends even if Haru is politely excusing himself and apologizing whenever Towa tries to initiate a threesome. Is this a good end? Towa is just kind of Like That. Godspeed.

Jin

Bad End: It starts slow, he wants to know why you were late. Who were you with? And then he wants to check your phone and read your texts. And then you don't know when he's reading your texts because he set something up that gives him access to your phone whenever he wants. And then people you thought were your friends don't want to talk to you anymore and actually seem a bit afraid being around you at all. And then you're upset and you don't know who else to go to but Jin, who says they're all good for nothing assholes and you don't need them.

And then there's really no reason for you to go to classes or have a job. All you're good for is being his servant, and you like it, right? Because he buys you things, specifically jewelry that you can't take off yourself, bracelets that feel like handcuffs and necklaces that feel like collars. But more than that, you just like being his. It’s easier to not have to use your little brain to make bad decisions. So just stay with him, do what he says, and he'll take care of you.

Good End: It starts the same way as the bad end, but you call him on his shit. He doesn't need to know all of these details and if he does, you'll tell him. He needs to trust you or else he needs to break up with you. He might break up with you, because he's mad that you're being insubordinate and then a few days later he's texting you to come to his room and he's like…whatever, that argument was stupid. You can’t be dumb enough to want anyone else when you have the best anyone can get. (Come cuddle with me before I go crazy.) You have to put up with a level of his emotional immaturity to be with him, but he'll mellow out a bit over time with the jealousy. He'll be more amused at people he thinks are lesser than him trying to hit on you and kind of just likes to mess with them instead of being straight to social ruin and murder. Anyone he actually feels is a threat though, that'll be an argument if you want to keep them in your life because he's stubborn and arrogant and knows he's right.

Romeo

Bad End: No, he's not jealous. He doesn't let himself get to that point because when he sees you with someone else and he doesn't like it? Get in the cage. Lol. No, I'm not joking. Definition of possessive. He doesn't like you talking to his subordinates even when he tells you to. He doesn't want you going out of his sight, and honestly, it's easier for him to keep you protected if you just never leave your room. Your room being one that he's made up for you, decorated, and fitted with security cameras so he can check on whenever he wants.

He just wants to hold you and brush your hair for you and pick out outfits for you and let you lay around in perfect luxury. And if you want to leave? You don't need to walk as long anymore. You're not going anywhere. (Guy who cuts your Achilles tendon so you can't walk. There, I said it.)

Good End: He's so jealous. He's snapping at anyone who gets too close to you or you get too close to yourself. He is demanding to check your texts so he knows you're not talking to people he wouldn't approve of. This is toxic as all hell, so you can (risk your life) tell him he needs to CHILL. Like you'd waste your time with someone else when you already have the prettiest boyfriend alive. He likes the ego stroking and he can't deny the logic, he's not dating an idiot. You just have to make sure you're giving him enough reassurance that you don't have any interest in anyone else, and sometimes let him let off that insanely jealous energy by threatening someone. I know this is labeled “good end” and he's still toxic but this is good for Romeo okay, Romeo fans aren't trying to get with him because he's been to therapy. You know why you're here.

#tokyo debunker #tdb #tkdb #tdb x reader #tdb hcs #tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker hcs #jesus christ i am never doing this again #6.5k words bros

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munson-blurbs · 10 months ago

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair.

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life.

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?”

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?”

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room.

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away.

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth.

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side.

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class.

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed.

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora.

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her.

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.”

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride.

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it.

Now was not the time to slack.

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior.

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self.

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed.

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought.

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date.

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture.

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart.

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.”

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over.

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop.

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin.

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?”

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.”

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air.

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again.

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills.

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running.

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.”

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette.

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.”

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over.

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin.

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology.

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?”

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.”

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?”

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.”

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve.

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim.

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens.

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger.

It was raw shame.

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight.

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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thepencilnerd · 2 months ago

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take a slice

Summary: No one could imagine a more cunning or manipulative player than Shuntaro Chishiya—until he meets you. complete fic on my ao3 here <3 Word Count: 3.8k Contains: Depictions of violence, unresolved sexual tension, emotional constipation

A/N: because I binge-watched Alice In Borderland in the span of two days and I am very late to the party (but never too late for self-indulgent fan service)

Chishiya spots you across the same floor, your black silhouette nearly lost in the shadows of the night. It’s only your movement that catches his attention, the dark outerwear a sharp contrast to his bright white jacket. You and he are the only players scouting from this vantage point, watching from above while the chaos brews below.

The night is eerily quiet—the calm before the storm, as they say. Your gaze locks onto his, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. Chishiya feels his heartbeat falter, a fleeting hitch he quickly tamps down.

Before he can fully process it, you’ve already vanished around a corner, just as a rain of bullets peppers the area behind you.

A boy’s voice echoes from below, frantic. "The only way to clear this game is to work together!"

Bullshit , you think.

There must be a reason behind the attacker's anchoring position, Chishiya muses.

Of course.

When you finally make your way to the safe room, you’re welcomed by four unfamiliar figures: the spree-killing horse, the brunette boy from earlier, a girl with a bob, and the blonde.

Chishiya strikes swiftly, the crackle of his taser breaking the stillness. The masked attacker crumples to the floor, their face hitting the ground with a muffled thud. You waste no time, stomping down hard on their wrist, sending the gun skittering from their hand. Before they can recover, you grab the weapon and fire a single round into the crown of their skull.

When you glance up, you catch the faintest trace of a smirk ghosting across the blonde’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly.

In the seconds that follow, the two other players in the room hastily slam their hands on the red buttons lining the walls.

GAME COMPLETE. CONGRATULATIONS WINNERS.

Turning around, a pair of wide eyes greets you.

“Thank you,” the boy finally speaks, addressing you and the blonde in a shaky voice.

You respond with a nod, glancing over at the girl and seeing her return the acknowledgement.

“Don’t mention it.” The blonde’s condescending tone from behind you is paralleled only by his burning gaze, locking onto you immediately. He almost misses seeing you slip something from the dead body into your pocket.

You feel his focus linger on you as you leave the room.

The night air is thick with tension, the distant cries from nearby arenas only amplifying the silence with each footstep behind you. You don’t bother turning around; you already know who it is.

Chishiya steps into your peripheral vision, his pace unhurried, like a cat stalking in the shadows. The forest buzzes with the threat of unseen dangers, but all his attention is locked on you.

"You didn’t have to kill him," he says, his voice casual, almost amused, as though discussing the weather.

You don’t stop walking. "You didn’t stop me."

