#hello and welcome to the only thing I care about anymore
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۶ৎ — A Welcome Gift !
tap here for chb masterlists ! here for reqs info
warnings: heavy making out (percy is starved, okay?) pda, percy getting handsy & kinda dry humping, public beach so espect sand getting everywhere!
ㅤ୨ৎ — ˳ percy jackson ! fem. reader
summary: after months apart, percy is finally back at camp—and the moment he sees reader, he's all over them. Greetings can wait. Right now, all he wants is reader, and a whole lot of making up for lost time.

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗢𝗗𝗦 𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 with Percy.
There was no other explanation. He'd been saving Olympus ever since he found out he was a demigod, and what did he get in return? More quests. Nonstop.
The gods were a bunch of idiots. Seriously, they were pros at it. After everything he'd done for them, they still had the audacity to send him on more quest.
Wasn't that some kind of child labor? Sure seemed like it. Well, maybe not child labor anymore, but there was definitely some exploitation going on here.
They had to be joking. You'd think that after saving their godly asses time and time again, they'd at least give him a break. But nope. Overestimating the gods was always a mistake.
And now, finally, Percy was back at camp after yet another quest. Sadly, you hadn't been there to join him—lucky you, right? You weren't even around when he had to pick his team.
Now he was back.
You had just finished unpacking in your cabin and were heading to the beach for some much-needed relaxation. That was the plan... until you saw your boyfriend emerging from the water.
Clasic Percy. Coming back from a quest and just appearing out of nowhere, soaking wet. What else did you expect?
As soon as he spotted you, he sprinted toward you faster than Apollo reciting one of his cringey haikus.
Could you blame him? It had been months since you'd last seen each other. Ignoring his exhaustion, he practically knocked you down into the sand, trapping you beneath him.
You barely had time to process it before his lips took over yours.
A proper greeting? For what? His version of a "hello" was his salty mouth crashing into yours, his wet hair dripping down his jaw and chin, splashing onto your cheeks... and basically your entire face.
"Hey..." Kiss.
"Not now. Talking can wait," he muttered, just before capturing your lips again.
Percy didn’t care about being seen or the lecture that would come afterward. Right now, the only thing on his mind was you. It had been months. MONTHS.
“Mph…m'trying to speak here...” you murmured, trying to talk, but your voice came out weak and breathless.
"Yeah? Well, I’m trying to kiss you here," he responded, nibbling softly on your lower lip in that playful and sexy way that always left you breathless.
You rolled your eyes and shifted positions, now on top of him, pinning him to the sand with one leg on either side of his body.
"Now that’s better," he grinned. The feel of your body molding to his like two puzzle pieces was enough to leave him with a goofy smile, looking at you like you were everything he needed.
And, honestly, you were.
"Much better."
His hands slid under your shirt with a mix of tenderness and desperation, like he was trying to reconnect with you after all the months of separation. Percy's thumb began to trace slow circles on your hips, while his other hand explored a territory he knew by heart.
He looked up at you from beneath, his sea-green eyes locking with yours. Even the sound of the waves crashing against the camp’s beach seemed to fade into the background as you both got lost in the moment. Leaning in, he kissed you languidly.
"I love you..." he whispered.
Percy held your jaw, trying to pull you closer to him, to get as much of you as he could. The hand under your shirt slid to your back, tracing up and down your spine. Playing with the clasp of your bra.
Then—his tongue slipped into your mouth, finding yours. A low breathy moan escaped him and you melted. A soft hum vibrating in your throat.
Percy kissed you just the way Percy was supposed to kiss.
A small whimper slipped from your lips. And that’s when it hit you.
Public.
"Percy,” you tried to protest, but his name came out more like a plea than a complaint.
He smirked against your lips. His fingers toying with the clasp of your bra, teasing. That sound you just made? It should be illegal.
“Yeah, babe?” he murmured. Lips brushing against yours. His breath mixing with yours.
The beach was empty. Just you, him, and the waves. It would’ve been the perfect moment—if you weren’t ruining it.
But your boyfriend knew exactly how to fix that.
“What’s the problem?” he asked softly. His voice dropped an octave, low and smooth, like a secret.
"Percy, we’re in the open—”
“And why should that matter?”
A hand on your hip. A pull. He rolled his hips up, it was subtle. Intentional.
Your breath hitched.
He was hard.
His body was warm. His muscles tense with anticipation as he pressed you down against him. Seeking more of you. A deep, shaky breath left him as his hands roamed your body, slow and purposeful.
“Mhm...” He let his head fall back against the sand, eyes shut, lips parted.
Then, he looked at you. And that look? That look made you shiver.
His voice dropped again. Rougher now. “You... are wearing... way too many clothes.” His hand slipped under your shirt. Tracing the edge of your bra with his fingers. One swift motion and he flipped you over.
His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, your neck. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, he sucked gently, right where he knew you liked it.
“You look so good like this,” he murmured, voice husky. His eyes roamed over you, taking you in. “Make some room for me.”
He pulled back just enough. His hands found your knees, and he guided them apart, spreading your legs for him. As soon as he had room, he settled between your legs, gently pulling you to him.
A searing heat coursed through your body as Percy caught your wrists and held them above your head, his fingers tangling in the sand around them. His body pressed against yours, his weight enveloping you in the best possible way.
He leaned into you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. His eyes were fixed on your face, devouring your every feature as he drew closer. His gaze slid between your eyes and lips, taking in every detail.
"You have no idea how much I've missed this..." Percy murmured and he began to roll his hips against yours diligently as his lips sucked hickeys on your neck. His body molded perfectly against yours, and a single movement of his hips was enough to leave you dumb.
"Clothes get in the way..." He murmured, tugging at the waistband of your shorts, and you could do nothing but nod before grabbing his chin to kiss him desperately.
By the time the kiss broke, a trickle of saliva connected your swollen lips with his. A lopsided smile splits over his lips that makes your tummy flutter, and he's already thrusting against your clothed pussy.
Your own hips buck against his, and Percy can only let out grunts and curses in your ear at the sensations.
Percy would be ashamed of how he was leaking under his clothes if he wasn't too busy taking your welcome gift to really dwell on it.

NOTE;; I wrote this half-sleep, lol.
#bvrnesher#‧₊˚✧ s. posting !#pjo fandom#percy pjo#percy series#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson smut#percy jackon and the olympians#riordanverse#riordanverse x reader#pjo x reader#pjo series#pjo smut#smut#pjo fanfic#pjo hoo toa#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson fanfiction#pjo boys#pjo#smut fanfiction#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus
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i'll always say it's you ; yoon jeonghan
summary: you always used to think that even the end of the world couldn’t keep you and yoon jeonghan apart; you’d find your way back to each other somehow. ten years later, you start to wonder if that’s such a good thing after all.
contains: childhood best friends to ??? to ???, swearing, drinking (+ underage), talk of joshua and cheol's arm muscles, mention of drugs in a joke like once i think, caffeine addiction, peak delusion, jeonghan cheating in games as always, hella yearning
word count: 12.98k
a/n: this is somewhat of a mess and probably kind of inaccurate, but i hope you all enjoy!
the me of today hopes for the you of tomorrow
“What about you, Y/N? Have you ever been in love?”
Hearing your own name slowly zones you back into the conversation at the table. You pause at the question, a drop of soju splashing out of the glass in your hand.
“What?”
“Come on, it’s just a silly question,” the young intern says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no fun, Y/N. We’re off work right now! It’s fine,” he drawls, swaying a little in his chair.
You can’t really remember his name right now, downing the glass in one go, but his bold innocence bothers you. Maybe his demeanor, full of life and promise, is what gets on your nerves.
Were you like that when you were fresh out of college, too? It’s so unthinkable to you now, at twenty-nine. It feels like ages in the past.
“So? Are you —”
“I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation,” you say quietly, zipping your bag shut. “I think I’m going to head out, anyways. It’s quite late already.”
“But —”
“Chan, just stop asking questions and drink this, okay?” His friends try and calm him down with a glass of water. Amidst the chatter, you decide to slip away, silently pushing in your chair and leaving the bustling restaurant.
Dinners like this always end up making you feel worse, anyways, like an outlier at a table of people with fervent hopes and dreams of their own.
You make it two blocks until your phone begins to buzz in your pocket, and you fumble to answer it, knowing there’s only one person who would call you at nine o’clock on a Friday night.
“Hello?”
“Oh, you answered,” Yeonju says, evidently surprised. “I thought you’d still be at work.”
“I’m on my way home now,” you tell her. “Why, did something happen?”
“Kind of,” you hear rustling on her end of the line. “Jeonghan called.”
“Huh?”
You had stopped abruptly at Yeonju’s words— foolishly in the middle of the road, and you rush to the sidewalk, still reeling. It’s been so long since you’ve even heard his name that it sends your mind into a tailspin when she says it again.
“I thought you knew,” she says, “He said he tried calling you first, but you wouldn’t pick up.”
“I don’t answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved,” you remind her. You haven’t had Jeonghan’s number saved on your phone in a long time. There was no need to keep it if you never used it anymore.
“I think you should talk to him.”
“Yeonju,” you shake your head. “Why would I? There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is, and you know it, too,” she doubles down. “You won’t say it, but I know you agree with me.”
She’s right, as much as you want to pretend otherwise. When has Choi Yeonju ever been wrong about you? Sometimes it scares you how good she is at reading your mind, but as always, she delivers reality checks right when she feels like you need them.
“Maybe,” you admit begrudgingly. “But things are just easier without him.”
“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy,” she points out, “but take your own time, no rush. And take care of yourself, Y/N.”
“I will,” you say with a faint smile.
“OK, perfect. Call if you need anything else, yeah? I gotta go now.”
“Okay, Yeonju, take care.”
“Bye!”
She hangs up just as you unlock your front door, shutting it behind you and kicking off your shoes. The peace and quiet of your apartment welcomes you, and you sigh in relief as you sink into your couch.
Pulling out your phone again, you scroll through your call log. There are a few unsaved numbers, likely just spam calls, but when you see the same number four times in a row, there’s no doubt about who it might have been. Your finger hovers over the screen; should you? Shouldn’t you?
No, it’s easier to just stay angry. It’s easier to pretend his name means nothing to you anymore.
But even as you toss your phone to the side, Chan’s question still haunts you, like it’s a reminder that maybe you need to retrace your steps and do something different this time.
God, you had finally been able to go a few days without thinking about him, but today just took you right back to square one.
“Have you ever been in love?”
When you close your eyes, all you see is him.
first time feeling my heart race, never thought it'd beat so fast
TEN YEARS AGO
“Yoon Jeonghan, delete that right now or I’m going to kill you.”
Jeonghan shakes his head vehemently, still cackling at the picture of you on his phone. This is nothing new to you; over the years you’ve gotten used to him finding the absolute worst angles of you whenever you fall asleep in class, or on the bus, and it never fails to get you fuming.
In fact, if Jeonghan has one talent, it’s probably pissing you off.
“Not my fault you dozed off like that during lecture! Even Yeonju would have bullied you if she was there,” he teases. “I’ve been collecting bad Y/N photos since we were sixteen and in high school, why would I stop now?”
“You’re evil.”
“Thanks, I know.”
“Dinner’s on you, by the way.”
“What?!”
“Do you want to keep that horrendous picture or not?”
“Okay, fine,” he concedes immediately, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But we’re going back to my dorm first because I left my wallet on my desk.”
"Why would you not have that with you? Dumbass," you scold.
To anyone else, you might sound angry, but somewhere in the unspoken words, you and Jeonghan have already reconciled.
The weather is chilly and perfectly November-esque, and if not for the thick scarf around your neck you’d be shivering by now. Having Jeonghan by your side adds to the warmth spreading throughout your body, a little piece of happiness found in his company.
You’ve never needed to explain yourself to him. Somehow, whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s going on, he just knows, and it’s perfect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.
Not much to your surprise, Jeonghan’s roommate is there when the two of you walk in, blankets piled over him as he hunches over his laptop.
“Hey, Josh,” you greet him. “Everything okay?”
“No,” he frowns, rubbing his eyes, “I may have procrastinated a little too hard on this paper and now it’s due in a couple of hours and I’m totally fucked.”
“This is why I told you to drop that philosophy class at the beginning of the semester,” Jeonghan says, pocketing his wallet. “You don’t even need to take it.”
“Just trying to knock off my humanities electives, but honestly, this one kind of backfired on me,” Joshua admits, defeated. “Where are you guys headed?”
Jeonghan points at you accusingly. “This one tricked me into buying her dinner earlier.”
“I did not!” you gasp. “You walked into that one, stop blaming me for the consequences of your actions! Also, I want ramen, which means we’re going off campus, so you’re driving.”
He narrows his eyes at you as he reaches for his car keys. “You are so evil.”
"Takes one to know one, Hannie."
What throws you off is the way Joshua’s eyes flit between the both of you as you bicker, the way he tells you to have fun in that singsong voice of his as you step back out into the cold, like he knows something you don’t.
You still remember the day you first met him, when Jeonghan left to go grab something after introducing the two of you, and the question that immediately followed.
“Are you guys together or something?”
And of course, Joshua meant no harm — nobody ever does, when they ask something like that. You and Jeonghan have been fielding questions like that since the start of your friendship. Everyone’s wanted to know exactly what it is that you are to each other, and the answer has always come without missing a beat.
Friends, you’ve always said.
Friends in the way that you can’t go anywhere alone in your hometown without being asked where the other one is, the way that your parents always set out an extra plate and ask if he’s joining for dinner as usual.
The right word for it would be ‘inseparable’. Sometimes, though, you wonder if that’s all that it is.
Like now, as you notice the cold has Jeonghan trembling next to you. His teeth are chattering, long lashes framing his eyes that are now narrowed in displeasure.
When you unravel your scarf from around your neck and reach to drape it around his, they go wide in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“You never wear enough layers, idiot.” You tuck the ends into his jacket and the way he’s staring at you steals the breath out of your lungs.
You can’t run from the fact; your best friend is undeniably attractive. It’s a simple truth, down to his soft but sharp features, the slope of his cheeks, and the hair that frames his face so perfectly. It’s dark out, but Jeonghan’s eyes are lit up like stars. You don’t even realize it until you start to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
“Thanks,” he says with a faint smile. “What would I do without you?”
“Freeze, probably,” you reply flippantly, but you look away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze on you.
Just think about the way he looks at you, Y/N.
Was Yeonju right? You have no way of knowing, and you don’t want to tip the scales by bringing any of it up now.
“Alright, let’s go,” you say instead, tugging him along to the parking lot. “It’s late, I’m hungry, and you promised.”
“Why do you always seem so excited to drain my bank account?”
“It’s my favorite hobby,” you quip. “Shall we go?”
“We shall, m’lady,” he says as you get to his car, pulling open the door for you with a wink. Your cheeks burn as you get in, his defined features etched into your brain.
Yes, he’s your dearest, oldest friend, but Yoon Jeonghan has a certain way of making your head spin that throws that very title into question.
when half of me is gone, how can i live as one?
PRESENT DAY
It’s been exactly three days since Jeonghan called you, and you haven’t heard from him since then. You don’t know what you were expecting. Another call? A text?
No, it would be quite stupid to hope for such things after everything that’s happened.
It’s a quiet Monday night, and your brain decides to take an involuntary trip down memory lane. Ten years ago today, you’d probably be doing homework frantically, most definitely an assignment you’d put off until the night of. Ten years ago today, Jeonghan would be by your side.
Oh, how some things change over time.
After another hour of mindless TV and doing whatnot on your phone, your conscience finally wins the moral battle against your pride, and you scroll down through your call log again. Taking a deep breath, you decide to call him back before your brain can convince you otherwise.
All the words evaporate out of your mouth when he picks up on the first ring.
“Y/N?”
God, it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. Just the sound of your name from him is enough to make you tear up.
“... Jeonghan?”
Silence. After a few seconds your heart sinks, thinking maybe he’s hung up on you and gone radio silent yet again.
Then you hear it, just barely whispered into the phone: “I’ve missed you.”
Those words tug at your heart so badly you press your eyes closed to prevent your tears from welling up. “Jeonghan, don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I haven’t heard from you in over a year,” you cut him off. “A year, Jeonghan. Do you really think you can just ‘I miss you’ your way back into my life whenever you want?”
“Don’t say that,” he implores. “You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. I mean it.”
“I’ve heard the exact same line from you so many times,” you tell him, the rest of your words dying in your throat.
You have many more things to say to him, so many unspoken feelings, but now doesn’t feel like the time. Instead, you swallow your anger like you’ve done every time he finds his way back into your life.
“How… how have you been?”
“I’m okay. I wrote a new song,” he says lightly. “Shows have been pretty alright, things are looking up… just the usual.”
“Oh, I see.”
“What about you?”
“I’m okay, too.” A blatant lie. “Jeonghan… why’d you call me on Friday?”
“Oh,” he starts, like he’s surprised you even asked. “Um, I’m actually in town for a bit, so… I was just wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up again. Y’know, like old times.”
It’s the flippant edge in his voice that stings more than anything else, as if he doesn’t care that your friendship hasn’t been the same for years. Do you mean that little to him now?
But, like always, you have a hard time saying no to Yoon Jeonghan.
“Okay,” you agree. “Just tell me where, I guess. And when.”
“Okay.”
It’s not for a few seconds that you realize your cheeks are wet. Jeonghan feels so far away now, the distance hurts like a piercing pain and you have to slap a hand over your mouth so he doesn’t hear you sob against your couch, the stoic wall you put up crumbling away with every passing moment.
“Y/N,” his voice is shaky now. “Y/N, please don’t cry.”
Feeling caught and cornered, your brain enters fight or flight mode, and promptly chooses the latter. “I’m not,” you blurt out, and immediately end the call, tossing your phone across the room so you aren’t tempted to call him again.
If time traveling was an option, you’d go back to a decade in the past without a question. For some reason it hurts more that after all this time, Yoon Jeonghan is still the one that knows you the best.
You wake up the next morning horribly late for work, with a blinding headache and a notification from Jeonghan on your phone.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: is tonight @ semicolon cafe ok with you? after you get off work?
xxx-xxx-xxxx: i won’t take up too much of ur time, i promise
xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m so sorry y/n
you: its ok. that works, see u then
It’s well past nine o’clock when you finally enter the office. You almost make it to your desk unnoticed until your boss glances at you sneaking in.
“You’re very late,” Seungcheol observes, leaning back in his chair. His gaze is always stern, and today it makes you even more anxious than usual.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “Things just… everything kind of worked against me today. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“I believe you,” he says, casting another concerned look at you as you nearly drop your laptop going to your desk. “Is everything okay, Y/N? This really isn’t like you.”
“Yeah,” you lie through a tight smile. Damn Yoon Jeonghan and his stupid face for ruining your whole day. “Everything’s fine.”
Looking back, it’s quite impressive how you manage to keep your composure throughout your whole workday. You know you’ve accomplished a feat when even Junhui doesn’t really notice anything’s wrong.
Despite how oblivious he comes across at first, your colleague is easily one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met, as you’ve learned in the past five years you’ve spent at this company.
“Long day?” Junhui swivels around in his chair as he catches you taking a break from your screen.
“Yeah,” you admit, glancing at the clock. Almost five. “Even longer when we get asked to fix all of the intern’s mistakes. How do you just forget to write a whole method?!”
“God, I hope Lee Chan never gets hired as a backend developer. Love the kid, but I’m not sure how he got through college with his code looking like this.”
“Hard agree.”
“Hey, do you have plans after? Me and the rest of the team are probably gonna get dinner together. None of the interns,” he clarifies with a grin. “We need some peace and quiet. I think Wonwoo’s genuinely at his final straw, he’s been downstairs with them all day.”
As tempting as that sounds — Junhui has a knack for finding the best spots in Seoul — you have something more important on your plate for the day.
“Maybe next time,” you decline. “I have to meet someone after work.”
“Oh?” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Someone special?”
“It’s not a date,” you insist, face heating up.
“I never asked if it was, Y/N, you’re just outing yourself at this point.”
“It’s not!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he teases, turning back around. “Keep me posted!”
You roll your eyes.
The end of the day couldn’t have come any slower. Usually, you’d get so engrossed in whatever you were working on that you’d end up staying late, but today you shock everyone by packing up when the clock hits five, bidding Junhui a good night as you almost run to leave the building.
(“Someone’s in a rush,” he remarks when you turn your computer off. “Don’t be late on a first date, it’s not very polite!”
“Fuck off,” you respond, when Seungcheol is safely out of earshot.)
The walk home almost freezes your fingertips, and you have to shove your hands deep into your pockets to keep them from going numb. You make a note to dress accordingly for the biting cold later.
At least the weather matches your mood today.
The idea of a hot shower turns out to be a little too inviting, though, because when you finally step out, hair wrapped in a towel, it’s 6:28, and you have a text from Jeonghan waiting to be opened.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: i’m here, i snagged a table in the back
“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, pulling on an old sweater and some jeans. You don’t have time to fully dry your hair, so you just run your round brush through it a couple of times, hope for the best, and throw it into a claw clip, praying it stays up.
You’re officially twenty minutes late when you finally get to the cafe — it’s not too far from your apartment, thankfully, but you still had to book it — and you approach Jeonghan slightly panting and out of breath.
(If Junhui was right and this was actually a date, you would be royally screwed.)
“Here, sit,” he pulls out your chair, a little alarmed by your flushed face. “Were you running?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m late,” you answer, and then you look up at him and the air is knocked out of your lungs as if you weren’t already winded from getting there. He’s even more beautiful than the last time you saw him. “Wow, you…”
“I?”
You’re not even sure what the rest of that sentence was going to be, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. Snap out of it.
“Nothing,” you say quietly.
“How have you been?”
“You already asked me that.”
“I want to know more.” He’s looking at you like he’s trying to memorize your features; it’s hard to ignore.
“I don’t have anything interesting going on,” you deflect. “Tell me about what’s going on with you. You said you wrote a new song?”
Jeonghan’s face lights up when you say it. “I did. I spent around nine months rewriting and perfecting it. It’s kind of like my child, in a way.”
“Yoon Jeonghan, a father. I never thought I’d see the day.”
He laughs, and it feels like a part of your old selves is back. “Want to listen?”
You nod, and he passes you an AirPod and his phone. “Imperfect Love,” you read out loud. “That’s deep.”
“It came from a pretty raw place,” he confesses. “Something that’s kind of been on my mind for a while.”
“Something or someone?”
Jeonghan’s face reflects something akin to panic. “What are you talking about?”
“This seems like a song about unrequited love,” you deadpan. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
“Well, it’s not,” he huffs. “Don’t assume things.”
“This is the kind of update I was waiting for. You didn’t tell me you’d found someone!”
“I didn’t!” he insists, concealing a smile. “Will you just stop asking questions and listen already?”
“Alright, Mr. Unlucky in Love,” you tease, securing the AirPod in your ear and pressing play.
The instrumentals are beautiful, and Jeonghan’s angelic voice fills your ears a few seconds later. You haven’t heard him sing in a long time, and you’d forgotten just how ethereal he sounds when he’s pouring his heart into the mic.
