#i must have done something bad or wrong to deserve to feel like this all the time with no way out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonstruckme · 5 months ago

Note

okay sooo mae i have this idea for emt!marauders! you know how some people have mistaken appendicitis/ruptured appendix for bad period cramps (bc period education is so abysmal). im imagining a reader who thinks they’re having the worst period pain ever and the marauders are trying to help, but once reader describes their symptoms the boys are like ‘uhmmm no babes you literally need an organ removed rn’.

i hope you are having the best day <3 sending you all the good vibes!! <3

Sending good vibes back, thank you lovely <33

cw: stomach pains, mention of hospital/surgery

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 974 words

“Shh, I know, baby.”

“You don’t,” you moan bitterly, pushing your face harder into Sirius’ lap and clutching your heating pad to your stomach.

“I—yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry.” He continues to toy with your hair, fingernails scratching lightly at your scalp in an attempt to soothe you. On the other end of the couch by your feet, James watches you with a sad puppy look. Sirius’ hand brushes across your temple, and he makes a sympathetic whining sound. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re hot.”

“It hurts,” you whine in earnest.

“Do you want some brownies?” Remus peeks out of the kitchen. “I’m almost done with these, but you’re welcome to some batter if you can’t wait.”

You nibble your lip, looking at him apologetically. “I don’t think I feel well enough to eat anything.”

Remus gives you a compassionate look and disappears back into the kitchen. Another wave of sudden, sharp pain makes you suck in a breath, curling tighter in on yourself. Sirius coos.

“Fuck, what did I do to deserve this?” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. “It’s never usually this bad.”

“Does it hurt in your back, too, angel?” James leans forward, rubbing tentatively at the base of your spine.

“No, not—not this time. It’s so weird.”

His eyebrows bunch. “Why don’t you at least have some of your tea? That usually helps, doesn’t it?”

You press your face into Sirius’ stomach. He palms the back of your head protectively, thumb rubbing the skin by your ear. “Honestly, thank you, but I really don’t think I can.

“You should, dove,” says Remus, coming in from the kitchen to crouch by your head. He takes your tea and presses it into your hands, brushing a kiss against your hairline when you take it. “Sit up and have a few sips before it gets cold.”

Reluctantly, you do as you’re told, allowing Sirius to help you into a seated position. He pulls you gently into his lap, making sure your heating pad stays situated, and you raise the cup to your lips. James rubs your ankle encouragingly while you drink.

“What’s wrong?” he asks at your pinched expression.

You mash your face into Sirius’ shoulder, ashamed. You feel horribly dramatic. You must have the lowest pain threshold in the whole world. “I can’t decide whether to go to the toilet. I feel like I could be sick, but moving makes it hurt worse.”

Remus takes your cup from you, setting it back on the table. He’s frowning. “Moving makes it worse?”

You nod miserably.

He touches his knuckles to your forehead, brows stitching together. “How long have you been feeling nauseous?”

You make a low, piteous sound. It feels impossible to think clearly with your stomach radiating hurt. “I dunno. I think it’s because of the pain.”

“Was it the same time that the cramps started?”

“I think so.”

“Alright, thanks, sweetheart.” He kisses the space between your brows. “Do you mind if we check on something really quickly?”

You feel your eyebrows furrow. You’re about to ask what he means when James takes your heating pad, pulling it off of your middle.

“Just for a second,” he promises at your distressed expression. “I’m gonna feel your stomach, okay?”

You nod, wanting whatever this is over with so you can get your heating pad back, but when James’ fingers push gently into your lower abdomen, the pain triples. You cry out.

“It’s okay,” Sirius coos, holding you tighter to his chest while James backs up to allow you to fold your knees in again. “It’s okay, baby, he’s done.”

“Jamie,” Remus asks softly, “would you get us a bag ready, please?”

You blow air out through your mouth, trying to calm yourself as the pain fades back to the way it was. Sirius pets the back of your head, his other arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. “A bag for what?” you ask weakly.

Remus looks at you, his face conveying both apology and tenderness. “We’re going to go to the hospital,” he says slowly.

“Wha—why?” You feel immediately frantic. Tears press at your eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“He’s telling you why, baby, listen.” Sirius kisses your head.

“You’re not having period cramps,” Remus says patiently. “The good news is, we can fix it. The pain will go away, and you’ll be completely fine. But to do that, we need to go to the hospital so you can have your appendix taken out.”

As he explains, Sirius is pressing kiss after kiss into your hair, holding you close and rubbing your back when you get upset. You make your dissent known, but Remus is calm and understanding. He answers your questions honestly, tells you about the procedure, promises they’ll be with you for as long as you’re awake. Before long, James has returned with a backpack of supplies for an overnight stay and your pillow under his arm.

He sets them both down on the coffee table. Slips one arm behind your shoulders, another beneath the crooks of your knees.

“No sense in walking when you’re poorly, right angel? Sirius, you can carry her things, yeah?”

Sirius groans as he slings the backpack over his shoulder. “Fuck, did you pack all her books?”

“Just the essentials.” James kisses the bridge of your nose. “Wouldn’t want you getting bored in there. You doing alright?”

“I don’t see how it can get worse,” you manage. You know you must look awful, eyes red from withheld tears and face creased with pain. James’ brows hook sympathetically.

“At least you’ll feel better in a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus answers for you. He sets a palm on top of your head as he moves past you both to get the door. “We’ll have you all fixed up soon, dove.”

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roosterforme · 3 months ago

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Mr. Right Now Part 11 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you told Jake you wanted him to come find you, there was no stopping him. He couldn't make you need him the same way he needed you, but he would take care of whatever made you cry. When you hurt Jake, you hurt yourself, too. He deserved an apology that you were ready to give him, and then he gave you more than you could have hoped for.

Warnings: angst, adult language, fluff, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Jake whipped along the dark, quiet streets of Coronado before crossing the bay bridge at twenty over the speed limit in his truck. You called him. He thought his number never even made it into your phone, but after almost two weeks, you called him. Your voice sounded distraught, but when he went out on a limb, suggesting he come find you himself, you readily agreed. Now he just needed to figure out why you were upset and make sure you weren't hurt.

"Come on," he growled at the red light where he needed to turn left. There wasn't much traffic this late, but it still had been fifteen minutes since you called, and he didn't want to keep you waiting. Not when he heard the tears in your voice. Not when he missed you so much, it felt like part of him was lost.

Something must have happened. If he had done a better job with you, maybe you'd have been back at his place again tonight, safe and sound. That was exactly what he wanted. He hadn't cracked open a college textbook in almost eight years, but that didn't stop him from imagining you doing your classwork on his couch while he offered his two cents here and there. He'd been so damn desperate to feel as good as he had when you were there two weekends ago, he ordered himself your favorite kind of pizza tonight. If he thought it tasted bad before, it was a hundred times worse without you on his lap teasing him.

When he made it to your campus, he found the street you told him over the phone, and he drove a little slower, eyes darting from one side of the street to the other. He was tempted to call your number back to be sure he was on the right track when his gaze caught on a bench across the next intersection.

It was you. Your head was in your hands, staring at the ground, but he recognized your Converse sneakers as soon as his headlights shone on them. You had on the cutest dress imaginable, and all Jake wanted to do was make sure you were okay.

He pulled his truck up to the curb and killed the engine, and you looked up at him as soon as he hopped out. You were illuminated by a streetlamp, shivering on the bench, and he ran to get to you faster. Tears streaked your cheeks as you stared up at him like he wasn't real, and he sank down onto his knees on the rough sidewalk at your feet.

"Darlin'," he whispered as more tears filled your eyes. "Tell me what's wrong."

You only got one word out before fresh tears fell. "Jake."

He scooted a little closer, and you let him take your hand in his. "You can trust me. I meant it when I said that." As he ran his thumb along your knuckles, he added, "If you tell me what's wrong, I'll try to fix it."

You hung your head and took a deep breath. "I'm such an idiot." Your eyes were closed, long lashes resting on your damp cheeks as you whispered, "I shouldn't have bothered you. Can you just give me a ride back to my dorm?"

"Hey," he coaxed, giving your hand a little squeeze. "I'll make sure you get back safely, but I can't help with whatever caused the tears unless you tell me what happened."

Your eyes fluttered open as you licked your lips. They parted in silence, and Jake was close enough now to feel your warm breath on his cheek. You were hesitating. Reluctant. You were never like this with him before. He was used to you making demands and walking around his place like you owned it, and he found that was how he preferred things. But he waited for you to speak, simply stroking your knuckles with his thumb until you were ready.

"Cooper happened. And it was awful."

Even the name made Jake's skin crawl. He'd been thinking about that stupid kid since the first time you mentioned him, but right now, anger burned just beneath the surface of his skin as he asked, "What did he do to you?" When you tried to hide your face, Jake ran his palm along your cheek and guided your gaze back to his. "Did he hurt you, Darlin'?"

The sentence hung in the air as Jake's throat grew tight. One more tear slid down your cheek as he examined your beautiful face, and you pressed your quivering lips together. Your lack of response was enough for him to get to his feet, and he pulled you up from the bench as well. He tried his best to stay calm, but he could hear the anger in his voice when he asked, "Where is he? I will fucking destroy him."

You responded by taking a step closer until your cheek was resting on his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you. Some of his rage melted away at your touch. Goosebumps covered your arms as you shivered, and he couldn't help but kiss your forehead. Maybe that gesture was why you finally spoke more than a few words, or maybe it was because you could still feel the anger inside him. Either way, Jake held you close as you said, "Cooper did exactly what I gave him permission to do. No need to destroy him."

"Did he hurt you?" he asked again, needing a straight answer.

"No."

"Do you want me to beat the shit out of him anyway?"

You laughed in spite of your tears, and the sound made Jake's heart clench in his chest. "Kind of. But it's all my fault for being so stupid."

"Look at me," Jake said softly. He waited until you did before he said, "You're not stupid. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way when I called you naive. You're young, but you're not stupid."

"I am though," you replied immediately, hand coming up to rest on his chest. "You were so sweet to me. A perfect gentleman. A perfect weekend. And then I just fucking threw it in your face and had sex with Cooper."

Jake let out the breath he had been holding. He wasn't really surprised. That was your main goal the whole time, and you were a good student. You knew what you wanted, and you went for it. But some twenty year old dipshit wasn't going to be able to handle your level of class. He'd been trying to show you that all along. "Let me guess, Darlin'. Cooper wasn't a perfect gentleman?"

You shook your head, and Jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. "It was terrible," you told him. "I just... I messed up somehow."

"Fuck," Jake murmured, hoping the answer to his next question didn't make him want to pull the bench out of the ground and throw it across the street. "Did he use a condom?"

Your eyes were sincere in the glow from the streetlight. "Of course I made sure he used a condom." You bit your lip and added, "You're the only one who can fuck me without one. That was lesson number twelve."

Even the thought made him dizzy. "Just me," he grunted.

Jake hadn't stopped wanting you for a minute since you kissed him at the bar, but tonight, he found you sitting on a bench on a sketchy side street, crying over another guy. And that really fucking hurt. But at least you made sure Cooper used a condom. At least you were safe.