A quiet chuckle escapes him, barely more than a breath. "True." His tone remains light, but there’s an edge beneath it, like he’s testing you, challenging you. "Still, you’ve got a certain efficiency. Impressive."

Your expression stays neutral. And yet, Chishiya’s presence beside you stirs something strange—a shared awareness, as if you’re both circling an invisible boundary neither of you are quite ready to cross—yet.

"You took something," he says, breaking the silence again, his voice calm but probing. His gaze stays forward, unreadable. "From the body."

You glance at him briefly, just enough to meet his eyes, which glint with curiosity under the moonlight. He’s trying to figure you out.

"And what if I did?" There’s a challenge in your voice now.

Chishiya’s smirk returns, faint but unmistakable. "Nothing. For now."

The tension between you tightens, pulling you closer in the silence. The game isn’t over. Not between the two of you.

As you continue walking, he trails behind, but soon loses sight of you in the dense trees. Shadows shift, swallowing you whole. He barely has time to catch his breath before a sudden force slams him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. The disturbed soil and decaying leaves soften his fall, but his back still hits the earth with a solid thud.

Your knee digs sharply into his sternum, pinning him down. One hand tightens around his throat, not enough to choke him but enough to strain his breath. The cold, unforgiving edge of a blade presses against his cheek—a silent threat.

Chishiya’s indifferent expression makes your skin crawl, yet his stoic, unflinching gaze cuts through the moment like a dagger—piercing both hot and cold at once. Neither of you speak. It’s a game of cat and cat, both of you testing the other's resolve in this tense, silent standoff.

For a fleeting moment, he wonders if you can read each other’s thoughts.

You feel him gulp beneath your hand, his pulse quickening under your fingers. Both of his hands remain raised in surrender by his ears, calm, unwavering, and empty of any weapon or defense. His eyes flicker to the deep scar on your neck, lingering there for just a moment.

The air between you thickens. What feels like minutes pass in the span of heartbeats.

Without warning, you spring up and disappear into the night.

Chishiya stays on the ground for a moment, catching his breath. He sits up slowly, eyes tracing the path you took into the darkness. His chest rises and falls unevenly, the phantom cold of the blade still lingering on his skin. Silence wraps around him like a fog, but his pulse betrays him—racing, driven by more than just adrenaline.

For the first time in longer than he can remember, he feels something—a strange tug deep in his core, like something vital slipped away the moment you left. A curiosity stirs, mingling with the remnants of tension, a silent acknowledgment that this game isn’t over.

It’s only just begun.

Chishiya’s lips twitch into a faint smirk. Your piercing gaze and the scar on your neck are seared into his mind. He knows he’ll see you again. And next time, he won’t be caught off guard.

“You look like you have something on your mind.”

Kuina sits down across from Chishiya, her curiosity piqued as she watches him stare off into the distance. The evening air is still, a rare calmness settling over the Beach after a chaotic night.

Chishiya leans back, crossing his arms, a faint hum escaping his lips. “Just an interesting game tonight,” he replies casually, but there’s a lingering spark in his gaze that betrays more.

Kuina raises an eyebrow. “Must’ve been some game, then.”

“Perhaps,” Chishiya says, his voice smooth and unhurried. The rush of endorphins from the near-death experience still thrums faintly through his veins.

The cause? A player whose actions were as cunning and unpredictable as his own. The thrill of narrowing down their motivations felt like a puzzle finally worth solving.

His mind drifts back to the game, replaying each moment like scenes in a movie. The chaos, the desperate shouts, and the blaring alarms all felt distant—mere background noise compared to the razor-sharp focus he'd found himself drawn to. That focus was centered on one person.

You had been an anomaly from the start. There was a precision in the way you moved, calculated and unfazed by the panic unraveling around you. It was as if you thrived on the chaos, embraced it even, letting it fuel each step you took. While the other players were scrambling to find shelter or allies, you seemed to anticipate every move, predicting the patterns before they even unfolded.

And then, the moment that had truly hooked him: the kill. Cold, efficient, and executed without a trace of hesitation. You weren’t just surviving; you were playing the game in its purest form—adapting, evolving, always a step ahead. There was no hesitation in your actions, no unnecessary flourish—just the unyielding will to end a threat. It wasn’t just about self-preservation; it was about winning. And that’s what made you different.

Chishiya’s curiosity flared the instant your eyes met his in the aftermath. For the briefest moment, he’d seen a flicker of something—recognition, maybe even a hint of challenge. Like you were silently asking him if he had what it took to keep up.

It was absurd, really, to feel anything in the Borderlands beyond the mechanical urge to survive. But something had shifted tonight. For the first time in what felt like forever, the game had become more than a series of calculated risks and rewards: it had become interesting.

Chishiya’s gaze shifts back to the window where lights scatter the sky. His fingers tap idly on the armrest of his chair, a rhythm betraying the restlessness he tries to mask. He’s always prided himself on being detached, keeping emotions and sentiment far from his calculations. Yet here he is, preoccupied with thoughts that don't have a place in his carefully constructed logic.

"You're quiet," Kuina observes, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. "More than usual, I mean."

Chishiya’s smirk is faint, barely there. “Am I?”

She shrugs, leaning back in her seat. “You’ve been lost in your own head since you got back.”

Chishiya’s expression doesn’t falter, but there’s a slight shift in his demeanor—a barely perceptible sign of vulnerability, quickly smoothed over. “Maybe I’m just considering... possibilities,” he replies, the words coming slower than usual, as if he’s testing how they sound.

Kuina’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Possibilities, huh?” She tilts her head, studying him. “That’s one way of putting it. Or maybe… a person?”

Chishiya’s silence is uncharacteristic. He feels the pull to dismiss the notion immediately, to scoff at the idea of being distracted by a person, much less affected by them. But instead, he pauses. It’s enough for Kuina to catch on, her curiosity piqued.

“Interesting,” she murmurs, a teasing smile curling on her lips. “You’re actually thinking about someone, aren’t you?” When he doesn’t respond, she presses further. “It’s a girl, right? Did she do something to catch your eye?”

Chishiya finally meets her gaze, his own guarded but not entirely dismissive. “She’s... unusual,” he admits, the words coming out almost reluctantly. “Not like the others.”

Kuina arches an eyebrow. “Unusual how? Smart? Dangerous?”

“Both,” he replies without hesitation. “Efficient, focused. But there’s something else.” He uncrosses his arms, feeling oddly exposed, as though admitting to these thoughts makes them more real, more tangible. “It’s like she’s not playing the same game as the rest of them.”

