#his hair is all greasy and his eyes are puffy and his clothes are too much

[deceptive-daydreams]

Lost Like a Kid In a Supermarket - E.M.

Eddie x fem reader

3K Words

Eddie comforts you and does what he can when he sees that you’re doing bad again.

Warnings - depictions of mental illness, mentions of issues with eating, I think that’s it

Masterlist

Feeling like you’re getting bad again because living starts to feel like a chore more than usual.  The simple act of getting yourself something to eat is impossible, every time you open the fridge you’re met with overbearing anxiety that almost has you in tears.  

Fatigue has its claws latched onto you, no plans of loosening its grip anytime soon.  Messes are becoming more prominent, the pile of clothes in the corner growing bigger with every passing day and your patience wearing thin, wishing it would put itself away.  The dirty dishes make themselves at home in the sink and you feel them stare you down with every pass through the kitchen.  Guilt bites at you like a mosquito and yet…

You walk away.

A temper tantrum builds in your mind only for your physical being to remain expressionless, stagnant.  You are a shell of the person you were days ago and you mourn how naive you were then.  It usually comes in waves and you can normally sense when you’re about to go under but not this time.  This time it swallowed you whole without warning.  The pile of unopened mail begs to be opened and the lampshade across the room demands to be tilted back into its upright position.

Houseplants plead with you to water them, to at least open the curtain for some sunlight.  The chair you usually occupy at the dining room table wishes to be pushed in.  Your greasy, unkempt hair desires to be washed and unknotted, teeth only hoping to be brushed.  There is so much to be done and yet…

You continue to walk away.

Your beloved Eddie shows up unannounced for the first time this week, working at the auto shop occupying him all week up until now.  His gaze catches the numerous blankets littering the couch and the half drinken glasses of water scattered on the coffee table, the mess of crumbs on the counter that would otherwise drive you insane and be swept away immediately.  The bags of takeout flooding the trash can, spill over from when you did finally have an appetite.  You’d either overeat or not eat at all.

Big brown eyes turn sad when they land on your curled up figure, practically one with the couch.  Your eyes are puffy and accompanied by dark bags that indicate the amount of sleep you’ve been getting.  Complexion dull and devoid of any glow, you mindlessly stare at the TV playing a rerun of Friends.  You look as good as you feel and you wouldn’t blame him for walking out.

He stays.

Your gaze travels to him standing in the doorway, a gentle smile playing on his lips despite the melancholy scene before him.  A silent way to let you know he’s happy to see you.  All you can offer is the most subtle upturn of your lip that is gone just as soon as it arrives.  Toeing his shoes off near the front door, he strides over and perches himself next to you, everything Eddie invading your senses in the moment, giving you a brief second of relief from the hell you’d been subject to.  The smell of his shampoo lingering from his freshly washed curls fills your nose, the green apple one you’d picked out for him and he continued to buy, his cologne that had hints of cinnamon.  If a look of sympathy crosses his features, you’re too far gone to notice.

A brush of his hand against yours with a soft ‘hi’ makes you turn to look up at him next to you.  He would surely get disgusted by you eventually and leave, right?  Become so fed up with your mental illness that he’d decide to find someone worth giving the time of day to.  Someone who could leave the house without a second thought, someone without so many issues.  There was no way he could love you with all of your baggage, your copious amounts of baggage.  But up until this point so far…

He’s stayed.

Unable to form a coherent word, you try another smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes, barely even reaches your lips.  And he just knows.  It’s obvious he knows, your apartment is in shambles and your appearance is gruesome.  How could anyone not notice how far gone you were at this point?  But unlike just anyone, he also knows how to help, how to pick you up while in such a frail state, and how to manage the demons that plague your every thought.  He understands all too well  just how suffocating it can all become, how isolating the dark corners of your mind can be—his own brain subjecting him to the same torment at times.

And rather than leaving or turning a blind eye like everyone else, he coaxes you up from your divot in the couch, despite the small protests coming from you.  Hand gripping yours while he tugs you up from the couch, he looks at you with such concern, such care behind his gaze—love, unconditional love in spite of the horrific disaster that is you.  “I missed you.” He speaks quietly as you stand in front of him, longing for your spot on the couch.  A gentle upturn of his lips has you cursing yourself for being unable to find the words he deserves, your nonverbal state all you are able to offer with the billions of thoughts swarming your mind and the crushing pressure of life dragging you down.  So you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head against his chest, a ‘thank you’ in the muted language he’s come to learn from you.  Your grip on the back of his shirt is tight, your way to communicate ‘I missed you too’.

A ringed hand brushes against your cheek, knuckles just barely kissing your skin as he ever so slightly pulls back to look at you again.  Big Bambi eyes scan your face, no doubt spotting your sunken eyes and worn out expression even closer up.  Biting his lip in some kind of anticipation while inhaling slowly, he speaks again.  “Have you been eating?” His tone is gentle, treading lightly among the heavy topic, not wanting to cause you more grief over yourself though his eyes are the slightest bit glassy.  Now staring at the floor, you inhale shakily before forcing yourself to at least whisper—that much he deserves.  “Sometimes.” You answer truthfully.  On the nights that you did eat it ended up being half of the actual meal, sometimes a third depending on when it began to make you feel nauseous.  There were a few days in between you’d overeat only to also feel nauseous.  The key factor being you would only eat one meal a day, a snack at most on some days.  His features are sad, brows knit together and frown painted on his lips.  And yet his reply says everything.  “Okay.”

A hushed voice in the dim lighting of your apartment displays nothing but empathy.  Though it’s only one word you hear several.  No judgement.  Only the vow that he’s there for you even when you weren’t there for yourself.  He’s nodding his head as he takes another glance around the room before focusing back on you.  Again, he speaks.  “Okay.”  As if he’s decided on something.  “C’mon.” He whispers, fingers interlocking with yours while leading you to the bathroom as he usually did when things got bad.  Turning the shower on, taking care to turn the knob to the exact temperature you like, he begins lifting your oversized sweatshirt over your head, your chosen wardrobe for the past week.  You know the drill, stripping off your remaining clothes as you hop into the shower but instead of standing under the steaming stream of water you sit with your knees tucked into your chest, water trickling down your skin.  Soon after the warmth of Eddie’s skin is on yours while he tucks himself behind you, his hair dancing over your shoulder while he curls his body around yours, his chest to your back.  “I’ve got you.” He mumbles against your back, lips caressing your skin.  Gentle kisses make their way up your back, over your shoulder, to your jaw, and finally your cheek where he nuzzles his nose into you softly.  Muted ‘I love yous’ scattered along your skin.  

The intimate act of washing your body always made him feel honored, suds lathering under his fingertips and the smell of your citrus body wash consuming the small space.  Washing your hair was a daunting task but not for him, he was patient as he worked his way through it, concentration etched into his features.  Everything you couldn’t do for yourself in the moment, he was glad to take over.  “Turn around for me, baby.” He talks quietly.  You oblige and face him, you crisscrossed in between his legs.  His curls are soaking wet, becoming longer with the amount of water filling them, bangs pushed to either side of his temples for a better view.  He grabs your razor from the little shelf on the wall, smoothing his hand over your leg.  He knows you don’t shave for the appearance but because the feeling of your legs rubbing together when you’re laying down makes you nuts.  He could tell it was getting to that point by the way you itched at your leg in the living room earlier as you always did when you desired a clean shave.  And so he carefully drags the razor along your leg, collecting the little hairs and tapping it off into the drain behind you, repeating until he moves onto the next leg.  The simple act of him assisting in keeping up with your hygiene made you want to cry for many reasons.  The main ones being that he shouldn’t have to fucking do this for you and that you never thought anyone could be this sweet.

While you’re standing in nothing but a towel in the middle of the bathroom, Eddie is gathering some comfortable clothes for you.  And sure enough he comes bearing one of his T-shirts—one of the many that he keeps in one of your drawers along with a pair of his boxers for you to wear.  He even goes as far as to dress you, finishing it off with a peck to your nose.  “Will you have dinner with me?”  He asks genuinely, eyes pleading while his hand finds yours and he presses an endearing kiss to your knuckles.  While you don’t have much of an appetite, the least you can do is try.  For him.  For all he’s done for you without a single complaint, a single hint of hesitance.  Only true and undeniable love, no intent to gain anything other than a smidge of your happiness.  You nod.  “Yes.”

That night he cooks you something safe, something he knows that even if you won’t touch a lot of it right now, it’ll be in the fridge for you to easily heat up with no extra steps.  He even goes as far as to light a candle on the countertop between you two as you sit on the bar stools nibbling at your dinner.  Anything to make the environment a little more serene for you, a striking comparison to how it’s been the past week.  One of your shared favorite shows plays on your laptop on the counter as well, giggles coming from Eddie every now and then while he eats.  A few from you as well every now and then.

His attention shifts to you and it’s evident that you’re poking around at your food after only taking one bite.  You feel his elbow bump yours, the sudden contact surprising you while you quickly turn to look at him.  He eyes your food, then you, then your food again.  A telltale sign that he’s begging for you to eat.  “I’m no chef but I didn’t think I fucked it up that bad.”  He jokes, worry still filling his chocolatey irises.  You mumble a ‘sorry’ while looking down at your plate ashamed.  “Sweetheart, don’t ever be sorry.”  He ducks his head down to catch your gaze.  “I don’t want you to be sorry, okay?  Just want you to eat and be healthy.”  He further explains.  His tone is pleading.  You nod and try again.  For him.  This time you’re able to stomach a few more small bites, leaving some food still on the plate but Eddie is satisfied with the progress.  

Your mind starts going into a frenzy after dinner, switching from being ignorant to the mess that is your apartment, to now being hyper aware of every misplaced item and dirty dish, every crumb left behind on the kitchen counter and every wrinkled up blanket that had been living on the couch.  The way your laptop sits on the countertop now has you cringing, it’s one more item that doesn’t belong.  Eddie notices this as you begin frantically gathering your belongings in your hands and arms, laptop balanced on your forearm,  half filled cups from the coffee table squeezed between your bicep and your chest, a book cradled in your other arm, and a blanket dangling from your other hand.  You’re quickly moving between rooms to put everything back where it belongs.  As you make your way back to the kitchen, the sight of the dirty counter, pots on the stove, dishes in the sink, and the nagging pile of mail make you inhale shakily.  At this, Eddie rushes to your side before you can make this worse for yourself.  “Let me help, you take the counter and I’ll take the dishes.”  He announces, knowing that you would never go to bed without cleaning given the dramatic switch of your mental state.  With a watery sigh and a sniffle, overwhelmed but determined, you nod and quickly start grabbing something to wipe down the counter.  He knows you don’t want to do this right now but you have to.  Otherwise you would drive yourself crazy and have trouble sleeping.  

The kitchen gets cleaned in no time thanks to Eddie’s quickness and your ability to multitask, your determination kicking into gear just before giving out again, most likely sending you into another pit of exhaustion.  You obsess over one last spot on the microwave, the debris not rubbing off as easily while you scrub it forcefully.  Strong hands place themselves on your wrists, Eddie’s tall figure shadowing over you.  Gently, he works the rag out of your hand and playfully bumps his hip against yours, nudging you out of the way.  “Darlin’ this stain has been in the works for weeks.  Trust me, I’ve been trying.”  He smiles, tossing the rag over the sink.  His arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your crown.  “I’ll buy you a new microwave if it makes you feel better.  Gotta wait til’ the morning though.”  He mumbles, fingers delicately sliding along the small of your back.  Finally finding your voice again, you look up at him.  “No, that’s ridiculous.  Can we just take turns every other night scraping at it?”  You gesture to the microwave, a hint of humor in your voice, finally.  “Maybe if we do it enough it’ll eventually go away?”  You say, squinting your eyes.  A laugh escapes Eddie, his hands squeezing your sides.  “There’s my girl.  Been looking for you.”  His smile is contagious, your mouth widening with him.  “It took a minute but here she is.”  You’re now gesturing to yourself with subtle jazz hands.  “Yeah, well it kinda felt like I was a kid lost in a supermarket there for a second.  You know how scared I get when I’m lost at the supermarket.”  He partially jokes.  He so totally does get scared when he can’t find you in the store, an ongoing problem due to his short attention span.  

You giggle, your head now against his shoulder as he holds you in the dim light of the kitchen.  “You know what?”  You ask, Eddie humming in response, his chest vibrating.  “I felt like a lost kid in the supermarket too this past week.  Except probably times a thousand.”  You admit.  His hand cradles your jaw as he makes you look at him, rings cold but refreshing against you.  “I know, baby.”  He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.  A look of sincerity takes over his features.  “Wish I could take it all away.”  A soft kiss is pressed to your lips.  “Fuckin’ supermarkets.”  His playful tone returns as he shakes his head.  “Fuckin’ supermarkets.”  You repeat, unable to contain your smile.

That night as you snuggle up in the sheets, Eddie’s arms around you protectively, you find yourself starting to drift off into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a week.  And before you let yourself drift off, a whisper is heard among the quiet of your room, only the moonlight bathing your surroundings.  “I love you.”  Shifting to face him, the glow of the moon gives you the ability to see his features, soft and endearing as he completely lets his guard down with you.  “I love you, too.”  You whisper back.  His lips find yours, pillowy and plump as he conveys his feelings to you in a slow, sensual kiss.  “I love you most.  You hear me?”  His finger grazes your bottom lip lovingly.  You kiss him again, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.  “I hear you.” You say softly.  “Supermarket boy.”  You tease.  He scoffs, pushing himself up to hover over you.  “Keep crackin’ jokes, baby but I’ll get the last laugh and I’ll make sure if it too.”  He warns.  Your hand finds his cheek, stubble underneath your fingertips, a fond smile on your face.  “Will you?”  You ask with a hint of doubt.  His face is now inches from yours, breath fanning over you.  “Sweetheart, don’t ask questions you can’t handle the answers to.”  He says breathily.  “I won’t.”  You state as if it’s a fact.  He traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, your lip dragging down and then popping back into place as he releases it.  “You’re such a fuckin’ brat.” He laughs admiringly.  Within these moments, you're forced to recognize…

Eddie will always stay.

~end~

Masterlist

[togetherhearted]

Commission for @ahhlito [at this point I feel like it is you? After all so many kind gestures towards me 😭]

Topic-Headcanon or drabble about Reader taking care of Pino.

Fun fact,The LoP oc I made is unironically a maid that likes to take care of him like a big sister. I tried my best to not indulge myself too much. I hope you'll like it!

PUPPET CARING

Pino had left many hours ago. It was supposed to be a quick trip outside;or so Geppetto said. Your eyes often glanced outside in hope to see the familiar puffy brown hair coming close to the hotel. Still nothing, so you went back to your chores, not noticing him passing the gates. The puppet dragged his feet inside the hotel's hall. His head was high like always. He shook his metal arm;dripping of oil. Droplets hit the carpet and floor and Polendina thanked the heavens Antonia was not here to see him making a mess 5 seconds in. Pino was positively drenched from head to toe of whatever substance puppets and those new weird zombies released while dying. Sophia went to greet him but stopped mid-walk -Oh- Was everything she could muster. Pino was looking really messy this time. She made him stay put, near the stargazer and went to call you in a hurry. Her light blue shoes ticking on the marbled floor. Polendina instead grabbed a mop and cleaned the floor around a confused Pino who tilted his head and looked at him through all the chore. You walked downstairs, ready to greet the puppet when you stopped mid-stairway. -Oh- You had the same reaction as Sophia. -I told you this was...umh- The other woman tried to find the right words. You huffed and puffed your chest proudly. -Leave it to me. I can handle this- You walked towards Pino. You extended your hand towards him but when he seemed to extend his greasy one you took your hand back. -Ok, never mind Pino. Follow me. We have lots to do- The puppet gave a firm nod and followed you upstairs. Pino followed you in the bathroom where he was undressed and immerged in the warm bubbly bath you promptly prepared. This was the first time he had a bath;he must have been in a bad shape;luckily he seemed waterproof;except for the metal arm that you removed. As the puppet played a bit with a rubber duck you passed him your hands found their way to his hair. Pino tilted his head up and blinked at the foreign sensation. -Sorry,didn't mean to startle you- Pino shook his head and put your hand back in his hair. You figured he liked to have his hair washed. Since he had no problem with being immerged for a long period of time, you moved your attention to his legion arm; scrubbing away all the oil and dirt stuck in the cranes. -They did a number on you, mh?- Pino nodded as his eyes watched you turning his arm like new. It was sparkly even. After his legion arm it was turn of the clothes. You threw everything in a wooden basin and cleaned them. Pino watched you intently;his cogs made ticking noises;he almost seemed happy someone was taking care of him and his belongings. Once done with those as well,you wrapped the puppet in a warm cloth to dry his body and hair. Pino was calmly sitting at the edge of the tub; enjoying your proximity. He wondered if he could the same to you;take care of you like you just did to him. Then an idea came to his...mind. He was going to wash you to repay your kindness, so he pushed you in the tub;drenching you from head to toe. -Pino!W-why?! Why you did t- Pino put his cold finger on your lips before grabbing a sponge. You did the math and burst out laughing. -Oh, you're so silly...-

If you'd like to commission or leave a symbolic support you can do it here

[namjoonboo]

Hiii!! I love your work and I was wondering if you could do some angst witg Taehyung, were they both have a big fight but they make up in the end with some fluff, also cand you do it a bit longer :)?

Forgive .

Taehyung x male reader

Warnings: heavy angst(?), mostly fluff at the end.

A/N: I haven't checked my requests in a while so sorry if I did this one a little too late:( and ofc I can make it longer! I love making angst so like. Also I think I'm shadow banned uhmm.

This fic was inspired by this fic. I made it a while ago and I made it kinda similar to it.

....

Taehyung didn't know what to do. Him and Y/N got in a big fight recently. It was about something very stupid.

"But she was obviously flirting with you!" Y/N said in anger. Taehyungs eyes went wide at Y/N's sudden anger. "Y/N please chill down.." "ARE YOU KIDDING ME TAE? DIDN'T YOU SEE HOW CLOSE SHE WAS TO YOU..?" Y/N screamed out. Taehyung didn't know what to say.

But when he did say something, it was all the wrong words. "YOU KNOW WHAT? LETS JUST BREAK UP THEN!" Taehyung slapped his hand on his mouth. He saw Y/N's face go blank. "Fuck you taehyung. I'm leaving" Y/N said not looking back at taehyung and slamming the door loud. "No Y/N please come back..!!".

Taehyung ran out the door to see Y/N going into his car. "Y/N I didn't mean it! Please come back I-" taehyung said tears coming down his cheek. He saw Y/N turn around without looking at him.

"Tae." Y/N said while taehyung was shocked at Y/N using his nickname. Y/N went closer to taehyung. "I need to think." Y/N said trying not to cry. "Does this mean we are over? Please! I didn't mean it!" But when he tried to talk Y/N walked away and went into his car and drove away..

...

Currently taehyung was laying in his bed. Currently crying and wiping his tears. 'Why did I say that!' Taehyung thought to himself. He sent Y/N tons of messages to forgive him.

He didn't mean what he said. It was just an accident. He wished Y/N was cuddling him right now. Taehyung threw his phone on the floor and hearing some glass break. He curled up to a ball and wiped his tears.

His eyes were red as hell and puffy. His hair was a mess and his lips were brused since to him biting them. He wished he could explain to you that he was in the wrong for going too far.

Taehyung decided to go to the bathroom but when he did, he couldn't believe that he looked like this over a fight. Taehyung tried not to cry the 100th time. "I wish I could just explain to him." Taehyung sighed and took a shower.

When taehyung hoped into the shower, he felt the warm water hit into his back. The warm water sent shivers down his spine and made him shiver. Taehyungs hair felt greasy after not taking a shower for 2 days.

"I just want him back. Fuck!"

.....

But taehyung didn't know that Y/N was also a big mess. 'Should I respond?' Y/N thought to himself biting his nails and staring at his phone. Y/N was overwhelmed from all of this. He wanted to talk to taehyung.

Y/N knew that taehyung was effected by this and is probably a mess right now. 'Fuck it'.

...

'Who's ringing by doorbell?' Taehyung thought while he just got out of the shower but already in his clothes. Taehyung put his phone down and dried his hair. Taehyung put his hand on the doorknob. Taehyung was scared to answer but he didn't think twice and opened the door.

Taehyungs eyes went wide. He saw his handsome boyfriend at his door. "What are you doing here....?" Taehyung said taking a step back. "Can you come outside for a second? We need to talk" Y/N said back looking at taehyungs puffy eyes.

"O-oh okay.." taehyung followed Y/N sit down on the stairs in front of his house. Taehyung sat down right next to Y/N. Y/N scooted a little bit away from taehyung and took a breath and then looked at taehyung. "Can we.. start over again? I think I overreacted and I realized what I did." Y/N admitted. Taehyung slowly looked at Y/N and sighed.

"You almost made me scared if we were going to break up. Come here" Taehyung opened his arms for Y/N to give him a big hug. Y/N laughed. "Your such a idiot.." Y/N said giving in and giving Taehyung a big hug. They both cried happy tears. The silence was good silence. Y/N grabbed Taehyungs collar and gave him a kiss/peck on the kiss.

"I love you taehyung" "I love you too Y/N"

....

Made by namjoonboo on January 17th 2023

[danny-chase]

Hiya!! 74 + Dick and Roy for the drabble ask game?

74. Are you challenging me?

Dick didn't know how they got into this situation. Well, he did know. But it was really stupid.

Monday, he was hanging out with Donna, innocently trying on her clothes and making her laugh while they took silly stupid pictures. "This is kinda cute." He admitted, eyeing himself in the mirror. The high waisted jeans paired nicely with the low cut crop top. Lunch with the team was soon, he figured, what the heck, he looked good, he felt good, and so he walked out wearing it.

Tuesday, he was sitting at his desk in the common space, typing up the details of their latest Titans adventure, when Roy walked in wearing a crop top. Noticeably, it showed more of his tummy then Dick's did (he hadn't had time to change out of Donna's, between the paperwork and doing some chemical testing for an investigation). Maybe the lack of sleep was making him paranoid, but this felt like a direct attack. "Are you challenging me?" He asked. Roy shrugged, and casually walked out.

Wednesday, Dick took scissors to one of his own old t-shirts. Maybe he should have spent the time napping instead, but he felt vindicated as he walked into the Titan's training room, and took out his anger on a punching bag.

Thursday, "Quit messing with him." Donna muttered, before going quiet as Dick walked into the room. She smiled politely, but Dick's eyes were laser focused on the base of Roy's ribcage. "I'm not doing anything." Roy followed her gaze. "Oh, hi, Dickie, want to join us for some lunch?" The smug bastard had a dastardly handsome smile on his face, never mind that the crop top revealed ridiculously muscular abs. "No thanks." Dick huffed, and stormed out of the room.

