#i feel like i’m watching my entire life crumble away right before my eyes everything me and my mom have worked for is just dwindling

[tokitooth]

medical websites love to be like “how to stop having physical stress symptoms: 1. be in less stressful situations 2. don’t be stressed”

[phosph-ate]

Hide Away

Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader

Summary: Dr. Phosphorus has you feeling things. You are sure these feelings are one-sided, but after hiding from your feelings you come to realize that is not true.

CW: Suggestive themes, 18+, dry humping, biting, you get freaky in a closet, rick refers to you as kid, you are immune to dr phosphorus but no other details of how/what you are is given, no beta.

WC: 0.8k

A/N: divider by cafekitsune. this is just a random idea; I wanted to get freaky in a closet with the skeleton thus this was born. I do plan on making maybe a little series for phosphorus x reader... And maybe a p2 for this with maybe a fem and male reader... idk I'm bouncing ideas around right now. Also, side note, I've only ever written reader inserts or character x oc, and this show has me wanting to do character x character fics... anyway, let's goooo!

You were crumbling. Fast.

You watched Dr. Phosphorus from across the room. Your eyes wandered from his face to his ribs, down to his belt. You needed to know what he was like. What he felt like. You needed him.

“Are you okay?” Nina nudged you.

“Uh,” You looked away from the man you were swooning over. You were hot. Everything was so hot. “I just need some fresh air.”

You turned away from Nina and walked down the hall. As you continued, thoughts plagued you. The glances you would share with Phosphorus, the small touches here and there. It was driving you insane. You figured you could not say anything. So you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You, on autopilot, found a closet and quickly entered it. You needed to get your mind off of him, and immediately. Once you realized you were in a fucking closet, you had to think of a gameplan to get to your room. Maybe you could handle the situation yourself.

You sat down, back against the wall, and shut your eyes tight. The only source of light coming into the room was from under the door. Other than that, you sat in the dark. You sucked in air and placed your head in your hands. Your world was spinning, leaving you to not notice the door opening.

“This is your idea of getting some fresh air?” The closet door shut and suddenly it was not completely dark in the room. You could definitely make out Dr. Phosphorus.

“Oh!” You jumped and tried to scoot further back but realized you could not get any closer to the wall. “I was just- I’m thinking!” You ended up snapping at him.

“About…-”

You could not handle it anymore. “About you!” You tried to keep your voice down. You groaned and hugged yourself. “It’s always you…” You huffed. “I want- No, I need to know what it’s like-”

“What do you need to know?” Oh, he was smug.

“Everything!” You stood up and looked at him, really looked at him. “I want to feel you; I want you to touch me! Dr. Phosphorus-”

“Call me Alex.” He corrected you.

Your face was burning now. Your eyes widened and you sucked in air. “Alex,” You were begging, “I need you.”

You thought he was smug before. He stepped towards you and his hands reached for you. “Are you sure?” He sounded like he was trying hard to compose himself. To keep himself from pouncing on you.

You nodded, “I’ve never needed anything more in my entire fucking life.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Dr. Phosphorus grabbed you. His hands grabbed your hips, and he pulled you close to him. You were pressed against the wall, and he stared at you. At least, you were sure that was what he was doing. “Can I kiss you?” You begged.

“Please.” It was his turn to beg. You kissed him, gently on the cheek. You began to pepper kisses across his face and your eyes shut. You moved slightly, getting a better angle, and Dr. Phosphorus moaned. His grip on you tightened and you rubbed your hips into his. He let out a whine.

It was music to your ears.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” His voice was husky. “Every time you laugh-” He continued, and you stopped kissing him and your head fell back from pleasure, “-and you lean back, I just want to-” He could not control himself anymore. His hips bucked into yours while you kept grinding against him and his teeth scraped your throat.

An airy noise escaped you and your eyes shut tight. You grabbed his coat and held on, knuckles turning colors from your grip. “Do that again. Please, Alex.” You whined. Dr. Phosphorus obliged. His teeth biting at your exposed skin, dragging from your throat to your collarbone.

Chills ran up your spine and you moaned. A little too loudly.

A fist banged on the closet door and neither of you responded. The door swung open. “What the fuck!?” Rick shouted. You ignored him. You felt too good to care.

Dr. Phosphorus kept grinding against you, his grip on you becoming bruising. And then, suddenly, there was nothing. Dr. Phosphorus was ripped from you and thrown out of the closet. You stood there, shocked and horny.

“We’ll continue this later,” Dr. Phosphorus reassured you.

Rick ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Not in a fucking closet you won’t!” He snapped. “Come on out, kid.” He motioned for you to leave the closet.

“Can I get some fresh air now?” You looked at Rick in a daze.

“As long as you don’t get caught with him outside.” Rick glared at Dr. Phosphorus.

You nodded. You definitely needed to think. And, if Phosphorus was not pulling your leg about continuing later, you could wait for release.

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : established relationship, threat, confrontation, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k

you had always known that your ex was trouble, but you never expected him to show up at your doorstep after all this time. it had been months since you’d broken things off, and you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, finding peace in your life. but all of that was shattered the moment you opened your door and found him standing there, his familiar smirk making your stomach churn.

“miss me?” he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he had every right to be there.

you stiffened, your hand tightening around the edge of the door. “what do you want?”

he shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious. “i’ve been thinking about you. figured i’d drop by, see how you’ve been.”

the audacity of his words made your blood boil. after everything he’d put you through - the lies, the manipulation, the constant mind games - he had the nerve to act like you were just another one of his conquests he could revisit whenever he felt like it.

“i’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. “you need to leave.”

his smirk widened, as if your resistance only amused him. “come on baby, don’t be like that. we had some good times, didn’t we? no need to throw it all away.”

you felt a wave of panic rising in your chest. he was the same as ever, using that smooth, persuasive tone to try and worm his way back into your life. but you weren’t the same person you were when you’d been with him. you were stronger now, more sure of what you wanted - and more certain that he wasn’t it.

“i said leave,” you repeated, but he only took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as his expression turned from playful to dangerous.

“don’t act like you don’t want this,��� he said, his voice low and menacing. “i know you. you’ll come around, just like always.”

before you could respond, a shadow fell over the doorway, and your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t even heard logan approach, but suddenly, he was there, stepping up behind you with a presence that seemed to fill the entire space.

“you heard her,” logan said, his voice low and deadly. “she’s not interested. now get lost.”

your ex’s bravado faltered for a split second as he looked up at logan, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there. he took in logan’s tall, muscular frame, the sharp glint in his eyes, and the way he carried himself with a confidence that screamed don’t mess with me.

“and who the hell are you?” your ex sneered, trying to regain his composure.

logan didn’t so much as flinch. “someone who’s not gonna ask again. walk away now, before i make you.”

the threat in logan’s voice was unmistakable, and you could see the hesitation in your ex’s eyes. he wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like logan, who looked like he could break him in half without even trying.

“this is between me and her,” your ex said, though his voice lacked the earlier confidence. “it’s none of your business.”

logan took a step forward, his stance aggressive, and you felt a surge of relief and gratitude wash over you. “it became my business the second you showed up uninvited. so, i’ll say it one more time - leave. now.”

there was a long, tense moment where it seemed like your ex was considering whether or not to push his luck. but whatever he saw in logan’s eyes must have convinced him that it wasn’t worth it. he scoffed, taking a step back.

“fine,” he spat, his bravado crumbling as he realised he was outmatched. “but don’t think this is over.”

“it is,” logan said coldly. “you show up here again, you’ll regret it.”

your ex shot you one last look, a twisted mix of anger and disdain, before turning on his heel and stalking off down the street. you watched him go, your heart still racing, but as the distance between you grew, so did your sense of relief.

once he was out of sight, you let out a shaky breath, your whole body trembling with the adrenaline of the encounter. logan, still standing protectively by your side, turned to you, his expression softening.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, so different from the cold, threatening tone he’d used with your ex.

you nodded, but the emotions of the moment were overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself leaning into logan, seeking the comfort of his solid presence. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and the warmth and strength of his embrace was exactly what you needed.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

logan pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he said firmly. “i won’t let him hurt you.”

you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude. “you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

logan’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “of course i did. i care about you, and ‘m not gonna let anyone treat you like that.”

your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache with affection. logan had always been protective, always looking out for you in his own gruff way, but this was different. this was him showing just how much he cared, how much he was willing to do to keep you safe.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor yourself to him.

logan smiled, a rare, soft smile that he seemed to reserve just for you. “you don’t have to do anything. ‘m here because i want to be.”

he leaned down and kissed you, a slow, lingering kiss that felt like a promise - a promise that he’d always be there for you, no matter what. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek.

“you’re safe with me,” he whispered, and you knew, without a doubt, that he meant it.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realised that with logan by your side, you didn’t have to be afraid of anything - or anyone - ever again.

[aphroditeinthesea]

can i please request a percy jackson x reader where the reader is a daughter of aphrodite to the song i can do it with a broken heart by taylor swift

“ i can do it with a broken heart ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

⚠️ percy is an ass to the reader but that’s kinda a given + percabeth inclusion woop woop

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

i can read ur mind

she’s having the time of her life

there in her glittering prime the lights reflect

sequin stars off her silhouette every night

i can show you lies

“I’m so happy you're finally getting over him,” her sister smiled, hand on her back.

She forced a grin as she continued to sing along to the campfire song. She nodded and waited for her sister to turn her attention away. When she finally saw the girl from the corner of her eye turn towards her boyfriend.

Y/N looked down to the grass. If she looked up she knew what she would see. Just the thought was nauseating. The boy who she claimed to all her friends she would marry, who she already had best laid plans to move to New Rome with and go to college together.

Everything that came to a crumble when he decided he did want those things. Just with his best friend instead.

She watched from across the way how his arm was wrapped around the blonde. They weren't even talking, just looking into each other’s eyes. It was as though they were having an entire conversation without saying anything. She recalled how when she first started going out with Percy and her friends tried to warn her. Everyone knew that the two were soulmates, except for three people.

She wondered if on some level she always knew, too. Maybe she was just denying it to stay with him for just a little bit longer. Even if she screamed all night the day she he broke up with her.

If you were ever so inclined to wonder what really truly happened, here’s the deal:

It was like any other Friday. Perseus Jackson waltzed into her cabin, head low almost as though he cared. He told her he wanted to talk to her privately in cabin three. Her heart sank. She knew. She just knew.

Soon enough, while she sat on his bed and he stood in front of her, he spoke in his softest voice.

“We need to break up.”

She felt her head get dizzy while she looked up at him, “what?”

“I’m so sorry,” he sat next to her, “I hate having to do this to you.”

“Why?” was all she could say.

His eyebrows creased, while tears welled up in his sea green eyes. She felt like she was looking into one of the clear seas of Greece. “I dont feel about you the way that I should.”

She sighed, “Annabeth.” Although because of the weakness in her voice, all that came out was, “Eth.”

He understood her. Slowly nodding, he began once again, “I realized I feel more about her than I should,” he took a breath, “but I wouldn't do anything before ending this with you. I couldn't hurt you like that.”

That damn loyalty of his.

“I get it.”

i’m a real tough kid

i can handle my shit

they said “babe, you gotta fake it til you make it”

and i did

The next morning, it was like it never happened. Afterall, a girl’s gotta have a reputation to upkeep. Everyone’s favorite daughter of Aphrodite. Who could hate a girl so bubbly and peppy and outgoing and happy and has never once had a bad hair day?

Everyone tried to get her to talk about it, but the only thing she said was “I’m helping at arts and crafts today, tee-tee-why-ell!”

With a smile on her face and the taste of vomit on her lips, she pranced around helping campers make vases and false confidence.

“You need to guide your hands up more, like this-”

“Y/N.”

She looked up to lock eyes with the daughter of Athena. “Annabeth.”

“I really wanted to talk to you.”

She flashed her blinding smile and raised eyebrows, “I would love to talk, but I’m right now,” even though her blood boiled at the sight of the blonde curls, “see you later, though.”

“I’m staying.”

“Oh!” She squeaked, “grab a seat.”

lights, camera, bitch smile

even when you wanna die

he said he’s love me all his life

but that life was too short

As soon as y/n was alone she broke down, hitting the floor. She felt all the pieces of her shatter. She had spent hours grinning like a winner before she finally crashed.

She let out every emotion she had felt that day. The anger, the sadness, the betrayal, the heartbreak, all of it. She let out a scream for every glance she shared with either Percy or Annabeth.

But just before dinner, she dolled up her makeup and curled her hair to perfection. Then brushed it out. Then straightened it.

She knew she was overthinking it, but how damn stupid would she look walking out to dinner with hair that mirrored the girl she was just left for? Of course, the meal went as it always would. Her cracking jokes with her siblings, giving out advice that not a soul asked for, all was normal except for the table across the way.