Kuina studies him for a moment, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’ve got it bad,” she says, shaking her head. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d be drawn to someone for more than their utility.”

He scoffs, a ghost of his usual arrogance returning. “Don’t get carried away. I’m only interested because she might be useful.”

“Sure,” Kuina says with a knowing grin. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Chishiya falls silent again, but the truth gnaws at him. He knows it’s more than just her utility in the grand scheme of escaping this hellhole. It’s the way she challenges him—forces him to reevaluate his strategies and makes him wonder if there’s more to this game than just surviving.

He hates how that thought clings to him, even as he tries to push it away.

Chishiya shifts in his chair, feeling a dull ache radiate from his chest. He’s been operating on a different level since encountering you, and the physical reminder feels almost like an anchor to what he’s been trying to navigate.

He glances at Kuina, who’s still watching him with an amused expression, still probing. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

“Just considering my next move,” he replies, a hint of a smirk returning to his lips. “The game is full of variables, and I need to prepare for them.”

“Variables, huh? Is that what you call her now?” Kuina teases, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table.

“Focus,” he snaps lightly, but there’s no real heat in his voice. Instead, his mind races ahead to the next game, and how he can draw you in, maybe even observe you more closely. He’s already picturing the scenarios—the players, the setting, the stakes.

What he really wants is a way to see you again. To understand the force that pulls him toward you, the complexity that makes you more than just another player. The anticipation churns within him, exciting yet unnerving.

“What if I made a move to recruit her?” he muses aloud, considering the prospect. “She could be an asset. If she operates outside the norm, that could change the dynamics of our strategies.”

“Or it could blow up in your face,” Kuina counters, her tone light but her gaze serious. “You’re not exactly known for your emotionality, Chishiya. What if she doesn’t want to play?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, brushing off her concern. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

But the truth is, he knows that this isn’t merely about the game anymore. It’s about the way you make him feel—like a player in a game he thought he understood, now suddenly complex and exhilarating. Chishiya can’t shake the thought that if he wants to unlock the potential you represent, he’ll have to make a move soon.

He allows himself a moment of vulnerability, resting his chin on his hand as he reflects. “What if I want to see her again, Kuina? What if it’s not just about strategy anymore?”

Kuina’s eyes widen, clearly surprised by his admission. “Wow. You’re actually admitting you care.”

Chishiya rolls his eyes but can’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Sure,” she says, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Just remember, sometimes the best strategies are the ones that come from the heart.”

With that, Chishiya’s mind drifts again, calculating and assessing. He’ll be ready for the next game. He’ll be prepared to take any risk to find you again, to unravel the mystery of what you truly are: a partner, a rival, or perhaps something more. As the night draws to a close, the shadows deepen, but a flicker of determination ignites within him.

He will see you again.

A few days have passed since the last game, but the adrenaline still courses through your veins, lingering like a ghost. You survived, but the victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the memory of the indifferent blonde boy who’s drawn you in more than you care to admit.

Your thoughts drift back to that game—its intensity still vivid in your mind. It was like no other you’d experienced, where survival felt more like a dance with death than a struggle against it. And he was at the center of it, moving through the chaos with a calculated grace that caught your attention long before you understood why.

It wasn’t just that he was calm under pressure. Plenty of players had nerves of steel. It was his indifference, the way he seemed detached from the dangers around him, as though nothing could touch him. Where others flinched or panicked, he merely observed, as if the unfolding chaos was a puzzle to solve rather than a life-or-death situation. That kind of control was rare in the Borderlands, and in some strange way, it felt like a dare, an unspoken challenge that made you want to test him, to see if there was anything that could shatter that composure.

You remember the moment you locked eyes across the chaos, the way the world seemed to fade into the background. It was brief, but in that instant, it felt like a silent conversation—an understanding that went beyond words. There was something sharp in his gaze, a spark of curiosity that mirrored your own. It was as if he was evaluating you, sizing you up just as you were doing to him. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you were seeing a part of yourself reflected back in those cold, calculating eyes.

But it wasn’t just his composure or his gaze that drew you in. It was the way he acted in those crucial seconds when lives hung in the balance. While others scrambled to save themselves, he made moves that seemed almost playful, like he was toying with the danger rather than simply evading it. There was a thrill in watching him maneuver through the madness with an ease that bordered on arrogance, as though he was always three steps ahead of everyone else—including you.

And then there was the moment when the game ended. You had both survived, of course, but there was something in the way he looked at you afterward, something that lingered, a faint smirk that hinted he had seen more than you’d intended to reveal. It wasn’t pity; it was as if he recognized a kindred spirit, someone who understood the game on a different level. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt truly seen.

That feeling unsettles you even now, as you sit by the fire, staring into the flames. It’s not that you seek validation in the Borderlands; you’ve learned long ago that the only approval that matters is your own. But there’s something about his quiet confidence, the way he seemed to acknowledge you without saying a word, that’s hard to shake. It makes you wonder if he was as unaffected as he appeared or if there was more beneath the surface, something hidden behind that cool exterior.

You clench your jaw, frustrated with yourself for even thinking about him this much. He was just another player—albeit a skilled one—and you’ve dealt with plenty of them before. But there’s a part of you that can’t ignore the way his presence lingers, like a splinter in your mind, a question that refuses to be answered.

Why did he make such an impression on you? Was it his composure, his intelligence, or the quiet thrill of crossing paths with someone who didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else? Or was it the way he seemed to see you in return, as if you were more than just a piece on the board?

You realize that you don’t know the answers—and perhaps that’s what’s most intriguing of all. There’s an unfinished quality to your last encounter, a feeling that your story with him isn’t over yet. It’s as if the game itself has drawn a line between you, daring you to cross it again.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts that have become stubborn visitors in your mind. Why does he occupy your thoughts so much? Is it his calm indifference, the way he moved with calculated grace? Or is it something more that stirs a curiosity you can’t quite define?

Pushing the thoughts aside, you focus on your routine, an independent existence in the Borderlands, where survival means mastering skills few have the patience to learn. You've carved out a small camp nestled within the trees, camouflaged by foliage, a sanctuary of sorts amidst the chaos.

Every morning, you rise before dawn, the cool air biting at your skin as you check your traps. The gentle sounds of the forest waking around you are a familiar symphony, one you find solace in. You harvest small game—rabbits, birds, whatever you can catch—and meticulously prepare them, savoring the simple act of cooking over a small fire.

Hunting and foraging have become second nature. You collect wild herbs and edible plants, storing them in makeshift pouches crafted from scavenged materials. Each successful hunt reminds you of your resilience and strength.