Friday, he found himself in Donna's room again, straight up borrowing a sports bra. "I feel like this might be a step too far." Donna looked at him, upside down, flopped over her bed. Dick glared at her. She shrugged. "Whatever, you do you. I did say you could borrow whatever you wanted." He marched right past her, out into the hallway, and practically ran into the common spaces trying to find Roy.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, and that's when everything fell apart. He looked ridiculous. His hair was greasy, and his eyes were puffy. He was breaking out again, and his stomach chub stuck out in all the wrong ways. It wasn't cute anymore, the bra wasn't his color, and his skin was scarred in ugly ways. "Wow." Dick was bordering on screaming when Roy stepped into the hall. He had the nerve to whistle. "I think you win, Rob."

"Yeah." Dick took one last look at himself before storming off. "Right."

[little-cereal-draws]

The first time Steven goes to work in the first episode, he looks like a drowned rat

[hooman4ever]

!SFW! ‘Here to Catch You’ Jesse |Chromeskull| x GN Reader

Contains: Self-harm Comfort, Self Harm, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Requested -badboiTM- on Wattpad

This was my first time writing for Chromeskull so I hope I did his character justice.

Jesse was absolutely giddy. He had just returned from a particularly long business trip and the only thing he wished for, as he pushed the front door to his home open, was to grab you and drag you to your shared bedroom for some much-needed affection. 

‘I'm home, Love.’ He texted you hanging his coat by the door and slipping his shoes off as he awaited for the eventual padding of your feet as you rushed to his side, a beautiful smile on your face. That sound always had managed to pull his own smile onto his face, he found it humorous how you would practically bolt through the halls to get to his side. Jumping into his arms as soon as you were close enough. He would be ready with open arms. Even if you did start to fall, miscalculating the distance you had to leap, he would swoop you up spinning you around. 

However, no sound came. Dread began to form in the pit of his stomach. 

He knew about your past and your struggles with mental health. That was part of the reason he never tried to stay away from you for too long, and why this trip, in particular, had him worried. He even had staff on speed dial for both you and him in case you had a relapse of any sort. All it would take is one call and he would be speeding on his way home to you. Everyone he could reach rushing to you to ensure your safety. 

You were too precious for him to lose.

Jesse didn’t wait for you to come rushing to him any longer, already setting off deeper into your home in search of you with a worried haste. He felt as if his legs couldn’t move fast enough, his need to make sure you were safe overwhelming. 

His feet were heavy against the floor and he made a beeline for your shared bedroom. As Jesse approached he could see the door was cracked open, the inside completely dark despite the hallway lights all being on. Quietly Jesse pushed the bedroom door open. 

The sight he was greeted with had him stilling momentarily his shoulders tensing. 

You were laying on your side in the fetal position on the large bed set in the middle of the room. Both of your arms were wrapped around his pillow, cuddling the thing in a vice grip. Your back was to Jesse. He could see from where he stood in the doorway how your hair was greasy and a mess, your clothes in a similarly disheveled state. 

His lips were pulled into a tight line. Letting his shoulders fall he pushed forward sitting next to you in the bed. One of his hands reached out placing itself on your exposed shoulder, he let his thumb rub soothing circles into your back. Letting you know he was there. Your shoulders shook under his touch silent sobs breaking past your lips. Jesse wasted no time sliding into the bed behind you curling up around you, shushing you with a line of kisses placed along the back of your neck. He was there, every kiss told you over and over again.

Once his kisses had paused you shifted turning to face him. Jesse saw the red lines buried into your wrists instantly. Thankfully they were no longer bleeding out but a few had died blood surrounding them. He made a note to get you cleaned up later as his arms surrounded you, cradling you into his chest.

Jesse held you as you sobbed, letting you use his shirt as a tissue soaking up your tears. It was an unappealing display, but Jesse could care less as he tried his best to soothe you. Fingers brushed away the hair crusted to your forehead slicking it back with the rest of your hair. Tear tracks seemed to be burned into your cheeks, your eyes puffy and red along with your lips. 

It hurt Jesse to see you like this. He hated when you were in distress. A part of him wished he could go into your mind sorting through your life and ridding you of any painful memories. Only leaving you with those happy moments in between that seemed so insignificant when you found yourself lost in a pool of your misery. 

As you cried into Jesse the man placed kisses on your face. Hoping that every time his lips touched your skin you would be reminded of how much you meant to him. How much he loved and valued you. 

He hoped to burn a trail of love where tear tracks once sat, washing away the pain in your eyes. As you looked up at him sniffling, he knew he had succeeded this time. 

Jesse was no fool- he knew more breakdowns just like today were to come, but then, he would be there once again at the ready. Armed with kisses and soft love-filled touches. He would be there for you with his arms outstretched ready to catch you before you could bruise your knees on the ground where your body would have fallen. 

He would be there to clean and dress your wounds and aches nurturing you back to happiness over and over again until it stuck. 

Jesse was a stubborn man after all, and if he had to bend the world to make you smile one more time. 

He gladly would for the rest of his life. 

[hanniiesuckle17]

Ateez Reaction: Hangover

A/n: i am so obsessed with Ateez. like wow. damn. so this is my first ateez reaction but i cant wait to do more! I'm still a new Atiny so please go easy on me and i hope you like it!

Tag List: @ashisparanoid​ @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​

Warnings: cussing

Hongjoong:

You awoke to pain between your legs and sore muscles all around your body. Normally, you took pretty well to hangovers. They never bothered you much. However, the night prior both you and your boyfriend had quite a lot to drink which led to a very...explorative and wild night.

You made a small attempt to sit up, but that was quickly stilled by the aching pain all over your mostly bare body. Rolling over, you grabbed the closest shirt on the floor and wheezed at the twinges of pain as you lifted it over your head. Looking over you saw Hongjoong still fast asleep. He lay on his stomach, the muscles in his back shifting every now and then. 

Smiling, you pressend gentle kisses along his bare skin. Slowly he began to wake up. “Oh- my head-.....good morning, gorgeous.” His voice was raw sending shivers down your spine. His red hair was sticking up in wild directions, reminding you of a cute Einstein. His lips were puffy and there were several red marks on his neck and shoulder. “Is your hangover as bad as mine?” He mumbled, rubbing the fatigue and sleep away from his face.

“I have a small headache. I’m mostly sore...and hungry.”

“Ooooo! You know what sounds perfect?” Hongjoong mused, bottom lip tugging between his teeth. “Pizza.”He laughed seeing your eyes light up. Reaching over on the night stand he pulled out his phone and began ordering a huge pizza, with you looking over his shoulder. 

“Do you think they would deliver it straight to the bed? I don’t wanna get up.” 

Hongjoong laughed and finished the order before rolling on top of you and covering your face with lazy kisses. “Good thing I have the day off. I feel like shit and I have no plan of leaving this bed.” After a little while the two of you heard a knock at the apartment door. “I’m not getting up,” Holding out your fist the two of you played rock, paper, scissors for who had to get up and answer the door. Hongjoong groaned as you crushed his two fingers with your fist. 

“Fuck you,” He said with a light hearted laugh before throwing off the covers and grabbing a clean pair of sweats to cover himself. 

“You already did. Multiple times.”

Joong left laughing and came back with a pizza in hand. The two of you sat in bed the rest of the day, snacking on the greasy food and chasing away the hangovers and aches.

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa didn’t drink often. He preferred to be the sober one of the group; making sure no one got arrested or molested or something like that. Even when he got drunk with you, the next morning he was always the one taking care of you. He’d pop about twelve painkillers and rush around making you soup and getting medicine for your headaches. 

This morning was not the normal case. Last night he and Hongjoong had gone out and come back blasted. Waking up to Hongjoong drooling on your couch was definitely not what you had expected. After kicking him out with money for a cab and a thermos of coffee you turned your attention to your now groaning boyfriend. You leaned on the doorframe and watched Seonghwa starfish and moan in the center of your shared bed. 

“Morning, Toothless.”

“This is not morning. This is death. I am Death. Your Toothless is dead.”

There was no stopping the laugh that bubbled up in your chest. “What about my Seonghwa? Where is he?”

“He’s dead too. Too much vodka.”

Nodding, you played along before slinking into the bathroom and grabbing two Advil and glass of water. The cup thunked against the night stand and Seonghwa buried himself further into the blankets. “Tell your ghost there is medicine on the table.” The only answer you received was a shaky and pathetic groan from a lump of blanket. “Such a fucking drama queen,” You mumbled with a laugh.

You spent the next thirty minutes making Seonghwa hangover soup. You had found a recipe marked “For Tequila Y/n Aftermath” and assumed it should get your boyfriend back in working- or at least functioning- order.

Carefully, you brought a steaming bowl into the bedroom and forced Seonghwa to sit up against the headboard. He turned to you with puppy eyes. “Feed me?” Rolling your eyes, you reached for the bowl and gave him a spoonful. His eyes lit up with a happy smile. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Toothless.” 

Yunho:

“Wake up, lovebirds!” San screamed, throwing open the curtains. 

Both you and Yunho shrugged away from the light. “San, fuck off!” You mumbled, burrowing further into Yunho’s chest. You whined as he sat up. Hearing San shriek you could only assume Yunho threw a pillow at the younger boy. 

“How bad is your hangover?” Yunho asked, wrapping his long arms around you. 

“How bad is yours?”

“Not too bad.....” You scoffed and pinched his arm making him yelp. “Okay-that was a lie. It’s pretty bad.” 

“Same here.” 

Your cold fingers wrapped around the blankets and pulled them over both your heads. “Let’s never drink again.” Yunho mumbled, eyes closing. The sheets rustled as he threw one of his long legs over you, hugging you with his entire body. 

You chuckled, poking your boyfriend’s puffy cheek. You could only imagine how bloated your face was. “You and I both know that’s not gonna happen.” His lips pouted in frustration, eyes still closed. Unable to resist his cuteness you leaned up and pecked his lips. One peck turned into a few. A few turned into many. 

“Hey, baby?” Yunho mumbled, lying on his back. You hummed, tracing patterns on his chest. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” You laughed and let him loose from your arms. Your giant boyfriend lumbered into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Your body ached and your head was throbbing against the frame of your skull. After a few moments Yunho emerged with a wet washcloth and his breath smelling like mint tooth paste. He still looked very hungover. “Come back to bed, bear.” He crawled over, careful not to get the blankets wet with the washcloth, and rest his head on your chest.

“For you, baby.” His long fingers gingerly lay the cool cloth on your forehead, easing the headache you were having. “What do you say to a few more hours of sleep?” He asked, listening to your heartbeat. Your hands slowly ran through his hair. 

“Sounds pretty damn great.”

Yeosang:

The last you had heard from Yeosang was the ten drunk voicemails he left in your inbox. You called the boys’ manager and made sure that they got home safely. A few minutes ago you received a text from Hongjoong saying all the boys were now up (at two in the afternoon). Hopping in your car, you drove over to their dorm. 

“Knock knock?” You entered the dorm knowing most of the boys would be like zombies. Just as you predicted several of the boys were strewn out in the mostly still dark apartment. The second you opened the blinds they yelped, still sensitive to the light. “Where’s Yeosang?” You asked between laughs.

Mingi groaned from the couch and gestured to the kitchen. There you saw Yeosang attempting to stir something in a pot. He got tired halfway through the motion and rested his head on the counter. Quietly, you took off your coat and approached him from behind. Your boyfriend jumped almost a full foot in the air when you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Y/n? When did you get here, honey?” 

Yeosang abandoned the pot for you, choosing instead to nuzzle his head in your neck. “Just a few minutes ago.” He pulled you into a soft hug, breathing in the scent of your perfume. “So how much and what did you drink last night?” You asked with a laugh. He pulled away and drowsily looked you in the eyes. 

“Ummmm....I remember lots of soju....then San made us do tequila shots.” Out of habit you pushed his soft hair out of his face as he spoke. He leaned into your hand like a moth drawn to light. 

Reaching up, you felt his forehead. “Aww baby. You’ve got a little bit of a fever.” He nodded reattaching his head to the crook of your neck. Normally Yeosang was the opposite of clingy. He was shy and preferred to not flaunt his affection for you. “You want me to finish making your food, Sangie?” He pouted with a nod and shuffled so he was behind you. Picking up where he left off you began to finish his meal.

“More spice please.” He asked cutely pressing a kiss to your neck. 

San:

Sweet, sweet karma. What did you do to deserve this? You thought with a grin. Everytime you had a hangover San was the first to unleash all hell at you. He played loud music in the morning. He “dropped” pans while making breakfast. But worst of all....without fail, he dragged you to the gym and made you work out with him. He claimed it was the best cure for a hangover. 

Now here he lay, still completely knocked out from the night before. Your boyfriend’s legs were tangled in the sheets and his arms were wrapped tightly around a pillow, a sad replacement for your body. “Sweet revenge, you are mine.” Swiftly you kicked San’s leg only earning a groan from the man. “San,” you sang.

“What.” The man said lifting his head up and glaring at your smiling face. 

“Did you have a little too much fun last night, baby?”

“No.” He simply hugged the pillow tighter and attempted to go back to sleep. 

San flinched, grabbing his head as you slammed down his favorite sneakers on the nightstand. “You what the best cure for a hangover is?” Knowing he wasn’t going to answer you yanked the blankets away. San whined and groaned like a little child. “A workout.”

“NO!”

Depsite his protests, like your boyfriend had done to you many times, you now dragged him to the gym and forced him through a seemingly endless exercise routine. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight beside you. San looked terrible as he struggled to keep up with your pace on the treadmill. “You good to keep going?” He glared knowing it was not a question but his face quickly changed. 

“Fuck- I’m gonna be sick.”

Jumping off the machine, San sprinted to the gym’s bathrooms, most likely to wrench his guts out. Emerging, San wiped his mouth and looked at you with a guilty smile. “What are you never ever going to do again?”

“I will never make you work out with a hangover.”

“Good,” Laughing you watched his face twist embarrassment. Regardless, he leaned down capturing your lips in a kiss. You curled away, shivering. “Okay, I love you but no more kisses until you’ve brushed your teeth and showered.”

Mingi:

Your head was pounding. Thankfully your bedroom was still dark except for the small source of light emitting from your boyfriend’s phone. “Mingi?” The boy turned hearing his name. His head was resting against the head board, colored hair sticking up in random places. 

Little blue rectangles reflected the screen of his phone in his glasses. “Hi, baby,” He mumbled, voice still raw. Like the big baby he was, Mingi rolled over ontop of you, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“What time is it?”

“Early....but late....but also early...”

“Mingi are you still drunk from last night?” He shook his head, nuzzling into your neck. He was unquestionably still drunk. The boys had roped you into their crazy antics which resulted in you and Mingi drunkenly stumbling into a cab back to your apartment. Mingi did have.....a lot...to drink. Way more than you. 

“Lemme get the curtains.” With a goofy smile, Mingi pecked your lips before his tall form wobbled over to the covered window. Pulling back the curtains he gasped and turned to you cutely. “Babe!” You snorted at your cute, still  tipsy, boyfriend. “Shit! It’s dark outside! Did we sleep the whole day?” 

Laughing, you checked your phone. “Mingi, it’s just raining. It’s only 10:00 AM.” Feeling the effects of your growing hangover you snuggled back under the covers. “Babyyyyy, come back to bed.” You whined watching Mingi mess with something on his phone.

“Noooo! I’m up! Oh my god! Y/n! Let’s dance!” 

Mingi began playing a loud sound on his phone and dancing over the foot of the bed. “Baby.....you’re still drunk.” He shook his head and began singing the lyrics quite loudly. Headache spiking, you covered your ears.

Launching the nearest pillow at him quickly shut your boyfriend up. “Why did you do that?” He asked with a pout. 

“Aww bub...come back to bed.” Finally obliging, Mingi crawled back into your arms and the two of you slept off the remaining effects of alcohol. 

Wooyoung:

You awoke to heavenly smells of something good floating from your kitchen. Squinting at the bright light in your room you sat up and turned to see Wooyoung’s side of the bed cold and empty. 

“Woo?”

Your throat was dry and scratchy as you called out to your boyfriend. It shocked you to see your usually stoic and sarcastic boyfriend rush into the room, spoon in hand. “You’re awake?” He asked quietly. You groaned as Wooyoung pounced on top of you in a bear hug. “How bad is your hangover?” He asked kissing all over your face. 

“Very bad.”

“Well, you did try to drink San under the table.”

Your eyebrow quirked up and Wooyoung laughed at your sleepy face. “The question is....did I win?” He laughed even more before nodding. “Then I deem this hangover- ‘worth it’.”Gently, Wooyoung tucked his hands under your legs and lifted you up.

You were glad your sore muscles didn’t have to move much as your newly doting boyfriend carried you into the kitchen, even setting you down on a stool at the counter. This was a new side of Wooyoung you hadn’t seen. 

“Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?”

“Hangover soup just for you, love.”

You watched him cut the remaining vegetables and ingredients with expert skill and slide them across the cutting board and into the pot. Watching Wooyoung move around the kitchen like it was second nature sent a warm bubbly feeling to your chest and stomach. “Were you always this domestic?” You asked resting your chin against your palm.

A light layer of sweat rested on his forehead, pieces of black hair clinging to the skin. The steam from the pot after up onto his handsome face.  “Does it turn you on?” He answered wiggling his eyebrows.

“And there is my horny, evil, chaotic Wooyoung.” 

The corner of his lips lifted up in a smile as he ladled the warm homemade soup into bowls. Setting yours in front of you with a kiss on the cheek he encouraged you to eat. “You love me all the same.”

“Yes. Thank you for taking care of me,” A smile filled your face as you tried some of the soup, Wooyoung anxiously awaiting your opinion. You nodded eagerly and quickly ate the rest of the bowl, feeling better by the second. 

Jongho:

“Never again. Never again will I drink.”

The phrase left your lips like a mantra as you rolled around in bed. The room was dark, blinds drawn and your head stuffed under the covers. Your whole body was sore and your head was throbbing. “Oh...shit....here it comes.” You cried feeling the contents of your stomach begin to crawl up your throat. 

Rushing to the bathroom you hurled into the white porcelain bowl. You hated throwing up. Not being able to stand the vile taste in your mouth, you immediately brushed your teeth. Grabbing your phone on the way back to the warmth and comfort of your bed, you unlocked it and winced at the harsh blue light.

Pressing the device to your ear, you listened to the dial tone and awaited the sweet sound of your boyfriend’s voice. “Hi my baby!” Jongho greeted in English. Despite the piercing volume of his voice, you couldn't help but grin. How was it possible you were dating the cutest man on the entire planet. “Say hi to Atiny!” Nevermind. He was no longer cute. He put you on speaker phone. 

“Hi, Atiny! Jongho, darling, take me off speaker for a sec.” 

He hummed in response. “Did you just wake up? When I left you last night you tried to get me to dance the Harlem Shake with you.” You covered your face in embarrassment. You and Jongho and gone out last night and you may have had way too much to drink. 

“What time is it?”

“Like.....4 pm.”

“OH MY GOD!”

Jongho’s laugh was like music to your ears. “Should I come over later? I’m done about seven-ish.” Groaning you rolled over, struggling against the urge to vomit again. “Is that a no groan, a yes groan, or I’m too hungover to speak groan?”

“You said seven? Could you bring medicine..........and pizza.....yeah. Lots of pizza.”

“So pizza, meds, anything else?”

“Nope! I love youuuu!”

Jongho chuckled over the phone. “I love you too, baby. See you later,”

Masterlist

[astranva]

Daffodil

Word Count: 3.1k

Category: Angst

Warning: Some strong language.

Inspired by lines from Lana Del Rey’s excerpt from her poetry book – ‘L.A, Who Am I To Love You?’

“And also I can't sleep without you No one's ever really held me like you Not quite tightly, but certainly I feel your body next to me.”

Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.

 It was suffocating.

Oxygen wasn’t always an ally, at least not there and then for Harry. He had changed t-shirts 4 times after each one got soaked with his own sweat, before finally resorting to taking a shower.

His body felt limp, like it was on auto-pilot mode and he wasn’t in control of it, only watching as his legs dragged him to the room he tried to avoid if it was anything of no necessity.

He remembers a time when he loved the full-body mirror that stood in the room. He remembers the amount of pictures that one mirror caught, the amount of kisses it had witnessed. But as he passed, his stomach flipped upside now.

He had been avoiding seeing his face for far too long, could go as far and say that he hadn’t seen himself since it happened, a month ago.

But he caught a glimpse of himself and he couldn’t help but divert all his attention to the reflection that stared back at him. His hair was greasy, red blotches on his cheeks that seemed to mock him for crying too much for his skin’s own liking, puffy eyes, dry lips that reminded him that the alcohol he sipped at wasn’t what his body needed and that it needed water. He looked…pathetically sad.

But he was okay with it, being sad. Of course he was, how couldn’t he?

He looked dull – dead. Harry grimaced at the sight, his heart seeming to break and shatter even more – if possible – at the sight, feeling as if he couldn’t really recognize himself.

He took a shaky breath, tearing his gaze away from the reflection before moving along with the simple task; showering.

He hadn’t bothered taking out clothes prior to stepping inside the bathroom, wanting to just get it over with.

Harry took off his t-shirt and boxers, throwing them in the hamper before his eyes caught sight of it. Her toothbrush.

His mind was loud, screaming at him to keep his hands to himself, to get his shit together and maybe throw the damn brush away but he shut that off, reaching to grab the vibrant green toothbrush with rough bristles, as if confirming the absence of its owner.

“Fuck,” he cursed, feeling his nose itch before he set the toothbrush back in its rightful place, right beside the hair cream she used to use.

It probably didn’t help that he used her minty shampoo and coconut shower gel, mindlessly doing so. He hated how dependent he was on her, even when she wasn’t there but he didn’t know any better and he didn’t want to.

Harry’s shower was quick, as if he was in hurry to get out of the place that held so much of her belongings. The cold water didn’t soothe his muscles either, it only tensed them more, making him shower with a clenched jaw as he struggled to get used to the cold temperature – it was too cold and he fucking hated how it made sense.

It was all too cold.

Without her.

He had dried his body quickly before reaching towards the cabinet underneath the sink to take out the microfiber towel which she had gotten him,

“The material just causes lack of friction, know what that means? Less frizz. It also dries your hair faster than the cotton ones.” She had said as she dried his hair one night after her trip from the grocery store, the pink microfiber in her hand thoroughly drying Harry’s wet hair before she began scrunching some of the long lockets of hair.

He loved the towel.

He loves her.

Walking naked and barefoot, he opened the wardrobe, taking out a pair of shorts and resting them on his shoulder before opening a drawer to take out briefs. Harry contemplated wearing a top at all, but then reached to grab one – the one right on top.

Hers.

His movement halted as he felt the material in his hand, looking at the familiar watermelon-printed t-shirt.

“H!” She ran to him the moment he stepped inside their home, a wide grin on her face as she looked at his amused face. How couldn’t he be? She was standing in a watermelon-printed t-shirt and Toy Story-themed shorts. “Look what I got!”

It was that damn t-shirt and the love they made that night that had him write Watermelon Sugar.

That t-shirt.

His chest seemed to clench around his heart, almost begging him to put the t-shirt away, and that time, he listened and folded the t-shirt and put it behind his pile of t-shirts, nonchalantly grabbing another t-shirt before speeding out of the room to put on his clothes somewhere else.

Harry wasn’t stupid, but at times like these, he really thought he was.

