#i think the worst part of depression for me is that when you need help the most is when its the hardest to reach out

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~NEVER WITH YOU, CAN'T WITHOUT YOU

tw; angst, nsfw, mdni, heavy angst once again, toxic relationship, something i call a "boomerang" relationship.

Simon and you were something not many people understood, not many people got. No one knew why you always got back with him- but they didn't feel the way you did for him, they didn't know what it was like. The break ups you two had was harsh. Worthless calls, drunk fucked up texts, desperate gifts and desperate hearts. You wished for something different, a sign from god- that this wasn't the end.

A different ending, a different life, a meaning, anything. You begged for anything, prayed, wept for what could have been each, but it never was. It was for the best, you told yourself. You were miserable, and you hated it. Getting drunk almost every weekend, giving him drunk texts and calls - leading to one night stands and filthy promises of a "second chance," for the hundredth time you promised it would be different. Fucking him, and humping his thigh like you needed it for life- he kissed you like he wanted you. Like you were air, he needed you to breathe. Always the words, "You're mine," Never, "I'm yours" while pounding his hips against you- and it felt comforting, it felt hot, you felt taken care of. Rutting his hips against you and telling you how much of a "Filthy fuckin' slut you are," for him. All for him. "Ain't that right baby girl? Ain't that right, Yeah it is. Look at this cunt clenchin' me like it needs me to fucking breathe- exactly, go on you slut, slut for me, right? Just me, just me." He fucked you like he hated you, but treated you like he loved you, afterwards. Balance. It never was different. Never for you. You never knew how he felt, you never even saw him cry, never even saw him shed a single tear for you, it made you think did he really love you? You've had several break ups, you two always got back together, he belonged to you, that's the way it had to be. Your break ups got so common you expected a second chance all the time - always just knowing, that you'd go back to him in a heartbeat, or he would come back for you. So when you appeared at his doorstep for the last time - sober this time, your eyes were baggy, red. Your lips were swollen and you were flushed, and he.. showed nothing. "Simon. Can we stop this?" You started, and swallowed. You looked up into his eyes, opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "No." A singular word that made your eyes widen, you weren't expecting that. You wanted to speak again, refuse to believe what you just heard- maybe he was just joking? But he spoke again. "This, was the last time. I'm not playing this game with you anymore, I'm tired of it. Go home, and move on." He said, and shut his door in your face without any emotions. So much for him telling you he loves you more. Drunk texts ended up on a blocked number- calls that were never picked up. Was it really the end? You couldn't believe it, you still loved him, you still cried over him. Spending weeks, days, months in your bed and barely doing anything, not going outside, not daring. Sunlight became a sickness, happiness became a distant hope- a distant want. He was your happiness. You drank alcohol, turned to what you promised you wouldn't, barely let anyone in - your hygiene was poor - non existent. Your hair was a mess, not being brushed in a week, your teeth neither, smoking cigarettes like it's a need. Depression. No hookups, no rebounds, no ways to cope with what had happened to you - with what he did to you. And the worst part was? You didn't even know if he ever cared. Was he pretending, just to keep you there until he got bored? It pissed you off, but you loved him. And god you denied and denied, denied denied until that was your personality, denying the truth. Your closest friends knew only, not even your mother could help, all you did was lay at home. They say time fixes things. Fuck that shit, because what the fuck did time fix? Nothing. 4 Months after that stupid fucking breakup and you still have nothing to show for it - you're still a mess- still chaos, still can't forget the way his lips felt against your soft tender skin. And how you got over it? Time had nothing to do with it. What did though, was a huge bottle of whiskey and a night out where you poured your heart to the first strange man you saw- and he told you, the most devastating sentence you wish you never had to hear. The most grieving and painful words that you'd ever heard,

"You want him to come back. He won't. He will never come back, Y/N. He doesn't love you." And it broke you. Broke you just to build you after - just to help you up and pick up the pieces putting it together like a puzzle. You slowly gained your confidence - motivation back, brushing your teeth again, brushing your hair, going outside. Shopping, cooking again instead of eating junk food. You stopped drinking and got your job back- not as good as before, but good enough. During breakups people tell you- "A few weeks after you get your life back together - he will fade, you won't remember him anymore." That was a lie. He was still in your mind all the time, seeing your favorite flower, the restaurant you always went to, his favorite foods, it all made you reminded of him. It all made you miss him even more, but you had to go through this. You had a goal, and you couldn't give up. But still you wondered each time, did he think of you, did he miss you? And then you were reminded of it all - of your relationship, and you told yourself he wouldn't. He doesn't miss you. He doesn't care at all. And maybe it was the truth afterall. ~~

"Earth to Lieutenant? I swear to god, LT, these past few months it's like you're in your own headspace. Can't even talk to you anymore," Soap chuckled, nudging Ghost. Ghost finally turned to look at his friend in the eyes. No one exactly ever knew what he felt, he always had a dead look in his eyes, never happy, never emotional. They never noticed. But this time? They weren't dead. They were full of emotions, - sorrow, could be mistaken for one who just lost someone to death, not they were the ones that were dead. His eyes were red, and Soap noticed, he swallowed. He didn't think it was that serious. His eyes weren't looking like he never felt happiness. No no, it was worse, his eyes looked like he felt happiness - and then it was killed in front of him. Like it was choked, stabbed, hung, shot to death. Broken, harmful. Soap knew why. Watching Ghost pack all of his pictures of you and him thrown out in the trashcan, broken picture frames and love letters burnt in the fireplace - He knew from the start. He spoke, looking away. "I Still don't get it, Lieutenant. You love her so much, why didn't you let her stay? Lass' came back to you, and you just told her no." Ghost's eyes darkened and he looked down at the floor. He grabbed the cup of whiskey in front of him- Tennessee, but it didn't taste good anymore, nothing tasted good anymore. "For her sake, Johnny. It was for her sake. Did you see how much better she's doin without me? Lassie is happy, I'm not, but god for fucks sake, I don't deserve to be." He said, and he poured the cup down his throat like it was needed. He slammed it down and poured himself another shot as he spoke. "I was holding her back. It's fucking killin' me Johnny, look at me. I always thought I was already dead, but It feels like I'm fucking dying. But look at my angel. Look at her, look at my pretty girl Johnny, she's shining better than she could with me. And fuck, if I could have her.." A tear fell down his face, and he sobbed the last sentences out. "She's all I ever wanted. I don't want anyone like her, I want her, I always wanted her. She's my damn way of life. But loving is letting go, and fuck love, but I love her. More than anything, I love her. And if she's better off without me," He cried now, and looked at Johnny. "I want her to have the best, and lord knows, I'm not it." Chugging the last cup of whiskey down, and he stood up, putting the empty cup down. "Headin' to sleep now." He said, and went to his room. Locked himself in and stared at the gun in front of him, debating. He cried for you, that night. And if only, he knew how you really felt. **HAPPY ENDING FROM HERE: DONT READ IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE.** ~~ 8 months. 8 Sad, miserable months after he last saw you. He still loved you, and you still loved him. You didn't contact, message or call at all - Until one day. You left him a voicemail. "For my dearest Simon. I still love you, more than anything I do. I will miss you always, I miss you now, the most. My life is successful and it feels incomplete- without you, without us. I love you forever, yours forever- Y/N." He broke that day. He sobbed to Johnny on how much he misses you too, for the first time breaking down - and he decided he was gonna make this right, change. Because you deserved better. So he's gonna be better, for you. When you two met up again, he greeted you with a hug. His girl was back in his arms, back with him, back for him. This time, at the coffee shop, he didn't say, "You belong to me," like usual. He kissed you, and you kissed back. Rubbing his palm that was on your cheek, and he whispered, "Y/N, I belong to you. Forever." And that sentence was the one engraved inside the ring he put on your finger, after 3 years.

A/N: Yeah I'm.. actually so sorry, I cried during making this I love you guys, I'm ABSOLUTELY sorry if the happy ending isn't your type its why I put a warning, but I needed it. also HEY, just a quick warning over here -

THIS IS A FANFICTION! I REPEAT, THIS IS A FANFICTION, DON'T GO BACK TO YOUR EX, IT ENDED FOR A GODDAMN REASON! HE DOESNT LOVE YOU, but in the fanfiction simon does

[lylian333]

~Yandere emperor x reader~

warning: read at your own risk, traumatizing, dark historical shits, noncon, force, many misunderstandings,sexual harrest , angst ,age gap, everything here is quite insane, historical au, he's fucking crazy, killing, insults, English is not my first langue(if there's any warning I didn't put, tell me)

words:2180

(this is not my art I found it on Pinterest, and in the comment section it's said that it was made by AI so💀)

~~

Princess (y/n) Laurier has been best friends with Princess Alyssa Everett since you both were just 6 years old. You both have many things in common, such as interests, opinions, and much more.

You both would usually hang out around each other's kingdom; you don't have any issues with her except with her father, Emperor Edward Everett. He was the hottest, most handsome man you have ever met, and you still do now.

You have had a huge crush on him that felt like butterflies inside your stomach since the day you met him, but he always has that emotionless face and rarely smiles unless at his wife, your best friend's mother. You know this from Princess Alyssa; she would complain about how cold and serious he is.

You still ignore those and try getting to know him, but he just looks annoyed or just straight-up ignores you, but you ignore it and still continue liking him. Not only that, you're not the only one; it's obvious that everyone that has met him, females and even males, all drool for him.

You still have some sense in you, and you also have to respect the Everett queen and Princess Alyssa since she is your best friend. You can't just let some love ruin the relationship you both had. You can't. She is like a sister to you. She helps you when you're confused; she protects and defends you when you were getting laughed at; she is there when you needed someone the most. It's not worth losing a relationship like this, and so your liking toward his father slowly dies down.

But things change when you grow up and start having features and curves and in the end, you become a gorgeous woman, many people are jealous of you even Princess Alyssa confesses to you about it and some desperately want you. You reject all of them since none of them are worthy of you, and you're disinterested in them.

Your intense gaze and soft complexion, with your structured face and striking presence, are on par with an iconic beauty, paired with the warmth and softness in your expression, which are very delicate. You would struggle to not look at yourself when there is a mirror.

You still have some feelings toward Emperor Edward, but you manage to hide it and be able to not think about him when talking to him.

The worst thing that could have happened was that the Queen of Everett died from childbirth while trying to give birth to the heir to the throne, but it went to a disaster. It was devastating news to hear from everyone.

The emperor was absolutely devastated and even despised the child. From that moment on he would never talk to anyone unless it was part of a duty, but other than that he would ignore the servant's advisers and even his own kids, which left Princess Alyssa depressed since she had to bear her mother's death, her father's coldness, and the baby boy that her mother lost her life to.

That week she came crying to you when you came to visit her and attended the funeral of the Everett Queen death. You decide to stay at Everett Palace for a few months before going back to Laurier Kingdom.

You promised Princess Alyssa that you'd take care of her and her baby brother, and so you did. After all, back at your kingdom and your family, you have 6 siblings, plus you, and you are the third eldest, which makes you the middle You have experience with babies after the experience of you sibling that you swear are more naughtyer when you take care of them.

In those months of staying, Emperor noticed that you had to take care of the baby boy and Princess Alyass when he found you singing a lullaby for them to fall asleep.

At that moment something in him awoke, something dark, horrible, and disgusting. He knew this was wrong, but who was there to stop him? Not even himself could do that.

From that moment on, he would try getting close to you and getting to know you better; by that, he would call you into his office or into his chamber. When talking, he would get close to you, too close, to the point that he's invading your personal space by burying his face in your hair, breathing in that sweet, gentle scent, or sucking and biting your earlobe.

You knew this was wrong. You both knew this was wrong, but you guys still continued. Your brain keeps telling you to stop and that this is your best friend's father, but your gut tells you to continue. For your best friend Princess Alyssa's sake.

At one of those meetings, you confess to him that you don't want to continue these "meetings" to respect your best friend Alyssa and her baby brother Prince James.

But when he hears that you swear you could feel the air getting tense and his face looks tense as well, and with clenched fists, he looks like he could kill someone that might have been you or others.

He then pushes you onto his office desk and forcefully rips your clothes off. All you can remember that day was just horror, pure fucking horror. It haunts your dreams, memories, and everything that you see that can somehow be related to the day you and he were together.

The cherry on top is Emperor Endward sends an arranged marriage to your kingdom between you both; you pray that your parents would reject this offer, but no. Instead, they accept it and send you a letter telling you the reasons that this could help our kingdom very much and this could give you a better future and more, but all you care about is that you're trapped with him. They also added in that they would be unable to see because of the distance of the two kingdoms and that it is time to set you free.

Oh, how you wish it were true to let you spread your wings and have your own freedom.

You hated everything, mostly yourself. You hated yourself for not being more alert and not telling anyone, not even your own family or close ones; you—you can't even describe the feeling that you're feeling at that point. You quite literally were disgusted by yourself.

You cry all day long to the point where Princess Alyssa hears it and finds you, and you vomit out all the things that happened while still crying. You wish the earth could just eat you whole, make you disappear from the earth, from this world, from this life.

You keep pressuring yourself that this is your fault for days till your hair has a few strands of white hair that you have noticed.

The wedding was within the week, and you both got married and wed. That very day and night of the "honeymoon," he slams you against the bed carelessly and forcibly spears open your legs with his hand while another pins both your head on top of your head.

You whisper near your ear,True to be told, I have actually noticed that since you were just a little girl, you always had a crush on me, so technically you wanted this to happen, so don't cry like last time, dear."

Your eyes go wide when you hear that he actually noticed. He knows that you have no words—absolutely no words.

That night was as horrible and traumatizing as the night you both had together. Princess Alyssa personally tries to help you escape; even after the marriage, she still supports you, even knowing the fact you are technically her stepmother.

But she accepted you, and you were quite stunned at how she handled the situation. Even though it was like hell, she still helped, whether by holding you while you were crying or whatever she was still there. It felt like she was starting to take care of you instead of you taking care of her like how you first promised.

In one of the many attempts of you trying to escape and her helping you with it, you both were caught, and Emperor Edward decided to punish you by isolating you and sentencing Princess Alyssa to be beheaded, his own daughter.

And you were forbidden to give her any visits after the situation. You didn't get the chance to even give her the last hug or talk or anything, not even a goodbye. You even threatened to kill yourself if he didn't allow you to see her, but he just laughs at you and tells the guards to throw you inside a dungeon where there's nothing, not even a window, so you have to rely on the fire outside.

Just like that, she's gone forever. You cry for days and refuse to eat, sleep, or even drink. The king himself has to personally force-feed you so that you don't die. You even scream and beat him as hard as you can in rage whenever you see him, but he just stands there, not unbothered. You might as well think that he doesn't even care or feel anything anymore, no remorse, no nothing, just disgusting lovesick eyes looking at you.

"I just can't get enough of you, love~"

Your life goes on until you have had enough, like enough one more year of this. You seriously don't think you want to be reincarnated into another life. You desperately want to feel things instead of being trapped in the shared chamber all day long, only allowed to go out to the garden for 1 hour to get fresh air with a few ladies in waiting and your own trusted servants near you to keep being aware of you and make sure you're not doing anything harmful to yourself or escaping.

You came up with the stupidest and most shameful idea. You decide to frame yourself for cheating on Emperor Edward and confess to him that you cheated. Making up fake clues for others to notice and gossip about, but the emperor refuses to believe it, so you told him personally.

"I cheated on you, Edward."

"You must be joking, dear. How would you even be able to do that, hm?"

but you just keep repeating the sentence, "I cheated on you."

This makes him overthink and triggers him, and he ends up struggling with you to death in the process. You still keep repeating the sentence, which forces him to grip your neck even harder till you are no longer breathing—not even a single movement, just soulless eyes staring straight.

When he realized that it was too late and there was no turning back, he let go of your neck, and you collapsed onto the ground, dead. He kneeled down next to you; finally, at this moment, he felt guilty for everything. He reflected on the things he had done to you, the amount of damage. Why didn't he think about this earlier? Maybe that could help him.

No, it's your fault for cheating on him. How dare you filthy women cheat on an emperor that has done everything for her sake? To this day he still blames you, but part of him does regret not caring what you felt and thought. He only treated you like a toy, a glass doll that would easily be broken. But he just couldn't help but love you with all his might, even if it meant hurting you.

He tried to keep your body from decomposing and rotting and would soak you in water to slow down the decomposing. He even went mad and brought you to the throne room for events, dressed you properly, stuffed you with cotton to keep you looking more alive, and said to others, "My wife is doing well; look at her, she's such a sleepy head; look at her sleeping, hehe…"

Sadly, eventually, he had no other choice but to finally bury you because your body was decomposing and smelling really bad. At the funeral, he gives a speech on how she was in his life and how he can't believe she died before him from 'sickness' and oh how sad he was and how he saw her glowing up into an elegant woman and more.

Prince James also gave a speech about how you try helping out, that he always sees her as a mother figure, and how (y/n) has always tried her best. He was innocent in all of these; as well, he even balled his eyes out when he found out that you died.

At the very last moment of seeing your face, he cupped your cheek one last time.

"Oh, how much I will miss you oh how I wish that I could go with you as well, but it's fine you don't need to worry love In my will, when I die, I'm going to be buried right next to you." He says that while chuckling while feeling remorse.

~~

omg, there are so many things I want to comment on but erm yeah this is how it is??? it could have been worse

[krirebr]

All Things Go 1

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Summary: It's been a few months since Steve was pulled out of the ice and immediately had to fight aliens with the newly formed Avengers. He is doing fine with all that, all things considered. Which is why he's so upset when he's suddenly benched from missions and forced to welcome a support omega into his home. He's fine!

Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending), panic attack, disassociation flashback, Steve actually having to deal with the PTSD and depression and anxiety he would so clearly have if he'd been through everything in the MCU, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, possible slow burn - we'll see All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh boy. Here I am. Back on my angsty bullshit. This story was kickstarted by this ask. It's an inverse of the program at the center of Still Life, but not in the same universe.

This idea was helped along a ton by @stellar-solar-flare who helped me overcome my fear of writing a mostly canon compliant Steve and dipping my toes into an Avengers AU.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Steve checked his watch for a third time as he paced around his apartment. It was bad enough that he had to indulge this ridiculous idea, but she was late on top of it. Four minutes, now. He’d been pacing for the last fifteen. He’d tried to sit down while he waited, but the buzz of the adrenaline just under his skin had been too strong. 

It was the disrespect, that’s what it was, that really bothered him in her tardiness. That was going around lately. A whole team that refused to listen to him. And then had the gall to go to Fury behind his back after what happened during the last mission. And yes, of course, it was all couched in concern. But he saw it for what it was: a mutiny. And he’d been benched because of it. From all missions for the foreseeable future. So what was he supposed to do now? Thawed out 70 years in the future just to be stranded without a purpose.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, the worst part was now six minutes late. A support omega. He’d scoffed right in Fury’s face when he’d “suggested” it. Of all the stupid, 21st-century things he’d encountered, this took the cake. Like there could possibly be some base alpha part of him that was so broken it could only be soothed by an omega with a degree in psychology. Ridiculous. He was fine!

But it’d been the kind of suggestion that didn’t come with the option to say no. Not if he ever wanted to get back on the team. So fine. He’d play nice, show her there was nothing wrong, and get her to sign off on him going back into the field. He’d be back in action in just a few days. And then he might be able to breathe again.

As he was about to start another lap of his living room, the doorbell finally chimed. He took a moment, so as not to seem like he’d been standing right next to it. Then he took a deep breath, pasted on that Captain America smile, and opened the door. “Hi,” he said, immediately stepping aside to give you room. “Come on in.”

“Captain Rogers,” you said with your own big smile as you introduced yourself, then picked up your valise from the ground beside you and stepped into his apartment. You were sharply dressed, professional. In how you held yourself, too. But your eyes were warm. And you were beautiful. It reminded him of some of the nicer omegas Buck used to go out with. There was a sharp pang in his chest. Like always, he ignored it. 

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” you continued. As if he’d had any sort of choice. “I’m so sorry I’m late. The security checks took longer than I’d expected.”

“No problem at all,” he said. Ten whole minutes. “I hadn’t even noticed. Here, let me put your bag in the room I set aside for you.”

“Oh, a guest room?” you asked. He stopped at your question, a little confused. Where else would you sleep? “That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll definitely appreciate having my own space. But, sleeping arrangements are something we can discuss and customize to fit our goals. Sharing a bed can be really helpful if sleep is something you’re struggling with.”

Absolutely not. No. Definitely not. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” he demurred. “With the serum, I really don’t require much sleep,” he called down to you as he quickly took your bag to the small guest room he’d finally furnished because he had to have somewhere to put you. It’d never occurred to him you’d want to share his bed. Did people really do that?

When he came back into the living room, you were still hovering by the door, your messenger bag slung over your shoulder and your hands clasped in front of you. You were looking around, taking in the blank walls, spartan furniture. Judging him probably. Well, it’s not like he’d had much time to decorate in between saving the world. What did any of that matter? “Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine,” you said, with a benign smile that seemed aggressively professional. “If you don’t mind, I’d love if we could sit and chat for a few minutes before we move on to anything else.” 

“Of course,” he said, with his own benign smile, as he gestured to the two couches that had come with the apartment. He waited for you to sit in one and then took a seat in the other, a mass-produced coffee table covering the chasm between you.

“First,” you said, your hands resting neatly in your lap, “I just wanted to make sure that my scent is one you’re comfortable having in your home on a long-term basis. I know that the real thing can sometimes be a little different than the sample you based your choice off of.”

Steve had just randomly grabbed one from the box he’d been presented with. He’d thrown it at Fury with a grumbled, “That one’s fine,” as he left the small room they’d given him to make his choice. He’d never even opened it.

He only got a vague hint of it now, sitting across the room from you. Floral maybe. He didn’t bother to take a deep breath, to catalogue it. You’d only be here for a few days max. Not enough time for your scent to permeate. So, it didn’t really matter what he thought about it.

“Yes, it’s fine,” he nodded at you.

“Good,” you said, your smile becoming slightly more genuine. “Well, first I can take a few minutes to talk through what it is we’re going to be doing here. I'm sure you've already gotten the whole spiel, but it might be helpful to hear it from my perspective. Get a feel for how I do things.”

You paused like you were waiting for a response so he nodded along. “Sure, sounds great.” He already knew what the program was. He already knew he didn’t need it. This was a waste of time.

“Mostly, I’m just here to help you as an alpha get back to feeling like your most grounded, best self. Stability and comfort are mainly what I’m here to provide. Listening and guidance too, if that’s what you want. This is fully customizable, very collaborative. I’m not a therapist, but I do have my masters in behavioral psychology. And I’ve been doing this for a while now. So whatever you throw at me, I can handle it. Basically, this arrangement can look like whatever the two of us want it to look like. The biggest requirement, on both sides, is honesty.”

He leaned forward. This was the in he’d been waiting for. “I really appreciate that. And I do want to be completely honest with you. I don’t want to waste your time. The truth is, this is unnecessary. I think people expect me not to adjust well, so they’re treating me like I’m not. But really, I’m fine. I’m doing fine. And I just don’t think I’m going to get much from this.” 

You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just looked at him curiously with your lips pursed. At one point, your eyes flicked down to where his hand was resting on his knee. Could you see the way it shook? His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d come out of the ice. He straightened it out so it laid flat on the denim of his jeans, willing it to be still. That didn’t mean anything.

Finally, your eyes left him as you turned to your messenger bag, pulling out a thin file. “Do you mind,” you asked, “if we talk about some of the concerns your team has for you?”

Steve’s jaw ticked. Not for. About. Fury had already done this. “I know their concerns. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

You shrugged casually, like it didn’t much matter to you either way. “I think it could be instructive to what we’re trying to do here.”

“Fine,” he ground out, but you didn’t react to his tone. You just opened the file. Before you had a chance to say anything, he leaned forward and spat out, “Listen, I know what’s in there. They think I don’t listen to anyone. That I’m a bad leader. That my plans are too risky. That I can’t keep anyone safe. Did I get everything?”

You bobbed your head a little, your expression impassive, your voice soft. “Not exactly. They did say that you refuse to listen to people. But they never said anything about you being a bad leader. Or not keeping them safe. They said the thing you’re most likely to risk on these missions is yourself. They’re worried about you.” He couldn’t hold in his scoff and you paused to look him in the eye. “Do you really jump out of planes without a parachute?”

He felt his eyes go a little wide like he’d been caught, doing what exactly, he wasn’t quite sure. He shook his head. “No, that’s not– You know what’s in my veins. If I were a normal man, sure, that’d be suicidal. But I have more strength, better reflexes, I heal faster. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine.”

Your brow furrowed as you leaned forward too. “But, you still get injured, don’t you? Even if it doesn’t last as long. You still feel all that pain. Steve,” and the way you said his name, for the first time, different somehow than the way any omega had ever said it before, he felt it like a knife to the heart, “why would you want to put yourself through feeling all that if you didn’t have to?”

He was up off the couch before he even realized it. The room was suddenly smaller than it’d been a minute ago. His mind was racing and he didn’t know why or how to make it stop.

“Captain Rogers.” You were standing right in front of him, holding your hands up at your chest, your palms out. “I’m sorry Captain, I didn’t mean to push. Are you alright?” All he could do for the moment was blink at you. “Hey, how ‘bout you take a deep breath with me, ok? A slow breath in through your nose.” 

He followed your lead and took a deep breath in. And, oh. He was struck by the scent of you. Lilacs and oranges. You smelled like spring.

“And out through your mouth,” you said quietly and he realized he’d been holding his breath. He exhaled slowly and you smiled. “Do you want to take a break?” you asked softly. “I have a few more questions, but I don’t need to ask them right now.”

He shook himself out of whatever daze he’d been in. “No,” he said, standing up straighter. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” 

He sat back down on the couch, but you hadn’t moved yet. “Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. I’m fine. Let’s go.” It was only at the look on your face, that he realized how short he’d been. He took a breath. “Sorry,” he said, forcing some calm into his tone. “I’d like to keep going.”

“Okay,” you nodded and finally sat back down across from him. You opened your folder again. “You were a little… vague in your intake questionnaire. So, if you're able, I’d appreciate it if you could just tell me a little about what you’ve been going through, how you’ve been feeling.”

He fidgeted a little in his seat and he saw you clock it. He stilled himself, then said, with as casual an air as he could muster, “If I was vague, it’s only because there really isn’t much to report. I’ve been fine.” He was using that word too much. He knew it. But he didn’t know how else to say it.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “It’s just, on paper? You’ve been through a lot in what must feel like a very short amount of time. And that’s just the widely reported stuff. What’s in the history books and on the news. It would be understandable if you were struggling. Anyone would be.”

“Well, I’m not anyone, am I?” he snapped. 

“No, you’re not,” you said slowly, calmly, and he hated how unflappable you were. “You’re a hero.” He just barely stopped his lip from curling up into a snarl at that. He’d had enough. “But–”

“Listen, I just need to get back in the field, okay? I just need another mission. That’s all I need. We don’t have to– None of this will be necessary if I can just get back out there. I understand that you’re a professional and you’ll want to seem thorough, so we can wait a few days. But I’m fine and that’s what I need you to tell Fury. If the team doesn’t want to work with me right now, that’s– that’s okay. I’ll do solo missions. Whatever they want. I just need to get back out there.” He was pleading by the end of it. He could hear it in his voice. But this was important. He needed you to understand.

You just sat there for a moment, staring at him, your brow furrowed. “I–” you started. “I think there may have been a misunderstanding, Captain Rogers.”

“Steve,” he corrected, “please.”

“Steve, I–” you paused, your lips pursed. “I’m sorry, whether or not you eventually get back on the team, that doesn’t have anything to do with me. I don’t work for SHIELD. I can’t make that decision.”

“What? No. Yes, you do. You can tell Fury that I’m fit for duty.”

“Steve. I work for a support omega agency. I’ve helped a few agents before, but I don’t know Commander Fury. I’m not here to report back to anyone. I’m just here to help you.”

All he could do was shake his head. No, this wasn’t right. There had to be a way to get back to work. You had to be the key.

“I’ve been contracted for a three month period, with the option to extend as needed. I thought this had all been explained to you. I–” You looked at him, pained, like you were willing him to understand 

  ‘Three months to start’ had been said to him at some point in this whole process, but he hadn’t thought that’d been serious. He’d been sure there was a way around it. Sure that you were the way.

He wouldn’t be able to survive three months. That he was sure of. Not without something to do. Not without a purpose. Not without something to fight. The room was getting smaller again. Closing in on him. All of that time stretching out ahead of him, without any purpose, without any point to him. It was all closing in on him.

He tried to take a deep breath, but it didn’t do any good. It didn’t do anything. Didn’t get him any air. There wasn’t any air. He was pinned down. Under all the water. Under all that ice. He was so cold and he couldn’t breathe.

“Steve!”

He was distantly aware of someone calling his name, but no one would be able to get to him. He was too far under. There was too much ice. He’d done too much.

“Steve. Hey, Steve! I’m here with you. I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.”

No, that couldn’t be right. He was alone. All alone and–

Lilacs. How was he smelling lilacs? And oranges. Fresh and bright. Spring.

He blinked his eyes open. He didn’t know when he’d shut them. He was huddled on the floor in front of the couch. In the living room. You were kneeling in front of him, your hands held out in front of you, not making contact, but one of your wrists was extended. Right under his nose. 

When he made eye contact with you, you exhaled, like maybe you’d been holding your breath. “Hi,” you said, relieved. “You back with me?”

All he could do was blink at you, at first. Then he looked around. The blank walls. The prefab furniture. The apartment. He hated this place. He looked back at you. “Yeah.” It came out in a croak. “I– Yeah.”

“Is it alright if I touch you?” you asked, inching closer. “You can say no.”

He shook his head without even thinking. “Please.”

As you reached out to touch him, hug him, maybe, he collapsed into you. You let out a little “oof” but didn’t pull away. You just wrapped your arms around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched, really touched, like this. Not just in passing. Not in battle. Before the ice. Decades. Everything had been decades. 

His eyes were wet and he was so so tired. He felt wrenched open. Emptied out like there was nothing left. He exhaled in your arms and with it came a whisper, completely out of his control. “I just want to go home.”

You didn't say anything, but your grip on him tightened.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @thiquefunlover63 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stellar-solar-flare @alexakeyloveloki @kmc1989 @awkwardgiraffe726 @watermelontidewater

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ my hero ~ hawks

sum: after losing the one thing that made him the hero he was, he struggles, but it turns out he has his very own hero.

pairing: keigo takami/hawks x partner! reader (g/n)

content: manga/epilogue spoilers for anime only watchers/those not caught up on the manga. hints of depression. no other warnings to place here.

a/n: while i know that keigo accepts the loss of fierce wings, part of me thinks he would have had a hard time adjusting. here’s my overview take on just that. as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated.

word count: 800

links: bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

he’d never felt less of a man than he did right now. the only thing that made him who he was was gone. it didn’t matter how many times others tried to reason with him, to tell him he’s still the same person as before, the reality was that he’d never be who he was before.

all he could hear was the underlying lies. he would never be the same; he knew that, and they knew that as well. their words meant nothing to him, nothing at all.

walking the streets while adjusting to his new life, he could still feel it deep within his bones. that tingling and the need to help whenever the cries of those in need of a hero rung out. yet he was helpless. what kind of hero could he be if he didn’t have his wings?

he spent many days in bed, not wanting to get up despite the protests of people around him and his own mind. choosing to shut himself away until he didn’t know what day it was. he knew he shouldn’t, but what else could he do? everything felt like it was closing in and suffocating him from the inside out.

he was his own worst enemy at times.

“keigo, i know you don’t want to talk at the moment, but when you want to, I’m here”. the way you sounded so defeated broke him more than he already was. you didn’t deserve to go through being shut out when all you were trying to do was help. to be there for him and offer your support despite not understanding what he was going through.

though, part of you should. after all, you were quirkless. one of the small minority who was born without a quirk, but you never let that stop you from anything you ever did. you proved yourself time again and even managed to rise up through the ranks as one of the few pro heroes who rightfully earned their spot without the aid of your abilities.

that’s what made him fall in love and treasure every moment he had with you. you were able to defy the odds and be where you were right now, a formidable pro. maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on himself and take a page from your book.

slowly, taking each day as it came, that’s when you started to see a change. the old keigo who you fell in love with began to show through the small details of things. the touches, the words, the kisses. he was gaining more confidence and accepting that he was going to be quirkless for the rest of his life.

even when eri tried and failed to help with her quirk. he accepted it. accepted it purely because you were his own hero, the one who showed him that a quirk wasn’t what made him who he was. sure, it helped him whenever he needed to save others; his fierce wings were a force to be reckoned with.

of course you missed the way he’d use a few feathers to deliver gifts and notes to you, goofily smiling at the look on your face before you smiled back at him. the way his wings would wrap around you at night and keep you safe, bringing you closer to the man who you loved with your very soul and more.

right now, though, you stood in front of a door in the office you’d been called to, hand resting on the handle before pushing it down. the small click of the door latch unlocking sounded just before you pushed the door, shutting it behind you. looking up, you smiled softly before stepping forward.

there he stood, looking out at the street, the man who you loved more than anything in the world.

the former number two pro known as the wing hero: hawks. the man who was now the new president of the hero public safety commission. the man who, quirkless or not, you’d support no matter what he did.

approaching the desk, you stepped around and continued until you reached his side. humming softly as he turned, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you in for a hug, placing a gentle kiss on your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

you knew what he was trying to say; sometimes his actions spoke louder than words ever could. pulling back from him slightly, you unwrapped your arms and placed your hands on his face, cupping as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. proud smile showing as you looked at him, taking in the battle scars that were dotted in his features.

“i'm proud of you and i love you too, keigo. i always will”.

“thank you, my hero, and ditto”.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[midnightdevotion]

Not Real (1)

Hi Guys!! I mentioned writing this fic back in august??? anyways sorry for taking so long. I'm trying to have more balance with my creative hobbies and do them more regularly.

Description: Hangman, ever elusive and avoiding commitment finally finds the one. Except she doesn't think love is real anymore. Part 1

Warnings: Depression, Reader loses themselves, Slow burn, and I do use y/n so sue me ig

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female Reader

Readers POV

It's an uncharacteristically rainy day in Southern California. You heave a small sigh at the ever lasting grey clouds. To be completely honest, your life has felt like an everlasting grey cloud recently.

Heart broken one too many times, seemed to take the color out of life. You were someone who looked at fuzzy bumble bee's and grinned. Who felt the wind blow against her skin and let it relax any tension.

Now it was like nothing but grey existed in your mind. You didn't know how to escape the hallow shell you have turned into. It felt like the person you were is so far gone and yet you still vividly remember every thing. Every thing you loved about the version of you, you just can't seem to reach any more.

The easy laughter no longer came, the yellow sunshine your personality was described as now ashes and dull. The worst part of all of it was nobody noticed.

Nobody put together how your entire world was ripped away and nobody saw how it changed you. How you could barely get through the day, crawling back into bed as soon as you get home.

These endless grey days lasted months. A good thing would happen, you got a raise, and cried to yourself later that night. It was good, why didn't anything feel good, why didn't you feel like enough anymore.

------

You could feel the change, not sure when it happened but it felt like it was so slow and then all at once. One day you couldn't imagine being happy ever again, and suddenly, one day you had your spark back.