"He was nothing like you were," you whispered, and he held you tighter. "I asked him for some extra foreplay, and he didn't know how to touch me. I told him I liked oral sex, but he just automatically assumed I'd go down on him instead. I can't believe I did all of this so wrong."

When you tried to remove your hand from his chest, he covered it with his own. "You didn't do anything wrong. I can promise you that. Maybe... you just don't belong with that asshole." Jake sighed and fought the urge to kiss your lips, because he knew you belonged with him, even if you weren't quite there yet. "As long as you're okay, I'll take you back to your dorm. But... maybe in a couple days or a few weeks, when you think you're done crying over Cooper... maybe you'd consider calling me again?" Your eyes went wide as he added, "I really am done with the tag chasers. I haven't been with anyone since you. I think you were my final straw in admitting to myself I wanted something more. Because being with you felt perfect."

"Jake!" you gasped loudly. "I'm not crying over Cooper. I'm crying over how badly I messed things up with you!"

Jake's brow furrowed. "Oh." Now he felt like the idiot. He also felt a little light headed as you leaned in closer.

"I'm so sorry for making you feel cheap," you whispered, eyes shimmering with more tears. "Because you're not. I didn't mean it. I got scared of how much we did together in such a short amount of time. But it was unbelievable how special you made me feel." When he tried to say something, you shook your head before you touched your lips gently to his and asked, "Was it just a normal weekend for you, or did you feel as good as I did? And I'm definitely not just talking about the physical stuff."

"Darlin'," he whispered, wiping your tears away as they fell. "It was the best weekend of my life. And not just the sex. It was never just the sex." You kissed him tentatively again, lips barely touching his before you started to pull away, but Jake chased you for another one. And another one. And then you were smiling against his lips as he said, "I'm really happy you called me, Darlin'."

"Me, too. I missed you."

When he finally broke the kiss, he asked, "You're sure you got Cooper out of your system?"

"I'm so sure," you said softly, never breaking eye contact.

"Then let's get out of here."

Jake ushered you to his truck with his arm around your waist. "Are you taking me back to my dorm?" you asked when he opened the door for you.

"Nah. You're spending the weekend with me. Where you belong."

-----------------------------

Walking back through Jake's front door felt like going home. He held your hand the whole ride over, and when you told him you might need some things from your dorm room, he promised to take you back there in the morning to get whatever you wanted. Then he smirked and added, "But you wore everything from my dresser and made yourself at home last time you were here. You can do that again while we make up for being apart last weekend."

Now that you were standing in his living room where everything looked and felt familiar, you closed your eyes and let him hold you. "I missed you so much," you whispered. "I thought about calling or texting you so many times, it's not even funny. Then I told myself there was no way you'd forgive me."

Jake sighed deeply. "I was terrified that I didn't save my number in your phone before the battery died. I thought I'd never hear from you again. I missed you so much, I even stopped by the Hard Deck last weekend to see if you went there by chance."

Your gaze settled on the pizza box on the coffee table, and when you tried to reach for it, Jake grabbed your hand. You looked up at him, and when you tried one more time to open the lid, he wrapped you in a tighter hug and tried to walk across the living room with you in his arms.

"What kind of pizza is that, Jake?" you asked, tone playfully accusatory.

This man literally picked you up from a bench on your school campus after you slept with a loser your own age, and he'd once again done nothing except show you respect and affection the whole evening. And now you could feel how easily you and he were falling back into the playful bubble you'd existed in two weeks ago. It was exquisite. This time you weren't going to burst it.

"Come on, Darlin'," he groaned, letting go of your hand so you could investigate the pizza box for yourself. "I couldn't help myself."

"Ha!" you said once you had it open. "My favorite kind!"

Jake's cheeks were pink as he nodded while you pointed at the half eaten pizza on the coffee table. "I told you I missed you," he whispered, and you stumbled back into his arms. "I've been sleeping with my window open so I could listen to the ocean, but it's better with you there. Everything is. The pizza was bad enough before, but it tasted like shit when I ate it alone. I didn't even want to stay in the tub until the water got cold the other day. I only lasted like five minutes"

Your eyes went wide. "You broke one of your own rules?" When he nodded, you kissed his cheek and asked, "Can we take a bath together now?"

His expression melted into a smile. "Go get it started while I get us some drinks."

Lighter than air, you practically floated down the hallway to his bedroom. Everything was tidy like you remembered it. He had some clean laundry folded on his dresser, and when you ran your hand along the soft cotton of his undershirts, you paused. Your black thong was sitting there as well. Excitement welled up inside you, because he never got rid of it. Your fingers wrapped around the lace and you carried it into the bathroom with you, excitement building further as soon as you saw the green toothbrush you used was still there, right next to Jake's. He held onto both of them since you were here last.

These were things a boyfriend would do. You were sure of it. When Jake strolled in with a Sam Adams in one hand and stemware filled with ice water in the other, you were holding your underwear and the toothbrush to your chest. He kissed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world before saying, "I thought you were going to fill the tub."

"I was," you replied, making no move to do anything as he set the drinks down on the sink vanity. He smiled when he saw what you were holding, and then he opened the cabinet to pull out two towels and some washcloths. There was no new box of condoms inside. None at all.

"You're really done with the tag chasers?" you blurted out, toothbrush digging into the palm of your hand.

Jake looked up at you and nodded as he turned the water on to fill the tub. "Yeah. To be honest, I think I was done with them as soon as I picked up your fake ID from the floor." His green eyes were earnest as he stood tall again and reached for you. "Now, can we make this water as hot as possible? So it'll take longer to cool down? Once we start snuggling, I'm not going to want to get out."

His fingers were teasing along the strap of your dress at your shoulder as you finally set down your thong and your toothbrush. Then you let Jake undress you as the bathroom started to get steamy. The part inside you that was still afraid he wouldn't want you now was soothed by his words and his big hands on your bare skin.

"Climb on in, Darlin'."

You watched him undress from the comfort of the bath, and he handed you both drinks before he turned off the brighter lights in favor of the softer ones. Then he climbed in with you, and his arm was around your body immediately, guiding you to settle between his legs.

You sipped your water while he sipped his Sam Adams, and the two of you smiled at each other before you asked, "Are you sure you want me to spend the night?"

He hummed into his beer bottle before taking another sip and setting it aside. "I'm going to want you here as much as possible." His words were so simple, but so full of possibility. He felt the same way you did. You were sure of it now. But you had to sip your water to take time to collect your thoughts.

"Well, I have work to do for my classes," you finally said, and he took the glass from your hand and discarded it.

"I can try to help you with it," he replied, both hands on your body once more. "Or maybe I can learn something new. You can be the teacher."

Your heart was beating a nervous rhythm even as you curled up against him with your head on his shoulder and your fingers in his chest hair. "Maybe we should buy more condoms tomorrow or Sunday?" you asked quietly. Nothing about the current state of things felt sexual, but you were still a tiny bit scared he would reject you in that way because of Cooper. But his lips found your forehead while he traced a little heart on your thigh.

"Sure. We can do that." He tipped your chin up so you were looking at him. His expression was serious as he softly said, "But the two of us don't need to have sex to be intimate and have a good time together. You have a lot more than that to offer, Darlin'. I do, too."

You thought back to all the little moments you and he shared in between hooking up. Making out on the couch and laughing together. Eating pizza and falling asleep in his arms. Those were the best parts. "I don't know what you did, but you made all of it so good. Every minute of the entire weekend."

He seemed to relax more as he accepted your words. "It was never just fucking to me. Not since the first night when you trusted me enough to sleep over. And certainly not since I asked you if you wanted it to be sex or something more. That was us making love."

You whimpered before his lips met yours, and you kissed him hard as you let your wet fingers drag through his soft hair. "It was perfect," you said against his mouth before you pulled away an inch.

His forehead was pressed to yours as he murmured, "You're perfect. You always were." His lips brushed yours as he added, "But yeah, after I take you out for lunch tomorrow and we stop by your dorm for whatever you need, we can get more condoms. I would enjoy that immensely."

"You better not get me pregnant before I graduate from college," you joked.

Jake snorted. "I better not get you pregnant anytime soon. I haven't even met your parents yet."

"You want to meet my parents?" you asked in surprise.

You were perched on his lap awaiting a response as Jake leaned back against the tub. His gaze lingered on every part of your face before he casually asked, "Which lesson were we on?"

He was being coy and sweet and sincere, and all of your feelings were right there at the surface now. "Are you serious right now?" you asked, poking him in the abs. When he nodded, you said, "We were on number thirteen."

"Right. Lucky number thirteen. My favorite one," he crooned, offering up nothing else.

After another beat, you poked him again and said, "Spit it out, Jake. What's the lesson?"

"Smartass," he muttered. The water was starting to cool down now, and when you shivered, he just held you a little closer. "Lesson thirteen is more for me than for you." He paused to kiss you before saying, "I'm feeling like I don't want to be with anyone else. Just you. Make this a permanent thing. Think you can humor me by labeling it?"

"Yes," you replied so quickly that he was laughing when your lips crashed against his.

--------------------------------

Jake wrapped you up in one of the towels, and the two of you brushed your teeth side by side. You already knew where everything was, and without prompting, you rooted around in his dresser drawers until you found something you wanted to wear. Then you climbed into his bed like you knew without a doubt you'd always be welcome there, and he turned off the lights.

"Jake," you whined softly, patting the empty spot next to you in the glow from the moonlight. When he didn't immediately move, you added, "Get in bed with me."

But he took the time to admire you as he slid the window open another few inches. The sound of the ocean had a calming effect on him again now that you were back, and he felt more peaceful. You belonged here with him. When you reached for his hand, he let you tug him toward the bed with a smile on his face. He belonged with you, too.

"That's better," you whispered, melting into him as soon as he had his arms around you under the blanket. "Good night, Jake."

"Night, Darlin'." He was ready to keep you warm all night and spend the weekend showing you that he made an excellent boyfriend. "I love you."

---------------------------------

Jake and Darlin' pulled it together in the end. Thank you for reading my fic about intimacy, consent, trust and knowing your worth. I loved every second of writing this. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 8 months ago

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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #dpxdc memes #dpxdc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #dead on main ship #alcohol

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kitorin · 9 months ago

Text

in which, itoshi rin expresses his love for you in, peculiar ways.

itoshi rin is wearily watching his opponent's highlights when you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.

he almost rips his earbud out by the wire, contrariwise to the soft gaze he gives you, the slight tilt of his head accompanied by a quiet hum asks you what's wrong.

"were you busy? i can ask later."

"'course not." without hesitation he turns his phone off and tosses it somewhere onto his bed. "something wrong?"

you lean against the coffee table, where the two of you were studying; match analysis for rin and unfortunately an infuriating research task for your upcoming exam. your chin rests on both your palms, fingers cupping your own cheek.

"what's your favourite thing about me?"

owlishly, he stares, then blinks. you mimic his actions, waiting for a response.

"i have to pick?"

you nod eagerly. "it feels like a while since i've properly spoken to you. we don't have any classes together and i've been studying during break times. and i keep falling asleep on the bus."

rin nods with understanding. "then my favourite thing about you is that."