But even as you focus on these tasks, your mind drifts back to him—the blonde boy from the game. The way his piercing gaze seemed to see right through you, as if he was calculating your every move. It’s unsettling yet exhilarating, a contradiction you can’t wrap your head around.

The sun climbs higher, and you take a break from your chores to wash your hands in a nearby stream, the water refreshing against your skin. As you splash your face, you catch your reflection in the rippling surface, a mix of determination and uncertainty staring back at you.

You spend the afternoon working on camp, reinforcing the makeshift walls and clearing away debris that threatens your space. But even as you work to distract yourself, you can almost feel his presence lurking at the edge of your thoughts, his smirk dancing on your mind like a memory that refuses to fade.

Eventually, you settle on a log outside your camp, a piece of driftwood you dragged from the riverbank. Pulling out your small notebook, you begin to sketch the maps of the Borderlands, noting down resources and potential hideouts. It’s practical, a way to keep your mind sharp, but each mark on the page feels like a tether to the games, to the players who dance around you like shadows.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the small, crumpled piece of paper you took from the body during the game. You’ve looked at it countless times since then, trying to make sense of the chaotic scribbles. It’s a series of numbers and symbols—coordinates, perhaps, or some kind of code. Whatever it is, it’s not immediately clear, and that only deepens your curiosity.

You flatten the paper against the rough surface of the log, comparing it with your sketches. Could it be a location in the Borderlands? A clue to something hidden or an upcoming game? The patterns don’t align with any familiar maps, but something about the markings feels deliberate, as though there’s a message buried within them. You trace the lines with your finger, committing them to memory, trying to see what the original owner had seen. What was so important that they’d die with it?

Your mind drifts back to the moment you took it. The blonde boy’s eyes had flickered towards you—just for a heartbeat—when you pocketed the paper. Did he know what it meant, or had he noticed the same curiosity in you that you now feel?

As you draw, memories of the game resurface: his calculated moves, his indifferent demeanor, and the strange thrill of standing against him. There’s something magnetic about his presence, something that both fascinates and frustrates you.

In the fading light of dusk, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the forest wash over you. The call of distant birds, the rustle of branches—each note a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re here, navigating a world filled with peril and unpredictability. But still, the thought lingers. Will your paths cross in the next game, or will you remain a ghost in his memory?

With a sigh, you shake your head and return to your sketches, determination settling in your chest. It doesn’t matter. Yet, in the depths of your mind, a part of you yearns for that inevitable meeting, that chance to unravel the enigma that is the blonde boy.

As darkness settles over the forest, you tuck your notebook away, the images of your maps a promise of the journey ahead. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, new games to navigate. And if fate has its way, perhaps it will also bring him back into your orbit once more.

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x you #chishiya imagine #alice in borderland x reader #im alive #aib chishiya #aib x reader #aib imagine #nijiro murakami #chishiya smut #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland smut

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queenshelby · 17 days ago

Text

The Peaky Role (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Some Smut

Please comment and engage!

After spending an extended weekend in Dublin, you stepped into the familiar set again, the echo of footsteps fading into the buzz of production chatter.

The air hummed with energy, the walls adorned with bright lights and intricate props, but today you felt detached.

You had just broken up with your boyfriend after four years of simmering frustration, and the relief mixed with sadness stirred in your chest.

You felt like you had wasted your time with James and this was what hurt you the most.

“Hey,” Cillian’s voice cut through the noise as he approached, those deep blue eyes of his scrutinizing you with an unsettling familiarity.

You plastered on a smile. “Hey Cills, how are you?" you asked, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

“Not bad,” he replied, eyeing you carefully. “You?" he asked, but sensing that his question barely scratched the surface.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, forcing a laugh. “Just another day on set, right?”

He didn’t buy it. “You don’t look fine,” he said, tilting his head slightly as if trying to peer through the mask you wore.

You shrugged, trying to dismiss his concern. “Well, I am fine enough and, honestly, I don't want to delve into it right now.”

Cillian narrowed his eyes, one eyebrow twitching upwards, his expression a blend of skepticism and genuine care. “You know, sometimes it helps to talk. I’m here if you want to...”

You shook your head, forcing a light-hearted tone. “You’d just get bored listening to my silly problems.”

“Hardly,” he replied, his voice lowering slightly, creating an almost conspiratorial just as the director called for you.

"Your scene is up next,” the director said, waving you over as he paced between the crew and the set. You exchanged a quick glance with Cillian, who offered an encouraging nod before heading back to what he was doing,

As you walked to the set, the weight settled heavier on your shoulders, a reminder of the lingering emotions swirling within you.

Luckily for you, the scenes scheduled for today were simple and straightforward, requiring little more than the scripted banter. You took a breath, adjusting your focus as you prepared for the scene with one of the other actors while Cillian looked on from the distance.

He could see that something was off. Your delivery felt flat, the lines slurring together without the usual spark of life. The actor next to you glanced your way, concern flickering across his features.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, lowering his voice as the crew set the cameras.

You forced another smile. “Yeah, just a little tired. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” he replied before stepping back as the director called for action again.

“Alright! Let’s roll!” The command sliced through the air, and the familiar hum of the set drowned out the chatter in your mind and, after a few takes, you still managed to pull it off.

Cillian leaned against a nearby wall, his gaze fixed on you, rapt attention painted on his face as he watched the scene unfold. His presence both grounded and unsettled you, simmering underneath your skin. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze, prompting you to deliver each line with precision. The scene ended, and appreciation echoed from the crew.

“Nice work!” the director called out when the scene was wrapped up, clapping his hands together as he walked over.

"Thanks," you replied, though your voice felt distant, barely floating above the whirlpool of thoughts in your mind.

In that moment, Cillian, who had been watching, stepped forward too, an approving smirk stretched across his face. “You nailed that, despite... whatever’s bothering you.”

“Thanks,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“So, uhm, what are your plans for dinner tonight?” Cillian’s question cut through the haze of your thoughts, an anchor in the roiling sea of emotion.

You chuckled, a hint of sarcasm lacing your voice. “Instant noodles probably," you stated, your eyes rolling with mock disdain.

“Ah, the gourmet life continues,” Cillian teased, a playful grin presiding over those handsome features.

“Living the dream,” you replied with a dramatic sigh, leaning against a nearby prop like it was a lifeline.

Cillian chuckled, crossing his arms. “How about I save you from a dinner of noodles again and whip something up instead? You look like you can use the company."

The offer lingered in the air, and for a moment, all thoughts of James and the earlier turbulence dissipated. You raised an eyebrow, surprised yet intrigued.