You'd never wish on your worst enemy the 8 months you had just lived through, the thoughts that haunted you now just painful memories you can push to the side and leave behind.

You found friends you genuinely feel happy to know. Who have your back in every scenario. It started with meeting Phoenix, or rather Natasha. You first met Natasha after forcing yourself to go to the gym regularly. Hoping the endorphins that release from exercise would help your depression.

In ways they did, like the butterfly effect. You went to the gym, every day for a week and Natasha noticed. She noticed the empty eyes, and came up to you one afternoon. She introduced herself and asked if you wanted to be friends, In her exact words

"I'm sorry if this sounds weird but I work with all dudes and I genuinely need someone to talk to that doesn't rage testosterone, soooo brunch Sunday?"

And it sparked a real laugh out of you, a sound that use to be so common to you now unfamiliar to your own ears.

It's been six months since then, you and Phoenix have grow very close, She has introduces you to a few of her coworkers 'the safe few' she has dubbed them.

It was a usual Thursday night for you when you get a call from her, asking you to come to the hard deck. Which is unusual for her, she usually liked to keep her aviator life separate from her friendship with you.

It didn't bother you, her reasoning of pilots are assholes and your aversion to getting hurt again made it pretty straight forward to take her word for it.

So when you pulled up to the parking lot of the infamous bar she frequents with her navy friends. It feels a little like going into the lions den.

You roll you shoulders and sigh. An old version of you tickling the back of your mind that this is what you should be doing when you're young and single. Not moping because your heart got shattered beyond repair. Or so you believed anyways.

The loud ambiance of the bar was startling slightly, for a Thursday night the bar is packed. A sea of never ending khaki it takes you a few minutes to find your friend.

"y/n!" Rooster calls, one of the few 'safe friends' you have met. He has always been nice to you, and in fact regularly joins your girls nights.

"Hi rooster" you grin at the mustached golden retriever. Giving him a side hug, trying not to feel intimidated by the eyes on you. "nobody told me khaki was the move tonight" you laughed

Rooster shook his head grinning. "I know, it's bad isn't it" and okay it definitely isn't the look for some, but you will definitely attest that rooster and every in this area seems to pull them off well.

"oof" a grunt leaves your lips as you are suddenly hugged from the side, a slightly taller brunette almost taking you down with her on impact.

"Nat what on earth" you laugh.

"I-II knew you would c-come!" She slurred her words and her eyes looked at you unfocused. You furrow your brow and help balance her.

"uh phoenix why did you ask me to come? do you need a ride home?" there was a small part of you that was hoping she would say yes and you could leave the loud crowd, especially feeling like a sore thumb being one of the very few people in denim shorts and a tank top.

"No- No, si-silly. Hangman here said I didn't have any friends, so I bet him I did and that you would come here and prove it." you laughed because Natasha was always betting on things, especially when she gets tipsy. "he owes me fifty bucks now" she grins

"HANGMAN!!" you wince as she shouts in your left ear. You hear a slow drawl that sounds like he's somewhere from the south in reply.

"Yea yea Phe, I will get you cash tomorrow" You turn your head and notice the tall blonde man leaning against the wall. Clearly watching this whole interaction. He gives you a wide grin, one you can tell right away means he gets what he wants and has no problem breaking hearts.

"what I can't figure out is why phoenix has been hiding you all this time" his eyebrow raises when he notice you grimace, his clear attempt to be charming not impressing you.

"probably cause pilots are assholes" is your albeit maybe a little to monotoned reply. It's not that you wanted to be mean. You just had to shut down any attempt at flirting. You don't think any version of your heart could ever love again.

What you didn't expect was for him to cock his head a small smile playing on his lips.

"well Phoenix has always been smart that way" not offended that you basically called him and half the people in this bar an asshole. "I'm Jake though, or as you heard earlier, hangman"

You just nod, finally getting introductions to the rest of the group. Excluding bob and rooster, the only other pilots you had been introduced too.

Despite only being called upon to win fifty dollars (which phoenix is buying brunch for on Sunday) You found yourself enjoying the company and getting to know the people Phoenix spent most of her time with. Finally putting names to faces she has definitely complained about.

At a certain point rooster goes up to the piano, something you had heard he does before coming tonight. You exited the bar for a few minutes to breathe. Thinking about the past and how the old you would be relishing in the socialization, singing along with rooster and the others, no worried and unbroken.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you startle looking to the left and seeing hangman leaning against the wall to the bar.

"Trust me you don't want to spend a penny on those" you laugh, but it feels a little hallow.

"why not, I already spent fifty bucks to prove you existed" that laugh comes a little easier.

"why'd you do that by the way?" you question. he had to have known you were real.

"honestly because phoenix talks about you a lot, and rooster and bob started mentioning you and I was curious"

"curiosity cost the cat fifty dollars apparently" you throw a grin at him, walking out to the sand kicking your sandals to the side to feel the coldness of the sand touch your skin. You weren't surprised when he followed, you kind of expected it.

"it sure did... but I have a gut feeling it was the best money I've every spent" It makes something old and dead flutter inside you, and it scares the shit out of you.

"I don't know you ever spend fifty bucks on pizza when it's just you? cause that's some pretty good self care to me" you can't tell how he takes your evasion of his comment.

"that's pretty good too, but my gut feelings are usually right." in the past maybe heat would've rushed to your cheeks at his comment. Now though, fear rushed to your heart. You turned to look at him. No response on the tip of your tongue, and you were scared how awkward this interaction was going to get.

"well goodnight Darling, hope I see you again soon" and he smiled at you, then turned and walked to his truck. You watched as he pulled out of the parking lot, until his taillights faded. You headed back into the bar to say your goodbyes.

Later that night as you crawled into bed, mind blazing over everything that happened unexpectedly and knowing you'll be in for a tired tomorrow.

You couldn't get the thought of a certain blue eyed pilot out of you mind.

----

Jakes POV

He'd been hearing stories about you for months, Funny, sarcastic, kind, caring, every thing you could imagine in form of stories for months. At first he thought nothing of it, Phoenix having a girl friend is probably good when she deals with him everyday.

Then Bob started talking about you and funny stories with you and Phoenix. Then Rooster added into the group. It was safe to say Jake was feeling severe FOMO.

He had a plan. Get phoenix tipsy and she's pretty suggestible to anything, especially betting. So yes he planned on getting you to the bar, shamelessly flirting with Phoenix's friend and annoying Natasha the next day.

The universe had other plans, because when Jake laid eyes on you, it was like a spotlight was shining on you, he couldn't see anyone else. The bitter rage he felt at roosters hand on your side when you gave him a sheepish hug, burned hot.

So when he hit you with a flirty one liner, and you retorted, usually he wouldn't have given up. He saw it though, in your eyes, the cold dark fear. He became curious, what happened to make you so guarded, and why did he want to solve that so badly?

He sat in that bar and watched you laugh and joke, the smile never really reached your eyes though.

So Jake went home that night, focused on a new goal.

He wants to make you smile-- really smile.

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Ideas to feed the kiddos before I disappear to cry (Yandere NightClub)

I live in a state of depression so deep that a YouTube short is the only reason I've popped back in to bless you with a concept. I hope to finish my Greek mythology oneshot but we'll see.

Also, ya'll loneliness is scary so stay safe and know that cheese cares how you're doing. That's right I'm actively promoting a parasocial relationship between me and my readers (jokes (unless-))

Genders not final okay so don't be shy to ask for another gender than the one I use

Imagine for me (this can apply for any of my fandoms as well):

You my cute little MC are a bartender at one of the sketchiest clubs. Either you are a complete airhead, no one else would hire you (criminal record), or you getting that big bag (your boss spoils you).

Because of this you have seen the poisonous underbelly of the city you live in because this club only seems to attract the worst people (yanderes). Under the influence of alcohol these people tell you all their deepest darkest secrets (you need therapy more than ever). Gods forbid you even think about being nice to them or giving them advice. Kidnapping didn't go well. Maybe you should go on a date (like a normal person). Or you could just drug them (that was sarcasm on your part).

Now you've got repeat yandere clientele asking you to help them with their darlings believing you to be some expert in the field (you'll say anything for the money or you just stupid stupid).

Some of these people might just be looking for a way to kidna-court you. These questions about your exact height and weight are very invasive.

Beware to these clients because your boss and coworkers won't let these "customers" have you that easily (all are trained killers).

Rich flirty childish boss who wants to give you the world just stop calling him "kid" he's/she's/they're five years older than you (bad case of the baby face). Wants to wrap you in his/her/their fluffy pink coat and take you home (to his/her/their cozy luxury condo). Honestly kinda want to either write an absolute boss babe or twink if I'm making an oc of this person.

Fellow bartender who is the most normal of the bunch. Pretty tall and bulky but a total sweetheart who gives you the best advice (keeps people from giving you spiked drinks). Constantly offers you rides home; they can't have you walking by yourself people want to snatch you up (them too). Probably the most normal to get into a relationship with and won't do too much against your will (unless you get hurt). Himbo vibes (genderless)

Bouncer of the club is intimidating and bulky and also very shy. Wants desperately to talk to you and tell you how he/she/ they feel but oops they just put the fear of a thousand gods into you. Thinks you're absolutely precious and wants nothing more than to take you away from all this (wants a cozy home with as many animals as possible (you'll have to stop this person from adopting all the animals in the city))

Stripper/consort who is very down to earth and flirtatious at the same time. They are a whore but know when to tone it down (consent is sexy). They get all touchy and apologize claiming it's just second nature to them. Always offers a free lap dance or something else if you're up for it ;).

And anyone else you can think of please don't be afraid to ask.

[toxycodone]

Oh my godddd. Laios would be so good at helping someone lay eggs 😭 he’d be so encouraging and his voice is so comforting. I’m getting like. Soft horny over this

"It's okay...I got you."

Laios's voice is oddly calm despite the situation at hand, but much appreciated. Another sharp pain tears through your abdomen, causing you to yelp, burying your face into the tallman's shoulder. His presence behind you keeps you grounded in reality. You're more than thankful he's here with you. You're unsure you could do this without assistance.

Laios frowns when he hears your sounds of discomfort. A gentle kiss is placed to your temple, before his large hands start to press against your stomach. He's feeling for the buldge lodged in there, searching with care for where the egg may lie inside you. When he finally starts to prod against the outline, the blonde smiles.

"Found it." He hums. His warm breath fans against your skin. You try to focus on that feeling, along with the callouses on his hands, to distract yourself from the pain. He starts to massage the area, coaxing the egg from within you. The feeling makes you grit your teeth--but you do feel it start to move.

"Good, good. You're doing great." Laios encourages you, a soft smile on his face. He raises your hips, then spreads your legs out further. One hand trails down your thigh, now massaging the fat of that area as he trails closer and closer to your groin.

"Laios..." You choke. The tears that threaten to spill from your eyes make it hard to see due to your rapid blinking keeping them at bay. "What are you...?"

"Shh, it's okay." He kisses your cheek now. You can feel the egg pressing through the canal of your slit. A little more pushing will do the trick, but from the object's size, you know it won't be easy. The beginning was barely the worst part.

The blonde uses one hand to rub the upper part of your groin as the other dives between your folds. He gathers a little lubrication, then uses his fingers to rub circles into your clit. The sensation makes you jump. All the blood rushing in between your legs has seemed to make you hypersensive--which explains why this birthing process has been so hellish.

"That feels better, right? Just a little more and you'll be done." The callouses on his fingerpad add the most delicious sense of texture as he continues to pleasure you. The pain is still there, but it steadily becomes a more bearable ache as you continue to get more aroused. You lean back against Laios, now trying to relax as you let out a soft moan.

"That's it. Just like that. You're doing fantastic." His voice is husky, lips lingering against your skin with each word. "You look so beautiful like this..." Laios lets out a shaky moan as he feels the egg move a bit, but he's quick to not let himself get lost in his own arousal. You need him right now.

"You're almost there. I'll keep making you feel good, so just relax." Another wave of pain is depressed by him stroking the underside of your clit, trying to pay attention to the sensitive nub poking from under the hood. "You can do that for me, yeah?"

Your legs are wobbly, body hot from a mix of lustful fever and what you can only think of as birthing hormones, but you manage to steady yourself. You breathe in through your nose, then let your breath harshly blow past your lips.

"Yeah. I-I can--" You're cut off by another cramp. Laios quickly picks up his pace to aid in it subsiding.

"You're so good for me. I'm gonna make sure you don't regret this."

[thecheshireprincess]

Let Me

Shuntaro Chishiya x GN!Reader (No pronouns mentioned)

Summary: Your best friend wants to help you carry the struggles you've had since the accident in Shibuya

Content Warning: Reader is in a little bit of a depressive episode, nothing that I think would be terribly triggering. Suggestive towards the end; making out, straddling/dry humping, suggestive words. Probably curse words, I have no chill. Mostly just another fluff bomb.

A/N: This story can be read as a standalone, but is technically written as a post-Borderland part two to Bad Day 💕✨️ I hope you enjoy 😉

Life had been challenging for you since the incident in Shibuya.

Finding yourself reflecting on that day for what must be the millionth time since it happened, you roll onto your back and sigh in frustration. You had just settled into a booth at your favorite diner with Chishiya after spending the afternoon with the Mona Lisa, the man having shared a piece of himself with you that you never expected to have. Your friend had allowed you to lay your head against his shoulder and soak in the tranquility of the museum, turning your bad day around in an instant. In a way only he could. That is until you saw the colorful fireworks dance across the daytime sky outside the window, unknowingly changing everything you'd ever known. It really must have been your worst day ever, right? With a bat of your eyelashes, you were somehow awake again in the hospital, crying out for your friend and demanding every passing nurse and doctor to allow you see him.

When they finally caved and wheeled you reluctantly to his room, your tired eyes lighting up upon meeting his chestnut ones; you felt like something had shifted in your relationship. Like it was somehow significantly deeper than you remembered it being before, even after the Mona Lisa. You just know that there was something more that happened to you between the fireworks and waking up in the hospital - you just couldn't bring yourself to confide in anyone about it. Especially Chishiya. What if he they thought you were crazy?

Even two months after being released from the hospital with nothing more than a handful of scars and some colorful bruising, your usual routine was still evading you. The siren song of your warm, comforting bed frequently dominated the need to get up and function as a productive member of society. Things had gotten so bad of late that you'd considered dropping out of medical school to stay cocooned all day and succumb to the suffocating tendrils of dark thoughts in your mind. It was the strangest thing feeling like you were missing a major part of your memory like this, despite doctors insisting your heart had stopped for only one minute. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were somehow away from this life for much much longer than that.

You drove yourself to the brink of insanity every day trying to untangle the messy strings tangled up in your mind. Not only did you feel like you were missing memories, but you also felt different after the meteor; changed in a major way. It went beyond just being a little more reclusive - like you wanted to be and do so much more with your life. To be honest, it was overwhelming. It felt easier to lie in bed and hide from the world than attempt to flip your life completely upside down. And so, that's exactly what you were doing.

Only furthering your suspicions, your best friend has been a completely different person since the accident. More attentive. Calling and texting multiple times a day, things you usually had to initiate with him. Bringing you your homework, sitting and studying with you to make sure you didn't fall behind in school. At this point, Chishiya was the only reason you hadn't fallen out of society completely at this point.

And now? Here he was sitting outside the closed door to your bedroom, trying to coax you out like a cat stuck in a tree. You were having yet another bad day, of which there were more and more with fewer good days in between to balance them out. It isn't really that anything bad had happened to you necessarily, it's just that you can't seem to push this heavy weight off your chest or lift the haze of your clouded mind. Would you drive yourself mad before ever figuring out what really happened to you that day?

"You haven't eaten a real meal in days," his monotone voice cuts through your oppressive thoughts, "I brought you your favorite." Your ears perk up the tiniest bit at that - not only had Chishiya known what your favorite thing to eat was, he went out of his way (all the way across the city!) to get it and bring it to you. You hum simply in quiet acknowledgement, throat scratchy from going so long without using your voice or really having much to drink.

"I even got you a milkshake too," his tone lilts - teasing - knowing exactly how to speak directly to your hungry soul, "If you come out here you can have it." You do want the food. And you do want to see Chishiya. He is the only person you care about spending time with right now, the one thing that's keeping you tethered to the real world and away from your more cynical thoughts. But the way the cozy abyss of your bed has lovingly smothered you in its luxuriousness speaks louder; drowning out the call of delicious food and spending time with your friend. You shift a tiny bit, yanking the covers higher without a word. Your silent captor had won once again, leaving you powerless to fight back against it. Would you drown alone in the thoughts flooding your mind?

Chishiya waits a few moments, patient as a saint, listening through the polished wood for a response that he knows will never come. Not when you're like this. "If you won't come out to eat, then I'm coming in there," he warns, ready to get to the bottom of what's been going on with you lately - whether you like it or not. The brass doorknob turns, the door slowly gliding open to reveal the blonde, hair pulled messily into a low bun. If you weren't so caught up in the middle of a battle against your inner demons, his appearance would have taken your breath away. His warm, chestnut eyes rake over your form, covers pulled up over your nose to reveal only your eyes blinking back at him. The corners of his lips quirk up into his signature smirk at your state.

"Hiding from me?" He queries, smirk falling slightly as he carefully rests the bag of takeout on your nightstand next to the untouched glass of water he'd brought you last night. Any sign of ice or condensation long gone from the glass, Chishiya clicks his tongue as he looks at it then back to your much paler than usual face. Disappointed that you hadn't drank it, despite your quiet insistence that you would. Scared that you really might not be alright anymore. Unsure of how to help you if you wouldn't talk through your thoughts with him. He moves to sit at the edge of your bed facing you, his weight sinking into the plush mattress. He rests his right knee on the bed, his thigh pressing comfortingly against your tense body; the sudden contact causing you to jolt involuntarily. He doesn't move away. You allow your puffy, reddened eyes to search his, finding something surprising nestled there - genuine concern. You aren't going to win this; it's time to address the elephant in the room. It feels like an eternity passes as you sit in silent standoff with the man, delaying the inevitable. Chishiya is patient, though. He'll wait all day if he has to. You finally let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and shift a tiny bit closer to the warmth radiating off of him.