The Poseidon table, which was currently being shared by a certain blonde. This had to be a joke. She watched their conversation flow so easily. The laughs, the smiles, whispers, before Annabeth snuck back off to her own table.

She thought to herself that maybe she should have done that. I mean, if little miss perfect could bend the rules a little, why couldn't she? Maybe that’s why he left?

Over the next few weeks, she tried to block out everything about him. Maybe it was just a dream. But occasionally she’d find something of his in a drawer. Crucial evidence she didn't just imagine the whole thing.

She was sure she could pass this test. The test being the ability to not spend her days crying. And although she did cry a whole lot, she was so damn productive. It was honestly an art. She knew for the rest of her life that this time really proved how good she was at faking. You know? ‘Cause she’s miserable and nobody even knows.

Try and come for her job.

[sunboki]

hi august!! it’s 🍭 anon from your blurboki blog!! i just had the worst shift of my entire life. i had to close my whole store down by myself after working 12 hours at two different jobs while running on two hours of sleep and i was so behind that i was there an hour past my scheduled shift. if you have the time, could you give me headcanons of how skz would comfort a stressed reader coming home from work and breaking down in front of them;( my boys are the only thing keeping my sanity right now. i hope you’ve had a good day today, and your mom is so cute for those minsung texts<33

🧷 SKZ COMFORTING YOU AFTER A STRESSFUL DAY

・ including. ot8

・ warnings crying, nicknames, mental breakdowns, angst

note. rushing to write this as fast i can because you deserve it for being so unbelievably sweet and incredible. you’re doing amazing i hope you know that, and please, even if it’s hard to make time while being so busy, make time to take care of yourself, okay? i recommend watching episodes 33, 52, and 61 of chan’s room, they’re some of my favorite comfort watches <3

CHAN hates when you cry. He hates it so much it makes him feel sick to his stomach. He could still perfectly remember how your voice had shook, looking so utterly sad and broken and it made him feel like everything was his fault—that he should’ve done better. Better at protecting you, caring for you, everything. Not like he didn’t before, just better. Urging you to take deep breaths and listen to him as he spoke, he pulled you into his chest, helping calm your frantic heart down. “It’s going to be okay, listen to me baby, you’re okay.” Chan whispered, soul splintering into pieces from your fragile hiccups against his t-shirt, sounding so fragile and pained. Oh what he would give to kiss all your worries away, hug you close to him for eternity—till you never felt this way ever again. He would. He’d stay here all night—no, his entire life—if that’s what it took.

MINHO kicked his feet as he walked back to your place, plastic bag filled with snacks from the convenience store swinging aimlessly beside him. Though suddenly his phone began ringing, face lighting up upon seeing your number. “Jagi~ did you miss m-“..Min.. can you come home faster please? I really need you right now.” Something was wrong. Very wrong. He’d never stopped in his tracks so fast, bag long abandoned behind him as he sprinted as fast as he could. Basically slamming into the door with panic before collecting you—who was curled up on the floor—into his arms and hushing your rambles, rocking back and forth as he let you cry, cry and cry until you murmured that your face hurt from the tears and he eased you to fall asleep, giving your lips an open kiss as your head tipped back against his shoulder, finally succumbing to the exhaustion. Minho didn’t need to know what happened, what was wrong. He didn’t care, you could save that for later. Right now, he needed to make sure his love was safe and warm.

CHANGBIN looked up from his phone as the key to the door clicked, awaiting you with upturned lips and happiness-filled crescent moon eyes. That was, before you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, choking on the bubbling sob threatening to climb up your throat. It was like slow-motion watching you crumble, and he immediately grabbed your hands and led you to the foot of your shared bed, giving your hands soft squeezes. A silent, ‘I’m here, so don’t be afraid to talk to me.’ Speaking words that didn’t need to be spoken. Changbin was good at that. “I’m just so overwhelmed with work and life and today was beyond shitty. And it’s unbelievably hard sometimes to exist, y’know?” He nods in response, appearing equally upset. Watching you break down is extremely difficult for him, but he knows this is how you recover, how you get through this and he can’t interfere. Without saying anything, the rapper stares at you so lovingly, beckoning you into a long, cozy hug as he pats the top of your head.

HYUNJIN could see the heart-breaking glossiness of your eyes before any words were shared between you two. Simultaneously, he lifted a finger to your lips, brows lifted expectantly. “Shh.. not yet, not yet. Wait, sweetness.” Then proceeds to wrap you into a blanket burrito and turn on disney movies at low volume while you’re pulled into his lap on the couch, all in a matter of thirty seconds. He runs gentle fingers along your cheeks, trailing up to thumb away stray tears dappling your under eyes. So, so delicate, like someone could snap the line of carefulness with a dull butter knife. Hyunjin listens to you attentively, as if you were the only thing existent in the moment. He listens and listens and listens some more, letting you release all the built up anxiety and stress drowning you. Once you finish, he ever-so slightly tips your chin to kiss him, hands cupping either side of your face. “We’re going to get through this together, trust me.”

HAN’s entire expression shifts instantly, brows knitting with concern and eyes growing wide. “Baby?” Head snapping up, he frantically nods, debating on what his first move should be. “Could I.. cry? For a second.” You shakily ask, and to say his heart broke was an understatement. “Baby, you never have to ask. Now c’mere.” He meekly smiles, patting the spot on the couch beside him. Turns out, your boyfriend isn’t as strong as you thought, because a mere ten minutes into your crying and he joins, whining jumbled sentences in between sobs about how he plans to beat up whoever’s responsible until you begin laughing at him and he cries even more because: “I love you so much— stop laughing~” and “I don’t understand why you’re laughing, this is sad!” Not to mention this crying fiasco eventually leads to the both of you fast asleep sprawled on the couch, snacks and drinks scattered everywhere as emotional support. Nonetheless, you could always count on Jisung to be there for you, cry with you, laughing with you, anything. Always.

FELIX throws off his oven mitts upon hearing your bag hit the floor, but what he hadn’t expected at the door were heavy tears steaming down your face, sniffing profusely to replace the air quickly snatched from your lungs with each breath. He falters, assessing the situation at hand. You’re incapable of talking, mind racing too fast too properly react. Although, without fail, Felix ushers you into a chair, pulling his own up to sit in front of you. Big, mystifyingly beautiful brown orbs study your face, kindly making eye-contact in the midst of your blinking. Reassurance, kindness. Felix is undeniably patient, undeniably kind. He disappears, scouring through cabinets to return with a small dessert and an equally small fork. Tediously cutting a small bite, he holds the treat up to you, humming like a proud mother watching her baby eat when you take a bite. One by one, more and more bites. More humming, more light touches brushing away sticky strands of hair plastered onto your face. Quiet. Your apartment is quiet and has been since you returned. No one has said a word, but Felix seems to always find a way to say how much he loves and cares for you.

SEUNGMIN can tell. Even on the most normal of days, he can tell. Like today, when you nonchalantly kissed his cheek like you usually did and retreated into the bedroom, he could tell. A shift in the air. Subtle, but a shift in the air, because when he walked in afterwards, leaning forward where you sat, laptop placed on your desk, he watched you stifle a billowing noise before the wave crashed and you buried your face in your hands. “I can’t keep doing this, Seungmin.” Using his name like that, not Minnie or Min, but Seungmin told him all he needed to know. Wrapping himself around you from behind, he sighed softly. “I know you’re tired, and I know you want to stop but you’re doing good. You’ve been doing good, so please don’t let this bad day ruin better days in the future. ‘M so proud of you.” He mumbles against your neck, leaving chaste kisses there. For Seungmin, your boyfriend that (playfully) picked fun at you to be saying things like this meant a lot. You couldn’t contain the tears after that. “I love you, Minnie.” — “No, ‘love you more.” — “Are you sure?” — “Nope.” — “Hey!”

JEONGIN struggles to make out your shape in the darkness, laying in bed where he’d been waiting for you. Today you returned late, stuttering over every chance of communicating as you clumsily slipped into bed beside him. He immediately raised up, nudging you closer to him to cuddle. “Mm love, what’s going on, tell me.” He asked, tone low from sleep. “I don’t want to talk about it, ‘just want you, Innie.” He cracks a weak smile, burying his face in your collarbone. “Then I’m here, for you.” Jeongin hums, allowing you to mumble your frustrations and thoughts without complaint, trying to reply his best while feeling himself drift off periodically. Eventually, you both fall asleep beside each other, limbs tangled and hair splayed in all directions. In the morning he helps ice your puffy eyes, big hands holding onto your hips gently as your back lean against him, both brushing your teeth. And you decide, with Jeongin, nothing can be wrong. Nothing can hurt, nothing bad will last. He’s safe. You love him.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (FINAL PART)

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V, PART VI

Plot Overview:

In this chapter, Y/N confronts her past in a final, pivotal moment. As she faces the consequences of the choices she’s made, she finds herself standing at a crossroads, where the future is uncertain but full of potential. With everything she’s fought for coming to a head, the chapter explores themes of freedom, family, and finding strength in the aftermath of destruction. The journey is far from over, but the bonds formed along the way will guide the way forward.

Warnings: Mafia!BangChan, Mafia!StaryKids, Mafia!AU, Dark themes, Triggering content (violence, blood, death), Emotional Angst, Swearing, References to trauma

Author Note:

We did it! You stuck with me through all the chaos, and I’m honestly blown away. Thank you for your love, comments, and patience—this story wouldn’t have been the same without you! You’re all legends. 🖤

And hey, this may be the end of this series, but it’s never really the end, right? Catch you on the next wild ride. 😉

⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆

The drive to Victor’s estate feels like the longest of your life. The roads are dark and winding, the weight of what you’re about to do pressing down on you with every passing mile. You force yourself to keep your breathing steady, your hands loose in your lap despite the pulse of adrenaline beneath your skin. You need to play this perfectly. If you slip—if you hesitate—Victor will see through you, and this entire plan will fall apart before Stray Kids can even breach the gates.

The car slows as you approach the entrance, the heavy iron gates parting as if welcoming you home. But this isn’t home. Not anymore.

Two of Victor’s men flank the doors as you step out, their expressions unreadable, but their hands linger near their weapons. They don’t trust you. Good. They shouldn’t.

The moment you step inside, you feel it—that familiar chill that always seemed to cling to this place. The estate is as grand as ever, a calculated display of power and wealth, but now it feels like a mausoleum, a relic of an empire that is already crumbling.

Victor is waiting for you. He stands at the head of the vast room, his silhouette framed by the golden light of the chandeliers. He looks calm, too calm, dressed in his usual tailored suit, a glass of whiskey in his hand like this is just another business meeting.

“Y/N,” he says smoothly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Finally come to your senses?”

You school your features, keep your shoulders loose as you step forward. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Victor chuckles, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting it aside. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d come back at all, not after the mess you made.” He gestures lazily to the side, and your eyes follow—to Jake.

He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked onto you like he’s waiting for you to make the wrong move. Unlike Victor, he doesn’t look amused. He looks like he’s still trying to figure you out, like he doesn’t know whether to believe you or put a bullet in your skull.

“You didn’t bring your new friends?” Jake asks, voice cool but edged with something else. “No Bang Chan holding your leash?”

You roll your eyes, giving him a flat look. “I don’t need a leash. I make my own choices. That’s why I’m here.”

Victor hums in approval, stepping closer. “A good choice, then. You were always meant for more than being Chan’s little pet project.” He studies you, his gaze sharp and calculating. “But I need to hear you say it, Y/N. Are you ready to come back where you belong?”

You swallow down the revulsion curling in your gut and force yourself to hold his gaze. “I want to make things right.”

Victor watches you carefully, the room so silent you can hear the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Then, he smiles—slow, pleased, but not entirely convinced. “Words are cheap, my dear. If you’re really here to make things right, you’ll have to prove it.”

Your stomach tightens. “How?”

He motions toward one of his men, who steps forward, dragging someone with him. Your breath catches when you recognize the man—a low-level informant who had been feeding intel to Stray Kids. His face is bloodied, his wrists bound behind his back.

Victor turns to you, his smile widening. “Kill him.”

You knew this was a possibility. You knew Victor would test you, make you prove your loyalty in the most brutal way. But still, the sight of the trembling man on his knees in front of you makes something clench deep in your chest.

“Or,” Victor continues, voice silky smooth, “if that’s too much for your conscience, you can get on your knees instead. Beg for my forgiveness. Show me you’re willing to crawl back where you belong.”

You force yourself to keep your breathing steady. Not yet. Stall. Just a little longer.

“Is this really necessary?” you ask, tilting your head as if you’re considering it, as if you’re not already planning the best way to end this charade. “I came back. I chose you over Chan. Isn’t that enough?”

Victor chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, my sweet girl. I taught you better than that. Trust is earned.” He gestures toward the gun resting on the table beside him. “Pick it up. Prove your loyalty.”