The sunlight that happily illuminates this dark world
Becomes a star when night comes
Come down to me
There are many, many things shining in this world
But among them, you’re the only one that’s precious to me
Jeonghan is watching you nervously, like he’s anxious for what you will say. You make the mistake of catching his eyes, because immediately you falter — they are gorgeous, he is gorgeous, and it feels like you lose time with every second you spend admiring him.
Even if I can’t be the perfect weather for you
Will you still love me like this?
It feels like a silent plea — you wonder what kinds of things have happened to him in the past year that you missed, all the things you don’t know about.
Together we become old and worn out
Even if you come to me, who’s useless
At the end of a shining day
I’m happy that it’s you every day
The song comes to an end, and you hand Jeonghan’s phone back to him. His eyebrows raise, like a question.
“Did you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” you tell him honestly. “I love it.”
A smile breaks out on his face. “That’s good to hear.”
“I’m still convinced you have a secret crush that you’re not telling me about.”
“Oh, not with that again,” he grumbles, waving off your curious questions.
What you don’t tell him is that you’ve missed hearing him sing and watching him perform, that the look in his eyes when he’s doing what he loves most is something you adore. There are a lot of things like that you want to say to him, and as good as the both of you are at acting like nothing’s wrong, the situation feels awfully different this time.
“Hey.” Jeonghan has a glint in his eye, the one he usually has when he’s up to something. “Do you wanna leave and go get tteokbokki and fried dumplings at the night market stands instead?”
Your favorites, from when you were a broke college student and couldn’t afford anything nicer. How did he still remember that?
“Yeah,” you say, already grabbing your things and standing. “Let’s go.”
You had forgotten that it was cold as fuck outside.
You had also forgotten that the food stalls were in the opposite direction of your house, so now you’re stuck walking twice the distance in the freezing weather.
“Are you warm enough?” Jeonghan asks, a bit worried. Stop looking out for me, you want to scream at him. Stop caring. Stop making such a fool out of me.
“I am, but I know you’re not,” you scold instead. “I’ve been telling you for years to dress for the weather.”
“Eh, what’s a little bit of cold?” he jokes, but you catch him shivering violently out of the corner of your eye, and you can’t just watch as he suffers.
“Here.” You pull your scarf off of your neck and hold it out to him. “Wear it.”
“Are you su—”
“Wear it before I take it back.”
You wait until Jeonghan’s listened to you, the warm fabric wrapped around his neck. A part of you thinks you’ll always feel the urge to look after him.
Stop it.
“You still haven’t told me about yourself,” Jeonghan starts hesitantly. “I know I’ve probably missed a lot of things in the past few years.”
“Eight years,” you correct him. “We graduated and then you disappeared.”
“I didn’t disappear, things just got really hectic,” he tries to explain. “Like, all of a sudden everything was on my shoulders, and I had to spend all my time working towards what I wanted. That or it was all just gonna go to waste.”
“Right,” you leave it at that, not wanting to start an argument on the road. This always happens — you’ll run into Jeonghan somehow, you’ll somewhat reconcile, fight, make up, and then it’s radio silence from him again. A year after you graduated college, you stopped looking for news articles on him entirely, actively avoiding any headlines with his name in them. It hurt a little too much to bear. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
You suck in a breath at the quick response.
“Yeonju’s doing well,” you start, even though he probably knows that already. “She has a cat now, actually. She adopted him a couple of months ago.”
“Really? What’s his name?”
“Mandu, because she says he’s round and fat like a dumpling.”
Jeonghan snorts. “That’s like when Josh told us his dog’s name was Bingsu.”
“Oh, I remember that,” you say, faintly reminded of his college roommate. “Um, there’s not much else, honestly. Junhui is still a major pain in my ass, that definitely hasn’t changed.”
“Your work friend, right? I thought you two got along pretty well?”
“Yeah, we do,” you admit. You don’t need to explain any further, because Jeonghan knows that your sarcastic remarks are reserved for those you cherish the most.
“It’s been a really long time since you introduced us,” he muses. “But I still remember him pretty clearly.”
He remembers you, too, you think to yourself, recounting all the times you’ve ranted to Junhui about all the times Jeonghan got on your very last nerve. Just not as fondly.
“Oh! Wonwoo actually joined the same company two years ago. I think I told you this already,” Jeonghan confirms with a nod, “But it’s really nice getting to see him again, I missed when we used to hang out in college.”
“Aw, that must be really nice.”
“And the three of us still work for Seungcheol,” you conclude.
“I remember him, too. The one with the huge ass biceps,” Jeonghan says, a bit miffed. “I don’t think he liked me very much.”
“He doesn’t like randoms coming in during work hours, which is what you did, Han.”
“Oh. Right.”
Despite his short response, you know Jeonghan is smiling to himself right now, and you kick yourself mentally for letting the decades-old nickname slip. The two of you may be on a truce right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven him.
A few minutes later, the lanterns and lights of the night market come into view. A little piece of childhood memory burrows its way into your heart. The vendors and stalls may have changed, but you used to love visiting this street with Jeonghan when you were still students.
“I really feel so old right now,” Jeonghan remarks as he follows you through the narrow walkways. “I feel like the last time I’ve been here was when we were eighteen.”
“It probably was,” you say. “Oh! Tteokbokki!”
You don’t even realize the way you’re holding on to the sleeve of Jeonghan’s sweater as you pull him along with you in excitement. He doesn’t say anything, just chuckles to himself as he walks behind you.
“Two cups, please,” you request the vendor when you finally get to the cart, and reach for your wallet. Jeonghan stops you before you can get to your pocket.
“No way,” he says firmly. “This one’s on me.”
“Jeonghan.”
“That voice isn’t working on me this time.” He hands the vendor a couple of bills with a friendly smile. “Just let me buy dinner tonight.”
You cross your arms. “No.”
“Why not? You had no problem doing it back in college.”
“Don’t bring that up now,” you say sharply, stung by the familiar memory. Jeonghan senses the shift in your attitude and drops the subject immediately.
“Wait here,” he tells you. “I’ll be back in a second.”
What are you supposed to do with yourself? Oh, you’re a mess, you realize, the way your feelings haven’t been in check for the entire evening. You were supposed to be so calm and collected, and now you’re anything but.
“Here you go,” the vendor hands you two steaming cups of the spicy rice cakes. “One for you, one for your friend.”
“Thank you.”
The man nods towards Jeonghan, making his way back through the sea of people. “Never let go of someone who cherishes you that much,” he says offhandedly, stirring the tteok in the pot.
You just blink, confused. “What?”
Before the vendor can answer, Jeonghan’s already caught up to you again. “There was nobody in line for fried dumplings,” he tells you excitedly. “Here, have some.”
“Thanks,” you say as you exchange with him for the tteokbokki, ignoring the awkward encounter you’ve just had. “We should probably get out of the way and find somewhere to sit down.”
“Yeah, we should.”
There are a few benches at the corner of the street, and you pick the empty one under one of the streetlamps, a hazy yellow glow cast over it. Sitting down, you bite into the first dumpling, the flavor flooding into your mouth.
“Jeonghan.”
“Yes?”
“Is this shrimp?”
“Yes?” He looks adorably confused in the dim light. “You prefer seafood over pork, right?”
Your heart feels like it’s beating at double the pace. “I do,” you reassure him. “It’s really good. Thank you.”
“Try the tteokbokki, too, it’s just the right level of spicy.”
“I will.”
Just being there and enjoying the food in silence reminds you of how easy it is to just be around Jeonghan. There’s no pressure to break the quiet; it’s comforting and peaceful.
You watch him savor the tteokbokki sauce and smile to yourself when he winces slightly. He’s always had less of a spice tolerance than you.
“Jeonghan?”
“Hm?”
“Are you going to vanish on me again when you leave Seoul?”
The question stops him in his tracks. He doesn’t seem to have the words to answer, and the lack of a response makes your heart sink.
“Why are you thinking about that right now?” he says instead, chiding you gently. “Did you finish eating?”
The way you’re looking at him now, your eyes are imploring him. Please don’t make me empty promises again.
“It’s rude to answer a question with another question.”
Jeonghan rakes a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I’ve never vanished, Y/N, it’s just hard for me to leave my work that often,” he insists, “and besides, you’ve got Junhui and Yeonju and Wonwoo to entertain you in the meantime —”
“None of them are you!” Several people passing by glance over at you, but you can’t help that your voice is rising when you feel the anger bubbling up. “You’re my best friend, Jeonghan, do you have any idea how hard it’s been doing life without you?”
“Y/N, we’re past our youth,” he tries reasoning with you. “We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.”
Every word he says is like a knife to your chest. “You shouldn’t have asked to meet up today, then.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jeonghan shuts his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “I just can’t be there for you all the time in the way that you want anymore. You’re stable, you have a solid job, but my livelihood depends on my music and whether people like me or not. That’s the harsh truth of it. And I’m not getting any younger, either.”
“I’m not asking you to be there for me all the time,” you snap. “All I ever wanted was the occasional message. A few updates. Whether you’re doing okay, how your life is going, things like that. Don’t give me bullshit excuses. I know you have thirty seconds to text me back letting me know that you’re alive.”
And stop playing with my heart, you want to add. Whether you’re aware of it or not.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan swears under his breath. “Y/N, let’s calm down and talk about this inside —”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Yoon Jeonghan.” Your fists are clenched right now. Jeonghan knows this about you; you don’t get angry quite often, but when you do, you are a force to be reckoned with. “It’s always a goddamn cycle with you. You show up, make all these promises, and then abandon me again. What am I supposed to do with that?”
You’re on the verge of tears, but you can’t cry in front of him. Anywhere but here.
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he pleads with you. “I don’t know what more to say other than I’ve been trying my best, I really have been.”
You’re not having any of it. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, averting your eyes so you have time to blink the tears away.
“I mean it. I want to be there for you, but…” he trails off, voice shaky. “It’s just been so difficult.”
“Save it, Jeonghan.” You don’t think you can be here for a minute longer without totally breaking down. “I should really get going now.”
“Y/N, wait —”
“If you took the subway, there’s a station down that street if you keep walking for a few minutes.”
“Wait,” Jeonghan insists, standing. “Let me at least walk you home.”
“No need,” you retort, turning around and setting off towards your apartment. It’s even colder now that it’s completely dark out, and you start to regret your choice of coat as your teeth chatter quietly. All you can do is thug it out for the remaining three blocks to your apartment building.
The wind stings your eyes and you tear up anyway, despite your attempts to keep it down for now. Why did you think today was going to go any better than every other time this has happened?
Stupid. Your fault for thinking anything would have changed in eight years.
It’s not until you approach the entrance to your building that you hear the quiet shuffling of footsteps. You whirl around, ready to fight, but you stop short when you see Jeonghan standing several feet behind you.
“Just to make sure you got back okay,” he says quietly, walking over to you. You accept gingerly when he places your scarf back in your hands. “It’s late.”
You don’t even know how to feel; you’re too high-strung with too many lines of thought in your brain at the same time. “Thank you.”
“One more thing.” Jeonghan hands you a small plastic bag. You peer inside.
“What is this?”
“Tiramisu,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
“Oh,” you’re confused. “Why?”
It should make you even more furious that he has the audacity to give you a soft smile, but for some reason it doesn’t.
“Happy birthday, Y/N.”
The realization hits you belatedly — how did you manage to forget? — that you were so swamped with work commitments, it had totally slipped your mind today. (So that was why your phone had been constantly buzzing with notifications from Yeonju before you’d put it on silent.)
Jeonghan’s gesture, though, comes as a complete surprise, and it starts to dissipate the irritation from earlier.
“You remembered.”
“Of course,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I never forgot.”
just friends, that's not enough for me
EIGHT YEARS AGO
Normally, you are not someone who is criminally inclined.
However, it’s currently five in the morning on a day where you don’t have class until noon, so whoever is calling you at this time is most definitely going to end up six feet under.
You answer without checking who it is first, eyes still closed. “Hello?”
“Happy birthday!”
“Huh?” You lift your head just to be sure you heard correctly. “Yoon Jeonghan, it’s five a.m!”
“I know!”
“Why are you awake?”
“To tell you happy birthday?”
“Thank you, but cut the crap,” you tell him.
“I pulled an all-nighter to finish a project,” he admits. “Worth it, though. I’m the first person who told you, right?”
“You keep forgetting I live with Yeonju,” you point out, glancing over at your sleeping roommate.
“Damn it, Choi Yeonju!”
You grimace at his loud exclamation. “Jeonghan?”
“Yeah?”
“Do me a favor and let me go back to sleep.”
“Okay, but I’m waking you up at ten so you don’t skip your linear algebra class.”
“That class is at noon!”
“Yeah, and you take centuries to get ready, dumbass.”
When ten o’clock does roll around, you’re wide awake already. Yeonju is still fast asleep, so you try to get ready for class as quietly as possible.
jeonghan: i’m outside ur building
jeonghan: hurry up i’m hungry
you: ??? when u said u were gonna wake me up i thought u meant u would call
jeonghan: uhh surprise?
“Are you serious,” you mutter under your breath, haphazardly throwing an outfit on and rushing downstairs. Quickly, you press your key card against the reader and push the door open to the sight of Jeonghan leaning against the side wall.
“How long were you waiting?”
“Long enough. God, you really take forever, but I guess you get a pass because it’s your birthday,” he says begrudgingly, gesturing for you to walk with him.
The weather is quite bleak, but the slight smile on Jeonghan’s face is enough to chase the dreary atmosphere away, like your very own sun.
“Did you sleep at all?” you question, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
“I tried, but by the time I finished the project it was already seven and Joshua was up, so I just didn’t bother. That guy’s a freak, I’m telling you. I don’t know anybody else who wakes up that early just to go to the gym.”
“Well, you don’t go at all. Maybe that’s why he has those nice muscles and you don’t.”
Jeonghan’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Are you kidding? Is this why you keep coming over? To ogle Joshua Hong’s arms?”
“Yeah, cause Joshua Hong is my best friend,” you deadpan. “Is it such a crime to just appreciate a nice set of muscles?”
“Okay, okay, stop talking about Josh when you’re with me and get in the car,” he urges, fishing out his keys. “Or we’ll be late and you won’t make it to that class.”
“I don’t even go half the time,” you point out. “And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“What I can do is promise you will be happy and fed by approximately half past eleven.” Jeonghan starts the car, adjusting his mirrors. “Is that good enough for you?”
“Deal.”
It strikes you then, beneath the dim sunshine, how good he looks when he’s driving. His eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on the road, humming along to the song playing through Bluetooth. For all the jokes you throw at him for never being seen at the gym, his arms are quite toned, subtly flexed as he makes a turn with one hand on the wheel.
God, you are so done for.
A few minutes later, Jeonghan pulls into a relatively empty lot. The building is quite unassuming, but you recognize this cafe as the one you frequent during exam season for your coffee fix.
“I love this place!” you exclaim, beaming at him. “How did you know?”
“‘Cause you never shut up about it,” he quips back, grinning.. “Stay here, I’ll just be a minute.”
You hum quietly to yourself as you wait for him to come back, content where you are. There couldn’t have been a better start to your day, aside from Jeonghan’s early morning call, and you think you’d be happy to spend the day just like this, peacefully with him and your closest friends.
In truth, you aren’t really sure how to navigate things with Jeonghan at the moment. Your relationship has always been labeled as strictly platonic, but lately there have been things that make you want to think otherwise. A few stolen glances, the way he looks out for you a little extra… you think you’re going insane.
That, and the way your heart has been reacting when you make eye contact with him lately has been a bit unsettling.
(“Don’t be so delusional,” Yeonju had told you a week ago. “You have a lot to lose here if anything happens. Plus, it’s Yoon Jeonghan, everyone thinks he’s flirting with them.”
“Yeah,” you’d replied flatly. “You’re right.”)
But maybe you’re allowed to be a little selfish. Maybe those sunlit smiles and most vulnerable moments are memories reserved just for you.
The car door opens again, and Jeonghan pokes his head in, handing you a plastic bag as he gets in.
“Sustenance,” is all he says. “Eat before you go to class or I’ll have to deal with your hangry whining after.”
His words sound annoyed, but his tone is soft with you, like it usually is. You flash him a grateful smile before pulling the boxes out.
“What’s this?”
“Avocado toast, but yours has egg on it.” He wrinkles his nose with displeasure at the combination. “Plus a little sweet treat for your caffeine addiction.”
“This is beautiful,” you hold up the tiramisu box. “The caffeine is speaking to me, Hannie. We are one and the same.”
“One would think you’re on drugs.”
“One would think living with a chemistry major would teach you that caffeine is a drug,” you tease, sinking your teeth into the golden toast. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now — maybe you shouldn’t have skipped dinner last night. “Wow, this is good.”
“It is,” Jeonghan agrees, “but I’ll stick with no eggs for now.”
“You’re just ignorant and have bad taste.”
“Again, free pass only because it’s your birthday.” Jeonghan waits for you to swallow, then asks, “So, does twenty-one feel any different?”
“Nope,” you say decidedly. “Why would it? The only thing that’s changed is that drinking is legal now.”
“Oh, and you can gamble.”
“Right, but I don’t have enough savings to do that.”
Jeonghan laughs to himself at a stray memory. “Remember when I turned twenty-one? I’ve never had a night more disastrous than that one.”
“I do remember! Anyone would assume you were a raging alcoholic,” you snicker. “Even Soonyoung felt the need to sober up and help me get you back to your place. Do you know how impossible that is for him?”
Jeonghan looks like he’s questioning his whole life. “Yeah, that is pretty bad,” he admits. “Good thing it hasn’t happened since and I’m a responsible alcohol enjoyer now.”
“You drank a whole bottle of soju before your exam last week because you ‘needed to pregame’ or you’d fail it.”
“... Right.”
The two of you eat in silence, careful not to drop crumbs in his car, enjoying the midday quiet with each other’s company and nothing else. It’s moments like these with him that you cherish the most.
Yeonju’s Don’t be so delusional echoes in your head, like a silent rebuke.
“Hey, we should start heading back,” Jeonghan says, glancing at the time. “Let this be the day that Y/N graces the lecture hall with her presence.”
You groan, not wanting to spend another hour and a half trying not to doze off listening to who is possibly the most boring professor at your entire university. Jeonghan pats your back empathetically.
“It’s okay,” he consoles you, “Just think about how you’ll feel later when it’s all over and done with.”
“I’ll feel like it was a huge waste of time and I could have just asked Wonwoo to catch me up,” you grumble.
Jeonghan’s smile falters a little bit at the mention of your classmate, one of Soonyoung’s friends and therefore a part of the friend group. You still can’t figure out why Jeonghan isn’t too fond of him, but you just assume they haven’t had the opportunity to connect as much and brush it off.
“He got me through data structures last semester,” you offer, trying to defend your point. “Or I’d probably have failed.”
“Right, I remember,” Jeonghan says absentmindedly. You don’t say anything more until you’re back on campus again, picking up on his sensitive mood. When you start making your way to your lecture hall, he follows you, and you let him.
“I’ll walk you to class, I have to print something out at the student center, anyways,” he explains, bag on one shoulder. “Also, you left this in the car. Eat it after class, or whenever.”
You take the plastic bag he hands you, the faint scent of coffee filling your nose. “Thanks.”
Jeonghan fills your ears with silly stories about his friends over the short walk and you listen carefully, always happy to hear about the boys. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them anyways; you’ve been swamped with work, and time that all of you have free together is quite rare.
“I should go in now,” you tell him when you reach the hall. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you might as well, and Jeonghan can easily read the annoyance written on your face. He pats your shoulder gently.
“It’s okay,” he consoles you. “Come over later so we can all eat cake and listen to you rant about your god-awful professor.”
“Okay.”
“And so you can get an eyeful of Joshua’s arms, you freaking pervert.”
You gasp. “Am not!” you screech, punching his arm.
“Ow!”
“Take it back!”
“Not afraid to speak my truth,” Jeonghan says instead, feigning injury. “This is literally abuse.”
You roll your eyes. “Get out.”
“Go in.”
“Fine,” you huff, pulling open the double doors, but you look back over your shoulder before you let them close behind you. “See you later?”
Jeonghan nods, a twinkle in his eye.
(You won’t know it now, but this is the look on his face that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.)
“See you later.”
Choi Yeonju is, you discover, the lightweight of all lightweights.
That title had belonged to Soonyoung up until now, but tonight even he’s watching her in disbelief from where he’s perched on Joshua and Jeonghan’s couch.
“I only gave her a shot,” he promises you, eyes big and pleading. “I swear on my life.”
“I know,” you sigh, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her away from the wall she’s about to faceplant into. “It’s okay, I’ve got an eye on her.”
“Sorry,” Soonyoung offers sheepishly. “I know you were planning on getting wasted tonight.”
You were not, in fact, planning on that at all. “Who told you that?”
“Jeonghan?”
“That evil bastard.”
The evil bastard in question is currently deeply immersed in a card game with a couple of others at the small kitchen table. The subtle flush on his face tells you he’s a couple of drinks in, and if you squint enough, you can see the silhouette of cards hidden in the sleeve of his jacket. Typical.
“Y/N!” Yeonju taps your shoulder urgently. “I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
She grins. “I wanna go to the bathroom.”
“Alright, come on. You gotta stand up,” you inform her gently when she doesn’t budge from her spot on the sofa.
“Comfy,” is all she says, mumbling into the furniture.
“Do you still need to go to the bathroom?”
“No.”
Soonyoung just looks at you in total confusion and shrugs.
“Nothing to do about it until she asks again,” he says before sinking into the couch beside her. He still looks relatively sober — sober enough to handle the situation if Yeonju decides to walk into a wall again — so you tell him you’ll be right back and decide to check in on the game going on.
You walk in on a crime scene.
“You!” Seungkwan throws an accusing finger at Jeonghan, who you can tell is playing innocent through his surprised expression. “You rigged the game!”
“I didn’t do anything! I won fair and square!”
“Count the cards,” Seungkwan tells Wonwoo vengefully. “There won’t be fifty-two, I’m telling you!”
Jeonghan stands suddenly, laying his hand on the table. Everyone else is too busy yelling amongst themselves, and Wonwoo seems to be content with watching them argue, but you catch the way Jeonghan slips the cards in his sleeve into the pile unassumingly.
“Excuse me, boys,” he says smugly, “but I’m going to go on a little victory walk. Don’t mind me, enjoy!”
Seungkwan grumbles, but lets him go in favor of helping Seokmin back into the chair he’s just fallen off of. In the meantime, Jeonghan sidles up to you, faintly smelling of tequila.
“You seem very sober,” he observes.
“I am,” you laugh. “Not entirely, but sober enough to notice the cards you stashed during the game.”
Jeonghan’s face morphs into one of surprise, then mirth. “Shh,” he winks, placing a finger on your lips. That alone short-circuits your brain, so you nearly miss his next words. “It can be our little secret.”
“Oh, you are tipsy tipsy,” you murmur, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’re up for that victory walk you were talking about.”
“I am! I’m so up for it,” he announces, tucking his arm in yours. “Let’s go take a walk outside.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.”
“What’s four plus four?”
He rolls his eyes. “Ninety-two,” he says sarcastically. “Please, I’m not a lightweight like the rest of our friends.”
You cast a glance at the couch; Soonyoung has been roped into listening into whatever story Yeonju’s telling him very animatedly, sitting attentively with his back unnaturally straight. He looks a little scared of her energetic narration, which is a first for someone like him.