You clear your throat, trying to will the hoarseness away. "Not hiding from you . . . just the rest of the world," you force out the partial truth. His head tilts in that chracteristic way - telling you he's listening, urging you to continue. When you don't give him any more to work with, he speaks up instead, "You aren't okay, baby. We need to talk about this. Please."

You're not sure what does it, the unexpected nickname from the man or the outloud acknowledgement that you are not okay, but the tears flood your eyes fast. You blink your wettened eyelashes quickly, swallowing hard, trying in vain to shove down the emotions threatening to drown you once more. "I don't feel like myself anymore, Shiya," you croak in a shaky voice, "I feel like I've been missing a whole chunk of myself since I woke up in the hospital." Some stray tears fall against your face, dragging a sorrowful path down your cheeks, but you don't care anymore.

Chishiya's eyes widen slightly, so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren't so focused on his expression. He nods in recognition of your admission, boldly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks to chase away the tears. Your eyebrows furrow in momentary confusion, but you ultimately allow your head to lean into his shockingly soft touch; burning eyes fluttering shut. The blonde says nothing for a moment, soothingly stroking the sensitive skin of your face to allow you space to calm down. He's here.

"I feel that way too . . ." he murmurs after your tears have dried, trailing off into thought and then chuckling lightly, "Especially with you. LIke something changed between us but I don't remember how. I wish I could." You gasp, squeezing onto his wrist and sitting up so fast your head spins, sheets and blankets pooling around your waist.

"That's exactly what it feels like!" You cry, relief coursing through your veins for the first time in two months. "But it also feels like . . . the things that used to be important to me are so trivial now. Like we faced something so much bigger than ourselves previously and now I can't force myself to fit back into society's expectations of me." He smiles a little sadly at that with another nod, eyes shining with recognition. He feels that way too.

Chishiya gently pulls his wrist from your tight grasp, looping his arms around your waist instead and pulling you to sit in his lap. You'd expect your body to stiffen against the foreign contact, but find yourself melting instantly into him. Your mind and body suddenly more relaxed than you've felt since the day at the museum, loving the way your body molds against his in a perfect fit. The way that he looks up at you now with reverance, warm hands tenderly skimming your waist and ribcage, gives you the confidence to continue talking through the thoughts that had been plaguing you.

"I can't just walk around normally when I have to carry the weight of whatever this is," you say with a sigh, not having the right words to explain this feeling, but hoping that he understands anyway. "I've been trying to figure it out since it happened."

One of his hands moves from your waist to cradle your jaw between lean fingers, gently forcing your gaze to lock with his. Each one of you are suddenly searching for answers in the other's eyes, desperately seeking something. Apparently, Chishiya finds what he's looking for because he pulls your face dangerously closer to his, making your heart thunder against your ribcage from the proximity.

"Then let me help you carry it until we figure things out. Together," he whispers, his warm breath ghosting across your mouth as he studies you through lidded eyes. He hesitates, giving you a chance to back away; to put distance between if you want it. Breathlessly, you answer, afraid to shatter the sanctity of this moment you've been waiting for forever, "Shiya? What are we doing?"

"What do you want to be doing?" He asks, an easy grin brightening his face as he remains centimeters from you, gaze flickering down to your lips briefly. You know exactly what you'd like to be doing. Your eyes flutter shut as a wave of courage surges through your body, making the decision for you. Hesitantly at first, you press your lips against Chishiya's to test the waters. When he responds fervently, hands desperately trying to pull you closer to him, you tangle your fingers into his soft blonde hair and shift yourself to straddle him completely.

His plush lips move expertly against yours, the sensation feeling surprisingly comfortable, almost familiar to you. Like you'd spent hours of time mapping every inch of each other's mouths, though you were certain you would remember if you had. Chishiya cards his long fingers through your hair, cradling your head and pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. His tongue slides over your bottom lip, causing you to gasp; his tongue taking the opportunity to lick into your mouth. He tastes sweet like strawberries, and you nearly laugh at just how perfect this man is.

You feel dizzy, Chishiya's sweet taste compounding with his familiar clean scent overwhelming you as your kiss begins to take a desperate turn. Your hips involuntarily rock against his, the feeling of his hardened member making you whine against his lips. Suddenly, images of a different world come flooding back to you. One in which you were constantly in a fight for your life, held tightly and protected by the man currently underneath you. A world where this very man had already professed his love for you, finally taking you to bed with him and delivering you greater pleasure than you'd ever known.

"Shiya . . ." you murmur against his lips breathlessly, trying to find the words to describe the memories you had just seen like a movie of your own life. What you knew is undeniably what really happened while you were unconscious. He pulls back with a smile, eyes studying your face as his thumbs dance affectionately across your cheeks. The man in front of you nods emphatically, whispering, "I know, I saw it too. It's about time."

"We've done this before . . . done other things before," you murmur, pink dusting your cheeks as you think about the erotic flashes you'd seen. "I wish I could remember what it was like." He nods, peppering kisses down your jawline and neck, gently guiding you to lie down against the fluffy pillows. He leans over you, hands following the curve of your waist, coming to rest down on your hips as he plays with the hem of your shirt.

"Let me remind you?" He questions suggestively with a low growl, his tone shooting straight to your core and lighting your body on fire for him.

You do let him, several times.

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

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[beescake]

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

[darksigns-exe]

dors encore jusqu'au jour où tout ira bien* - noah sebastian x f!reader

*sleep on until the day when all is well

warnings: Swearing, discussions of mental health, depression, burnout and relationship issues

word count: 5.9k

note: This is a hefty one. It gets very angsty in certain parts, but if you know me, you know that I cannot bring myself to write a bad ending. Regardless of that, please think of yourself first and feel free to sit out on this one if you’re not in the headspace to dip into almost 6k of angst. Thank you to @deathblacksmoke and @circle-with-me for your feedback <3

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You’re not sure when it happened. 

It feels like one day everything was fine and the next he’s pushing his dinner across the plate as if it’s the most revolting thing he’s ever seen. 

You’ve never seen Noah like this. 

Sure, he gets quite sometimes. He has days when he locks himself behind the door of the studio and only emerges to eat and to take a bathroom break. 

This is different, though. 

When you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him smile or heard him laugh. You’re sure that it can’t have been long, surely you haven’t missed him tumbling into his hole. 

You don’t realise how bad it actually is until he starts to miss appointments, until you have to convince him to get out of bed just to have breakfast with you. He retreats back into the safety of your bedroom as soon as he’s finished with what you know to be too little food. You know that he’s only coming downstairs for your sake. And somehow that makes it worse. 

You sit in silence for a long while on that morning. You’ve watched him wither for too long already. And maybe that’s why you call Nick that morning, hoping that he can give you some kind of insight. Nick has all the answers, he always knows. 

He doesn’t this time. 

All he can offer is what you already know. 

Knowing Noah, he’ll be resistant to help until it's almost too late. Still, you make your way up the stairs towards your shared bedroom. They feel impossibly long today. It’s not like you’re going to break horrible news to him, but you know your boyfriend well enough to know that he’ll deny that anything is wrong. He’ll insist that everything is just fine, even when you both know that the exact opposite is the truth. 

The worst thing, you think, is that you don’t know why he feels like this. You’ve tried to ask him if he’s looking forward to the shows, to playing the new songs, but all you ever got in response was a half-hearted shrug. Watching him lose all passion for the thing he loved had broken a little piece inside of you.

You knock on the door before you crack it open just a little bit. 

“Noah?” you ask softly, not sure if he’s still awake or if sleep had already taken him over again.  

No reply. 

You force yourself through the crack in the door and close it as quietly as you can. He’s curled up on his side, turned away from the door. The sight breaks your heart even more. His body moves with slow breaths, and you’re still not sure if he’s awake or not. 

You sit on the edge of the bed behind him. You place your hand on his back, and he jumps at the touch, shrinking further away from you. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, love, but I’m here.” you can’t stop the tears from falling as you speak, “I don’t know how to help you, but we need to do something. I’m worried about you.”

He stays silent, but you can feel him draw in a deep breath under your palm. 

“Nick thinks that you should think about cancelling the shows.” 

You regret it as soon as you’ve said it. 

The look on his face when he finally turns to look at you hurts more than anything else. The anger that suddenly radiates from him makes scoot back from him instantly.

“And why the fuck would I do that? This is none of your business. I don’t go around telling you how to do your job, do I?” he seethes, “You have nothing to be worried about.”

“You’re obviously not well. I’m just trying to help.” you reply, feeling awfully helpless. 

Noah sits up, his back still turned to you. 

“If you think you know me so well, you should know that I’m fine. And I don’t need your help, either. Maybe you should find someone else to pity.” 

He’s out of the room before you can say another word. Deep down, you know that the anger isn’t real. You don’t know what has its claws in him, but you know that it’s bad. 

You don’t know where he disappears to after that. 

The studio is empty, and his keys have disappeared from the little chest of drawers by the door. A part of you wants to abandon him then and there. If he wants to soak in his misery, let him. But at the same time, you know that he needs you more than ever now, even if he isn’t ready to see that yet. 

You get a text from Jolly not long after that, letting you know that Noah showed up at his door looking all kinds of messed up. He lets you know that he’s out cold on the sofa for the time being, but that there needs to be a conversation before long. 

Jolly drops of a clearly miserable Noah the following morning. 

“You should shower before they get here.” Jolly says curtly as Noah disappears up the stairs once again. 

You both watch in silence as he disappears into the bathroom, and you let out a sigh when you hear the shower turn on. Without asking, you’re wrapped into a tight hug and finally the tears you’ve been holding back all day break free from you. 

“I talked to him.” he says, still holding you close, “I think he understood. The Nicks will be here in a bit, and we’ll talk about cancelling the shows.”

“Thank you.” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt. 

He gives you another squeeze before releasing you from the hug, “How are you doing? I know this has to be hard on you too.” 

You do feel a little bit bad for pouring your heart out to him like this, but it feels good to finally talk to someone besides yourself about any of this. 

Before long, your conversation is interrupted by the bathroom door opening again. You think Noah resembles a wet puppy more than he does a man, and it makes you feel impossibly bad for him. He stands at the top of the stairs, wrapped into one of the hoodies you know he likes, watching you intently. His hands wring together nervously, brow furrowed so deeply that you’re sure that it aches a little. You excuse yourself and swiftly come up to meet Noah. 

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, barely managing to meet your eyes, “I want to apologise.”

You follow him into your bedroom.

Noah sits down at the foot of your bed. You sit next to him, a hands' width away from. 

“What I said — that was not okay. I shouldn’t have said that.” he remains focused on his still fidgeting hands, “I’m really sorry.”

The way he’d looked at you a day earlier still lingered in your mind, and even though you know that he didn’t actually mean what he said, you can’t help but feel hurt. 

“I know you are. I know you didn’t mean what you said. It still hurt.” you reach for his hands, interlacing yours with one of his, “But we’ll be okay. I just need you to talk to me. I don’t know what to do if you don’t talk to me.” 

Noah squeezes your hand just a little bit, “I’m sorry that I let it get this bad.”

You pull him into your arms and Noah folds almost instantly. His head drops to your shoulder. The fabric of your shirt grows a little damp, and the silent sob that shakes through his body makes your chest ache. 

The other two arrive within the next thirty minutes, with Folio running a little late because he once again misjudged the time it would take him to get to your place. You stay in the living room while they talk in the kitchen, despite Noah’s protest. As much as you want to sit with him and hold his hand, you know that he has to do this on his own. In the end, the conclusion is that the shows need to be cancelled so that Noah will have some kind of chance to recuperate. You overhear his quiet admission that maybe he has piled a little bit too much onto his plate, that he’s tried to do too much in too little time. You know that all he’s ever wanted was to see this band do well, and when they finally got that, he’d done everything he needed to make sure that they’d stay up there. And now, in retrospect, you know that you should have tried to do something earlier. 

Hindsight is evil like that. 

The three of them don’t stay for dinner. Nick stays for a while longer, but you can tell that Noah longs for the house to be quiet again. And he practically falls into your lap as soon as you’ve sat down next to him again. Your fingers card through his hair, just how he likes it, while you sit in silence. He falls asleep a little while later. His brow remains furrowed, and you can easily tell that he’s clenching his jaw. You let Noah rest like this for a while, before you carefully slip out from under him. He stirs a little, blinking up at you with drowsy eyes. You kneel down next to him, placing your hand against his cheek. 

“I’m gonna order us something for dinner. How do you feel about Korean?” 

His expression only changes minimally. 

“We can get whatever you want.” Your thumb drifts across his cheek, “But you need to eat something, darling.”

You end up heating up a portion of frozen tomato soup for each of you. You’re sure that you see a faint trace of a smile on his face when you place the grilled cheese in front of him. 

For the first time in weeks, you think that things are looking up. 

Despite your best efforts, you watch him sink deeper and deeper into this hole. He’s distant, drifting along as days pass and turn into weeks, and you feel as if there’s nothing that you can do to make it better. You’ve managed to convince him to see Ash at least once a week, but even that had felt like an uphill battle. You feel awful for making him leave the house when he so evidently doesn’t want to do that. At the same time, it feels like the only thing you can do besides holding him close when it gets so bad that he wakes in the middle of the night, body shaking with bitter sobs that sear right through you. 

You know that you can’t force Noah to talk. But at the same time you wish that he’d at least divulge a little bit of what is going on in his head, maybe that way you could do more. 

You think that he’s coming up on the other side when you find him in his studio one afternoon. It isn’t until you actually step inside the room that you notice his face buried in his hands. In a split second, you find yourself kneeling at his side. At first, he doesn’t move, remains stuck as he is. 

“Talk to me, Noah. Please.” You plead, placing your hand on him as best as you can with this weird angle, “I want to help, but I don’t know what you need if you don’t talk to me.”

Reluctantly, he swivels the chair towards you, allowing him to somewhat drape himself over you. The silent tears break your heart even further. You’ve seen him cry before, more in recent weeks than ever before, but this feels different. He sinks down in front of you, utterly broken down. And all you can do is hold him close, whispering soothing things to him. You don’t know if your words even reach his conscious mind, but maybe they sink into him somewhere, maybe deep down they find a home in him. 

“It doesn’t work. I can’t do it any more.” He whispers after some time. 

Your fingers card through his hair, trying to get him to look at you, but Noah resists, keeping his face pressed against your shoulder. 

“What doesn’t work?” You ask softly. 

Instead of giving you an answer, he throws a hesitant look towards the still opened editing software on his monitor. 

“Oh darling.” You sigh, wrapping him even tighter into your embrace.

“This is all I have.” He says feebly, “This is who I am.”

“Noah.”

He pulls away just a little bit. The only way you can describe the look on his face is panicked. 

“What am I going to do if I can’t do the one thing I’m good at any more? I — I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He hiccups in between words, and it’s evident that he’s barrelling towards a panic attack, “I can’t lose this.”

He descends into rambling, chest heaving frantically, and for a second you feel so very helpless. It doesn’t matter what you say, your words won’t reach him, no amount of it’ll be okay can fix this, and it hurts so terribly. 

You place your hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at you as a last ditch effort. 

“Look at me, Noah.” You’re not sure where you find the energy to be this firm with him, “I need you to listen to me now, okay? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens. The guys aren’t going anywhere. The band isn’t going anywhere. Whatever happens, we’re all here. Your friends are here, and we love you so much. It doesn’t matter how much time you need. We’ll all be here when you’re ready. And even if that’s in a month or a year. And if it gets worse, and you never get there again, we’ll still be here. No one is going to leave. I won’t leave.” 

He’s quieted down to sniffles by then. His cheeks are so awfully red and splotchy, and you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look more exhausted before. 

“I know this is scary. And I know that we can make it through this, but I need you to talk to me. Watching you suffer through this in silence hurts a lot. I feel so helpless watching you fall apart like this.”

“I’m just so scared of losing all of this.” The admission comes so quietly, “What if we can’t keep up with the demand? What if we can’t —“

“What happened to doing whatever you want regardless of how it’ll sell?” You reach for his hand instead, “I know this sudden rise felt good, but this is not sustainable. You can’t spend months on the road, barely sleeping, just so you can keep up with all of this. This — the band, the fans, the music wouldn’t be here without you. All of you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly. 

“We’ll figure this out, Noah.” You press a kiss to the back of his still trembling hand, “I promise.”

He lets out a heavy breath, folding in on himself just a little bit. 

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with this.” He sighs. 

“I would do it over and over again. As often as I have to. And I know that you’d do the same for me.” 

Noah’s the one who brings up the idea of a vacation. He doesn’t make a direct suggestion, but you find a print out of an Airbnb in Oregon on the kitchen table one morning, and that’s good enough for you. You’re glad for any kind of active participation he’s willing to give. It’s been a difficult few weeks, but you think that he’s starting to feel a little better. On some days, you think that he’s almost back on top. He’s all smiles and sweet words, just to fall back down the next day. It’s a slow climb, but you’re moving forwards. 

Oregon will be nice. 

The drive is nice, albeit awfully long. Noah had admitted that he didn’t feel good enough to drive, and you’re glad that he’s able to see what he is and isn’t ready for. He seems to be quite comfortable navigating and selecting music, though. You don’t say anything when you hear him humming along to one of the songs, afraid that it’ll make him shrink back into his shell. Hearing his dumb little laugh at a street sign reading Weed gives you a little bit of hope. 