"is what?"

"i love watching you sleep."

it takes a lot not to make a stupefied face.

of all answers you expected, it was clearly not that. rin's love languages centred around quality time and physical touch, but he's still fully capable of uttering sweet nothings. which was something you were desperately craving at the moment.

"rin that's so creepy—"

his typical stoicism melts away into bewilderment. "it is?"

oh my god, did your boyfriend have some sort of strange fetish?

"i don't get it." rin frowns. "it's been making me happy recently, why's it so bad?"

"but why's that?"

lithe fingers brush a few strands of hair behind your ears. "you're always so tired recently, it makes me feel at peace seeing you rest. i'm relieved knowing that you're getting a proper break." his aquamarine irises avoid eye contact, pink dusting his cheeks. "i like having you close to me, too."

guilt permeates your gut for having such assumptions. "sorry for assuming the worst, love." your hand cups his, bringing it to your lips for a kiss. "i'm just busy, with exams and stuff, y'know?"

"i know, and i get that. but i don't like the possibility of you collapsing from not sleeping enough, or burning out. and you deserve to sleep and eat properly, they're important for learning and improvement too."

and rin's right, it just feels as though there's not enough time, with so many exams being stuffed into such a little period. there's the fear of failing, falling behind peers and all the efforts you've put in amounting to nothing because of a mistake.

but as he said, rest is important, just as much as working hard. success cannot be attain with one without the other.

you settle yourself onto rin's lap, resting your head on his shoulder, and back against his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "thanks for reminding me, i'm done for today. let's make the most of tonight."

he responds with a small smile, and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"i must be really pretty then, if watching me sleep is that enjoyable." you throw out an attempt of teasing him, waiting for his reaction.

"nah. your face kinda squishes up on my shoulder."

"wow. okay. i see—"

"your neck also ends up in the weirdest positions so i usually have to move you around to make sure you don't have too much neck pain later."

"very sweet of you, that's enough though."

"did i mention you drool sometimes too?"

"rin—"

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

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charliemwrites · 11 months ago

Text

Still thinking about Nikto, and that anon ask I answered just a bit ago.

Content: Dissociation/Depersonalization, Unhealthy (not harmful) Coping Mechanisms, Codependence, Trauma/PTSD symptoms, Sexual Themes

After the hallway incident you’re a bit shaken. A life of a heavy burden, but your shoulders are used to the weight; you’re a medic. But what Nikto offered you in the hallway — no, not offered, but gave, devoted. It makes it hard to breathe.

You’re not sure if what he’s seeking (or perhaps found?) is solace or penance. You don’t think you have much say in the matter really. If God asked His disciples to stop worshipping, would they?

The comparison feels too bold, even in the privacy of your own mind. Smacks of narcissism and ego. You don’t feel powerful. You feel scared. Of what it means to hold this broken, burdened man in the palm of your hand, trying to keep all the pieces together without cutting yourself on them.

Don’t be so careless with your life, you told him.

He’s taken those words as religious creed. He doesn’t storm around corners, guns blazing anymore. Doesn’t drop from heart-stopping heights to stamp-sized targets. Hes not the first one out nor the last one in anymore — though he never lets you get out first or hop in transport last either.

Suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise.

He cares for his wounds now, too. Cleans and changes them regularly, doesn’t over exert them before they’ve healed. You’re so dizzy on pride in him that you kiss the front of his mask one day, telling him “thank you”.

He grunts in something that sounds almost like shock and shakes his head at you. You figure he doesn’t feel he deserves praise for doing as you’ve told him. You do it anyway.

Things start to settle into this new normal.

Until you can’t find him anywhere. He’s become your new shadow, another limb, and suddenly he’s gone like so much smoke. You’re both fresh off a rough, but successful mission. You’ve just finished a stint in the infirmary and your debrief. Usually hed take that time to clean off and change in privacy, back before you could miss him.

Where is he?

You find him bleeding in his room, trying to care for his own wounds. Mask off, shirt gone, a new knife wound added to his macabre collection. You scramble to his side and collapse at his feet, snatching the needle from his shaky, slippery hand.

“Don’t you ever—” you choke on the words, unusual tears welling. You’re a medic; you’re not allowed to cry during treatment. But all you see if Nikto and blood and—

“I am okay,” he says in that low, crackly voice. Gravel in a blender. “It is not bad.”

You swallow and don’t answer, can’t because you’ll start weeping into his wound. Just stitch him up, hands steady even as you sniffle and the rest of you trembles.

When it’s done, you start wiping away the excess, prepping a bandage. He’s so silent you can even hear him breathing, but you feel his eyes like a physical touch. Finally make yourself look up at him meet his piercing eyes.

“You come back to me from now on,” you say. Quiet, firm, fervent. “I don’t care what it is, you return to my side always.”

The silence stretches and stretches, and he just stares with that unfathomable gaze.

“Understand?” you insist.

“Yes.”

Those two commandments become that basis of his new existence. Nikto once thought he survived it all because he still had work to do. He was wrong; it was because he still hadn’t found his purpose at all.

He’s found you now though, and you are a demanding god. But not a cruel one

Your first commandment is atonement. This vessel requires so much work. Food and water and rest. Maintenance for every abrasion, upkeep to stay strong enough to stand at your side, to protect you. It is endless, bitter work. He doesn’t care for the labor itself, but it must be done.

It is made bearable with you.

Your second commandment is salvation. Your quiet chatter during meals, the lingering taste of your mouth on his water canteen. Your kind hands mending tears and holes, keeping whatever he is now whole and hale. Your company in the gym, on sparring mats, at his side at the gun range. The smell of your sweat past the mask, your laughter goading him into another round.

You let him sleep in your bed. Let him wake you with nightmares or memories. Keep him warm because this thing he inhabits doesn’t always remember it’s not dying anymore. You are so very alive, the realest thing in any room. Your touch is the only thing he can feel sometimes.

It takes him a long time to realize that his body (because it is a body you tell him, a living one that needs care) reacts to you.

That some mornings the press of you against him is especially sweet. That there’s more than relief and pride when you pin him down. That, at most points of the day, his body wants your touch for more than just grounding.

He’s hard most times that he’s with you, simply for the fact that you are there. And he is with you almost always.

(That it is not actually always grinds at him, niggles in the back of his mind. A sticking point. He wants it to be always, you with him at all times. Like when he used to wear a cross pendant.)

You notice, of course you do, sensitive to your most loyal devotee. He can’t tell if you’re offended, but you haven’t sent him away. Sometimes you flush and he thinks he’s certainly upset you, but for all he’s survived it would kill him to break your second commandment. And so he stays, even if he waits to be told to leave.

“Nikto?”

You never need to call his name, he is always listening. He likes the sound of it anyway. These syllables and sounds that have a meaning, that you use for him.

“Do you… want to do something about that?” you nod to his crotch. There’s a blatant bulge pressing at his tac pants. At some other time, he would probably would have found it uncomfortable.

“Do what?” he asks.

You shrug. “Get off? I could leave—“

“No.”

You blink but don’t seem surprised. “Do you want to just ignore it then?”

He shrugs a bit. There’s a flicker of amusement in your eyes. You like when he makes gestures. He tries to remember common ones, and when to do them, and tries them out for you. Though you never seem to mind his stillness either.

“It does not bother me.”

You hum, look like you’re going to go back to your tv show.

“Does it bother you?”

Your eyes dart up, mouth parting in surprise. You didn’t expect him to continue the topic. Neither did he.

“It doesn’t bother me,” you reply, tilting your head. “But if you want to do something about it, we can.”

We.

“We?”

“If… if you want me to do something… I would.”

He couldn’t ask that of you. Not ever. He’s not allowed to want anything of you when you’ve given him everything.

“No,” he says quietly finally. “Just ignore it.”

“Okay.” You smile at him, touch his hand. It is bare, mangled tattoos on display. He wishes he could feel it more. “Come snuggle in?”

Snuggle in.

Such a quaint turn of a phrase for a creature in your room, wearing a man’s face. He climbs in, shoes gone, mask gone. You wedge yourself against his side and he stares absently at the screen as you continue your show.

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Masterlist

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #nikto x reader #cod nikto

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klausysworld · 4 months ago

Note

Very closed off reader who kinda clings to Klaus because they relate to him in the fact that he has family troubles :( she sees that he clearley does the things he does because of trauma or whatever and so does everything in her power to show him that he's got someone to fall back on.

Every time he shouts at her or retaleates because he's upset and dosent understand how soemone could be so nice to him she simply gives him a hug or a gift or just sits some distance away to show he isn't alone.

She deals with all his meanness quite well because she's used to it from her family and has learned to block it out :( one day he really has enough of her and after something goes wrong with Elena or Salvatore he really doesn't want reader around him. She tells him quite confidently that he needs soemone to help him and she would never leave him alone at which point he smirks and says something snarky before proving that he doesn't need her. He reaches into her chest and grips her heart and kinda realises he is in the wrong when she looks kinda shocked and sad so he gently takes his hand out and feeds her his blood to help with the damage he left behind. Afterwards reader is less affectionate with him and only sits with him when he is in a state, now afraid to touch him incase he lashes out but still wanting to support him cuz she cares about him :(

Thanks for reading, love your stories!

The Betrayed Becomes The Betrayer.

Growing up on an aggressive household desensitised me to a lot of things; yelling and smashing objects especially. My parents were a mess, I'm not sure if they didn't know how to love or just didn't want to.

Eventually I realised that they were the same thing and that I wasn't wanted at home, so I left and found Hayley.

Which was how I wound up finding Klaus.

He was a broken man, I could tell. Elijah confirmed that their parents had been cruel and abusive almost as soon as we met him which I assumed they also must've become desensitised over it after a thousand years.

However when I actually met Klaus, it was obvious that he was still deeply affected by it. I could understand him, his feelings and his thoughts. I got why he wanted to be so strategic, to have the control that was taken form him. I knew why he wanted to make people hurt the way he hurt and why he was as aggressive as the the people that raised him.

I wasn't violent, or an angry person. I had learnt to be quiet and keep things to myself so that I didn't get in the way but I would think about it. How it would feel to hurt someone, to make them feel worthless and then leave them. Could it really feel good enough to do over and over?

In my head I assumed it must do but I could never bring myself to actually torment someone the way I had been.

But I could tell that Klaus was still haunted by the past and it affected his every move. I couldn't blame him, or fault him for acting upon the images that swirled in my own mind.

Often he got frustrated, angry and inevitably lash out against someone. Something would be thrown, smashed. Someone would be yelling, screaming.

But I never wanted to be mad at him, to me he didn't deserve to be ranted at for what he'd done. They were riling him up further and it was obvious, it was like they wanted him to explode and hurt someone.

So instead of pushing him off that edge, I tried to help him back up.

To begin with I would just be the only one in the room not glaring at him with hatred. I just wanted him to know that there was someone on his side. He didn't notice for a little while but after a couple arguments I think he started to feel my presence. Sometimes he would get snappy, ask what I was looking at but when I'd just tell him that I understood why he did what he did, Klaus would get less defensive.