They should be fine, right? You don’t plan on being gone for long — usually you wouldn’t think twice about leaving Soonyoung and Yeonju together, but in their current state you’re not sure how chaotic they’ll get.
“They’ll be fine.” Jeonghan mirrors your thoughts as if he’s read your mind. His voice feels a little too close, like his lips are right by your ear. Too close, too close — you’re faintly aware of your breathing accelerating, heart running on sheer adrenaline.
By the time you snap out of it, he’s already at the door, turning to find you when he realizes you’re not next to him. “Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” is all you can manage before you grab your coat off the hook and follow him out the door. A part of you wishes Yeonju was sober so she could slap the delusion out of you.
Jeonghan opts for the stairs — “We’re only on the second floor!” — and is waiting patiently at the main door for you. The smile he greets you with is blinding, and his eyes crinkle a little more when you return it.
“Did you bring your keys?”
“Right here.” Jeonghan pats his pocket reassuringly and pulls the door open. “After you, m’lady.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” you laugh, reveling in the moment.
It’s windy outside, and you glance over at Jeonghan, satisfied to see that he’s dressed warmly for once. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and for a man his size, his thick sweater is draped over his body in a way that makes him look a little smaller. It’s adorable, and it just makes you want to reach over and squish his cheeks.
“You’re awfully quiet for a man who just won a game against Boo Seungkwan,” you tease gently. Jeonghan chuckles, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.
“Nothing new,” he says. “Seungkwan just has bad strategy and won’t admit it.”
“Or you just enjoy cheating a little too much.”
He gives you a knowing smile. “Touché.”
You’re not exactly sure where you’re going; you don’t think Jeonghan does, either, but the two of you fall in step together perfectly on the sidewalk. It’s not too late yet, maybe nine or ten, and the streets are relatively crowded, as expected for a college city.
“Do you think we’ll be really different when we’re thirty?”
You look at Jeonghan, a bit surprised at the question. “What do you mean?”
“Like, we’re twenty-one now,” he explains, “Remember when we were sixteen? We had so many ideas about what we were gonna be, and we’re already there. Five years passed so quickly.”
You nod, reminiscent of your childhood days. “We’re gonna hit thirty before we know it.”
“Do you think I’ll be bald by thirty?”
“If you are, I’ll take lots of pictures of you and your shiny head,” you joke. “For memories.”
“Noo, not my hair,” Jeonghan laments theatrically. “My gorgeous, gorgeous hair.”
You can’t even counter that, because it’s true: Jeonghan must have won the gene pool because his hair has always been soft and silky. It’s longer now than it used to be, curling a little bit just under his ears and brushing the back of his neck.
“Soonyoung’s been campaigning for you to go platinum blond,” you inform him. “He keeps saying if you do it, he’ll dye his whole head bright yellow.”
“Highlighter Soonyoung is really not something I want to see.”
The more the wind picks up, the tighter Jeonghan has his arm looped around yours. His lips are pursed, like he’s preoccupied with something else.
“Y/N.”
“Yes?”
“Are we still gonna be friends when we’re thirty years old?”
The subtle, vulnerable tone in his voice surprises you a little bit. Drunk words are sober thoughts, you suppose.
You try to cheer him up, saying, “Why, did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“No,” he shakes his head firmly. “Everything is so much easier with you.”
Don’t be delusional, don’t be delusional, is the mantra in your head as you attempt to ignore your rapid heartbeat. The truth is that you agree — the way Jeonghan just gets you makes things so uncomplicated and free.
It’s been this way since middle school, when twelve-year-old you found home in the boy who always helped you sneak snacks from your desk during class when the teacher wasn’t watching.
Jeonghan has always been the first person you think of in a sticky situation; he’s always been reliable, above all, because he knows you would do the same for him without even needing to think about it. He’s been by your side for so long, you can’t even picture what a life without him would look like now.
Your next words would never see the light of day had Jeonghan been sober, but you suppose you can get away with erring on the side of honesty.
“Me too,” you tell him quietly, holding onto him just a little bit tighter. “I like life a little better when it’s with you.”
because i love you, because saying i love you isn't enough
PRESENT DAY
The office is quiet when it’s late at night; there aren’t many people who enjoy staying past their stated hours, but you figure it can’t hurt to finish some additional tasks when you don’t really have much to go home to. You can’t remember the last time you had a day to yourself without worrying about deadlines; the lines of code haunt you in your sleep and fill every waking hour. Every night spent working overtime is a testament to your determination, though it crumbles it a little each time.
Today, though, you’re joined by Junhui and Wonwoo, the three of you working under the dim light. The rest of your team packed up and left hours ago, so it’s just you on this floor of the building.
“I feel like my eyes are melting in their sockets,” Junhui complains, stretching for the first time in what you think is a solid eight hours. “I don’t know how Wonwoo does it.”
“He’s a machine,” you joke. He’s got headphones on, most probably noise canceling, so you know he can’t hear you two. (Or he’s choosing not to.) “I just don’t want to go home with this stuff unfinished because I know I won’t stop thinking about it all night.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pulled an all-nighter in the office.”
“Unfortunately.”
Junhui frowns. “You need to take time for yourself,” he expresses. You let him lecture you, even though he’s younger. “Do stuff that you enjoy that doesn’t involve writing code. You know, enrich your personal life.”
“Maybe,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands. “There’s barely any time as of now.”
“Speaking of personal lives, I still can’t believe you won’t tell me about your date,” he sulks. “You’ve always come back with stories about your dates.”
“There haven’t even been that many,” you say at the same time Wonwoo turns around with his headphones off of one ear, asking, “Date? Really?”
You give the man a look. “You didn’t hear us say your name, but that was what caught your attention?”
“Well, Jun’s always talking, but the last time you went on a date was two years ago, so this is news to me.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Junhui reasons. “Everyone has bad dates. It’s a universal experience.”
“Okay, first of all, it was not a date,” you clarify. “I just met up with a friend from college.”
This piques Wonwoo’s interest. “Wait, really? Who?”
“Right, I keep forgetting you guys went to college together,” Junhui mutters under his breath.
“Did you see Yeonju again?”
“It was nobody,” you lie through your teeth, kicking yourself internally for your choice of words. As much as both men know about your ongoing tug-of-war situation with Jeonghan, you don’t really want to bring it up in conversation, and definitely not now of all times. “It went fine, just some catching up.”
“So it wasn’t a date?”
“You really need to stop believing everything Junhui tells you without fact checking it first.”
“Damn,” he says. “And we thought you were finally getting some action.”
“Wonwoo!”
The conversation is interrupted by the low rumble of your stomach in the few seconds of silence that pass afterwards. Both men turn to look at you expectantly.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll order takeout,” Wonwoo volunteers, already reaching for his phone. “Is kimchi fried rice okay with you guys?”
“Fine by me.”
“With pork?” Junhui asks hopefully.
“Done.”
The three of you promptly get back to work, aiming to maximize the amount of work you get done before the food arrives and you inevitably break focus. By the time the delivery notification goes off on Wonwoo’s phone, you’ve knocked off about three quarters of your to-do list for the day.
Good enough, you reassure yourself, pulling the sticky note off of your desk and flicking it into the trash can.
Junhui eats in a record time of ten minutes — you swear you’ve never seen him scarf down food this fast before — and starts packing up at his desk, dropping off a couple of notes on Seungcheol’s desk for tomorrow morning’s meeting.
“My girlfriend is going to be so upset if I’m not home soon,” he says ruefully, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Take care, guys! And thanks for dinner, Wonwoo, I owe you one.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
You and Wonwoo finish not too long after, and you take your time cleaning up the place, making sure everything is thrown away and in its place.
“Are you ready to lock up and go?”
“Yeah, let’s head out.”
It’s not until you’re in the elevator, heading to the parking garage, that Wonwoo speaks up again. A little hesitantly at first, but the concern in his tone is still evident.
“Hey, has everything been good with you lately?”
“Hm?” You look at him curiously, wondering what it was that made him ask. “Yeah, why?”
He shrugs, looking down at you through thick-rimmed glasses. “Just haven’t checked in with you in a bit. Seungcheol’s needed me all over the place lately, so it’s been a while since I caught up with you guys.”
“Right, you’ve been in back to back meetings with the design team,” you muse. “Seolhwa was talking about how chaotic it’s been in the restroom earlier.”
“Yeah, it’s been pretty tough.”
The elevator opens with a ding! and you follow him out, fishing for your keys that are probably somewhere in one of your pockets.
“I parked a little far,” you tell him, “so I’ll get going now. But I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting, right?”
Wonwoo just looks at you gently, like he’s seeing right through you.
“Jeonghan’s the one you met up with, isn’t he?”
You freeze. “What?”
“I had a feeling, but it was a little more obvious when you started getting defensive,” he chuckles. “Plus, I think you forget I’ve known you for nearly a decade now.”
You allow yourself to breathe, relaxing the taut muscles in your neck. “I didn’t want to make it awkward,” you admit. “I know you said you guys still keep in touch sometimes. I don’t want to make it weird.”
Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. “Just for birthdays and things like that. We weren’t really that close in college, either.”
Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent, eyes glued to the ground. He seems to sense this and drops the matter, reaching over to pat your shoulder.
“I won’t pry,” he says lightly, “But if you ever want to talk about it, just know you can always call up an old friend.”
You smile. “Thanks, Wonwoo.”
“Take care, Y/N. Get home safe.”
The drive home is numbing. The playlist you have on dulls into background noise as you focus on the road, fighting the urge to yawn. It’s nearly eleven o’clock at night, and all you want is to be back in your bed.
At the back of your mind, all you can think about is the text you woke up to this morning.
yoon jeonghan: hey, i just wanted to tell you tomorrow is my last day in seoul
yoon jeonghan: i don’t know if you want to see me or not, but i’ll be at semicolon cafe working for most of the day. pls drop by if you have some free time. i really miss you.
So typical of him, to leave it up to you to go find him. And yet, you would — if it came down to it, you would go to the ends of the earth if he asked you to.
Yeonju would be furious if you told her you were even considering it, you scold yourself. After all, she’d only told you to speak to him once for your own peace of mind. Last week should have given you all the closure you needed.
Still, your conscience is swayed at the idea of being able to see him again.
You shake the thoughts out of your head, as if the subtle action could erase the pain and longing you’ve felt for the past eight years.
The traffic light turns green. You step on the gas and don’t look back.
even if i can't be the perfect weather for you, will you still love me like this?
SIX YEARS AGO
Jeonghan has been in the studio for hours.
Nothing seems to sound right, and the frustration makes him want to pull his hair out. He can’t even remember the last time he got out of the chair, but he doesn’t want to lose even a little bit of whatever workflow he’s managed to maintain while he’s been in here.
Occasionally, when the weather is just a little dull and time seems to tick by too slowly, he wonders if he made the right choice. Maybe he should have stuck with his career, actually put his degree to use, instead of setting it aside in the name of passion.
He’s vocalized these thoughts to his manager many times, and Jihoon is awfully good at raising his spirits, but the self doubt seeping into his soul is very hard to ignore.
Reluctantly, he presses the play button again, whatever he’s conjured up in the last couple of hours playing in his headphones again. It doesn’t sound any better this time.
Yes, he could swallow his pride and ask Jihoon for help, but after a year and a half of unsuccessful ventures in the music industry, he wants to be able to do something on his own.
Prove himself; to Jihoon, the world, and you.
Jeonghan will never forget your only words to him when he’d first revealed his plan to switch career paths, just a month or two before graduation.
(“I always believe in you,” you’d said, following it up with a comforting hug.
“Always?”
“Always.”)
And when you said that with such conviction, placing all of that trust and belief in his hands, he knew there was no way he could turn back on what he’d set his sights on. In truth, on days where things just seem so bleak, you are his strength, and he wishes he could tell you that.
But when your name comes through on his phone, he falters.
What is he supposed to say? All he can give is excuses, that nothing’s really worked, nothing has panned out in his favor yet. As it is, the two of you haven’t spoken that much since graduating, both of you occupied with your own goals and careers, and at times like these he feels your absence a little extra.
Is this what it means to grow up and grow apart?
For now, he ignores the buzzing, telling himself he’ll come back when he’s snagged his first real achievement. You’ll be proud of him, and he’ll finally make something of himself.
Jihoon walks into the room, closing the door quietly, right when he’s about to listen to the track for maybe the hundredth time.
“Oh, hey.” Jeonghan can hear the exhaustion in his own voice. “What’s up?”
“Wondering when the last time you slept was.” Jihoon sinks into the chair beside him, trying to lighten the mood. “You look like a zombie.”
“Yeah, I feel like one.”
“You need to spend less time in here,” Jihoon advises gently. “Or you’re going to lose your mind. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“I just can’t figure out what it is I’m missing,” Jeonghan sighs, evidently frustrated. “It’s like, almost there, but not really. It’s been killing me for days.”
“You know, these things do take time.”
“Or maybe I’m just not cut out for this and I should just go work for a news channel instead.”
Jihoon watches him carefully, picking up on his slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “And then you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you held on just a little bit longer. Do you really want that?”
Jeonghan doesn’t really know what else to say. He’s been hearing the same things from everyone around him — his parents, his sister; everyone talks of a future where he’s already succeeded, but that isn’t set in stone. Nothing is promised, he knows.
“I need a miracle,” he mumbles instead.
“You need to eat,” Jihoon corrects. “I just placed an order for dinner, and I know you like sundubu-jjigae, so you have no excuse to bail on me this time.”
Jeonghan considers this for a moment, then gives in. “Fine,” he says, “but I can’t stay too long.”
“Good.” Jihoon rises, and then places a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been working really hard.”
“Thank you.”
He’s alone again, when the door closes behind the shorter man. It’s something he’s had to get used to; he’s learned to rely on himself over the past year or so, but when the reality of loneliness sinks in, it breaks his heart just a little.
Even more so knowing that it’s his fault that he’s pushed everyone away, including you.
Your name is still burned into Jeonghan’s brain, and his fingers itch to respond, but he ignores the urge. His phone is left forgotten as he slips his headphones on again, tinkering with the unfinished track.
And the thought of you dissolves into the music.
we used to be best friends, i remember you said you can be yourself when i'm around
PRESENT DAY
Today is the day that Choi Seungcheol learns that you are full of surprises.
In all your five years of working for him, he’s never once had you call in sick for work or ask for a day off. You’ve always been hard-working, maybe too much at times, but he sounds like he definitely didn’t anticipate this.
“Oh,” is all he says when you request the morning off. “Yeah, sure. Are you feeling alright?”
“Not really, but I will be before the client meeting at three, so I’ll be present for that.”
“Oh, all right. We’ll see you then.”
“See you.”
It weighs on your conscience that the first time you request time off also happens to be the first time you blatantly lie to your boss, but you’ve already deliberated this enough with Yeonju over call last night.
(“I’ve been such an honest worker,” you said dramatically, “and now I’m running all that to the ground.”
“Don’t be so theatrical. Choi Seungcheol can afford to give you half a day of paid leave.”)
Now that you’ve settled that, you grab your heavy winter coat, setting out into the morning cold. Damn Yoon Jeonghan for making you move your whole day around for him. You had predicted correctly that Yeonju would berate you for it — you sat through a lecture over the phone last night — but that hadn’t deterred your resolve to see him again.
Who knows? His behavior is so erratic that even you, who knew him like the back of your hand at one point, can’t predict him anymore. Today could very well be the last time you see him for another few years until he decides he has the time for you again.
Whatever, you huff to yourself as you walk briskly, knowing that as upset as you get, the soft spot you harbor for him will never go away.
You had worried that it would be a little too early, since it’s only eight in the morning, but you have no problem finding Jeonghan in the sea of caffeine-deprived corporate workers getting their fix in the small establishment. He’s engrossed in his laptop, and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you take the seat across from him, waiting for him to look up.
“Oh,” is all he says, pushing his screen down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
You sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think I would, either.”
Jeonghan gives you a sorrowful look, hair fluffy like a halo around his face. “I’m trying, I really am.”
“Jeonghan —”
“I’m juggling so many things at once,” he says quietly. “And I never wanted you to think any less of me. I wanted you to be proud of me..”
“I was. I still am.”
“But I still haven’t done anything.” He sounds more agitated as he speaks. “I haven’t gotten anywhere, I’ve barely made a name for myself. Nothing I do is paying off.”
“You’re trying, though,” you tell him. It saddens you to see him like this. It’s not often that Jeonghan talks about how he feels, especially not now that you’ve grown so distant. “And you don’t have to go off and accomplish great things for me to be proud of you. I already am.”
He’s quiet, like he’s dwelling on something.
“I’m sorry,” he says a few seconds later. “It’s just all been such a mess.”
“That’s okay.”
In the silence between those two words are many more that don’t need to be spoken for him to understand. You’re doing okay. Everything will turn out okay.
“I wish things could go back to the way they were,” he says again, eyes a little shiny when he looks back at you.
Nostalgia fills your brain, all of those treasured memories with him resting in a well-lit corner of your heart.
“You know, it really hurts, Han, to keep doing this push and pull with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“Don’t apologize,” he laughs wistfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I never meant to hurt you, Y/N, honestly. And I’m really trying to be better about it. Things are looking up now, I think. It’s getting a little easier than before.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I knew you could do it.”
“How…” Jeonghan starts tentatively. “How long are you here for?”
“I’m not sure,” you reply, fidgeting with one of your bracelets. “Not too long.”
“Are you going to have something to eat?” An olive branch.
“I have food I meal-prepped at home.” A subtle denial.
The silence is loud. You try to think of something, anything to say to fill it, but you come up blank. There’s not much else to be said in the fraught air between the two of you. Not now, anyways.
“I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say suddenly, eyes landing on his half shut laptop. “I didn’t mean to take time out of your day.”
“That’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I got to see you.”
“Have a safe trip to… wherever you’re going.”
He chuckles. “Just Jeju, but thank you.”
Before you leave, you reach for the scarf loosely wrapped around your neck — your favorite one you’ve had since college, the plaid cream-colored one — and you set it down on the table. He just looks at you questioningly.
“Why…?”
“It’s cold,” you say with a faint smile. “You haven’t changed, Yoon Jeonghan.”
“Thank you.”
You take the time to memorize him — the curve of his face, the soft look in his eyes, the one reserved for you and the ones he holds close. If you could etch his features in your brain here and now, you would.
“Well,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Don’t be a stranger, Han. The next time I see your name, it better be a call from you instead of another news headline.”
Jeonghan nods, eyes forming crescents. “I’ll do my best.”
And there is something to be said about the love in looking back, for sure, but there is also love in not looking back, in choosing to keep your eyes trained on the path before you. There is love in knowing your weaknesses, that if you turn around you might not be able to walk away after all.
You don’t release the breath you’re holding until you walk out the door. It’s raining, you realize with a start, the previously clear sky clouded over. It seems that your overcast heart has been mirrored by the earth.
The rhythmic droplets provide a strange sense of comfort as you let yourself get soaked, for lack of an umbrella. It works in your favor, anyway, because nobody will assume anything’s amiss if your face is already drenched.
Pit, pat. The smell of wet soil rises in your nostrils, and you let the tears fall.
no matter where i am in the world, i'll say it's you
FOUR YEARS LATER
The lights are blinding, and the sounds of the camera shutters are incessant. But this is the life Jeonghan has always dreamed of, so he doesn’t dare complain.
In truth, he doesn’t care for a lot of the interviews he’s been asked to do — he can’t be bothered by the mundane, mind-numbing questions he gets asked over and over again. Nothing ticks him off like the insensitive digs into his personal life they always ask him, searching for information he doesn’t wish to disclose.
But he does it, anyway, because what choice does he really have? It’s good for your image, Jihoon always tells him, adding another event to his schedule. It’s for your public platform.
“So, you’ve come out with another hit single,” the interviewer starts, beaming at him. His teeth are so artificially white, they seem to reflect the bright studio lights. “How does it feel to accomplish such a success yet again?”
“It’s really great,” Jeonghan answers honestly. “I’m very grateful to my manager, producer, and my beloved family. And, of course, all of the wonderful fans. I couldn’t have done any of this without them.”
“A touching answer as always, Jeonghan-ssi.” The man flashes a smile at the cameras. “Your new single To You was really well received by fans, especially for its fresh and passionate take on what it feels like to be in love.”
The blazer feels stiff now, under the heat of the lights. Jeonghan tries not to dwell too deeply on the true inspiration for the song he’d written late at night a couple years ago, overcome by his own heart.
“I’m really glad that everyone’s been enjoying it so much. That really was the intention,” he says, “to have a song that makes you feel like you’re floating.”
“And it does!” the interviewer laughs. “A lot of viewers really appreciated the sincerity of feelings that was conveyed through the song. Which raised the question; have you ever been in love before?”
Something akin to a late realization suddenly hits Jeonghan right there in the hot seat, under all those lights and cameras. His hand comes up to toy with the end of the scarf he’s wearing, a keepsake of treasured memories.
“Maybe,” he says with a wistful smile.
Wherever you are in the world right now, there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re watching.
“Maybe I have.”
thank you for reading! if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear it. much love, ashi xx
#jeonghan x reader#svt#seventeen#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt one shot#svt fics#svt jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#jeonghan friends to lovers#jeonghan one shot#jeonghan fics#kpop fanfic
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just realized i NEVER posted this to tumblr??? HELLO??? if it wasn't for ao3 this shit would have been lost media because i literally cannot find it in my google docs??? HELP???
ANYWAYS!! WELCOME TO WHAT THE TWST BOYS LEFT YOU WITH AFTER YOU BROKE UP
its bittersweet. you guys broke up on good terms. post-formatting auburn here and omfg what was i THINKING this shit HURTED. OW. CRITICAL HIT I NEED A HEALER. FUCK.

Riddle Rosehearts leaves you with an appreciation for learning, a strong sense of awe at the bookshelves lining the walls of NRC’s library. He leaves you with a pen, tucked at the bottom of your backpack that you forget about until a late night study session. You find it and giggle, remembering the time he gave it to you when yours ran out of ink, and you begin to take notes with the red-rose ink.
Trey Clover leaves you with a sense of nurture. You pick up cues from people that you never would have seen before and know exactly how to act, and it isn’t until you find yourself “babying” Ace that you step back and laugh. Of course Trey rubbed off on you, he always was taking care of you with nobody to help out him.
Cater Diamond leaves you with extensive knowledge of camera angles. When you’re taking pictures with your friends or just you, it's like you know exactly which filter would look best with every shot. Sometimes you’ll stumble upon a filter you only ever used on his pics, and you’re filled with a bittersweet happiness. Simple photo editing holds so many memories, and you can only hope he’s making new ones, too.
Deuce Spade leaves you with a motivation to protect yourself. When you started dating him all that time ago, he insisted on giving you some form of self defense lessons just so you could protect yourself. He made you more confident, even if he never knew it. You’ll always be thankful for the way he unknowingly made you stand up straighter, like you were proud to be yourself.
Ace Trappola leaves you with a lighter soul. He’s always been a goofy person, and you know full well that he’s never changed. He made you way more optimistic just by dealing with things the way he did, always being true to his heart no matter who he was speaking to. You always admired that about him, and it made you feel like you could be more like yourself even when he wasn’t there anymore.