In the months since Noah had been at home, the intimate side of your relationship had been practically non-existent. For a while you’d felt as if you were living with a friend rather than your boyfriend of three years. Noah had never one to shy away from intimacy, your relationship had always been interlaced with soft touches and kisses. To watch him recoil at your touch had been incredibly hurtful, even when you knew - or rather hoped - that it was only a momentary thing. 

By the time your first week in Oregon is almost over, you dare to let your hands wander across his chest once again. It’s strangely foreign. You’d been so used to touching him like this, and now it almost feels as if you have relearn everything again. 

You’ve laid awake for the past hour. He looks much more relaxed now compared to some weeks earlier. The persistent furrow in his brow is slowly easing, and his sleep seems to be a little more restful. 

You do feel a little bad for disturbing his much-needed rest, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so beautiful in the warm morning light falling through the open sliver in the curtains. 

Your fingers trail across the streak of light that runs across his tummy and chest. The muscles twitch beneath your touch, but he doesn’t quite stir yet. You try to keep your touch as gentle as you can. Noah only wakes when your fingers brush against his hip. He stretches, letting you a soft noise as he does. There’s no protest when you trace up the length of his side. He’s still so sleepy, eyes all soft and warm, and you absolutely have to kiss him. 

He leans into your hand when you place it against his cheek. You draw him in for a kiss for what feels like the first time in months. It’s so gentle and chaste, barely there, but it seems to ignite something in Noah. A second later you find yourself on your back, with him hovering above you. One of your hands drifts along his back, before it settles at his waist, guiding him towards you. 

It’s over as quickly as it has started. 

“I can’t.” He says quietly, forehead once again dropped against your shoulder. 

“It’s okay, honey. We don’t have to.” You soothe, carefully threading your fingers into his hair, “We can just have a little cuddle instead.”

“I can’t.” He looks absolutely miserable when he detaches himself from you, “It doesn’t work. This is so fucking embarrassing.”

You realise then when he means. The agony and embarrassment on his face make you wish that you could just magic it all away. 

You want him back, not just for yourself but because you can see that this is torture for him too. 

“I’m sorry.” Noah adds quietly, “I’m — I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You don’t let go of him though and his efforts to leave are quickly squashed when he flops back down next to you. 

“Can you look at me for a moment, Noah?” He meets your eyes so hesitantly. 

He almost looks as if he’s just waiting to be told what a disappointment he is and somehow that hurts even more. 

“It’s okay. I’m not upset, and I don’t think less of you because of it. It’ll come back.” You say earnestly, hoping that he’ll take at least some of it to heart, “You’re still my boyfriend and I love you so much regardless of what you can or can’t do at the moment. I know you love me, you don’t have to sleep with me to show that.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes flitting across your face nervously, before he settles into the slightest hint of a content smile. 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

“You do. You deserve to be treated with love and respect, especially when you need it most.” 

“I just wish that I could give some of it back.”

“You have. And in time you will again. But right now, it’s my turn to make sure that you know that you’re safe and loved.” 

His expression changes into something you can’t quite place yet. Maybe it’s realisation, maybe it’s relief, or a mixture of both. 

Noah shifts a little closer to you, taking your hands into his, “Thank you. You’ve been so patient with me.”

“Of course. It’ll always be you and me, okay? We’ve gotten through so much, we’ll get through this, too. You’ve already come so far, and I’m so proud of you.”

At the end of your second week, you’d called the owners to extend your stay for another week. Being away from home like this was good for him and if he needed a little more time here then so be it. You could thankfully afford that luxury. 

You find him furiously scribbling in a notebook when you come back from the store one afternoon. You couldn’t remember if he’d brought one of his or if he’d borrowed yours, but whatever had sprung into his mind was important enough for him to need to get it onto paper immediately. You watch him from the doorway for a moment, not wanting to disturb him just yet. Instead, you bring the rest of your shopping into the house as quietly as you can. Noah comes to meet you at the door just as you bring in the last bag.

“You’re back quick.” he states somewhat blankly. 

“Didn’t want you to be alone for too long.” you reply, tossing the pack of toilet roll towards him, “Can you get one of the bags?” 

His face turns down into a frown, before he reaches for one of the bags and marches off into the depths of the house. 

As much as his overall mood has improved, it’s still so changeable. The smallest thing tips him off and you either end up at each other's throats or with you cradling him in your arms while he tries to quiet down his tears. You’re so tired of the fighting, though. You don’t mind doing this for him, in fact you do it gladly, but sometimes it exhausts you. The boys had been your greatest crutch, checking in with you once in a while to make sure you were also taking care of yourself, and you are more than grateful for it. All three of them had been so incredibly supportive in their own ways. As soon as you’d mentioned that you were heading up to Oregon for a bit, Folio had sent you link after link with recommendations of things to do and look at. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him that you were glad if you’d get Noah to sit outside with you in the evenings. You had eventually managed to convince Noah to go on little walks with you, just to get him out of the house and moving a little bit. In the end, he had been the one who had dragged you out of the door in the morning so that you could get to that one nice spot before the tourists got there. 

Noah is nowhere to be seen when you enter the kitchen. The bags are haphazardly placed in front of the counter, with no sight of him anywhere. 

Your call of his name remains unanswered. 

When you don’t see him on the bench out on the back porch, you make your way through the house, checking various rooms until you find him once again sequestered away in the bedroom. 

“Baby?” you ask softly, “Everything okay?” 

Noah makes a somewhat indignant sound then, and you swear that you see him rolling his eyes. 

“Noah.” 

“You can stop babying me. I’m not incapable of living without you.” he shoots back, “You don’t need to hound me all day. I’ll be fine.” 

“I just want to –” 

He scoffs, “I know you just want to help. And why do you think I need your help? I’m not – I don’t need you to pity me.” 

The first tears fall before your jaw has the chance to tremble. 

You try not to listen to the bitter words he hurls at you. They slowly chip away at your confidence. 

“I’m not some lost puppy you need to take care of.” 

Somehow, that’s your last straw. 

“You know what, Noah. I’m sorry for putting my life on the back burner for you. I’m sorry that I tried to help the man I love.” you turn on your heels, leaving the room before he can throw more vitriol your way. 

Your feet carry outside and down the pathway towards the river. Your chest feels so awfully tight. There’s only so much you can take, and hearing him discredit everything you’ve done for him feels as if he’s struck a sword straight through your chest. You collapse on the low bench in front of the firepit you haven’t had the chance to use yet. As much as you try to convince yourself that he doesn’t actually mean what he said, you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. The anger on his face seemed so real. Maybe you had gone a little overboard with your care. All you had wanted was for him to feel better, you had never meant to overstep. 

It feels so heartbreaking. 

Out of all the fights you’ve had recently, this one feels the most devastating. Although, you’re not even sure if you can call this a fight. 

You don’t know if you can come back from this. 

The longer you sit in silence, the worse the feeling gets. Somehow, you had hoped that he’d come out and find you, that he’d try to fix it. Instead, you’re out here on your own, shivering as the air gets colder and colder. You’re not sure how long you’re out here, but no matter how much you try, you can’t will yourself to head back inside. 

The call of your name barely reaches you, not even the orb of the torch you’d brought two days into your stay makes you look up. It’s only when his figure crouches in front of you, hands desperately smoothing along your shoulders and face. 

“You’re freezing.” his voice trembles when he speaks, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

His sweater is draped across your shoulders, his warmth sinks into you almost immediately. 

Noah’s hands curl around yours, holding them just a little bit too tightly. He’s shaking like a leaf. It’s too dark to make out the intricacies of his face, but the fear is obvious. 

“I– I couldn’t find you inside. I didn’t know where you’d gone.” the words rush from his mouth so quickly that he stumbles across a few of them, “I’m so sorry. Let’s get you inside. Please, my love.” 

When you don’t immediately move, his forehead drops to your knees, hands tucked under him so that he can press his lips to your palms. 

“I wish I could take it all back. I’m such an ass. Fuck, you do so much for me and I can’t even say thank you for it.” another kiss to your palms, “Please come inside with me. I don’t want you to get ill because of me.” 

Noah rises to his feet, slowly pulling you with him. 

His hand remains wrapped around yours, as if he’s scared that you’ll vanish again. Through the open sliding door, you can already smell what you think is a pasta bake. Nothing fancy, but he always manages to whip up something good and warming for you. 

He ushers you towards the table, making you sit down on one of the chairs. Within a moment, he places a somewhat cooled cup of tea in your hands. 

“I thought that you’d gone to the other bedroom and I – I feel so bad that I never checked. I just wanted to give you space after all of that and – and now this.” he sits on the chair next to you, hands writhing in his lap, “I don’t know how I can fix this. What I said – I keep fucking up. You’ve given up so much for me, and this is what I do in return. I can’t take it back. I said all of that, and I know that it was incredibly hurtful. But if there’s some way that you’ll forgive me – it doesn’t matter what you need from me – I’ll do it. But if you need me to –” he swallows back tears and maybe that’s when you realise how serious is about this, “If you need me to leave I will. I can be gone by tomorrow if you want that.” 

“Don’t leave.” your voice feels so rough, so shaky, “Please.” 

The tears that roll down his cheek feel so loud when then drop onto the hardwood below your feet. 

“I won’t.” his hands find yours once more, “We can fix this. I don’t want to feel like this any more, but – I need you. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.”

You look at your joined hands. You’ve always thought that they fit together so perfectly, two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle made exactly for each other. There’s no one else who fits you like he does. Sure, you could try and jam two pieces together, but it’ll never be right like this. 

“I told you that I’ll always be here, didn’t I?” you say, still looking at where his hands flex around yours, “I meant that. I don’t know if I could love anyone else.” 

His lips press together so tightly that the colour flees from them. 

“We’ve come too far to give up on this now, Noah. We’ll figure this out, but we need to be better – both of us.”

“I know.” he casts his eyes low, “When we’re back home I’m gonna get myself back into therapy. I promise you that I’ll get myself back on my feet.” 

You free one of your hands from his grasp, so that you can bring it up to his cheek, “We can make it through this. We’ll be alright.” 

Noah eyes you for a moment before he finally speaks up, “Can – can I kiss you?” 

Even if you wanted to, you can’t stop the smile from breaking onto your face, “Please.” 

He surges forward then, pressing his lips to yours so sweetly. He cradles your face in his hands, keeping you close to him until you’re both breathless. 

“I love you, but I think your pasta is about to burn.” you whisper after a few more blissful moments. 

Noah jumps up with a swear, and for the first time in months you can see his previous self break through this shell. 

There’s a tentative plan for the band to return to the stage in late January, giving you another two – almost three months – of this quiet life. Sometimes you think that Noah feels quite comfortable being just a boyfriend and not a trillion other things on top of it. Every day he rises a little easier, seems a little more secure in himself again. Slowly but surely the music returns into his life, and before long he’s pushing his notebook into your field of vision again. 

“Can you have a look at this? I don’t know how I feel about it.” he asks, slumping down next to you. 

You put down your phone and pick the book from his hands. You’ve always loved his boyish handwriting. Something tells you that this isn’t meant for Bad Omens or anyone else's eyes. It’s surprisingly confessional, a somewhat fictionalised account of the last few months that all in all wraps around a single steady thread – you. It’s not a hymn to your efforts, but rather an acknowledgement of everything you had given him and sacrificed because of him. 

Noah's hand wraps around yours. The crowd a few meters away from you roars as the screen changes once again. 

“You’ll be fine, honey.” you soothe, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Feels like I’m doing this for the first time.” 

It’s been almost a year, of course he’d be a little nervous. But you know that he’ll do his best, and that’s all everyone could ever ask for. 

“I know. I can’t be with you up there, but I’m right here. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”

He nods, more to reassure himself than to acknowledge what you said. 

“You’re almost up.” someone says from behind you.

Noah shakes himself out of his stasis. 

“Alright.” he says to himself, “Wish me luck?” 

“You don’t need luck.” you pull him in for a kiss, “I love you. Go do your thing.” 

“I love you.” 

He steals another kiss, before he pulls that damned ski mask over his head. Just a moment later he’s up the stairs and as soon as you hear their screams you know that the little bit of fear that still sat on his shoulder has melted away.

From your position you can watch the show quite comfortably. It takes Noah a moment to get back into the stage persona, but once they’re through the first song, it feels as if he had never stopped doing it. Seeing him back on his feet like this fills you with absolute joy. 

They’re nearing the end of the set when Noah actually addresses their somewhat forced break. 

“We’ve been away for a little bit. I’m sorry if that messed with your plans, but it was a long time coming. We’re all incredibly thankful for what you’ve made possible for us, and we’ve always tried to give all of that back. Maybe we – I’ve tried a little too hard. What I’m trying to say is that it’s thanks to all of your support that I could take this step back, and I’ll never forget that. But I also have to thank someone else.” he turns towards you, giving you that smile of his that makes you feel as if you’ve just fallen in love with him, “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.” 

Whatever he says after that is drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. Noah leads them into the last song of the set so effortlessly. 

The past months still linger with you, and they will for a while longer. In the end, it was worth every single tear. You’d fought tooth and nail for this – both of you had. And you’re so glad that you did it. 

As soon as the set is over, Noah comes barrelling down the stairs towards you. You’re wrapped into his arms. You return the embrace immediately, holding him to you as tightly as you can. For a long moment, both of you remain silent, content to just hold each other close. 

“Thank you, my love.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “For everything.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake

[redrose10]

Cat Cafe Owner Yoongi x Female Reader

Summary: With only a few dollars left to your name you weren’t sure how you were going to survive. Thankfully, Suga’s Cat Cafe came to the rescue offering you a job when you needed it most. Not only did it pay decently it also came with perks like unlimited free coffee and a cute, but grumpy cafe owner named Yoongi. At first you believed it was him that saved you at your worst, but as time went on you started to wonder…who rescued who?

Warnings: Mentions of depression, suicide, anxiety, lots of angst, injury, getting drunk, talking about consent and being taken advantage of in a sexual way, tiny bit of smut (maybe), will update more later

Word Count for Part 1: 5,712

Small change of plans because after thinking it over I’ve decided to split this into two parts. With everything going on with my parents and my job search and everything it would take me a while to be able to post the whole finished thing. So here is part 1 and I’ll be working on part 2 over the next week or two.

Hope everyone likes it! Let me know your thoughts! I may not always reply, but I do read all of them.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Nervously you fidgeted with your fingers as you stood off to the side trying to stay out of the way of the other staff members running around. Some guy at the front counter, his name tag said Namjoon, told you to enter into the small break room and the manger would be with you shortly.

Today was your first day on the job at Suga’s Cat Cafe. Your official title was Cat Enthusiast, but at the end of the day it was just a fancy way of saying customer service/cleaner of cat messes. It was by no means your dream job, but it paid decently as far as cafe jobs went and came with unlimited free coffee, both things you desperately needed as you were down to your last few dollars.

Life had been throwing nonstop punches lately. You were suddenly been let go from your dream job in the fashion industry and then a few days later you came home to find your fiancé cheating on you with one of your best friends. It left you hurt, and angry, but it was especially concerning that you were now also broke and homeless. Thankfully a different friend managed to help you find a tiny apartment, but bills were piling up and your first months rent was due soon and you were panicking. You were about to give up on life when you got the call that the job at the cafe was yours.

Finally after what felt like forever the door swung open and a man walked in. His light pink hair definitely stood out, but somehow looked almost natural on him. The cat shaped name tag pinned to his shirt read Jimin. “Sorry I’m late Y/N.”, he sighed., “Things are just crazy lately.”

You took the two tshirts and your own cat shaped name tag out of his hands along with a set of keys on a purple lanyard.

“The shirts are part of the uniform. You get two free, but we can order you more for a small cost if you’d like. Pants are your choice just make sure you look presentable and wear comfy shoes! Trust me! Since you’ll be working the closing shift you have keys to lock up the cafe. There is also a register key for emergencies. And this key opens up the supply closets. Please please please.”, he begged, “Please do not loose the keys. Yoongi will have my head if he has to have more made.”

You nodded, “Noted. Guard the keys with my life.” Jimin laughed giving you the first look at his heart warming smile.

“Come on! Get changed and then I’ll give you a quick a tour of the place.”, he said.

He left the room closing the door behind him giving you the chance to put on one of the tshirts in the bathroom and then place the rest of your belongings into one of the employee lockers.

When you exited the break room he was on the phone with someone talking about ordering a new set of mugs and something about Suga needing his fur thoroughly brushed.

“Yes I know. I will brush his fur with one hundred strokes and not one less.”, Jimin rolled his eyes, “Alright I have to go. I’m training the new girl.”

He started leading you down the hallway, “Sorry that was the owner. He’s supposed to be on vacation, but I swear he works harder when he’s not here than when he is.”

“He sounds tough to work for.”, you winced and suddenly your easy job taking care of cats wasn’t sounding so great after all.

“He’s really not.”, Jimin reassured you, “Yoongi’s just…he’s been through a lot, doesn’t really like people…prefers cats. It takes a while for him to trust others and open up to them, but once he does he is the sweetest sweetheart you’ll ever meet.“

He walked you through the long hallway opening random doors mostly leading to storage rooms or broom closets. “This is our meet and greet room.”, he said opening up the last door on the left, “If anyone is interested in adopting one of our cats and would like some alone time with them they can have a meeting with the cat back in here.”

Then he turned to the door on the right, “And this one leads up to Yoongi’s office/apartment so don’t go up there unless you absolutely need to…I mean like the place is on fire need to. Yoongi does not like others in his home.”