The weight of the moment presses down on you. You can feel Jake watching you, feel Victor’s men shifting slightly, waiting for you to make your move.

And then—

A distant thud echoes through the walls. A second later, the power flickers.

Showtime.

The infiltration has begun. Stray Kids is in position.

You don’t hesitate. In one smooth motion, you grab the gun—but instead of turning it on the informant, you whip it up, firing a shot straight into the nearest guard. Chaos erupts instantly.

Jake lunges for you, but you’re already moving, ducking out of the way as the room explodes into gunfire. The doors burst open, and Chan is the first one through, his gun raised, his expression cold and deadly as he takes out one of Victor’s men without breaking stride.

His eyes find you across the chaos, and for a split second, the rest of the room fades away.

“You took your damn time,” you say breathlessly, flipping the table for cover as another bullet whizzes past.

Chan smirks, his voice rough but steady. “You seemed like you had it handled, baby.”

And then, just like that, the war begins.

The estate is in chaos. Gunfire rings through the halls, echoing off the marble floors and high ceilings as Stray Kids crashes through Victor’s fortress. The air is thick with smoke and the acrid scent of blood and gunpowder. Bodies hit the ground, shouts and orders blending into the cacophony of war.

You don’t hesitate. You duck, roll, and fire, your movements swift and precise, years of training kicking in as if they were second nature. But this is different. This isn’t a mission under Victor’s command. This is your fight.

Somewhere across the battlefield, you catch a glimpse of Chan, his presence unmistakable in the storm of bodies and bullets. His expression is unreadable, his gun an extension of himself as he moves through the chaos, cutting down Victor’s men with ruthless precision. But his eyes—those sharp, dark eyes—are scanning, searching. For you.

Your heart pounds, but you don’t let it distract you. You push forward, taking out another one of Victor’s men as you make your way deeper into the estate. This has to end tonight.

A movement to your left. Too fast. Too familiar.

You spin, barely dodging the knife that slashes through the air where your throat had been a second earlier. Jake.

He stands before you, breathing hard, his knife still poised in his grip. His face is a storm of emotions—anger, betrayal, something almost hesitant beneath it all. But there’s no time for hesitation now.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” Jake growls, shifting into a fighting stance. “You don’t belong with them.”

You tighten your grip on your gun but don’t fire. Not yet. “And you don’t belong with him.” Your voice is steady, but your chest feels tight. “Victor’s not our family, Jake. He never was. He’s just using you the way he used me.”

Jake scoffs, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “And you think Chan is any different?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you move.

Jake expects the gun, but he doesn’t expect you to charge at him head-on. You duck under his next attack, using his own momentum against him as you twist, slamming the butt of your gun into his ribs. He stumbles but recovers fast, swiping his knife toward you again.

The fight is brutal, raw, a clash of past and present.

Every move, every counter, is a reflection of the years spent training under Victor’s shadow. You know each other’s tells, each other’s weaknesses. But you’re not the same girl who fought by Jake’s side before.

You’re faster. Sharper. Stronger.

You land a hard kick to his stomach, sending him sprawling against a broken table. You’re on him in an instant, pinning him down, your gun pressed to his temple.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Jake’s breathing is ragged, his eyes locked onto yours. And for the first time, you see it—the hesitation, the flicker of doubt buried beneath all that fury.

“Don’t make me do this,” you whisper, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Jake swallows hard, his chest rising and falling beneath you. “Then don’t.”

A voice cuts through the chaos—Victor’s voice.

“You should be putting that gun somewhere useful, sweetheart.”

You snap your head up to see him across the room, standing near the entrance to the underground tunnels. He’s trying to escape.

And in that moment, you make your choice.

With one last look at Jake, you push off him and bolt toward Victor.

He smirks, amused at your decision. “Finally thinking for yourself, huh?” he taunts, stepping backward toward the tunnel. “About time.”

You raise your gun. “You’re not getting away.”

Behind you, Jake pushes himself to his feet, watching as you leave him behind. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t have time to think about what it means.

Because tonight, this ends.

And you’re going to be the one to end it.

You follow Victor through the tunnel, fully aware that it leads straight to your father’s office. But this time, you’re determined to end things for good.

The air is thick with the scent of gunpowder and blood as you step into Victor’s private office. The chaos of the battle still echoes distantly through the estate, but here, in this room, there is nothing but silence.

Victor stands behind his grand mahogany desk, his movements slow, calculated. He’s not panicked. No, Victor doesn’t panic. Even with his empire burning around him, even with the weight of a gun aimed directly at his chest, he remains composed.

You tighten your grip on the weapon, steadying your breath. This is it. The final moment. The culmination of everything.

“Y/N,” he says smoothly, as if greeting an old friend. “Look at you. Standing there like you’ve already won.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “But we both know that’s not true.”

You take a step closer, gun unwavering. “It’s over, dad.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “You think killing me changes anything? That he changes anything?”

You don’t rise to the bait. You’ve played this game too many times before. Victor thrives on control, on twisting words into weapons. But not this time. Not anymore.

“I stopped believing your lies a long time ago,” you say, voice steady. “And I’m done playing by your rules.”

Victor exhales sharply, finally dropping the pretense. “I made you,” he says, his voice colder now. “Everything you are—the way you fight, the way you think—you wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for me.”

Your jaw clenches. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You never saw me as a person. Just a piece of your empire.”

Victor’s expression shifts just slightly, a flicker of something almost resembling regret. “I gave you power.”

“You stole my choice.”

Silence stretches between you, thick and heavy. You feel it now—the weight of everything he’s taken from you. The childhood lost. The blood spilled in his name. The years spent clawing your way out from under his shadow, only to find yourself standing here, at the very end of it all.

And yet, there’s no hesitation when you raise the gun.

Victor studies you carefully. “You really think Chan is any different?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pitying. “You traded one leash for another.”

You don’t flinch. “No. I chose Chan. I chose Stray Kids. I chose myself.”

Victor smiles, slow and cruel. “Then pull the trigger.”

You hesitate—for only a second.

Then the door bursts open.

Chan steps inside, his gun raised, his breathing heavy from the fight outside. His eyes find yours instantly, then flick to Victor. His entire body tenses, his finger twitching over the trigger.

“You don’t have to do this alone, baby,” Chan says, his voice low, steady. “But if you need me to, I’ll do it for you.”

Victor scoffs. “How romantic.”

Your hands tighten on the gun. This is your moment. Your decision.

You take a slow breath, locking eyes with your father one last time. “You don’t control me anymore.”

And then you pull the trigger.

The shot echoes through the office, deafening in the silence that follows.

Victor stumbles back, a stunned look flashing across his face before his knees buckle, sending him collapsing onto the floor. Blood spreads in a dark pool beneath him, his breath rattling as he struggles against the inevitable.

His lips part like he wants to speak, to say something final, but no words come. The light fades from his eyes, and just like that—it’s over.

The weight that’s been crushing you for years suddenly lifts.

Chan steps forward, his gun lowering as he watches Victor’s body go still. Then he turns to you, his expression unreadable at first—until you see it.

Pride.

Relief.

Something deeper, something unbreakable.

You exhale, your entire body trembling as the adrenaline starts to fade. Chan moves toward you without hesitation, his hands framing your face, his forehead pressing to yours.

“It’s done,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “You did it, babygirl.”

You nod, unable to speak, the reality of it crashing over you. But you don’t have to say anything. Not when Chan is here, holding you together as the past crumbles at your feet.

Victor is dead.

And for the first time in your life, you are finally free.

The estate is in flames. Smoke billows through the corridors, the heat pressing against your skin as you navigate the destruction. The air is thick with the scent of burning wood, gunpowder, and blood. Every step forward feels like moving through the wreckage of a past that refuses to let you go.

Victor is dead. His empire is collapsing.

But there’s still one last loose end.

Jake.

You find him near one of the estate’s side exits, a path that could lead to his escape. But he isn’t running. He’s waiting.

His knuckles are bloody, his suit jacket long discarded, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. His expression is unreadable at first—until he sees you.

And then all you see is rage.

“So,” he breathes, his chest rising and falling heavily. “You really did it.” His lips curl, but it isn’t a smile. “You actually killed him.”

You tighten your grip on the knife in your hand. “It was over the second he made me his enemy.”

Jake lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You think this is over?” His eyes darken, the fire reflecting in them like something unhinged. “You think killing him makes you free?”

Something in his voice sends a chill down your spine. This isn’t the brother you used to know. This isn’t the boy who once protected you. This is a man who has lost everything. And a man with nothing left to lose… is dangerous.

“You chose him,” Jake spits, taking a step forward. “You chose them.”

“You could’ve made the same choice,” you say, your voice steady but your heart pounding. “You didn’t have to follow him, Jake.”

He scoffs. “And what? Run to Chan like you did?” His jaw clenches, his fingers twitching at his sides. “You betrayed your own blood for some fucked-up idea of freedom.”

“I betrayed a monster,” you correct, voice sharp. “You’re the one who stood by him. You had a choice, and you chose wrong.”

Jake’s nostrils flare. “Fuck you.”

And then he lunges.

You barely dodge the first swing, his fist grazing your shoulder before you twist away. But he’s relentless, coming at you harder, faster. He’s fighting like a man possessed, like the only thing keeping him standing is the fury burning inside him.

You block a strike, counter with one of your own, your fist connecting with his ribs. He grunts but doesn’t slow. The two of you move like you’ve been trained for this your entire lives—because you have.

Brother against sister. The last remnants of Victor’s bloodline tearing each other apart.

“Stop this, Jake!” you yell between blows. “You don’t have to do this!”

But he’s past the point of listening.

He lands a brutal hit to your stomach, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stumble back, gripping your knife tighter.

He doesn’t stop. He charges again—

A gunshot echoes through the burning estate.

Both of you freeze.

Jake’s eyes flicker, his breath ragged as he turns.

Chan stands at the entrance to the corridor, his gun raised, his expression deadly. Smoke curls around him, his presence a force of nature against the chaos.

“Back off,” Chan warns, his voice low, dangerous. “I won’t ask twice.”

Jake laughs, breathless and wild. “Oh, this is rich,” he sneers. “Here to rescue your little pet?”

Chan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t lower his gun. “You lay another fucking hand on her, and I swear to god—”

“I’ll handle this,” you cut in.

Both men turn to you, Chan’s brows furrowing in concern. “Baby, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.”

Chan studies you for a moment, then gives the smallest nod. Slowly, reluctantly, he steps back. But the warning in his eyes is clear—if Jake makes the wrong move, Chan will end this himself.

You exhale, steadying yourself. Turning back to Jake, you grip your knife tighter. “This is your last chance,” you say. “Walk away. Leave this life behind. It’s over, Jake. You don’t have to die here.”

For a second—just a second—you think he might listen.

Then his eyes darken, and he charges again.

You react on instinct.

The blade in your hand flashes.

And then—it’s over.

Jake stumbles back, his hands flying to his side, where your knife is buried deep. His breath hitches, shock flashing across his face as he looks at you.

You don’t move. Your own breath is shaky, your hands trembling as you pull the knife free.

He drops to his knees.

For the first time, the fire in his eyes dims.

He coughs, blood staining his lips. “You really did it,” he murmurs. His voice isn’t angry anymore. It’s just… tired.

You swallow hard. “I didn’t want to.”

He huffs a weak laugh. “Yeah. Well. You always were stronger than me.”

The words hit you harder than any punch he’s thrown tonight.

Jake wobbles, his body swaying. You move without thinking, catching him before he can fall completely. His blood seeps into your hands, warm and slick.

Chan steps forward, but you shake your head. This is between you and Jake.

His breathing is shallow, his eyes fluttering. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he mutters. “I thought…”

His voice trails off. His head grows heavier against your shoulder.

“Jake,” you whisper, your throat tight.

But he doesn’t respond.

And this time, you don’t know if you feel victorious.

The Stray Kids HQ feels different now. The tension that once loomed over every hallway, every meeting, has shifted. It’s not gone—there’s still rebuilding to do, loose ends to tie up—but the weight of Victor’s empire no longer suffocates you.

It’s over.

Victor is dead. His reign, his power, his control—it all ended the moment you pulled the trigger. And though his shadow will linger, though the scars he left behind won’t fade overnight, you know one thing for certain: you’re free.

The war is over. Now comes the part no one ever prepares you for.

The rebuilding.

You stand on the rooftop of the HQ, the city stretching out before you, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. The skyline feels different tonight—less like a battlefield, more like something that belongs to you now. Not to Victor. Not to the past. But to the future.

Footsteps sound behind you, steady and familiar. You don’t turn. You don’t have to.

Chan steps beside you, his presence warm even in the cool evening air. His hands rest on the edge of the railing, his fingers brushing yours in a way that feels deliberate. Grounding.