"Are you serious? You want to cook for me? Again?" you eventually asked, a smirk creeping onto your lips.

Cillian shrugged, his confidence unwavering. “Well, I am kind of cooking for myself but you are welcome to join," he said, making it sound as casual as discussing the weather.

“Alright then, I accept,” you replied, unable to suppress a grin before turning your back to the set, the prospect of a dinner with Cillian somehow pulling you away from the chaos of the day.

Once the shoot wrapped, you went back to your place to get changed before making your way to Cillian’s apartment.

Arriving with a bottle of red wine in hand, you felt a flutter of nerves twist in your stomach as you knocked on the door. Having dinner like this, alone, with your best friend's father, felt somewhat absurd.

Cillian opened the door with that effortless charm of his, deep blue eyes sparkling with warmth.

“You made it,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. The aroma of garlic and herbs wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

“I brought a bottle of red wine. I hope that’s not too weird and inappropriate,” you said, holding it up with a half-hearted laugh.

Cillian waved a hand, dismissing your concern as he took the bottle from your grasp.

“Not weird at all," he said, his smile widening as he uncorked the bottle with practiced ease. “In fact, I appreciate the gesture. It will pair perfectly with my culinary masterpiece.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his statement, knowing that he was trying to be funny.

“Culinary masterpiece, huh?” you teased, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as he poured the wine into two glasses, a delicate swirl of crimson capturing the light.

Cillian shot you a playful glance over his shoulder. “Oh yes, just wait until you see my famous spaghetti al pomodoro. A classic, really,” he said, his voice dripping with mock-seriousness as he turned back to the stove, stirring the bubbling pot with a flair that echoed his charm.

“Can you say this again?" you laughed, mocking his pretend Italian accent when he said it.

Cillian laughed, a rich, warm sound that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

“Spaghetti al pomodoro," he declared again, waving the wooden spoon like a conductor’s baton.

"Oh god, let's hope you never decide to portray an Italian mobster in a film," you teased, leaning back against the countertop, crossing your arms as you smirked at him.

Cillian turned to face you fully, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You wound me,” he replied, placing a hand on his chest, feigning injury before reaching for a red wine glass and filling it up to the brim, the ruby liquid catching the light as he raised it in a mock toast.

While enjoying your glass of wine, you watched Cillian cook with an effortless grace, each movement fluid and precise as he navigated the kitchen. The scent of simmering garlic filled the air, mingling with fresh basil, wafting toward you.

While he prepared dinner, you talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing with an ease that felt rare and welcomed.

iYou discussed books and music, fun topics like the latest films you had binge-watched and the classic bands you both adored.

Your mood was good now after he had made an effort to lighten it but this moment of happiness was short lived when your phone buzzed on the counter, cutting through the laughter like a thunderclap. You glanced at the screen, and instinctively, a frown swept over your features as the name “James” flashed on the screen.

Cillian noticed, his gaze shifting to the phone before landing back on your face, concern lining his features. “Everything okay?”

You snatched the phone up, a sigh escaping your lips as you swiped the screen open.

“It’s just James,” you said, dismissing it with a wave, though you felt your heart rate quicken as you willfully ignored his call.

C illian raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to a mix of worry and curiosity. “Just James?" he asked, sensing trouble.

"I broke up with him last night,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you poured another glass of wine, trying to drown the memories in crimson liquid.

Cillian straightened, his eyes widening slightly. “Last night? Just like that?”

You shrugged, swirling the wine in your glass. “Yeah, it just didn’t feel right anymore. He was jealous, always questioning my choices, my time on set, and it felt suffocating. It's like he resented all the good things happening to me.”

Cillian leaned against the counter, his expression shifting to one of understanding, his posture losing its usual relaxed charm in favor of concern. "After what I have heard over the ye ars, I can’t say I’m surprised," he admitted, his voice gentle. "You probably are better off without someone tying you down like that because, at your age, you really deserve the freedom to chase your dreams."

With a bitter laugh, you responded, “I know, but it took me too long to realse that. I wasted four years of my life with him," you stammered, your voice more shaken now than you intended.

Cillian’s eyes softened. He tilted his head slightly, the warmth in his gaze adding a layer of comfort to the tense atmosphere. “You’re still young though and, at your age, we all make choices that we later question,” he said, his voice low and steady. “What matters is that you learn from them and move forward.”

“Easier said than done, right?” You took a deep breath, swirling the wine in your glass again, the crimson liquid catching the light. “I mean it’s hard to just move on, especially when the memories stick like glue after four years, you know?" you explained reluctantly as your eyes were tearing up, betraying your attempts to maintain composure.

Cillian stepped closer, a subtle shift that closed the distance between you. “I get it. It’s difficult to shift gears when you’ve invested so much emotionally, trust me. I've been there," he said, his honesty catching you by surprise.

You hadn’t expected him to share that side of himself and his own vulnerability stirred something deep within you.

“What you need to know, however, is that you deserve better than what you experienced with him,” Cillian said, his tone serious as he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering to a softer timbre that felt intimate.

“You’re talented, smart, and you have the world at your feet. You shouldn’t let anyone hold you back from chasing what’s truly yours," he told you while placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin with a warmth that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

His gaze anchored you, those deep blue eyes glimmering with sincerity. You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his stare.

“Thanks, Cillian,” you murmured, your voice barely breaking through the air thick with unspoken tension. The way his gaze held yours made your heart race, each beat a reminder of the shifting dynamics around you.

Cillian leaned back slightly, drawing his hand away but the moment lingered, electric and charged with unspoken words, thick as the aroma of the cooking dinner that now seemed to fade into the background and it was then that you did something you hadn’t planned on doing.

You stepped forward, closing the distance as if pulled by an unseen force and, just like that, your lips met Cillian's, a soft collision that felt both shocking and inevitable.

Cillian was suprised at first, his eyes widening in disbelief, yet the moment hung in the air, heavy with something unsaid. Thus, he gave in to the kiss, his initial shock melting away as his lips moved against yours.

The kiss deepened, slow and exploratory, a fleeting moment that suspended time around you.

You felt yourself melt into him, the tension of the last few days dissipating like fog under the morning sun. Cillian’s hands found their way to your waist, firm yet gentle, grounding you in a moment that felt both surreal and intoxicating.

But then, suddenly, just as it began, it ended. Cillian pulled back, a look of shock on his face as he struggled to process what had just happened.

“Wait—” he stammered, stepping back as if your kiss had burned him. “I can’t… we can’t…," he murmured, his voice trailing off into a breathless hush and, suddenly, you stood frozen, confusion swirling in your chest.