Then he walked you back up front to the small kitchen area. He pointed out the different cups and showed you how to work the machines, “Luckily most people are just here for the cats so they don’t really care much about the drinks.”, he chuckled, “The coffees are pretty basic. We’re not like a specialty coffee shop or anything. We have hot or iced. The coffee beans are just something Yoongi orders from Costco and we grind here. We have your basics like sugar, cream, whole milk, oat milk and we have different syrup flavors. Currently we have mocha, vanilla, caramel, and hazelnut and then we usually have a seasonal flavor like in the fall we have pumpkin spice and the winter we add peppermint to the rotation. There are also a few selections of hot tea as well as bottles of iced tea and water. All of the bakery is purchased already made from Jin’s Bakery a few blocks over.”, he exhaled, “So uh yeah it’s all pretty simple. You’ll pick it up in no time! Any questions?”

He made it seem so easy, but you were definitely feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Don’t worry Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Everyone always seems a little worried at first. We have a great team that will be ready to help any time. You’ll mostly be working with Jungkook…speaking of which.”, Jimin put his hands on his hips and sighed while looking around the room, “This kid. He’s lucky Yoongi has such a soft spot for him.” You had no idea who he was talking about until you followed his line of sight as he shook head head at a younger man walking through the door, large backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Kook! You’re late again!”, he shouted.

“Sorry sorry I’m so sorry.”, the man gasped running up to you both, “I got out of class late and then I missed the bus. I took the next one, but it broke down half way here and I had to run the rest of the way.”

“You know that expensive little box you carry around in your packet 24/7? Well you can use it to text other people besides women.”, Jimin said while side eyeing him.

“I know I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Jimin gave up after that and instead introduced you, “Y/N this is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N. You two are going to be working the closing shifts together.”

You smiled and nodded while he did the same.

“I need to go make a few calls so Jungkook will introduce you to all of the cats and show you where their food is and how that’s all handled since it’s about dinner time anyways.”, Jimin ordered before leaving you with a wave and walking into the office.

Jungkook was really nice, quite sweet, and very handsome. You gladly followed him around smiling as he introduced you to each one of the cats and told you a little about them. It was clear he loved his job.

“This one is named Princess because she’s the prettiest princess in the city. Her favorite treats are salmon flavored and she loves getting her fur brushed, but only with the purple brush. Don’t even think about using the green one. She will revolt.

And this one, his named is Minnie. He acts tough like he hates you, but deep down he’s the fluffiest little guy there is.

And here we have Koya. He likes going on long walks and having his belly rubbed while you read to him.

Bunny is the diva of the group. She knows what she wants and doesn’t care who she has to destroy to get it.

Hope is the cuddle bug. She will take any cuddles that she can get. She definitely has no sense of stranger danger…we’re working on it.

Winter Bear is a sassy pants…that’s… that’s all I have to say about him.

RJ is a grumpy old man, but don’t tell him that. He’ll get even grumpier and then he takes it out on Bunny and then they end up not speaking to each other and it’s just a whole ordeal.

And this one is Suga. He’s the only cat that isn’t up for adoption because he’s Yoongi’s pet cat so he pretty much runs the show.”

You cooed as you bent down to pet the black cat who was purring loudly against your hand.

“Wow.”, Jungkook laughed in surprise, “I worked here for like six months before he even let me touch him and I’m pretty sure he still wants to bite my hand off. He must really like you.”

You felt a sense of warmth fill you knowing that the cat tolerated you better than anyone else already. It was kind of like getting along with your coworker in a weird way.

Dinner time was like something you had never experienced before. Yoongi was apparently extremely particular about making sure that the cats were very well taken care of which you appreciated that he cared so much and that this wasn’t just a business to him, but at the same time you also hated that you were meticulously weighing out the exact recommended portion of a horrible smelling can of seafood delight for each cat except Princess who of course had a menu of her own. Then you were adding a couple drops of this vitamin and a few sprinkles of another. By the time you were done setting all of the bowls up it felt like you had just completed a science experiment.

The rest of your shift was spent cleaning and wiping and sweeping and cleaning some more. Who knew cats could be so messy so much of the time?

You took a few orders and made a few drinks with the help of Jungkook, but it seemed like he was happier doing the customer service portion anyways which you didn’t mind. You liked dealing with cats more than people to be honest.

Over a few weeks you started getting a routine down at the cafe. You got closer with the cats and also Jungkook. The two of you even put together a little goodbye party when Koya got adopted. Jimin checked in often and made sure you were acclimating well. You also met your other coworkers, Namjoon, Hobi, and Taehyung. They were all very friendly and welcoming. You really felt like things were starting to turn around and that you were finally going in the right direction after it seemed like everything had been falling apart for so long.

Until one dreary rainy night it didn’t seem like that any more. You had closed up the cafe and were just about home when you realized you had left your phone charging on the table in the break room. Part of you considered just leaving it there and getting it the next day, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to go all night without it. You also knew that Taehyung was a man of many pranks and you needed to make sure he didn’t get your phone into his possession. So reluctantly you turned around and made the walk back to the cafe.

Since it was so late and you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself, meaning you didn’t need a gaggle of cats screaming at you for their third dinner, you kept the light off and tiptoed as quietly as possible to the break room to retrieve your phone.

Once that mission was accomplished you quietly tiptoed back down the hallway to the front door. With your face buried in your social medias catching up on your missed notifications you weren’t aware of your surroundings until you walked headfirst into another person.

You jumped back in shock. The other person yelped in surprise since their own face was buried deep into a folder of paperwork that was now scattered everywhere as they were also unaware of your presence.

“I am so sorry.”, you apologized bending down to help clean up the papers.

“No no no just leave it please.”, he hissed at you, “Who are you and how did get in here?”, he questioned angrily as he scooped up the mess.

“Y/N, I uh I work here. I’m part of the closing shift.”

“Okay? And the cafe closed two hours ago. Why are you still here?”

You were starting to get a little scared, “I-I got home and realized I forgot my phone in the break room so I came back to get it.”

“And you didn’t think to call or text someone?”, he sneered.

“Well my uh my phone was here so I couldn’t.”, you mumbled trying to keep your cool.

“Ever heard of a pay phone?”

“It’s 2025…I don’t…I don’t even know if there are pay phones any more.”, you said. You could feel your anger rising at the rudeness of this guy when you noticed a black ball of fur rubbing against his legs, a loud purr rumbling from within Suga’s chest.

“Yoongi?”, you asked.

“Yeah….”, he replied running a hand through his already messy hair, “I’m sorry for snapping at you. Y/N was it?” You nodded and took his extended hand into a handshake.

“That was very unprofessional of me. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve just got a lot going on at the moment and you scared me quite a bit.”, he continued, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here this late at night.”

“It’s okay.”, you shook your head, “I shouldn’t have just entered back into the building after hours without notifying a manager or something.”

Awkwardly you stood there internally praying you were still going to be employed after this. Then you made an observation of the shirt he was wearing and decided to try and pull the conversation in your favor. “Oh you like Halsey?!”, you exclaimed, “Did you go to the concert a few months ago? I really really wanted to, but ticket prices were insane.” When you noticed he hadn’t responded and was organizing the papers in his hands instead you apologized once more and excused yourself to the front door feeling the embarrassment overwhelm you. “Have a good night Yoongi!”, you cheerily said still trying to stay on his good side. You bent down to give Suga a few pats too, “Good night to you too. Go get some sleep so you’re not a grumpy butt tomorrow.”

The rain and wind had really picked up even more than earlier which you were not excited about because you should already be home and comfy and warm in your bed. But you had no choice so you pulled up the hood of your jacket and zipped up when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. Yoongi was standing there texting away on his phone, “Let me order a ride for you, an Uber or something. It’s the least I can do after treating you like that.”

“On no it’s okay.”, you smiled, “I really don’t mind walking.”

He insisted though so you sat in the corner of the cafe patiently waiting for the driver to arrive. Yoongi had long returned back to his apartment upstairs leaving you to sit alone and ponder the nights events.

When you got to work the next day you couldn’t help but notice the way Jimin kept smiling in your direction. And it wasn’t his normal friendly sometimes flirty smile that he used with everyone. It was borderline mischievous.

“Anything…uh interesting happen last night?”, he playfully asked as you helped him fold the never ending pile of towels and blankets.

You shook your head, “Nope. Why do you ask?”

“Oh I don’t know. Just making polite conversation I suppose.”

The two of you returned to silence as you continued on with the laundry.

Unexpectedly he spoke up and said, “Listen to any new Halsey songs lately?” Your movements froze, “I mean…doesn’t everyone? Why, what did you hear?” He shrugged his shoulders before running off to handle a customer issue up front.

While Jimin seemed to know something you didn’t, nothing much changed with Yoongi. You did see him down in the cafe more often during the evenings than you had before. He would be going through some paperwork or double checking the inventory counts, nothing too out of the ordinary for someone that owned the place. He was never particularly friendly even though you tried to get him to open up a little. Unfortunately you never got much back in return.

“Hey did you catch that game last night? That last second shot was crazy.”

“Yeah it was cool.”

“You see the new Billboard Hot 100 list? I have to say that I disagree but what’s your opinion?”

“Never looked it up.”

“There’s a really good bbq place a few blocks away. Maybe we could check it out some time. You know…to cater a work lunch or something.”

“Mmhm maybe”.

It seemed like no matter how hard you tried he was just unwilling to really make any effort. Slowly you backed off, but you weren’t going to completely give up yet.

“I made brownies!”, you exclaimed setting the plate down on the table in the break room, “And I decorated them to look like cats!”

“Thanks.”, Yoongi muttered before walking out of the room without even trying them or looking up from the clipboard he was writing on.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”, Jungkook mumbled inbetween mouthfuls of a brownie, “The last thing Yoongi is interested in is a relationship. Unless you’re a cat…he won’t even notice you exist.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, you said faking innocence.

“Come on Y/N.”, he scoffed before taking another brownie, “Everyone can see it. You get to work early all the time. You drag your feet at night trying to stay late hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Always bringing snacks and food. Trying to make conversation about things he likes even if you don’t…like sports. You like him. Some might even say you have a crush on him.”

You rolled your eyes doing your best to ignore what he was saying and not show that it was striking a nerve with you.

“Look.”, he said standing up, “I’ve worked here for a couple of years. I know Yoongi and I know how he is with people and you’re wasting your time. I’m just telling you this as your co-worker and friend so that you don’t end up getting hurt in the end.”

His words stuck with you through the rest of your shift and even for the next few ones as well. He seemed pretty serious about it and you started to wonder if maybe he was right. Maybe it was pointless and you should let it go because you had made zero progress with Yoongi.

But then one evening Yoongi came up to you gently cradling a beautiful kitten against his chest who he introduced as the newest addition to the cafe crew. Excitedly he held up the little tabby cat and proudly announced her name as Halsey. You looked on and smiled as he snuggled against her fur. That was the moment you needed to give you just a little bit of hope and increase your motivation to not give up just yet.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you experienced the first odd happening with Yoongi. It was late in the night on your day off when you received a text from him begging you to work a double shift the next day. Something about Jimin eating questionable sushi and being unable to make it to work and he asked everyone else and they’re all busy and you were his last chance. It wasn’t something you really wanted to do because there was a reason you applied for the evening shift after all because you hated mornings. But you could really use the money right now and when he sent another text begging even more you felt bad and against your better judgement you agreed.

So the following morning you arrived at the cafe at the crack of dawn. Yoongi was already entering something in on the computer. You mumbled a good morning and beelined it for the coffee machines, once again thankful for the free coffee perk.

“How do you like yours?”, you asked when he walked up beside you.

“Black.”

“Eww that’s no fun.”

“It’s coffee. What is supposed to be fun about it? I drink it for the caffeine rush.”

“Alrighty then.”, you sighed not in the mood for a discussion. Yoongi stood off the side making a disgusted face as he watched you added a few pumps of vanilla and a few hazelnut and then a couple scoops of sugar for good measure. “Do you want any coffee with your sugar?”, he questioned.

You sipped on the coffee feeling the life come back into your body instantly so you chose to ignore his comment.

Suga jumped up on the front counter to get your attention. You liked to think he was happy to see you so early.

“My sweet Suga boy. Good morning. Did you sleep okay?”, you cooed like usual scratching at the spot just behind his left ear that always got him going. The cat happily leaned into your touch.

“Wow…Jimin said that Suga seemed to really like you but I didn’t think it was to this extent. I think I might have some competition.”, Yoongi laughed.

“He’s a sweetheart. When did you adopt him?”

Suga had now move his attention back over to Yoongi. He picked him up and cradled him against himself, “Ohhh probably about four years ago. Right before I opened this cafe. He was rescued from a pretty bad situation. I had just gotten out of one myself and decided I wanted to adopt a cat for some companionship. I was eyeing him the whole time and then the woman at the shelter said that statistically black cats are less likely to get adopted and it was even lower for unfriendly ones. Suga had been at the shelter for over a year without anyone ever showing interest in him. I know what that feels like and…noone deserves that so I adopted him. It took some time and a lot of work but he’s coming around.”

“Yeah you did a good thing.”, you smiled watching Suga lazily flop onto his side so Yoongi could scratch his belly.

Later that day you were ringing up a customer when Jungkook came in with a few of his friends.

“Y/N what are you doing working so early? Not leaving the closing crew on me are you?”, he playfully asked.

“No no.”, you chuckled, “There was no one else to work so I’m doing a double to help Yoongi.”

“Man why didn’t he call me?”, he pouted, “I’m dying for some more hours.”

Your brows furrowed. Yoongi said he had called everyone and you were his last hope, “B-But he said he called everyone else?”

“Nope.”, Jungkook said double checking his recent calls and texts, “I got nothing.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Yoongi pretending to wipe down an already sparkling clean table and he did it with a noticeable blush on his cheeks.

“Weird…maybe he accidentally called the wrong number.”, you finally replied unsure of what else to say. He shrugged it off and proceeded to order a coffee and a few for his friends too. Before he left he slid a flyer across the counter at you, “I’m performing at this bar down on campus next Saturday. If you’re not busy maybe you can come watch.”

You nodded and accepted the flyer, “Yeah I’ll definitely think about it.”

Curiously Yoongi came over to look over the flyer which gave you an idea.

“Hey want to go with me? Maybe we can grab dinner or something before and then go show our support for our Kookie.”, you asked him.

“Kookie?”, he questioned with an eyebrow raise, “I don’t know. I’m not much of a bar person and if you two are going to need the night off then someone has to be here…”

You sighed, “Yoongi…Namjoon and Taehyung can handle the evening shift for one night. They’re dying for more hours. Plus it won’t kill you to go out and have a little fun once in a while.”

“I’ll think about it.”, was all he said before walking off. And after some begging on your part to get Namjoon to agree to switch shifts for the day and a few promises that it will be fun, Yoongi finally agreed to go with you to the show. He even shocked everyone and accepted your invitation to dinner.

He arrived at your apartment at 7pm exactly. His ripped blue jeans and white button down fit perfectly and were a nice change from the usual tshirt and black pants you were used to seeing him in around the cafe. A light woody vanilla scent filled the air between you.

“Are you wearing cologne Min Yoongi?”, you smirked noticing the immediate redness run down his neck.

It took everything in you to peel your eyes away and not stare too long at him.

“Ready?!”, you cheerfully asked before leading him back down the hall and into the elevator.

You spent most of the dinner trying to get to know more about him. Asking questions about his family, his friends, where he grew up, but he didn’t really seem to want to give up much information. After the entire time all you got was that he didn’t have much contact which his parents, he had one brother who lived on the other side of the world, no friends even though he did smile a little when you mentioned Jimin, he liked basketball, music, and cats which you already knew all of that no nothing new.

Most of the dinner was you telling him about your family, your friends, your cheating ex, the dream job you lost, and your future goals. He nodded and smiled when you said something funny. He was attentive and listened to you so even though he didn’t say much you still had a good time.

When the bill came he refused to let you pay anything no matter how much you pleaded.

“If you wanted to take me on a date you could’ve just asked!”, you joked.

“I don’t date my employees.”, he mumbled unable to make eye contact with you. Even though you were joking to begin with (kind of) his response did end up hurting just a bit but you were able to recover quickly and laugh it off to get on with the rest of the night.

Jungkook’s set was great. He really had a talent for performing and when he got a standing ovation at the end you may have been the one cheering him on the loudest.

“Y/N! What did you think?”, Jungkook asked after running up to you at the bar. “You did great! I didn’t know you were so talented.”, you smiled.

“Hey, I want to introduce you to someone.”, he said pulling another guy over next to him. He was tall and muscular with a nice smile. “This is one of my good friends Mingyu. He helps me with a lot of my music and stuff. We met in a dance class a few years ago.”

You smiled politely, “Hi, nice to me you.”

After listening to Jungkook you figured out what he was doing. He was certainly trying to set you up with his friend. Even though he was definitely cute and seemed nice enough you weren’t very interested. You were more concerned about finding out where Yoongi had run off too. He had excused himself to the restroom quite a while ago and you were starting to get worried that maybe he was sick or had something else happen to him.

While you listened to Jungkook hype up his friend you also continued to scan the room looking for any sight of Yoongi. Eventually Jungkook and Mingyu realized you weren’t that interested and also excused themselves to mingle with the rest of the crowd giving you the chance to finally search for your boss/friend/crush.

You quickly found him. Leaning up against the bar finishing up what looked like his third drink judging by the empty glasses in front of him. The bartender was pouring a little more whiskey in a glass before handing it over to him once more. When you walked up next to him you could tell from the way he was swaying and his dilated pupils surrounded by wet flushed skin that he was drunk. When he opened his mouth to speak you found out that he wasn’t just buzzed but was DRUNK drunk.

“Hey ttthhhere cutie pie!”, he slurred, “I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for you.”

Oh boy did the alarm bells start ringing in your head.

“Mmmhm I’m sure. I’ve been here the whole time though.”