“Long day,” he murmurs.

You huff a soft laugh. “Long week.”

A beat of silence. The kind that used to feel heavy between you two. Now, it feels natural.

“I spoke to Changbin,” Chan says after a moment. “The others, too.”

You glance at him. “And?”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “They’re stubborn bastards, but they know what’s good for them.” His eyes flicker to you, something warm settling there. “You’re one of us now.”

The words hit deeper than you expect. It’s not like you needed the validation—you knew where you stood. But hearing it, knowing you’d earned it after everything, makes something inside you loosen.

“About damn time,” you mutter, earning a chuckle from him.

The laughter fades, but the warmth between you remains. He shifts closer, his fingers brushing yours again—this time with intent. “You okay?”

You exhale slowly. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t press. He just waits.

You turn fully toward him, searching his face, the familiar sharp lines and steady gaze that have somehow become your anchor. “I thought I’d feel… more,” you admit. “After everything. After Victor. After Jake.” You shake your head. “But it just feels quiet.”

Chan studies you, his expression unreadable. Then, he nods. “That’s because it’s over.”

The simplicity of it makes your throat tighten.

Over.

After everything, after all the blood and fire, after standing in the wreckage of the only life you ever knew… you made it.

And you weren’t alone.

You swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t know what comes next.”

Chan’s hand lifts, fingers grazing your jaw, tilting your face back toward his. His touch is light, but there’s a quiet certainty in it, in the way his thumb brushes your cheek.

“Then we figure it out,” he says softly. “Together.”

The word settles deep inside you, a promise more powerful than anything spoken in blood or war.

Together.

His gaze flickers to your lips, and for once, there’s no hesitation between you. You lean in first, closing the last bit of space between you, and Chan meets you halfway.

The kiss isn’t desperate like the first time. It isn’t rushed, fueled by adrenaline or anger or the need to claim something before it’s lost.

It’s steady. Certain. The kind of kiss that says this is real. That whatever comes next—whatever rebuilding, whatever choices, whatever chaos still lingers—you’ll face it side by side.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing the same air, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you.

Chan smirks slightly. “So… does this make you the queen of the underworld now?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “God, no.” You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, something sharper creeping into your smile. “I’m not ruling anything, baby.” Your fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer. “But we are.”

His smirk fades into something softer, something reverent. “Damn right we are.”

The city stretches out before you, a world that once felt like a prison now open with possibility. You’ve lost, you’ve won, you’ve burned everything down to build something new.

And as you stand there with Chan, with the future finally in your hands, you know one thing for certain.

This is only the beginning of something far bigger than you ever imagined. It all started with a kidnapping, you becoming a prisoner, falling in love, and watching everything you knew burn to the ground… and now, you’re staring at a future that feels promising. Comforting. Because that’s what he always said… “Together.”

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Four)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Angst, Hanahaki!AU, swearing, self doubt, tears, sweet older brother vibes Jeonghan, (yes that is a warning), Mingyu being a brat (yes that also is a warning)

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: I’m back with another update! This took me 3 hours in one sitting while I sit here and wait for the Ima-Even If the World Ends Tomorrow MV to come out! Let me know what you think! 🫶🏼🩷🌸

- Tae 🥰🩷✨

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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It takes another hour or so for the rest of the guests to arrive, in which the entire time you’ve spent locked away in your bedroom. You’re devastated. You’re the only one down there besides Junhui and Chan who is single. Unlike them, though, you have found your soulmate. You know who he is. He just doesn’t want you back. In short, it fucking sucks. You know you’ll get over it eventually, but for this little moment in time, you want to grieve the life you won’t get. The soft smiles and longing gazes, the spontaneous dates and the sleepless nights wrapped in each other's arms. You hate that you built up such a perfect little fantasy in your head; you hate that years of preparation came crumbling down in one fifteen second interaction. You’re beginning to hate soulmates and love, and everything that comes with it as you blink away more tears that are brimming behind your eyelids.

Of course, Jihoon can feel what is happening. His Poker Face is good, none of the boys downstairs think anything is amiss as he lets himself listen to the conversation of the others, a somewhat content smile on his face. To Jihoon, it feels like he’s constantly grimacing, but no one else seems to notice or if they do, don’t care. He watches as Seungcheol and Seokmin place 5 boxes of pizza on the little coffee table near the slumber party set up alongside some homemade dishes, only for Soonyoung to excitedly grab one whole pizza box for himself, solely for the fact that ‘the birthday boy gets everything he wants on his birthday!’ The TV has been set up with a Marvel film that the birthday boy has chosen himself, smiling happily as everyone settles in with their paper plates and drinks, letting the all too familiar red logo fill the TV screen.

If he’s honest, he can’t focus on the movie. All he could think about was the look of hurt on your face and the betrayal that you felt. He knew he had no right to feel worried or concerned for you, he knows that. He was the main cause of your pain, after all. But Jihoon isn’t a monster. He has some form of compassion and sympathy within him, if he feels your sadness and pain 24/7, of course he’s going to worry about you. It’s only natural. (Or it’s the invisible soulmate bond that is forming between you both. Jihoon refuses to believe that.)

He can hear hushed voices coming from your brother and his soulmate in the dining area as the film plays in the background, and Jihoon can’t help but glance over to hear the tail end of the conversation.

“Trust me,” Jeonghan is smiling reassuringly at your brother, kissing his cheek. Jihoon blushes. No matter how many times he sees it, PDA is a bit daunting for him. “I’ll get her down here.”

“How are you so sure?” Seungcheol frowns, hand on his hip.

“I have my ways.” Jeonghan gleams, pushing him towards an empty spot on the couch. “Just go and relax, darling. I will be back with my little Lady Bug in tow.” Seungcheol concedes with a grumble and a pout before his soulmate gives him one final peck on the lips before making his way up the stairs.

Jihoon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the nickname. Isn’t it Love Bug?

You’re startled by the sound of Jeonghan opening your bedroom door and strolling inside, giving you a smile.

“Please, do come in.” You mumble dryly, leaning back against your bed frame and staring blankly back up at the ceiling.

“Lady Bug..” the unwelcome guest sighs, sitting down at the foot of your bed. “You can’t hide up here forever. It’s Hoshingie’s birthday, he wants to spend his day with the people he loves.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to have someone who dampens the whole party down there.” Your lip quivers before you press the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop the tears from coming.

“I love you, Bug, but frankly I think you’re wrong.” Jeonghan’s hand rests on your shin, but you don’t look at him. You know if you take one look at the worried man, you’d fall apart again. “It doesn’t matter what mood you’re in, little one, all that matters is that you, someone Soonyoung loves with his whole heart, is there to celebrate with him.”

You hiccup, and Jeonghan sighs. He scoops you up and pulls you into his lap, letting his hands comb through your hair. You let your head rest against his shoulder, but keep your hands close to your chest as you sniffle.

“Why don’t they want me, Hannie?” You whimper, and Jeonghan’s heart breaks, only pulling you closer. “What’s wrong with me? What did I do wrong?”

“Sweetie, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you.

“Clearly I did, or else h-he wouldn’t have flat out rejected me.”

He. Your soulmate is a boy. Jeonghan pauses only for a moment before resuming his comfort.

“It is not your fault that you got rejected, Bug.” Jeonghan’s voice is firm. “If your soulmate can’t see you for the amazing, beautiful girl you are, then he is an idiot and it’s his loss.” He rests his cheek on top of your head delicately as you frown.

“I’m not either of those things.”

“EXCUSE ME?!” The volume of his voice startles you, and you pull back quickly. “No, Choi Y/N. Don’t you ever amount your worth to how someone else perceives you. Have I taught you nothing, silly Bug?” He pulls you up to your feet. “I thought I raised you with your brother to be confident with who you are, and not to let someone else define you. Because at the end of the day, only you can define who you are. Do you understand me, young Lady Bug?”

Your eyes are wide, the last few tears escaping your eyes as he reaches out and cups your cheeks, wiping them away.

“Sorry, Hannie…” You whisper, lowering your head as Jeonghan sighs and pulls you into his arms once again.

“You can make it up to me by coming with me. I have wanted to do something with you ever since I met you all those years ago,” you laugh to yourself - it really wasn’t that long ago. “I promised myself I would do this as soon as you could see colours, and I’m going to do it.”

“Right now?” You frown, and Jeonghan nods his head quickly.

“Yes. What do I have to do to get you out of here and downstairs?” He asks in an exasperated tone. After a brief pause and smirk from you, he balks. “Oh no.”

“Yah! Is everything okay up there?!” Seungcheol yells out at the sound of a shout from Jeonghan, looking over the back of the couch to try and peer up the staircase.

“You won’t see them from there, hyung.” Seokmin doesn’t even glance in his direction, eyes focused on the TV as he speaks.

“Oh yeah, and how would you know?” He sasses back, eyebrow raised.

“The amount of things Minnie and I have done down here without being noticed while you and Hannie-hyung have been upstairs is unspeakable.” Soonyoung smirks.

Jihoon’s eyes widen at his best friend’s revelation, a laugh escaping his body as he watches his friend’s reactions.

“BABE!” Seokmin squeals, ears turning bright red as he sinks under the blanket.

“YAH!!! TOO MUCH INFORMATION!” Mingyu squeals, throwing a pillow at a now laughing Soonyoung as Wonwoo laughs loudly with him.

“My virgin ears!” Chan howls, falling dramatically against Junhui, whose mouth is hanging open in shock.

“I promise you, Sollie, they’re not always like this.” Seungkwan is whispering loudly to the newest edition of the group, who just gives an amused grin in response.

“… I don’t even want to know.” Seungcheol mutters dryly after a long bout of silence, eyes still on the staircase.

“Staring won’t make them come down any faster, you know, Hyung.” Chan speaks up again.

“I still feel bad.” Seungkwan sighs, leaning his head on Hansol’s shoulder. “If it wasn’t for me, she would have been down here having fun with the rest of us.”

“Don’t feel bad, Kwan-ah.” Soonyoung smiles, patting his shoulder. “To be honest, I think she’d be more hurt if you didn’t tell her. Trust me.”

Seungkwan is about to respond when the soft click of your bedroom door can be heard. Jihoon, along with the others, glance toward the staircase as you make your way down. You have an amused smirk on your face, and Jihoon feels uneasy. What is that look for?

His questions are soon answered when a giggle erupts from Mingyu. Jeonghan trails downstairs behind you with a grouchy look on his face, his long dark hair now pulled back into two pretty braids tied with pink elastics. Jihoon covers his mouth to hide a laugh, watching you proudly gesture towards Jeonghan.

“Wow, babe,” Seungcheol grins. “You look so pretty!”

“Shut up, you.” Jeonghan huffs, glaring at all the people who laughed. “It was the only way she would come down, so you’re welcome.” When you’re not looking, Jihoon notices Jeonghan looking at the amused look on your face, letting the playful glare fade into a fond smile, winking at Seungcheol, mouthing. “I told you I could get her down.”

“You did this all for my birthday?!” Soonyoung, always the drama queen, grins excitedly. “Oh, Y/N, you shouldn’t have!” He giggles loudly, jumping up and before you can react, he scoops you up and spins you around, making you scream.

“Yah! Put me down, you heathen!” You swat at his arms.

“NEVER!” He bellows, starting to move towards the couches before Jeonghan grabs a hold of your arm, effectively stealing you from Soonyoung’s gasp.

“Nuh-uh! She promised me she would do this with me first.” He places you at the dining table, pulling out a small box from underneath the table. “Once she’s finished here, she can join you for the movie night.”

“I’m sorry, who’s birthday is it again?” Soonyoung huffs, puffing out his cheeks and crossing his arms.

“I’ll be there soon, Soonie. Promise.” You call out. Soonyoung seems pleased by your response as he settles back in again, cuddling up to his soulmate’s side. Jihoon can see it in his best friend’s face, he’s just happy you’re down here at all.

He glances over to your brother, who instead of watching the movie, is watching his soulmate take out nail polishes and taking one of your hands. He has a fond smile on his face, watching the confused look on your face as you stare at Jeonghan.

“My nails? Why would you want to do my nails?” You ask quietly, and Jihoon can’t help but think you look cute as you tilt your head.

“I’ve always dreamed about doing this.” Jeonghan explains, starting to coat your thumb nail with a light red. “Teaching you all about colours and making it fun like this.” You watch with wide eyes as he begins to paint each nail a different colour delicately and with precision.

“But.. why me?” You frown, and Jihoon frowns with you. Did he really hurt you so far to think you didn’t deserve something as small as this?

“I taught my little sister Soobin about colours when she found her soulmate the same way. I don’t see her much now, since she moved to Jeju with him. When I found Cheol and met you, I knew that as soon as I saw you, you were meant to be my second little sister. My little Lady Bug.” You’re blinking away tears now, biting down on your lip. “Do you know why I call you Lady Bug?”