I wasn't a touchy person, ever, but the time his mother had been back and she hurt him so bad that he cried in his room, I didn't know what else to do but hug him.

After that it seemed like I was hugging him all the time. He calmed so much easier with some touch.

Sometimes he accepted it without complaint but sometimes he didn't want anyone near him so I would go away and come back later. He knew I was there when he needed me and I learnt to be a patient person.

I also learnt not to react so when he screamed in my face I didn't yell back. He had been so stressed lately and a lot of people had died yesterday the day before. I left him alone for the night before coming back in the morning to try and be there, he didn't want to talk so I went away and came back in the afternoon. To begin with he was fine but he got angry so fast, I barely said anything before he was yelling.

I tried not to react, not to talk back or get defensive but then he pushed me. Both hands on my shoulders, shoving me backward toward the wall and I tensed and something stirred in me.

I told him he was being ridiculous, pathetic and he didn't know what he needed.

"What? You think I need you? You think I like your desperate little cuddles. I'm not the one craving touch and love. I've been fine for centuries and I don't need a clingy little thing following me around." He snapped at me and I felt my frown deepen and the hurt biting at me.

"I'm not being clingy...I'm just trying to be helpful." I whispered and he scoffed.

Klaus got close, too close and it frightened me a little. I took a few steps back and he chuckled, trapping me to the wall.

"What is it, love? No more snuggles? You don't want to tell me it's okay? You gonna tell me I should paint a picture?" He mocked, his breath hot on my face. "You think I'm pathetic sweetheart? Think I need you? All I need is for you to disappear." His voice was low but clear, eyes cold and I felt the adrenaline hit and screaming for me to run but I froze just like I used to when I was little.

The smallest sound left me when I felt something agonising within my chest. My mouth opened but no noise would come out and I struggled to breath at all. I looked down, watching my own blood seep through my clothes and drip down his wrist. My eyes were stinging and I could feel my heart close to exploding as his grip tightened. I wasn't sure if I was stood there for hours or seconds before my body reacted and my arms shot up, both my hands latching onto his wrist so he couldn't pull the organ out.

My eyes shot up to look into his, seeing them soften after a second before his hand let go around my heart. A loud cry left me when he tore his fist out of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. I panted and a strong metallic taste filled my mouth as blood dripped past my lips.

His voice sounded blurry when he tried to tell me something, nothing felt real as my legs went weak and his hands touched my sides. The touch made me cry again and I felt him hesitate before something gross was pressed to my mouth and I couldn't tell if I was choking on my blood or his.

After a moment I could feel my body healing from the inside out, physically I felt better but now my mind was spinning. I looked up at him again, I could feel the fear pulsing through my veins when he reached his hand toward me.

This time I didn't freeze.

I was up and out of the room as fast as my legs could move.

I avoided him for a few days, part of me knew he wasn't going to do anything again and that he felt bad about it but the other part of me couldn't help but worry.

It was only when he was attacked again that I willingly sat in the same room as him.

"You okay?" I asked and he looked over to me, he was splattered with blood but at least it wasn’t mine.

"Yeah...I'm okay." He whispered, nodding.

I shifted in my place and he shuffled over on the couch so I could sit on the other end to him. The silence was awkward for a while, actually the entire time.

It was for quite a lot of the times I was near him. I wanted to be there for him, show him I understood but I was still scared and I didn't want to be close enough that he could kill me or hurt me just incase he did.

It was when he was carried in my Elijah, Papa Tunde’s blade in his chest causing him to be immobile and in agonising pain, when I got close again.

Elijah dropped him to the bed with a soft thud and was moving fast. He turned, looking right at me before talking.

“I need you to feed him your blood. It’s laced with vervain, he’ll heal slow. You need to keep him here or he is going to kill Rebekah. I don’t want to burden you, Y/N, but I’m afraid you’re the only who’s even a possibility.” He directed quickly, whilst dragging the blade from his brother’s chest.

“A possibility for what?” I asked, confused and afraid. I didn’t want to give him my blood. It was like asking him to kill me.

“You’re the only person he might listen to.” He explained as he headed for the door. “He won’t hurt you.” He told me and it sounded like a promise before he left.

Klaus let out a groan and I turned, hesitantly walking over to the edge of his bed. I silently dammed myself for being concerned enough to follow Elijah when he carried him in here.

I looked down at him, wincing at the cut that hadn’t healed down the length of his bare chest.

“What…what happened?” I whispered, wanting to reach out to touch but willing myself not to.

“Elijah-“ Klaus grunted, his teeth grinding as he forced words out. “He stabbed me for her.” It was clear that rage was all he felt in that moment as he tried to push himself up, only to let out a cry of pain.

“Rebekah?” I wondered and he seethed.

“She betrayed me. Called Mikael. She wanted me dead!” He yelled, his aggression growing as I felt my hairs stand on edge.

I was quiet, watching him struggle desperately.

I understand why he was so mad, betrayal was a huge thing for him. Abandonment, paranoia. It made him this way and Rebekah used it and ruined all of their lives but I had no doubt she had her reasons…not that I’d tell him that.

“She doesn’t now” I whispered and his had snapped to me. “She loved you now, she’s here now-“

“Only months ago did she stand beside Marcellus and watch as his vampires tried to kill me. She has always wanted me gone. She’s so desperate for Marcel that she’d kill her own brother-“ he snapped and I flinched.

His voice died off when I stepped back and he grunted softly. He was taking fast but deep breaths, trying to gather some stability and I could feel Elijah’s words echoing through me. That I had to let Klaus feed from me.

Reluctantly I shifted closer again, he was quiet as I sat down on the edge of his bed. His body was laid so close to me and his chest moved with each pain-filled breath.

My entire arm shook as I held it out, right infront of his face and it made his skin dance with veins. “Love…” he muttered, his jaw clenching as he inhaled through his nose. “I’m not going to hurt you” he uttered, I could feel his eyes on my but I couldn’t look back at his. “Not again. Just…there’s blood bags downstairs”

“Elijah said I have to use mine, the vervain makes it slower or something? I don’t know…I can’t do it wrong” I pushed my wrist closer, glancing at the fangs that were pushing past his gums.

“He won’t be mad.”

“He’s trusting me.” I whispered, finally looking up to klaus’s eyes and he sighed before slowly nodding.

I almost tugged my arm back when I felt his teeth pierce the skin, the sting making me move but his hand lifted to keep me in place. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he fed, it was such a strange sensation; much less painful than a needle.

As I felt myself weaken, I noticed the wound across his body fixing itself. My eyes started to go and for a second I faltered, my head beginning to drop but his other hand caught my chin and held me up. His fangs retreated back up and something warm and wet slid across my wrist before I was leaned up against him.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He whispered into my ear. “I have to finish what they’ve started.” He told me and I knew he wanted to murder Rebekah and I wanted to talk to him but he’d taken so much blood. His eyes stared straight into mine, reaching into my mind. “You’re going to fall asleep, you’ll wake tomorrow morning and you will feel no pain from this bite. I will heal you when I return. I promise I didn’t take enough to kill you, just to empty you of vervain.”

I wanted to argue, yell or anything but my mind shut down and my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I sunk into myself completely and lay, somehow conscious and unconscious as I tried to wake myself up.

I woke the next morning like he instructed my body to do, I glanced at my wrist to find it wrapped in bandages. My head lifted to see a glass of water, tinted pink by what I assumed was blood beside a small teddybear.

Hesitantly I sipped the drink, feeling instantly better before picking up the toy.

“I thought you’d like it” a voice sounded from the doorway, I glanced to see Klaus. Both his hands were behind his back and a guilty look painted his face.

I pushed myself up, it felt strange being in someone else’s bed; especially Klaus’s.

I didn’t answer him as I got up and pushed past him, shoving the teddy into his chest and going straight to my own room.

For a man who hated betrayal, he sure knew how to commit it.

He knew I was already afraid of him, that I didn’t want to be that close again and he took advantage of the ounce of trust I still had.

I understood him, but I couldn’t do this again. I’d been in this situation too many times.

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skipper1331 · 8 months ago

Text

Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas

She didn‘t try to follow you.

She didn‘t try to text or call you.

She didn‘t try to fight for you.

She let you.

She let you walk through that door.

She let you go.

They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.

Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.

You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.

She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.

In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.

And you were no longer hers.

After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.

In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.

You were glowing - the new look suited you.

But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.

You cried.

You screamed into your pillow.

You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.

Watched sad shows and movies.

And cried more.

Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?

No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..

No one knew that your heart was broken..

I‘m capable of handling that on my own.

I‘m an independent woman.

..except one person: Alba.

unknown

hey, it‘s Alba.

Ale told me what happened.

If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)

You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.

You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.

Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.

In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.

You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.

But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.

Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?

Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.

Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.

She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.

"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.

She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.

"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.

The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.

You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.

"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.

"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.

It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.

"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.

Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.

Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.

"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.

"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.

"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.

Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.

No one knew that you were more than just teammates.

They were clueless.

You were amazing.

And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.

The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.

You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.

On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.

"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.

"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.

Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.

If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.

She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.

You deserved better than that, way better.

Winning the champions league felt euphoric.

The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.

But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.

It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.

You wanted to cherish this moment forever.

"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.

"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.

She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

You let her.

Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.

Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.

Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.

You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.

Nobody was, or cared.

You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.

While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"

you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.

"hi" you replied.

"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."

You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.

"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"

You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"

The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.

"You should make her jealous"

"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"

"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.

"How should I make her jealous then?"

"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.

She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.

She was not enjoying the show.

"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"

Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.

"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.

"What was that?!"

"I said you looked-"

"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.

"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.

She loved you.

"Do you understand me?"

The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.

You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.

"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.

"Good girl"

You died on the spot.

Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?

It was just Alexia.

Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.

In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.

This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.

"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.

With you.

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fantasylandloser · 11 months ago

Text

Attention pt.2

Warnings: 18+, dry humping, kissing, premature ejaculation (hot, right?), uh sorry?

pt. 1

*******

When Daryl’s patrolling shift is over he’s too tired to go to the bonfire, instead he opts for his cell, knowing that you'd come and find him when you’re done. He falls asleep before you get there, waking up to the sound of you shuffling around.

You’re obviously trying your best not to wake him, but he’s a light sleeper nowadays. Your movements are also clumsy, probably due to the alcohol that was passed around and even though you only drank a little, he knows you’re a lightweight and you’re no longer used to the feeling.

“Daryl.” You whisper, into the dark. Something you did to avoid startling him when moving around in his space. He grunts, still hazy from drowsiness, but slightly alert in the way you have to be at the end of the world.

You say nothing else after his acknowledgment, climbing onto the cot with him. You only slept on the same bunk with him the week all the others came to the prison from woodbury. You were not good with strangers and part of you wanted to cling to Daryl for some sort of comfort. You in your drunken state must have been looking for the same thing.

Daryl allows you to climb over him. He can tell there was an attempt to be more on his side but the prison mattress only allowed for so much space because of that you’re directly on top of him. Not that either of you mind. He places an arm over your back trying to get you to stop moving once you finally get comfortable, lets you place a soft kiss over his stubbled jaw before the two of you finally let the exhaustion claim your bodies.