“Iiiiiii knoooow.”, he hiccuped before booping your nose, “But I saw you and your new boyfriend. I didn’t want to interrupt the romance.” You couldn’t even respond before he kept going, “Th-that guy with Kooookkkooiiiiee. You know…Mr. Extra Small Black Tshirt. I’d have been muscles like that too if I wore clothes out of the kids section.”, he scoffed.

“Yoongi let’s get you home.”

“Why so you can go home and…what do the kids say these days?…Copulate…So you can go home and copulate with him.”

“No.”, you sighed, “And I’m pretty sure no one, especially the kids these days, use that word.”

Getting him back to his place was difficult. You were sweating and panting and already sore from practically carrying him all the way there. Once inside the safety of the cafe the two of you crashed to the ground. Your poor knees just couldn’t take it any longer. Suga came out and greeted you meowing on and on about something. You would like to think it was concern at seeing the state of his owner, but you knew he was just upset from being woken up in the early hours of the morning and was making sure you knew it.

After taking a little break and forcing Yoongi to drink a bottle of water you got up and helped him get up off the floor to then again pull him all the way to the back of the store to where the door to his apartment was.

You remembered Jimin being very clear about never going into Yoongi’s apartment and you didn’t want to break that trust so you opened the door up for him and just hoped he would make it up there okay.

“Alright, go get in bed and sleep this off. I’ll check on you in the morning.”, you said pointing in the direction he needed to go.

“Come upstairs with me.”, he pouted.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“You’re drunk. Go drink some more water and get some sleep.”

“Y/N,”, he said taking a step closer to you, “I want you to. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

You shook your head, “I really don’t think that’s a good idea right now.“

“Why? Because I’m not tall and muscular? Because I don’t wear designer clothes? I’m not talented and perform on a stage? I bet if Jungkook or that other guy asked you would say yes. Is it because I just own a silly little cat cafe?”, he spat seeming hurt, a little angry and also confused.

“No Yoongi. None of that is true. We can talk about this tomorrow.”, you stood firm.

That’s when he did something you never expected. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in to kiss you. Instinctively you melted into it. You let his hands roam your body. You kissed him harder when a little moan escaped him as you ran your hands through his hair ending with a little tug.

But then it all changed. You tasted the left over reminisce of whiskey on his tongue. The smell of the alcohol on him became even stronger in that moment and it brought you back to reality. He was drunk. Drunk beyond coherent consent. He made it clear earlier that he didn’t date his employees. As much as you wanted him you weren’t going to take advantage of him especially since you knew how that felt and you definitely did not want to be seen as a mistake when he woke up sober and realized what happened.

Pulling it together you pushed him away from you., “No Yoongi. We can’t do this. Not now.”

Still not having full control of his body he fell back against the wall, hard. The impact seemed to have sobered him up instantly or sobered him up enough that he realized what had just happened between the two of you.

“I…I…”, he said frantically looking around, “I’m so sorry.” He entered through his apartment door slamming and locking it behind him. You could hear him running up the stairs and slamming another door.

You were left standing there bewildered and afraid and anxious.

The only noise that broke the deafening silence was the loud purring coming from Suga as he walked over to you and lovingly rubbed himself up against your legs.

[flowercrowngods]

based on an idea i had about steve getting a bad migraine from the sudden bloodloss after kas feeds from him

post-canon, steddie don't like each other, hermit kas, depressed brain injury steve, kinda gloomy, anxiety & compulsions

Steve cuts the engine with a sigh, feeling heavy and alien, like a lone survivor in a ghost town. He’s not a lone survivor, and Hawkins isn’t technically a ghost town because there’s still enough of them here to build it back up or to watch it crumble and cave in on itself, front row seats to the fourth wave of destruction. 

Maybe the real ghost is Steve, actually, floating through his days just waiting for his brain to decide it’s had enough. Just waiting for the perpetual ringing in his ears to rise in pitch and frequency and for his skull to fucking crack open from the never ending waves of the never ending buzz.

Robin asks him about it a lot, notices how he will stop and listen to his body on every inhale that feels slightly wrong, or every movement that’s just a little too fast or just a little too sudden, the blood rushing into his head or out of it, the doctor’s words ringing in tune with the tinnitus: You watch that head of yours, young man, and do not hesitate to call emergency services when the headache won’t stop after a few hours, or when anything feels off, you hear me? 

The truth is, he barely heard him then. Blood was roaring in his ears, the tinnitus still quiet, but his hearing still dull from impact and screams and shock wave after shock wave of the world sewing itself back together. 

He sighs again, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel and trying to catch his breath. Taking stock of his head, the heartbeat he can only feel in his hands right now and nowhere near his temples, and the quiet little tap tap tap of his finger nails hitting the leather, wanting to make sure he can hear it. Wanting to make sure he doesn’t imagine the sound. 

Always fucking needing to make sure. 

Soon, he breathes a little steadier, convincing himself that getting out of the car won’t be the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s so stupid, too, that fear, all that anxiety living inside him just waiting to boil and spill over until he does something stupid just to spite it.

The cool breeze hits his face, working in tandem with his calming breaths to alleviate his obsessive thought spirals, and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he does nothing but breathe for a minute there. 

He’s up. He’s standing. He can walk through the forest to the vamp’s hiding place, it’s fine. It’s fine. Although standing so suddenly makes him aware that he hasn’t eaten much today, too busy hating everything about this town and helping to rebuild it anyway. 

Forgetting to eat and drink is another thing that’s new to him. There’s quite a few things he forgets a lot, but those are the worst. Robin is always on his ass about that, but at some point he stopped telling her. It feels like he’s stopped telling her a lot of things. Maybe that’s something else that comes with severe brain injury, young man. 

He feels plenty guilty about it at least — but not enough to tell her about all the horrible things that are happening to him, or the horrible things he thinks are happening to him. The Upside Down is gone, Vecna is dead. These bad thoughts, they’re all him. But knowing that doesn’t fucking help.

Pushing away from the car and turning around to lock it, Steve decides to wallow in self pity no longer and to just get on with it. As much as he hates it. As much as part of him wants to just go home and claim that he forgot about that, too. 

It’s no secret that Steve never liked Eddie. The boy’s a hypocrite, he’s loud, he’s annoying, and he just likes to shame people as publicly as possible, spitting proclamations of conformity and sticking it to the Man while at the same time turning anarchy into despotism under the guise of rebellion — and he’s the dictator. 

Or, he was. And Steve never cared about him or his larger than life attitude that was worse than any of the smiles Steve ever wore to fit in in high school. Steve mostly ever just wanted Munson to shut up and eat his lunch, stop pretending he’s better than any of them just because he liked different things.

Although it wasn’t even about liking other things, it was only ever about disliking. And shaming and denouncing. Steve always wondered what kind of a miserable life that dude must have lived, shaping himself not from what he liked but from what he hated. Creating an identity that left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth because it was so fragile and contradictory and, frankly, so fucking annoying. 

Still, he’d never wished for Munson to get involved in all of this. He’d never wished for the man to die. And then to come back only to be turned into some kind of vampire, doomed to live an even worse existence than he did as a human, hidden away in some shabby cabin. 

Steve feels a little bad for him now. For Eddie. Or Kas, as the kids like to call him because he never reacts to his name anymore, more monster than human these days, although Dustin is sure they can domesticate him into becoming his old self again. 

“Like Dart, remember?”

“Dude, don’t compare our friend to your sick little creature.” That was Lucas, affronted and annoyed. Steve could relate, although… 

“You gotta admit, he’s kind of a sick little creature himself now.” 

“Steve!” they’d both yelled, and Steve just playfully shoved their heads back before going to grab a coke from the fridge.

And Kas, because vampires are apparently a thing even after the end of the world, needs blood to survive. The forests are void of animals most of the time, like nature has decided to give Hawkins an ultimatum before returning and the day hasn’t come yet. Maybe it’s something to do with electromagnetic fields, or maybe it was something else entirely leading them all to safety while Hawkins was turned into a war zone. Either way, there is nothing for him to feed here. 

Kas can’t just stalk around the woods at night and drink up a deer or two. Nor can he go rob the blood bank at the hospital, they’re running low as it is anyway. That left them all with only one option that Mike so disgustedly pointed out back then: Kas needs their blood. And Steve feels just bad enough for him to play along. 

So now he is out here playing blood bank for the monstrous version of a guy he never even liked, and his hometown is in shambles, and his head might actually sign the fuck off at any moment now, apparently. 

Things are going great. 

Saving the world is just… really fucking isolating. 

Still he has no choice but to announce his presence with a firm knock on the door, the pattern easy but memorable. 

“This is Steve,” he adds as his hand falls to his side, waiting. 

Kas always takes a while to come out and open the door, hiding away from any noise like a feral cat. Steve can kind of relate — he and Kas don’t have the best relationship either. He has no idea how sudden vampirism works, but just like feral cats will be able to tell when someone wants to hurt them and when instincts should be kicking in, Kas seems to realise how little Steve wants to be here and help him. How little he wants to have his blood sucked out of his body leaving his limbs to feel numb and uncomfortably tingly. 

Eventually, though, the door opens with a creek, just enough for a pair of eyes — too large, too wide, too wild — blink back at him. Steve just lifts his eyebrows, really kind of not in the mood to deal with this barely human vampire and his absolute lack of learning curve about this situation.

When he’s sure Kas has blinked at him for long enough now, he pushes open the door and shoves inside rather roughly, immediately feeling bad when he hears the slight whimper. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets again and trying not to grimace at the stale, disgusting air in the cabin. “Jeez, you really gotta open a window every once in a while. Thought vamps were supposed to have heightened senses or some shit.” 

Kas growls at him, mirroring Steve’s move and shoving past him this time, his shoulder slamming into Steve’s with painful strength. Glowering at the stupid vampire, he rubs at his shoulder before crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Listen, buddy, I can just leave and have you deal with your hunger, okay? No big deal for me, I even get to keep my blood.” 

Kas snaps at him, showing his fangs and crossing his arms, too; a laughable copy of Steve’s own stance. 

“Or you could just cut the crap and get on with it so I actually can leave again without taking shit from the peanut gallery. Your choice.” 

The huff that follows is so indignant, Steve wonders if that could be what gets Kas out of Munson’s body and let the human win over the monster. Maybe indignation and annoyance is what will break the spell eventually, lift the curse just enough for Munson to get back into his old habit of monologising and spouting nonsense out of that big mouth of his. 

Steve is half tempted to try, but he really does want to just go home and lie on his large couch with no sensory input whatsoever, tuning out the world and his anxieties that might be about to turn into compulsions just for him to gain a little control over everything again. So he squares his shoulders and takes off his jacket before tilting his head to the side, allowing Kas full access to his neck. 

It’s always a little scary but still oddly fascinating, filling him with that same rush that came with witnessing all the supernatural shit over the past few years. Kas is the last remnant of all that, and somehow, buried beneath piles of rubble and trauma and the teenager he had to give up on being, Steve feels weirdly protective of that. 

Not of Eddie. Of Kas. Of the monster that lies dormant. Of the last bit of danger in his life, because he doesn’t know how to live without it anymore — so much so that he has to make it up.

Maybe it’s a symptom of his self destructive tendencies, as Robin would call it. But Steve might be as fascinated with the vampire as Robin is with fire; so she doesn’t get to have a say in this.

There is always a strange intimacy in the way Kas approaches him. Slowly, carefully. Like a hunter his prey. Steve doesn’t feel like prey, not really, but a part of him wants to. A part of him needs to be prey again, if only for those instincts that manifest with a perpetual tremor and a restless feeling in his chest to be of use again. If only so he can have a point again. Something to fight that’s outside oh his own head. 

Now, his point is standing still entirely and feeling those chapped but warm lips trail up and down his throat a little before Kas finds the right spot that won’t really hurt Steve, the right spot that will make it all go by quickly and without any hiccups. 

Still he shivers, like always, and Kas holds him close when he finally bites down. Like always. 

He stands motionless as he feels his blood flow alternating, rushing in his ears and his head, his heart thump-thump-thumping, putting up a fight against the strange intrusion. He hardly even breathes at all, focusing instead on his body and burying his finger nails in his palm for five seconds before releasing his hands and repeating the process three times before he gets it right. 

But then his head is pulsing, his heartbeat slowing down as his vision briefly blacks out in the same way it does when he gets up too quickly, and his heart falls. It’s too much. Too sudden. 

“Kas,” he says, but the vampire doesn’t hear him, drinking more and more of the blood that must be so thick with how little he’s had to drink today — something he only just remembered. “Kas,” he says again, more urgently this time; but still the vampire drinks. 

And where before Steve had a clear vision of the door in the dark room — the light of day streaming in through the cracks and framing it almost mystically —, it’s spotty now. Just slightly off. Like something is missing but his brain is working overtime to complete the picture anyway, reducing the blind spot to merely an illusion. But Steve knows what’s happening. He knows what the sudden pulsating of his head means, especially when it’s followed by his vision just going AWOL on him.

No, he thinks as the situation really settles in, and he begins to push Kas away. Not like it matters anyway now; the damage is done. No, no, no, no, fuck! 

He frantically shoves at the vampire now, blinking against the blind spot even though he’s painfully aware it won’t help. Kas breaks away from him, wiping his mouth and smearing his face and the back of his hand with Steve’s blood. If he looks just right, he can’t even fucking see it. 

Heart falling further, Steve buries his hands in his hair and pulls, hoping that by some kind of miracle he can just pull the migraine out of his head before it can really settle. It’s his only chance. He can’t drive like this, he shouldn’t walk like this, and soon he won’t be able to do anything at all. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” be hisses, hearing the edge of desperation in his own voice and caring very little about that right now. 

Kas is on him again in a second, and Steve waves him off, tries to shove him away but the vampire is stronger and persistent. 

A high keening sound builds in Kas’s chest, and Steve knows he doesn’t really speak, doesn’t really use his words, ever — maybe he doesn’t know how. But the keening sounds more like a whine, and the way he pulls at Steve to look at him is as much an indicator of worry as he’s going to get.

But Steve doesn’t want Kas’s hands on him, wants to just get out and away before the pain comes. So he takes another step back and holds up his hands, hoping that the vampire will just fucking take a hint. 

A little too quickly and a little too frantic, Steve shakes his head, his eyes flitting about the room to see if there’s still pieces of it missing or if phase two is about to start. He has about twenty minutes left before his body will be composed of nothing but skull-splitting pain that is only equal to someone ramming actual nails into his head — and even that would be preferable right noe, because at least that pain he wouldn’t need to explain. Or justify.

Another keening sound interrupts Steve's burgeoning spiral, and his eyes land on Kas, who really looks like a kicked puppy right now. 

"I gotta go," he says, voice a little unsteady with apprehension and panic, but just as he's about to rush out of the cabin, Kas crosses his path and won't let him move. 

A strong hand lands on his chest, and Steve really, really doesn't want to deal with that right now. He tries again, tries with more force to sidestep and push past him, but Kas won't let him budge. 

"Let me go." But Kas doesn't let up. "Kas. Please. You gotta let me go, I gotta get home, I—“ 

The first flash of white in his peripheral vision catches him off guard, moving his focus away from the clawed hand on his chest and toward the flickering line that cuts through the left side of his vision right now. 

Curious or worried or maybe just really fucking stupefied at having Steve act so weirdly, Kas inclines his head and ducks to catch Steve's eyes. 

"Move," Steve says again, as assertive as he can manage with his brain and body scattered between following the flickering lights that are invisible to everyone else and the pain that is about to consume him, leaving him incapacitated for several hours at least.

Instead of moving out of Steve's space and allowing him to leave, Kas shoves him backwards with that superhuman strength he has now, forcing Steve to stumble back helplessly. Fear rises in him again, and it's a different flavour this time that mixes horribly well with the anxiety and apprehension and all the waves and waves of blinding panic he feels out of nowhere almost all the time now. 

His knees buckle when they hit something rather violently, and then he's falling, landing on the worn couch with a breathless gasp, his instincts running wild. He needs to fight, he needs to run, he needs to get home and be safe and get the fuck away from this monster who won't let him go now. Steve doesn't know Kas as someone who will just take what he wants, but, well, he is Munson, in a way. So that tracks. 

But instead of attacking him, instead of going for his neck again and sucking the rest of his blood, instead of beating Steve to a pulp to keep him pliant and unmoving and turn him into some sort of personal livestock, Kas just... sits down next to him. Hands in his lap. Worried look trained on Steve, who needs to catch his breath and calm down.

"Hurt." 

It startles Steve. Kas has never spoken to him. But what’s more, Steve shouldn't be that obvious. He doesn't want to be that obvious, especially about hurting and being hurt. 

So he shakes his head, his hands coming up to press into his eyes, hoping to get rid of the flickering lights even though he knows that once they stop, the pain will come; and it will come badly. 

"'M not hurt," he says, lying through his teeth and the heel of his hand. "I just gotta go home." 

"Hurt," Kas says again, and it's more assertive this time, less of a question. Like he's telling Steve rather than asking. Like he's making him understand. 

He reminds Steve a little of Robin in that regard, and he almost has to smile. He would, too, if he wasn't so aware that it would become a horrible grimace, wavering and pale even by vampire hermit standards. 

So he sighs instead, letting his hands fall into his lap and wringing his fingers. There are about ten, maybe fifteen minutes left. Not enough to get anywhere safe on foot, and he sure as hell ain't driving when his vision is halfway through its rendition of a TV without signal, zig-zagging in white and red and green, flickering and flaring and leaving him a little disoriented even when all he's doing is sitting on that dusty old couch. 

"Hurt," Kas repeats for the third time, and Steve tenses, ready to snap at him to shut up, that he's not hurt yet but will be any minute now and that Kas should really just shut the fuck up and leave himself if he won't let Steve go anywhere. 

But looking at those wide eyes, he doesn't snap. He deflates. His shoulders fall and his eyes close, which only makes the flickers worse, he feels.