“What do you mean?” you pressed, your heart racing as the unexpected shift threw you completely off balance.

Cillian ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of surprise and regret. “You’re my best friend’s daughter. My daughter's best friend. I am married," he blurted out, the weight of his words crashing around you like a thunderstorm. "It's just wrong," he finished, his voice strained as he took another step back, creating an uncomfortable space between you.

You blinked, your heart thudding hard in your chest, a rush of conflicting emotions surging forth as if a dam had burst within you.

“Cillian, I—” you attempted to explain, but the words caught in your throat weighing heavy with confusion and regret. "I am sorry. I should go," you managed to say, the tremor in your voice betraying the calm façade you tried to maintain. You turned away, moving toward the door as though its exit held the answers to your storming thoughts.

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#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #cillian murphy imagine #peaky blinders #cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #tommy shelby smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian x reader #cillian fanfic #thomas shelby #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

Note

Hello there! If it's not a bother,i wanted to request Chuuya,Kunikida and Akutagawa getting into a fight for us and the reader's reaction? the other person might have badmouthed the reader and that caused the character to get into a fight with them. Thank you!! <33

“WATCH YOUR MOUTH”

— dazai, kunikida, chuuya, and akutagawa fighting someone who badmouthed you

a/n: also especially posted for @dazaiaiko cause it has been while since I uploaded something bsd related

DAZAI OSAMU:

"hello there!" dazai greets as he enters the bar. he, with a birth smile, takes a seat at the table with two men, "pleasure seeing you here."

one of them snaps at him, "the hell is your business here, kid?"

he waves his hands in innocence, "hey now, no need to be so aggressive! I just came to have a pleasant chat with you guys about something...rather personal."

"it just so happens," dazai continues, interrupting the man's response, "that you've badmouthed my dear lover," he closes his eyes as he smiles, "that isn't something I am fond of."

the man laughs, "so you here to pick a fight, ay?" the man tries to get up but is hindered by something rather painful. namely a knife grazing his thigh.

"don't cause a scene now; I would hate having to clean up after your mess."

the man frantically nods. dazai then retracts his knife, nestling it safely in his pocket.

he simply thinks that no one should be allowed to treat you like that so this should act as a warning. that if he ever tried insulting you again, there will be consequences.

dazai laughs, "that's good to hear!" he stands up, dusting his brown coat, and heads to the door, "hopefully we don't meet again...for your sake."

soon, he is at your door with a bouquet of flowers. the moment you open the door, you're greeted by his beaming smile, "hello, belladonna! you look as lovely as usual!"

you roll your eyes, leaning on the door, "what has brought you here, 'samu?"

"my heart simply yearned for one y/n l/n," he hums and you chuckle.

you take the bouquet with a grateful smile, "I think you just came for the crab salad I made."

he presses a kiss to your cheek before letting himself in, "that is merely an added bonus, my dear," his arm wraps around your waste, "I am here for you, you should know that."

"I also know that you went to the bar to threaten that one guy."

he pauses, "...really?"

"mhm."

"darn."

KUNIKIDA DOPPO:

to unwind, you deicided to take your husband on a date to the cafe under the agency. you were having a good time in general, but kunikida couldn't help but notice the people in the adjacent table talk about you.

"what's wrong, doppo?" you ask, your hand resting on his own.

he looks up at you with a smile, gently squeezing your hand, "it's nothing; don't worry about it."

you smile and continue on your conversation. all seems to be normal but then kunikida hears something that he simply can't let go.

he abruptly gets up and headed towards their table. he towers over them as he asks, “do you have any business with us?”

they exchange looks with each other before one of them speaks up, “well—“

“then I would appreciate you if you keep quiet.”

they quickly shut their mouth and before kunikida turns back to walk to you, he looks down at them and says, “let’s keep things civil for your sakes.”

the men don't let the threat slide and one of them tries attacking kunikida. he swiftly dodges and grabs him by the collar, pushing him to a nearby wall, "surely what I said was easy enough for you to understand."

the guy, terrified, nods quickly and kunikida releases him, letting him fall to the ground. the guy scrambles to his feet and his friend soon follows suit.

kunikida pushes his glasses up with a sigh before he turns to you, "sorry for my reaction, but—"

he stops in his tracks when he sees you looking at him in awe and with a silly little smile on your face, "aww, you love me!"

he looks at you, confused, "of course, I do."

you tackle him in a hug that he doesn't hesitate to recporicate, albeit with a hushed whisper, "y/n, pda is unacceptable!"

you press a kiss to his cheek and he quickly shuts up. y/n used kisses: very effective!

NAKAHARA CHUUYA:

you and your husband were walking the streets, jumping from shop to shop. of course, it was fun and it helped that your husband is very engaging and tells you what he thinks and genuinely suggests outfits.

you stopped at a particular shop, though it was one that you already had something in mind to get.

so chuuya left you to your own devices, but as he was chilling, he overhead people talking about you in a rather unpleasant manner.

so he went to you, pressing a kiss on your cheek and telling you he had to quickly check something, then he followed them outside the shop.

because of their wonderful luck, they enter an alleyway. chuuya smirks before going in after them but they have yet to notice him til he speaks, "what do we have here?"

they snap their heads towards him. one of them snarls at him, "the hell you want?!" and chuuya's eyebrows furrow.

"I will just teach you a lesson," he smirks before slamming the guy's head to the wall. the other one sees the scene unfold and attempts to run away. chuuya doesn't let him get far.

soon, they are both beaten to a pulp and chuuya dusts his hand.

one thing that chuuya likes to remind people is to never badmouth you.

alas, some are simply unfortunate.

so with his head high and chest puffed out, he heads back to the shop.

though, he is met by a very angry you who grumbles, "nakahara chuuya."

he tenses up and smiles at you, "heyyyy babe, how was it?"

"what did I say about beating people up?"

the disappointment in your eyes hits him hard then he frowns, slightly blushing, "listen, they should know better than to speak about you like that."

you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. what's done is done and you can't change anything. you also can't complain about having a husband who always has your back.

"won't tell me I am your strong husband at least?"

locking arms with him, you roll your eyes, "you're my 'strong' and 'handsome' husband."

he laughs before nudging you lightly with his elbow, "now what shop do you wanna go to?"

AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE:

a normal evening: you were chilling on your couch, scrolling through your phone.

you didn't think that anyone would show up at this late hour. and even if they did, one expects a delivery man to come knocking on their door, not their nationally feared boyfriend injured and using the door for support.

thankfully though, he isn't in a terrible shape, but he has sustained quite the injury, if the stagger in his step is anything to go by.