You wake up before Daryl, but you don’t move in hopes of him getting well deserved rest. He only sleeps twenty minutes longer and it takes you both a while to acknowledge the other out loud, but you enjoy the peaceful moments of breathing in sync and legs intertwined.

“Last night any fun?” He asks, voice still thick from sleep. You hum out a yes, your thumb brushing over his bicep as you try to think of any reason to keep him there. You settle for just asking when you don’t find one, knowing how quick he usually is to get up and find something to do.

“Can we just lay here a little longer?” His hands run up your sides as he sighs a little.

“Someones gonna come lookin’ for us in a bit.” He doesn’t make any moves to leave though. Enjoying your softness against him, compared to the usual harsh realities of the world.

“Did you talk to Mark?” He can’t help the resentment in his voice.

You groan at the memory of the conversation. “He saw us kiss.” And even though you’re not looking at his face you can feel that he’s smiling.

“S’not funny. He was upset. I feel bad.” Daryl rubs his hand over your back to comfort you but he’s still smiling.

“Thought you said you weren’t with em’” You can practically hear the smugness.

“I wasn’t, I think he just got the wrong idea.” You defend. He hums, knowing you probably gave him the wrong idea..

“What’d you tell him, heartbreaker?” You flush in embarrassment before mumbling your answer that's barely coherent.

“That m’yours.” He feels your cheek warm against his chest.

“Damn right.” His confirmation only makes you flush deeper. You try not to smile too much. You fail. He feels it against his chest, before he sees it when you turn your head to look in his direction.

“Can I kiss you?” The angle of your lips places you so close to his and you can practically already feel it. You ask so softly, like you think he’ll tell you no.

“You better.” You’re both smiling when you press your lips to his, so softly at first that he barely feels it. Until you do it again, harder. You’re damn near devouring him after about two seconds and he lets you. When you go to release him he pulls you back into him, switching the two of you around on the cot so that he can be on top of you.So that you can’t leave him.

He’s slotted himself in between your legs in the midst of it all, making you stretch them wide. Kissing you once again on your lips before he lets them go long enough for you to breathe air that isn’t his. Kisses you twice more along your neck and you’re so soft. Daryl tries to think of the last time he’d been touched like this, and even before the infection it had been a long time.

He loses himself to touching you, so quickly he doesn’t even realize it's happening. That is until he feels the almost foreign feeling of pleasure in the pit of his abdomen and he finds himself bucking against you. And it drives him crazy because you’re just in your underwear, those girly panties that pretended not to like. And you’re so soft. Much softer than his fist and he knows you’re strong but you’re so small in his arms, pliant under his lips.

You hear someone moving in the cell next to you and you remember that you need to be quiet, but as you work to silence your moans Daryl’s pants get louder. He’s worked himself to the point that his thrust against you gets sloppy. You try to kiss him to silence him, but he is so damn loud that you blush thinking of who might be hearing him.

“Shh.” You murmur, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him because he needs this. You need this. You need him close. You need his warmth, You need him.

“Baby,” You start and he groans at the name, his hips stuttering, he swears, pressing more kisses into your mouth. He feels immediate shame at him cumming in his damn pants like a teenager, but he takes one look at you and he knows you couldn't care less. He plans to make it up to you regardless, already kissing down your stomach.

Rick interrupts that plan with clearing of his throat and his head peaked into Daryl’s curtain, obviously more than pleased with himself. “Daryl, whenever you get done with this, we’ve got that run we’re supposed to go on.” His southern drawl did absolutely nothing to hide the amusement he was feeling.

“Alright, get out.” Daryl tells Rick grumpily, after the swift reminder of his responsibilities. Rick nods the smile on his face, unmoving. He leaves after telling you good morning, just to fuck with Daryl. Your flustered face gives him even more of a kick and the both of you hear him chuckling outside the curtain as he walks away.

“I’m sorry. I gotta-” He’s cut off with a kiss.

“Don’t be sorry.” You smile and you look so sweet that he has to kiss you again and he feels like he’ll never get enough.

“I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” Another kiss, on his cheek this time.

“You better.” You say, even though you don’t think there’s a thing to make up for.

#twd daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #smut #fantasylandloserfic

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year ago

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Maid outfit. Scummy Scaramouche. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scara receiving. Degradation. Dom!Scara.

I am typing this in the dark on a Greyhound bus.

Scaramouche's breath hitched in his throat when he saw you. He licked his lips as you bowed. "Welcome home, Master. How can I serve you?" You said, blushing shyly.

He could already feel his cock hardening to strain in his shorts. He had taken great care in picking out the maid uniform. It clung to you in all the right places, your breasts practically spilling out of it. His fingers itched to get his hands on you, and shred the uniform off of you.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Master," You said, keeping your eyes directed away from him, fidgeting your fingers like you had done something wrong and was afraid to tell him.

"Oh?" Scaramouche purred, curling a finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him. You nodded, turning your cheek into his hand.

"I hope you can forgive me, but while I was cleaning earlier, I knocked something over and broke it," You explained, wrapping your arms around him. You nuzzled your cheek against his neck.

The way you always showed such submissive affection to Scaramouche sent him reeling. And it was twice as a good that you wearing a maid uniform. "I see," He smirked down at you. "You must be severely punished for this."

You nodded. He groaned when you licked at his mouth submissively, his cock throbbing in his shorts. "Please use me as you like, Master. I'll do anything to make up for it," Oh, it was definitely fun to talk to him like this.

Scaramouche put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down onto your knees. "Down on your knees where you belong, slut. Beg for forgiveness while you suck your Master's cock."

"As you wish, Master," You said, smiling up softly up at him. You nuzzled your cheek against his hip, feeling his cock against your cheek.

He let out a soft sigh of relief when you unbuttoned his shorts and took out his cock. You kitten licked your tongue over the head of his cock, wrapping one of your hands around it.

Scaramouche let out a hiss of pleasure when you gently squeezed, precum leaking onto your tongue. His indigo eyes were hazy with lust, filled with a domineering stare that made your panties dampen.

"I deserve to be punished, Master," You said, sucking on the head of his cock, playing your tongue in his precum. "Forgive me, please. I don't even deserve to have you cum down my throat," Your eyes were filled with such desperation. He thought it was an intoxicating look for you.

Scaramouche groaned feeling your tongue flatten on his cock, making it throb on your tongue as you licked up his entire length. His hand found the back of your head, his fingers combing appreciatively though your soft hair before grabbing a handful of it.

"No, you don't, but I'll be kind enough to ruin your throat," He pushed your mouth closer to his cock, poking the head against your lips.

"How fortunate I am to have such a kind, and generous Master," You opened your mouth for his cock, moaning as he pushed it passed your lips and into your mouth.

Scaramouche enjoyed watching you drool while he made you choke on his cock. Tears stung in your eyes, moaning as you gurgled while you adjusted to breathe through your nose. "Start sucking, slut," He hissed, moaning when you immediately obeyed.

You are always such a good girl for him.

You looked up at him with such adoration in your eyes. He almost came right then, the look was so deep and endearing, like there wasn't anything else in the world that you would rather be doing than sucking him off.

Scaramouche held your head in place, using your mouth and throat like you had so sweetly asked him to. You were sucking him off so well that he couldn't help but praise you. "What a good whore, serving her Master so well," He pushed his cock into your throat again, "How about a reward, yes?"

Your expression turned eager, moaning happily from hearing Scaramouche's praise. You flattened and lapped your tongue over the vein that bulged to the surface. Every moan you vibrated on his cock made it throb with the promise of cum spilling into your mouth any moment.

His thrusts into your mouth turned sloppy, moaning as his eyes rolled closed in bliss. He couldn't wait to see cum spill from the corners of your mouth. He'd been nothing but hard the entire time he thought of your wearing the maid uniform.

"Fucking swallow it all, slut," Scaramouche groaned, his hand tightening on your hair. His cock throbbed needily on your tongue, his knees nearly buckling when you rested his cock into your throat and coughed. The feeling of your throat spasming on his cock made cum gob in ribbons into your mouth.

You swallowed obediently, sighing happily around his cock as his hand stroked through your hair. Once he pulled his cock out of your mouth to drink in the sight of your lips shiny with his cum, he swore he felt himself falling deeper in love with you when you looked up at him and said, "Will you please cum inside of me next, Master?"

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scummy scara #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche imagines #modern au

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goingmerryfics · 7 months ago

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Previously Betrayed/Cheated on w/ Killer, Zoro, & Mihawk

Content: Gender neutral reader, SFW, mentions of past cheating/betrayal in another relationship

Notes* Added a few more characters here! Thanks for the great prompt @juinewasbonker !

Killer

Killer is very calm as you explain your past to him, even while you’re a mess as you do it.

Offers physical comfort; he’ll hug you or hold your hands while you talk, never interrupting you even for a second

His patience also knows no bounds- he will wait there while you half to calm yourself in-between sentences as the painful memories and feelings begin to surface. He helps you by guiding your breathing by example

The great thing about Killer is how stoic he is here. You know he would never turn it around and make you feel as if it were your fault like your narcissistic ex did- in fact, he’s the opposite, and when he does speak to you, it’s so validating.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. You deserve so much better than someone who would betray your trust."

He pushes your hair out of your face and wipes your tears away so gently while going on and on about how it wasn’t your fault, and praising you for coming to him and letting him know so the two of you could become closer in your own relationship. He tells you that it's normal to feel hurt or distrustful after such an experience, and that he doesn’t take it seriously when you’re apprehensive about certain things with him.

Being who he is, he does get a little protective and asks if there is anything you need him to do. You know what he means by that, and it makes you laugh a little at the notion of him beating down your ex for something that had happened ages ago. He’s already a criminal, but you still shake your head at his offer and let him know you’ll keep it in mind, though.

"I promise to always be honest with you and to never do anything to hurt you. You mean everything to me, and I'll always be here to support you."

Zoro

Zoro is very direct, even to the point of that being a bad thing sometimes. So as you explain your past to him, you search his face constantly for any hint of a reaction, as if you’re trying to prepare yourself for him to tell you that you must have done something to cause the betrayal- that you were too much of a prude, or maybe it’s the way you speak

But he doesn’t say anything like that at all. This isn’t the time for his problem solving, and he knows that. He hasn’t experienced a betrayal like you have, and that’s all the more reason why he knows that this is an active listening situation

When it is his turn to talk, he knows exactly what to say and doesn’t hesitate for a moment

“You're better off without someone who can't stay loyal. You deserve someone who respects you."

In this situation he would be talking about himself, but it comes out so fast that he forgets he’s your current boyfriend for a moment

The both of you share a bit of a laugh at that, and you let him know that you hope he can be patient with you while you learn how to trust your romantic partner again. He understands that you need some time for that, and he’s not worried about having to wait.

"You're not alone in this. I've got your back, always. If you need anything, just say the word."

He’s not big on initiating physical contact, but he gladly returns it when you pull him in for a hug and a kiss.