He was stupid enough to think that it was the room he could escape when in fact, she was implemented in every little nook, every cushion – everywhere. Hell, even the coaster he had put his cup of tea on in the morning was one she had gotten.

After putting his clothes on, he walked to the kitchen. Surprisingly, he found his phone on the kitchen table, lit up as it released no sound and he was more amused by the fact that he had forgotten he placed it there.

‘Gem’ the screen had read, showing him a picture of him and his sister from when they were kids.

Harry debated picking up the phone. They all had been checking up on him, almost pleading to visit him but he was set every single time;

“I want to be alone.” He had said, every time.

He knew they were concerned, knew they cared about him but he couldn’t not cringe and grow even more melancholic when he heard the pity in their voices and, worse, he knew that in their minds, they probably called him a few names;

Pathetic.

Coward.

Dick.

He knew they probably liked the state he was in because after all, it was all his fault.

He gulped, taking his phone in his hand before answering, putting the phone on his ear and waiting for his sister to speak first.

“Harry? You here?”

He hummed, “Yeah.” His voice came out hoarse and scratchy, making him clear his throat.

Gemma sighed through the phone and he wasn’t sure what type of sigh was that, but it seemed to be as one of relief. He really needed to assure them more often.

“How are you?”

Harry had begun to hate the question. He didn’t like lying, but how could he reply with the same miserable answer every time? If you wanted an honest answer, he would give you one that went like that:

“Never been worse. I’m sad, I’m hallow. I think I need therapy but I know I need her more. I miss her but I’m a fucking dick.”

But he didn’t settle on that one for Gemma, no. Instead, Harry moved to fill the kettle with water while balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder, and gave her an answer anyone would want to hear,

“’M fine. How are you?”

But Gemma wasn’t just anyone. She wasn’t a distant relative nor was she a friend he hung out with every other year – she was his sister and she knew him better than that.

“You can be honest, you know?” She reminded him, “I understand.”

It assured him, really. Not enough to make him smile, but it felt somewhat nice but nonetheless, he hummed.

So, Gemma went on, “I want to head to the flower market, what do you say about joining me?”

Harry’s movement halted, standing straight and holding his phone with his hand, “Which?”

She was glad he didn’t decline right away, but knew she still had to choose the right cards to play. “Columbia Road’s.”

“Th-I-That’s one of her favorite places.” He commented.

“What are the odds that she would be there, Harry?”

“Yeah, what if she was, Gemma? I-I can’t, ‘m sorry.” He shook his head, feeling anxious at just the mere possibility of seeing her.

“Please,” Gemma said gently, “You love that place.”

Because of her, he wanted to say. It was her who made him love that place despite the amount of people with their phones out, taking picture after picture of the flowers instead of actually buying or learning about them.

“I’m telling you; some people spend so much money on carnations and boast about their blue colors, but they always have no idea that they’re actually dyed.” She had told him once as they strolled through the market, hand in hand.

Gemma knew she was making a risky move, but she took her chances. “What if you see her? What happens if you do?”

Harry’s heart dropped, his palms got sweaty and millions of scenarios raced in his head.

Gemma knew he had heard her, but she wanted an answer, whatever it could be. “Harry?”

“She hates me,” He began, rubbing his hairline in distress as he felt his eyes grow tearful, “I-I can’t see her and see the amount of hate she has for me. It’s already killing me, Gem, I can’t.”

“But she doesn’t,” Gemma said, hearing him sigh in annoyance, “No, you listen to me. You’re feeding yourself bullshit and you’re forcing yourself to believe it. Did she say that? Did she tell you that she hates you?”

“She fucking implied it!” Harry shouted, “She said she regrets falling in love with me, what does that sound like, for fuck’s sake?!”

“Sounds like disappointment to me, Harry!” Gemma exclaimed, growing frustrated with how thick her brother could be. And to be honest, she was getting tired of tiptoeing around the truth – one he needed to hear. “Sounds like she was hurt that the one person she trusted and loved for years decided to tell her one day that she couldn’t fit in his life and he couldn’t fit in hers! Sounds like she was hurt to me, Harry, especially because she didn’t expect you to break up with her, no one did!”

That was the last straw for him. Harry’s tears fell, plopping himself down on one of the kitchen chairs, burying his face in his hand as he cried.

Gemma’s heart broke at the sobs she heard through the phone, but she knew he needed it. “You have been scared to see her, to talk to her since the moment she walked out of that door, Harry, but till when? It’s not doing either of you any good.”

Harry sniffled, “D-Did y-you talk to her? Know anything about her?”

“Yeah,” she said sadly, “She’s not okay.”

Another wave of tears hit him, shaking his head at himself.

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He repeated to himself, over and over.

“I’ll pick you up in 10. I was already on my way before calling you.”

Harry gave her no response except for a sniffle.

“Harry?”

He hummed in question.

“I love you, alright? I’ll help you fix this.”

---

Harry wasn’t lying when he said the flower market was all about her.

Without her by his side, it seemed like all flowers lost their beautiful blooming colors, devoid of the saturation. It seemed like his mind loved playing tricks on him so much that it refused to make him smell anything but her scent, even when surrounded by dozens and dozens of petals.

A pair of sunglasses hid his puffy and red eyes, and he hadn’t bothered to change out of the sweat shorts and t-shirt, only put on a pair of socks and jogging shoes.

Gemma was beside him, walking quietly with a pair of her own sunglasses perched on her nose, her arm linked with his.

She dragged him to one vendor, checking the flowers and bouquets before pointing at pretty, blue carnations. “Look at these, they look beautiful, don’t they?” She asked her brother.

“They’re dyed.” Harry had instantly replied, Gemma more surprised by the fact that he talked than by the statement.

“Ah, you know a secret,” The vendor smiled at Harry, “You read a lot?”

“My girlfriend d-“ He paused at his slip, feeling Gemma give him an assuring squeeze on his bicep, “Someone once told me that.”

“Better hold on to them, not everyone is interested enough to learn about stuff like that nowadays.”

Harry felt bitter, like he wanted to tell the man to shut up and ask him if he knew anything about what happened, ask him if he was mocking him, but he knew that that was his mind playing another goddamn trick on him.

He was getting sick of the tricks and the amount of times his mind mocked his state, because when he turned his head away from the man and spotted her, he wanted nothing more than to have a one-on-one fight with his mind.

His jaw dropped, his green eyes widened from beneath his sunglasses, and he felt like he no longer was in an open-air place.

There she stood, in flared jeans, a half-sleeved shirt and eyes hidden beneath a pair of Seven Wonders sunglasses that Gemma had gifted her when she launched her brand. In her hands was one single yellow daffodil, holding it gently and with care, reminding Harry of the days and nights when she would hold him, exactly as a flower.

“Ha-“ Gemma stopped, following his gaze before her eyebrows shot up. She couldn’t say she was very surprised, because she knew how much Sundays at the flower market meant to her friend and brother’s ex.

Gemma also knew it was the first time since the breakup that Y/N visited the place and she couldn’t be any happier for her friend for kicking herself out of the bed and to the one place she enjoyed being at.

Y/N seemed oblivious to the Styles siblings’ fixed gaze on her, carrying herself with grace despite the ache in her heart and the memories that clouded her mind with that one special someone – someone who was standing nearby.

Time seemed to go slow, as if someone had added a slo-mo effect. She had turned, and she was going to miss him if it weren’t for her double taking.

The daffodil almost dropped from her hands, and her knees almost gave out on her.

As if she was pulling the leash on her heart, she turned away quickly before beginning to walk away in big steps, Harry’s heart aching.

“Go!” Gemma urged him, “Fucking go after you, you shit!” She pushed his back.

“I-“ Harry shook his head at his sister, not being able to tear his eyes away from Y/N’s figure as she walked among the crowd, leaning to the side as to not lose sight of her.

“You can, Harry!” She groaned, before tugging on his arm, making him look at her stern face, “It’s now or never, Harry. Your call.”

More often than not, Harry was thankful and grateful for his older sister; like when she took him sightseeing in London for the first time when he was 16 during the boot camp stage of The X-Factor, or when she would help him with his science and English coursework back when he was at school as a kid.

Like that moment, as he ran after his love.

It was easy to spot her. It was easy to run towards her.

Reaching her, Harry gently held her elbow, halting her movement before she turned, and fuck, 

what now?

He expected her to shout at him, tell him that she wanted nothing to do with him but she was quiet, looking up at him as she waited and Harry didn’t know whether he was thankful or despised the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes – was she glaring at him? Was she not?

He opened his mouth before closing it again, slowly removing his hand from her arm, unaware to her longing for his touch.

“Say anything, Harry, dammit.” She almost pleaded, pushing her weight to her right leg and – finally – putting her glasses on top of her head.

Harry definitely wished she kept them on.

Because the moment he saw her puffy eyes, clearly from crying, he wanted nothing but to cry out himself.

As if to assure her though, Harry mirrored her and placed his own on top of his head, letting her see how the eyes she adored so much, the color she decided was her favorite, was hidden beneath the puffiness and red.

“I don’t know what to say, fuck me,” he cringed at himself, reaching up to aggressively rub his eyes with his palms as to calm himself.

But then she gave him that look, that one look she gave him before walking out of the door a month ago – she was disappointed.

She shook her head at him, eyes judging him. “Forget it.” She was about to turn again when he, again, held her, but that time, Harry’s hand reached for hers.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted.

God, what exactly was he sorry for? What exactly was he apologizing for? Kissing her one moment then breaking up with her the other? Not calling her? Standing in front of her and being a coward?

But she had always been patient with him, and as much as her friends advised her against, she was still patient with him that moment.

“I can’t read your mind.” She said gently, stepping closer to him and looking him directly in the eyes, searching them. “Use your words.”

“I can’t do this without you,” Harry’s tone matched hers, staring down at her and stealing a glance at her lips before going back to her eyes, “I was- No, I am a dick. I’m an idiot. It’s taken me too long because I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry and,” he shook his head, “But I am. I fucking hate myself for letting you leave, for saying the bullshit I said, for- for disappointing you,” he gulped down the tears that threatened to fall,

“I can’t sleep without you. Can’t eat, can’t function like a normal fucking human without you and I am to blame.”

Y/N listened, eyes getting glossy before she took a breath in, gulping as she tore eye contact before looking back at him, “Would you have said all that if you hadn’t seen me here?”

Harry stared at her a moment.

“Would you have called me? Visited?” One single tear betrayed her and fell, “Because I waited for you, all damn month.”

Before he was even aware, Harry nodded, taking the risk to reach forward and cup her face in his hands, watching as she closed her eyes at the feeling. “I would have.”

“I can’t-” She let out a sob, looking up at him with an almost childish frown, “I can’t afford having my heart broken by you again, Harry, because it fucking sucked.”

His breath hitched in his throat but it didn’t stop him from pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her, hiding his face in her hair, his senses waking at the whiff of her shampoo.

“Never again.”

Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: I sincerely apologize for the pain caused with last chapter...so naturally, i had to go and write more pain muahaha. i also apologize for the wait on this one, for some reason i had a weirdly hard time getting this one out of my head, ahhh i think I’m just lil sad about it all ending :( but! we’re almost out of the woods cuties!! thank you so very much reading as always!! <3 this is the second to last chapter and idk how to feel ahhhh 

Part 7 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, some kissin’ and that good, good makin’ out, soft n’ intimate body touchinggg, mentions of getting drunk in the past, mentions of a toxic familial relationship, gahhh lots of crying and emotions in this one but it’s bc we’re figuring things out :) 

CW: dub-con-ish scene due to conflicting feelings but it gets stopped pretty quick

Word count: 7.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART ? 

Jisung shared his apartment with two equally messy boys. You had forgotten their names despite meeting them and seeing them around on more than one occasion. Lucky for you, they each had distinguishing features so you named them as such: tall one and younger one with white hair. Once upon a time the four of you had hung out and they weren’t unbearable, just a bit cookie-cutter as you had called it. Both of them were in the same music school as Jisung and didn’t have many other interests outside going to music shows and playing PC games while loudly shouting. 

There was never food in that apartment but somehow there was always dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sure, it smelled a bit like dirty socks, but you never paid too much attention to that when you would clambering in the door with your lips locked with Jisung’s. It was strange walking in not doing so. Tall one and younger one with the white hair sat on the couch eating pizza with feet kicked up on their banged up coffee table. They didn’t say anything as they watched you walk in, but merely rolled their eyes and pretended that you weren’t there anymore. 

“We can go to my room.” Jisung raked his hand through his greasy brown strands, then kicked aside approximately ten pairs of sneakers. He held onto your hand tightly--so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

You nearly slipped on that rug that lined the wooden floors of their hallway. It wasn’t the first time. 

Just as the rest of the apartment was, Jisung’s room was strewn with all kinds of random articles such as dirty clothes, tangled up cords and old to-go containers. His bed was unmade; it was those navy sheets that likely hadn’t been washed in several weeks. You could never really pinpoint what they smelled like, just that they smelled like him. You had spent nights there too, but they were nothing memorable. No groggy mornings with coffee or sunlight streaked onto his features for you to admire in the golden sheen. It had been running late to class and the dozens of times that you had left jewelry and hair-ties. 

“Wanna sit down?” Jisung patted the spot next to him, and you did so. 

The two of you sat in silence, the atmosphere became thick with the tangible sense of disaster that hung around the both of you. It was catastrophic.

His trembling hand came reaching for yours, and you let him take it. He sniffled, and it triggered your eyes to fill with the same hot tears. 

For the first time, you wondered, what am I doing here? 

“You want to lay down?” His puffy eyes asked you. 

You nodded, crinkling those bedsheets that were probably full of dust. 

In all your months of knowing him, you had never, never cuddled. This was the first time and you really weren’t even tied together anymore. 

His nose had turned pink, and he rubbed a bit of snot away with his wrist. 

“Thank you for coming here.” Jisung whispered. “But--what are you doing here? I thought that you were with Changbin now?” 

I am. You thought briefly. Am I? 

“I just...so confused right now. I don’t know...there’s just...I don’t know...” 

A tear fell down Jisung’s cheek, and you couldn’t fathom why he would be the one crying when it should’ve been you. You wiped it away. You had never thought of it before, but seeing him cry brought a sting to your chest. 

Jisung leaned forward, and the bed creaked lightly, then he kissed you. It wasn’t really a passionate one, but one that he had used to say more than he could himself. His lips tasted salty running over yours, and your brain froze deciding what to do. Jisung never changed: as broken as it felt, he was still starving, needy, and rough. You tried to find meaning in it, or if it made you feel. 

It didn’t. 

Jisung held your face in his hands, and with a hesitant sigh, he said, “I really, really wanted to do that for so long.” 

As desperate he had seemed for you, you couldn’t find the same desire if you had tried. Maybe, you had to find it? 

“Kiss me again.” You hushed. 

He licked his lips with a gaze softening. “Okay.” 

This time he swung his legs around your hips and straddled you with the kind of pressure that you had craved, once upon a time. He bent down to press even more of his heated desire on your skin. He was a good kisser, and you remembered once again how you really had wanted to have him kiss you like this, once upon a time. His tongue slicked against your bottom lip and you gave him the permission, testing it out just to see. 

You had thought back then that he was unreal. 

Jisung rutted his hips down into your waist, and you had already felt how he had hardened in his sweatpants. 

You knew how it would go...or how it used to.

“Baby, I want you so bad. You have no idea. I-I don’t think that I want anyone else besides you--” He broke to meet your eyes. Your world blurred, and sobbed out from under his gaze. 

What am I doing here? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Worry flooded over his face. 

“I-I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, fuck--what the fuck am I doing?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Please just...get off of me. Please...” 

He did so, but still looked just as shocked. “Did I do something wrong?” 

He too started to tear up again. At last you could finally name what it was that tugged at his soft brown eyes. Fear. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong? Y/n, I don’t understand, you’re confusing me so much--” 

“--This isn’t right Jisung!” You nearly yelled with broken sobs. “We aren’t right.” 

Jisung’s face fell, crestfallen. “N-no--” 

“--We destroy each other!! Don’t you see?? Never have we ever been happy together, we’re just...coping! That isn’t love!!” 

“Then why the hell am I in love with you??” Jisung spat out the words, and then it was immediately evident that he had regretted saying them. 

A deadly silence fell over the room, and all that was left was the both of your weak sniffles. 

“What did you just say?” 

Jisung grabbed one the pillows then threw it down on the floor with a poof. 

“Fuck!!!” He literally shouted. His face had turned red, and snot dripped down to his lip. “I have fucking feelings for you okay?? Is that enough for you?” 

“Ji...yo-you can’t--” 

“I can’t what?! Is it a fucking crime? Listen, I’m scared out of my fucking mind saying this to you, alright? I don’t know why the hell I am but--” 

“--We-we can’t, Jisung..” 

“Can’t what?!” He threw his hands up into he air in his exasperation. “Stop fucking confusing me!!” 

“We destroy eachother.” 

Jisung grabbed another pillow to pummel to the ground, but then stopped himself, digging his fingers into the fabric until his nailbeds turned white. 

“We hurt eachother too much. An-and...I don’t think that it’s really our fault either. It’s just...who we are. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I want.” 

Jisung sobbed out horribly, then buried his face in his hands. 

“But I fell in love with you...?” His voice was terribly cracked. 

You watched as tears dropped into your lap and made little wet dots on your jeans. “I fell in love with Changbin...” 

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but still glistened, like the way that oil would slick in rainbows with the snow. 

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked one more time, but now he had appeared to be utterly broken. 

You rose from the bed, looking down at him and drying your face. “I...think I know why.” 

“And?” 

Outside of Jisung’s window, the view was similar to your own: city lights in an array of colors; each of them like stars on the ocean. On the wall adjacent from his bed, you noticed there was a crack. You had never realized that it was there before. 

“I’m admitting something that I should’ve a long time ago.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You had likely forgotten to close a window in your apartment somewhere because the winter cold had pervaded the whole space. It took you about ten minutes to realize that it was in your bathroom from when you had taken a shower earlier to air let out the steam. 

The second thing that you noticed was the crumpled up blanket resting on the couch from before. For some odd reason, you felt the strong desire to wrap it all around yourself like you could capture some essence of him in it. Sure enough it did smell like that scent of his that you had grown so used to. You let the blanket trail behind you has you made your way to your room to pull on one of his shirts over your head. 

“Who told you that you could look so cute in that?” He had said one time. 

[23:16] Bin

me: can i call you? 

[00:18] Bin 

me: if you’re asleep, can I call you in the morning? if that’s okay? i said things that I didn’t mean...i just didn’t know it then. 

i’m so sorry 

how i treated you...you didn’t deserve that 

i understand if you’re mad at me. you have every right. 

i’m sorry that i couldn’t see that things that you were trying to show me. 

i see them now. 

You had thought that now the snow had finally faded into the edge of the winter that near it’s conclusion. Early March, and you wanting nothing more for spring buds to peep from the snow capped floral beds on street corners and for the white hugging the trees to dissapear forever. The winter had felt as if it had lasted for a year--even though this year you had seen less snow than other years. 

There had been a time when you firmly believed that once the snow melted, it would get better. Snow was a bitter memory, and it was curse that had to happen each and every year. 

The night that you had met Changbin, it had been cold. Cold like the winter that you had tried to hide from. You hadn’t thought of it until now, but he was much like the way that snowflakes melted on your skin. It reminded you of the icy coldness of the world for fleeting moments, then faded just as quickly as it arrived. The little wet mark of him warmed on your skin. 

Outside of the miniscule window to your living room, snowflakes got caught up in the edges of the frame, and sprinkled the surface of the glass in their variety of gorgeous fractals and unique shapes. A full moon was painted into the sky with a brightness that could’ve paralleled the sun on this clear night swimming in deep azure. 

You hugged the fabric of one of his shirts even closer to your frame, pretending for a moment that it was him that had been hugging you and not the cotton. 

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out weakly to the empty room. 

Your phone screen flashed with the time: [00:42]. You wondered, maybe he really had given up like he said that he would’ve. Maybe he walked home in the shivering cold, hands shoved into his pockets and decided that he was done waiting; that you weren’t worth his time and the effort. Maybe he walked in his front door, closed it behind himself, and said the words, This is it. No more. Maybe he walked into his room and cried. Maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t decide if you had wanted him to cry for you or not. Both hurt. 

[01:13.]  

Your eyes dragged with sleep, but your mind moved faster than the pace of your dry eyelids. Dust had settled on the white sheet that you had drawn over the painting in your room. On the underside of the sheet, globs of acrylic had dried and turned into multicolored flecks: a bit like the sheet was a piece of art and and of itself. It was nearly finished, and only had about one more quadrant left that was void of color. 

Your wooden pallet had been resting by the window, so it was cold to the touch--as were the little aluminum bottles of paint resting beside it. You used your shirtsleeve to dry away one tear that had battled its way to your lid, then sat back on your desk chair, facing the easel head on. 

Black first. Then deep blue, then bright yellow, burnt orange and gold. 

Hairs brushed over the canvas, and swept in wide strokes back and forth. With an empty mind, you smeared over the dark colors that faded to the edge of the canvas into the glowing light of the edge of the alleyway painted here. His figure was prominent, even though you couldn’t see his face. He wore black clothes that were simple. Frankly, you didn’t really remember what he had worn that night, but it didn’t matter much. Neon blue and red restaurant signs met on as reflection on his dark black hair. 

It was as if your chest and hand had been weighted down even further, but you fought through it to raise them. While you let the tears fall at first, they dried after long and made the skin of your cheeks tout. The room was silent, and so it was outside with the drifting snow. Soon, the painting would be finished, and you could sleep. You couldn’t sleep until then. 

if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it? 

The pink lights lining your room provided the only light to the room, however not much else was needed than that. 

You bit your lip, now mixing yellow with red. 

If you couldn’t tell him. You hoped with every fiber that this would. 

[04:51] Bin 

me: if you’re up to it, can we talk? or, i can call you? 

goodnight  

wait its morning 

good morning then. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chan was good at keeping his promises. There was not one time in your whole time in knowing him that he hadn’t kept a promise, no matter how absurd it might’ve been. He had promised you to buy you ice cream on the first day of snow, and he had promised to share his lyrics with you, no matter how much they would make him cringe. He promised that if you ever needed someone to watch your guilty pleasure reality shows with, he would be over as soon as he could. Next to Felix, you had figured a long time ago that if there were ever people in your life that you were destined to meet, he was one of them. Admittedly, there had been a time when you had harbored a crush on him, but as usual, you had been best at getting in your own way before anything could’ve happened. This, and you loved him as a friend too much. 

Too many jell-o shots were both of your enemies. Halfway into the driest seven minutes in heaven of your life, and halfway into your confession to him, he had passed out right in your arms. You were lucky that he had forgotten the event entirely. Or, he was keeping his promise that you had hurriedly made asking him to forget that it ever happened when you and Felix carted him out of there. 

While he was good at keeping promises, you more so wished that he had forgotten that one. 

Chan had promised that he would personally use his ID card to get into the soundproof booth in the music department to scream. 

You hadn’t ever taken him up on the offer until today. 

It was nearly midnight and unopened text messages still sat in in empty bubbles on your phone screen. 