“No..” you mumble, eyes staying on the way Jeonghan paints your nails.

“You’ve always been called Love Bug. Everyone around us calls you that, right?” You nod quietly. “I couldn’t use the same nickname as everyone else. I needed it to be unique. Something that symbolizes us. My little young lady. My little Lady Bug.” He beams proudly. “Only I can call you that. I need you just as much as I need Cheol. You know that, right?” He asks softly, smiling gently as you weakly nod your head. “Promise?”

“Yeah.” You use your wrist to wipe at the fresh tear that slipped down your cheek, and Jeonghan grins at you.

“We have a little bond that no one can take from us. Sure, your brother is my soulmate, but you’re my bonus sister. I think that’s just as special.”

He starts on the second coat over your nails as you just stare at him in wonder, a small sparkle of hope running through your veins. At least someone loves and cares for you on this stupid planet.

Jihoon spots Seungcheol reach up and wipe a quick tear away from his eye, staring at the scene unfolding in front of him. Both your and Jeonghan’s soulmates are the only ones not watching the film in front of them. Instead, they’re watching you both together, too enamored to look away.

“There. What do you think?” Jeonghan smiles at you as you look at your hands. Your nails have been painted to make a pretty pastel rainbow on your fingers, and your cheeks start to lift as you, for most likely the first time since you met your soulmate, smile a genuine smile.

“Look.” Seokmin whispers to Soonyoung as everyone glances at you, smiling and staring at your hands. Soonyoung gasping softly as he looks excitedly at Seokmin.

“What’s happened..?” Hansol asks quietly at your closest friends all tearing up at one silly little smile.

“It’s just,” Seungkwan smiles softly. “This is the first time she has smiled since everything happened.”

Jihoon watches you, and it almost seems like the room started to glow brighter as your smile filled the room. His cheeks flush pink before he quickly turns his head back to the TV.

No, Jihoon. You need to be better. Ji-ah is your girlfriend, not Y/N. Get it together.

“I love them. Thank you, Hannie-Oppa.” You smile, giving him a quick hug.

“I’ve missed that smile.” Seungcheol grins after you, reaching down and ruffling your hair.

“Yah, leave me alone.” You huff, smacking his arm as you’re all but dragged by Soonyoung to the mattress on the floor, directly at the feet of Seokmin, and Jihoon who is seated beside him. You share the mattress with Chan and Junhui, all the others having made camp on the couches above you.

“Finally!” Soonyoung grins, leaning down and planting an annoyingly loud kiss on your cheek, laughing at how you shove him off. “Now we can start the movie night properly!”

“Thank you, babe.” Seungcheol smiles as Jeonghan settles beside him, leaning his head against his chest.

“Anything for you and my Lady Bug.” Jeonghan simply replies, a content smile on his face as he watches you pull the blanket up over your body.

Jihoon does his best to keep his eyes off you, but finds himself absentmindedly glancing at you on occasion. Each time, you’re staring at your freshly painted rainbow nails, a soft content smile on your lips. He smiles softly to himself in unison, before letting his focus go back to the movie.

As the film starts reaching its climax, Wonwoo finds himself chuckling at how invested his soulmate is in the plot, an amused smirk tracing his lips.

“You enjoying the movie, baby?” He chuckles as Mingyu nods excitedly.

“Mhm!” He chirps happily, snuggled up against his side.

“But you’ve seen it like 3 times already.”

Mingyu gasps, stopping and turning to Wonwoo. “And I’m not allowed to still love it?!”

“Well you can, but you already know what’s going to-”

“How dare you?!” He wails, pushing him playfully. “Are you… making fun of me, hyung?!” He pouts as Wonwoo only grins with amusement at his soulmate’s outburst. “You ARE!” He points his finger at him.

“Aww, baby…” Wonwoo pouts playfully, a teasing glint in his eye.

“AIGOO!” He whines. “Y/N! My soulmate is being… MEAN TO ME!” He howls and fake sobs, crawling onto the mattress, pushing his overgrown body into your lap.

Jihoon feels your heart begin to race, your body locking up as Mingyu makes himself comfortable in your lap, crying loudly and dramatically as he hugs you tight.

“Oh, Gyu,” You play along, gingerly reaching up and patting his hair almost robotically. “There, there.”

Your soulmate eyes you from the couch, observing as you look worriedly at Wonwoo, who simply gives you a wink, giving you permission. He knows you’re not going to try and take his soulmate away. He’s known you for years, and quite frankly, you’re not the type of person who would do that. Instead Wonwoo simply nods his head at you. “Give the baby his bottle.”

“A BABY?!” He cries out again, making a giggle come out of you as you relax a tiny bit, patting at Mingyu’s hair.

“You are a Baby.” You laugh as he starts grumbling, staying curled up in your lap, Jihoon feeling you crumble bit by bit as you comfort the overgrown puppy in your arms.

Jihoon keeps his eye on Mingyu unconsciously, his glare evident as he intensely watches and keeps his emotions intact to try and get a reading of what you’re feeling.

As the movie wraps up 20 minutes later, a huffy Mingyu, at your insistence, begrudgingly climbs out of your arms back to his soulmate, pout on display as Jihoon feels a little relief run through him.

“I’m sorry for being a brat.” Mingyu flutters his eyes at Wonwoo, who just grins and opens his arms for him.

“I was just teasing.” He chuckles as Mingyu settles into his arms once more with a kiss on his forehead. Wonwoo glances at you, giving you a little smile of appreciation, in which you nod in response.

“Okay, next movie!” Soonyoung cheers as he queues the next film to begin, a smirk on his face as your eyes light up.

“Howl’s!” You squeal happily as the familiar anime - Howl’s Moving Castle - begins.

“In TECHNICOLOUR!” Seokmin booms dramatically as you laugh loudly, the sound pleasing to Jihoon’s ears. You settle in comfortably, leaning back against the bottom of the couch. Your excitement stirs in Jihoon, and he finds himself thinking he could get used to that feeling. He lets a little smile form on his face as the film plays.

“Howl is beautiful, don’t get me wrong,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes. “But Turnip Head is just a perfect character.”

The movie had been playing for about 40 minutes now, the party growing a bit quieter as tiredness settles in on every one.

“Oh yeah, well why doesn’t Sophie pick him at the end then?” Junhui questions you. “She is his true love, she broke the spell! Why didn’t she get with him?”

Jihoon tenses at this question. He finds the character Turnip Head to be all too familiar; the way he constantly goes out of his way to follow Sophie to keep her safe, all for it to amount to nothing at the end; her choosing Howl over him. He eyes you worriedly, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Well it’s not Sophie’s fault, nor is it Turnip Head’s.” You hum. “I suppose, the heart wants what it wants. You can’t change that.” You’re a bit quieter now, curling up and hugging your knees to your chest. “I mean.. Calcifer did let Sophie into Howl’s heart. Figuratively and literally.”

Your words start drowning out in Jihoon’s ears as his mind begins to consume him once again. Goddamn it, you’re too good and too likable. How the fuck can you be so understanding and so… so good? You should loathe him, be kicking and screaming at him and turning the whole world against him for what he did to you. Instead you sit there, you let him walk all over you and apologize when he has to even interact with you. Jihoon feels like shit, for treating you like shit. You’re one of the most forgiving and understanding people ever, and he doesn’t know how to take it.

He doesn’t know how long he has been sitting still on the couch stewing in his thoughts before he feels something soft against his knee, snapping him back to reality. He blinks before his cheeks flush a deep pink as he realizes what has happened. You, despite trying your hardest to stay awake, unwillingly let sleep take over you, your head drooping and landing softly on Jihoon’s knee.

“Sorry, Jihoon-ah.” Seungcheol whispers to your soulmate. “I’ll move her-”

“No, hyung.” Jihoon replies quickly. “U-uh.. it’s okay, really. She must’ve been exhausted from today. It’s no harm.”

“Are you sure?” He asks again, and he nods quickly.

“Positive.”

Seungcheol nods and settles back down against Jeonghan, who eyes Jihoon silently from beside his soulmate, eyes narrowed slightly as he watches him glance down at you once more, peacefully asleep against his leg with a small, and what Jihoon thinks is unseen, smile on his face.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@enhacolor @jojowantstocry @changbinisms @scarlet789 @i-dont-give-a-fok @im-gemmy @shookyungsoo@friendlywraith @kawennote09 @coupddeongie @sunooschubbycheeks @zgzgzh @mar-627 @side-angel @kuleo26 @deltamoon666 @snowgirlfallen @lixiel0ver @phenomenalgirl9 @weebotakuboy @vixensss @seokmatchu

Couldn’t tag: @etaerealboy @sumzysworld @ametheyistheart @cinnamoroxie @mikachu-chu

[trashbag-baby666]

Protect-Clegan

mota greys anatomy au

Summary: read part one here! John and Gale have a difficult surgical case.

wc: 840

mota masterlist! | ao3 link

The OR held a tense almost suffocating energy to it as Gale and John worked side by side on a young patient with a brain tumor. Gale used his instruments with practiced precision, his razor shop focused on the brain tumor. 

John stood next to him monitoring vitals and calling out updates. 

Suddenly the boy's heart rate dropped, “He’s coding!” Gale called pulling his instruments back away from the boy. “Push epinephrine, now!”

“Starting compressions!” John called as he locked his gloved fingers together and delivered even compressions to the boy's chest. 

It felt like hours but in minutes the boy's heart stuttered back to life. But it wasn’t over, the boy coded twice more throughout the surgery, pushing the entire surgical team to the brink. Gale and John trading out who did compressions. 

After hours of a grueling surgery, the tumor was removed and the boy was stabilized and in a recovery room.

Gale smoothed his hands over his scrubs and glanced at John, before walking through the doors to the waiting room, John in tow.

The boy's mother shot up from her chair, “how is he?” She demanded, her voice trembling.

Gales face softened but remained professional, “The surgery was successful in removing the tumor, but there were complications during the procedure, your son’s heart stopped multiple times. He’s stable now, but we’ll need to monitor-“ 

“You let my son die on that table?” The woman yelled, her voice thick with fear, “you’re supposed to be one of the best in the country and you almost killed him!?”

Gale flinched, the weight of the words hitting him, “Ma’am, I assure you, we did everything—“

“My son could’ve died because of you!” The lady pointed accusingly at Gale, her husband stepping in as John did as well. 

“Ma’am,” he spoke, his voice calm but firm, “Doctor Cleven saved your son’s life today, without him we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.” 

The mother turned her anger onto John. “And who are you!? Another doctor who stood by and let him nearly Kill my son?” 

“I’m the surgeon who was standing right beside him.” John replied, his tone unwavering, “I watched him fight for your son’s life. Three times. No one worked harder in the OR than doctor Cleven.”  

The woman’s anger crumbled into tears as the weight of the situation set in and she sank into her husband. 

“I know this is hard,” Gale spoke up, “But your son is alive and we’ll do everything he can to assure he recovers.” 

Gale looked out over the Seattle skyline, the sun dipping below the towering buildings. He leaned on the railing looking back at John, “You didn’t have to step in like that.”

“Yes I did,” John said, coming to the edge and looking over the rail at the long way down from the rooftop, “You did everything you could and we saved him.” 

Gale wasn’t in the mood to argue with John, “Thanks,” his voice uncertain.

John patted Gales' hand and rested his on top of Gales.

Gale kept his eyes on the purpley, pink horizon, “I know you think you’re helping,” he spoke softly, “but I can’t stop hearing her words, John. What if she’s right?” 

“Doctor Gale Cleven, you’re one of the best surgeons I know…you gave that little boy your all.” 

Gale let out a bitter laugh, “it doesn’t feel like it, three times, three times that boy coded.” 

John squeezed his hand, “And three times you brought him back. Do you know how rare that is? You fought harder for that kid than anyone else could’ve. Gale you’re not just a good surgeon you’re the best surgeon…and I’ll keep  reminding you that.” 

Gale turned to look at him, his eyes glassy.  John's voice softened, his tone steady but filled with conviction. "You saved his life, Gale. And if that mother can't see that right now, it's because she's scared. Grief and fear mess with people, make them lash out at the ones who did their best."

Gale swallowed hard, his throat tight. The weight of the mother's anger clung to him like a second skin, a relentless echo in his mind. "But what if I wasn’t enough next time?"

John shook his head firmly. "Stop. You can’t live in the ‘what ifs.’ You were enough today, and that’s what counts."

The tension lingered between them, thick and raw, until John stepped closer, resting his other hand on Gale's shoulder. "Hey," he whispered, "You're allowed to feel this, okay? But don't let it convince you that you're anything less than brilliant."