You let him know that you appreciate him, and the two of you go off for a nap to regain the energy from the exhausting reveal

Mihawk

His strong suit does not lie in handling big emotions, so this conversation takes a while.

He keeps asking you what’s wrong, knowing from your actions that there’s something you want to tell him, but you keep mentioning that you don’t want to talk about it yet- and he doesn’t want to push you, but he’s getting worried

Finally, you two sit down to have this talk over a glass of wine. You keep yourself calm while you explain, and you talk about how the situation had destroyed your self confidence in the past and your ability to trust. He listens to every word, and even sets his glass down so you have his full attention.

"I admire your resilience in the face of adversity. Remember, you are not defined by the actions of others."

The way he leans forward to take your hands in his and kiss your palms is so romantic that you can’t help but to swoon and break into a smile. He can be so sweet very suddenly, and you were glad that this wasn’t something he would find as a waste of time, or a nuisance

He shares that he has gone through this before, too. He understands your feelings of hurt, and he understands the malice towards the person that destroyed you just as he felt to the person who destroyed him, too

He urges you that dwelling on that hurt will only keep you stuck in that time of pain, and even offers to guide you back into self-love in many ways. He asks if you’d like more insight into his life, like coming with him to warlord meetings, or if you simply would like more compliments, which he is always happy to do

Whatever it is, if anything, he commits to doing it for you if you say it will help you to feel better in your relationship with him

"Should you ever require guidance or assistance, know that I am here to offer what counsel I can.”

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endereies · 2 months ago

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JUST A SHOULDER TO LEAN ON - PART 2

Pairing: Matt x Reader

Contains: You always go to Matt whenever things get hard, but little do you know he wants you to be there by his side permanently.

Requested?: yes by several people - thanks for the love ♡

Author's notes: Sorry that this took almost 2 weeks to write, I have mock exams this week and barely any time to write this but I hope it was worth the wait. This is also my longest piece to date so that's insane. Love you angels !!

Word Count: 5783

Part 1

It had been several months since you last went to Matt’s house to cry about your boyfriend. That’s because you two broke up. Whenever Cam stepped out of line again, all you could do was think back to that night.

"M'sorry, you don't deserve any of this, never...Please don't believe anything he says. He has no idea what he is talking about."

And he was right. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve being treated like shit all because he wanted the luxury of alcohol. You thought it would pass, people often do things they aren’t aware of when they are drunk. You believed that lie for almost two years. Two wasted years. You hated every moment of the break-up, you both were drunk this time.

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy here, I let you move into my apartment, I let you have whatever you wanted, I let you into a high-end life. You aren’t actually throwing all that shit away because you’re a little upset.”

You were practically seething at the point, your chest heavy with anger. Clenched fists lay by your side that held back harsh words. You weren’t crying this time. You got that out your system before your first drop of alcohol that now lingered as a lump in your throat. Small twitches of your eyelids and lips became more common with each idiotic word he spat out.

“No. Cameron, you forced me to move in, you gave me what I wanted to shut me up and I couldn’t give a shit about that ‘high-end’ life. You walk all over me! You don’t like me, you only like the idea of me”

“Oh? Really y/n. I made you into someone people actually respect. Before me did you ever actually get anywhere. Now you’re out all the time going to the opportunities I gave you. ”

“As if you actually notice that I leave the house. I leave here a lot because even subconsciously I knew I didn’t want to be around you.”

“Exactly, you are always away y/n. When was the last time we even had sex.”

Sex? Sex. That was his concern? After the time we have barely even spent as a couple, barely acting like we could be friends. Yet, his main concern is fucking me.

“You’re such a slut you must be getting it someone else.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that? We are done Cam. Fucking done.”

“What the fuck are you on about. Don’t say shit that you don’t mean.” He spoke sharply while clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Go on and fuck the barmaid if you’re so desperate to get laid, Cameron.”

You were lucky enough to have your parents live close to you, ones that were willing to take you in while you sought out an apartment. You hated to admit it, but you still loved Cameron, even if you didn’t want to. You despised him and yet at the same time all you did was miss him. Feeling like a walking contradiction was hard, to yourself and everyone around you. Everyone knew how you were feeling. That doesn’t mean they had to like it.

Matt especially hated it. Hated the way you talked about cam like you did something wrong. He knew how selfish he was being, but he couldn’t help it. Not when the girl he loved kept speaking about someone that wasn’t him. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be in that position. When he heard news of your break up with Cam. He sighed in reluctant relief. He relished in the knowledge that you were single so much he almost forgot your hurt. You didn’t feel the same as Matt, you weren’t as happy for it all to be over.

Parties were the worst for both of you. The alcohol placed around the rooms just reminded you of Cameron, for all the wrong reasons. His words when he was drunk were so cruel. They ridiculed you. Even so, the way the liquid burned as it poured down your throat distracted you from the negativity. Until you threw it all up of course. That ended up being most nights no matter how much you regretted it in the morning.

“Matttt!!” Your voice yelled his name once you saw him walk through the main doors, already slurred from the shots you’d taken.

“Hey, nice to see you.” Matt shoved any hesitancy to the side and focused on your smile. It was due to the alcohol, he knew that. Doesn’t mean he couldn’t pretend it was due to his arrival. It was your smile and that’s all he cared about.

“Did Nick and uh- Chris show...?” He nodded and hinted to the pair already at the bar.

“You must have missed them, I was just parking the van. Why?” Nick smiled at you and waved once he figured out that you were looking at them. A slight nudge from him caused Chris to do the same, his hand partially covered by his jacket.

“Wait what.?” You dragged your attention back to Matt with an embarrassed smile.

“Why? Were you looking for them or..” The blare of the music along with the drink in hand made it harder to understand him. You looked up at him with curious eyes, but he shrugged it off.

“Doesn’t matter… How many drinks have you had?” You held up your cocktail to your lips, taking a sip from the straw before shrugging. “I think this is my third.”

“Just take it easy alright, don’t want you getting shit-faced again” Matt sighed heavily as he took in your tipsy state.

“I’m not Cam, okay? I can handle my alcohol.” With another sip of your drink, you stormed off. Not before guilt could fill your mind. You hated only thinking about Cam, but you couldn’t help it.

You had left Matt standing by the main entrance of the venue, looking off to the direction you walked off in. He saw your sweet smile return to your face once you met back up with Tara. Relief filled him momentarily that someone else was at least looking after you. The way your mood switched suddenly left him slightly shocked. He knew you were taking the breakup hard, but he also knew alcohol was not going to help you in any way long term. Eventually he breathed heavily and moved along with his night.

Matt sat next to his brothers at the bar and leant against his palm while his other hand reached for his wallet. It wasn’t long before Nick slid a drink to him. “I figured you’d be here soon, so I got you a drink already.” The drink fizzed in front of him and Matt took no time in letting a big portion slip past his lips.

“What just happened back there?” He let his eyes fall to his brothers, both taking sips of their own drinks as they tried to study his expression.

“She is just drinking a lot and I’m a little concerned, the sudden switch up is making me worried about her.” Matt grabbed his glasses and swished the liquid around before placing it back on the bar mat.

“You know she isn’t over it dude, Cam I mean. After two years of that bullshit, I’m surprised she is just drinking a little more.” He knew Nick was trying to be reasonable, but it was hard to find reasons why anyone would miss a guy like that.

“But it’s him. He was, no, is, a dick. Surely, she knows that.”

“Of course she does, that’s why they broke up.” Chris leant forwards on the stool to speak over Nick’s shoulder. “She realised that he was treating her like shit. Doesn’t mean she can’t still love the idea of being with him. Y/n just needs time, she’ll get over it one day.”

“See even Chris gets it.” He smirks as Chris elbows his arm. “Just be there, that’s all anyone can do.”

Matt spent that night checking in on you every few hours and eventually was also there when you threw up in a plant pot, followed by a few tears. You knew you were being stupid as much as the next person. Yet, you just didn’t want to be in a position where you would be sober enough to message Cameron again.

But it wasn’t easy.

A few weeks later and it was soon Tara’s birthday. With all the chaos surrounding your ex-boyfriend you quickly found yourself running out of time to get her a gift. So, you thought it would be a good distraction from Cameron if you dragged Matt out the house for a day of shopping. Living in LA meant that you could get anything, anywhere.

You found yourselves standing amongst racks of vinyls and posters which were organised by certain artists. However, neither of you could find any fitting enough as a gift.

You stumbled among some racks of some rock and metal music, which seemed more appropriate for Tara. Going down the alphabet, you came across a Foo Fighter’s record covering their greatest hits.

“Y’know, Cam used to play this album whenever he was playing poker late at night. That’s how I knew to leave him alone.” The words slip past your lips with ease, as if it’s a casual and happy memory. But it’s only making Matt clench his jaw and lick his teeth as he nods at you.

Matt nodded at your mention of Cam. “That’s…cool” he mused, his casual demeanour hiding the sting in his chest each time you brought up Cam. He hated how your ex-boyfriend still shadowed every conversation like an unwanted guest. He forced a smile at your comment, his mind was filled with a mix of annoyance and jealousy as you laughed about Cam. He hated how you could find humour in something involving the person he disliked so much. He tried to hide his true feelings, keeping his response casual. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

The record slipped back into its original position alongside other similar artists while you continued looking. The meek smile on your face lingered before it was replaced with a poignant one. You had failed to notice the way he sighed next to you.

“You think she will like some metal instead?” All Matt wanted to do was steer clear of this section, hoping it would clear both your minds of Cam.

He relaxed when you nodded and placed the vinyl back into the racks. he knew why it irked him so much, but he wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone, not even himself. He had to, he was aware but anytime he thought too much about it, it brought him back to moments like this. Where all you did was think about Cameron, whether it became vocal or not.

He hadn’t realised it, but he had zoned out, deep in thought and now found himself now standing around some posters hung up like clothes. It was the average mixture between random decoration for a room of shows or films and the tour posters for several concerts. Matt pondered for a moment before scrolling through the first section.

“Hey what abo-“ The poster he had pinched between his fingers fell through as he noticed you had already picked one up. It was just an old movie poster, released years ago. He barely even recognised it until he saw the name. “What’s that..?”

“Just an old poster, I actually got this for Christmas last year…Well it was actually January but whatever.” Your head shook lightly pushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. “I don’t think I have even seen this film, maybe as a kid?”

“Y/n. Can you stop talking about him.”

“I- uh what?” Your head whipped sideways to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion that slowly faded away upon noticing his stern expression.

“All you do is talk about him, I’m sick of hearing about him.”

The awkward silence hung in the air while you both stared at each other for a few moments in shock of the situation. The noise of footsteps and the general buzz of people faded into background noise as you both stood there. Neither one of you knew what to say, just looking into each other’s eyes with slight turmoil.

Matt looked away for a moment and sighed, rubbing a hand across his face before looking back at you with a kinder appearance. He didn’t want to upset you, that much was clear by the way his eyes softened.

“Listen, it’s not you,” he spoke gently, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I just can’t stand hearing you talk about him all the time. Every conversation we have, you end up bringing him into it.”