Even though you had consistently texted “good morning” and “goodnight” for three days straight, the action of sending them didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chan didn’t ask any questions, but merely let you through the halls which echoed from your squeaking wet shoes. The green light of emergency signs appeared to be the only guiding lights, but Chan knew the way well. 

“Careful. The floor is slippery. They mop after everyone leaves.” He hushed in the silent hallway. 

Your fingers and lips cracked from the cold and felt tingly warming up in the dry heat of the building. The two of you turned two more corners, then Chan carefully wrapped his veiny and red hand over the handle to the door marked with “Studio Five.” He tapped his key to the reader, and it beeped with flashing green and orange lights. 

“Here. This is the entrance to the booth. I’ll enter from that door to get to the other side of the glass. You don’t...want me to go in with you?” 

“Want me to wreck your ears?” You have him a feeble smile. 

He mustered his own kind of strength that he had been keeping up just for you. “Hm. You’re right.” Your friend clicked on the light, and it burned your eyes at first compared to the black hall. “Take...all the time that you need, I’ll just be over there. If you wanna...talk about things, I’m here for that too.” 

The booth was an ugly shade of lime green, and you wondered how anyone could ever be creative in a place such as this. On the other side of the tinted glass, you watched as Chan flicked on the light, then made his way to push the button to the little intercom system. His voice buzzed with a tinny sound. 

“No one can hear you, so....go nuts.” 

The walls were too padded with black foam insulation, and for a moment you considered how strange it was, that you, had entered that place to scream--not make music like the room had been used to. Even though the walls were lime green. It still brought a sense of sadness to your chest. 

The room spun lightly behind your eyes, and you panted out frantically. 

What the hell am I doing in here? 

[23:29] bin 

me: I hope that you sleep well tonight. i’m thinking of you. 

“Is everything okay in here?” Chan’s voice said over the speakers. 

“W-what am I doing here?” You repeated the question, feeling panic rise up your throat. 

“Getting your anger out?” He tiled his head. “I-I don’t know why else because you didn’t tell me. You angry at someone? Something?” 

“N-no? --I mean, yes...I-I don’t know.” You said with uncertainty. Suddenly the foam walls of the room started to close in. “I need to get out of here.” 

“Woah! Woah! Y/n! What’s--” Chan chased you out of the room, back into the empty hallway with the squeaky floors and the green light. 

“Hey, let’s just...take a breather here for a sec.” Your friend reached out to smooth down your arms. “If you wanna talk about it, I can help maybe?” 

You tore from his gasp, then slumped against the wall to slide all the way down and sit on the cold linoleum floors with the heaters pumping steadily above your head. 

“He’s not...messaging me back, and I think that I royally fucked up this time. I think that I finally did it, I finally pushed him too far.” 

“Who? Changbin?” Chan crouched down to sit next to you. “Is that what this is about?” 

Shallow breaths filled up your lungs, “I think...I think I just lost everything that I could’ve had with him, and it’s all my fault...I’m fucking angry at myself, Chan.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“I basically told him that I didn’t know if I wanted to be his girlfriend...after everything that’s happened, everything that he’s done and how patient he’s been...but...there was Jisung an-and...I realize that I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I want to be with him so fucking badly and I was just too caught up to see it and--” 

“--Stop!” Chan barked. “Stop and give yourself a second to breathe! Did you realize that you’re not doing that? 

You hadn’t. Nor had your noticed your shaking hands. However, Chan had seen them, and held them with his. 

“You said that you do want to be with him but you told him that you didn’t?” 

Somewhere in the hallway, one of the emergency floodlights blinked with a harsh white light. 

“Yes.” 

“And did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?” 

“I have but he hasn’t gotten back to me? He would always get back to me, no matter what it was--it makes me worry--” 

Chan cupped your hands then brought them to his chest where he held them earnestly. “Some things are out of our control, Y/n. And, I hate to say it but, now, I think you need to come to accept the possibility that maybe...” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say something more or better but I’m not him and I can’t know...” 

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be comforting?” 

Chan tsked, as he often would do with a little sarcastic drag to his voice. “A long time ago I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and you know that I hold to my word.

He rubbed his thumb into your hands. 

“Do you want me to say then to go running after him? Throw it all to the wind? Even if it doesn’t end up going your way?” 

“...Maybe.” You swiped a tear from the corner of your right eye. “Would it be worth it?” 

“Maybe.” He sighed. 

A silence filled the hall and the space between you two, and Chan kept holding your hand. It was a simple touch, but you hadn’t realized that you had craved something as such. 

“Y/n? Can I say something?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Even if it isn’t him that it ends up being, I think that you should know that you still deserve happiness in someone. Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do. It sounds like to me...you’re finally realizing it.” He smiled with a bit of a wrinkle to his lips. “I’m proud of you.” 

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Its...been a long time coming.” Your head hit the wall behind you with a slight thud. “I’ve been painting recently. And...it means something to me. I feel like I found something, like I’m seeing something for the first time in a long time and it makes me really... full. Like he does.” 

Your friend let go, then went to play with his shoe-laces. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” 

“He just...loved me different. Better than I ever could myself, and I think that it made me realize that in order for me to love him too, I had to make peace with myself, and just...” You breathed out a laugh, “...Chill the fuck out. But--I know that I can’t let go of it forever. What happened, made me. I can’t give that up, but that doesn’t mean that I should wallow in it forever. I don’t deserve that.” 

Chan leaned to give you a light slap to the arm. “Look at you.” 

“I...saw Jisung too.” 

While anger laced his voice, Chan remained level headed. “...And?” 

“Me and him just dug ourselves into a deeper hole. Even he...he could do better. He needs a “Changbin” too. You know? I can’t be that for him. I never was even close. I feel sorry. I should probably see him one last time...” 

The image of Jisung’s disparaged face burned in your memory in the midst of it all. Somehow you had forgotten that he had gotten feelings tangled it up in it all, and you had just left. Through all that you had been through with him, you couldn’t let it just go so easily. 

“There’s a lot of things that I need to make right.” You sighed out with finality. Next to you, your best friend did the same. 

“Whatever happens, Felix and I will be here for you. Like always.” 

“Mm. Thank you, Chan. Really. Thank you so much. The two of you are the best friends that I could ask for. I don’t know how you put up with me...” 

“Ahhh, don’t mention it.” He shoved his shoulder into yours playfully. “Ya know, if this goes south, we could just date.” 

“What?!” Your head whipped over to him so hard it hurt. 

“As I recall, about a year ago all it took were some jell-o shots...” 

You smacked him upside the head, causing him to burst out laughing in that empty hall. 

“I told you to forget about that!!” 

“I’m just joking!! Jeez! Can you take a joke!?” 

You laughed with him, your goofy and kindhearted best friend. You realized it hadn’t happened in quite some time. 

“Yeah Changbin is alright, but me and Felix are forever. Got it?” He teased, and you slumped your head on his shoulder. 

“I know.” 

In your pants pocket, your phone vibrated and flashed with a white light. 

[01:36] L. Minho 

minho: i fucking hate that i’m in this position 

but 

bin’s in a bad way and i’m fairly certain that he hasn’t told you about it all 

idiot. 

anyway, his parents are being shitty assholes and i think that he really needs you right now, even if he isn’t saying anything about it. actually i know that he does. 

i also wanna ask you to kindly resolve whatever shit that you have going on before you walk in our door. out of kindness for both yourself and him. 

sorry not sorry. i really do love the both of you and it hurts me to see it be like this. 

i suggest that you come over as soon as you can. 

Your heart beat its way into your throat with a million emotions, but out of them all, fear for Changbin ached the most. 

 “Chan, I have to go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was likely Minho who had buzzed you in. 

Luckily, the night had somehow gotten warmer--at least warm enough to where you couldn’t see your breath in front of your face any more. Unfortunately though, you had still worn the shoes that Changbin would scold you for wearing on snow-packed nights. Luckily, the snow had started melted too. 

The door clicked when it unlocked, and you slid inside the glass entrance that was smudged with fingerprints and the wet from dog’s noses pressing on the surface. 

For a reason unknown to you, you decided to take the stairs--even though he had lived on the seventh floor. Partially you had decided that you had done so because it meant that you had more time with your thoughts; more time to decide if you really had resolved all the shit that you needed to leave on the outside of his doorstop. 

You thought back to the painting sitting finished in your room. It waited in all of it’s beauty for the sun to shine on it and the rest of the world to see it. For him to see it. It was for him that you had painted it in the first place. Every ounce of pain and confusion was lathered across the canvas, it was bare for anyone to see after you had kept it concealed for so long. 

He would see it. 

You took each step slow and carefully, and listened to the way that the sound bounced off of the walls and how the carpet matted on each stoop.

Chan had said, “Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do.” 

Minho opened the door after three clicks wearing a bathrobe and slippers. For being so distressed like his message had said, he looked perfectly cozy. You remembered that Minho really was one to keep it all together when shit would get intense. Somehow he had the ability to write whole papers over the course of one day and had passed tests after studying for only four hours. You wished you could manage as well as he could. 

“Fuck. It’s late.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come in. Take off your shoes please.” 

You did so, and rubbed your toes into their carpet. It was almost as if you were waiting further instructions, but you knew full well what you had to do. 

Minho glared at you expectantly. “Well? Shits left outside?” 

“Shits left outside.” You repeated with a nod. 

“l’ll let him explain. It isn’t really my place. Just--listen to him okay? I think that’s what he needs right now.” 

The apartment itself was a bit barren, the only things that were placed in the small space were the things that the inhabitants needed: a dining table, a leather couch, a TV set, a few beanbags and a kitchen kept clean by Minho. It was strange seeing a place so organized and...neat. It was as if this apartment was from an other side of the world compared to what you had grown used to previously. Changbin’s thick and dark black coat hung on one of the dining chairs, the same that he had worn the night that he had last seen you. You wondered if it had been sitting there these past few days. 

“Go on.” Minho flapped his hands to usher you down the hallway to Changbin’s room. At the end of the hallway was the bathroom, and seeing it flooded your skin with the feeling of warm water and defrosting skin, lips on lips with heated desire; tracing fingertips that got caught with the translucent stream of water as they brushed down spines and hips. If you could’ve gone back to then and done it all over...you wondered if you would’ve. 

“Knock first.” Minho mouthed. 

You did, breath hitching when it opened slightly, and you called out his name. “Bin? Its me. Can I...can I come in?” 

His hesitant voice called back to you, “Yes.” 

He was a crumble on his bed, black socks twisted up with his dark bedsheets and his hoodie riding up his back to expose a sliver of skin where he laid facing away from the door. His beautiful dark hair was knotted. 

“B-Bin? A-are you okay?” You advanced forward carefully, reaching out to touch his arm. You had never seen this confident and headstrong man reduced to something so small, it broke your heart into shards to see him as such. You didn’t know what to do with yourself: sit with him? Stand? Crawl in to bed next to him? Unspoken words filled the air, and he sniffed out loudly into it. 

“Thank you for messaging me still.” Was what he had said first. “I saw them a little bit ago. I was...too scared to open them at first...your messages. I was...ashamed to...” 

“--Bin,” You took two steps closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

He sniffed in with a clogged nose once more. “I’m sorry.” 

Two more steps. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and took all of your patience with me for granted. I really don’t deserve it. I tore you up, and that was awful of me. You somehow ended up being collateral damage to me figuring my shit out and I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I understand if you don’t want to keep this going that we--” 

“--Can you get into bed with me?” He suddenly interjected. Changbin twisted his hand back as if he knew that yours was there in some superhuman way, and grabbed at it. “It’s...cold.” 

Your heart paused, uncertain if you had heard him correctly. 

“Please?” Changbin muttered. “Two bodies is warmer than one.” 

Silently, you crossed the room and shimmied off your coat so it fell to the floor. It had been partially absentminded, but you had pulled on one of his shirts that day. It was light grey, and had nearly lost all semblance of his scent on it. You pulled the covers over both of you, peering just enough to see his puffed and red eyes and red wet nose. Seeing him like this, you had to fight every instinct to pull him into your arms, but rather keep a respectful distance. 

From seeing the way that he dominated the stage to how he looked under the soft glow of your pink lights, to how he had looked as thin and as fragile as glass now, it had all finally made sense to you. As brash and forthcoming as he was, it wasn’t all of who he was in the slightest. If anything, it was who he had pretended to be. 

Tears fell over his pink lips. “I didn’t tell you because...I was embarrassed. Fuck,” He laughed a little, “It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m so pathetic for getting so messed up over this all. I-I shouldn’t. That and...it’s not something that you should--”

“--Don’t you dare say that I shouldn’t worry about this Bin. How many times do you need me to say it?” You traced his dark hair over his ear. “What happened to being each other’s problems?” 

He smiled with a weak grin, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Minho didn’t tell you?” 

You shook your head. “He said that you should be the one to.” 

Changbin sighed out, then pulled the comforter up to his nose, adjusting himself to meet your eyes with his that were strained with pink. 

“They’re disowning me. For real this time. They asked me to do a legal name change and everything...as if...they’re cutting me out of the family line. Fuck, I mean, they basically are.” 

His chest shook with an inhale, and a thick and burning mucus felt as if it had clung to your throat. It was anger and rage, the kind that was so foreign to you, it even started you to feel such a thing. 

“Bin, I’m so sorry. They’re...they’re fucking less than human is what they are. Treating you their own son like this...like they think that they can reverse time so that you were never even born of them...” Under the sheets your knuckles clenched so hard it bit the skin of your palms. “I-I’m sorry too...that you were going through this by yourself--” 

In one single motion he had spread out his arms to circle them around your upper body and pull it into hm. 

There he was again. Rosemary and cedarwood. 

You were in shock, but feeling the warmth from his body on yours made you shiver--it was the contact that you had craved so intensely now that you had it, it was so all encompassing that your brain scrambled feeling it. 

“Thank you for coming.” He whispered to the top of your head. 

Your hands snaked around his body, and you held him back. 

In that very moment, you had decided that you would spend the rest of your life holding him back if he would let you. If there was someone out there listening to your thoughts, you prayed that they would let you hold him. 

Changbin patted to top of your head with a trembling hand.

“What the fuck do I do?” 

Your fingers tugged at the thick cotton of his hoodie. 

“They said that either I meet with them to sign away my name, or I pack up, and go back with them as if nothing happened. They said that they were willing to “forgive” everything that I had “done” if I chose to come back home with them, so to school, and forget everything that I’ve ever written, performed...” 

“They said that??” 

The young man remained silent, but instead nuzzled further into you. 

“They said that they could arrange for a meeting with their legal team to finalize it in as little as two days if I decide to do it. Those assholes expedited the whole process and called up their lawyers to make it happen as quick as possible...” 

“Bin...” You cooed, and smoothed up and down his back. Being close to him like this you could nearly feel his own heart breaking in his chest against yours. 

“Do I forget everything that I was to chase this...dream? Or do I go back, get their support, live a normal life...” 

“--Stop.” You gently pushed his hand away to look up at him. “This, all of this is your life Changbin. It’s what you’ve worked hard for relentlessly and it’s what makes you happy, isn’t it? Yeah, it’s harder to do, but you’ve gotten so far, people love you! You’ve made a name for yourself, people want to hear your music--” 

“--Yeah, my names gotten itself out there a little too well for my parent’s opinions.” 

You wiped a tear cascading from one of his exhausted eyes. “They should be proud of you, not trying to suppress you.”  

“They...don’t want me to be Changbin any more. Do you know how that feels? I’ve lived my whole life being me and now they just want to take away the very last thing that I have that they didn’t touch?” He stifled a sob. 

“Hey! Just because you change it on paper, doesn’t mean we have to call you that!” You laughed out gently, “If you want to get a driver’s license or something it might be important...but, you’re always going to be Changbin to me, and Minho and everyone else who knows you. A name is just a word. You make up who you really are.” 

Changbin laughed out, then returned his hand to pat at your head. 

“Who told you to say that?” 

You chuckled back at the way that he had turned your words back on you. “No one.” 

“I’m just me, but...” Under the covers, your legs intertwined. “I think that if we compare a life of missed oppurtunties to a life where you leave a couple things behind, its worth leaving.” 

Body heat swirled between the two of you, and it was as calming as a song. Changbin brought his hand down to caress the side of your cheek with as much gentleness one would with those fragile snowflakes. 

Past his shoulder, your eye caught a small piece of paper that had been pasted to the wall above his desk: right in a space where he could see it if he had sat at his desktop. It was crinkled and held several creases and the lead that had been used to draw on it had smudged as if it had rubbed up against itself. 

It was a picture of a bench, some Christmas lights, and the city skyline behind it.

Tears flooded your eyes, and then fell freely onto his his fingers where he held your face. They caught in the corners of your mouth, and heated up your eyes. 

“Woah, hey, what is it?” Changbin rubbed away the wet and pulled you even closer to him. 

“Y-you kept it?” Your voice wavered. 

“Kept what?” 

You pointed a shaking finger to your drawing posted on the wall, and his eyes widened at first like he was embarrassed, then he slowly faded into something much softer. 

He nearly whispered the words, “Of course.” 

“W-why?” 

“It reminded me of you and that night. I think that I realized something then.” 

“What’s that?” He wiped your tears once more, stretching the skin of your face as he did so. 

“I realized that, well...I’m in over my head here.” He laughed out lightly. “Do you need me to say it again? I love you a fuck ton, alright? Getting over things, and healing from things...it’s not easy. You...don’t have to apologize for the mess of things and what it did to you. It’s not your fault.” 

You threw your head into the crook of his neck to sob openly. But I hurt you. I made you wait...I-I don’t wait you to wait any longer.” 

“And I made you wait too. My stupid...my parents fucked me up too, and I couldn’t get over the fact that this fucking mess that they made of me put a wedge between me and you. I didn’t feel like you deserved...I’m a mess too. A fucking nervous, cocky bastard at times and I don’t know how to talk about it. Isn’t that pathetic?” 

“What?? No--” 

“You wanna call it even then?” He grinned out, and it was his sly little smile that you had found yourself thinking of after you had seen it for the first time those months ago. 

“I--” 

“Damn. It does feel kinda good to talk about things.” He joked. 

You cried out his name even harsher, then melted into his whole body. He was boundless in the way that he had understood you, and how he had looked you without condition or pause. 

You don’t have to be scared any more. 

With your face muffled in the fabric of his shirt, you let the words fly of your tongue with reckless abandon, and it felt as if you had finally been rid of the crushing shroud fogging your mind, and chaining your heart. 

“I-I want you to be...my Changbin. An-and I want to be--” 

“--Wait!” Changbin pulled you back by the shoulders with a new and wild smile on his face that only grew wider by the second. A type of excited panic flamed in his chocolate brown eyes. “Willyoubemygirlfriend???” He said at light speed. 

You were confused as to why he had said it as such, but you nodded, finally feeling the sense of respite that you had searched so hard for. “Y-yes?” 

Changbin startled you with his sudden crack of laughter, then squeezed you so tight that it became hard to breathe. Once he let go looser, he bowed in deep to press dozens of kisses on your mouth and around it. Most of them missed the mark, but that didn’t matter to him. He only stopped for a couple moments to mutter the words, “I wanted to say it first.” You would’ve laughed had he not been attacking you incessantly with more and more pecks that you struggled to keep up with. 

“I-I’m sorry again that I made you wait--” 

Changbin rolled his weight over to lean carefully over your body tangled up in the sheets, then kissed away at your lips with “don’t say that’s “ quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He said quickly, then returned, pouring out oceans of admiration onto your lips until they felt a little raw. You kissed him back too, and you kissed him like you wanted to spend your whole life holding him back. His blissful little “oh’s” tickled at your lips, and you giggled at the way that they vibrated. 

Once you had properly kissed nearly all of the air out of each other’s lungs, you laid back, gasping, and each still a bit bewildered. 

“Thank you for trusting me too.” You turned your head to look at him where he lay with quickened breaths quaking his chest. 

“When I go through with this name thing, can you...be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. His strong hands fell down his shirt which you wore; down to the small of your back where he snuck up the fabric. His fingers tickled at your tiny hairs there. 

“I have one more loose end to tie myself. One more place that I need to make peace.” 

Changbin nodded. “Mm. We’ll get through it together.” 

To your surprise, Changbin then took to pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his bare chest, then pulled off his pants from his legs a bit awkwardly under the covers. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

He giggled, then pulled at the hem of your shirt for you to do the same. 

“Trust me.” He whispered. 

You held his eyes as you did, and your bare skin too met the crinkling edges of the sheets which were a bit colder than you had expected. Changbin watched as you did so with a prideful little grin. 

“I-I’m confused.” You hugged your arms over your cold torso. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” He merely muttered, uncrossing your arms for him to look at you fully, then pulled you by the under sides of your chin back to his lips. He pulled gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Clothes were getting in the way.” He hushed, then set to unhooking your bra behind your back. 

“Getting in the way of what?” 

“Me being as close to you as I possibly can.” 

While he had said the phrase calmly, it still sent heat rising straight to your cheeks. 

“I want to hold my love like this for as long as she’ll let me. Can I?” 

Your two bodies met in the middle, flush, buzzing with a kind of giddy energy that only heightened the more curious that your hands got eating up each other’s presence. 

“As long as you’ll let me do the same.” 

You couldn’t quite tell, but it had almost felt as if Changbin had scribbled little invisible messages into the skin of your back. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He answered. 

You took his wrist to kiss at the line of a scar that lived there. Naturally, Changbin blushed rosy from the action--then promptly pretended that he just hadn’t. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[senstia]

~That one time when Andrew thought Neil cheated and it caused a bunch of unnecessary emotional distress~

*andreil

*angst with a happy ending

“A-Andrew?”

“Just go Neil.”

“I don’t understand. This is just over for good? After all this time?” Neil said, his voice breaking.

“This was never anything. And now it’s done. Get away from me.”

Andrew couldn’t bear to look at Neil for another second. His heart felt like it was in a vice grip and it was about to shatter into a million pieces. He’d never felt this level of pain before. And the one person he thought he could trust... No. He was done. Neil chose to cheat on him. Neil ended this. He had no right to look so heartbroken. He had no right to have tears streaming down his scarred cheeks. Andrew stormed out of the dorm before he hit Neil. Or took back every word he had just said. He couldn’t handle another second looking at those blue eyes. He couldn’t handle the way it felt like he’d lost a part of his soul.

~

Neil’s mind was a kaleidoscope of memories blinding him by the second. He couldn’t help but go over everything that had happened in the past month, trying to figure out where he went wrong. Trying to figure out why Andrew had shattered his heart and left him with no warning. He came up empty. They had had no fights, no arguments, nothing of consequence had occurred. He’d been blindsided. And now it felt like he was drowning and there was no way to the surface. To live without Andrew by his side. He would never see those hazel eyes sparkle again. He would never get to feel Andrew’s lips on his skin again. He would never get to have a lazy weekend with Andrew again. He couldn’t bear it, didn’t know how he would be able to survive this. Maybe it would be easier if he knew the reason, but Andrew gave no explanation. He was just done. He knew he would be haunted by this forever. Knew the loss of Andrew would be a scar that never faded. The pain was excruciating.