Gale leaned in closer, nuzzling into John’s side, surrendering himself. John put his arm around him, pulling him impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to the top of Gale's head. “I’m the one who asked you to scrub in on the surgery, if anything I should’ve been the one getting hollered at.”

Gale shook his head, “no, you didn’t deserve it either.” he felt fully surrendered and comfortable in John's grip, away from the others, somewhere private. 

- - Taglist: @austeenbootler @coastiewife465 @executethyself35 @slowsweetlove

[lokislytherin]

lookism x pjo snippets?

og au plan is RIGHT HERE and i didn’t wanna reblog bc long posts get nerfed by tumblr sometimes but i Saw this in a dream and i gotta write it down before my shitty memory deletes it

here we go: [i’m literally jumping right to the ending bc idk what’s in the middle]

the death of jay hong, son of hades.

hyungseok didn’t know what happened.

one minute he was standing there, happily chatting to crystal and jay, and the next minute crystal’s eyes were glowing with a righteous fury hyungseok knew didn’t belong to her.

“crystal!” he shouted, parrying her sword with his own, “get a grip!”

jay tried to help him, but the daughter of zeus brushed him away like he meant nothing, her electric blue eyes solely focused on hyungseok. crystal’s blade came down on him, heavy with the wrath of the gods, and all hyungseok could do was try his best to hold her off. he’d always been better with a bow than a sword. he didn’t have time to learn all the weapons before being shoved into a quest. 

he didn’t want to hurt crystal, nor did he want her to hurt him. so all he did was defend himself, refusing to attack. she attacked him with everything she had, lightning and thunder and years of living as a demigod. 

“crystal, stop!”

she swung her blade down, her entire form wreathed in lightning. hyungseok would’ve been dead if not for jay pushing him out of the way in the nick of time. the son of hades grunted as crystal’s sword sliced a line from his shoulder to waist. his blood sparked with lightning, and the scythe in his hand clattered to the ground as he collapsed.

hyungseok took a deep breath, trying to control his world shattering around him, and with all the power he could muster, he shouted: “CRYSTAL, STOP!”

she froze where she stood, halted in time.

“jay!”

hyungseok fell to his knees next to him, trying to stop the blood. jay’s breath came in ragged gasps. “jay, stay with me, come on, you gotta stay with me!”

jay coughed weakly, and blood bubbled out of his lips. i’m okay, he tried to say, don’t worry about me.

“but you’re bleeding!”

well... he reached up to press a clammy hand against hyungseok’s cheek. better me than you, i suppose. you’ve got more to do with your life than let it end like this.

and then a hole opened up in the floor.

jay’s hand latched onto his immediately as the concrete floor under him fell away, and hyungseok grabbed onto jay’s hand with all the strength in his body. he squeezed so hard he could feel the bones in jay’s hand shift under his grip.

it was hard. jay was around the same height as him, with a similar build too, and hyungseok didn’t know how long he could last. the fight against crystal had already left him exhausted.

you have to let me go.

“no! i won’t!”  hyungseok shook his head vehemently. “ jay, you’ll fall! you’re already-” both of their hands were slippery with jay’s blood, and hyungseok almost lost his balance when a part of the pavement next to him crumbled and fell away.

jagiya, it’s okay. jay still had the energy to smile at him, even though his grip was growing slack. the underworld is my domain. i know it’s tartarus, but i’ll be fine. 

tartarus? hyungseok had heard about the rumors - tartarus was reserved as a special kind of hell for the wicked and the damned. even if he was hades’ only demigod son, there was no way jay - kind, sweet, mortally injured jay - would make it out of there alive. 

hyungseok couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing jay again. “even if you’re a son of hades, that’s still- you’ll still-”

jay’s smile turned sad. i love you, he mouthed, his lips moving around the words. more than i care about myself. so you have to let me go.

jay’s hand slipped out of hyungseok’s, and hyungseok watched him fall down, down, down, until the darkness swallowed him whole. the yawning chasm to the underworld closed with a rumbling of earth.

hyungseok couldn’t stop himself from shaking, gasping as the tears fell from his eyes. jay was gone, maybe forever.

the only thing left of his best friend - his friend who loved him too much to let him die, sacrificed himself to tartarus for him - was the jagged crack in the ground, and the blood on hyungseok’s hands.

“i swear,” he whispered, his guilt and grief fading into a red-hot, boiling rage, “i’ll destroy all of those bastard gods, every single one.”

the silence was deafening. it was like the gods were mocking him, saying i’d like to see you try, boy.

the threads of fate had already been put in motion, and there was nothing more hyungseok could do than fulfil the second half of that god-damned prophecy.

[olliethescribe]

Propaganda!

Pulling out the big guns for this @tmntausummit

Here’s a sneak peek of a future chapter called ‘Tricks’! It’s Leo-centric, and I’ll write more of it if No Crime Only Brooches makes it to 45% in this poll. I mean it.

But for now, enjoy this passage!

The last thing Leo and Ron heard as Warren was dragged away by Donnie was a very desprate “babe, help!” before the kitchen door shut. 

Leo turned back to his mentor, jerking the equivalent of a thumb in the direction of the now closed door.

“Did you know there’s just some guy living in your house? Oh, and he said he’s in love with you, so a little FYI, he might be a little loco, ya feel?” 

“Leo, he’s my fiancé.” The turtle simply blinked at him. “You watched me propose to him several times. Almost burnt down my place of work with that shoddy flash paper job. You stamped out the curtains. Ringing any bells?”

Leo titled his head to the side and quirked an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that’s the same guy?” 

“You’re messin’ with me, mate.” Ron fought the urge to sigh heavily, a frown pulling down the corners of his lips. “You gotta be.” 

“Nope!” Leo pulled up a picture on his phone and turned it around.

“Given his whole situation, I mean have you seen that chin? Your boy-toy has a very distinct face. And then there’s this guy.” The turtle shrugged, barely able to recall what the guy he’d spoken with at the breakfast table looked or sounded like. 

“Well, ‘this guy’ makes me feel right as rain. Been my only partner for the past, what’s it been, two years?” Ron smiled to himself, his previous longest relationship lasting nothing short of a month, going up in smoke much like that nightclub in Vegas. 

“And his name is…?”

“Warren Stone. He’s the love of my life.” 

“Warren, huh? Sounds familiar.” Leo scratched his chin in thought. “Well, if he means a lot to you then he means a lot to me!” 

“Fabulous. I’m glad we got that sorted.” The magician smiled slightly. “Now, now, we have plenty on the docket.”

Ron snapped his fingers, his and Leo’s mugs placed aside as his trick bag and top hat flew to him. “How’s about we start with a simple duplication spell?” 

Leo grinned, having spent the entire night up practicing. Sure, he knew he’d be training with his mentor, but he wanted to come across as capable at least. Figured that if he were already amazing at everything then Ron would be impressed. He’d have to be.

The turtle was handed a card from his mentor’s deck, Ron’s eyes on him semi-expectantly but still dulled from lack of sleep. “Already ahead of ya. Watch this!” 

With a flick of his wrist, Leo produced a second ace of clubs, holding the pair up with a flourish. He saw his mentor’s eyes light up, a grin spreading acrossing the hippo magician’s face. Congratulatory words were almost on the way out when the turtle held a finger up. “But wait, there’s more!” 

Leo clapped both hands together, his two cards becoming four. He fanned them out before fanning himself, a smile dancing on the edges of his beak. 

“Always been one to have an ace up my sleeve, y’know?” 

“Good show!” Ron leaned back against the kitchen counter, thoroughly impressed. His assistant had been studying, something he only somewhat expected out of the turtle. Leo was a teenager after all, and apparently a ninja; if Ron knew anything about that, well, he was sure his apprentice didn’t have much time to practice. 

[muiiruii]

when he’s feeling a little out of it

matsuno chifuyu & hanemiya kazutora

fluff ; age up (manga version) ; tenderness in loving another in their presence

a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve written for tokrev please be gentle if i butchered kazu’s characterization TT^TT

matsuno chifuyu had always wondered how just being by your side could put a smile so naturally on his face. when did you become an existence he could not replace? even more so, someone who he could not live without. you were warm like the sun, comforting like the moon, and the stars he tends to gaze at pales miserably in comparison to your presence. everything about you feels like home to him—the faint scent of french lavender, traces of fur, and the occasional taste of honey lemon. wherever you are was wherever he will be. and he would never ask for anything more when he have you by his side, but sometimes, on days where it’s a little blue, he found himself sinking deeper into the comfort of your presence.

“fuyu?”

you could tell he was slightly out of it when he did not catch your first call. it wasn’t the first time this had happened, and even if you weren’t told the reason behind his change in behavior, you still decided to just sit it out with him.

warm hands overlapped his clenched fists, you held onto it tightly as if to thaw the coldness creeping up his veins.

“fuyu, i’m right here with you. always.”

it took a minute or two before his fingers flinched, eyes darted over to your presence beside him.

“i know.”

he would whisper in the most gentle way that would put a smile to your face when you brought his hands up to your cheek—a cute habit he loved whenever you feel a little giddy and shy.

“thank you,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled you a tad closer, just so he could leave a sweet peck on the tip of your nose.

“for always reminding me that there’s hope.”

you may not quite understood what he meant, but you know deep down, regardless of what will happen, your decision and feelings will never change.

“thank you for always being so gentle with me.”

you giggled at the cheesiness oozing right out of your words but it was worth it. definitely, when the growing hues of pink dusted ever so shyly on his cheeks had you both chuckling at the embarrassment of feeling like two little kids confessing their love for each other again.

no matter how many times the future might change, he will forever have you etched into his heart and hope that the red strings of fate will bring you to him in every timeline he existed.

hanemiya kazutora found himself wondering why just by feeling your fingers combing through his hair had his nerves washed away and his thoughts silenced as calm as a lake. it will always remain a mystery to him, for he had never experienced anything quite like this in his entire life. it was as if you cast a sleeping spell on him whenever you hum softly under your breath; magic overflowing from the tip of your fingers to the end of his toes. that was all you need to do to build back the world that crumbled each time his thoughts intrude a little too much.

“maybe we should just head to the city office right now to update my family registry.”

“did something ha—”

there was a pause, a shift in your gear when you saw the grin tugging the corner of his lips.

“i—is that a proposal?”

you gasped, unsure if the shock was from how out of the blue his question came or the fact that he even considered marriage when you knew about his past and what he had gone through.

“maybe? i’m just blurting my feelings out loud. we can take our time, there’s no rush.”

“are you sure?”

“if it’s for you, i’ll can wait until we are—”

“—i meant with me…as in marriage.”

you gently turned his head up to face you, worried eyes with seriousness knitted in your brows as your lips parted but words stuck at the tip of your tongue.

“and why would i not be sure?”

his large hands cupped your cheeks, a soft smile hanging on his lips when watched your eyes glossed over.

“you are the very reason why i loved to see the sun each morning, the reason why i want to start all over again, why i decided to live for myself again.”

your lips trembled at his words that held the weight you would never be able to truly understand. it was always heavy and it pains you whenever he had his episodes, but all you could do was be present with him.

“instead, i should be the one to ask you. are you sure?”

“always.”

you replied in a heartbeat. one that had his eyes widened for a fraction before they disappeared behind a smile he couldn’t quite hold back.

he wondered, truly, what did he ever do to deserve you in his life after all that he had done in his past. what was god’s plan for him? was this his punishment? to finally experience something so precious that he just know if you were taken away from him, he will never be the same again. and somehow, it made him realized nothing scared him more than losing you.

“so, shall we just do it now?”

you chuckled at the goofiness in his smile when he turned around and had his arms lock around your waist. his cheeks resting ever so naturally on your thigh, and for a split second, you almost gave in at the breathtaking moment that seized your heart.

“maybe after you stop giving chifuyu-kun a hard time by slacking off as his boss.”

oh how you regretted saying that when he climbed onto your lap with a pout ever so obvious on his lips.

“are you saying chifuyu is the reason we can’t get married right now?”

for once, kazutora realized that regardless of how silly his actions or words may seem to others, somehow he couldn’t quite help it when he’s with you. like a dream, he just want you and only you to always be with him and never would he ever let you go (nor hear another man’s name from your lips).

“would you like to repeat that again?”

[dreamkidddream]

Could I request Nanami with fighting turned confession? Thank you! :)

I love Nanami with my entire being and that is not an exaggeration. Also sorry this took so long, I rewrote it so many times I lost count 😩 Reader is gender neutral!

CW: blood

“Fighting Turned Confession” Trope with Nanami!

Dream’s 800 Follower Special 📖

Nanami has always been a man of routine.

No matter how many years you’ve known him, he always stuck to a daily mundane routine. Even when he was working as a salaryman, he followed this pattern to a T, the only changes being minor inconveniences that would remind him of his adulthood. While his work ethic was something to be marveled at by his bosses, it wasn’t the same for you. It was the opposite.