Your gaze fell to the floor as you listened to his words, guilt hitting you slowly. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. You weren’t entirely surprised by his words, but it still stung. You knew you talked about Cam a lot, you knew you were still hung up over him. However, you couldn’t get rid of the gut feeling knowing you were irritating the only person who always listened.

Silently, you took a deep breath, your eyes wandering back to the display in front of you. Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the folded movie poster in your hands, the paper crumpling under your fingers.

“I- I guess I do talk about him too much.” A sheepish smile crossed your face as you scoffed, the slight acceptance creeping into your voice.

“I get why you do it, it’s just frustrating when all I want to do is hang out with you.” His body leant against the edge of the rack filled with the posters. He hadn’t failed to notice the guilt in your expression, and he made his best attempt at a smile to diffuse the situation.

It was hard not to laugh at the irony of the situation. Talking about Cam with Matt was usually a source of comfort. Now, it was the reason for this tension.

“Sorry, I don-“ You were cut off with Matt’s hand covering your mouth, his cold rings hitting the sides of your lips.

“I don’t wan’ you apologizing for some dumb shit, I just-“ His head hung low as he paused to breathe. “Let’s focus on Tara and her gift, yeah?” Hesitantly, his palm lowered from your mouth, allowing you to respond.

“Mhm…” Your fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the edges of the movie poster once more before placing it on the rack.

Two weeks later and it was finally time for Tara’s party. They were hard to miss from the blaring music emitting out the speakers, not that you minded her music taste. The entirety of the venue was packed with people, most of which were already tipsy. Lights were shining into every corner possible, switching between every which colour. It was humid and it all hit you as soon as you entered the main doors, allowing no easy transition. However, with the amount of time that you had spent in these environments the past few weeks meant that it was a quicker process. The stench of alcohol was one almost every person you talked to, whether they had drunk themselves or not.

Despite the average chaos that spilled around you, you found slight solace in the familiar atmosphere. Parties had become more of an occurrence since your breakup with Cameron, alcohol aiding in drowning out heavy thoughts. That was enough for now, even if it was only temporary.

After you bought your usual drink order, you mingled your way through the crowd before finding a glimpse of Matt’s chain as it reflected the party’s lights. He seemed to have gravitated towards the bar, sitting with his brothers.

A quick glance over his shoulder revealed you, threading your way through the crowd. His gaze followed you, and a flicker of concern crossed his features, knowing well that alcohol was now a fixture in your system.

“Y/n, hey what’s up” He had tried to maintain his friendly advances, no matter how much slight worry seeped in.

"Hey, just thought I'd come say hi to my favourite people." You lifted your half-empty glass to your lips and took a sip, savouring the tart liquid. You managed a smile, the effects of the alcohol evident in your slightly hazy eyes and flushed face.

“You clean yourself up nicely, kid.” You looked to the side and saw Chris’s smile beaming at you.

Normally you would wear a simple black dress that accessorised your skin nicely but for this event you pulled out a high lined piece.

It was a sleek, shimmering material that her body effortlessly, hugging every contour, emphasizing your curves. A slit starts at your knee allows for a quick glimpse of skin, adding an element to its design. The silver material captures the disco light with every movement. The gown continues to flow down, stopping at a dangerously low open back that shows off your skin.

“It is a Tara Yummy party, you expect me not to go all out?” You laced your thoughts with sarcasm which you covered with a giggle.

“Fair enough, you certainly look the part.” Chris let out a quiet laugh, barely audible over the heavy music, before leaning back towards the bar to sit his drink.

As the hours of the night lengthened on, you found the liquids pouring faster into your system. Dared to do a shot turned into three and before you knew it, you were sick. The upstairs bathroom became your new best friend as you made a poor attempt at holding your hair back.

It had been about thirty minutes since Matt heard the cheering of you downing a Jager bomb without any reaction. He hadn’t wanted to ruin your fun, instead he favoured watching you occasionally and hoping to keep you out of harm. After all, with the amount you had chosen to drink recently, he wasn’t going to risk anything. He wasn’t going to let you risk your safety.

With a reliant hunch, he walked towards the upper half of the venue. It was almost reminiscent of downstairs with an identical layout. The main differences where in the wallpaper and painting designs. He couldn’t focus too much on it. You were his priority.

The sounds of gagging, followed by a harsh sound gave Matt a clear indication where you were. He raised the back of his fist to the door and knocked three time before voicing himself. “y/n..? it’s just me, okay? May I come in, I’m worried about you.

You simply hummed in approval, cut off by a dry heave that left a sting in your abdomen. It was a sight that no matter how many times he found you in this position, he never got used to it. Not that it meant he’d leave you alone on the cold tiles.

The door shut with a soft click when Matt pressed the sole of his foot against the painted wood. He was currently busy taking off his leather jacket that had been around his body all night. Luckily, the floor was smooth, so he placed the jacket loosely around your bare shoulders instead. Even sober you’d refuse to wear one, unless it followed a strict set of guidelines. More often than not you would end up leaving a venue with someone else’s clothing on you, typically Matt’s.

“Hey…” His voice was soft, making you quietly aware of his concerned kindness. “How you feeling, kid?”`

He chuckled when you met his gaze with a hard stare. It was a stupid question. Anyone could look in and would immediately know what was happening. Your dishevelled appearance was a noticeable change compared to hours before. Strands of hair pulled themselves out the hair tie and framed your face with sweat.

“Yeah, that’s my bad. Want a water or anything?”

“Nuh uh, I’ve got one ‘ere.” The water in the bottle swished around as you lifted it slightly, dropping it once you knew he saw. It was compressed by what he could only assume by the force of your hand when you threw up.

You hated throwing up, like any other person. Yet in these states only Matt ended up remembering how bad they were.

Once you heaved again, he took the hair from your clenched fist and pulled it up neater than you did. With relief, you used your now free hand to hold the toilet as the drinks came up again. The water bottle came into grip again but relaxed when you felt Matt’s hand rest on your back. Due to the low cut of your dress, he was directly soothing your skin. His touch burned into your skin, and you couldn’t tell whether it was because it was hot or the slight shock of his actions.

“Just breathe...in…and out, yeah?” Suddenly, his breathes became louder, giving you a clear example of what to mimic. They were steady and at a slow enough pace that you didn’t feel overwhelmed. “See, you’re fine.”

Matt helped you lean up properly so that you could drink some water to wash away the bitter taste in your mouth. “Bet you have sobered up a bit, huh?” You chuckled as your back slumped against the cold porcelain.

“God, m’such an idiot.”

“You know you’re not, it’s just some…unfortunate choices” His hand moved from your back to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He hated how you felt bad for being in this position. Of course, throwing up your guts at a party was never ideal but there was obviously more than that. He just waited until you opened up to him.

“It’s not though. Matt…I’m being so stupid by doing this to myself” The slur in your words had lightened but it was still evident through certain words.

As soon as the sides of your lips relaxed and your body drooped, he noticed almost immediately, sliding so that your shoulders were touching. His own lips pulled themselves into a tip lipped smile when he saw your eyes lose their vibrancy.

“Cam broke up with me and all I seem to do is fall back onto alcohol. It’s like I’m fucking turning into hi- “

“No.” His hand twitched by his side, unable to decide what to do. “You aren’t him, you never will be him. Don’t think like that all because of a few drinks.”

“But I- “ With a swift movement, he raised his hand to your mouth again.

“Don’t. I’m not having you lie to yourself kid. You aren’t like him, not even close. You think I’d be here if you were anything like him?” Underneath his grip you silently shake your head followed by the removal of his hand.

“Exactly. I ain’t reminding you of the obvious again.”

“But. What exactly am I doing here.” The hurt in your eyes became more prominent as tears flourished.

“Coping. No one said the method was healthy but…” Matt took his hand off your shoulder and laid it between his tucked knees. His neck turned to face you, your head already facing his.

“Am I the only one who wishes we had gravity falls playing right now.” For the first time in a few minutes you cracked a smile, wiping away tears before they fell.

“If this place didn’t have shit signal, I’d already have that loaded up.” Whilst he talked, he grabbed the toilet roll quietly and handed it to you without another word. He bumped your aim playfully, getting you to focus on anything but the tears.

“You wanna know something…?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you spoke. “The more I think about it, the more I see that…you actually treat me better than Cameron ever did. You’re actually the reason I broke up with him, knowing what I could have instead of him. And…I don’t mean to talk about him, I know you hate it. Frankly, I do too, but it’s difficult not talking about someone who impacted me as much as Cam did, no matter how negative it is.”

During the entirety of your ramble, Matt stays silent. His heart is pounding in his chest at your words. You were drunk, sobered a little by the throw up. But still drunk. He isn’t sure what to take to heart and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up by anything stupid. His tongue darts between his lips, wetting them before returning to his mouth which felt just as dry. Whatever feeling this was, he hated the way it tugged at every thought he’s ever had about you. He has always wanted you to speak this way to him, see that you deserve better. Hopefully deserve him. But when it came down to finally hearing those precious words. You just had to be drunk.

“y-yeah..? I didn’t know I impacted you that much. I just wanted to be a good friend to you..” God, he didn’t like the way that word rolled off his tongue.

“You’re more than just a good friend to me, Matt. You do know that, right?”

Fuck.

He hated this. Hated the way you spoke so gently to him, like a wild deer in the woods. Hated the way you let yourself look at him like that. Hated the way he wanted to pull you that little bit closer. He hated that you were drunk.

“We should get back to the party, people are probably wondering where we both are.” Matt’s body quickly pushed itself up, back onto his two feet. His hand reached out to you but his gaze didn’t meet yours anymore. “You feeling better..?”

The sudden switch hadn’t hit you yet and you simply mumbled a small ‘mhm’ and took his hand which ended up around your shoulders.

That night ended for you quite early. Apposed to your normal standards, you went home as soon as the clock it 12. The sky still seemed bright with the amount of light that surrounded the venue.

You hadn’t interacted with Matt after your small talk in the bathroom. He ushered the both of you out the room and left you shortly after. He didn’t seem panicked, more rushed than anything. The way the subject switched so quickly took a while to register in your head and when you finally realised it, he was no where to be seen. Whether he left the party or not was still up to debate, but you didn’t exactly try and find him as much as you should’ve.

The following morning was rough, the drinks you had taken had gone to your head and given you a headache, it wasn’t that bad compared to ones you had before. However, you still found yourself lying in your bed for hours after taking medication. The songs that you played in your headphones was a contrast to the ones that blasted last night. They were on a dim volume and were calming instrumentals. With the way your head ached, you weren’t about to risk making it worse.

A light yawn left your mouth, and you thought it was about time that you got on with your day. Taking some medication helped tremendously and you ordered yourself some fries to satiate your hunger.

One thing managed to throw you off, Matt hadn’t messaged you yet. It was almost a guarantee that he would message you, especially after a night out. Not a single message had come through. He didn’t have to message you, but he always did.

That’s when it hit you. The conversation in the bathroom before he left you for the rest of the night. Surprisingly, you remembered the majority of the dialogue you shared, your drunk self making you share more than you would ever sober.

“You’re more than just a good friend to me, Matt. You do know that, right?”

“Matt…Hey.”