And there was nothing Neil could do but try to survive without his heart, for it would always belong to Andrew.

~

It was a Saturday night when Andrew had felt his world shatter before his eyes. He had been going to see his stupid junkie. Because he missed him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Of course Andrew had assumed Neil would be alone. The first sign was the thong thrown haphazardly on the floor in the living room, and then the bra following soon after. Andrew had felt nausea roil in his gut at the sight. He knew for a fact no one else was here but Neil. No one else had been staying in the dorm for the past few days, all busy with different plans. And as he had walked closer to the closed door he heard a girlish voice, followed by Neil’s carefree laugh.

“Neil stop it,” the girl said playfully, giggling.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed.

“Damn Neil, you’re insanely sexy. This is perfect!” The girl exclaimed.

Neil giggled softly and Andrew could easily imagine the blush on Neil’s cheeks at the compliment.

“Do you have condoms?” The girl asked playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry,” Neil said.

That was the point of the conversation when Andrew couldn’t stand to listen anymore. The familiar feeling of betrayal ripped through him like wildfire, surprising in its intensity. Neil didn’t want him anymore. Neil had chosen someone else, someone better.

His instinct was to go up to the roof, but he couldn’t bare it anymore. The roof was drowned in memories of Neil. He couldn’t go up there without feeling the echo of Neil’s lips on his skin.

So he started driving. He drove until he buried the heartbreak as far down as he could. Until he felt only numbness. He wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape him. And then he came back and Neil was alone again. He couldn’t bare to ask. Couldn’t bare to hear Neil either lie or confess. He just ended it. Ripped off the bandage. And then it was gone. This light in the darkness. Andrew had been in darkness his whole life, just surviving. And then Neil had come along and it was like he could finally see again, as much as he didn’t want to. And now the light was gone. The universe had proved him right once again. There was nothing good for him here. Neil was and had always been, a pipe dream, and Andrew had finally woken up. It was more painful than he had expected it to be. The pain would linger, he knew. He would never be able to escape it. Because part of his soul was missing now, shredded apart, taken by Neil’s scarred hands and ice blue eyes and silver tongue.

~

It was movie night with the foxes. It had been two days since Andrew and Neil’s breakup and none of the foxes knew. Neil felt nauseous at the thought of having to tell the foxes, of having to be in the same room as Andrew again. He hadn’t seen him since that day. He didn’t want to cry again. For two days he had dreamt of Andrew. Andrew next to him, Andrew loving him, and both times he had woken up to remember the truth. It shattered him every time. He hadn’t expected to cry. But the tears flowed and overflowed and never stopped. Just the thought of Andrew made his throat tighten painfully.

~

Andrew knew he looked like shit. He hadn’t slept one minute the past two days. He hadn’t been able to smoke either, it reminded him too much of Neil. The nicotine withdraw mixed with his grief caused headaches, lack of appetite, nausea. He had already vomited his guts up twice today. He had told Bee what happened, but her advice had just sounded like ringing in his ears, faraway, insignificant. He was drifting off to sea and there was no one to pull him back. And now he had to see him. He had to sit in the same goddamn room as Neil for hours, pretending to care about movie night, pretending to be some form of a capable human being. It was going to be agony to be at a party when he felt like an open wound, raw and bleeding out.

Neil wasn’t there yet when he got in. Andrew dragged his tired body to a beanbag and plopped down, not acknowledging anyone. Normally, he would have stopped to get ice cream first, but he knew he would vomit if he so much as smelled it. Normally he’d be sitting with Neil up against him, his warmth seeping into him like honey. Nothing was normal anymore.

Neil finally appeared in the doorway and it was a slight consolation to Andrew that Neil looked like shit too. His eyes were puffy, red, and bloodshot. He had deep dark circles under his eyes. His hair looked greasy and disheveled, like he hadn’t bothered to wash or brush it in days. His eyes were lifeless, like chips of ice so cold they could burn. Neil’s eyes caught Andrew’s for a moment and his entire body froze. Andrew felt nausea roil in his gut at the feel of Neil’s eyes on him. He looked away quickly.

“Hey... woah Neil. Are you okay? You look like shit,” Matt said.

Neil’s eyes barely flickered in recognition of Matt’s words. He didn’t even look at Matt, his lifeless eyes were glued to the floor.

“I’m fine,” Neil said, his voice cold, dead. Matt looked deeply concerned and he exchanged worried looks with Dan and Nicky. Neil just trudged over to his beanbag on the opposite side of the couch and plopped in it, staring at his hands like he was searching for something there.

“Neil? Can you tell us what’s wrong?” Allison asked, leaning over Neil.

Neil didn’t reply, just flicked his eyes to Andrew for a moment and then went back to staring at his hands.

All the foxes looked to Andrew then.

“Andrew?” Nicky said tentatively.

“We broke up.”

All the foxes froze at this. Eyes jumping between Neil and Andrew over and over, most likely cataloging how miserable they both looked.

“W-what happened?” Nicky asked looking to Neil.

Neil snapped his eyes to Andrew, fire flickering there once again, “He dumped me,” Neil said, his voice like steel. Andrew wanted to bury a knife in his gut in that moment. How dare Neil make him out to be the bad guy?

Andrew snorted, muttered under his breath, “You’re pathetic.”

Neil seemed to freeze at the words, and then deflate. He looked so broken and defeated in that moment that Andrew almost felt regret. No. Neil cheated. He deserved this.

Allison went over and sat next to Neil, wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Mind if I sit with you for the movie?” She asked kindly. Neil just smiled weakly and rested his head on Allison’s shoulder. Nicky gave Andrew a scathing look before flicking the lights off for the movie. By the end Andrew’s head was pounding and he felt one second away from vomiting all over the floor. Nicky, Allison, Matt, and Dan had all been fawning over Neil the entire movie. Bringing him food and drinks, hugging him, whispering words of kindness in his ears. Aaron and Kevin had been cautiously watching Andrew throughout the night but hadn’t said a word. They had looks of concern in their eyes though.

When Nicky flipped the lights on Andrew immediately got up to leave, but he swayed on his feet. He paused, closing his eyes, trying to gain equilibrium. Neil had trudged off to the bathroom so at least Andrew could leave the dorm in peace. Andrew almost didn’t say anything, but he felt their eyes on him, angry and accusing. Because how dare Andrew hurt their perfect little Neil. Andrew paused in the doorway on his way out, turned to look back at the foxes.

“You can stop treating Neil like a broken victim.”

“Why?” Nicky said sharply.

“Because he cheated on me,” Andrew said with a cold grin, saluting the foxes with a hand as he left the dorm.

Andrew felt Aaron on his heels as he was leaving the dorm. He turned around to face him. Aaron looked confused, distraught.

“He cheated on you?”

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” Andrew said, raising a brow.

“How do you know?”

“I heard them. I saw remnants of their clothing on the floor,” Andrew said honestly.

“Another guy?” Aaron asked, sounding afraid.

Andrew swallowed the tightness in his throat, “A girl.”

Anger and disgust flashed in Aaron’s eyes, “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that bastard,” Aaron said venomously. Andrew just laughed coldly and walked away.

“Don’t follow me.”

~

Aaron stormed back into the dorm, ready to rip Neil’s throat out.

“Where’s Neil?” He demanded.

“He just left to go on a run... why do you look like you’re about to commit homicide?” Matt asked cautiously.

“Because that piece of shit cheated on Andrew.” Aaron said.

“I thought Andrew was kidding,” Nicky said.

“Holy shit... Neil actually...” Kevin muttered under his breath.

“Wait. Wait. Are you sure?” Dan asked, looking to Aaron.

“What? You think he’d lie about that?” Aaron asked scathingly.

None of the foxes had a reply to that. They were all standing in shocked silence. Morning practice tomorrow was going to be rough.

~

Andrew squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his hand against the goal, trying to fight against his nausea. He knew he was going to vomit again. He just didn’t know when.

Neil hadn’t shown up to practice yet. He was 30 minutes late. All the foxes had been silent throughout practice, only speaking when absolutely necessary. Wymack had asked what the hell was going on so Nicky went up and whispered something in his ear. Wymack stayed quiet after that.

Andrew walked over to the water jug, trying to blink the stars out of his eyes. And then Neil walked onto the court. Andrew physically gagged at the sight and had to swallow back his vomit. Neil looked even worse today, if that were possible. He didn’t look at anyone as he trudged towards the team. He looked dead inside, like a ghost of himself.

Before anyone could react Aaron had Neil slammed against the wall. Aaron punched Neil in the jaw and Neil’s head snapped to the side at the impact but his expression barely changed. He didn’t even fight back. Everyone was frozen, not knowing what to do.

Aaron slammed him harder against the wall, “I should kill you. I should rip your throat out right here.”

Neil just laughed, his expression dead, “I won’t stop you.”

Aaron seemed to pause at Neil’s tone. Because Neil meant it. If Aaron had actually tried to kill him, he wouldn’t have fought back. The lack of fire, the lack of care in Neil’s eyes, it was terrifying. And even though Neil had shattered Andrew, the thought of Neil dead, the thought of Neil wanting to be dead, made Andrew sick. And finally the vomit he’d been holding back all day came out. Everyone turned to Andrew in shock. Andrew was on his hands and knees on the ground now, dry heaving, choking and spitting. He had barely eaten in days, his stomach had nothing left to reject but the feeling of his heart shattering over again.

“Andrew,” Neil said breathlessly, breaking apart from Aaron to run to Andrew’s side. Andrew kept dry heaving, didn’t have enough energy to push Neil away when he settled next to him on the ground.

When Andrew finally stopped dry heaving he turned a scathing look to Neil, grabbed his shirt with a fist and pulled him closer.

“You piece of shit. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to give up. You don’t get to want to die. Don’t you fucking dare Abram.”

Neil’s eyes widened, he shook his head, over and over, “I can’t... I can’t do this Andrew. It hurts too much.”

And for some reason at those words Andrew paused, realized something. Neil had never once looked guilty. He had never once looked regretful. He had only looked heartbroken and confused. Either that meant that Neil was much more heartless than Andrew had thought, or... No. There’s no way Andrew was wrong. He knows what he heard. He knows what he saw. But some instinct inside of him made him pause. He knew Neil better than he knew anyone or anything, and if Neil had really cheated on him this wouldn’t have been his reaction. Andrew went over what he had seen and heard over and over in his head, and realized... there could be another explanation. The hope that flared in his chest pissed him off so much that he shoved Neil away as hard as he could. Neil just steadied himself and blinked at Andrew. He had noticed Andrew’s thoughts changing direction.

“Drew?”

Andrew glared at him, “Don’t. Don’t fucking call me that right now.”

Andrew’s thoughts were going a mile a minute, trying to discern the truth from what he had assumed. He knew he should just ask Neil, but he didn’t want an audience for that conversation. He looked in Neil’s blue eyes and only saw fear, confusion, hope, and such deep, unending sadness. No guilt. No regret. Had Andrew truly been wrong? Did he break up with Neil for a reason that didn’t exist?

“What is it?” Neil asked.

Andrew just shook his head and walked off the court.

Andrew went to the roof of fox tower. Smoked a cigarette, smoked 3. He called Bee. Told her his predicament. Of course she just said he needed to have an honest conversation with Neil. Andrew rolled his eyes at the thought. It had been a while and he was sure practice was almost over by now but he was tired of waiting. Andrew drove back to the court and waited in the parking lot. When the foxes saw Andrew waiting they all paused. Andrew just looked to Neil and gestured for him to come over. The foxes stayed back, watching, but just out of earshot.

Neil walked up to Andrew, he looked nervous.

“When I came to the dorm Saturday night there was woman’s undergarments thrown of the floor. I heard you with someone in the bedroom. She told you you were sexy and she asked if you had condoms.” Andrew said calmly. Neil blinked. Blinked again. He dropped his bag and racquet on the ground like he was in shock.

“You thought I cheated on you!?” Neil half-shouted.

“Didn’t you?” Andrew asked.

“No! Andrew I would never- I can’t believe-Oh my God.”

Now Neil was making Andrew feel stupid for ever thinking it, and that really pissed him off.

“Explain,” he bit out.

Neil rubbed a hand across his face, disbelief and frustration written all over his face.

“One of the girls in my math class. We were assigned a group project together so she came over a few times to work on it. Her clothes were on the floor because she spilled her coffee all over her on her way in. I let her borrow some of Allison’s leftover clothes while hers got washed,” Neil cringed, “While we were working on the project she said my hair looked long and I needed a haircut. I agreed and she trimmed my hair a little. She called me sexy because I guess she thought it looked good,” Neil’s cheeks flushed and he twisted his hands together, “She knew I was seeing you later that night, thats why she was talking about condoms. I’m sorry Drew.”

Andrew stared at Neil, took all this information in, repeated it in his head. He knew Neil wasn’t lying. Neil’s words were genuine, his expression was genuine. He felt like an idiot. Of course Neil wouldn’t cheat on him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Okay.”

Neil took a step closer to Andrew, looked at him with those big blue eyes.

“Does this mean we’re back together?”

Andrew scoffed and looked away. Neil just took another step towards Andrew and lifted his hand to Andrew’s cheek. Andrew nuzzled his head against Neil’s hand and sighed, his eyes fluttering shut. Andrew’s heart felt so happy, so light. The relief of having Neil back was almost enough to bring him to his knees. His Neil. The light was back brighter than ever before.

Neil stared and stared at Andrew. His Andrew. He understood now. He felt horrible, thinking of the way Andrew must have felt the last few days. He wish he would have known. If he had known Andrew had thought he was cheating, of all things... The thought of Neil ever cheating on Andrew was laughable. Neil would rather die than be with anyone else. All Neil wanted to do now was wrap Andrew in his arms and never let go.

“I thought i’d lost you,” Neil said softly, still caressing Andrew’s cheek.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” Andrew whispered. The confession broke Neil’s heart.

“Yes or no?” Neil said and right when he saw Andrew’s nod he wrapped him in his arms, holding him tightly.

“I love you Drew. You’re all I will ever want. Every day for the rest of my life. I only want you. Always.”

Andrew had his head buried in Neil’s neck, breathing him in, soaking up the words Neil was saying.

“I love you too. And yes junkie we’re back together.”

Neil laughed lightly and pulled back, “Promise me if you ever think I cheated on you again you’ll talk to me about it first before dumping me?”

Andrew snorted but still saw the phantom pain lingering in Neil’s eyes, “I promise. But Neil? Why did you think I broke up with you?”

Neil frowned, “I didn’t know. I thought you just got bored of me like you said you would.”

“I never meant that. I want to be with you forever.”

Neil sighed and his lips quirked up, “That’s good.”

“Yes or no Neil?”

“Yes,” Neil said breathlessly and then they were kissing, slowly, languidly. Andrew pulled Neil closed and wrapped and arm around his waist, the other going to his hair. Neil tangled his hands in Andrew’s hair as they kissed and all the pain of the last few days disappeared.

When they broke apart Neil traced Andrew’s lips with a hand, “I love you Drew. Only you.”

Andrew kissed Neil once on the forehead and flicked his eyes to the foxes. They all looked thoroughly confused. Probably all wondering why Andrew was taking back Neil if he cheated on him. Neil glanced back at the foxes and then looked to Andrew, frowning.

“They all think I cheated on you don’t they?”

“Maybe,” Andrew said, his lips tugging up at the corners.

Neil snorted, “Well that explains why Aaron punched me.”

Andrew’s grin faltered, he examined Neil’s jaw but only saw a small bruise there. Neil’s eyes softened.

“I’m okay. And besides if I had cheated on you I definitely would have deserved it.”

Andrew snorted and gestured for the foxes to come over to them. They all cautiously walked up and waited for Andrew or Neil to speak.

“I didn’t cheat on Andrew. But I appreciate your defending him. If I had cheated on him I would have deserved much worse.”

“Oh thank god. So you two are back together now? Because it was really horrible having you both so unhappy.” Nicky rambled.

“Wait. Andrew you just assumed he cheated and dumped him without even asking him about it?” Kevin asked.

Andrew just shrugged, “Oops.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes at Neil, not fully believing him. Andrew caught his eye and nodded. Reassuring Aaron that he knew what he was doing.

“We’re leaving now. Bye,” Andrew said, taking Neil’s hand and dragging him to the car.

Once they were alone in the Maserati Neil smiled softly at Andrew. Andrew just stared back.

“What is it junkie?”

“I love you,” Neil said, grinning widely.

Andrew rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth. He leaned in and kissed Neil softly on the lips, “I love you too.”

[angstyclowns]

Alpha! Izuku Midoriya x Omega! Reader (Ft.Omega! Ochako)

ANd I saId AhHaHHAHHA AHHHAHHA 

I SaID HeY WhaT’s GOiNg On~~~~

I’m as useless as the G in lasagna on this page I swear.

 I also swear I’m super sorry for the inactivity but I’ve been going on hardcore isolation for four weeks (FUcK TruDEaU HaS A CaCTUs DILdO In My AsS) and I’m losing motivation fast, but I’ll try to get some asks done as soon as possible!

Anyway-

I now present my first attempt at a fic on this page-

Warning! Cheating and alpha heart break. Poor IzUwU.

Heartbreak kid

He knew deep down that she wasn’t the omega for him. He knew it, his inner alpha knew it, hell, he was sure deep down, even she knew it. But something in them kept them together. Neither were sure as to what is was, but it raged like an angry forest fire in both of them, keeping them at each others side even if they knew that something- no, someone- was out there, just aching to be a better match. 

Izuku knew he didn’t want to keep this relationship going, but the girl -He’d say omega, but that would imply his alpha viewed her as such, when in reality,it barely saw her as a person- was adamant on keeping him within arms reach. But lately, it’s taken such a turn, not even the alpha was sure he could keep up. 

Her nest was no longer an acceptable zone, the male not even allowed within a fifteen feet radius of the nest of bed sheets and pillows, her purrs no longer rang throughout the room whenever he cuddled with her, hell, cuddling alone- something both alphas and omegas needed- was so rare, Izuku was shocked beyond words. 

“Are you okay?”

 The words broke his train of though as the sudden coldness of ink disappeared from his bicep. Bright (E/C) orbs peaked up at him, bangs of (H/C) intruding every so often before she brushed them away. Her scent was vanilla sweet and surrounded him so nicely, making purrs erupt from deep within his chest. Her own purrs echoed around him reciprocation, making his alpha yip in joy. 

“I guess. Just thinking...”

The (H/C)ette hummed, resuming her work on his bicep. Somehow the omega below him convinced him to allow her to draw and doodle all over his arm, using skin safe markers of course, acting therapeutic in a way to both of them. 

“About Uraraka?”

He nodded as his purrs immediately softened, nearly disappearing completely. The click of the marker cap shutting tightly rung through his ears but, he remained stoic, eyes tracing over line after line etching onto his arm. Beautiful orchids and leaves trailed up and down his upper arm, highlighting the muscles he worked so hard to get. She even went as far as incorporating the scars into part of the piece of work, making them look like veins trailing up and down the petals of a primrose- the centerpiece of the artwork. The peice was beautiful in every way, and if he could, he’d get it tattoo’d permanently. Hell, his inner alpha was debating buying a tattoo machine just so he could have it done permanently. 

The soft hand on his un-inked arm brought his attention full circle once more, his emerald orbs snapping forward to meet (E/C) ones. Her facial features were lax and calm, and made him smile.  Her mouth moved but he couldn’t hear the words coming out of her mouth. He was too busy watching her facial features, how her eyes shined with whatever she was saying, brows raising in the cutest way, he barely even saw her stop talking. 

“-Zuku? Izuku? Izuku!” 

The alpha shook his head at the sound of his name, quickly flushing red as she giggled, waving him off as he furiously apologized. When he shyly asked her to repeat himself she did so with little hesitation. Thinking back, if he had done the same to his now girlfriend, she’d snap at him.

“I was saying that maybe you and Uraraka should have a movie night tonight. Maybe some time alone would do you both some good. I could help you set up!” Your smile was bright and it made Izuku’s inner alpha whimper at the thought of him and Uraraka alone. He wanted to have movie night with you. Laughing with you as you flawlessly recited lyric after lyric, holding you when the climax of the movie would hit and you would inevitably feel sympathetic for the main character, carrying you to bed after you fell asleep during the credits, cuddling with you until day break. All of these things were things he wanted to do with you. Not her. 

Nodding, he followed you into the dorms (Both of you sitting on the outside porch for some fresh air), thinking back onto his relationship with the brunette. She had asked him to scent something for her about two months back, and he was overjoyed. His inner alpha couldn’t care less, as he had already seen you as his omega, but Izuku knew deep down he wouldn’t get that chance. You were gorgeous in every way and he adored you for your kind hearted attitude. He adored you. But that was a far away fantasy in his mind so he settled for Uraraka. 

In the first few days, his alpha completely ignored the omega, only recently coming around to even think about her as a suitable omega; and then it was if a flip was switched and they were all back at square one. But this wasn’t his alpha’s fault. Uraraka changed completely, making even Izuku question if he wanted to keep the relationship going. And he was going to break things with her, but he didn’t have a reasonable excuse. 

No matter, maybe he could rekindle this dying light with your help. 

Or so he thought. Watching as your skipping form abruptly stopped at the kitchen entrance. His brows furrowed as his alpha pushed to the surface, immediately rushing to your side. His heart dropped at the sight. 

Iida and Uraraka were hurriedly trying to clean themselves up, the appearance of you obviously disrupting their previous activities (Izuku shuddering at  thought of what that could be. But between their disheveled hair and clothes, he could make a pretty good guess). His alpha was snarling wildly and growling, begging to be let out and put that damned omega in her place. Playing with an alpha like that was shameful that in olden days, it was punishable by death. 

But Izuku knew that would nothing but scare you, and he didn’t want that. So sucking up his tears and clearing his throat, he merely let the alpha relish in the look of horror that crossed their faces.  Clutching his hands into fists, he growled lowly before opening his mouth to speak. Yet the words he heard weren’t his. 

They were yours.

“You pitiful excuse of an omega! How in the world could you even think about cheating on an alpha, let alone one as sweet as Izuku?!” You spat the words, snarling as you stepped forward, anger apparent in your words, actions and scent. “Your pathetic doing so! I’m so ashamed of your actions, you almost make me ashamed to be an omega. God, there aren’t enough words in any language to describe how inexcusable your actions have been, much less disgraceful.”

You snapped viciously before turning to face Iida. “And you! How could you do this to one of your best friends?! This is deplorable and surely is enough to tarnish the Iida family name don’t you think?!”

The shocked look the two gave you was enough for you to deem this a triumphant victory before pulling Izuku, who looked seconds away from breaking down to his room. You watched as he let the rivers upon rivers of tears escape the corners of his eyes, eventually leaving him to his own devices, as an angry and upset alpha was also an unpredictable one.

<>~<>~<>~<>

Five days. It had been five days since anyone had seen Izuku. You left him food by his door everyday for every meal, praying he was eating it. Since the stench of death wasn’t constantly wafting from his room, you would say he was. 

You had been in his room once within those five days, hoping to collect the dishes he was obviously compiling. He let you in, but holy shit did he look like death hit him with an iron mallet. His hair was greasy and his shirt had stains all over it; eyes puffy from days of crying. It made your omega whine in agony. You ended up making him a makeshift nest that day before leaving with the dishes. 