The exhaustion would be clear in his eyes, continually weighing him down, seemingly growing heavier with each day. Seeing the stress and strain on his face worsen only made your concerns grow more.

He was a man glued to his routine- even if it was killing him.

“I just- I don’t understand it Nanami.”

“There’s nothing for you to understand- it’s my job.”

“A job that is obviously killing you!”

You tried not to raise your voice, you really did- but how you just continue to act as if everything is fine when it isn’t? Not when you have the front row seat of watching Nanami slowly kill himself each day, wasting away right in front of you.

“Why don’t you ever talk to me? Why don’t you want anyone to help- to let me help you? Why do you just- accept this? Why do you just keep going about your business like everything is okay when it obviously isn’t?!”

Your emotions were all over the place. You were full of anger at his nonchalance, anguish at how much pain he must have been in, fear and heartache at the fact of almost losing him-

That you were too late in saving him.

The blood currently soaking your fingers reminded you of that.

“I just- I don’t understand it.” You sighed defeated. “I don’t understand any of it. I hate seeing you like this-” you bit your lip to stop it from trembling. “It hurts so much to see you like this.”

No matter how many bandages you used or how many times he reassured you that he was okay, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe his words. The image of him worn down with bloody injuries, sometimes looking as if he was on his last limb was too engrained in your mind.

“Why does it bother you so much?”

The words you wanted to say were lodged in your throat, like you were choking on them, and you had no way to force them to come out.

His tone was pessimistic, eyes filled with irritation and defeat. As if you were wasting your time worrying about him. Caring about him.

Why do you care? Why do you care?

You mouth moved before you could think about it. Your vision was getting blurry, and something wet began trailing down your skin.

“Because I love you damn it and I don’t want you to die!”

The room fell into an eerie silence, but you could only focus on the heartbeat pumping in your ears, your chest heaving from trying to catch your breath.

For once, Nanami was rendered speechless, eye widened and frozen in place.

“I don’t want to think that every time I see you would be the last time. That I would never get to see you again. That the next time I would talk to you would be in a casket or at a tombstone.” You couldn’t stop trembling at the thought, and it made you feel a cold sense of dread at the pit of your stomach each time.

You wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not having Nanami in your life would put an end to your colorful world. It was a selfish request, but you didn’t want to lose Nanami.

It was getting harder to stand up with how much your form was shaking, but you were trying to keep any resemblance of strength that you could in order not to crumble to the ground. But the longer your mind ran rampant with the notion that you were getting closer and closer to losing Nanami, the more your legs began to fail.

“I admire you, Kento. I always will, but I’m scared that one day you’ll- you won’t be- that I’ll find you-”

It wasn’t you felt yourself being pulled, your head colliding with something warm and firm. Arms wrapped around you to keep you their, and the sound of a steady beat filled your ears. You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore and hid your face in chest, fists balled tightly.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” You sobbed, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Why?”

Nanami asks himself this same question every day.

He used to think the same way- what brought him to return to the very job that he loathed? What caused him to come back to the very job that he walked away from years ago?

It was you.

It was the ability to have innocent people be safe and to continue to smile, living their life freely as they should without worry. To know that he was making an impact to keep that a reality was enough to keep him motivated, and push his aggravations to the side.

If having to face thousands of curses and putting his life on the line meant your safety, that you would still be alive, then it was worth it.

Even if it were to end in his death, he would have truly lived his life without regrets knowing that he protected you to the very end.

“Because I love you-” Nanami lifted up your chin delicately, moving to wipe away your tears with his thumb. He placed his forehead against yours, mahogany eyes gazing into your own. They were full of tiredness just like the small smile, but also showed sincerity, having that same calming effect that it always did.

They weren’t as dull anymore.

“-and I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

[mochikeiji]

Gojo Satoru

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: bby gojo having heavy thoughts and sadness after everything. (pls hug) angst to fluff.

↠ a/n: ironically, his name is the title for this xD also thank you so much for the love from my recent works o(^▽^)o♡ have my love too!

↬ Word Count: 1.9k

Everyone has their beginnings. While some were blessed to start out life with good fortune and the right path, there were some who struggled through their way in living. For Gojo? He didn't really care. Not when he was already being worshipped for being born in this world, not when as a child he had barely lifted a finger before his life was already planned out for him. It was as if he was simply taking the red carpet to luxury. He already has everything. Truly, he claimed, he was indeed the honored one.

He wasn't one to be wary of his own feelings. What was there to be thought about if he doesn't know what are these stuff running through his head? Not that he should give a single mind to it. 

But as he sat down at the tub of his bathroom— tweezers between his fingers, one at a time he plucks out the small shards of glass that had dug themselves onto his skin from the previous mission he was sent on solo, he started to wonder why he was staring blankly at the crimson liquid trailing down his damaged skin. Why did he felt so empty?

Maybe if Shoko were around to patch him up, he would've have had someone to pester for the day. Maybe he wouldn't have gone home to the lonesome apartment he owns, hissing at the pain from each shard taken out of his body.

Pain

That was strange. He never experienced that. Not even when he's in battle with the strongest forms of curses. No matter how many gashes of wounds he's collected, they always heal themselves quickly. It was unfamiliar that it began to frustrate him. He doesn't like it. Not one bit. It hurts. It hurts so much, yet why was there still something making his heart clench?

Loneliness. Abandonment. Broken.

Gojo was a fool for losing the only person that has come close to understanding him. If only he understood what Geto was going through; if he knew what the hell were all those troubles and emotions were maybe he would've still had his only best friend here with him. But no. It slowly came crashing down on Gojo's eyes that though he was the honored one,

He was the lost one.

A broken soul being held by strings as he was only guided to follow along the path that was planned out for him, but never what he planned for himself.

Why was he remembering all of these now? It had been years after the downfall. He should've moved on from it, be the usual cherry top, annoying idiot he was to his students and colleagues. God, he hates this. Falling, falling, falling.

Only the weak fall

Was a statement drilled into his system right from the start. The never ending worship that has earned him the title of being the "strongest" was what he kept pursuing. Believing.

Was the Gojo Satoru at his weakest point?

"Fuck." the unusually large shard of glass falls on the tiled floor, removed from the left side of his chest. Near to the scar that trails from the base of his throat and down to his navel; the reminder of why he shouldn't be left vulnerable at any cost. The hideous flaw that will forever be marked on his body, the one he desperately hides behind those prideful remarks and grinning faces. It saddens him, it hurts him, it angers him. It makes himself lose his own sanity.

The stinging started to kick in on his chest, no longer can he tell if it was from the wound or the clenching of his heart. He was strong, he was suppose and always will be strong. "Why?" the tub cracks from his grip. His free hand coming up to his eyes, eyes that people loved enough to fall in a trance— enemies crumbling and begging for mercy upon them.

Gojo felt ashamed.

Shameful. He grits his teeth hard when the small trickle of the uncharacteristic tear falls from the heavenly eye. It falls down to the porcelain surface, mixing with the trail of blood that was slowly draining down, "Why?" he finally looks down at the fatal wound, attempting to stop the bleeding with his bare hands pushing his chest. The blood smearing all over his upper body, shading the past scar that it made it look like it was there again.

"Why?"

Gojo speaks a little louder, sweating profusely as the dam inside him broke. Like an endless waterfall it was the tears fall. It made him sick. This was all not him. This wasn't the known shaman in the jujutsu world. This wasn't the boy raised from the family of the strongest. This wasn't the strongest.

"Stop."

This wasn't any of him.

"Make it stop."

Then who was he?

"Please, make it stop."

"Satoru?"

Entire body freezing. It was the first time he felt fear rushing through his veins; the fear of being seen like this. It wasn't because he didn't trust you. Good gracious, you were the last and only person Gojo ever holds onto after the years being glued together by faith and his attempts of flirting. No, he didn't want you to see this unknown person that was sitting in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Right, he forgot he was living with you.

Huh, he forgot. You were there.

There knelt down to his level, wide eyes meeting the now visible broken ones that was glossy with tears. With careful movements you raised an arm to eye level, pleading silently for permission to touch him. And for the time, Gojo was actually wary. He's faced a lot in the years spent as a sorcerer, as the strongest. Never the weakest. So when your lips curled into the same smile you'd give him during your moments of vulnerability. The cute, little curve you give when you couldn't help but just admire him or when you're about to utter out his 3 favorite words, he finds himself leaning forward to rest his cheek against the warmth of your palm. He allows the pestering tears to fall omly to be caught with your thumbs, shooing them away from his features.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

When your hand pulls away for a short moment, Gojo silently whines at the lost of contact. The tightness in his chest coming back. The feeling of abandonment crosses his head for a second before you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, holding up the tweezers he had dropped a while ago, "I'm here now."

I'm here now

That was his line. His line for when there was someone in need of help. The line that shimmers hope on the darkest moments of anyone's life. The line of the strongest. The ones who were only truly honored of saying.

Hope. It had a different form today. One that was right in front of him, plucking out every leftover shard on his body with gentleness he never got to witness as a child. The soft cooes and from time to time kisses on his scalp made his senses more focused on there rather than the stinging sensations running through his skin. Exactly how people react when there is hope.

And where there is hope,

"I love you, Satoru."

There is love.

Warm water from the shower cap started pouring down to his tensed muscles, washing out the combined dirt and blood away from him, cleansing his own form of curses that has shaken up his being. When did you finish patching him up? And why wasn't it as painful as it was when he did it?

He watches you move the small container that reeked of the scent of his blood and that inflicted his injuries far from his sight. Immediately, Gojo felt empty once more and was about to call you when you came back holding fresh towels on your hands. "Do you want me to join you?" he couldn't say yes faster than ever, almost as if he was relieved when you offered.

When you had finally stripped yourself off of your clothes and settled in between his long legs, there was nothing but the sound of the shower on echoing in the room with the two of you just staring back to one another.

Too good to be true, you were.

Gojo wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you how thankful he is that you were here to pull him away. To save his life, but all he could do was stare back into the void that of before. He sees the way your hands map around his torso in attempt to rinse him completely. Coming in contact with the old and new scar, softly tracing them as you felt his eyes wonder to yours. There was no sign of disappointment nor a hint of harm or disgust. Only something he never understood that it made him sob unexpectedly, startling you that left you pulling him into your embrace which he latches his face onto your neck and arms surrounding your body whole.

He cries.

All the frustration of not knowing whatever was happening, the mistakes he wishes to correct and the past he hoped to save along with the title he swore to maintain. It all falls on the smaller body he treasures in his arms at this very moment. He clutches, he palms, he roams. Whatever he can do just so he can fully grasp the idea that someone was there. You were there, and he wasn't alone anymore.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."

It would shock the world and break the hearts of many to hear these very words uttered from the mouth of the honored one. And Gojo wishes that everyone could hear it. That it would somehow reach the skies to wherever his best friend was too. To you, the person he loved the most. He was sorry that he wasn't the Gojo Satoru in your eyes.

"No, Toru. No." you push him back gently only to pull him in for a soft kiss, "I don't need you to always be the strongest. Let alone apologize for being vulnerable." he listens as he nuzzles against the palms meeting his face. The ones that held him together when he was falling apart.

His lips wobbled a bit when you land kisses on his scars, "These may not have been the good ones in your life, but these do not make you for who you are, Satoru." he hums in content when you rub down to his chest soothingly, the feeling that you has him yearning for more. Needing for more, "It's okay to be lost, and it's okay to be weak. But it'll never define you."

"I need you to be just you."

You pull him down, letting him cry all his heart out to your naked chest. He let's you have your way to him. The emotions, words, and treatment. All so unfamiliar. And he finds himself wanting. Needing more.

All his life he thought he had it all.

But never in his life has he lived it.

"What am I, (Y/n)?"

Cooing softly as the small of his voice. Like the child who never got to experience what love was. The child raised to already has to burden such responsibilities and stand. Gojo can feel himself breathe in relief as he whispers an "i love you" with a small kiss on your skin when you uttered out the words that has set his locked up self free. Free from the strings that's been taking over. The cage he was kept from all of his living.

The curse of his gift

And being honored of what he truly deserves.

"You're Gojo Satoru."

Just Gojo Satoru.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[earlgreydream]

pay attention.

| loki x reader | fluff |

anon requested. you only pay attention to me when I misbehave

You’d been nothing short of angelic.

For the last week, you’d been extremely sweet and obedient, doing everything Loki asked and more. All you wanted was his attention and affection, but even your lovely attitude hadn’t earned it.

Once again, he prioritized work with the avengers over tending to you, a bad habit he slipped into when stress built up. You knew his job was important, that he was needed, but you got frustrated as his time with you dwindled.

Obviously you knew that Loki would never intentionally hurt you, and you should’ve just talked to him about it. When you’d asked him to sit with you or help you with something, he’d brushed you off with a “later” until it became never.