"ryu!" you gasp as you run to steady him, "what happened?"

you gently lead him to the couch where he finally sits down, letting a tired sigh. he avoids your eyes for a moment before speaking up, "just had a fight with some people."

you frown, inspecting his injuries, "what did they do? anything related to the mafia?"

he shakes his head as he watches you get the bandages and whatnot. you settle in front of him and he hesitantly shows you the injury. your eyes brim with worry and you instantly start tending to them.

after a couple of moments, his hand moves to rest on your head, "they were...badmouthing you."

you freeze and look up at him. he frowns, a little defensive, "what? I hate anyone who talks you down."

a small laugh escapes your lips as you press a kiss to his cheek, "what did I say about getting into unnecessary fights?" you hum and almost coo at his blushing face.

he averts his eyes and grumbles, "that was very much necessary."

"you could've just ignored them," you quirk an eyebrow at him and he ignores your reprimanding, firmly believing that fighting for your honor is worth every injury he could've gotten.

you cup his face, "ryu," you caress his cheek and he grumbles making you giggle before continuing, "I just don't want you to get hurt even for me."

he sighs with a small nod. his shoulders relax upon seeing your smile, though he avoids telling you that he will, without hesitation, get in another fight just for you.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @jisbizarre @kunikida-simp

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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agaypanic · 10 months ago

Note

Hi!! I saw you were writing for Rodrick and thought I could give an idea if you would like to write for it! So here's the basis, at Rodricks party (or just a party in general) the reader gets flat out wasted and doesn't realize that Rodrick is their boyfriend and says like 'my boyfriend would beat you up if he found out about this' while Rodrick is trying to take care of them. Preferably feminine or gender neutral pronouns. I hope this made enough sense. Have a great rest of you day :)

Blame it on the Alcohol (Rodrick Heffley X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Your boyfriend Rodrick tries taking care of you while you’re drunk, and you seem to forget that he’s your boyfriend.

A/N: warning for underage drinking

***

As soon as Rodrick’s parents were out of the house, he knew he was gonna throw a party. He didn’t care that his brother Greg would be there; he’d take care of him later. Maybe make him sleep over at Rowley’s or lock him in his room.

Rodrick threw himself on the couch and called you, wanting you to be the first to show up to his party. Then, after the call, the two of you texted all of your friends to come to Rodrick’s tonight.

A few hours later, the party was in full swing. Rodrick ended up locking Greg in the basement so he could focus on having fun with you without worrying about his brother ruining his party.

“So, when are your parents coming home?” You asked your boyfriend before taking a sip of your drink. You didn’t really know what was in it; your friend had made it for you, but it was definitely giving you a bit of a buzz.

“Monday or something.” Rodrick shrugged, his arm wrapped around you, keeping you close to him. “We have the whole weekend to ourselves.” He said with a smirk.

“Isn’t Greg here?”

“Yeah, but I can keep him in the basement.”

“Rodrick…” You pointed to the front door, where you saw Greg’s friend Rowley looking around in wonder. “What’s he doing here?”

Rodrick cursed, his wide eyes accentuated by the eyeliner that you helped him put on before people started coming to the house.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, handing you his red solo cup before racing over to the little redheaded boy and grabbing him by the back of his shirt. You snorted, taking another sip before going to find your friends.

It was a long while before you found Rodrick again. You were close to plastered, hanging onto one of your friends who was definitely more sober than you were. After a brief silence in the house, where apparently Susan had called to check up on Rodrick and Greg, your boyfriend let the boys out of the basement, and the party became livelier than before. You screamed along to music, dancing in a way that looked like uncontrolled thrashing, and drank until your friends decided it was time to cut you off and hand you back to your boyfriend.

“Finally! We’ve been looking for you for, like, forever!” One of your friends said with a giggle as she spotted Rodrick in the kitchen.

“Who’s he?” You asked, pointing at the boy. He looked at you and then at your friend, growing confused.

“She’s wasted. Good luck.” Then you were pushed into his arms. Luckily, he caught you, or else you probably would’ve stumbled into something.

“Gee, thanks!” He called out to your friend before looking down at you. “Hey babe, feeling okay?”

“Who are you calling ‘babe’?” You asked incredulously. Rodrick snorted.

“Yeah, let’s get you to bed.”

Luckily for Rodrick, the party was starting to die down a bit. He quickly kicked everyone out of the house, grabbed a bottle of water, and told Greg and Rowley that they could do whatever they wanted as long as they didn’t bother him before he took you up to his room.

“You better hope my boyfriend doesn’t find out about this.” You said in a bit of a slur as Rodrick sat you on his bed. “He’ll beat you up.”

“Y/n, I am your boyfriend.” Rodrick snorted, and you furiously shook your head.

“Nuh-uh.” You said, leaning back on your elbows. “My boyfriend’s prettier.”

Rodrick felt jealous for a minute before remembering that he was being jealous of himself.

“Oh really?”

You nodded, watching Rodrick pull out a shirt from his dresser.

“He’s in a band.” You said with a smile before seeing the shirt’s design. You gasped, pointing at it with a grin. “That’s his band!”

“Yeah?” Rodrick asked, mirroring your enthusiasm. He figured it was better to play along by acting like he wasn’t your boyfriend right now. “I’m a big fan.”

“Well, I’m a bigger fan.” You smirked, flopping back onto the bed. You stretched your limbs, feeling fuzzy and warm all over. “I’m tired.” You said with a sigh.

Rodrick figured now would be the best time to get you changed. He pulled you back into a sitting position and held the shirt in front of you.

“Wanna put this on?” He asked in a tone that one would use with a baby. Seeing the name of your boyfriend’s band on the shirt, you nodded and snatched it from his hands. Rodrick turned around as you got changed, throwing you some shorts from one of the last times that you stayed over.

By the time Rodrick was changed into his own pajamas and had turned around, you were sprawled out on his bed, the clothes you were previously wearing scattered around you.

Letting out a small laugh, Rodrick gathered your stuff into a small pile. Then he gently grabbed you, pulling you closer to the head of the bed. Rodrick opened up the water bottle he brought up and nudged you awake.

“Drink this.” Your eyes opened the slightest bit to see the bottle, which you grabbed and chugged. Rodrick’s eyes widened at the speed at which you drank, the bottle being emptied in just a couple of seconds.