Leona Kingscholar leaves you with a piece of his pride. He always told you to keep your head up especially when you’re scared half to death. You find yourself using his advice every time you face a situation you’d rather not be in, and slowly conquer everything that used to freak you out. You finally glow with the pride that you know he would have been so proud of if he was still with you, but you’re starting to think that maybe he’s proud of you anyway.
Ruggie Bucchi leaves you with a determination to constantly fight for better. You need to make the best of your circumstances, being transported to a world where you’re powerless with nothing but the shirt on your back. He’s taught you to be crafty and resourceful, and to never let yourself be taken advantage of. You can’t thank him enough...and really, you can’t anymore, but that’s okay.
Jack Howl leaves a carefully planned school year in his wake. You find yourself planning out your day, little events scribbled into your calendar and schedules created in the margins of your notebook. Jack had always reminded you of things and you wanted to let him know how much you valued his efforts to keep you on track, so you started writing down his schedules too. It isn’t until you flip back through your notebook to find older notes that you see “Track and Field Meet - 5pm” and feel a pang in your heart.
Azul Ashengrotto leaves you with a ton of home-economics knowledge. Long after you two have broken up, you still find yourself checking on your monthly expenses and tweaking your meal plans, and it isn’t until you’re laying in bed one night that you realize you wouldn’t be nearly as efficient as you are now if it wasn’t for your previous sweetheart.
Jade Leech leaves you with a fascination for the world around you. He took things that you didn’t think twice about and twisted them into beautiful sights, and you never quite looked at them the same way. It’s not a bad thing, it’s quite the opposite, actually. Your world has never been more beautiful, even if the boy that opened your eyes isn’t there to see it with you.
Floyd Leech leaves you with a restless need to do something. Sometimes, during your down time, you’ll set down your phone and start pacing around your room, wondering why your legs just can’t seem to sit still. Then something clicks—Floyd used to barge into your dorm and dance with you at random intervals, but he doesn’t do that as much anymore. Laughing to yourself, you slip on a coat and decide to take a walk—anything to get the fidgeting out of your system.
Kalim Al-Asim leaves you with a brighter smile and higher patience. You’d always had to chase after him on whatever misadventure he decided to go on that day, apologizing to Jamil with a wobbly smile on your face once the day was done. Kalim never failed to make things brighter, even your breakup. You two still hang out sometimes, but you aren’t as close as you used to be, even if the memories of your adventures remain.
Jamil Viper leaves you with some of his best recipes. It may seem silly or insignificant to anyone else, but you know exactly how much time he spent cooking and baking for Kalim and his entire dorm on a daily basis. He even found time to bring you and his club snacks occasionally. You still know how to make his favorite curry, and if a recipe calls for dates you scratch them out from the ingredients out of habit.
Vil Schoenheit leaves you feeling beautiful. He never once looked at you wrong, whether you had just woken up or had gotten into another mud fight with Grim or if you were wearing a swimsuit. There was nothing but love in his gaze and a reminder to keep your head up on his tongue, because in his eyes you were precious. Because to Vil, you were unapologetically beautiful (and you still are. You always will be.)
Rook Hunt leaves you with an eye for detail. After picking up on everything you did and telling you about every habit he examined, you became keenly aware of your habits and how to manage them. You’re far more observant when it comes to your own self care, and you know you wouldn’t be as diligent if it wasn’t for the insistence of your ex.
Epel Felmier leaves you with a love for nature. You’re hyper aware of how long it takes apple trees to grow and what you can do to help them along. You whisper to your plants now and sing little songs to them and you water them. Your friends have even started coming to you for pointers, and despite the fact that Epel isn’t your partner anymore, you refer them to him automatically.
Idia Shroud leaves you with an absurd amount of techy knowledge. With all the gadgets Ramshackle has because of him, you’re thankful he took the time to explain how they worked. The gifts he made for you almost make the fact that he had to end things with you because of his...family business and that you’ll likely never see him again easier to swallow.
Malleus Draconia leaves you with a greater love for the night sky. You had a person to share the sight of the stars with for once, someone who loved looking up at them just as much as you did. You can still feel the chill of his hand over yours as he reached for it, holding it like you were the most precious treasure of all. Now, when you look up at the stars, you feel a pain of longing in your chest. You miss him.
Lilia Vanrouge leaves you with knowledge of the worlds you’ll never see. You find yourself drawing parallels between this world, your world, and the mystical places Lilia used to talk about. Even Trein has been impressed by the knowledge you’ve displayed in his essays despite not being from this world, and you can only force a laugh.
Silver leaves you with a safety net, something you can use to calm down whenever. His childhood lullaby. He sang it for you time and time again when you were having trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar place when your anxiety got a bit too much. Whenever you have a nightmare now, you find yourself humming the old Briar Valley tune, in hopes that it will give you some comfort.
Sebek Zigvolt leaves you with a greater appreciation for reading (and a pile of bookmarks tucked in an old leather box he presented when he started “courting” you.) You still find yourself exiting Ramshackle on the weekends, and heading to that very same tree you two used to read under. There’s a part of you that wants to look for him, to check and see if he’s also heading to your tree, but you don’t.
#auburn's fics <3#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#disney twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#silver x reader#twst silver x reader
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4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free
Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!
Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization
My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red
Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4
Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.
You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.
And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.
So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.
Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.
Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.
Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!
Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.
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FAMILY...

Contents — Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Scientist Reader
Synopsis — yes, yes we know you are neglected by the batfam, but you don't care about that at all, not when you could have much more interesting things to do, you don't have time to neglect, you just want to grow and create your own own magnificent creations alone, well, think again, because now, it seems that fate has decided to stop you from doing this, you were very intelligent, but your intelligence led you to your fatal destiny, and now you only have your family... Your single family...
Warning — neglect, blood, swearing, mentions of drugs, hallucinations, deaths, torture, Jason being Jason, time travel, story created for pure entertainment...
Author's note — hello, welcome, decide to do a genderless reader this time, I hope you like it, I haven't thought of a nickname yet, but I will, I hope you like it, it's just an idea I had in my head, sorry If it's not good, I'm not a professional, and my language isn't English, so if there are any errors, I'm sorry, well that's it, enjoy.
Don't cry, your family just came to pick you up...
your footsteps are heard as you pass through yet another room, you can very well hear the screams of torture and pain as your mother smiles softly at the sight of you, she looks like an angel, but you know your mother, you know she is just manipulating you, but that doesn't even matter, after all, you only have her, and you just don't want to be with your father, you hate him...
Your footsteps stopped as you stood next to your mother and she placed a hand on your shoulder as she looked at the man writhing in pain, blood coming out of his eyes from the poison and a crazed smile from the drugs they injected into him. .
Your mom always made you watch this, so you got used to it...
A sigh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes and quickly looked around, your hands found the cord around your neck and you sighed again only in relief this time.
You got up and sat on the bed before getting up while approaching the window, the sun wasn't even up yet, turning around you just walked to the door your footsteps couldn't be heard, you learned that from your mother...
Opening the door you walked out and closed the door behind yourself as you walked down the silent hallway of the mansion, your hands running along the cold and dull walls of the mansion, you ignored the voices whispering in your ear and continued walking calmly.
Of course you noticed, who wouldn't notice the child on their own side...
Yes, you know she isn't staying, but that doesn't stop you from raising your hand to touch a strand of the poor child's hair, and as always your hand went through the girl and a sigh escaped your lips as you continued walking in silence...
Walking down the stairs slowly your eyes silently observed your surroundings, your silent steps as you approached the door, but something stopped you and your eyes went towards the little girl next to you...
— "You shouldn't go out again, not this time... He's angry... he's going to take it out on you again..."
Of course the little girl's voice was heard in your thoughts, and a sigh escaped your lips as you opened the door and walked out calmly with the little girl following by your side...it's not like she could leave anyway... She's stuck with you...for eternity and you'd rather it stay that way...
Forever...
Just you and her...
Just you and your sister......
A sigh escaped his lips as he looked out the window and watched you leave again, a curse left his lips as he scoffed softly and watched you leave until he couldn't see you anymore.
A smile formed on his lips and he slowly opened the window as he climbed out the window, the darkness once again being silent.
Unlike the others, he hates liars...
Liars remind him of his mother...
Silence...
Silence was what Bruce heard that morning, they were having breakfast, and strangely enough the table was silent, Damien wasn't trying to fight with anyone and he wasn't making rude comments to anyone...
'that's not good...'
His eyes looked from Damien to you, who as always was quiet, but much quieter than usual.
"So... Did anything interesting happen yesterday?"
Bruce's thoughts are interrupted when he hears Dick's voice and he looks at Dick who was looking at Damien.
"Hm?...oh no, nothing that's really that interesting..."
Damien answers his question more calmly than usual and his eyes move from Dick's face to yours, watching you eat your breakfast calmly, making him close his hands into fists with a little force and he looks back at his breakfast calmly
'Idiot... How can you keep that expression when you know what you did yesterday...'
The thought crosses Damien's mind as he tightens his grip on his fists, this act not going unnoticed by Bruce making him frown in confusion.
They don't usually have breakfast together, but Bruce thought it would be a good idea, but Damien's behavior left him confused, what happened to make him so angry that he didn't show it?
A sigh escapes his lips as he looks at the man on the ground, of course he knows the man is dead, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to beat him, he only stopped because Bruce called him.
Jason raises an eyebrow in curiosity as he reads Bruce's message and another sigh escapes his lips.
'that brat... What is he up to this time?..."
Jason stops thinking and turns around leaving the Man's lifeless body behind, not before taking the necklace that the man was going to give to his wife, Jason looks at the box with the necklace and smiles thinking for a moment before turning around and walk back out of the warehouse while keeping the box in your jacket pocket.
'he won't need it if he's dead...'
He looked at the screen as it glitched and a sigh of frustration escaped his lips as he typed away trying to retrieve the Security Camera footage from yesterday, without success again.
What happened yesterday?, what made Damien so angry?, and worse, what happened to make Damien follow you everywhere...
'Maybe it's just a glitch in the security camera...'
The thought crosses his mind and one last sigh of frustration escapes Tim's lips again.
His footsteps are heard as his shoe taps against the floor and he clenches his fists tighter before finally seeing the person he's been waiting for.
You stopped walking when you felt the blade of Damien's katana on your neck and turned to look at him calmly causing a small cut to remain on your neck.
"You can lie and deceive them, but you will never deceive me, I know what you did... I saw you..."
Damien's words sound like venom as he looks at you seriously, but with a hint of anger.
"You really must think I'm some fortune teller to know what you're talking about"
As soon as the words left your lips, Damien's katana was already inches from the skin on your neck, but you only glanced at the katana before returning your gaze to his eyes, making visual contact.
"Don't act innocent, we both know you're not, don't try to act innocent... I'm not an idiot like them, I know what you did, so think carefully about your words, because from now on, you will have to deal with me, I don't care if you have to play the role of good and exemplary little sister/little brother, but I will be by your side at all times and at any moment, I won't let you do what you did yesterday, it doesn't matter whether we are related or not, I still won't hesitate to cut your throat"
Damien's words hang in the air with venom, but as he looked into your eyes, he saw that it didn't affect you, as you just moved the katana away from your neck and turned around before starting to walk, making Damien stand still for a few seconds. before quickly following behind you.
'I will keep you if necessary... Who do I want to fool... I will definitely protect you again... Just like I did yesterday...'
Damien's thoughts fall silent as he shakes his head slightly and continues following behind you as you disappear into the halls of Wayne Manor.
Elsewhere in Gotham City it is possible to see something shining before someone falls to the ground standing up while even his own there were more people who were also there and looked around.
One boy in particular moved away from the Man and tapped him on the shoulder while the man didn't even turn and just nodded as the people behind him quickly spread out across Gotham.
A sigh left the Man's lips and his eyes roamed over the place he was standing as he thought for a moment.
'If this is an anomaly then I don't care, whatever brought us here I thank you... I thank you for the second chance you gave us...'
His head turned when he heard footsteps and he looked at the boy with that same cold and distant expression, you could tell he was tired because of the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled hair.
The boy's eyes stared straight into the Man's eyes and he was silent for a moment before nodding calmly.
The Man's eyes had a gleam of hope for a moment before returning to cold, calculating eyes as the man thought for a moment before looking at the boy.
"So we're back to square one...the beginning...find her...I don't care how, I just want my child back in my arms...am I clear?..."
The cold words left the man's lips as the boy nodded quickly.
"Yes dad, I understand, I'll let the others know..."
The boy says as he turns and leaves quickly as the Man's eyes follow his figure until he disappears into the darkness of Gotham.
'I know... I believe in you Damien...'
was the only thought that went through the Man's head before he quickly left, disappearing into the darkness of Gotham City.
..
The fingers stop typing as a soft sigh escapes the person's lips, before the person's eyes drift to the large screens and a small child appears next to the person, the little boy looks at the person silently and looks at the screens in silence.
silence watching and reading what is on the screens before he tilts his head in confusion as he reads the name.
Vigilante Project...
This project is new, he was curious but didn't ask knowing that his question would never really be answered, he looked up a little when he felt something on his head and looked directly at the person while the person's fingers slowly passed through the strands of hair him gently.
"Don't worry about it...it's just another project...like all the others..."
The person's voice hangs in the air with traces of mystery, and the little boy looked at the ground before slowly nodding his head.
Whatever this Vigilante project is, it's none of his business, at least not yet...
....

Author's note — hello, thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed...
Take care of your health, your health first!!
Tags —
#yandere x child reader#yandere father#platonic yandere#x child reader#yandere platonic#Yandere batfam#yandere tim drake#yandere platonic batfamily x reader#yandere superfam#yandere jason todd#yandere dick grayson#yandere damian wayne#yandere bruce wayne#yandere superman#yandere jon kent#Yandere lois#platonic relationships
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SOMETHING THERE

movie! Fiyero Tigelaar x gn! reader
Synopsis: When Fiyero convinces you to try and set up Galinda and Elphaba, you agree, not knowing that maybe playing match-maker wasn't the only thing on his mind ... and maybe Elphaba and Galinda are working towards a common goal as well ...
c.w.: friends to lovers (reader/Fiyero) & enemies to lovers (Gelphie); lots of fluff & bantering, some angst; a lot of chaos to get through first; unresolved romantic and emotional tension
w.c. 6.4k (sorry!!) || masterlist
„I give up.“
Sighing in defeat, you slumped down in your favorite arm chair in the Shiz common room and crossed your arms in front of your chest. „I give up … I - I can’t do this anymore, I feel as if can recite all of Elphaba’s tirades about Galinda by heart, it’s insane!“
„Well, hello to you, too, and thank you for asking, my day’s been as good as I could have hoped for, without you keeping me company“, Fiyero - who had been waiting in the common room for you, saving you one of the arm chairs in front of the fireplace - said rather pointedly, though his unusually dry tone was softened by his smile.
You found yourself returning his smile, even though your thoughts were still on the tiresome predicament you’d found yourself in these last few weeks.
„I’m sorry, it’s just-“
„Exhausting?“, Fiyero suggested, interrupting you.
You nodded, sighing. „Exactly.“
Fiyero chuckled defeatedly. „Just earlier, Galinda was going on and on about how Elphaba’s books take up so much space in their room, and how she can’t stand it that Elphaba’s constantly rearranging all these books.“
„Yeah, I’ve heard that exact sentiment from Elphaba about Galinda’s shoes ...“
Fiyero shook his head, laughing. „I mean, she does have rather a lot of them …“
„I don’t really care, I just - I can’t hear about them anymore, Fiyero, I really, really can’t.“
You took it as a sign of how well Fiyero understood you, how well he knew you to understand that you were truly frustrated and not just letting off a bit of steam, that he stopped laughing. And instead of the dry, flippant remark - something along the lines of You don’t care to hear about Galinda’s shoes anymore? Sweet Oz, how could you? - you expected, he just sighed, shaking his head. Then, he scooted his arm chair around, so that it was closer to yours.
Angling his body towards yours, he reached for one of your hands, and squeezed it softly. Even though you were still incredibly tired and frustrated with the whole Galinda and Elphaba situation, you couldn’t help but blush at his action. You’d always known Fiyero to be quite affectionate and charming, and he’d tried to work his easy charm on you countless of times already. But something about this situation felt different - maybe it was sincerity in his touch and the way his brown eyes seemed to have softened when you looked up at him.
„I get it“, he simply said.
You nodded, sighing. „It’s just - it’s not that I don’t care about Elphaba, because I do, really - she’s a really great friend, but I’m just so tired of having to constantly listen to her vent about Galinda ... and it’s not like I haven’t tried to talk to her about it numerous times, trying to get her to see some perspective, but it’s like she just momentarily tunes everything I have to say out whenever I try to bring it up …“
„Well, that sounds familiar“, Fiyero said dryly.
You laughed sadly. „I just - I just wish that there was something, anything we could do that might change their perspective …“
Fiyero didn’t immediately respond to your comment, instead gazing down at your hands - with a jolt, you realized that he was still holding your hand in his, and that realization caused your cheeks to flush again, but somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to take your hand out of his grasp just yet - with a pensive expression. The silence between you stretched on, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable, didn’t pressure you to break it by saying something. Instead, you welcomed it - you’d had a long day full of lectures and rants about Galinda and her various irritating habits, and the ease and familiarity between you and Fiyero really calmed you.
You chanced another glance at Fiyero who still appeared to be deep in thought, his brows drawn together in concentration. Your eyes greedily wandered over his features, taking everything in - his soft, brown eyes, the short, light brown hair, his sharp jawline.
He really was incredibly handsome - way too much for his own good, you thought, recalling with a sudden hot, uncomfortable feeling, the numerous flirtations he’d had since you’d known him.
You had met the Prince of Winkieland almost three years ago, when you’d been visiting your older sister at University. Fiyero had been attending the same university back then, and you’d met when your sister had been showing you around the campus. You’d been so taken aback, so awed by what you saw, you hadn’t really payed attention to where you were going anymore - until you’d collided with Fiyero.
Fiyero, of course, had reacted with his usual flirtatious charm, until your sister had butted in with a few very pointed comments about how you wouldn’t be attending University until next year and wasn’t Fiyero supposed to be on his way to a date with one of his classmates?
You’d rolled your eyes at her - really, you were only two years younger than him, what was the big deal? - and Fiyero had laughed at your reaction, shooting you a smile that somehow had your heart pounding faster and blood rushing to your cheeks. Your sister, who’d sensed that you were succumbing to his charm, had grabbed your arm and dragged you away.
When Fiyero had called your name, your sister only rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. „See you around, then!“, Fiyero called after you, and though your sister was in quite a grumpy mood, you weren't able to fight back the smile that tugged at your lips.
You did see him around, later - during your visit you somehow kept running into him, which greatly annoyed your sister, but secretly pleased you quite a bit. Though you supposed that your sister was right when saying that he could be quite arrogant and air-headed, he was also extremely charming and a surprisingly good listener.
At the end of your visit, you ended up exchanging addresses and just a few days after you’d arrived back home, you’d received your first letter from Fiyero.
Since then, you’d kept in touch via various letters - there were times, when you were sending each other up to three or four letters a week -, and of course you reunited whenever you visited your sister again.
Over time, she grew less hostile towards Fiyero - which, you suspected, had a lot to do with him reducing his flirtatious, suggestive comments to a minimum whenever she was around -, though she continued to warn you not to fall under his spell, seeing how she didn’t want to see her little sister get her heart broken by the rather infamous Winkie prince.
Whenever she brought this particular subject up, you just rolled your eyes, assuring her that there was no danger of this happening. You liked Fiyero, but just as a friend. Of course, he was incredibly good-looking and charming, and sometimes his affectionate ways caused you to flush, becoming flustered, when he suddenly grabbed your hand or tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but he was your best friend and you didn’t see him as anything more than that.
And if there were instances in which you wondered, questioning whether you truly saw him as just a friend - well, you weren’t about to tell your sister that, were you?
„ … well, maybe there is something we could do …“
You didn’t immediately register his words and it took until Fiyero had squeezed your hand again for you to snap out of your thoughts.
„Still with me, darling?“, Fiyero asked you with a concerned expression.
You nodded, feeling your cheeks flush. „Y-yes, sorry, I … you were saying that there was maybe something we could do? About Elphaba and Galinda?“
For a moment, Fiyero seemed as confused as you felt, and when you tried to look at him, he averted his gaze, looking down at your hands - somehow, him holding your hand felt dangerously familiar yet weirdly new and unusual at once - instead.
„Yes, I - it’s just an idea …“, he trailed off, clearing his throat, his eyes flitting over to you - and was it just your imagination or were his cheeks turning rather pink? -, before he continued. „I feel like we should get them to spend more time together-„
You raised your brow in confusion. „I don’t see how that would help the situation, given that they hate each other’s guts-“
„Well, yes - but what if they don’t, not really?“, Fiyero interrupted you, sounding confident once more.
You frowned. „I’m not sure I’m still following you …“
Fiyero laughed quietly, the sound so warm and familiar, you couldn’t help but smile yourself, even though you were still confused.
„Now, this is just a hunch, but I don’t think they actually hate each other … sure, they don’t particularly like each other, but I think that’s more to do with them maybe seeing something in the other they recognize in themselves, something they don’t particularly want to see - or maybe, they’re seeing each other much more clearly than they each would like, and instead of actually dealing with that, they’re just, you know …“
„Antagonizing each other …“, you finished his sentence, nodding. Now that you thought about it, what Fiyero had just said did make sense.
„Exactly, trying to shatter the mirror that way …“, Fiyero said, his eyes finding yours.
„And so your plan is to what - force them together, until they’ve worked through all that?“, you asked, disbelief and doubt creeping into your voice.
Fiyero shrugged. „Well, if you put it like that …“
„Sorry, but I don’t think that’s going to work … Elphaba would probably much rather than die than willingly spend more time with Galinda than is absolutely necessary …“
Fiyero just grinned. Somehow, your doubts didn’t seem to face him at all. „Which is exactly why we’re not going to tell them that they’re going to spend time with each other.“ Seeing your confused expression, he quickly hurried on explaining. „We make it look like a group activity, tell them that there's this ocktail bar in town we want to try out, our something like that ... trust me, we'll figure something out!"
„Brillant“, you said dryly. Fiyero didn’t immediately catch on to your sarcasm. Once you continued, however, his grin froze. „And which one of us is going to organize our double funeral?“
„Funeral, what-“
„Fiyero, once they realize that we tricked them like that, they’re going to want to kill us! At least Elphaba will, and I’m pretty sure Galinda will feel the same way.“
„Well, at least then they’ll have something to bond over“, Fiyero said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You looked over at him. You saw the grin tugging at the corners of his lips, and somehow, you couldn’t keep it in anymore - you started laughing, shaking your head. Soon, you were both laughing hard, completely lost in your own world.
„This is madness“, you said, voice still breathless, once you’d calmed down again. „Even if they do fall for it - which I doubt they will - they’ll be furious once they realize what’s going on.“
„So we’ll just fake a family emergency or something, I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something“, Fiyero replied, shrugging.
You shook your head. „So you really want to go through with that?“
„Well, got any better ideas?“
„No“, you admitted, sighing.