Right now, you were wishing you had stayed with him though. Recovery girl and Aizawa stood in front of you, each looking incredibly disappointed.

Uraraka had challenged you to a fight in the middle of the night, and with your omega still being incredibly angry at her, you didn’t get the chance to decline. It had been a long and tedious battle- mainly because she just wouldn’t give up- but you won in the end; with a price however. 

Your eye was swollen and turning darker by the second and the bottom right of your lower jaw was bandaged, and you had numerous other bandages covering cuts all over your body (She had thrown you through a window). 

“I’m sure you both realize how incredibly foolish this was-”

“Y/N!” 

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name, green hair quickly entering your line of vision as a body collided with yours. Pain seared through your side but you pushed through it, just happy to see the alpha out of his room. Your omega purred loudly before you could stop it, Izuku holding you close to his chest, almost in fear of letting you go. A small cough from the male teacher behind you quickly made him let go, but he still kept a hand on your shoulder. 

He sat silently as Aizawa dealt out reprimendments and  punishments, turning to you once more after he left.

If you thought he looked bad before, he looked much worse now. Bags set under his eyes, heavy and deep, and his eyes were much more bloodshot. Tear tracks reflected off of the light above you and you could see the nearly gone remnants of the drawing on his arm. 

You didn’t get to ponder more on it before he laid his head on top of yours, hiccuping as his breaths came in short gulps of air. It didn’t seem as if he were crying, but you’ve been wrong before. 

“Please. Never do that again. When I heard you got into a fight, I- I thought I had failed you again and you were seriously hurt.” His voice cracked, but his arms remained firm, keeping you tightly against him. 

“What about me, Deku?” That very voice. The one that started this mess seemed to make Izuku grip you even tighter.

“What about you?” For a normally docile alpha, the growl that escaped him would send shivers down even Bakugo’s spine. You arms instinctively wrapped around the alpha’s ribs as you nuzzled into his chest. You know he’d never hurt you, but your omega would be damned if he wasn’t surrounding by his scent right this minute. 

He purred lowly before turning his head to face the brunette beside you two, “I trusted you, Uraraka. And you broke that trust. As far as I’m concerned your nothing but a classmate right now. Maybe one day, we could rebuild a friendship, but I don’t see that day happening anytime soon. I may be partially to blame for trusting you so easily, but even then, cheating on me in downright implorable, even for a villain. You destroyed our friendship, destroyed our relationship and tried fighting Y/N. If you knew what was good for you, you’d shut up and leave me and my omega alone right now.”

Without another word, Izuku picked you up bridal style, quickly carrying you out of Recovery girl’s office. 

Deep down, you both knew he wasn’t ready for a relationship just yet- it would take a while for him to get over the harsh reality of a heartbreak. But now, Izuku could look forward knowing you were there to help him on his journey, and when he was ready...

You’d be waiting with open arms and a smile on your face.

[wordynerdygurl]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Author’s Note:  Well hello my friends!  Since hitting 1000 Followers in July (WHAT?!  STILL UNBELIEVABLE!!!) I’ve been working on the requests sent in by my amazing troop of readers!  This is another one of those stories which I’m pleased to share.   As always, help my unending need for validation but re-blogging or liking the story!  Also, you can send asks, make your own request, follow me, or be added to my tag-list! Last, @sammy-jo1977 is my beta... and my ride or die home girl!  Thanks lady! Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader, appearances from most of the Avengers

Summary/ Request:  @queenofmischief asked for a story where “Loki and you guys are friends growing up and you realize you like him and try to hide it but somehow at a party or something or another, maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven is involved, it comes out and really hot smut ensues?”

I used some of the ideas you gave me, dear reader, but made it a little more mature, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Warnings:  Lots of 80′s references... music, movies, clothes, etc.  References of smut, heavy petting and kissing

ENJOY!

"But, like, I really don't want to go."  Your cellphone, pinned between your ear and shoulder, pushed your earring into the tender flesh behind your lobe.  It probably didn't help that the jewelry in question was a pair of huge hoops, fluorescent in color and hard plastic.

You heard Wanda sigh, "Yea… I know.  It's just, we all are… and you know it'll be worse if you don't show up."

"I really hate it."  Using a sing-song voice didn't change the feelings behind your words.  Going up to the main floor of The Avengers Tower for a theme party was not a thrilling idea.

"I know you do-", pulling open the door between your room and hers, you palmed your phone, frowning at your friend, "-But you look great!"

"Radical… or wicked… or tubular would be more 80's appropriate."  Still, her compliment made you smile.  It really was a great outfit, totally encapsulating the MTV generation's vibe, complete with hot lime colored leg warmers. 

 Your cropped REO Speedwagon t-shirt was cut off at the neck, dripping low enough to expose one whole shoulder, and a wide stripe of the magenta colored tank top underneath.  Having tucked the camisole into your acid washed denim micro miniskirt, you finished the ensemble with a pair of black pumps, and the obligatory scrunchie of cheap yellow satin.  It pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail.

For makeup you'd painted your eye-shadow on, bright turquoise with pink under your brows.  Lipstick in a shimmery rosy hue brought extra attention to your lips.  And you stored your cell phone, lip gloss and keys in your iridescent fanny pack.

Wanda couldn't help giggling at the sight of you and your collection of clashing colors.  For her look tonight she'd dawned a pair of skin tight leggings, an over-sized button down shirt with a stretchy black belt that was about four inches wide.  Ballet flats, teased out hair and stark makeup had Wanda looking like a video vixen.  It was impressive.

"See, you went sexy… and I went silly."  Pouting now, you flopped onto your bed, "Can I just not?"

Sitting down next to you, patting your knee, "You don’t look silly, but you do look like you could be a hair band groupie!  That’s sexy!” Shrugging your shoulders, unconvinced, Wanda added, “Besides, tonight… It may be fun.  And, worse case?  You get blitzed like a teenager on prom night."

"No… that's not the worst case.  Worst case?  He's there."

Sighing, Wanda shook her head, "He does still rub you the wrong way, huh?  And, yes, he may be there… but-" standing, taking you with her, "-it would be a shame to waste all your wicked cool work!"

Hearing her use the dated vernacular made you grin.  She was right.  Tonight could be a blast, if you were able to get out of your head.  Jumping off the bed, unsettling one of those fashionable leg warmers, you hugged your friend tightly.  You could do this.  You wouldn't be alone.  And if Loki was there, he'd just have to get over it.  You weren't going to pay him any attention.

---

"Mr. Loki… can we please go?  We're already stupid late."  

Bending to straighten his red suspenders, Loki smirked at himself, "Greed is good."

Sighing, exasperated and edging into anger, Peter pulled open the front door, "I don't know what that means, but you look… greasy."

"Like I could steal your company in a corporate take over?  Maybe steal your woman too", Loki questioned, excited at the idea.

Crossing his arms over the red puffy vest he had bought specifically for tonight, Peter grunted, "Uh… I… I guess.  I meant more like one of the assholes in Wolf of Wall Street."

God, you had better be there tonight.  Loki was putting a lot of hope on Stark’s little shindig and he wanted to make sure that all of the little details were absolutely perfect, giving him every advantage.  Standing now, slicking back his long dark hair, "That, my young spider friend, is exactly what I am going for… Evil 80′s CEO."

"Great."

Loki heard the frustration in the young man’s voice.  Someday he would understand, Loki thought, turning to the youthful Avenger beside him, "You certainly make a dashing Marty McFly, Peter.  Truly."

"Aw!  Really, Mr. Loki?  Ya mean it?"  That made the Spider Boy preen, popping his collar, and standing a little straighter.

"I do!  Now-" flashing a rakish smile to his reflection as he passed, "-let's get upstairs and see how everyone else is doing!"

---

Everyone else was ready to party.  The last mission, a particularly difficult one, involved Hydra agents banging it out against our heroes along the rough terrain of the polar ice cap.  Draining the physical and emotional resources of everyone, including you and Loki, Tony had planned a little party to kick off a period of rest and relaxation.

As soon as the elevator opened you knew it was going to be an insane night.  Everything was brightly lit.  Paper streamers were strung up haphazardly along the walls and ceiling.  Big plastic buckets of chips and cheese curls were put out on the counter along with a huge punch bowl that reeked of rum and sugary fruit juice.  On the floor in the kitchenette was a garbage can, freezing, full of ice, only the keg tap visible.  A stack of red plastic cups was at the ready.

Someone had ordered pizza.  Well, dozens of pizzas.  The boxes were piled along the table already crammed with pretzel bags and Doritos.  

Steve was being instructed on the basics of Beer Pong and, you decided, definitely being hustled by Sam.  Bucky looked on with curiosity, quietly sneaking closer to the chips and dip, hoping no one would notice.  Rhodey was watching them both through the reflective lenses of his aviator shades, doing a great job of looking like a Top Gun cadet, including the tight jeans and broken-in bomber jacket.  Grinning as he drank down a bottle of beer, Rhodes shouted, "Hey Stank!  Is all of this really necessary?"

"Don't come for me Rhodey!"  Wearing a pair of neon leopard spotted knit pants, a green polo shirt and white sneakers, Tony was clutching a glass bowl filled with little slips of paper to his chest.  No one had managed to figure out what they were or why he held them.  Drinking two beers from his plastic, can holding helmet, Tony would answer only with a slightly slurred, "It's my trashy 80′s party and I do what I want!"

And Tony had thought of everything.  Sounding like a mixed tape pulled from the radio, the tunes didn't let up!  Ratt, Foreigner, Cindi Lauper, Madonna and Tom Petty all took turns blasting through the room.  So many hits from the past pumped through the sound system, getting people on their feet and keeping them there.  You were swinging and swaying along, having a blast, but when Bon Jovi hit the group of Intergalactic Warriors went wild.

Clint, rocking a mullet wig and a vest with no shirt, jumped onto a table making the motions of an air guitar champion.  Singing into a beer bottle like it was his microphone, "Whoooooaaaa we're halfway there…"

Guffawing, you hid behind your Bud Light filled cup, already red cheeked from the non-stop laughing and alcohol in your system.  At some point you had given up Wanda to Vision in a varsity jacket, doing his best jerk-off jock impression, and not quite pulling it off.  It wasn't his fault that he was too polite to put people down in the way of Eighties movie bad guys. Alone, feeling flushed, but happy, you needed a break and some quiet.  Flinging yourself onto the soft sofa, watching the frat house style antics unfold all around, you couldn’t help laughing.  Tony always found a way to knock the group out of their post mission funk.  Sometimes that meant week long Caribbean vacations and sometimes that meant dressing up in retro attire and scream singing with a cold beer in your hands.  Either way, it seemed to bring everyone closer together, and the pictures were certainly worth framing. The couch dipped as someone joined you.  Swiveling, not quite drunk but not quite sober, you couldn’t help the groan that left you.  “Oh.  It’s you.”

Not exactly the response Loki wanted, he was just grateful that you spoke to him at all.  Lately you seemed to flee any room he entered, a hurt and heavy sigh escaping you before you'd make your exit, never looking back.  Loki couldn't understand why.

After all, it had been two months since that night.  The one where he'd stumbled on you, glowing blue in the light of the television set, alone and in the darkness.  You asked him to join you, he had accepted.

The movie was called "Say Anything" and Loki had to admit, as far as romance on film went, this story was very moving.  But that was an unexpected bonus to being so near to you.  Before the credits rolled, you had burrowed against him, snuggled under his arm with your head on his chest.  

Stroking your hair, Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, thoughtlessly, naturally.  Pushing away, looking up at him through hooded lashes, "You… you kissed me?"

Words failed the silver tongued devil, something he still pondered all these weeks later, so a nod was all you got for a response.  Kneeling, your sleep shirt riding over your thighs, Loki watched your small hand rising to cup his cheek.  Feeling your lips against his own was the beginning of the best night of his life.

And then, nothing.  It was like a switch had been thrown and no matter how many ways he tried to reach out for you, Loki wasn't able to connect.  Not like that night.

So, he was going against his nature tonight.  Joining the group, drinking a bit of his brother's mead, wearing a dated but pristine business suit.  All done in the vain hope that something would shift in his favor.

He had already lost too many nights to memories of you.  Soft, full skin under his broad palms.  The tiny moan you exhaled when Loki’s tongue met your own.  How your wet, willing body accepted him, without question or stipulation.  And in the afterglow, when your head rested in the crook of his neck and your cherry cola scented breath circled him, you let Loki hold you close.

But he buried it all.  Tonight he was the embodiment of all things slick.  Nothing could stick to him; not when he had a goal in mind and this much gel in his hair.  Loki Odinson would be taking you home tonight, come hell or high water. Wolfish, Loki’s grin was wicked, “Yes.  Your dream has come true.”  Sitting back, he crossed his designer suit covered knee at the ankle, exposing socks with little golfers on them.  He let his right arm rest along the back of the sofa, not around you… not yet, but inching closer. “What is that cologne you’re wearing?” “Don’t you like it?  I’m told Drakkar Noir was quite the scent of the 80′s.  I did my research.” Twisting, you looked him over, impressed despite yourself.  The suit was totally of its time.  Black, pinstriped and you were sure the jacket that came with it was draped somewhere safe.  His shirt was shiny but soft and bright, blinding white.  Suspenders of red matched the tie that draped down the center of his chest. With his hair combed straight back and held in place with some kind of product, Loki looked like he was capable of eating a six course lunch at Sardi’s, complete with dirty martinis, then jetting back to the office in time to defraud a corporate spending account.  The kind of executive that blackmails a co-worker with pictures of a mistress.  The kind of douche bag that tries to take over a rec center to build a mall.  In short, an avarice little asshole.  So, why was it so hot? “It’s… overpowering.”, boy, was that an understatement.  Loki’s whole aesthetic was overpowering right now.  And, was he moving closer? His bent knee brushed against your own as he leaned near enough to be heard at a whisper, “You look adorable, you know that?” Scrunching into the corner of the couch, eyeing him suspiciously, “Oh?  Really?” “Really.”, his hand brushed over your exposed shoulder, making you jump at his touch.

Uh uh.  No way.  You would not be so easy to seduce this time around.  Even if those wide hands sent goosebumps growing all over your body, Loki would not charm his way into your panties again.  Not like last time.

It had been spontaneous.  Genuine, at least for you.  And in the moment, it felt like Loki had given you a little piece of himself, a tenderness that no one else ever saw in the far flung Frost Giant.  

Maybe that's why Clint's words hurt so much.  He had told you so casually, holding up a spoonful of Cheerios, "Loki said his last girl was a drag.  Basic bitch?  Is that what the kids say?"

Thinking about it now made your heart hurt.  You had given yourself to someone who thought you were beneath him.  Loki couldn't want you.  You would never be good enough.

But that night haunted you.  His soulful kisses that stole your breath.  The drag of Loki’s hands over the swell of your bottom as you straddled his hips.  His solid chest under your own hands, dark head curved against the couch cushion, but those burning eyes never leaving your face.  “I thought you said I was plain.  Simple.  Boring.”  

Leveling his own words back at him made Loki straighten in his seat.  How could you think that?  Unbalanced, stammering, “Uh… I… I’d never…” “Never expected me to find out?  I believe that.  And, let me tell you this-”  Pushing yourself up with the help of the couch’s arm, you rose on unsteady legs, “-I’m not nearly drunk enough to fall into your arms again.”  Spinning away, you made a dash towards the people in the kitchen, without looking back. Watching you go, Loki could do nothing but stare after your retreating form, flummoxed.

“That was… painful.”

He knew that voice well enough, frustrated, confused and unfit for company, “Go away, Tony.”

“I don’t think I will.  In fact-” sitting down in your empty spot, patting Loki’s knee, “-I’m going to make myself comfortable.  Now, tell Uncle Tony all about it.”

Rolling his eyes, unable to find you in the crowd, Loki risked a sideways glance at his replacement companion.  Was he really going to indulge in this?  Tell his almost friend about you… about your one night together?  Loki raked his hands through the pomade in his hair, growling low, “If you breathe a word of it Tony, I’ll-” Lowering his wrap around sunglasses, peering at Loki, Tony smiled, “Your secret is safe with me.” ---

Thinking less and less about Loki as the night went on should have been a relief but it seemed like the scent of him followed you everywhere.  Unable to get free of him, you busied yourself with drinks, dancing, and munching like you were a kid again.  Anything to keep your mind from wandering.

It's not like the party was boring.  Not at all!  There was plenty to distract you and you let it.  Natasha made you her partner for beer pong and somehow you successfully won against Rhodey and Sam.  

Next, Wanda needed you, which is how you wound up sitting on the bathroom sink listening to her go on about Vision in that wistful, loving way that made your own heart ache.  Being a little drunk, you had to fight the urge to cry because you were lonely and hurting. “I saw you talking to Loki… what was that about?”  She was reapplying ruby red lipstick, studying herself in the mirror, not looking directly at you.  

Wanda's voice cut through your self doubt spiral though, something you were thankful for, and with a casual tone you countered, “He was trying to get something started, I think.” Eyebrows lifting, Wanda’s interested piqued,  “Really?  Loki was hitting on you?” “Yea… I mean, I think so.  Was coming on awfully strong too.  But… he’s been a jerk, right?”  

Wanda cleaned up her eye make-up taking a minute, after washing her hands she looked at you, “I mean, he is here.” “So?” “So, you know he’s not really a joiner.  More of a lone wolf.  In fact, I think this may be the first of these little parties he’s come to.  Maybe he’s changed… grown a bit?  And, honestly, you never asked him about-”

Hopping off the counter, cutting her off, more than a little huffy at her good sense, “No, I didn’t and I don’t plan to.  Loki thinks I’m a bore?  Too basic for him?  Fine.  I have better things to do with my time.” Laying her hand on your shoulder, Wanda stopped you, eyeing you in the mirror once more, “I know his words hurt… but you’re going to have to clear the air eventually.  Especially if we’re all going to work together.”

Shrugging, you offered your friend a small smile.  There was truth in her sentiment, even if your slightly drunken brain rebelled against hearing it, “Yea, you're right… plus-” looking around the small washroom, just to make sure no one could hear the pair of you, “- he looks really hot tonight!”

Giggling, Wanda hugged you close, “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yea he does!” The pair of you were still laughing together, standing at the back of the crowd as Tony turned down the music, announcing, “Gather round children, Uncle Tony needs your attention!”  There were a few groans, mostly from the beer pong table, as apparently Bucky was unhappy about forfeiting his winning match.  Everyone else, in all their high haired glory, were congregating near their host, curious and more than a little drunk.

“Tony, what the hell, man?  You killed the tunes!”, Clint shouted, spilling Bud Light foam as he joined the tightening circle. “Patience, my drunk friend.  You all remember this?”  From the table nearby, Tony picked up his glass bowl, triumphant, “Our Destiny!”

Pepper, sighing with a smile, “So dramatic!” Shaking the bowl in her direction Tony smirked, “Ok smarty, then you pick first.  Go on… Pick!” There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled Avengers.  Rolling her eyes, Pepper reached in, grabbing the first slip her fingers found.  Pulling it free, she grinned, eyeing Tony, “It says ‘Loki’...” Hearing his name, Loki snapped his head up, surprise registering on his face, “Excuse me?” Holding it up for his examination, Pepper waved the slip under the regal nose of the junior Odinson, “See… your name.” “Yes, but why?”

Butting in, Tony snatched the scrap from the hand of his lovely fiance, practically dancing with glee.  Turning to Loki, “Now you, Gordon Gecko, pull a slip.” Aware of all eyes locked on him, Loki reached into the jar, digging around a little more than necessary.  Finally satisfied, the thin paper pinched between his fingers, Loki opened the folded note.  When his fierce gaze met yours, you knew without a doubt.  It was your name he had grabbed. Throwing a thick arm across Loki’s broad shoulders, Tony hugged him close, “Well?  What’s it say?” It all made sense in that moment.  The tacky costumes, flat beer and endless music.  A drunken moment of clarity had descended.  Tony, waving his arms, eating up the crowd’s reactions, heads turning to gauge your response.  Swallowing hard, your hearing failing you, you just faked a smile. You and Loki were going into the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Only there was no way you were going to do that.  Not after what he’d said.  Not after your one night together, right?  But you felt a gentle hand pushing your forward, into the center of your circle of friends and for some reason, your feet followed.  

Refusing didn't enter your mind.  With everyone ogling you and Loki, making a scene would only cause more speculation, something you weren't keen to do.  Instead, you stepped next to Tony, outwardly eager to play along.  

You just shouldn't have dared to look at your proposed make out partner.  Laser focused, Loki’s lusty look hadn’t wavered.  No, the light in those thundering blue eyes was carnal, darker than you had ever seen, matching your own.  Against your better judgement, you wanted Loki, too.

Whatever Tony was saying was a blur, merely sounds, because you were utterly stunned by the nearness of Loki.  The roaring laughs of the rest of the group were drowned out by your pounding heart.  A door opened to a dim room, the pantry maybe?  You didn’t know and in that moment you didn’t really care. 

With a small smile, Loki ducked into the cupboard, lacing his fingers with yours, offering a bit of his strength.  Dragging you inside, your body pinned between a shelf of snacks and the hard body of your frenemy, a whimper of want passed your lips.  Loki still smelled so good and now he was so close.  “Have fun you two!”, Tony’s words were accompanied by the door shutting you and Loki inside, in the dark.  Surrounded by silence, Loki’s sharp pants were the only sound louder than your racing pulse, which was saying something. Afraid to move, afraid of spooking you, Loki struggled to search your stare in the low light.  He had already experienced your angry dismissal of his attention tonight.  It wasn't something he wanted to relive, not when you were so close with sweet and speedy breath, your chest brushing against his own at each exhale.

Lifting a hand, grazing over your uncovered shoulder, Loki's touch was electric.  You moved towards it, towards him, needing more of his energy.  Craving it.

Bold in the dark, you grabbed at Loki’s suspenders, tugging him closer.  Rising on your toes, covering some of the distance between your mouth and his, you pressed a hot kiss to those soft, pink lips.  Under your fluttering fingers Loki shivered, "Darling-"

"Shut up.  I… I don't care."

"But I never…"

"I told you.  I don't care.  Now kiss me like you mean it, because we only have about six more minutes!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Loki found the flare of your hips in the shadows, molding your curves to the rigid planes of his body.  Desperate, needy, you felt his tongue move against your own.  Want, plain and simple, led your own fingers to the collar of Loki’s starched shirt and the tangle of his raven hair. Fisting it, tugging against those luscious locks, you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the tall God sharing your cupboard.  Whining, his name on your lips, you drew Loki tight enough that the press of your breasts was edging towards pain.  Demanding, true to your word, with every pass of Loki’s magical mouth over your own the last few weeks were forgotten. Hungry for more, Loki roughly squeezed the flesh of your ass, grinding you against his wool blend covered crotch.  Stuttering, his arousal was so stiff, for a minute Loki worried about making a mess.  But that feeling was replaced with unbridled ecstasy when your lips found the tender skin below his ear.  