“Thanks.” You say, crushing the plastic bottle and giving it back to Rodrick, who just tossed it over his shoulder. “You know, you’re really nice.” You grabbed one of Rodrick’s pillows, clutching it close to you and smushing your cheek against it. “But don’t try anything, because my boyfriend will kick your ass.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” Rodrick laughed, brushing some stray hair out of your face. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight.” You yawned, quickly falling into a deep sleep. When he knew you weren’t going to wake up, Rodrick laid back and closed his eyes, staying close to you as he fell asleep.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

#agaypanic #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid x reader

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neochan · 10 months ago

Text

THE PROMISCUOUS TUTOR – TEASER

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part three of a series! read part one & two for context! cannot be read as a standalone!

PAIRING | tutor!jaemin x reader

SYNOPSIS | na jaemin is too sexy to be holed up in the campus library, but once you catch wind of what he does between the shelves, you know it’s your time to see just how well his reputation proceeds him.

WC | 1.1k for the teaser | 20-25k est. for fic

A.N | this is just a teaser for you guys to get hype!! current wc for the entire project is 14.6k....will be posting the finished fic on feb 1st <3

The echo of your footsteps resonates through the quiet library as you navigate your way to the geology section. The fluorescent lights above flicker intermittently, casting occasional shadows that dance along the bookshelves. You can't help but wonder why Haechan chose such a weird ass place to meet.

Decorative rocks are showcased throughout this area of the library, and in the back of your mind you wonder who in their right mind would study geology. Rocks?

“Took you long enough.” Haechan teases, emerging from the shadows between two bookshelves. You squint at him, your eyes still adjusting to the unexpected appearance.

"Why do you have to be so extra?" you quip, recovering from the surprise. It's the second time today he's managed to catch you off guard.

"Extra is my middle name, darling," he grins, leaning casually against the shelves. You secretly wish they would give in and collapse just for the sake of a good laugh.

"Cut the dramatics, Haechan. Why am I here?" you demand, crossing your arms.

"I want to know what you’re doing with Jaemin," he deadpans, peering up through his long lashes. "Because for the past thirty minutes or so, you've been practically drooling over him." He checks his wrist adorned with a silver watch you gifted him last Christmas, "And I've been keeping track, by the way. Don't bother denying it; I've got eyes everywhere."

You roll your eyes, annoyance creeping in. "That's bordering on stalker behavior, you know."

He casually shrugs, unfazed. "Answer the question."

"I'm studying with Jaemin. What else would I be doing?" you retort, finding the situation utterly ridiculous.

"Sure, you're not one of his study buddies?" Haechan drawls, dragging out the second-to-last word and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again, realizing you've walked right into his stupid trap.

You glare pointedly. “Just because you caught me looking at another man that isn’t you doesn’t mean I want to fuck him.”

“Oh sweetheart, I didn’t say anything about fucking him.” Haechan replies with a sly grin.

“You implied it!” You huff, jabbing him in the chest with a manicured finger.

He clutches the spot and winces at pain. “Damn your nails are sharp.”

“Why am I really up here.” You were becoming impatient. Perhaps you should have known that Haechan would waste your time. There was nothing of importance for you between these stupid, dusty, rock filled shelved.

A part of you did know it, though. And that part was practically begging Haechan to shove you against the shelves and start fucking your brains out.

You squash that part down. Deep down.

Haechan sighs and takes a tentative step backwards, “Honestly, I was bored and just wanted to mess with you.” You open your mouth to chastise him, but he cuts you off before you can, “But now that we’re on the topic of fucking Jaemin –”

“Don’t think we’re on the same topic here.” You interject.

He keeps going without missing a beat, “I just thought you should know about his....habits” His face beams in pride, as if this super-secret tidbit of information could solve world hunger.

"His habits?"

Haechan takes a step towards you, "Yeah...his dirty, filthy habits."

"What are you getting at Haechan?"

The boy in front of you eyes you up and down before speaking slowly, "You're telling me you don't know?"

You narrow your eyes at Haechan, feeling a mix of confusion and suspicion. "Know what exactly? Stop beating around the bush and just spit it out."

Haechan smirks, relishing the moment. "I just thought you should know that he fucks girls here after hours."

“In the geology section?” You question, skepticism etching your features.

“In the library dumbass.” Haechan retorts, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes lock onto yours, daring you to challenge him.

“Yeah right.”

He stomps his foot in a childlike manner. “I’m serious.”

Your disbelief lingers. "I don't believe you. It's literally patrolled by security after hours," you assert, your arms crossing defensively over your chest.

Haechan rolls his eyes, seemingly accustomed to your skepticism. "Y/n, me and Jeno used to think Jaemin was rocking your shit back when he started tutoring you."

A wry smile creeps onto your face. "How lovely."

“I mean, now we know you just need help with stats –”

“It’s a hard subject.” You defend yourself.

Sure, you’d never been good at math like others, but statistics was a hard class. And your professor made it even more boring with her monotoned voice.

“I know, cheated my way through an A.” Haechan admits, flashing a beaming smile. “Anyways, he has an entire roster of girls he brings to the library after hours. Honestly, you’re the only girl I’ve seen him actually tutor.” The soft glow of the library lights casts a warm hue on the leather-bound volumes that surround you and you notice it illuminates the curve of Haechan’s jaw too.

“Haechan, I swear if this is a prank or a set up.”

He gives another stomp to the worn-out carpet, "Why would I be lying about this?" he insists, his expression genuinely serious. "You know what, meet me here Friday night at nine thirty."

“The library closes at eight.”

“Back entrance is always open.” He winks at you, and you playfully swat his arm. “Gonna prove that I’m not lying.”

“Whatever.”

You find yourself baffled by Haechan's sudden revelation about Jaemin's supposed "dirty habits." There's a lingering question in your mind – why is Haechan even sharing this information with you in the first place? As the absurdity of the situation sinks in, you can't help but wonder what prompted him to bring you to this secluded spot just to share peculiar details about Jaemin's life.

Is he threatened by your sudden interest - if he really was catching on to the fact that you were after Jaemin.

A few beats pass before he’s nudging your shoulder. “So?” He jostles your arm with his own until you swat at him again, “You’ll meet me here?”

“Sure, Haechan.” In truth, you had nothing better to do. And maybe you could use this to your advantage. The next part of this stupid challenge was to fuck Jaemin anyways, and what better way than to use his rendezvous spot to do so.

If Haechan was telling the truth.

“We should make out.”

You slide your eyes to his and cock your head, “In your dreams Hyuckie.”

note. let me know your thoughts!!!! i really need feedback in my inbox <3 also, if you want to be on the taglist, comment on this post (if you're in the taglist for the rest of the series, no need to comment)

#jaemin smut #nct jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream series

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