Your frustration built, finally bubbling to the surface on a particularly stormy Thursday, when he was saddled with work at the compound. Gone in meetings all day, with paperwork looming over him.

.

“Loki,” your voice was small, barely audible to ears other than his.

You rocked on your feet, knowing he didn’t appreciate you interrupting him. You’d slipped into the conference room during a meeting, effectively cutting off the conversation between him and Steve and Tony, men who intimidated you.

“I’m working. Go, behave,” Loki said dismissively, barely looking at you.

“But daddy,” you whined softly, breathing out the endearment that was typically reserved for privacy.

“What did I say?” His tone was threatening, and he turned in his chair when you didn’t move.

Both Tony and Steve were watching the two of you tensely, feeling like this was a moment they almost shouldn’t be witnessing. They’d both heard the change in his voice, recognizing his annoyance.

You opened your mouth to reply, when his hand wrapped around your forearm, easily tugging you closer to his body.

“What happened to my good girl?” He asked, trapping you between his knees and effectively embarrassing you in front of his two colleagues.

“Stop,” you whispered, your resolve crumbling as he publicly manhandled you.

“You’re going to be a brat and now you’re going to be shy?” Loki asked, almost taunting you.

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes, catching his gaze for the first time. Tears welled in your waterline, spilling down your cheeks as you spoke.

“You only pay attention to me when I misbehave.” The hurt in your voice was obvious enough, but you pulled yourself from your stunned boyfriend.

“Darling-” Loki tried to call after you as your drew back.

“I’m sorry,” Loki apologized to Steve and Tony before hurrying out of the conference room after you.

He discovered you in your shared suite, your knees pulled to your chest as you knelt on the corner of the bed.

Guilt swelled in his chest. It hurt to see you cry and to hear the pained accusation. He knew you were right, unable to deny his own absence from your life. He hadn’t meant to, you were the most important thing to him, but his work had slowly edged your time out of his day.

“My darling, can you look at me please?” Loki’s voice was gentle and soft, his hands laying over your elbows.

You peered up from under wet lashes, your bottom lip trembling. Seeing you so sad broke Loki’s heart, immense guilt washing over him.

“I am so sorry. Please, forgive me. I’ve not given you near as much attention as I should.”

“I tried to be good but you didn’t notice. I just want you to notice me,” you cried softly, now afraid of being punished for interrupting his meeting.

“I know, my darling. I notice you now.”

He gently moved you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you. You sank back into his chest, your hands going to his bicep that was draped over your front.

His lips pressed to the top of your head, his hand squeezing your hip.

“My sweet baby,” Loki hummed, smiling into your hair when you turned your face into his arm.

“How can I make it up to you?” He grew serious.

“I just want you to spend time with me.”

You leaned your head back, looking up into his eyes. You were still sniffling, your cheeks puffy and stained with tears.

“Oh, my darling. I will happily spend time with you. I’m all yours,” Loki promised, his fingers gently stroking over your cheek. He leaned down and tenderly kissed your lips, cradling your face in his large hands.

“Shall we clean you up first?” Loki asked.

You nodded, slipping off of his lap. He gently cleaned your face, pressing kisses to the tip of your nose and the corners of your eyes. 

“What shall we do?” He asked once your face and hands were clean.

“Will you make some cookies with me?” 

You’d been meaning to bake them for the two of you, but you favored doing it together, hoping he’d agree. Loki earned a smile when he nodded, walking with you to the kitchen, his fingers laced in yours. 

He loved you, happy to bake with you if that is what would please you. He hadn’t realized how much he’d neglected you until he realized how nice it was to give you his entire attention. You gasped softly, laughter escaping your lips as he turned you around, kissing you feverently. 

You moaned softly into the kiss, your hands resting against his solid chest. You smiled, giggling as he kissed your cheek. 

“I think Tony has some chocolate chips hidden in the cabinets we could use,” Loki said, lifting you up onto the counter. He hung onto your hips as you searched through the cabinets, digging through baking supplies. 

You squealed, holding up a bag of chocolate chips, grinning down at your boyfriend. You handed them down, along with the other ingredients before he pulled you back to the floor. 

“What if Tony gets mad?”

“He won’t, darling,” Loki promised, kissing your head and helping you mix the ingredients in a large bowl. 

You snuck a couple of chocolate chips, thinking you were being secretive. Loki caught your wrist before you could put another in your mouth, startling you.

“No ma’am,” he said, eating it out of your fingers.

“That was mine daddy,” you protested, pouting. 

“You’ve had quite enough, save them for the cookies,” Loki chastised you gently, knowing your proclivity to accidentally overindulge in sweets until your stomach ached. 

You didn’t argue, letting him put them away before sliding the tray of cookies into the oven. You sat on the countertop in front of him, opening your knees for him to stand between. 

“Can I have a kiss?” You asked the god.

“Of course.”

He kissed you sweetly, his fingers threading into your hair at the base of your head. You parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Loki apologized, his expression going serious.

“Loki?” You pulled away, concerned that you’d done something wrong.

“I’m sorry for not spending enough time with you. I want to make sure you know that you’re my world. And I love you, so much.”

“I love you too.”

You leaned in and kissed him forcefully, pulling Loki into your body. He melted against you, comforted by your forgiveness.

[bonky-n-steeb]

this probably isn’t a good idea but this has been bobbing in my head for awhile…what if bucky had killed one of y/n’s close family members like their sibling or parent(s) or anything like that while he was winter soldier and they’re one of the people on bucky’s list in tfatws to make amends and he’s like taking them on dates and stuff to show them he’s sorry and he remembers their family member and bucky ends up catching feelings for them??

this is probably a TERRIBLE idea and i’m probably making myself look DUMB MAYBE U COULD MAKE IT A LOT BETTER IDKXKENDDN I ADORE YOU AND YOUR BLOG EEEE

Thank you!!!! You made me blush. 🥰 This is an AMAZING idea and I’ll come there and bonk you if you ever again say it’s terrible. Ily 😘 I hope you like it!

the sun and the shadow

𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || angst with a happy ending

this is not proofread :/

This reminds of that post I’d seen where it was like you go on a date with Bucky and he tells you he killed your grandma 😂

Bucky wanted to tell you. He really did. But how could he? How could he tell you about his heinous crimes when you were all he had.

Bucky still remembered your first meeting. He had cancelled the names above you on the list and now it was your turn. It was simple, he was going to confess and apologise and walk away towards a new day.

His therapist had said it would help him. He still didn’t know how removing the scabs on his wounds would ever be good for him; but he did it nonetheless.

And it was probably helpful. He could sleep much better at night knowing that there wasn’t anything to hide anymore. But he would never say this out loud; he had a grumpy reputation to maintain after all.

But then he’d met you. You were waiting for some blind date at a restaurant when he had approached you. He was about to introduce himself but before that, you’d considered him to be your blind date.

You couldn’t believe that the white wolf was your blind date. The one and only Bucky Barnes. Like were the avengers on tinder too?

Bucky thought maybe it was for the better and had started talking with you. I’ll tell her at the end of the night, he told himself. But just like your actual date, the end of the night never came.

And one date, extended to two; and two became three, and it went on. Bucky hadn’t told you he wasn’t your actual date and neither did he tell you that he had killed your only brother.

He had been on a mission where along with a few others, he had killed your brother. Back then, the soldier didn’t feel any remorse. He wasn’t programmed to feel. But now the guilt ate him every moment of his life.

He knew that the day the truth would spill out, was the day you’d leave him. And just the thought of losing you brought upon immeasurable pain.

You were filled with life and your eyes twinkled with hope as you spoke and he couldn’t blame himself for wanting to have a share of your light. You were the sun and he was the shadow.

There wouldn’t be a shadow without the sun just like there wouldn’t be darkness without light. And he too would cease to exist without you.

Hydra had sucked out his memories and emotions. And even after his memories were back, he never thought he’d ever feel again. But then you made him feel.

He felt proud when you laughed at his jokes and he felt happy when you baked cookies. He felt jealous when someone looked at you the wrong way and he felt sad when you cried. Most importantly, he felt love every time he saw you.

But today was going to be the most difficult day he was yet to live. Today was your brother’s death anniversary and you had trusted him enough to ask him to be with you when you visited your brother’s grave.

He couldn’t deny you that. But he couldn’t keep this secret any longer either. He was finally going to tell you. Even if you slapped him and walked away, he would take the pain you gave willingly.

Bucky patiently waited for you in his car. When you came out of your house and sat besides Bucky, your eyes were red rimmed and he was pretty sure you had cried the previous night.

He asked you if you were fine and only when you nodded did he start his car. The entire ride you both were silent. You were lost in the memories of your brother while he was debating when to tell you.

When you reached the graveyard, you walked towards your brother’s grave while Bucky stood at a distance. He knew you needed some alone time with him.

You placed the flowers you had brought near the gravestone and quietly leaned against it. You wanted to tell him so much, but at the same time you couldn’t quite speak a word.

Never in your life had you thought he’d leave you so soon. But fate was cruel and death always took the best people. You just hoped he was happy and at peace wherever he was.

Every year after his passing, you’d come here and tell him the highlights of your year. This time was no different; you him about your promotion, your new car and most importantly Bucky.

Bucky was nothing like you’d expected him to be. He was caring, resourceful and loyal. He was a gentleman through and through. You were sure your brother and Bucky would be friends if he were alive.

Once you were done, you walked towards Bucky with a smile. He on the other hand looked tense and worried. “I want to tell you something.”

You nodded him to go ahead. “I… I killed your brother.” There was no point sugar coating it. Now that it was out of his system, he felt much better; though he knew what was to come.

“What?” You couldn’t digest words that fell on your ear. “When I was the winter soldier.. I, uh… I murdered him.”

He saw how your face crumbled, how your nose scrunched up and how the tears rushed to your eyes. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

You walked behind until your back hit a tree and sagged against it. “Go away. Please.” Your voice was hoarse from all the crying and there was an underlying pain in it.

Bucky wanted to hold you and tell you how much he loved you. But the he was cause of your misery, wasn’t he? He had been selfish; if he had told you on the first day itself you wouldn’t feel this heartbreak.

Holding your head in your palms, you tightly closed your eyes and refused to watch him walk away. And the only question you asked to god, again and again was, why?

~~~

The tv screen was playing some football match as Bucky sat on the floor of his house, loathing himself. There were discarded beer bottles and leftover chips just laying around on the floor.

He knew he was supposed to clean the house and go to work. But he didn’t feel like doing anything. No matter what he did, your thought never left his mind.

He missed it when the first time it happened, but the second time his ears perked up when he heard the bell go off. Someone was here to visit him. He was 99% sure it must be Sam.

Before answering, he checked his phone. He almost gasped when he noted it been two whole days since the incident and he hadn’t even realised. God lord, he needed to get it together.

When he opened the door, he saw the last person he expected to, you. You offered him a bright smile when you saw him and he returned it back. Everything didn’t seem so difficult anymore.

“Um, hey!” He didn’t know why your mood suddenly became awkward. He followed your eyes and looked down. He wanted to smack himself when he realised he was practically naked save for his boxers.

“Oops! Wait a minute!” Bucky replied as he sprinted back into his bedroom. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen him in his boxers, but right now it was purely awkward.

When he came back, he was wearing a Henley and sweatpants. “Hi!” He shyly ran his hands through his hair. “I thought it was… over.” Bucky felt heavy even while saying it out loud.

“Do you want it to be?” Your intentions of coming here were much different. “No. I…” Bucky couldn’t say anything further. “I want us to be together.”

Bucky stared at you as if he’d seen a ghost. Did you just say that or was he imagining it? “But I…” You sighed as you began speaking,

“Yeah I know. I thought a lot in these two days. What you did wasn’t up to you. I can’t blame you for what hydra did. It wasn’t at all your fault.

And Bucky I love you.” Without being able to stop for a moment, he engulfed you into a bear hug. “You… you forgive me?” He was the happiest he had ever been.

“Bucky, there is nothing to forgive. But if it makes you happy, then yes I forgive you.” Oh, how had Bucky yearned to listen to those words.

“I have to tell you two things too.” You pouted, what did he want to tell you now? “Second, I’m not your actual blind date. I came there to tell you about your brother but you considered me your date and I couldn’t stop you.”

Bucky was shocked to see you laughing. “I… I know!” Bucky stared at you with wide eyes. “That idiot called me a day later and told me his boss told him to work over time so he couldn’t come. And I knew it definitely wasn’t you who was supposed to be coming.”

Bucky chuckled as he pulled you closer. “And what’s the first thing?” You asked in a sultry tone. “The first thing is,… I love you.”

You pulled his face down and kissed him. “As much as I love you, I need you to take a bath Bucky. You stink!” Bucky winked back, “Anything for you doll.”

[zachsreaderinserts]

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.