„Hey“, Fiyero said, squeezing your hand, „it’s going to work. And if it doesn’t - well, I’m sure you’ll come up with a fitting, tragic engraving for our double tombstone.“
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. „How reassuring.“
The next two days passed you by in a blur.
Elphaba continued to rant about Galinda - as did Galinda about Elphaba as Fiyero assured you with a tired, pained smile, when you two met up once again in the common room the following evening - and Fiyero and you continued to work out the details of your plan to get Elphaba and Galinda to spend more time together. Well, it was mostly Fiyero who did the planning, seeing as you were still quite convinced that this whole scheme was going to fall apart the minute Elphaba and Galinda realized they’d been tricked.
Your doubts didn’t seem to faze Fiyero in the slightest. Actually, it seemed that the more vocal you became in voicing your concerns, the more determined to see this through to the end - and see it through successfully - Fiyero became.
Not even Elphaba’s irritated expression, when he cornered you and her after dinner the following evening, seemed to intimidate him, which, you had to admit grudgingly, was a feat in and of itself. Because while you liked Elphaba very much - when she wasn’t using her breath on venting about Galinda that was - and valued her friendship, she could be quite intimidating.
If she’d looked at you the way she was currently looking at Fiyero, you were sure that you’d have already crumbled.
As it was, Fiyero merely shrugged, smirking, when she said, her voice dripping with irritation: „And why in Oz’s name would you do that?“ (Fiyero had just announced that he wanted to invite you two for dinner in a fancy restaurant in town the next evening.)
„Because I want to spend some time with my best friend’s other friends - get to know them myself, you know“, he said, an easy smile on his face, as he walked closer to you and slid an arm around your waist, the gesture so casual, so natural, almost as if it was something he did all the time.
It wasn’t. Because while Fiyero had always been extremely affectionate and not even your sister’s irritated glare when he’d casually grab your hand and lace your fingers together or gently touch your arm to get your attention could discern him, he usually didn’t do something like this.
This felt new and dangerous and - you liked it.
You liked being this close to Fiyero, feeling his body right next to yours, heat radiating off him, even though it caused your heart to start beating frantically in your chest, your palms to sweat and your cheeks to flush.
Sweet Oz, what was happening to you?
Because this really wasn’t the moment for you to be this flustered and confused by Fiyero’s shenanigans, not when Elphaba’s irritated, hostile glare was still fixed on him.
„I see“, Elphaba said dryly, her tone clearly indicating that she didn’t understand at all and that she wasn’t very interested in hearing more.
„I mean - I already know you’re great, I’ve heard so much about you, but I thought that we two should get to know each other as well, get to spend some time together, if you know what I mean.
At this, he actually winked at Elphaba.
Elphaba was having none of it though, raising her eyebrows pointedly. „And what if I happen to not share that sentiment?“
„Well, then I’d be very disappointed“, Fiyero said, shaking his head. „I mean, I was quite looking forward to discussing Dr. Clover’s lecture over dinner with you - I happen to admire his work as well -, but no can do, I guess …“
„You want to go to Dr. Clover’s lecture with us?“, Elphaba said, the surprise in her voice mirroring your own. You hadn’t heard of this particular aspect of Fiyero’s plan yet, and his satisfied smirk told you that he knew - or at least thought so - he’d won Elphaba over.
Fiyero shrugged. „I planned to go alone, at first, but then I thought of you two, thinking that maybe we could go to his lecture first and then maybe go for a drink somewhere in town …“
„You actually got more than one ticket for his lecture?“, Elphaba asked and you could hear the begrudging admiration in her voice.
You were impressed yourself - Dr. Clover, an owl professor, was a highly renowned academic, her books on astrophysics held in high regard, and her rare public lectures were almost always sold out immediately.
Fiyero smirked. „I have my ways …“
Elphaba just rolled her eyes, shaking her head. „Fine, I’ll think about it …“
And with that, she walked off - not before giving you a look that told you that you had a lot of explaining to do.
You sighed, turning around to face Fiyero, your breath hitching when you realized how close you two were, seeing as he still had his arm around your waist.
„Well, I think that went rather well, didn’t it?“, he asked you, grinning.
You rolled your eyes. „You can be so full of yourself, you know that, right?“
Fiyero just shrugged, smirking, ignoring your comment. Nothing new there. „The Dr. Clover card was a stroke of genius though, wasn’t it?“
You sighed, nodding. „Yes …“
„You sound so uncertain …“, he said, grinning, his grip on your waist tightening.
You gulped, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. By now, you probably looked like an overly ripe tomato. Not exactly a very pleasant sight, though either Fiyero didn’t notice or his flirtatious charm was entirely immune to people blushing furiously like overripe tomatoes.
„No, I just - how’d you come up with that?“
Fiyero smiled, apparently very pleased that you’d brought up this particular question. „Funny you should ask, like you’re not always raving about her books and newspaper columns and all that …“
„I’m not raving - wait, you actually remember that?“, you asked, your heart pounding fast in your chest when Fiyero’s chocolate brown eyes found yours.
He held your gaze, smiling. And either you were so overcome by his sudden closeness that you were starting to imagine things or it was a trick of the light, because surely Fiyero Tigelaar of all people didn’t blush? But no matter the cause, his cheeks were turning rather pink.
„I … yeah … I mean, you really like her and so I - I thought I’d, you know, check out her writing as well, and turns out she’s holding a lecture in town tomorrow evening …“
Fiyero ran his free hand through his hair, his gaze for a moment seemingly fixed on something far away, before his eyes found yours again, and his easy, charming smile was back in place. „I mean - it fits in perfectly with our plan, doesn’t it?“
You nodded. „Y-yes, it does …“
Sweet Oz, you were having severe trouble stringing together coherent thoughts with him still being so close to you, his hand still settled on your waist, his chocolate brown eyes twinkling with amusement.
„I’d say that so far it’s all working out rather well, isn’t it?“
„Huh?“, was the only thing you were able so say, seeing as you were still entirely too distracted.
Fiyero laughed, the sound warm and bright and achingly familiar. „The plan, love.“
„Right, right, the plan …“ You stuttered, trying to swallow down the sudden, bitter pang of disappointment and forcing a smile onto your face again, not giving Fiyero the chance to say anything in reply. „Though it’s not like we already got them to spend time together, so you really shouldn’t feel so gleeful just yet, you haven’t even asked Galinda about tomorrow evening yet!“
Fiyero just chuckled, waving aside your concern. „Leave the worrying to me, darling, I know exactly how to go about asking her.“
You nodded faintly, your thoughts only partly fixated on his schemes - or at least on the parts of the schemes actually involving Galinda and Elphaba …
„Right …“
Though Fiyero had told you to leave the worrying to him, you found yourself worrying a lot about all the things that could go wrong - which there were a surprising amount you could think of - over the next day.
Elphaba’s increasingly irritated questions didn’t help to soothe your already incredibly frayed nerves in the slightest.
„It’s not that I’m not thrilled that I get a chance to go to Dr. Clover’s lecture, because I am, but why is Tigelaar springing this whole ‚I want to get to know my best friend’s friends'- stuff on me now?“, she grilled you on the way between classes.
You sighed, your grip on the textbooks your were carrying tightening until your knuckles whitened. Somehow, Elphaba’s insistence on calling Fiyero by his last name irked you almost as much as her constant venting about Galinda.
You opened your mouth to say something in Fiyero’s defense - though, truthfully Elphaba did have a point there -, but Elphaba didn’t even give you the chance to say anything, already ploughing on.
„It’s just rather sudden, isn’t it? And I know that you like him - though I can’t say that I can truly comprehend that fact -, but then he also spends an awful amount of time with Galinda and her posse …“
You sighed. There it was - Galinda’s name.
It seemed that lately, Elphaba always found a way to somehow throw the topic of Galinda and the awfulness of her character into every single conversation you two had, and at this point, you were frankly just exhausted. However far-fetched Fiyero’s theory about Elphaba and Galinda not truly hating one another might seem to you, and no matter how many doubts you had about this plan of his actually succeeding, at this point you were just glad that he even had a plan that might somehow dissolve the animosity between them at all.
„ - so I’m not too sure that Tigelaar is really the best judge of character there - hey, you’re daydreaming about Tigelaar again instead of listening to me, aren’t you?“
Elphaba’s words drew you out of your thoughts and immediately, you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. Which was of course completely ridiculous, because there was simply no reason for you to blush. No, none at all.
„No, I’m not daydreaming about-“, you tried to defend yourself - your cheeks were burning and your palms were starting to sweat -, but Elphaba was going on.
„Really? I saw the way you looked at him yesterday - I mean, I see the way you look at him all the time“, she said dryly, laughing, when you frantically shook your head. Somehow, this course the conversation was taking was worse than before, even though just a few moments ago you’d have given anything to get off the topic of Galinda.
„Wha- no, I’m not - I“, you stammered, scoffing entirely unconvincingly, which only led to Elphaba quirking her brow at you, „what- I mean- how am I looking at him?“
Elphaba laughed dryly. „Like he hung the stars in the sky.“
„What, no- I- I … that’s not how I look at Fiyero!“, you stammered, even though your flushed face and the crack in your voice probably didn’t exactly help in trying to get your point across.
Elphaba chuckled. „No, it’s not that bad - yet - but you can’t deny that you clearly like Tigelaar.“
„I - would you please stop calling him Tigelaar?“, you said, stalling.
Elphaba ignored your reply, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking at you pointedly. „So you do like him, then.“
„I-“, you started to say, but you were distracted when, suddenly, Elphaba’s whole expression changed - her dry, knowing smile turned into a bitter scowl and the open, friendly expression in her eyes was replaced by a furious glare. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who had just walked into the hallway. After all, there was only one person that could elicit this kind of reaction from Elphaba.
And sure enough, only seconds later, you could hear Galinda chattering away in her high, affected voice.
"- it's just so rather thrillingly wonderful, isn't it? Fiyero's agreed to show me a few places in town, I'm just absolutely thrillified!"
You froze, your eyes widening. Fiyero had told you to leave the worrying to him, but what if Galinda, of all people, was going to blow your cover now? Oh, you were going to kill Fiyero.
„- but he said he didn’t have time for going down to the Ozdust tonight, which is all rather unfortunate, I was so looking forward going out with him …“
Galinda trailed off and a member of her posse - Elphaba’s resentment towards Galinda was really starting to get to you, too, if you were starting to think of Galinda’s friends as her posse as well, but still, for the life of you you couldn’t recall the girl’s name in that moment. Which probably had a lot to do with a sudden, bitter feeling coursing through your veins, which felt an awful lot like jealousy.
You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.
There was no reason for you to be jealous - you already knew that Fiyero planned on going to the Ozdust with Galinda and some other people next Friday. He’d asked you to come as well, and it wasn’t like you hadn’t known about his friendship with Galinda.
So really, there was no reason for you to suddenly feel so jealous - you and Fiyero were just friends, after all.
He was your best friend.
Friendship.
That’s all there was, all you felt for him.
So why was it suddenly so hard for you to swallow down this bitter, irrational flare of jealousy?
„ - but anyways, I’ll have the Ozdust to look forward to, I’m sure that it’s going to be absolutely scandalacious!“ Galinda continued, giggling and when you looked at Elphaba, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in resentment, you felt that you’d never been more able to relate to her dislike for Galinda - just for a short, fleeting moment, but the thought was there nonetheless, and you bit down hard on your lip, immediately feeling bad.
„Come on“, Elphaba muttered, grabbing your hand, „let’s just get to class.“
You nodded, following her.
Once you’d rounded the next corner, Elphaba let out frustrated sigh, shaking her head. „By Oz … does she have to make everything about herself? It’s like she thinks the world’s going to stop turning if the conversation doesn’t revolve about the thrillifying Galinda Upland …“
You just nodded, still lost in thought.
For once you were glad that Elphaba could seemingly vent about Galinda whenever, wherever. It wasn’t exactly a good foreboding for tonight, sure.
But at least it kept her from asking you more questions about Fiyero and your feelings for him - not that there were any feelings worth talking about, you tried to convince yourself for what seemed like the umpteenth time these last few days -, which was all the better for it.
You were already confused enough as it was.
„How do I look?“, Fiyero asked you, not even turning around, grinning at himself in the mirror instead.
You rolled your eyes, while trying to fight off the blush threatening to color your cheeks. Not that Fiyero was likely to notice, if he continued to stare at himself - though admire was probably a better word for it - in the mirror.
„Good, and you know it“, you said dryly, shaking your head. „Now can you please get a move on? We’re already running the risk of being late-“
„And Elphaba is very punctual, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting - I know“, Fiyero finished your sentence for you, finally turning around, his chocolate brown eyes finding yours.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, trying to cover up your surprise. And the dopey, love-sick smile you apparently couldn’t shake off whenever you were so much as just glancing in Fiyero’s direction - according to Elphaba, at least. Which you’d vehemently tried to deny, when she had pointed it out to you earlier that afternoon, but once Elphaba had made up her mind about something, she wasn’t likely to change her opinion about it, as you’d witnessed first-hand these last few days.
You grimaced, remembering the conversation she’d roped you into after class. You’d been taken by surprise, thinking that after that whole hallway incident with Galinda, she might have forgotten, or at least dropped the subject, which was very much not the case as it become apparent over lunchtime during which Elphaba wouldn’t stop grilling you about Fiyero, your friendship with him and other feelings you were supposedly feeling towards him.
She reminded you a lot of your sister, in that regard. Once your sister had finally come around and begrudgingly accepted your friendship with Fiyero, she’d also started insinuating that there might be more than just friendship between Fiyero and you, completely disregarding your many vehement protests.
You rolled your eyes. Her and Elphaba would probably get along splendidly, you just knew it.
„What’s with the eye roll, darling?“, Fiyero asked you.
Your breath hitched. You’d been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed him finally disregard the mirror and walk over towards you. And now he was suddenly so close to you that you could feel his warm breath on your skin.
Your heart started beating faster, and you had to clamp your hands into fists behind your back to keep from reaching up and brushing that stray strand of brown hair out of his face.
„You seem nervous, darling“, Fiyero said, his voice soft and low.
You nearly jumped. „W-what?“
Fiyero chuckled, but his eyes narrowed with concern. „You’re nervous .. you probably don’t think that the plan is going to work out, do you?“
„I …“
„Well, there’s no need to be worried, because I’ve got it all figured out“, he said, rather self-importantly. When you rolled your eyes at his words, it was almost as if it was a reflex, because while Fiyero’s proximity and the intensity in his brown eyes were still making your heart race in your chest and your throat suddenly felt incredibly dry, rolling your eyes at something he said still came to you like second nature.
„Great.“
You winced - you’d been aiming for dry and sarcastic, instead your voice just sounded strained.
His eyes softened. „Trust me, there’s no need to worry, things will work out … well, and if they don’t, I’ve finally decided on the engraving for our double tobstone.“
You laughed dryly, shaking your head. „Well, that’s reassuring.“
He smirked. „Told you - thought of everything.“
„You’re unbelievable sometimes, you know that, right?“
Fiyero just grinned, before reaching for your hand - suddenly you felt as if there was a whole horde of butterflies flying around wildly in your stomach. „I know I’m incredible, but now we should really get going - I mean, I’m always one for being fashionably late, but as Elphaba values punctuality so much …“
„Right, that …“, you nodded, trying to focus your thoughts on the task at hand and not on the fact that he was still holding your hand, tugging you along until you’d reached the door of his dorm room. „So, we’ll go to the lecture with Elphaba-“
„- then I’ll convince her to go for a drink to the Ozcloud with us, where we’ll meet Galinda, whom I’ve invited for drinks at the Ozcloud just an hour ago. Elphaba will have been in the library the whole afternoon, because she can’t stand spending much more time in her room than is absolutely necessary, so the chances of her having heard of Galinda’s plans for later tonight are very slim, but if by the off-chance that she has heard of it, it won’t be hard for us to find that particular fact out. Should that be the case I just won’t tell her where we’re going for drinks … am I forgetting anything …“
Fiyero trailed off, grinning when he saw your wide eyes. He really had thought this whole thing through - well, at least the set-up of it. As for the actual moment both Elphaba and Galinda realized that they’d been played you still weren’t convinced that they wouldn’t just try to kill each other right then and there, but that was a problem for later, you decided.
„ - yes … Elphaba will likely take some convincing, regardless of whether she knows about Galinda going to the Ozcloud or not … but luckily for us, I can be very convincing …“
„Sure, if by convincing you mean talking so long and fast that people eventually will stop listening …“, you said, laughing, when you saw him scowling.
„Well, it still works, doesn’t it?“, he replied in a mock-offended tone.
„Sure.“
„Darlin’, you don’t need to sound that sarcastic to get your point across.“
You just laughed, even though the way he’d called you darlin - his voice all soft, his brown eyes finding yours even as you were racing through the corridors - still lingered in your mind, making your heart beat faster.
„Well, with you it’s better to be certain isn’t it?“, you played along, even though his grip on your hand tightening suddenly made it very hard for you to focus on anything but the soft look in his eyes.
„Now, what’s that supposed to mean?“
You just shrugged, intending to play it cool, but when you saw the way Fiyero was trying to fight off a smile, you couldn’t help but laugh. For a moment, Fiyero just looked at you, shaking his head, but then he joined in your laughter, the sound soft, warming your heart.
The whole rest of the way through corridors and down several staircases, until you finally arrived at the entrance hall of the library, where you’d promised to pick Elphaba up, neither of you two was able to contain your laughter. With Fiyero, it always was like this. Not simply because his laugh - the real, genuine one, not the overly confident chuckle he so often displayed and you’d come to silently despise a bit - was downright infectious.
No, there was something else, something about the shimmer of amusement in his eyes, the soft smile on his lips that made you want to keep making him laughing.
Just then, you rounded the corner to the library’s entrance hall, nearly running into a statue. Fiyero’s arms were around you in an instant, though, drawing you back just in time.
„Careful there, darlin’“, he murmured. He was so close to you, his chest pressed against your back, his lips just above your ear. You couldn’t suppress a shiver, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to regain your composure.
„I, uh - thanks for catching me“, you whispered, turning around to face Fiyero.
His eyes immediately found yours. Suddenly you were glad that he was still holding you in his arms, because the look in his eyes instantly turned your knees into jelly.
Your breath hitched, and you noticed the way Fiyero’s eyes flickered towards your lips, before meeting yours again.
You found yourself leaning towards him, even closer until you were so close that you felt his warm breath on your skin - was it just your imagination or did his breathing suddenly sound incredibly heavy and strained as well? - he was so close to you, it was making your head spin-
Just then, someone cleared their throat loudly.
Your eyes widened and you jumped away from Fiyero.
Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even have to look up to know Elphaba was standing there.
And sure enough, after you’d scrounged up the courage to look back up, your eyes landed on Elphaba, who was looking at you with an incredibly smug, self-satisfied expression on her face. She only needed to quirk her eyebrows in a ‚See? I told you‘-fashion for you to flush.
You bit down hard on your lip, trying your hardest not to look over at Fiyero, even though you could feel his gaze hard and heavy on you.
You knew, then, that no matter what would happen tonight, no matter what went down between Elphaba and Galinda once the second part of Fiyero’s plan was finally set in motion, Elphaba would never let you hear the end of your supposed feelings for Fiyero.
Though - what if, maybe, just maybe, there was a kernel of truth to her teasing remarks that afternoon?
Maybe there was something there between you and Fiyero, something … more.
Something that you hadn’t seen, hadn’t realized, before.
Something more than just friendship, something more akin to the way you felt drawn to him, almost magnetic, like he was your anchor, always keeping you afloat.
„Ah, Elphaba!“
Fiyero’s voice - that sounded far too bright and cheerful, causing you to wince and Elphaba to cross her arms in front of her chest, raising her eyebrows at him - drew you out of your thoughts. His arms were still on your hips, and when you finally scrounged up the courage to look up at Elphaba again, your cheeks were burning. Elphaba’s knowing smirk confirmed your suspicions that, at this point, you were looking like an overly ripe tomato.
„Punctual as always, shall we get going then?“, Fiyero said, his hands finally leaving your waist.
Though Fiyero tried to catch your gaze, you determinedly averted your eyes, pressing your lips together and walking over towards where Elphaba was standing.
„Let’s go then, we don’t want to be late“, was all you said, as you followed Elphaba out of the library entrance hall, your cheeks burning and your mind spinning the whole way to the small lecture hall.
It didn’t help that Fiyero’s eyes kept finding yours, his gaze burning on your skin. When your shoulders brushed, you nearly jumped.
You did to your best to ignore the pointed look Elphaba gave you then, offering Fiyero a shaky, uncertain smile, before turning away from him again, pressing your lips together.
Sweet Oz, you couldn’t wait for this evening to finally be over.
And yet, you knew that that was a lie - even though the way your heart seemed to beat faster when you sat down next to Fiyero in the lecture hall absolutely terrified you, the soft, reassuring smile on his lips seemed to calm your nerves in an instant.
„You alright there, darling? You seem a bit peaky“, he whispered, leaning closer towards you.
You nodded. „Y-yes, just - nervous, I guess …“
„Hey“, Fiyero whispered, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, „it’s all going to work out just fine, trust me.“
You just nodded, hoping that he was right.
Everything would work out just fine, you tried to tell yourself.
But as the lecture began, and you felt Fiyero trying to catch your gaze again after a particular remark that Dr. Clover made, you couldn’t help but notice Elphaba’s satisfied smile as well.
Everything would work out just fine, you repeated to yourself, your heart starting to beat faster when Fiyero flashed you a soft smile.
Everything would work out just fine.
And, hopefully, not just between Galinda and Elphaba.
it's finally here!! I'm so sorry for the long wait, hopefully some of you will still care to read this even after it's been nearly a month since i first announced this fic! hopefully it won't take me as long to get around to writing and finishing part II!
tagging: @angel-starbeam @matt-patt-engarde @hazbingirliexoxo @tn22220-blog @crisis-unaverted @a-quick-request @tattooed-galaxies @idkman5335
#fiyero x reader#fiyero x you#fiyero x y/n#fiyero tigelaar x you#fiyero tigelaar x reader#fiyero imagine#fiyero wicked#wicked fiyero#fiyero tigelaar#wicked#wicked x reader#wicked 2024#gelphie
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Hello!! I want to request a headcanon for Bonten Mikey, Ran, Sanzu and Takeomi having an arranged marriage with a girl that is a real sweetheart, that always wants to help and really wants the marriage to go well! Thank u so much in advance for answering and reading my request <3
Very different reactions between them but here they are!



Mikey-
He's completely indifferent to you at first, it's hard to tell exactly what he thinks of you or this marriage.
Barely looks at you or talks to you unless it's simple things. You actually end up talking more to his no3, Kakucho. Who does his best to apologise for Mikey's absence and comfort you that Mikey really isn't that bad of a guy, you just need to be patient with him.
As time passes, Mikey grows used to your presence, even finding comfort in it. You're so normal compared to the rest of his life and so eager to help him.
Seeks you out as soon as he comes home from work each day, seeing you is the best part of his day, the one thing he has to look forward to in his life anymore.
Get's affectionate with you at random times, he especially likes to sleep cuddled up with you, he finds it a little easier to sleep when you're next to him.