A nip, enough to make Loki hiss, was soon soothed by your sucking on the same spot.  Resting your butt on the nearest shelf, you didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to reach the soft, sweet sections of Loki where you longed to lavish attention.  He took advantage of your new position by sliding a free hand along the swell of your separated thighs.  “I just need to feel you, dove.  I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.”  It was a husky whisper, directly into your ear, and it sent an arc of icy fire to your core.  When his long fingers skimmed over the silky slick of your panties you moaned in unison, bucking into Loki’s touch, lost in the moment. Stepping between your legs, Loki took one of your hands into each of his own, pinning you wide open against the boxes of cereal and granola bars that lined the pantry walls.  Devouring you slowly, Loki kissed along the column of muscles at your throat, across the exposed line of your clavicle.  You could do little more than take his delicious torment as more and more of your sweat dappled skin was serviced by his silver tongue. “Yes… Loki…”, tumbling out of you, just like the night when you first came together, you crooned his name in delight.  Breathless, boneless and broken with need. CLICK!  The sound made you both freeze.  Snapping swiftly, Loki’s head swung towards the door where the bright light and noisy crowd of the party was intruding into your private pantry. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!  What do we have here?”  Swinging into the tight space, Tony’s shrewd look took in the scene in seconds, “What were you two doing in here?  It was a very quiet seven minutes!” Straightening to standing, Loki stood, blocking you from sight as you readjusted your clothes.  Smoothing down his tangled strands, sarcasm dripping, “Talking.  Very quietly.”  When he was sure you were decent, Loki offered you his hand, and blinking you stepped back into the wild and raucous party still in full swing.  Tony, flashing a knowing grin your way, nodded, “I hope you didn’t smush the chips!  We still need those!” Giggling, you locked onto Loki’s arm, letting him lead you towards the keg and away from the shouted questions of your friends.  You knew there was no mystery about what happened in those seven minutes.  Hair mused, makeup smudged, lips swollen and shirts twisted, the pair of you were walking neon signs for getting to third base.

Silently Loki poured you a beer, taking a small glass of Asgardian mead for himself, before raising his glass your way.  Returning his gesture, you downed the frothy ale fast, feeling a little parched after your spit swapping time in the hall closet.  Boring into you, his eyes followed each of your movements, searching for a sign of your feelings. Dropping your empty cup on the counter, you turned and jumped onto the marble ledge, feet dangling.  “Loki?” Placing his own glass down gently, Loki took his position between your bent knees, looking down at your darling face, “Yes?” “Did you say those things?  That I was… boring?  Basic?” Shaking his dark waves no, Loki bit into his bottom lip, “Never.  What I said was, my last girl, ages ago, was those things… but my new lady-” tracing along your jaw, tipping your chin his way, “-she is everything I could ever want.”

“Am I… am I your new lady, then?” With a fierce flicker of fire in his eyes, Loki nodded yes this time, “Absolutely.” Leaning into him, arms around his neck, you tugged him down to meet your waiting lips.  “Good.  Good to know.  Because I think I’m going to watch a movie tonight.” “Really?  I recall really enjoying the last one.” “Hmm… me too.”  Sliding off the counter, ducking under Loki’s long arms, you turned back to face him, “My room… say, an hour?”

Snapping his suspenders, smirking, “I’ll be there.”  Watching you skip away made Loki’s pulse pound in anticipation.  Pouring himself another glass of clear liquor, he chuckled, amazed at the change seven minutes had created.  

“You’re welcome.” “Ah!  Yes, many thanks Tony.”  

Leaning against the counter, Tony knocked into Loki’s shoulder, “You’re cute together, Rock of Ages, but don’t make me regret helping you tonight!  Treat her right.”

“Of course.  I... truly, thank you.”, sincerity seeped from Loki at the favor from Tony. “No worries!  No worries!”  Waving away any additional gratitude, Tony looked over the group of half cocked, and totally cocked heroes before him, “Of course the real bitch was getting Pepper to pull your name from the bowl…”

My Marvelous Minxes tag-list:  @queenofmischief @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco​

[lightjenvlp]

With Eyes Open

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You won’t come out of your room and Dean’s worried about you. He convinces you to open up and let him in.

Warnings: loneliness, not eating, family losses, slight depression, lack of self care.

Word count: 1,574

A/N: Based on feelings about my grandparents, named after this song. (Exaggerated things for plot.)

You’ve been hiding inside your room the last two days, after you, Sam, and Dean got back from the recent hunt. An older couple was killed by the time the three of you had arrived to town. Turns out the granddaughter had been turned into a werewolf and ate their hearts.

The situation reminds you too much of your own grandparents passing. Similar to the murdered couple, yours had died in bed together, already asleep when they’d passed. Now back at the bunker, all you can see behind your eyelids is your grandparents’ funeral, the roses on the coffins and your tears blurring your vision.

It’s been almost three years since their death, but it feels like yesterday. This case brought back thoughts you’d kept buried for so long. You’d hidden your grief from Dean and Sam as well as you could during the case, but as soon as you were able, you locked yourself inside your bedroom.

The last two days had consisted of you crying into your pillow until it was soaked, chest aching so much it hurt to breathe. You stayed as quiet as possible, struggling in the silence of your room. The boys tried to convince you to come out and eat, but you ignored their pleas.

Your lights stayed off, the room consumed in darkness. Tear tracks dried on your cheeks, and you couldn’t bother to change out of your clothes from two days ago. The consuming pain of loss filled you with grief and loneliness. Your grandparents had meant everything to you, and there was no way to describe life without them, except empty.

Dean and Sam had found you about a year and a half ago, your parents killed by a wendigo. They taught you how to hunt and get past the loss. They gave you a new home and a new family. Over the last few months, you’ve grown closer to Dean, and him to you. Sam is like your brother you never had, but Dean feels different. Your relationship has always been farther advanced.

Tap tap tap. Someone’s knocking on your bedroom door and you sniff. Your nose is stuffed from crying so much and your stomach hurts from lack of food. Your eyes stay shut, no point in opening them since it’s pitch black.

“y/n?”

It’s Dean.

“y/n, it’s me.” He pauses. “I just want to know you’re okay. You’ve been in there two days and I’m going insane.”

His feet shuffle behind the door, causing the lit space below the door to move.

“Let me in, please.” You breathe in shaky. Memories with your grandparents flash through your mind and it pulls the air from your lungs. “Please, y/n. I need you with me.”

How your body has any tears left, you don’t know. As they fall down your face and over your nose, your lips release a sob.

“y/n?” Dean’s voice is filled with concern as he stands behind the door. He tries the knob but it’s locked. “y/n please open the door!” He tries the knob again, but it’s futile to try.

You squeeze your eyes shut and tug your hair in agony. You want to open the door but you don’t want him seeing you like this; matted hair, puffy eyes, tear tracks, not eating.

“I’ll break the door down.” He says. “Please.” He pleads. His hand stays wrapped around the doorknob. You barely have energy to pull yourself up, much less stand. When you do, you sway side to side. You can’t see anything in the dark, only the line of light under the door. Stumbling towards it, your hand reaches for the door, making contact with the wood.

Dean must’ve heard you cause he doesn’t speak or bust down the door. Your shaky hand finds the doorknob and twists the lock. Turning the handle, the door creaks as it opens to the hallway. You squint at the increasing light coming through the opening, eyes adjusting.

You stare at Dean, a few inches from you, his face folded in worry and shock at your appearance. You take a breath, barely holding yourself up in his presence. He starts to move towards you - the faintest move of his arm - before he pauses, as if you’ll disappear when he touches you.

His mouth opens. “y/n?” He whispers and your face displays your grief. Your legs crumple, and you fall into his embrace as he catches you, his strong arms wrapping around your figure.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay.” He speaks in a hushed tone. “You’re alright, I’ve gotcha.”

He lowers you to the floor, carefully positioning your back against the bunker wall, your feet in front of you, him to your right. Gently leaning your head back, his fingers move across your face and head as soft as butterfly wings. Tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks and running his fingers through your greasy hair, you breathe in deep.

“That’s it, sweetheart, breathe for me. I’ll be right back, alright?” You nod as he stands up and begins his jog back down one of the bunker’s many hallways. You breathe in and out and try to make yourself look a bit more presentable even though there’s no point.

When Dean returns with Sam on his heels, the older brother is carrying a washcloth, a pair of sweats, and one of his sleep shirts. Sam seems to have come from the kitchen, carrying toast, and a glass of water.

“Hey, y/n, how ya feeling?” Sam asks, squatting next to you and setting the food down, eyes filled with concern. You give him a watery smile and your chest aches again as a tear slips down your face. Dean squats in front of you and uses the warm washcloth to pat your sticky face free of the tears accumulated over the last two days.

“That’s okay, y/n.” Sam smiles gently. “We all have tough days. You’ll get through this.” He says. You reach out for his hand and he grabs yours in his, squeezing softly.

“y/n, do you think you can eat and drink something for us?” Dean asks calmer than when he first saw you in the hallway.

You nod, your throat begging for water. Dean picks up the glass, carefully brining it to your lips. You gulp down half before he stops you so you don’t get sick. “Good. Try to eat a bit of toast, too, darling.”

After you eat half of the piece of toast, Dean picks you up and helps you to the bathroom, running a bath before washing your hair and helping you into his clean sweats and sleep shirt. He takes you to his room, where Sam put the refilled water and remaining toast.

Helping you into the covers, Dean silently observes you with his eyes. You haven’t said a word since he came to your door earlier in the day. Making sure you’re comfortable, he changes into his own T-shirt and sleep shorts before climbing in bed next to you.

You initiate the embrace, moving closer and burying your face in his chest as his warm arms wrap around your body once more. He places a light kiss on your head and rubs your back, his calloused fingers tracing circles through your shirt.

“I’ve got you.” He whispers in your ear. He holds you for the longest time; your breathing evens out and you slowly melt into his hold, closing your tired eyes. You don’t fall asleep. The darkness consumes you and your body feels like it might implode.

“De-“ Your voice cracks. “Dean?” It’s the first thing you’ve said all day.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” The hunter replies, shocked to hear you talking.

Tears fill your eyes and you feel ashamed for locking yourself away from the brothers without any explanation.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks as tears fall down your cheeks and just barely seep into Dean’s shirt. His hand moves to your jaw and gently pulls your face from his chest. You look at him with watery eyes.

“y/n, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. I’m not mad, Sam’s not mad.” He says and you nod your head. His mouth turns up into a small smile and it reassures you. You look away at one of the bedrooms walls, wiping your tears with your thumb.

“My grandparents,” you start but your throat clenches. “They passed almost three years ago. I just...the hunt...it...they died in their sleep.” A pained noise escapes your throat and Dean sighs, realizing. He grabs your hands in his.

“The hunt brought back memories.” He says and you nod, sniffling, looking down at the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you’ve been struggling with this.”

You squeeze his hands gently and look into his eyes.

“It’s not your fault. I pushed it down and never dealt with it. It was bound to come out some time.” You let go of his hands and wrap your arms around his waist, tucking your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Your warm breath tickles his skin. “Thank you for taking care of me Dean.”

“I’ll always be here y/n. Your pain is valid and I love you so much.” He replies, holding your body to his and breathing you in, glad you’re with him now.

“I love you too, Dean.” You smile softly.

With Dean, you’ll be able to fight through the pain and find the light.

[corruptedconfessions]

????Shigaraki x reader

Thanks @shorkbrian for letting me write your idea!

Day 8???? I think. This was meant to be either a sleep paralysis demon work or a incubus work, but uh, im indecisive so he could be either uwu its up to your interpretation!

This is another gender neutral one! Be prepared for a male reader tomorrow~

Warnings: noncon, sleep paralysis, just general gross creepy Shigaraki vibes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft hum of your vibrator filled your room along with your soft gasps and moans, your body was stretched out across your sheets, legs spread slightly as you rocked down onto the toy buried deep inside of you. It was on low for now, you were exhausted, worn down and strung thin from a long stressful day, you weren’t in the mood for higher vibrations. You were enjoying the soft headspace you were in, nuzzled deep in your pillows with gentle thrums of pleasure rolled through you, soft and sweet.

You gasped, moaning softly as you rolled your hips down, gasping and arching off the bed as you trembled softly, riding out your orgasm. Even while rocking down onto your vibrator, gasping and whining that soft warm feeling never left you, leaving you loose and relaxed against the sheets.

You were so comfortable you didn’t even notice the figure slinking out of your closet, sliding across the room to the foot of your bed as you melted back against the sheets, mewling softly as you rode out the gentle aftershocks of pleasure.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your hand drifted down, reaching down to turn the vibrator off and fully fall asleep. Only to jump in surprise, gasping in shock when a cold clammy hand clamped around your wrist, another grabbing the base of your vibrator, shoving it deeper inside of you as the vibrator was turned all the way up to the highest setting.

You squealed loudly, trying to jerk away, trying to open your eyes, to do anything, but you found yourself frozen. Unable to move away from the touches, unable to open your eyes and look down at your attacker.

More cries and gasps fell from your lips as the freezing cold hand around your wrist tightened, the other hand twisting the vibrator deep inside of you as it started fucking you hard with it. You couldn’t even shake or squirm away from the pleasure as you were pounded open, the vibrations feeling so good against your already sensitive and abused walls.

It was only a few minutes before you found yourself whimpering, crying out sweetly again as you came a second time, tightening down on the vibrator and squealing when it only made the vibrations against your sensitive walls all the more pleasurable. You were fucked through your orgasm, left feeling raw and on edge as it kept going continuing to fuck your sensitive and trembling hole as you cried out and whimpered desperately, wanting it to stop but unable to lift a finger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

You weren’t sure how long you were left like that, crying and whimpering through orgasm after orgasm, held tight and fucked silly. You must have blacked out at some point since the next thing you knew you were waking up, groaning weakly against the rays of light shining in your face.

You glanced down at yourself, finding yourself fully clothed again, tucked into your blankets perfectly…too perfectly. Your gaze slid to your bedside drawer where your vibrator sat innocently, sitting in the exact place you always put it when you were finished and ready to pass out.

Had it all been a dream?

You pulled your blankets back, stumbling out of bed, groaning softly. Your entire lower half felt sore, insides still twitching and pulsing like they usually did right after cumming, not hours later. Maybe you had gotten too worried up and fucked yourself silly before dreaming up that weird dream?

Your eyes drifted to your closet, the door was slightly cracked open, and a cold chill ran down your spine. Still, you had to get ready for work, you didn’t have time to stand in one place and daydream about what might or might not be hiding in your closet. You had a job to do and you needed to focus!

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Despite saying you needed to focus you found yourself drifting the whole day, mind drifting back to the night before with a red face, squeezing your legs together as you tried to get back to your task only to find your mind drifting again only moments later.

The day seemed to drag on and race by at the same time, before you knew it you were crawling into bed. You had briefly eyed your vibrator from the night before but quickly shook your head, you were still so sensitive from the night before that despite the throb of need that pulsed through you. You felt so sensitive the idea of cumming again almost felt painful, so you curled up into bed, pulling your blankets tight around your shoulders as you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep.

Only for your eyes to snap awake when you felt a hand wrapped around your ankle. You gasped, jumping out of your skin, trying to jerk your leg away from the touch, sit up, do anything! But you found yourself frozen, staring down in shock as a figure melted out of the darkness, climbing up your bed with an unsettling grin. Greasy light blue hair hung in front of his face as bright red eyes stared up at you.

You whimpered softly in confusion as he pulled your blankets back, cracked dry hands grabbing your hips, lifting them off the bed as he pulled your pajama bottoms and panties off. You could only watch in confusion as he lifted your legs up, spreading them wide, eyes locked onto your still puffy hole.

“Slut.”

You jumped gasping softly in shock when he spoke, briefly lifting his eyes to meet your gaze before they fell down to your entrance. He let go of one of your legs just to slide it down to his own pants, unbuckling his belt and fumbling with his jeans. You could only watch with wide eyes as he pulled out his already hard cock, stroking it for a moment before his hand roughly grabbed your thigh again, pushing your legs up higher as he lined himself up.

“Thanks for the meal~”

His rough raspy voice felt like sandpaper against your ears as he pushed in, popping inside you easily. You gasped in shock, twitching and clenching down on him as he purred, grinning down at you in a way that had your stomach rolling, anxiety spiking as he pushed your legs up higher, starting to move.

Despite the fear and adrenaline pouring through your body pleasure crashed through you, loud moans and squeals pouring from your mouth as he fucked you.

You’re face was hot in shame as you stared down at him, unable to look away or move at all just like the previous night. You were shaking and moaning, practically falling apart at the seams and he was just watching you with a bored expression, staring intently at you as he thrust his hips deeper. The slightest hint of a smirk crossed his face when your eyes rolled back for a moment, a loud squeal echoing through the room.

You hadn’t even cum yet and you were falling apart, it felt like your very bones were shaking as you whimpered and cried up at him, head spinning. Every smack of his hips against yours felt like a physical hit to your head, energy draining out of you rapidly. You whimpered, groaning as your stomach rolled with neasua as red eyes eyed you, an irritated scowl crossing his face.

“Out of juice already? Damn low level, you need to up your stamina stat.”

He clicked his tongue angrily, pulling away from you, ignoring your weak whimper as he pulled out, unceremoniously dropping your legs back to the bed. You grunted softly in pain, still unable to move from where he had just thrown your legs down. Everything was spinning, white spots dancing across your vision as your body trembled. It felt like your limbs had been replaced with lead, like every single ounce of energy you had ever had had been sucked right out of you.

“At least you taste good.”

You flinched whimpering as he leaned down, dragging a tongue across your cheek, patting your hair lightly before turning around.

“Make sure to rest up, ill be back tomorrow night for the rest of my meal~”

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 7)

Title: An Arena to Watch Your Sins Fight (will they ever be free?)

Summary:  Purpled wakes up, and they have a discussion on where he'd been. (he hates his past) Ranboo looks around and realizes that this family is the best thing to happen to its members. (he needs it, too) Puffy snitches on how much Sam actually cares. (she does, as well) (and sam? sam finally snaps. but they don't have to know about that)

Part 1 Part 8 Masterlist

_______

Purpled woke up a day later. It was unexpected, mainly because he just… woke up out of nowhere. It had been a pretty slow day until that point, then he stumbled out of the room that he’d been put in, eyes glossy and breath panicked. 

Sam stood up immediately. “Whoa, hey, buddy. Are you okay? What are you doing up?”

Purpled had just looked up at him, no recognition in his eyes. “What..? Where am I?”

“You’re at my base, in the Dream SMP. Do you remember who I am?” Sam asked, putting an arm around him and guiding him to the couch. He removed his arm quickly though, at the flinch from Purpled.

“Yeah… you’re Sam, but… how did I get away?” 

“Get away from what?” Ranboo asked, just entering the room. “Fundy and I were hanging out in the woods and you just collapsed in front of us.”

Purpled appeared to get agitated. “I… Why’d they let me go?”

“Who?” Sam said softly. There was no response. “Hey, just start at the beginning if you want to, okay? Where were you… let’s start with what you remember, okay? What’s the first thing you remember?”

He gulped. “I remember Tommy and Tubbo leaving to… to go fight Dream. They were going to say goodbye to everyone, but I didn’t show up.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Purp, that was years ago.”

The younger man nodded. “Yeah. I, uh, I left after that because I didn’t want to be there… I didn’t want to be there when Dream brought their bodies back.” Ranboo had left, and brought back the rest of the people who lived there. Purpled looked shocked to see Tommy and Tubbo. “How did you survive?”

Tommy shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell you later. What’s going on?”

“He’s telling us where he’s been.” Sam said, and motioned for Purpled to continue. “Go ahead.”

“I… I went to the Bedwars server to try and clear my mind a bit, get some practice. Take a break from this SMP, and such, but after one of the games…” He started shaking a bit, and Sam wanted to hug him, but held back. If the other physical contact was any indication, Purpled wouldn't appreciate it.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

He still did. The memories were coming back, faster now. He almost wished they didn’t, because they weren’t pleasant. “After one of the games, a group of men approached me.”

____________

Purpled sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. It had been a tough game, and he was tired. He just wanted to go home, wherever that was. Did he even have one? He wandered over to collect his prize, though he’d probably end up giving it to someone else since he didn’t really need it. It’d just get stolen from one of his chests in the SMP, anyway.

After, he stumbled towards the lobby with the intent of joining another game. He probably should’ve stopped a while ago. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop what happened next. 

Three men went up to him while he caught his breath on a bench. One of them had a long beard, and he was the one who spoke. “You look pretty tired, ay? I saw you fighting though, you look like a pro for someone so young.”

Purpled straightened his posture in an effort to look somewhat lively. “I’m not that tired. Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”

One of the others, the one with a sick moustache, held out a water bottle. “Here, you want a drink?”

His mind was already foggy enough that he didn’t remember all of the warnings that he’d been told since he was young of the group that kidnapped Bedwars players to make them compete in illegal fighter rings. Purpled took the water, drinking it. Almost immediately, his legs started to give out. What kind of a potion was the water laced with?

“Whoa there, let me help you.”

Purpled didn’t know which one said that. He feebly tried hitting at them, but he could barely move. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t. His nerves were going haywire, someone was taking his arm, he had to move-” 

He blacked out.

He woke up in a cell, and as his mind slowly came back to him, the panic set in. He knew the answers to all his questions, but he didn’t like it. It seemed like ages, but at some point, someone finally came to see him.

“Purpled, ay?” It was the one with the beard. He chuckled at Purpled’s silence. “Not much of a talker, huh? Well, I hope you’re more of a fighter in the arena than you were when we grabbed you, otherwise I might have to get a new source for information.”

“What?” 

The beard-man smiled. “Ah, he speaks! Well, I’ve got a source that told me you were a formidable competitor, and wouldn’t be all that missed, so having a fighter from the famous Dream SMP will bring in the big bucks. I’m taking chances with you, none of the others wanted to nab a kid. Somethin’ about morals.”

Purpled scowled. “What happens if I refuse to fight, or if someone comes to find me?”

“I don’t think that you’ll find either of those an issue. We’re well secluded, and if you don’t fight, well,” The beard-man held a sword to Purpled’s throat. “Suddenly it won’t be much of my issue, anyway, will it?”

Purpled swallowed thickly and fell silent. He hoped someone would look for him, maybe. 

They didn’t. 

Each competition was it’s own little hell. He tried to fight the first time he was brought out of the cell, but they learned that it was just easier to drug him. He’d wake up in a base, in an arena surrounded by an audience, and when the shrill alarm went off, the fighting began. The first few times, Purpled would refuse to fight, but he learned that the pain that came afterward wasn’t worth it. He grew used to looking away from his opponents. He hated seeing the light dim, knowing what they would go through for failing to win.

Better them than him, though. In this world, it was kill or be tortured. He was never given the luxury of death to dull the pain. 

He quickly rose in the ranks, challenging the best fighters in this underground arena. As he improved, so did the security. He learned to only use enough of his abilities to win. He’d let them underestimate him, because if no one was coming to rescue him, he’d have to do it himself. 