You found yourself standing at the porch of the triplet’s house, rocking back from the heel to toe of your feet. The floor was slightly wet from a small rain shower mere hours prior. Creaks echoed when the door opened in front of you showing Matt’s familiar frame.

“Uh, hey? What’s up” You had tried not to notice the way his posture stiffening, but it was hard when he had failed to make it appear subtle. “Need anything?”

“Sorta, I need to talk to you, can I come in?” A shaky breath stood in the air between you both before he nodded and stood aside. His house was the same as ever, a constant other than him that you appreciated.

“Where are Nick and Chris?” You loved the pair to bits but frankly, you didn’t want them to stand around you and Matt while you had this conversation.

He shrugged slightly, walking into the kitchen. “They stayed with Tara last night, gonna be home in a few hours.”

“About last night…” You trailed off, looking down before you began again. “I know that I was drunk but- I do remember the conversation we had. Well, most of it and I-”

“It’s fine, you were drunk, it’s already forgotten, okay?” His hand waved in the air as if to dismiss your words, but his soft smile made your stomach and expression twist.

“No Matt... that’s not it. Look, I may have been drunk but what I said, I meant it. You do treat me better than Cam ever did, and you make me feel safer than he ever did. I mean it when I say that you’re important to me. I care about you and I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable last night. I really am but…” The sentence trailed off as you breathed deeply. He approached you slowly.

“y/n…”

“I don’t want to lie and say that you don’t mean that much to me. You’ve stood by me for years, especially recently and I don’t- I don’t want to lose you because of what I said.” Both your fists clenched somewhat as you kept talking.

“Y/n.”

“When I broke up with Cam, the only thing that went through my head was your words. The ones you said to me after a big fight we had, and I ended up crying in your room. The idea of not having you in my life-”

“Y/N.” His palms gripped the sides of your shoulders, his expression pleading with you to listen to him. His eyes search yours momentarily before drifting quickly to your lips. “I wouldn’t trade you for the world, you know that right...?”

“Y-yeah..? really?” He raised his eyebrow after you spoke, as if shocked you’d question that.

“Doubt that again and we will have problems, m’kay?” All you could do was shy away and nod silently.

He gently gripped your chin, lifting it so you faced him straight on. “I mean it…you’re so important to me…so important. You aren’t gonna lose me that easily.”

You followed his gaze and met his own lips, the silence growing longer. His eyes fluttered back up to your eyes, trying to read your emotions. Slowly but surely his hand floated from your shoulders to the tips of your fingers, always colder than his. Matt’s body grew closer to yours and it became evident when you saw his feet slide to meet the rest of his body.

“May I…?” The way he spoke was so gentle you almost missed it. You looked at him and cleared your throat softly as you nodded gently.

Even with permission from both sides it was hesitant. Both of you had been friends for years with not even a single conversation about love lives. Matt had spent the better part of two years pining after someone he couldn’t have. Yet now you were here, standing directly in front of him. Before you could change your mind, he leaned in.

It was soft, your lips barely touching each other. It was just enough for the feeling to be real. His hand grazed the side of your neck before reaching into strands of your hair, tilting you forwards. His eyes were barely open, wanting to somewhat see this moment he’s dreamed of become a reality. You pushed it a little deeper, feeling the extent both of you were willing to give. It was slow but it meant everything. You felt your breath hitch slightly and your stomach grew an unfamiliar feeling, one you never had with Cameron before. You couldn’t help but crave more, more of him. His lips pressed against yours softly, you could feel his breath against his. The hand that held your fingers moved to your waist line and snaked around the fabric that hugged your skin. His lips moved against yours for only a few more seconds before Matt broke away.

He pulled back just enough to speak gently. “God, I know its cliché, but I’ve wanted to do that for a fucking while.”

You giggled at the mere thought of it. Matt couldn’t help but scoff when he heard the chuckle fall from your lips.

“I don’t think you really understand how much I hated when you talked about Cam, as if you still loved the idea of being with him.”

“I don’t. I promise you that.” You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You might have to prove that one to me again.” His attempt at flirting just made you giggle again as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that.” It was now his turn to roll his eyes at you. His head angled gently as he captured your lips in another but shorter kiss.

“Fucking finally, you two are actual dumbasses.”

Matt was quick to break the kiss and both your heads whipped around to see both Nick and Chris staring at you with folded arms. Their bags rested against their shins which seemed to be abandoned long ago.

“Wow matt, one night alone and you spend it with a girl. Nick, you owe me 50 bucks.” Begrudgingly, Nick pulled out his wallet and offered him the money which Chris instantly snatched.

“Wait, you two had a bet on us?” There was now some distance between you and Matt, only brought together by occasional eye contact.

“As if we wouldn’t, what do you take us for.” Chris has seemed so sure of himself, and his smug expression lingered on his face. He nudges Nick before giving him a certain look. Matt mouths a small sorry towards you, knowing this was going to be the new normal.

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lieslab · 3 months ago

Text

Nothing new

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Minho finds you on the porch when the hurt from the issues your father gave you tends to bubble up and fizz over.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.3K

Trigger warning: Daddy issues, grief, depression, anxiety, mentions of physical violence and emotional abuse.

A/N: I forgot that I wrote a daddy issue post like a week or two ago because I have the memory of a goldfish. I haven't done a Minho drabble in a while and honestly, this was one hundred percent completely self-indulgent and I cannot lie about it. I was spiraling and this was what conjured up in the middle of my grief. I'm so sorry if you can relate, we deserve better <3

_ _ _

"Why are you hanging out here alone?” Minho plopped down beside you on the back wooden porch.

You couldn’t remember how long you had been here. Maybe it was mere minutes or maybe it was more like hours. Time seemed to blend together out here and you let it.

The sun was starting to set. It painted the sky with roaring reds and bright oranges. Streaks of clouds were beginning to fade further and further away into the distance. Soon the sun would set and the moon would begin to climb the darkened skies.

“I’ve been calling your name for a while. I thought you were in our bedroom, but you didn’t respond. I even thought you were showering until I found the bathroom empty. I was starting to think you had been kidnapped or something.”

You shrugged, “I’m just here.”

“So what are you thinking about?”

“Noth-”

“Bullshit. You don’t turn into a recluse unless you’re truly struggling with something. You know that I’m not going to judge you, so what are you really thinking about?”

“Everything all at once.”

“Anything specific?”

“Family.”

His face softened at the mention of your family. Life with your family has been chaotic. He knew the stories, you always told him about them. More specifically, he knew the issues that you had with your father.

“Daddy issues again?”

“Or perhaps my brain is the issue.” You shifted and leaned back. Your legs hung down the descending stairs, but your upper half clung to the deck. “I just…I just wish I could stop making it a big deal. I wish things didn’t affect me so much. I wish actions and words would run off me like water instead of sticking.”

“It’s not wrong to mourn the things you missed out on. I understand that it must be hard to deal with the cards life gave you. Everyone has struggles and yours just happens to be your father.”

“You’d think it’d stop once you grow up.”

He paused for a moment and his eyes went out to the backyard. Off in the distance, the shared vegetable garden bloomed. Bright grown plants flourished in every direction. Two white cabbage butterflies chased each other around and around. Soon they’d land on an outer cabbage leaf and begin to munch away without a care in the world.

“I think realizing it when you get older makes it worse. You become aware of the injustice and hurt which causes a cognitive disconnect. It makes it cut that much deeper. You don’t have to feel bad for feeling something so natural.”

“You know what the worst part is?” You finally got out. The sting of tears began to collect in the corners of your eyes. “He’s not even a good man. We’re talking about one of the worst people out there and yet I still feel myself chasing after him.”

“The kind of person who picks strangers over his own children. The type who spends money on stupid things instead of the youngest child’s needs. The kind of person who has no issue yelling and screaming in someone’s face. The kind that lets their anger control them and make all the decisions.”

“But yet…I keep chasing. I keep hoping and praying. I’ve started to talk to God,” a tearful snort fell from your mouth. “I don’t even know if I believe in him, but I’ve talked to him. I keep asking for a better father, but all I hear is silence.”

“They say you should stay in contact with your parents because they’re your parents, but what if a parent is making you so stressed and upset, your hair falls out? What if it leads to sobbing and emotional distress? What if it leads to screaming and fighting? What if trying to love my father is what kills me?”

Minho’s heart broke apart at your words. He knew it was bad and it had been for a while, but he didn’t know it was this bad. His hand instinctively reached out for yours. The warmth of his palm connected with yours and curled around your fingers.

“And you know what the worst part is?”

“Hmm?”

“If I leave him, that’s it. He won’t change and try to become a better person. He won’t think about his actions and go out of his way to change. He’ll just point the finger and belittle me. Run my name through the mud to every family member. He’ll belittle me, turn me into an outsider, pull the curtain over everyone’s eyes again. He’ll always be the good father in his eyes and I’ll just become another asshole that did him wrong. Just like the hundreds of other people that he once upon a time knew.”

Narcissism was deadly for some. Too much of an ego and too much self-imposed-importance left people craving attention. No matter whose character they had to rip apart, they’d do it. Whether that meant belittling them to everyone they knew, screaming at them, or even assaulting them.

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

All the attention had to be swallowed by them. Like some sort of powerful sun, the rays never knew how brightly they burned. Any ounce of criticism was a pot of boiling hot water.

The huffs and puffs. The finger in your face. The yelling and screaming as spit flew everywhere. The broadening rage that seemed to fill the room without a single sound. The angry marching from them as you tiptoed along on eggshells. Just when you let out a breath, they snapped and lashed out.

You didn’t have time to react before you became a victim of another episode. Another rage fest where things went flying. When the refrigerator door slammed shut so hard that the shelves full of condiments shook. The way that cupboards were dented from the force of wood slamming against wood.

Your dad would always be your dad, but he’d never be a good father. You could cry and cry and cry. You could cry enough tears to create an ocean, but it’d never be enough to wash the hate out of your father. That realization caused your heart to break apart.

Your biological father would never love you, at least, not the way you loved him. Your chasing was starting to slow down. You could spend a few more years chasing his love and begging on your knees for it, but when was the last time your father said he loved you?

When was the last time you were your father’s child? When was the last time that your father seemed to give a shit about you? Did he know your favorite color? Did he know the songs that caused your heart to boom with adrenaline?

Better yet, did he know something as simple as your birthday? Does he know or does he laugh as he asks you because it’s not such a big deal to him? So when he hands you a card from the dollar store with his name, does it feel just as worthless as his love for you?

“Is it wrong to want to be loved?”

“Never. It’s never wrong to be loved and I’m sorry you don’t have that kind of love. If you want me to, I’ll share my father with you.”

“I haven’t even met your father.”

“Oh, I was talking about Bang Chan.”

“Minho!” You leaned over to lightly slap his shoulder. Before you could reach it, he jerked out of reach. His hand grabbed your wrist and he jerked you closer.

“Hey!”

Your annoyance instantly dissolved the moment his lips met yours. Your body relaxed and you began to kiss him back. At this moment, none of your father’s lack of love mattered. Right now, you had this and what a fool you’d be to ever give it up.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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