He wasn't really against this marriage in the beginning, he just didn't care what happened at all. But he finds himself actually happy for the way things have turned out. Sometimes he wonders if it's ok for him to have this happiness but he can't give you up now, he's addicted to the way you make him feel, to the love he feels for you.
Ran-
Finds himself amused at the idea of having a wife, like he could settle down and live a quiet life, the whole thing makes him laugh. He's even more amused when he meets you, such a sweetheart like you with someone like him? He's going to ruin you.
Teases you a lot and tends to ask a lot of questions (especially nsfw ones), he especially enjoys seeing your reactions to things a lot. Views you as nothing more then a fun new thing to play with at first.
Makes things clear with you from the start, this marriage is arranged so he feels no love for you. He's still going to go out to clubs and do everything he used to do, you're welcome to do the same if you want, as long as you keep it discreet. But there's something about the way you just nod when tells you that makes him uneasy.
There wasn't much point in him telling you all that anyway, the second he walks back into a club all he can do is compare all the girls to you. He doesn't want any of them, instead he finds that you're the one on his mind, the one he's fantasising about. Rindou looks at him strangely when Ran tells him he's just going to head home instead, that he isn't in the mood for this tonight.
Of course you notice when Ran comes straight home after work every evening and stays there. Anytime you ask he just brushes it aside, saying that he's tired or just wasn't in the mood. The truth is he just wants to hang out with you. He knows he's fallen in love, maybe having a wife was for him after all.
Occasionally he takes you out with him to the various clubs bonten owns, always with an arm around you and a protective glare at any guy who looks your way. After all, he's still Ran and he still loves these places, but now he has someone he can enjoy them with even more.
Sanzu-
Hates you before he even meets you, just the thought of you makes him scowl. This isn't part of his job, his job is to be Mikey's right hand not to be some random woman's husband. Why couldn't anyone else in bonten have you instead, why him?
He's just as furious the first time he meets you, as well as when the two of you move in together too. He won't look properly at you and tells you to stay away from him, along with a bunch of other rules for living in his house. You're just someone living here to him, no one but Mikey matters anyway.
He's surprised by how diligent you are with following his rules. And not only that but you seem to be putting a lot of effort into making this comfortable for him, even following his cleaning routine perfectly despite him not asking or expecting you to. It's enough to make him soften a bit towards you, even if it's only a little.
Joins you for dinner one evening and finds himself actually liking your presence. He feels relaxed around you, which is unusual for him. That one dinner, quickly turns into an evening routine for the two of you.
Little by little he opens up to you and spends more time with you, completely lifting the rules he first set in place. He isn't entirely sure if this is love or even how he'd define that in the first place but he thinks he might feel it for you.
It's a dark thought but he hopes you never go against bonten, he doesn't want to have to do anything to you. He just wants to stay like this, living with you forever.
Takeomi-
Was pretty unsure when he first heard about this arranged marriage idea. Why would he want a wife? Just look at what happened to his parents, he never wants to be in same position his father was left in.
Is the most reasonable towards you though, engages with you and let's you do what you like. Even if he doesn't love you, he's not going to make your life miserable.
He's hiding things from you though, he has this persona he puts on for you. Tries to impress you with extravagant things and expensive jewellery and clothes. Acts like he's a very big deal too, it's like he's trying to win your love/ admiration with material things.
Eventually you reassure him that be can be himself around you, he can be more vulnerable and more honest. This is the first time anyone has ever told Takeomi that, the first time he didn't have to be the responsible one or the one in charge, or the one trying to keep up with the others. It marks a change in your relationship.
It's a slow process, a lot for him to unlearn but Takeomi does become more honest with you, letting himself be vulnerable with you. And with that he let's himself fall in love with you too, accepting you as his and him as yours. Sometimes he wonders what he did to deserve a wife like you.
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo rev#manjiro sano#ran haitani#haruchiyo sanzu#takeomi akashi#tokyo revengers spoilers
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Happy thanksgiving, I hope it is going well🦃
Thank you for responding to my other ask about the flinching around the batfamily. But now another question has popped up in my head, what if Daughter reader just randomly picks one of the "siblings" to cling onto for dear life. But it backfires for the sibling because uh oh! Daughter Reader met their friend and suddenly boom she has a crush on them. Example Maybe: Tim? (I love Tim he's my favorite lol.) Daughter Reader sees his "subtleness" in obsession or whatever he likes to call it😒 Reader is chilling with Tim, then KON walks in and she never whipped her head around so fast. (Obviously Tim notices.) Now not only is Tim (or any other sibling of the batfamily you'd like to use) is dealing with a clingy reader, now they're dealing with said reader constantly asking them about their friend and occasionally stealing their phone to stare at pictures of said friend. (She's a little creepy she's been cooped up in a manor for like a decade by now give her a break she's trying her best.) OR! When the batsibling's friend comes back over reader gives them a drawing she made of them Thank you reading have a lovely Day/Night! - 🐈⬛Anon
Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist
Ooooo this is giving me ideas
I did make Daughter!Darling younger than Damian so Kon might be a bit too old for her (or young… he was created in a lab, but that’s a whole other can of worms)
But this gave me an ideas for two scenarios that stem from this idea…
Taking the crush aspect out of this cause of age differences with the idea with Kon, like Tim brings him around to the house for the first time while Daughter!Darling is home from school or one of the many outings that Dick takes her on of his choosing. Connor is definitely friendly to her, Tim has definitely mentioned his little sister to him, how amazing she is, how adorable, how perfect-
She looks terrified when Damian came around looking for her, mentioning something about notes in class…
Then the second time he comes around to visit, he catches a glimpse of Bruce locking her bedroom door with her inside… who does that?
Then when he came around to see Tim and he walked into the living room and he saw his friends taking photos of her just sitting and doing schoolwork and she clearly looks uncomfortable.
He finds some excuse to have Tim leave the room so he can ask her…
“Are you okay?”
“N-no…”
He felt horrible for her, but he did not have anymore time to ask questions before Tim returned. Kon is not capable of taking care of a child but he knows people who definitely can.
It’s when she is at school and out on the swings alone, Damian scared away her friends again today and…
“Hello, mind if I sit by you?”
There is a man with glasses and a visitor’s pass that comes to speak with her and she lets him, he introduces himself as Clark Kent and he lets her connect the dots. He lets her know that she can speak freely and he is here to help her and just everything spills out with tears. Clark would be horrified by what he hears, this little girl is in danger and no one had cared enough to help her and-
“Hang on tight.”
There is just a quick moment before he picks her up and they are in the air with him taking her somewhere he’ll know she’ll be safe for now anyway, with his family.
He’ll explain things to Lois and Jon, but he is sure they will understand… they have to…
The other way I could see this scenario going is…
With the idea of when she starts having a boyfriend who is a member of the Court of Owls (I mentioned him in these posts, link, link, link, link)
But Damian would have probably have made friends to help with his cover, and of course there is the most perfect boy in school, talented, smart, kind, head of the student council, on many sports teams. Then when Damian began attending that school after Talia left him with Bruce, he was the one who was we so adamant about making him feel welcome, but of course it was a fake friendship on both sides. The boy had no real interest in being Damian’s friend, but he also needs to keep up his appearance.
He could honestly care less about Damian until when they come into his first period class and introduce a new student, Damian’s little sister and when the teacher asks for volunteers to show her around the classroom, his hand shoots up. Damian is fine enough with his friend to help his sister, he won’t get close-
That is until the end of the day when he sees her walking down the steps of the school with that boy, laughing and chatting with each other. It is fine, he is a family with a good reputation-
Then when he is supposed to come over for a school project for Damian’s and his science class, he is talking to his sister after they are done working and are waiting for his driver.
Then there is the time when they just went on summer break and she comes into Damian’s room and asks for the address of the boy’s summer home because they promised to write to each other and she had his address on her phone but she got it taken away since she would only need it to call the family and she-
Damian wants to pull out his hair more and more every time she mentions this boy. This goes on for years and into high school and it all comes to a boiling point where Damian catches them making out in the stairwell.
Oh my god he wants to kill them, wants to rip out his heart, wants to bang his head into the concrete over and over again. He restrains himself and only threatens him with some bruising and harsh words.
But after that nothing is the same.
His sister distances herself from Damian, he cuts off his friend, but then true colors begin to show to Damian, only Damian.
Like when he opens his locker and finds it defaced, threats, insults, and strangely enough a feather, like a signature, but to whom does it belong to?
The boy puts on his perfect facade and acts like he actually cares about Damian and as it he had nothing to do with it, but his laughter when he is talking to his group of friends just seems too loud, the kisses he shares with his sister are almost smug, and the perfect smile and the praise he receives from his teachers and classmates leaves a sour taste in Damian’s mouth.
He wished he had asked his father to have his sister homeschool.
#yandere dc x reader#yandere dc#yandere justice league x reader#yandere justice league#yandere bruce wayne#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere batman#yandere batman x reader#yandere batfam#platonic yandere batfam#platonic yandere#yandere batfamily#platonic yandere batfamily#platonic yandere dc#platonic yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake
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male yandere! farmer x fem! spoiled city girl reader [Introduction]

lowkey hate this but I still love the concept.
This is based on an ask I got but since it’ll. e jumbled if I put everything in one post I’ll be posting it in parts so as much as it pains me to say this..no yandere shenanigans in this post<:33

You were spending the summer at a farm and you were absolutely dreading it.
You have been living, in your words, the high life but in your fathers words irresponsibly. Going out every night, partying, spending money on stupid things, and it seemed like you were only interested in going to college because of the parties your classmates host. Frankly, your father has had enough of it.
In the middle of his lecture, he had the bright idea to call up an old friend who owns a farm and ask him for a favor, and from the expression on his face you already knew it was something dreadful.
Turns out it was to have you work for him for the summer. To toughen you up a bit. Teach you some responsibility just so you could be a little more mature when you come back (and maybe not turn him penniless like you're about to with the way you're living).
His friend, which you learned his name was Blaze, didn't mind. In fact, he was happy to have an extra set of hands to help around.
Naturally, you threw a fit. You tried every trick in the book you even gave your best puppy eyes and promised not to spend too much money anymore, you would even stop going to so many parties!
Nonetheless..you ended up packing your bags when the day came.

You slammed the passenger door shut and made your way to the cars trunk to get your bags. You could hear both men exchange warm welcomes and rave over how long it's been.
You roll your eyes. A little more and they'll be going down memory lane over coffee.
Your father turns to you when you make it to his side, his face still pleasantly beaming. It was honestly freaking you out "Ah! honey, say hello to my friend, Blaze. He'll take good care of you here." You offer him a tight-lipped smile and shake his hand. You immediately remove yourself from the conversation as your eyes take in the scenery. A large field you can't even tell where it ends. Within it, a house is close to where you're all standing, not small, not too big while the barn is a little further away. You also see a dark blue truck parked close by. You don't see any of the animals yet. He must have animals right? You wince as you think of dealing with their waste.
And the heat. The heat. You have a small tube top and shorts on which would be lovely back in your city but here it does absolutely nothing to help with the intense heat.
Too distracted by your torment, you don't notice Blaze's eyes glancing in your direction every few seconds as he talks to your father taking in every detail of you. Smooth skin, soft hair, delicate hands that haven't worked a day in their life. He honestly doesn't think you'll last a day.
"Well! I'll be off then." You snap out of your daze "Oh. Okay then." You reply curtly. You're being petty and you don't care "Come now don't have that look on your face, lighten up will you? Don't give Blaze too much trouble" with that he makes his way to the car and you almost tear up watching him drive off.
Blaze clears his throat "Here let me help you with your stuff." He leads the way to his house and already you can tell how awkward this is going to be "I take it you're not familiar with working in a farm?" you only offer a small shake of your head "That shouldn't be a problem, you know I didn't wake up one day and decided to milk a cow. I had to learn and work every day...Not just that but everything else, of course." He clears his throat and you giggle. His shoulders relax a bit upon the sounds. You too enter his house and he sets your luggage down "Right, let me give you a tour, yeah?"
He leads you throughout the entire house, which doesn't take long considering its size, he leaves your room for last "This is where you'll be sleeping, this room doesn't have a lock yet but if you want I can install one for ya." you only nod and head inside and shut the door behind you.
What the fuck?
Blaze blinks then huffs knocking on the door "Hey uh- If you're tired from the trip we can start tomorrow at dawn" He looks down as he patiently waits for your response "Yeah that would be great!" He sighs. He doubts you had plans to start today anyway.
Blaze finally walks away from your door rubbing his neck 'Lets hope this runs by smoothly..'

Turns out, he had..a few things to worry about.
The first day was a pain, for both of you, but he'd argue it was more of a pain for him.
"You do it!"
"I'm supposed to be teaching you." he replies gruffly
"What if she bites my hand off?"
"She's a horse you're not feeding a lion- look just put the carrot closer to her mouth." he guides your hand closer and his heart skips a beat. So soft. Your hands were so soft-
He clears his throat "There, it'll just start eating it, it's fine if a little dribble gets on your hand." You grimace and he clicks his tongue "Oi, stop being a brat, a little drool is the least you should be worried about while working here." You whine "Can I just be in charge of feeding Stella here instead?" He crosses his arms "No can do sweetheart." You only pout and continue feeding the horse not noticing how the corners of Blaze's mouth lift slightly.
You kept running off from your chores to play with Clyde (his dog) and of course, he was chasing you around like a babysitter trying to get you to finish your work.
It was truly a nightmare when you had to clean after the animals. You were gagging, whining, he was honestly convinced you were going to start bawling at that point it was quite amusing.
After that, it seemed you were a bit desensitized from that experience and you were managing the rest of the chores with few complaints but for your sake, he won't mention how he heard you cussing out your father while you were cleaning the barn.
When you were finally done with everything the sun was beginning to set. You wanted more than anything to fall face-first into your bed but you stunk and you desperately needed a shower.
When you're done you open the door only to bump into Blaze "Oh, sorry.' You squeeze past him and continue your way to your room not noticing the shade of red Blaze's face turned in your wake.
His pants tighten and the scent of your shampoo and body wash wafting from the bathroom doesn't help.
Yeah..a few things he has to worry about
#yandere farmer#yandere farmer x reader#yandere farmer x spoiled reader#male yandere#fem reader#introduction fic#yandere oc introduction#yandere oc#yandere blog#yandere x reader#yandere Blaze#Blaze oc#farmer oc#obsessive yandere#yandere fanfiction
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Hello! I was wondering if i could request a Zoro or a Law x gn! or m!reader with angst? They are in a fight and reader kinda ignores them and hides from them and Zoro or Law realize how in love they are with the reader? Can end however you want!
Sorry I've been so slow on requests, writer's block hit me pretty hard this week! I chose Zoro with a gn!reader for this one, it just seemed to fit him pretty well (man is not good with his emotions). I hope you enjoy it!
A Bridge Too Far
Pairing: Zoro x Reader
SFW
Summary: Zoro is terrible at handling his frustrations, and you're tired of being his punching bag. He doesn't realize what he's lost until it's gone. Warnings: Angst, Zoro being a bad boyfriend, not a happy but possibly a hopeful ending? Word Count: 2.3k
Like most of your arguments with Zoro, he started it.
He always starts it, even when he doesn’t want to. When his frustrations start to bubble, he can’t help but lash out at whoever’s closest, and that’s normally you. You’re always there, waiting for him, and you never hold it against him once he calms down. Frankly, they’re less arguments and more one-sided furious rants, as you never rise to the provocation. So he doesn’t think much of it when he snaps at you again after a particularly tough battle, one that left a buzzing under his skin and a strain in his muscles that he couldn’t shake. You wouldn’t mind. You never did.
A few minutes after you follow him to the training room, sitting quietly in the corner while he readies his swords, he finally snaps. “Will you just leave me alone for once? How am I supposed to relax with you trailing after me like this?”
You don’t just sit there and take it like you always do. You don’t just get up and leave, ready to come back when he’s calmer. You stare at him a moment, not radiating fury or indignation, simply…disappointment. Weariness. “Again?”
“What?” He snaps.
“We’re doing this again? Really?” You seem completely composed and calm. It infuriates him more than snapping ever could.
“What do you mean, doing this again? You following me around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, I guess we are.” He hits the target in front of him harder, sending splintering wood everywhere. The sound of it pierces his brain, rattling around, making him feel even worse.
You sigh, sounding horribly burdened and beaten down. “You know what? Sure. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone, Zoro, if that’s what you want. But this is the last time. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”
He grits his teeth. “Won’t put up with this? Shouldn’t that be my line?”
Your eye twitches, finally a show of emotion, a show that he’s affecting you. “I’m not your punching bag, Zoro. I’m not here for you to use to work off your adrenaline instead of learning to deal with your emotions like an adult. I’m supposed to be someone you care about.” You finally stand, gathering your things and turning to leave. You don’t look back at him as you call, “You’re going to regret this, but I won’t.”
The door slamming echoes through the room, sounding horribly…final.
He ignores it.
It takes a few hours for him to finally wind down, for the buzzing to quiet and leave nothing but a blissful silence. He doesn’t bother cleaning up the wood all over the floor, or taking a shower to rid himself off all of the sweat. He has only one thought: his bed, warm and soft and welcoming. If he’s lucky, you’ll be in it, waiting for him to hold you close and kiss your face, the closest thing he’s ever given to an apology. He eagerly makes his way to the Sunny’s sleeping quarters, opening the door slowly to the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy and Franky, accompanied by Sanji, Chopper, and Usopp’s quiet breathing. Brook is still on deck, on watch for the night, so it makes sense his bunk is empty, but Zoro notices your bed is also suspiciously clear. Even your pillow and blanket are gone, the sheets not even wrinkled, as though no one had ever slept there at all.
A small part of him tells him he should check on you, make sure you’re alright. But a much larger, louder part is crying out for rest, and he cannot help but give in, falling face first onto his mattress without even changing clothes. He’s asleep within seconds.
He’s alone when he wakes up. He doesn’t typically sleep very long, instead napping in short bursts throughout the day, but he can see the light pouring in under the door and he realizes he must have slept at least until noon. He’s shivering, still on top of his blanket. Usually when he falls asleep like this, you throw one of the extras in your locker over him, tucking him in like a child. You must not have come back in at all last night.
He ignores the uncomfortable feeling nipping at him, something he will not name. You’re fine. You’re an adult, and one night away from your bed doesn’t mean anything.
But then you aren’t at lunch.
Sanji is giving him dirty looks, and Nami is giving him the most foul side-eye he’s ever had the displeasure of receiving. The rest of the crew are trying to act normal, but Franky is suspiciously absent and Usopp is so nervous he keeps dropping everything he tries to pick up, ending in him spilling water all over himself and taking the excuse to “take a second to go change” and never come back.
He finally breaks after Sanji brings Nami another drink, takes an obvious glance at him, and they start to whisper to each other. He makes out the words idiot, asshole, and loser (the first two from Nami and the latter from Sanji), before he slams his fork down. “What? What is it?”
Nami turns to him, filled with the sort of righteous fury she only saved for those who dare hurt her friends. “God, Zoro, you don’t even know? What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re all acting weird as hell!”
Sanji jumps in. “Because you’re acting like a jerk and have the gall to pretend everything is normal, asshole! What the hell did you say to them yesterday?”
What he said to…oh. That feeling comes back again, and he furiously clamps down on it, replacing it with a significantly more comfortable and familiar indignance. “That’s none of your business, cook.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I think I deserve to know why I had to find them sleeping in the goddamn kitchen this morning, actually.”
In the kitchen? Of course. It’s the one place you knew he would never find you. He never went there other than mealtimes, avoiding the possibility of another stupid fight with Sanji when he wasn’t up for it. “How the hell should I know?”
“Are you still pretending you don’t know it’s your fault? They were bawling their eyes out after leaving the training room.” Nami’s even angrier than Sanji is, and Zoro genuinely thinks she might hit him. The smaller, more tender part of himself, the one he’s ignoring, wouldn’t even blame her.
But that part isn’t in charge today. “My relationship isn’t your goddamn business.”
“Relationship? You seriously think you still have one of those?”
His blood runs cold, but he forces the feeling away, standing up from the table and stalking off. “I don’t have to take this.”
Nami calls after him, “I hope they dump you!”
Sanji cries out soon after. “I hope you fall into the sea, asshole!”
Zoro could go look for you. Should, even. But he instead makes the trek to the crow’s nest, cherishing the quiet, the solitude, the safety of it.
But as he sits in what is usually his sanctuary, he begins to feel that itch beneath his skin. Quiet turns to unbearable silence, solitude turns to loneliness, safety turns to suffocation. He tries to close his eyes, to center himself, take control as he loves to do, but the moment he does he can see nothing but your face. He can almost feel your hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles while your voice gently shushes him. You were so good at that, calming him down right when he needed you. Giving him a patience he simply didn’t deserve.
A patience he had been taking for granted.
What would he do, if another man had made you cry? If someone else had raised their voice at you as he had, time and again?
Part of him tried to justify it. But I don’t mean it, some petulant part of himself cried. They know I don’t mean it.
But do you? And would it matter, anyway? He’s still shouting. You’re still taking it. How long can you perform the same song and dance before it stops being a performance?
He needs to apologize.
He just needs to find you first. You aren’t in the kitchen, though Sanji is, and he doesn’t even speak with him this time, just giving him a mean glare that would send a lesser man running. Zoro hates to admit he deserves it. You aren’t in your bed, and your things are still missing. Not in Chopper’s office. Not in the library. Not in the bathroom, though Robin is, and he has to take a moment to furiously apologize for not knocking while she laughs at him.
He can only think of a few more places to check when he remembers who was missing this morning.
Franky’s workshop is quieter than he’s ever heard it, only filled with the quiet clanking of a small hammer against an even smaller piece of metal. Franky is using his second set of hands to put together some clockwork trinket, a significantly more delicate project that he usually takes on. Zoro is confused only for a moment, then he sees you, eyes intensely watching, and he realizes what’s going on. Franky has taken you in today, chosen something simple and small to distract you, to allow you to participate in some way. He’s always been great at small comforts like this, allowing someone the peace of his presence without worrying about being a burden.
Zoro could learn a lot from him.
Franky clearly knows he’s there, shoulders tensing slightly, but he doesn’t speak, waiting for one of you to take the first step. You don’t seem to notice either, too enraptured by the small metal bird in Franky’s hands, a look of wonder on your face that makes Zoro’s heart skip despite himself.
“Hi.” He cringes the moment he speaks, the peace shattering instantly. Franky doesn’t turn to acknowledge him, but he can practically feel the wince that must be on his face from the lame opener. Your head shoots up like a frightened rabbit, every part of you tense and ready to run. You pull in on yourself, making yourself smaller, like if you’re lucky he might miss you entirely, move on to the next prey. He puts up his hands, the first and only act of surrender he has ever performed, before continuing. “Can we talk? In private?”
You look to Franky, and Zoro doesn’t know what the look you two exchange means, but it makes you get up and approach. You give him a wide berth, not even coming within a foot of him, but you nod at him briefly to indicate he should follow. However small of a gesture it is, you’ve finally acknowledged him. That’s something.
You lead him back down to the training room, still covered in splintered wood and reeking of sweat. He can’t help but notice you didn’t pick a neutral location. You lead him somewhere he feels safe.