The first time he tried to escape was during a competition. About half-way through, when security was the weakest, he barged through the doors and overpowered the guards. He got pretty far, but he was tackled and hauled back to his cell in a muzzle and a straitjacket. He wasn’t given food for a while. He wasn’t even visited. 

The next time he saw someone, it was when they grabbed him to fight again. They had kept him constrained, so they didn’t bother with the drugs, which he liked. He felt alive again. 

He tried to get away again, and though he was stronger, the security was better. He managed to exit the stadium, only to be shot down. He was dragged back to his cell by his hair, which was greasy and dirty by now. They’d taken the arrow out of his leg, but they weren’t too gentle about it and didn’t bother bandaging it. He spent that night shivering, hands still bound, wondering if this was where he died, in a puddle of his own blood.

A medic came the next morning. They couldn’t have their biggest source of money dead, but they could let him suffer. 

He won the next competition, and the one after that, and the one after that. He didn’t hesitate anymore. It wasn’t worth it. He was hurt for any pausing of his blade, and it was just easier to win. 

Purpled became the crowd favorite. The noise of their cheers hurt his ears, and soon, he was broken. He came out of his cell willingly, he wasn’t tied up for movement, he just walked with his guards to the arena. He barely remembered life before the fighting ring.

It was only after he blacked out during a competition, woke up surrounded by bodies and liked it, that he realized he needed to leave. He would lose himself if he stayed any longer, and he was all he had left.

He started putting a plan together, but it took time for him to finally escape. He started blacking out more, waking up victorious. He started smiling at the bloodstains on his clothes. He hated himself for it. He knew his opponents would just respawn, but the punishment they faced for losing would be worse than death. 

Everything started to be worse than death. Maybe even life. 

Purpled took a different approach to escape the third time. It was years after he’d been taken. He doubted anyone outside even knew his name anymore. He waited until he’d won the competition to start going through the doors. They only sent one guard, because they thought he was compliant. 

He walked slowly, as if defeated. When he saw the big double doors, he sprinted. He had a head start, and the guard was taken by surprise. He took out a knife that he’d bought and hidden, and when he heard the footsteps behind him as he approached the portal to leave the arena, he held it out.

He spoke for the first time in what felt like forever. His voice was gravelly. “I know how much I am to you.” He flipped the blade to rest against his side. A stab there wouldn’t be fatal, but anything else would. They wouldn’t be able to hurt him if he stabbed himself, because they would risk him respawning alone, while everyone was here. “No one get closer, or I’ll do it.”

Purpled stepped into the portal. He set his destination as the Dream SMP. Maybe he’d be safe there. 

He made it pretty far until he heard someone chasing him. He didn’t hesitate, and plunged the blade into his side. It hurt like a bitch, but he needed to escape. Adrenaline flooded his body as the blood flowed out, and he heard a voice yell at everyone to stop running after him. If he died and respawned, they’d need people back in the Bedwars server to catch him. 

Purpled ran into the nearest forest he could find, hoping to lose the people still chasing him. He must’ve succeeded, and then he was just running blindly with no destination. 

His side was bleeding still, and his head was starting to become fuzzy again. Distantly, he heard voices, but they sounded soft. Not harsh. He took his chances and stumbled towards them. 

He emerged from the trees, and could feel himself fall. The voices sounded miles away, but he heard his name. The darkness called to him, and this time, he had hope that it would be better when he woke up.

_____________

“And, yeah. Then I woke up here.” Purpled laughed nervously. 

Sam exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe no one noticed how long you’d been gone. I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized.”

Purpled shrugged. “Not really your fault.”

It was silent for a moment, and Ranboo couldn’t help but sympathize with Purpled. He’d heard stories of the illegal fighting, but he never thought he’d know someone affected by it. He was horrified. 

As he looked around the room, Ranboo realized that so was everyone else. He was a very good noticer, he liked to think. He saw that everyone in the room was messed up in their own ways, but their dysfunctional family was a place for them to find comfort, recovery, and peace.

He saw it in Fundy, in the way that he always made himself smaller when someone raised their voice, and how he never liked to be left alone in the house, but he loved to curl up at the foot of one of the beds in the bedroom that everyone shared despite there being plenty of others. 

He saw it in Tommy and Tubbo and the way their eyes would get glassy while they dreamed and show reflections of battlefields and violence. He saw every time Tubbo woke up with a gasp from dreams colored red, white, and blue, and reached for Tommy. Tubbo would begin preening Tommy’s wings for comfort, slow and meticulously. Tommy always let his family touch his wings, but anyone else would get snarled at. When Tommy woke up to Tubbo petting his feathers, he always would wrap one around the smaller boy and snuggle back into the blankets. Their breathing was softer after that, when they clung to the other as if they would disappear. 

He saw it in Purpled, especially, in the next few days. Purpled always froze when someone touched him, and insisted on getting his own food, but he fit into the family dynamic well. He liked movie nights especially, particularly stupid comedies that made him laugh. Purpled let down his guard in the walls of Sam’s house, and didn’t feel the need to constantly be armed. He wasn’t scared of blacking out or liking the smell of blood.

He even saw it in himself. He wasn’t worried about being abandoned again, he wasn’t scared of his powers. He might forget to speak English in the mornings every now and then, he might wake up crying and need help to stop, but he let himself fall into the embrace of his family when he needed the help. There was always someone to help me.

He maybe saw it in Sam the most. No one was completely sure of Sam’s past, but the way he hissed every time someone startled him, or tried to hide how he coughed up gunpowder occasionally probably had something to do with it. Sam was so focused on building, whether it be with materials or a safe family, that there had to be something in his past with destruction. No one asked, though. They just leaned against his shoulder whenever he wedged himself on the couch between them.

Ranboo’s mind wandered further. He hadn’t seen Puffy or Niki in a few days, and though he wasn’t concerned, he missed them. 

“I think I’m going to see Puffy this afternoon. Does anyone want to come with me?” He asked, breaking the lengthy silence that had settled over the room. They were all just lounging, but Sam was looking out the window towards the woods. He was letting out a soft sizzling noise, and walked towards the door.

“I don’t think so, Ran. You wanna walk with me a little bit, though?” Sam asked, and Ranboo got up to follow.

“What you looking at, big man?” Ranboo asked, trying to ignore how Tommy was rubbing off on him.

“Oh, just thought I saw something that I want to double check, and you’re going this way anyway.”

They reached the edge of the forest, and Sam held out a hand to make Ranboo stop walking. He looked around a little, then lunged towards one of the bushes. He came out with one hand grasped around the collar of a man with a large moustache. 

“So you were the one I heard the other day. Are you one of the people who were hunting Purpled?” Sam hissed, and Ranboo knew his throat was burning with the feeling of gunpowder. 

The man flinched at the harshness of Sam’s voice. “I was just looking for him. He’s been staying with us for a while and he ran off, we were hoping you knew where he went?”

Sam crouched and squinted. “How much of an idiot do you think I am?” Ranboo was surprised at the coldness in Sam’s voice. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you right here for how much you hurt him. You’re lucky I don’t just slit your throat for coming here and threatening the safety of my family.”

The man cowered. “He doesn’t have any family. I don’t even know who you are.”

Sam laughed, but it wasn’t the kind one that Ranboo knew. This chuckle was harsh and unforgiving. “You wouldn’t have a reason to. I tend to stay in the shadows until something needs to be done. I suggest you leave now, and I suggest you don’t come back.”

Ranboo liked to think that he knew what Sam was planning on. So, once Sam had stood back up and let the man go, he asked, “How long of a head start are you giving him?”

Sam laughed and started leaving. “Not long.”

(Sam was gone for awhile. They got the news a few days later that someone had gotten into one of the fighting rings and dismantled the entire operation. No one was sure how, nor who it was. One was dead: the man with the long beard. There were small holes from explosions, and the air smelled of gunpowder. No one would come for Purpled after that.)

Ranboo shrugged and continued on his journey, eventually finding himself on the steps of Puffy and Niki’s house. He knocked on the door, and Niki opened it with a smile and pulled him into a hug. “Hey, Boo! It’s been a hot minute, where’ve you been?” 

“Just hanging out! Tubbo, Fundy, and Purpled have joined us, so the bedroom is getting a little crowded.”

Puffy walked over as Ranboo was ushered into the house. “Didn’t he spend an entire day renovating his base to have bedrooms for all of you guys though? I remember he showed me blueprints and they all had names on them.”

Ranboo paused. “You mean… He planned on housing us?”

Puffy shrugged. “Yeah, it was either him or me. We figured all you guys deserve a break, some peace, after all you’ve been through.”

Ranboo hummed. “Interesting.”

“Just don’t bring it up to him, though.” Niki piped up. “He’ll never admit to it. Too humble. Tea?”

“Yes, please, dear!” Puffy said, and Ranboo said he’d have some too. It was incredibly domestic, just sitting at the dining room table, sipping tea, and talking about everything. Niki mentioned how she was working on a garden, and Puffy said she was going to make an apiary, so Ranboo sat and listened to them chatting. 

He told them about the new additions to the family, and they said they’d have to bake cookies for them or something. They ended up making brownies that afternoon, and Ranboo helped. By the time they finished, it was dark, so the two women convinced Ranboo to stay the night and they’d go with him to deliver the brownies in the morning.

When the group of three did go back to Sam’s house, they stayed for most of the day. Why would they leave, when the couch was so comfy, and the laughs were plenty, and Tommy’s wings needed preening?

[ohpretty-baby]

midnight cereal

⇥pairing: jeon jungkook x reader ; established relationship

⇥synopsis: “it’s a little too late for breakfast” ; aka jungkook realizes that it’s the little things that makes him fall deeper for you

⇥genre: f l u f f

⇥warnings: cursing

⇥word count: 3.5k

i promise i’m not dead haha online schooling is just a pain

i’m working on some more fics i promise !! anyway here’s a gguk oneshot bc i thought abt it randomly when i was watching tv and eating cereal as a late night snack (creative, right?)

if you’re reading this, i love you! stay safe, healthy, and happy always <3

It’s wasn’t your looks that attracted Jungkook. It wasn’t the way your hair framed your face perfectly, or the way your smile made his world turn into deep shades of pink. Nor was it the way your eyes always seemed to twinkle when you looked at him, or how your body fit perfectly in his embrace.

In fact, none of your physical characteristics really mattered to Jungkook. He loved them all, inside and out, with his whole heart, but they weren’t even his favorite parts about you.

When asked: “What do you love most about your partner?” by his fans or the MC host on the show his band was guest starring on, he would find himself drawing a blank. Although he could list almost everything about you (he knew you like the back of his hand, and vice versa), he wasn’t entirely sure what he loved most about you.

In response, he’d just give a big grin and say that he just loved you for you. Everyone would coo at his answer, and the even bigger grin he flashed showed to the audience that he was satisfied with his own words.

But, in reality, he’d often spend the rest of the day figuring out how to answer the question. He’d stare at whatever his eyes could land on and just list every single thing about you in order to figure out what was his favorite.

He’d think about how you’d always subconsciously snuggle into him while you were sleeping, or how you’d always look so focused and adamant on beating him in Mario Kart, even though you both know that he would win at the very last minute.

He always got the blue shell, after all.

He thought about how you always looked amazing in whatever you wore, whether it be a velvet cocktail dress that emphasized your body perfectly or just his hoodie and that old pair of sweatpants you always wore even though there were a few holes here and there.

He’d remember all the times you surprised him by taking him out on a date, even though he knows that he’s supposed to do that for you. He’d also remember you always telling him not to worry about such things and that you should be allowed to spoil him sometimes too.

Then he’d reminisce on how ecstatic you’d look when he bought you anything. Whether it was a simple keychain from a tourist attraction or an elegant necklace from a designer brand neither of you could pronounce, he’d always be showered in your kisses of gratitude when he gave you gifts.

The first time he gave you a gift, it wasn’t anything special.

Well, to him, it wasn’t.

In fact, he was quite disappointed in himself for his poor choosing and his procrastination. He was about to come home from a world tour, and he wanted to get you souvenirs from almost every single country they went to. Unfortunately, they were so busy that he couldn’t get you all the things he wanted to. Even in the airports, he couldn’t go to the gift shops because he might be tackled by a fan. And when they were able to rest for a few days, Jungkook found himself passing out right after their concerts.

He eventually realized the error of his ways, and tried his best to get gifts in the last countries they were performing in.

As a result, he settled for a nice pen from Japan, a tacky white shirt with the classic slogan “I Love New York”, and matching bracelets from a tourist shop that was from somewhere. To this day he still couldn’t remember what country or state he got those bracelets in.

On the last day, the plane ride home was quite a sad scene. Jungkook’s eyes welled up with tears as his nose, cheeks and the tips of his ears were stained with blotchy tints of red. He rubbed his eyes profusely, trying not to sniffle or sob too loud.

“Shit, Kook, you okay?”

Jimin, who was sitting next to him, had taken out his earbuds and was now patting away Jungkook’s tears with his sleeve. This caught the attention of all the other boys, and soon enough Jungkook was being bombarded with questions. Namjoon gave him a consolatory mint, while Seokjin asked the flight attendant for a glass of water. Yoongi and Hoseok jokingly scolded Jungkook, telling him that he shouldn’t cry because it’ll ruin his image.

They stared at him, necks uncomfortably craning around to get a good look at the boy who was still crying.

“Sorry...” Jungkook mumbled, plopping the mint into his mouth.

They all shushed him, Taehyung reaching over from his seat in front of them to pat and ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

“I didn’t get her the gifts I wanted to,” He sobbed, his head dropping in his hands. More tears flowed out of his eyes. He’d never felt more disappointed in himself ever in his life.

Jimin let out a small chuckle before pinching his cheek.

“He’s all grown up now,” Jimin said to Taehyung in a teasing lilt. Taehyung snickered, shaking his head.

“Stop,” Jungkook whined, looking up and glaring at him.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” Jimin put an earbud in one of his ears before speaking, “She looks at you like you’re her entire world.”

Jungkook felt himself blush at Jimin’s statement.

“I’m sure just seeing you would be enough for her.”

Jimin was right that day.

Your reaction to Jungkook returning was overwhelming enough.

That day you broke out in tears of joy upon seeing him in the airport. You ran into his arms, snuggling deeply into his chest.

The car ride home, you were still emotional, driving down the highways teary-eyed. He laughed at your pout you had while he teased you, his eyes slightly droopy as the flight was tiring.

Soon, he fell asleep and woke up already in the house, a smile creeping up on his face when he realized that he finally was able to rest.

He’d have to deal with the sadness of being done with a world tour later. He had bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

After his shower, he cautiously crept into your shared bedroom, droplets of water falling from his hair and onto his face.

“Baby, I know it’s not a lot...” He frowned as you unpacked his luggage and sorted out his dirty and clean clothes, “But I got you something-“

You stared at him with wide, puffy eyes.

It was safe to say that you started crying even greater than before.

Jungkook still remembered how cute you looked when you had the “I Love New York” t-shirt while you were sobbing profusely.

It was an image that he always looked back on when he felt like he wasn’t enough for you, or when he felt like you two were growing distant. It reminded him that you loved him so much that even a cheap t-shirt from him would make you happy. It also reminded him that you deserved the not only the world, but the whole universe.

He planned to give that to you.

Eventually, time would pass by so long that he’d realize that he was sitting by himself for about an hour just thinking. He would lose the tension in his eyebrows since they were furrowed from mentally creating a list of just you. Then, he’d rub his eyes and try to catch up and find wherever his bandmates were.

If they were on a music video set, he’d continue with the filming and act like nothing happened. If they were taking a break from learning a new dance for their comeback, he’d do a few stretches and immediately get back into perfecting the steps of the choreography. At first his friends would ask him if was okay, but later on they became accustomed to this weird habit of his.

The day would pass by normally, them getting praised for a job well done, Jungkook packing all his things, and him excitedly making his way back to his and your home. He was ready to see you after a long day, even though he knew that it would already be way too late for you to be awake and have a conversation with him. He didn’t mind.

Just being around you was enough for him.

He’d spend the late night continuing his list, remembering how when you first met him, you didn’t even know what to say and ended up just staring at him, frozen. He’d chuckle to himself, thinking about how awkward the two of you were prior to when he finally mustered the courage to ask you out.

Jungkook would listen to the music playing in his car, his head bopping up and down to the beat. He’d then smile to himself at the cheesy love songs that he was grooving along to.

You had given him a playlist with all the songs that reminded you of him, and he hasn’t listened to anything else since.

The rest of the car ride would consist of him chuckling at the greasy lyrics of certain songs, telling him that he’d never be alone and that you’d spend the rest of your life with him. He always wondered where you found all of these tunes.

When you guys first met, you only mentioned to him that you like to listen to rap music. He figured you just wanted to look cool in front of him.

Eventually he would finally reach his home and after taking a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he’d find you snuggled up on the bed, your body peacefully rising up and down. He’d quickly lay in bed with you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body and taking in your sweet scent. Eyelids getting heavy, he’d snuggle into the back of your neck, placing a soft kiss on your hair and drifting off to sleep.

He always hoped to have a sweet dream about you. Something that could be about the family you two would have, or what your wedding would be like.

In the strange limbo of being half asleep and awake, Jungkook would realize exactly how tired he was from the day’s work. Then, snores would emit from him, his arms holding your body close to his own and locking you down in place. You’d still be in deep sleep, subconsciously grabbing one of Jungkook’s hands and placing it in yours.

He always hoped that things could stay like this forever. He wished he could pause time and just lay with you like that for as long as he wanted to, where neither you or him could be worried about anything. Nothing else mattered except for each other. The nights always gave him the best comfort, as he could honestly say that they were the most peaceful moments of his day.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Well, until he gets interrupted from his sleep.

The only thing he could feel was the cold air from the slightly opened window from your bedroom. His eyes would shoot open, stinging slightly as they were blinded by the moonlight.

The first thing he would notice was the absence of you, bedsheet wrinkles formed on your spot of the bed. He’d rub the sleep away from his eyes and feel the panic and dread seep into his heart. Tossing the covers to the side, Jungkook almost jumped out of the bed and went on a journey to look for you.

He couldn’t find you in the bathroom.

He always worried that one day you’d just leave him out of nowhere, and he could openly admit that that was one of his biggest fears.

However, Jungkook would find your blue toothbrush resting next to his in the black mug you had bought one time from a flea market.

He chuckled at the sight of the mug, flashbacks appearing in his mind.

You came home from work one day, later than usual. Jungkook had the day off, and was sitting on the couch playing video games.

You marched up to him rather triumphantly, kissing him proudly on the lips before showing off a plastic bag to him.

“What’s that, darling?” He asked, still breathless from the kiss you had given him. He bit his lip, cheeks warm and tinted pink. You beamed at him.

“I bargained for the first time today!”

Jungkook had never been more proud.

Tuning his attention to the situation at hand, Jungkook felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders, because if you were ever going to leave him he knew that you’d never even think about leaving that precious mug behind.

Taking a sigh of relief, he’d deduct that you must be in the kitchen or the living room.

The kitchen would be absent of you, but he’d notice that the pantry door was open. He’d peer into it and notice that your favorite cereal, Lucky Charms, was gone. Then, he would smile, knowing exactly what you were up to. Jungkook would grab a small bag of chips for himself and eat them before making a beeline to the living room, where he would now realize that the soft sounds of a show would be coming from there.

There he’d see the tv playing and you covered with a blanket, laying on the couch comfortably as you ate a spoonful of Lucky Charms. However, you never ate the cereal first. No. You ate the weird light brown parts that were only created in order to deem it somewhat “healthy” and a reasonable breakfast for kids. Jungkook would hear the soft crunch of the cereal and laugh softly to himself.

“Isn’t it a little too late for breakfast?” He’d tease, taking a seat next to you and crawling under the covers as well.

“Jungkook!” You’d say in surprise, mouth full of chewed up cereal. He’d scrunch his nose at the sight and place a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around you. You’d lean into the touch almost immediately, giggling and shoving another spoonful into your mouth.

“You shouldn’t be up, y’know,” you mumbled, eyes focused on the action anime playing on the tv. Jungkook would be watching as well, eyes following the movements of the main character before actually responding to you.

“I could say the same for you.”

“Well, you have to wake up earlier!” You retorted, another soft crunch coming from your mouth, “I don’t have to wake up as early as you.”

“You still need sleep,” Jungkook rested his head on yours, still groggy, “Still need to sleep with me.”

“Can’t sleep without me?” You giggled, teasing him. He whined in response and you placed the cereal on the coffee table before cuddling with him. He flashed a lazy smile at you and you gave him a kiss before smiling back.

“That’s much better,” he sighed, having you back in his arms again.

“Hold on, hold on...” You placed another kiss on his lips, sitting up in his lap instead of laying with him. He frowned, feeling cold once more. You laughed and grabbed the bowl of cereal and placed it on his stomach, using it as a makeshift table.

“I still need to finish my marshmallows,” You mumbled, more to yourself rather than him, “And I need to finish this episode.”

Jungkook groaned, resting his head on the armrest and rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, suck it up,” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I deserve an apology.”

“I’m sorry these marshmallows are sweeter than you?”

He immediately looked up to see you about to burst in laughter. His frown tilted downwards even more, and you pinched his cheek in response.

“I love you!”

“Yeah, right.”

“You love me too,” You nodded in satisfaction, flashing a smug smile that showed off your lips that were slightly stained blue.

“You’re lucky you’re super cute.”

“Thank you!” You plopped another marshmallow into your mouth, letting the sugar cover your tongue.

As you watched the show, still straddled on his lap, Jungkook stared at you endearingly. Even though it was usual for you to eat cereal such late at night, he still never got tired of seeing you like this.

He’d take in how you’d carefully examine the marshmallow before eating it, trying to determine what kind of shape it was. Then, you’d place it in your mouth, letting it dissolve before actually eating it. Jungkook always felt that you should chew the marshmallow right away since it was kind of on the crunchier side instead of the fluffier side, but you always reasoned that it was the best way to eat them and savor them.

He’d notice when an fight scene would pop up and you’d chew a little faster in anticipation of what would happen next. He’d also notice how you’d lick the sugar that had melted on your fingers while your eyes were fixed on the screen in front of the two of you.

“You want one?” You’d ask, and he’d nod, opening his mouth so you can feed him. He’d lightly chew on the marshmallow, feeling the sugar become compacted with his teeth.

It was then and there that he realized that his favorite thing about you was being able to share midnight cereal. He loved how comfortable these nights were, how the two of you didn’t need to do much to realize how much you loved each other. He just needed to watch you eat cereal and you just needed to share your marshmallows with him. He just needed you with his t-shirt and some shorts on as you sat comfortably in his lap.

He just needed the tv playing in the background while the two of you ate cereal in silence.

“You know I was lying, right?” You’d quietly say out of the blue, dragging him abruptly out of his trance.

“Huh?”

“About the marshmallows being sweeter than you,” Your eyes met him and he sat up slightly to give you a kiss.

You tasted like sugar and worn down mint toothpaste. You smelled of roses with a slight hint of sweat from being covered in blankets. You were warm and comforting on top of him. Jungkook thought he was floating.

He felt himself smile against your lips.

“I know.”

hope you liked it! it was really simple but i had a lot of fun writing it :) i have longer fics coming i promise ;)