You turn to him. “Talk.”
He hesitates a moment, trying not to trip over himself and somehow make this work, but he can see that he’s finally reached the end of your apparently not-quite-infinite patience. “I’m…sorry.” He says the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though they burn his mouth as they leave. He doesn’t like to apologize in words, but in action. In gentle hands, in small acts he could deny later. He doesn’t know why it embarrasses him, to admit he was wrong. He is pretty often. But something about it makes him feel so small, so weak. But he can be small and weak for you, right now. No matter how much it hurts.
Your eyes widen, and you take the smallest step backwards. Shocked by him admitting for once he’s at fault. “You’re…sorry?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
You narrow your eyes at him, searching for some kind of trick, some hidden knife ready to plunge into your back. “For what?”
“For…for what? You know for what.” He winces at how defensive he sounds, at how you start to pull in on yourself again. “Sorry. Um. For yelling at you. For taking my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. For how I always do that. I…I don’t know why I snap at you. And it’s wrong.”
“Yes, it is.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It isn’t fair of you to keep doing this. I tried letting it slide, because I know you just don’t know how to handle your feelings, that you aren’t coming from a place of malice. But that doesn’t make it okay. And you never stopped.” You turn your back to him, approaching a nearby window, staring out at the sea.
“I’m going to stop now. I swear it.”
“I won’t be with someone who speaks to me like that. I deserve better. You know I deserve better.” You’re trying to play tough, but he can hear the shake in your voice, and he realizes that just like yesterday you’ve only turned around so he can’t see the tears on your lashes.
He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “You do. I swear I’ll treat you like you deserve. If I ever talk to you like that again, I’ll fall on my own sword.”
“...Swords.”
“Huh?”
“Swords. All three.”
He chuckles despite himself. “Alright. I’ll fall on all three at the same time.”
“Good. …You deserve it.”
“I know.” A silence hangs in the air. “I love you.”
You don’t answer.
You don’t hug him back, and you’re still sniffling, but you let him hold you. That has to be enough for now.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece (if you saw I forgot the taglist when I first posted this no you didn't)
#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#one piece x reader#zoro x you#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#one piece#zoro roronoa x reader
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hii i saw your request were open for zoro so i was wondering if you could write something with the hidden injury trope and he takes care of her when she collapse at one point tysm !! (ignore if you dont feel inspired or comfortable ofc)
( So quickly, an A/n: I decided to continue the Stay by Me storyline with this one, and the events of the show will be stretched a little bit. Spoilers!)


A lot has happened since you've been found out. You met the rest of the 'crew'. Luffy, the ever-go-lucky captain, immediately pulled you into a hug and welcomed you to his crew. Nami, the only other girl, had a slightly distrustful expression; muttering a small hello, she crossed her arms and continued to watch you as Usopp introduced himself and already began to tell his many stories.
Zoro hadn't left your side, wherever you were, he was there, watching. You would have thought it would freak you out, but if anything, you felt safe, like you didn't have to look over your shoulder anymore. Life was good. Until it wasn't.
You were attacked by a ship of Marines who was led by Luffy's grandfather, almost got lost in the fog you sought cover from, and were able to get out by your captain's nose and his love of food that you all found a restaurant ship where you would meet your future crew mate and Zoro's least favorite person. The mighty Dracule Mihawk was sent there by Luffy's grandfather, and Zoro challenged him to the death. He agreed.
Nami tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen, even to you. You tried, but when his callous hand caressed your cheek, his deep brown eyes staring into yours, and the soft tone in which he spoke, saying that he was gonna win, that he'd never leave you unprotected, you believed him.
What a fool.
Everything happens so fast. Zoro was injured in a duel with Mihawk; on the edge of death, Nami left with a pirate crew of fishmen and the map of the grand line. Zoro woke up, and you all set sail to find Nami, along with Sanji. You learned about her past and helped her defeat the dreaded Arlong. During the fight with Arlong, you become injured, and nobody knew, You had more important matters than the burning pain of shards of glass stuck in your side.
It wasn't till after the fight you passed out from the pain.
The gentle rocking of the ship was the first thing you felt as you gained consciousness. The feeling of someone's hand holding yours tightened as your eyes slowly opened. "Zoro..?" You managed to coak out, turning to look at the man in question. "Why didn't you say anything..?" Zoro said after a minute of not saying anything, his brown eyes snapping up to look at your face.
You gulped, "I didn't think it was important." Your eyes plead for him not to be mean. "Not important? Not fucking important!?" Zoro growled, standing up from the chair he sat on and letting go of your hand. "It's important to me! You're important to me.." He lowered his voice at the last part, no longer sounding angry but simply hurt. "Zoro," you grunted as he helped you sit up in bed, "I'm sorry, I should have said something. I was just worried about everyone else. I'll tell you next time. I promise." You held up your pinky and smiled at the tired chuckle that left the green-headed swordsman. Zoro locked his pinky around yours.
Using your pinky, he flong you into his body, your soft, plump stomach hitting against his abs, and his plush lips smashed against yours, stealing your breath away.
When you both parted, he whispered against your lips, "You're my woman. I'm your man. From now on." You couldn't be happier.
@xxmaddhatter39xx
#zoro roronoa#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#opla zoro x chubby reader#opla x reader#opla zoro#opla zoro x reader#opla yandere zoro x reader#opla roronoa zoro#opla x y/n#anime x chubby reader#x plus size reader
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missing piece
logan (james) howlett x reader

the record player was playing One piece at a time, your favorite song, occasionally letting out a soft sound of scratching against the vinyl. the bar was crowded and everybody seemed to have a good time. the 70's may become your favorite decade. you've been alive for over a hundred years now but you liked everything about this era; the music, the clothes and the recklessness of it.
you were currently seated at the bar, drinking whatever the bartender had offered you. the guy had been hitting on you all evening, and you figured that free drinks couldn't hurt since your healing factor would keep you from getting drugged. you liked the attention anyway, your ex lover had disappeared on a random tuesday and never came back home. it had been four years since you had last seen him, you weren't mad at him anymore, but more at yourself for thinking a man could keep his promises. so some compliments were always welcomed.
you were watching people dance, the festive atmoshpere filling a void in your chest. whenever you felt alone you would go to a bar, or a pub just to feel something. in those places, time seemed to stop, you could be invisible. nobody cared about you or asked anything from you. sometimes you would dance with a random girl or guy and end up in their motel room just to sneak out the second they fell alseep. you were conscious that this lifestyle wasn't for everybody. in fact, you didn't enjoy it in the slightest. but you didn't have a choice. you didn't have any family anymore, and the only person that counted took off 4 years ago. you didn't work and your only hobby was drinking. you weren't living, but barely surviving. but with time you get used to it, right?
right as when you were about to get up to dance, someone sat next to you. too close for your liking. you turned your head and were met with a drunk looking guy, staring at you like you were some piece of meat. you gave him a look that meant "get the fuck out of here and leave me alone" but he didn't seem to want to comply.
"hello pretty girl, need some company?" he said, or at least that's what you understood. his breath hit your nose and you almost threw up; your heightened senses could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.
"go fuck yourself" you said, walking toward the back door. the guy following you.
"I think I'll need some help with that, my girl" he said, trying to catch up with you. you ignored him, or at least he thought so, and went through the back door, making sure he was still behind you. once you found yourself in a small alley, you grabbed him by the collar and pushed him brutally against the wall.
"I am not your girl" you threatened. the dickhead tried to answer but with your hands on his throat the task seemed more difficult than usual. you hated this petname, it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. you let go of him, letting him fall to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. that wasn't necessary but he deserved it.
you went back inside, planning on gathering your things and then finding a place to sleep. you folded your jacket on your arm and put your pack of cigarettes in your pocket. but as you turned toward the door, your heart stopped. a familiar face looking at you from the crowd. at first you thought you were hallucinating, the fucker was dead. you hoped he would be. it would hurt less. but when he started coming closer you scoffed.
you couldn't do it without a drink, so you sat back and asked for straight tequila. you missed this vanishing feeling the night procured you.
logan sat next to you and asked for a drink. you refused to look at him. you wanted to punch him in the face, alright maybe you were still a little mad at him. seeing him here, and so close to you made you mad. you wanted to kill and kiss him.
"I missed you" he said, looking afar. out of all the things he could have said you weren't expecting this. you scoffed and tightened your grip on your drink.
"shut your damn mouth" you gritted through your teeth, still holding onto your drink for dear life. you had imagined what it would be like to see him again and promised to yourself that you would tell him you moved on and leave him speechless. you never thought you still loved him so deeply. you hated how he made you feel, you hated feeling weak. but you loved everything else about him, and if feeling vulnerable was the price to pay to be with him then you wouldn't think twice about it.
"I didn't have a choice" he added, this made your blood boil. you knew he was telling the truth and you had already forgave him, you just needed to hear him say it. you didn't say anything, didn't ask about the reason of his departure. you kept your mouth shut, hoping he would take the hint and leave. no you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to think that you wanted him to leave.
"I’m sorry” he muttered. this was your last straw, your glass broke between you fingers, shards of glass flying all over the counter and cutting into your hand. you jumped, startled at your own doing. logan reached for your hand immediately but you moved it away before he could even brush it.
"fuck you" was the last thing you said before running to the bathroom. your healing factor was already pushing the glass out of your flesh but it still hurt as hell.
“let me help you” you hadn’t even hear him coming in. you smiled, amused at the situation. you terribly wanted to give him your hand but your pride told you otherwise.
“why are you here?” you whispered, almost scared that if you spoke louder he would disappear.
“I told you, I miss you”.
“of course you do, that's why you came back so quickly” you said, washing the blood off your hand. “I just know you were bored to death without me" you joked, trying to ease the tension.
logan approached and slowly put his hands on your waist, your back facing him. he then delicately planted his chin on your shoulder. “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I did this to protect you and that’s fair but I need you by my side, I need my girl” you swore you heard a sob in his voice. you looked up, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could see logan’s head next to yours he was looking at you. this was the first time you’ve look into his eyes since he left. and they felt like home.
you turned around slowly, facing him. you hands claimed back their place on either side of his face. wiping his tears. seeing logan cry was rare, extremely rare. you felt your heart broke at the sight. he put his hands on yours and closed his eyes, enjoying how your touch felt like after so many years. nothing changed, not his love for you nor what he felt around you.
“let me take you home” he begged
“where?”
“doesn’t matter, home is whenever I’m with you”
you knew that your james was telling the truth, and you knew that you still loved each other.
"I need time, james" you answered, even if your mind was already made you had some self respect. you were about to say something else but logan beat you to it:
“I love you” he breathed.
you kissed him passionately, making up for all the lost kisses.
"I love you most"
you were still upset about what he did, but at the end of the day, you knew he did it for a good reason and that it hurt him maybe even more than it did you, and you certainly couldn’t imagine life without him.
you both cried into the kiss, silently promising to always be on each other's side.
"come on, let's get out of here"
#logan howlett x reader#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman#logan howlett fluff#wolverine x reader#xmen fanfiction
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Hello again! •^ ^• I was wondering if you could do Hannibals reacting to reader that's sensitive? Like if you yell at them they'll cry and they used to get bullied because there a cry baby. But because there so sensitive there clingy! If not I get it have a good day/night :3
Take this ->🍫🎂🍬
Author: Munch Munch. Thank you for the snack. 👍
Hannibal Lecter Sr. :
At first, he would find your sensitivity inconvenient. He’s used to strength, resilience, people who know how to take care of themselves. But the first time he accidentally raised his voice at you—watching you flinch, your eyes welling up—he would feel something unexpected: guilt.
He’d kneel in front of you, tilt your chin up with infinite care, and wipe your tears with his thumb.
"You must never cry because of me," he would tell you. "Only fools cry when they are being attacked, little lamb. I will correct that flaw in you, make you stronger. Just never cry in my presence again."
Also, you would make him think of the little sister he lost at a young age. From that moment, your clinginess would be welcome. When you seek him out, clinging to his coat, to his sleeve, to his hand—he would let you, even encourage you quietly. You’re not weak in his eyes. You’re something rare, like a pearl formed out of pain. Something he must keep and protect. He would turn you into his perfect companion.
Hannibal Lecter Jr. :
Hannibal Jr. would immediately understand you. Maybe too well.
When you start crying, even over small things, he won’t mock you or get impatient. He would just calmly sit beside you, offering you a handkerchief, letting you cry it out while staying close—silent, solid, safe. He would never raise his voice at you intentionally. In fact, if someone else did, he’d correct them in a way so chillingly quiet that nobody would dare upset you again.
If you cling to him afterward, desperate for comfort, he would hum softly and rub your back, whispering against your temple:
"It’s alright, love. I am here. Cry all you need. They hurt you before. They won’t ever again."
You’d be like a beloved stray kitten he adopted and that he refuses to let the world harm anymore.
Morgan Hannibal :
Morgan would struggle at first. He’s sharp-tongued and sarcastic—he’s used to tough people giving it back to him. The first time you cried when he teased you too roughly, it would leave him dumbfounded.
He would freeze, panic clear in his wide blue eyes, and immediately backpedal, awkwardly trying to apologize even if he doesn’t know how.
If you cling to him, he wouldn’t dare push you away. He’d just awkwardly wrap his arms around you, swearing under his breath and hating himself for making you sad. He would tap your back awkwardly before attempting to smile reassuringly at you.
Over time, your clinginess would become something he craved. You would find him deliberately starting little ‘accidents’—spilling something, stubbing his toe—just to coax you into hugging him. Or if he found you crying ? Well…
"If you’re gonna cry," he’d smile down at you, "at least cry here. On me. I can take it."
If it was because of someone else ? Yep. Goodbye. He would hunt whoever made you cry and turn them into human sashimi.
Kevin Hannibal:
Kevin would be the worst and the best about it.
At first, he’d probably tease you, because he doesn’t understand how badly it hurts. "Oi, tears already ? Haven’t even started yet !"
But the moment he realized your history with being bullied—how much the words genuinely hurt you—it would wreck him.
You clinging to him like a lifeline would make him fiercely protective. If you sniffle and cling to his sleeve or jacket, he’d ruffle your hair (gently) and mutter,
"Yeah, yeah, alright, hang onto me. Anyone tries to mess with you again, I’ll bloody end them, alright ?"
Expect tight, tight hugs and messy kisses on your forehead whenever you get overwhelmed.
Peter Hannibal:
Peter would cry with you. No joke. The first time you burst into tears, he would just lose it emotionally right beside you. Big, teary, sniffly hugs.
You two would be clinging onto each other like two over-soaked teddy bears.
He wouldn’t even let go once you calmed down—he’d just hold you, petting your hair, rocking you back and forth.
"You’re perfect the way you are," he’d whisper against your ear, choked up. "Anyone who hurt you before…they didn’t deserve you. They were just mean. Do you want me to kill them ? Because I would. I mean…if you want to."
If you’re clingy, he’s even clingier. You’ll basically be a walking tangle of limbs, kisses, and murmured reassurances wherever you go.
#fandoms#imagine#fanfic#slashers#hannibal siblings#morgan hannibal#peter hannibal#the hannibal family#hannibal jr#hannibal x reader#hannibal family#hannibals#hannibal lecter#hannibal#peter hannibal x reader#morgan hannibal x reader#kevin hannibal x reader
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👀 Gale showing his wife just how much he missed her overseas?
hello, love! 😌 I've already written a smutty fic like that here so this time I went with a scenario of Buck coming back home and the emotional aspect of this situation since they haven't seen each other in almost two years 😳😭🥺
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
When Buck was leaving his wife to go to Europe, he was planning to come back to her quickly after finishing his twenty five missions as fast as possible. Or he would die, which was also a possibility. But he certainly wasn’t planning to get shot down and end up in a German camp for the rest of the war.
Every day, week, month he spent there was filled with one thought only – lost time. All the time he was losing on surviving at all costs instead of living his life at home with his wife who was bravely and patiently waiting.
“Do you think they're still waiting for us? Our girls?” DeMarco asked one evening when they were playing cards and killing time.
“You’re asking as if you were so faithful yourself,” Bucky teased him. “Plenty of men back home hunting for the military wives.”
Buck shot him an angry glance for a second. He had been faithful to his wife. And he was sure she had been faithful to him, too. He wanted to be.
“Don’t look at me like that, Buck,” his friend pushed him playfully. “You guys have seen his wife?” He asked the others and they nodded in response. They all had seen a picture of Mrs. Cleven because Buck always kept it with him and occasionally stared at it with soppy puppy eyes. “What I’m saying is that I’m sure there are lots of men ‘round town who chase her,” Bucky explained.
“Thank you for clarifying,” Gale gritted his teeth.
“And she’s only a woman after all, we’re all humans with needs,” DeMarco joined the teasing.
Buck stood up as the men looked up at him, confused.
“Come on, we are teasing,” Bucky grinned at him.
“I will not participate in this,” his friend sat on his bed instead and opened a book to read.
It was none of his business how his friends treated their wives and relationships but he was serious about his and he respected his wife more than anything. However, their jokes and teasing had planted a seed of insecurity in his mind.

When she held him for the first time after his return, it felt surreal. Her hands were so soft when they cupped his face, yet they squeezed him so tight that he felt like she would crush his organs. Gale couldn’t stop looking at her face, her sparkling eyes, her smile, every tiny wrinkle on her face, every little detail that he had forgotten already; that the black-and-white picture failed to capture.
He was back home but he felt like he was put in a glass jar. People’s voices sounded as if they were coming from another room. His wife’s hand squeezed his and it was the only thing grounding him. Even his own house felt odd and strange – he had remembered it differently. Now it was decorated with Welcome Home signs and filled with the neighbours patting his back and asking him millions of questions per minute.
So when they all left and he closed the door behind the last couple living down the street, Buck sighed with relief and turned around to face reality. The house was dark at this hour but there were dim lights turned on in every room on the ground floor. His wife was taking care of the dishes in the kitchen and he looked at his face in the mirror by the front door.
There were scars scattered all over his cheeks and he looked exhausted. But other than that, he was a lucky bastard who had gotten home safe and sound. Even if it had taken him much longer than expected.
Gale fixed his hair in the mirror and entered the kitchen, awkwardly leaning on the doorframe. It was his home but it didn’t feel like his space anymore. It was hers now – his wife’s. She was humming a song and washing the plates and cups with an apron put loosely over her cocktail dress.
“Where did you get a dress like that?” He asked softly and she turned around with a smile.
“Oh! You startled me for a second,” she gasped. “I’m not used to having someone creeping up on me like that,” she admitted and Buck approached her to start drying the freshly washed dishes with a cloth. He wanted to help in any way. “I bought it last week. Been saving money for something special for your return and since it took you so long to come back to me…” she chuckled nervously, “I saved quite a lot.”
“I’m sorry,” Buck blushed at her joke.
“No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was them Krauts who didn’t want to let you go, am I right?” She pushed his shoulder with hers and went back to washing the remaining cups. “If I was them, I wouldn’t want to let you go either,” she added.
She always tried to joke about almost anything, to turn everything into a situation worth laughing or at least smiling about. It was one of the things Buck adored her for.
They finished washing and drying the dishes and she took her apron off with a sigh.
“I’ll finish cleaning tomorrow,” she told him.
“I will do it. Tomorrow,” Buck told her and she smiled faintly at him.
“Come, sit on the porch with me,” she held his hand as if he was made of glass and led him outside. There was a wooden bench on the porch and a small light turned on, flowers in the pots and an ashtray.
“You smoke now?” Buck raised an eyebrow at his wife as he sat down.
“No, only sometimes. You see, I had women coming here in the evenings,” she explained and sat down next to him, “and we would sit here for hours just like that. And talk,” she added and laid her head on his shoulder.
He nearly flinched at that gesture. It was such a long time that he wasn’t used to affection anymore. Yet he craved more of it.
“I’m glad you weren’t lonely,” he whispered and put his arm around her.
“Oh, but I was… So awfully lonely,” she looked up at him and he looked down to meet her gaze. Her eyes filled with tears.
“My friends were teasing me that…” Buck swallowed thickly, “...that a woman like you… Well, that she’d be chased ‘round town by all the men here.”
He felt stupid admitting that and he knew that this sort of accusation would hurt her. But she didn’t look angry nor sad. She only chuckled.
“No men left, no,” she shook her head. “All the best ones were away or dead,” she hugged his chest and he sighed with relief. “And what about you, Major Cleven? Am I supposed to believe you’ve been faithful?”
“Not many women in a camp for the captive pilots, you know?” Buck rubbed her back.
“But I mean before that,” her finger played with one of the buttons of his shirt.
“You can ask Bucky if you don’t believe me.”
“Oh, I believe you,” she laughed. “You know, my friends teased me, too. They were saying there ain’t no way my man’s no cheater. But I knew you would never do that. I said, my Buck would rather die than look at another woman. And they all thought I was crazy,” she told him.
“You aren’t crazy,” Buck shook his head and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. “And you smell so nice. Is that a new perfume?”
“I didn’t use perfume,” she answered.
“Then it’s just you. You smell so nice,” he hummed to himself and buried his face in her hair.
She curled herself up in his arms and bit on her lip before asking in a shaky voice:
“Do you still love me?”
Gale’s heart skipped a beat as he looked down and raised her chin to make her look up.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you still love me?” She repeated the question and he took a deep breath in but she didn’t let him answer. “I know you think you do. And you had my picture but I am not that picture, Buck. I know you loved the picture and your little scenarios you were creating inside your head to keep yourself alive and I am not angry at you, not at all. But now when you’re back and when you see me, do you still love me or are you disappointed? Perhaps some part of you wishes I was that picture instead?” Her lower lip trembled as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I don’t know what to say, darling,” he admitted and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “But I can show you. Come,” he stood up gently and raised her up with him to lead her back inside and pick her up bridal style to carry her upstairs to their bedroom. Her bedroom. He hadn’t slept there for almost two years.
Buck switched the light on and laid his wife on the bed gently as she kicked her shoes off of her feet. He hovered over her on bed and joined their lips together in a sweet and gentle kiss as his fingertips caressed her jaw and neck.
“I missed you,” he whispered after breaking the kiss and looking deep into her eyes. “I missed the real you. That picture was never enough,” he assured her and she smiled at him before throwing her hands around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. Hers was more eager, though; it was hungry and sloppy and it encouraged him to roam his hands more freely all around her body.
“I’m scared,” she breathed out. “I’m scared that I’ve grown too used to being alone.”
“You’ll grow used to having me around again the same way. I’m not letting you go, sweetheart,” he bopped on her nose and she rolled her eyes with a chuckle.
“Buck Cleven, my hero,” her delicate hands cupped his cheeks and caressed the scars with her fingertips.
“I’m no hero,” he protested.
“To me you are,” she insisted and furrowed her brows. “You had to be in so much pain and I wish I could take at least some of it.”
“I would never want you to,” Buck kissed her wrist softly. “It would spoil all your sweetness.”
“Oh, it’s already spoiled. You haven’t seen me at my worst,” she confessed and he looked at her face, worryingly. “When I was going crazy without you here all alone. You’d send me to asylum if you saw.”
“I would not,” he assured her, seriously. “You haven’t seen me at my worst either. I don’t think you would like me like that,” he swallowed thickly as the horrific memories flashed in front of his eyes. “The things I did to come back to you…”
“Shh, I don’t have to know,” she pulled his face down and placed soft kisses upon his cheeks, nose and chin. “Unless you want to share it with me one day. But you don’t have to tell me anything, Buck.”
“I’m just so happy to be home,” he whispered almost inaudibly, their faces so close that their lips were touching.
“And I’m happy to have you back, baby,” she smiled and fixed his hair.
“Every breath was for you, every step, every bomb I dropped, every bullet I avoided, every day and every night. Just to come back to you,” he kept looking deep into her eyes. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
“Major Cleven,” she shook her head and rubbed her nose with his, “your wife would wait a million years for you, don’t you know…?”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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You Invite It
Requested Here!
Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader
Summary: Despite your sunny and smiley personality, Luca and another man get angry with you during a night out with 20-David. When Luca comes to apologize, you shy away from him, and he has to tell you how he feels before you will accept his help.
Warnings: angst, arguments, alcohol consumption, drunk man gets pushy with reader (none of the SWAT men, of course!), fluff, comfort at the end
Word Count: 3.7k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List
“There she is!” Hondo cheers when you walk in.
You smile and do a dramatic spin before bowing. Every member of 20-David smiles in return, as their day is instantly brightened just by your presence.
You’ve known the team for a while but becoming friends with them was easy. They are some of the nicest people you have ever met, and your constant good mood draws them in day after day. Luca is actually the reason you met the team because you were drawn to him, and once you became friends with him, the rest of the team followed suit. Thanks to Luca, you now have some of the best friends you could have ever asked for.
“How are you?” Luca asks as he pulls you into a side hug.
“I’m good,” you answer. Luca’s eyes drop to look over you quickly, and your smile grows as you add, “I promise I am perfectly fine. Safe and sound, see?”
Luca nods and turns his attention back to Hondo, but he keeps an arm around you. While he doesn’t always succeed, Luca tries to hide the depth of his feelings for you. He’s felt a unique connection the moment you met, a persistent desire to be close to you. Most likely, Luca will not admit it to anyone, but he is in love with you and knows it. He constantly checks on you because his love and care cause him to worry about you. Your safety is important to him because Luca sees the cruelty and monsters in the world daily and wants you far away from that. So, he hasn’t told you how he feels.
“We’re going to Jumbo’s tonight,” Street says. “You wanna come?”
“Sure!” you answer. “But I’m not playing anymore games with you.”
“I did not cheat!” Street argues.
“Yes, you did,” you and Luca say together.
“Thank you,” you tell Luca as you lean against him. “See, Luca said you cheat, so it must be true.”
“You would say that,” Street huffs.
“What does that mean?” you inquire.
You take Luca’s hand because it’s easily accessible where his arm hangs over your shoulder. He sends Street a warning look as you link your fingers with his.
“Nothing,” Street answers after a moment. “Just that you like Luca more than me.”
“No argument there,” you retort with a wink. “Maybe you could even the field if you’d stop cheating at darts.”
“It is literally impossible to cheat at darts!”
You laugh, and Luca smiles as you turn against him. His arm wraps around you, and he wishes you would stay with him forever. But even though he is looking forward to spending time with you tonight, he hates that it’s at Jumbo’s. Going there for a drink with his team is one thing, but they aren’t the only ones who notice your sunny and welcoming personality. He doesn’t know if he can handle watching you get hit on for much longer.
Street mouths, “Just tell her,” while you’re tucked against Luca’s chest, yet he is too concerned with you rejecting him to take the chance.
✯✯✯✯✯
It starts before you even get inside. Someone in the parking lot calls out and asks for your number, but your smile doesn’t falter as you rush inside to see your friends. 20 Squad just wrapped up a big case, so you are excited to celebrate with them. Spending time with them is a reward, but knowing they accomplished something amazing makes everything more interesting.
Street yells your name when you enter, and you quickly make your way through the crowd to join them at the usual table. The seat next to Luca is open, and as the team expected, you slide into it without hesitation. After hugging him and saying hello to everyone else, you listen to them recount the details of the raids they completed for the case. Your hand slips into Luca’s when they mention his exemplary driving, and he smiles at your attention.
“Hey, I’m going to go get refills. Everyone want more?” you ask as you stand.
Hondo reaches for his wallet, and you lean forward to hit his shoulder.
“My treat,” you add. “For keeping LA safe.”
“I’ll go with you,” Luca offers.
“I got it,” you promise.
You bump your shoulder against Luca’s as you pass him, and he turns to watch you. His protectiveness comes from a good place, but situations like this, when you’re out in public and men have no issue coming up to you and doing what Luca wants to do, are different.
“Why don’t you just tell her?” Deacon asks Luca. “It’s clear to everybody that you have feelings for her, and we all know you want to settle down.”
“With her,” Hondo adds. “And she clearly likes you, too. What are you waiting for, my man?”
“I just… I can’t risk being wrong,” Luca explains.
✯✯✯✯✯
As you approach the bar, you step around a group of guys to wedge in. One of them looks up when you brush against him, and you apologize before asking the bartender for another round for your table.
“Hey,” the guy beside you says after you finish. “I just wanted to let you know that I wasn’t, like, upset or anything. I turned around because you’re beautiful.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you reply.
Even though you turn back toward the bar, hoping to cut the conversation short, the man takes your happy look as an invitation to continue.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he offers.
“No, thanks. I’m here with friends.”
“Surely they can spare you for a few minutes. I’m sure they have before.”
“I’m really not interested. Thanks for the compliment, but I’m good.”
The man’s jaw drops slightly as you accept the tray of drinks with a smile and balance it in your hands as you return to the table.
✯✯✯✯✯
When you turn toward the guy, with your best smile on, Luca’s jaw clenches. He always keeps an eye on you but hates witnessing moments like this. Luca turns back toward the table as you approach, and only mumbles a thank you when you pass him another drink.
“What did the quarterback up there want?” Street teases.
You roll your eyes, unseen by Luca, and answer, “To tell me I’m beautiful.”
Luca picks up his drink and downs it quickly, too quickly, before excusing himself to take a call. You watch him walk out and then return to your conversation with Street and Hondo.
“Sorry,” someone says as they bump into the back of your chair.
“No problem,” you reply. “What’d she say then?” you ask Street.
“Um, excuse me,” the guy behind you says.
You turn and look up at him, and Street looks over at Hondo, who shakes his head in amusement. None of you notice Luca walk back in and freeze at the sight of a man standing beside his chair and talking to you. As if Luca wasn’t in a bad enough mood after the first one, now there’s a man in his spot flirting with you. He is used to being upset by other men taking your attention, but the anger building in him is new.
“I said no,” you repeat, finally dropping your smile.
“That means leave,” Street adds seriously.
“Sorry,” the man says, though you know he doesn’t mean it.
He knocks into the back of your chair again as he walks away, but you keep your attention on Street. You gesture for him to continue his story, and your smile reappears as he picks up where he left off. Unfortunately, all Luca sees is a man talking to you, and a smile on your face when he gets back. Luca drops into his chair without a word and gives his attention to the game on the TV over Deacon’s head.
“You alright?” Hondo asks.
“Fantastic,” Luca answers.
“Make a decision about that thing we were talking about?” Deacon asks.
The reminder that Luca has feelings for you that he hasn’t acted on does not help to improve his attitude or calm him down any. He wants to tell you, he does, but he’s scared. And right now, he is angry that you so openly accept the flirtations and advances of strangers but seem totally blind to how well he treats you.
“No,” Luca tells Deacon.
“Ten bucks that guy at the bar is buying you a drink,” Street says from your other side.
You groan and tip your head back.
“Getting tired of all the attention, pretty girl?” Hondo jokes.
“Yes!” you answer with a chuckle. “I think I’ve been flirted with and hassled enough tonight to never go out again.”
“Well maybe if you wouldn’t invite all the attention and learn to drop the smile and say no, it wouldn’t be an issue,” Luca snaps.
His eyes are still on the game, so he doesn’t see how quickly your smile falls at his comment. You look over at Street, but he, Hondo, and Deacon seem just as shocked at Luca’s outburst. Deacon tries to pick the conversation up again, but no one is quite as excited or willing to talk now.
“I’ll be right back,” you tell Street as you stand.
Luca sighs once you’re gone, simultaneously mad at himself for hurting your feelings and still upset with you because you can’t see his attachment to you. Street watches you go, and when Luca looks over, he can tell that he undoubtedly ruined the night. Luca assumes you’re heading to the bar for another drink and to let another man flirt with you, and he can’t take it.
“I’m calling it a night,” Luca says.
He stands and walks out of the bar without even looking for you, something he has never done before. Luca always takes you home, or at least offers to, after a night out. On the rare nights that you turn down his offer, he makes you promise to call him when you get home safe. So, when he leaves without a glance in your direction, the rest of his team knows that whatever caused him to snap is going to be a bigger problem than anticipated.
“Where’s Luca?” you ask when you return.
“He left,” Street answers quietly.
You look toward the door, but he’s already gone. Although you should probably be upset with him, you’re more concerned than anything. He’s acting out of character tonight, and that worries you.
“What did I do?” you ask as you sit.
“Nothing!” Street assures.
“He had a rough day,” Deacon adds. “And he’s not dealing with it very well.”
“It’s not your fault,” Hondo reiterates.
You nod, but it is clear to everyone at the table that the night is over. Whatever happened to Luca to make him snap, a long day, or maybe it's your fault, but he ruined everyone’s mood in an instant.
“Let me take you home,” Street offers as you stand.
“I- it’s fine, Street. I think I need to be alone right now,” you reply.
“Seriously, let one of us drive you,” Deacon implores.
“I’ll call a cab. It’s fine. Thank you, though.”
They nod and you hug each of them before stepping outside to wait for your ride. After watching the timer on your phone tick down, your vision grows blurry with unshed tears, and you turn the screen off and put it away. As you sit against a bench outside the bar, you nearly miss the man who ran into your chair earlier as he approaches.
“You wanna tell me no again without your boys to back you up?” he asks, slurring his words together.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply.
He stumbles as he steps toward you, and you can smell alcohol all over him. There’s no drink in his hand, so you know the strong scent is simply evidence that he is drunk. When he leans into your personal space, you stand and try to put some space between you.
“I said I wasn’t interested,” you remind him.
“Everyone is interested,” he argues as he raises a hand to your waist.
You try to push his arm away, but he tightens his grip and pulls you close as his other hand raises to your shoulder.
“Get off of me,” you demand.
“You told me no and now I’m returning the favor!”
You raise your hands to his chest and push as hard as you can, but his hands remain on you as he tips back. As he falls and pulls you to the ground with him you regret turning down Street’s offer for a ride. You didn’t want to talk about Luca, but now you would have that awkward conversation in a heartbeat.
The man pulls one of his hands from your skin and pushes you onto the sidewalk. He begins mumbling as he pushes you, but you have coordination in your favor. As you maneuver away from him, you look down the road and hope to see your cab approaching.
“No,” the man says while he grabs your hair.
You turn quickly and try to push him off again, but you can’t get any leverage before he pushes you against the brick wall. Leaning over the bench, you can feel warm blood running down your face, but even as the ground spins beneath you, you feel his hands move against your sides. Turning quickly and resisting the urge to be sick, you slap your hand across his face. He stumbles just as your cab approaches the curb. You rush into the backseat and lean against the headrest. The driver asks something, but you focus on staying conscious rather than answering her. She passes you a box of tissues, and you press a few against your head and try to breathe.
✯✯✯✯✯
Luca has been home for over an hour but hasn’t sat down yet. As he paces across the living room again, the anger dissipates, and he has the clarity to realize what exactly he said and did. Luca needs to apologize, and soon. After pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls you but doesn’t get an answer. Luca sends a text, but it goes unread for nearly five minutes. Next, he calls Deacon, who hasn’t heard from you since he left the bar after Luca. Luca ends the call with Deacon and begins to panic. If they left soon after he did, no one has heard from you in nearly an hour. When the door opens, Luca turns quickly.
“Street,” he says before asking about you.
“She wouldn’t let me take her home,” Street answers. “Why?”
“Because she’s not answering my calls,” Luca says quickly.
“I hope you were calling to apologize.”
“I was, and I will let you give me the whole speech later, but I need to go check on her.”
Luca picks up his keys and rushes to his truck. He could drive to your house with his eyes closed but forces himself to pay attention as he worries that he ruined everything with you and now truly doesn’t have a chance to show you how you make him feel and how much he loves you.
You don’t open the door after too much knocking on Luca’s part, so he pulls his keys out and uses your spare key to get inside. If you’re not here, Luca will call the entire team back to Jumbo’s to help look for you. There’s no sign that you got home from the bar, but Luca decides to search the house anyway. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom are empty. When Luca is prepared to start an all-out, city-wide search for you, he remembers he didn’t check the bathroom. His hope is low, but when he sees the bloody towel lying on the sink, his heart drops to his stomach.
✯✯✯✯✯
When the light turns on, you groan and turn your face away from the brightness. Your thoughts aren’t clear, but you know the light is hurting your head. When you force your eyes open, someone is kneeling beside you.
Luca sees the blood on the towel and on your face before noticing how dazed and confused you seem. When you open your eyes, Luca recognizes the distracted, cloudy look in them and decides you are likely concussed. He wonders if you were tipsy by the time you got home and fell, but he needs to tend to your head wound before he asks how you ended up in this situation.
When Luca raises his hand toward you, you shrink away from him. You push yourself into the corner and make yourself as small as possible, terrified that the man from the bar somehow followed you home and came to do what he started.
Luca, however, freezes at your blatant display of fear. A bruise spans your shoulder, and a darkening splotch surrounds your wrist. Because you moved, those marks are now on clear display for Luca. They look suspiciously like handprints and Luca’s guilt about leaving you multiplies tenfold.
“Hey,” Luca says quietly. “It’s just me. Luca, Dom, whatever cute little name you feel like calling me today. I know you’re probably mad at me, but I need to help you. Can I come closer?”
You look up and stare at him for a moment before nodding. Slowly, you move back toward him and offer your injured wrist.
“I got you,” Luca murmurs as he twists to look at the gash across your hairline and forehead. “And I’m so, so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just jealous that all those guys were approaching you and saying those things when I have real feelings for you. When I’m in love with you.”
“Love?” you mumble against his arm.
“Hey, stay awake for me,” Luca requests.
He cleans the wound gently, then places a few butterfly closures over it before bandaging your forehead. After pressing ice to your wrist, Luca helps you up and into bed.
“Stay,” you request as you lay on your pillow.
“I’ll be close,” Luca promises.
He stays in the living room when he isn’t checking on you and ensures the guys know you are okay. None of them know what happened, but Luca promises to ask you when you wake up. If you're willing to talk to him.
✯✯✯✯✯
When you wake up the following morning, you have a headache and a disjointed memory of a dream in which Luca showed up and helped you. You exit the bedroom after changing and stop suddenly when you see Luca in your kitchen.
“You really came,” you say aloud.
“I am so sorry,” Luca says again. “I don’t know if you remember what I said last night, but I didn’t mean what I said at the bar.”
“I remember pieces,” you admit as you tug on your fingers.
“Do you want me to leave?”
You shake your head and move closer to Luca. “After you left, I was really upset. So, when I left I called a cab because I didn’t want to have to talk to Street or Deacon about what happened…”
“About me?”
“Yeah. While I was waiting for the cab, that guy I told to leave me alone, the second one, I mean, came out. He was really drunk and started telling me that it was his turn to say no. He grabbed me, and I tried to fight back like you showed me, but I just couldn’t get the upper hand.”
“He grabbed you?”
Luca carefully takes your hand and frowns as he looks at the bruise on your wrist. You nod and move even closer.
“He pushed my head against the wall, and I slapped him, he tripped, and I just jumped into the cab without thinking. I- I would have called you once I was safe, but you clearly weren’t happy with me when you left.”
Luca closes his eyes as you continue.
“It hurt, Dom, what you said. I don’t try to invite it, you know. Whenever those guys make passes at me, I turn them down. So, when you basically said it was my fault that they don’t listen or respect me, I was really surprised, and it hurt my feelings.”
“I’m sorry. I- I didn’t even mean it. You don’t invite it, I know that. Trust me, I know that.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I know firsthand what it is like to be pulled in by you. I fell in love with you,” he admits. “And I didn’t have a bit of say in it. You walked into my life, and then I wanted you in it all the time. I care about you, so much, and seeing all those men close to you, where I want to be, made me angry or jealous. But taking it out on you was- should have never happened, and I’m truly sorry.”
Your brows furrow as Luca speaks, and when he finishes, you ask, “You- you didn’t know I turned them down, did you?”
“No.”
“I always do. Not just because I don’t like it, but because I have feelings for you.”
Luca’s eyes drop away from yours, and he feels worse upon hearing that your actions were at least in part done out of care for him.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“Stop,” you request.
Your wrist is still in his grasp, so you raise your other hand to cup his jaw.
“You said you fell in love with me,” you mumble. “Which is great, because I love you.”
Before Luca can react, you close the distance between you and kiss him. Luca’s hands move to either side of your neck, mindful of your pain as he kisses you. The memory of the hurt he caused drifts further from your mind with each movement, and knowing that Luca loves you, too, brings your smile back for a whole new reason.
Luca’s phone rings, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. When your phone rings immediately after, you pull back and answer it.
You hide your smile as you listen to the person on the other end. “It’s for you,” you tell Luca as you pass him your phone. “Just remember I love you.”
“Hello?” he asks.
“Dominique Luca!” Street begins.
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Hello, I saw that you are writing for gachiakuta and I was so happy to finally see someone giving love to this manga!! can I ask for rudo, enji and any other character you want comforting or reacting after the reader gets hurt on a mission or something? Thank you very much and I love your writing❤️💞 byeeee!!
don't get hurt m.list | rules
pairing. gachiakuta x fem!reader
characters. rudo, enjin, zanka, follo
note. thank you sm for your kind words, it made me so happy!! i'm glad you like my writing and i hope you'll love this one too <3
Rudo
When Zanka got hurt, Rudo blamed himself like crazy, and he swore to never let anyone get hurt the same way because of his goal. He couldn’t let this happen again and again. But he failed. He failed hard because you nearly died that day.
An ambush, no one thought of it, and you paid the price of it. Rudo felt like he was going mad. Not only did he almost destroy everything around them when your body hit the ground without any conscience left in it ; but also because it was his fault one more time.
Gris took care of you quickly when you fell, and you got brought back to the HQ before anyone else. You needed to be taken care of quicker than anything. It was risky to wait for the mission to be over, way too risky.
When they all got back from the mission, Enjin didn’t even have the time to say anything that Rudo was already asking about you. The boy was always so obvious about how he felt, and it always made him embarrassed, but today was different. He needed to know you were okay.
He hesitated a long moment before coming to see you in your room. He was afraid, because he was still blaming himself for making you take such risks for him. It almost cost your life, and it made him so angry at himself.
But when he got inside and you welcomed him with your warmest smile, Rudo felt everything disappear from his mind. He should be the one reassuring you and making sure you were fine, but you were worried about him too. You really were the sweetest person he ever met, and Rudo swore to himself to never let you get hurt because of him ever again. To never let you get hurt at all, actually.
Enjin
Make sure that everyone was okay, it was a rule for Enjin. He couldn’t bear the idea of having someone hurt under his sight ; but if it was you? Well, it was probably even worse. Enjin always trusted you but he was also always keeping an eye on you to be sure that nothing too bad would happen. But he couldn’t always be here.
You left for a mission on your own with Riyo and Gris ; and he knew them both enough to not worry too much about you. He didn’t expect you to come back half dead, carried on Gris’ back because you couldn’t even walk anymore.
He tried to keep his composure as much as he could, but he was about to freak out at any time. It was rare to see Enjin being something different than easy going, but the simple idea of losing you was making him feral.
His first reaction was the thought of killing the one who did that. Human, monster, anything ; he did not care. It had to pay for what it did. No one could bring him back in a calm state of mind, until you called for his name. A shaking whisper, but he heard you better than if you had shouted at him.
You needed him here, and it made him forget about everything else. Enjin stayed by your side the whole time, from the moment you fell asleep to the moment you woke up. He took care of you, made sure you were fine and worried about any little strange thing about your state of health.
Making sure that everyone was okay had always been his priority ; but being sure that you were fine had become even more important from now on.
Zanka
There was no way the vision in front of his very eyes was real. No way. You couldn’t be that hurt. He let you deal with this guy, and he trusted you more than enough to be sure that you would beat his ass in no time. So how? How did you end up getting so hurt, bleeding out on this disgusting floor?
Saying he rushed to you was an euphemism. No one had the time to realize what was happening that he was already yelling at Gris and Follo to get more help. He couldn’t care less about the state of the floor right now, kneeling down next to you while he held you closer.
“You better stay awake, because I am definitely not bringing back a corpse. You hear me?Don’t close your eyes.” A painful sigh left your lips as you tried to meet Zanka’s gaze. The worry in his eyes, it was the last thing you clearly remembered. Yet, you could feel his presence by your side all the way back to the HQ.
You took your sweet time to wake up. Zanka was the last one to come see you. You were sure that he was disappointed that you couldn’t fight alone, even if everyone tried to reassure you with that. You couldn’t think otherwise, he must be disappointed.
Zanka finally entered your room, after being sure that everyone had already come to see you. He sat on the bed next to yours, and you both stayed silent for a while. You slowly looked down at your hands, your voice going out in something barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry, I…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, his voice cutting you in no time. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asked, and you looked up at him with a lost face. You didn’t know what to tell him, because you never expected those words from Zanka.
“We’re a team ; and you better don’t die on me,” he told you, and you couldn’t help but to smile slightly. A team. Sure, you were one, and he’ll be more than disappointed if you said otherwise.
Follo
He hated to see you hurt. It was obvious, no one ever appreciated to see their loved ones getting hurt ; but for Follo, it was even more complicated than this. It was like a reminder of his own lack of abilities, how he was not stronger himself to take care of you the way he should.
He always hid his own anger by being a support for the cleaners, and he also knew you were more than capable of defending yourself ; but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to be able to take care of you enough so nothing could happen ; but here you were.
The mission had been particularly hard, for everyone, but you ended up in a pretty bad state at the end. When they brought you back, Follo cursed himself for not being here. He followed them everywhere, until they needed to get him out of your room by force. He didn’t want to leave you alone for even a second. What if things got worse when he was not here?
When you slowly woke up after a few days, everything was blurry. You had a few memories of what happened but you didn’t remember ending up here. The light was burning your eyes when you heard the soft breathing of someone next to you. You didn’t need to think twice to know who it was.
Follo was right by your side, kneeling on the floor next to your bed, his head resting on the mattress while his hands were holding yours so carefully. He didn’t take him much longer before he woke up and realized you were awake ; you were fine and alive.
You began to say something but he stopped you the moment before you could, and you swore you never saw so much pain and worry in his eyes before. “Don’t ever do that again. God, I thought I lost you too…”
You stayed silent while he was holding your hand between his, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss your knuckles softly. He was so scared you would break if he touched you too strongly. You have never been more careful during your missions than after this.
thank you for reading!
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