“I’m… I’m gonna have a migraine," he sighs, letting that hang in the air between them, letting the words take up the whole room and suffocate him while he knows that they won't touch Kas. That he won't understand. Nobody does. 

It's just a headache, Steve, get over it. 

They leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and he's just waiting for the huff to come. 

But it doesn't come. Instead, Kas just keeps looking at him; same worried expression, same unobtrusive posture, same everything. Right. He probably doesn't know jackshit about what that's supposed to mean. 

So Steve explains. “I, well. I kinda can't really see right now, but that'll pass. That's when the pain comes. I won't want to move. No light. No noise. No nothing. And all I can do about it is wait it out, which is why I need you to let me leave..." 

It's one of those moments where he hates that he's the only one of their group with a license; that he can't just radio with a code red and have someone come get him no questions asked. 

"I just wanna go home, man," he sighs, hating his voice for the weak whine around the edges. 

A beat passes between them, and Steve pretends like he's not counting the seconds. Like he doesn't notice that the flickering zigzag line is getting smaller and dimmer, and that agony is imminent. 

"Here," Kas says then, and somehow it's both an offer and a command. "You. Here."

Steve blinks, the words not really translating through the tired fog of his brain. 

"Huh? Sorry, uh, what?" 

"You," Kas says, shuffling closer to him, like that sort of helps him translate what it is he wants to say. 

"Me." 

Kas nods, then motions around the room and pats the couch cushion, releasing a cloud of dust from it. "Here."

“You—“ Steve frowns. "You want me to stay here?"

The nod is decisive and in another world Steve would have called it eager, with the way Kas is shuffling on the spot. 

"Kas," Steve sighs, rubbing his face, not quite sure how to make the vampire explain that it's gonna be bad. Really, really bad. The flickering shimmer is already waning, and phantom pains are already setting in, settling along his skull like little pinpricks of warning. 

A clawed hand reaches for his wrist, making Steve flinch away, but Kas doesn't hurt him. He pulls Steve’s hand away from his face almost gently, slowly, and makes sure Steve looks at him. 

"Safe." And he looks so genuine about it. He looks like he knows what that word means. "Safe." 

With a sigh, Steve accepts his fate. Kas isn't gonna let him go anytime soon, and at this point Steve really doesn't want to face the gloomy weather outside, stuck as it is somewhere between drizzle and downpour and so endlessly grey for days. 

Still he feels pathetic about it. Vulnerable. Exposed. Like a last bastion falling, the castle walls crumbling, the fragile house of cards finally falling, because suddenly this agony isn't something he keeps only to himself. 

Even if it's only Kas who witnesses it. Kas, who’s endured worse than that, Steve knows. Brainwashing, manipulation, the agony of shaping human into vampire so excruciating his mind has gone into hiding still. 

"Okay," Steve breathes at last, pretending that his voice didn't break on that single word. "Okay."

Kas hums, the sound resembling more a gurgle than anything else, and before Steve knows what's happening, cold hands are pulling him up and off the couch. 

"Jesus," he mumbles, barely catching his footing and pulling away from Kas's grasp, but following nonetheless, not even thinking about fleeing now. "I'm coming, I'm coming, man, don't touch me." 

Miraculously, Kas does stay away, walking just one step ahead of Steve, turning towards him every two steps to make sure he's still following. It reminds Steve of a mama duck herding her ducklings across the street and making sure they're all still there. It's weirdly endearing. 

"Why do you even care?" 

He doesn't get an answer, but that's no surprise, and he doesn't really mind either. It was more about wondering, about putting that question out there and letting it take up space for future contemplation. 

Kas leads him to an adjoining room, the north-facing windows all barred shut, ripped and moth-eaten curtains drawn to block out the last of the light. Right. Fitting, for a vampire's lair. 

The bed in the middle of the far wall is surprisingly large, though, and looks surprisingly soft. It's unmade, but that's just as well. There are no belongings in the room otherwis that Steve can make out, the framed pictures on the wall look as dusty as the rest of the cabin, so they can't belong to Kas. Or maybe he likes them enough to keep them, to claim them as his own now. 

It’s a heartbreaking thought. 

Stupidly and out of nowhere, Steve wonders if he could take care of this cabin. Dust it and clean it and only fill it with things Kas likes. Maybe things Munson used to like — surely the kids would know how to go about that. Or Wayne. 

He's about to ask; about the pictures, about the stuff, about Wayne — if he's been around lately, if he's still telling stories to bring back the dormant Eddie parts of his modified and manipulated mind.

But just as he's about to turn to the vampire and ask, the blinding flickers disappear from his field of vision in the dark room, and within seconds something inside his skull bursts, leaving his body awash with pain that nearly has his knees buckling. A whimper escapes him that he tries to steer into a groan, but then his hands are flying to his head and he stops caring about how he expresses this immediate agony to the world. 

Kas is on him again with a whimper, suddenly just as fucking tactile as his once-human form. 

“Don’t touch me,” Steve rasps, wrenching himself free from the gasp once more. He really wishes Kas would stop touching him. "You want me to lie down here, yeah? Take your bed?" 

Kas nods again, looking at Steve with those wide eyes that seem to glow in the dark — or maybe that's his migraine-addled mind seeing things where they aren't, making up for the blind spot and the flickering. 

Steve looks away, the motion hurting his entire face, and he closes his eyes as pins and needles are moving along the inside of his face, pricking up against the skin but never breaking through. 

"Right then," he whispers, his voice barely audible and still too loud, making his ears click and pressure collect around them, making him wonder if they're going to burst. "'M gonna lie down." 

Struggling with the heavy blanket, Steve is close to giving up and just lying on top of it, but Kas is quick to help him once he realises that Steve needs it. He pulls back the blanket, still looking so damn stricken about everything, like he's genuinely worried about Steve. It doesn't make sense. 

He doesn't have the strength for a Thanks or even a smile, but he nods just once, just barely, before sluggishly falling onto the bed and fumbling with the blanket once more. Every movement hurts. Every twitch of a muscle is too much, and just moving his pinkie is enough to douse his body in never-ending pain that travels from his skull all the way down.

Something Steve has always wondered is why migraines make his body shut down like that, leaving him in a state where all he can do is lie down and fall into a near-catatonic limbo until the pain has lifted enough to face the rest of the world again. Fighting inter-dimensional monsters and posing as a feast to demonic, modified monster bats was also agony. It also made him lose his footing and almost pass out from blood loss and pain, his back scratched open completely where the bats dragged him across rough stone. 

Migraine pains don't really compare to those, though, and it scares him. Because he knows that's all up in his brain. His fucked up, mangled, thrice-concussed fucking brain he never got cared for because the government goons never took them seriously. Never took him seriously. 

And now here he is, lying in a stranger's bed in a pitch-black room that's still somehow too bright, unmoving, too weak to even pull up the blanket, and hoping to pass out from it all. Hoping he won't hallucinate again this time. Hoping that he won't throw up this time, his body convulsing because it knows it shouldn't be feeling like this. 

Throwing up from pain. There's really nothing more fucked up than that. Or, there is. Throwing up from pain and begging an invisible man to make it stop, only to realise hours later that the most painful migraines can also make you hallucinate. 

He doesn't want that. He doesn't want any of that ever again, and certainly not in a strange, dark cabin with a vampire forged from a human he never even liked. 

Tears spring to his eyes, but they're not the kind that'll fall and bring relief. They just stay in the corners of his eyes, his only way to express the waves and flares of pain washing over him, wishing he could just pass out now. 

Kas tucks him in. Steve didn’t know he could do that. It strikes him as extremely non-vampiric even in this state he’s in. Steve doesn’t react, doesn’t so much as blink his eyes open as the pain travels up to his hairline and settles there, flaring over his forehead to his eyes and down to his cheekbones and then up again, a never-ending motion that he never stands a chance to get used to. 

“Safe,” Kas says again, and it zings through Steve’s body with violent force that doesn’t match at all with the gentle tone he’s using. 

Scrunching his forehead to stave off more words, Steve hopes that Kas will take the hint and know to shut up. 

But he has no such luck. 

“Here.” 

“Shhh.” He shakes his head minutely, shushing the vampire with a barely there noise, keeping the damage to a minimal amount. “You can go,” he slurs, trying not to speak at all. “Please.” 

A beat of blessed, blissful silence, before there’s shuffling again. Kas does walk to the door, but then stops in the doorway. Steve doesn’t want to look. 

“No.” Kas sounds surprised about it. Mystified. Like he wants to leave but can’t. 

What?

“Stay. Here.” 

Whatever you do, just please be quiet about it, Steve thinks desperately. Instead of saying any of that, he shushes him again, hoping that the thump he hears means that Kas is sitting on the floor now. Though he doesn’t understand why. 

Why do you even care? 

“Safe,” Kas says again, whispering the word into the room, and it doesn’t zing through Steve this time. 

With Kas refusing to leave and his pathetic state of existence so blatantly on display, and with waves and waves as his nerves fire signals to his overworked and tired brain, more tears sprint to his eyes. And this time they fall. Silently, and without a sob, without even a sniffle of acknowledgment. But they fall. 

And Steve just wants to go home.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @hammity-hammer (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

part 2 here

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

comfort | kmg

i am feeling icky (physically and mentally and basically in all the ways, send help lol) and as always mingyu is my comfort human so i guess i was just feeling it. reader is mentioned to be an introvert. also reader is in a bad place mentally, lowkey is implied to be a depressive episode (self-insert? hi). kinda sorta from mingyu's pov. pet names used (honey, baby, my love). kinda sorta based on this song (How to Love You Today by Son of Cloud).

mingyu understands the difference between being introverted and being quiet -- after all, he's friends with hoshi, an introvert, who can blow his eardrums at a moment's notice. he's also dating you, and while you're no hoshi, you're definitely not a wonwoo, either.

more than understanding the difference between quiet and introverted, though, he knows you. so he knows that look you have in your eyes -- the hollow, dull look that steals over your features, sometimes for weeks at a time, while you struggle to feel anything at all. he sees it in you now as you stare out the window at the gloomy clouds gathering over the hills.

it's getting bad again. he knows it. you're usually so still when you sleep, and so splendidly expressive while you're awake, but recently that has switched -- your dreams are restless and your sleep-talking more vocal, and you spend more time sitting and staring than you do normally, your face blank and empty, your hands cold whenever he reaches for them. these are the kinds of days that sap you of your saturation, leaving you feeling listless and drained -- times when mingyu has to remind you in gentle tones to eat, to come to bed, to join him in the shower. your mind is not always kind to you, so mingyu has made it his personal mission to be so.

the worst part is, you've stopped singing. when you'd been "just friends", sometimes your constant humming and vocalizing would peeve mingyu when he was trying to concentrate, but after living with you for almost two years, he barely notices it anymore. in fact, he only really notices when you stop, and it's one of his first indicators that something is off about you.

he's been waiting for you to tell him what's going on. usually he can tell you're in a bad state before you can, but mingyu also knows that if he tells you he's noticed, you'll start trying to hide it from him. because you don't want to be a burden. (the thought of you ever being too much for him is laughable to mingyu. he loves you like it's breathing -- just an instinct, something he never even needs to think about, because it's just that easy. every person is heavy sometimes, so why was it so unreasonable for you, his most beloved and treasured person, to believe that he'd willingly carry you, no matter how heavy you got?)

so he waits, staying aware of you always, noting how the dark circles under your hollow eyes get more pronounced. and he worries, of course he does. but he also knows that one day, soon, you'll --

"mingyu?"

he's in the kitchen shredding lettuce for a sandwich for you when he hears it: that tiny voice you use when you're sort of kind of hoping he doesn't turn around to look at you. because you're on the verge of tears, or you look like hell, or a million other reasons that he couldn't care less about. so he turns around. "hey baby. what's up?"

"i...i don't feel good."

that's really all he needs. that's really all it takes, if he's being honest with himself. he goes to you where you hover in the doorway, afraid to take up space, and pulls you into his arms. "i know, honey. i've got you."

there's nothing like the feeling of having your tense muscles relax into him, the way your body releases all that angst as he runs a warm hand up and down your back. you lean your head against his shoulder and repeat, "you got me?" softly, almost embarrassed.

but even as mingyu's heart aches for you -- even as the tears prick the back of his eyes as he thinks of how you must've been suffering -- he feels so grateful. grateful that you trust him. grateful that you feel safe enough to do what he knows is so scary for you. grateful that you choose to do it despite everyone in the past who has made you feel inadequate for needing a hand.

he presses one, two, three kisses to your temple. "i've got you, my love. i've always got you."

[c0eu4]

OP81 | Caught ♡

Summary: after Lando found Y/n and Oscar deep into making out, he forced her to break up with him but she became depressed. So he feel guilty and try to work things out between them.

Warning: depression, y/n trying to kill herself (not detailed) smut, dom!reader, sub!oscar

A/N: here's the part two, hope you'll like it <3

part one - part two

MASTERLIST requests are open

''What the hell happened in your head?!'' Lando was mad. Really mad. It must be the first time she sees him that mad. ''Seriously Y/n! Fuck with Oscar!?'' He clenches his fists so hard they're white.

''Lando, it's not that bad?'' She manages to answer him, extremely afraid of him. She knows he will not hurt her physically, but she's afraid to never see Oscar again.

''Not that bad!? NOT THAT BAD!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?'' He yells at her and she bursts in tears, too afraid. Lando didn't hug her. He doesn't try to console her. He does nothing.

''I already call mom.'' He says, more calmly but yet strict. ''You take a plane at eight o'clock to return home.''

''What!?'' More tears flow down her cheeks. ''Lando! Please!'' She tries to grab his arms but he withdraws from her embrace violently.

''No. Take responsibility for your actions.'' She doesn't know what to do. She's so sad right now. No more F1? No more Oscar? And no more of her lovely relationship with Lando?

''I hate you!'' It broke Lando's heart. But he hide it. He doesn't answer, leaving the room to go talk to Oscar. When the door close behind him, she burst in tears, again. Why her? Why Lando was so angry at them? She just wanted to be happy with Oscar.

She sit down in the ground, against the bed. She keeps her legs close to her, hiding her head in. She can't stop crying. What is she going to tell to her mom? ''Oh I fucked with Oscar and Lando doesn't like it.''

No. It can't finish like that. They weren't even a couple. They never been a couple. And they might never be a couple. She finds the strength to calm down and make her bags to go back in Great Britain.

She resist to the tentation of calling or texting Oscar. And when she finally can't deal with it anymore, she finds out that he texted her, ''There is nothing between us.'' and he blocked her.

So all of this was nothing? Oscar never liked her? He just wanted to fuck her like a doll and leave her, her relation with her brother ruined?

After the sadness, here comes the angers. She close her suitcase and leave the hotel room. Lando calls her. And she didn't answer. He tries to call her multiple times but she just ignore him, already in the car to go to the airport.

She finally send him a text, ''I'm in the plane.'' She doesn't wait any longer and entered the plane, keeping back her tears.

_ _ _

Times pass and everything goes worst. Y/n is lost. She don't know what to do. Following her brother in his world tour was her job. And now, she has nothing. Well.. she still have the support from her mother. But with Lando, it's not like before. He's cold. He talks to her only when he needs to and he make everything to not see her.

And in all of this, Y/n can't keep her head up. She slowly start to stop eating, she stop to sleep, too busy to cry. She stop to take care of herself, her messy hair were tied in a braid. Big dark circles under her eyes. She can't find a job and start to have money problem. Even if her parents help her, they can't give her 1300£ per month.

She start to think at a solution. An easier solution. Maybe too easy. It's her mother who find her bloody body on the ground of the bathroom. Hopefully, she was still alive. With a lot of scares. But alive.

When Lando saw her in her hospital bed, he understands his error. He threatened to fire Oscar if he tried to hang out with his sister. But what a big error he made.

She who was so beautiful, so kind and caring.. so.. happy.

He destroy her life.

Lando cried for that. During long night, sometimes on the phone with Carlos.

Carlos never came between Lando and Y/n's difficult relationship. He's just Lando's best friend, there's nothing he can do about it. But yet, it's Lando who open it to him. He told him everything, down to the smallest details.

They talk a lot about it. Carlos comfort Lando and helps him to found a solution.

When Y/n got out of the hospital, Lando was there for her. She tried to push him away, not wanting his pity. But he insisted. And little by little, they recreated links. They became closer, more accomplices. But they still hadn't talked about what happened with Oscar.

She's at Lando's place, on the couch. They both was watching a movie but Lando had to answer an important call. He cames back after a few minutes, a big smile on his lips, ''You wanna come to the Belgium Grand Prix with me?'' Her eyes widen. What is he doing? Did he really wants that? ''So that you can see Osc-'' She cuts him off, still angry after what Oscar did with her. ''I don't want to see him.''

Lando was shocked. Why is she reacting like that? He through that she was in love with him. ''But.. what.. well.. I mean.. And the both of you?'' He sit down next to her, seeing her teary eyes. ''He used me.''

And then, Lando remember what he said to Oscar.

Lando pins Oscar against the wall, refraining from hitting him. ''Never approach my sister again.'' Oscar was shocked by Lando's strength. ''But I love her!'' Lando gaze gets angrier, ''No! No you don't!'' Oscar was scared. Not for him. But for her. He was so afraid to loose her. To loose their little eyes contact game at the paddock. To loose the way they were looking at each other. ''Tell her you never liked her. That all of this was nothing. Or maybe you prefer that everyone think you raped my sister?'' It breaks Oscar's heart. But he listens to Lando. What could he do? He can't afford to let Lando spread rumors about him. ''You are a monster you know?'' ''I'm just a good big brother.'' A tear fall down Oscar's cheek when he send her the text and block her.

''Y/n.. please don't be mad..'' He wipe away her tears with his hand. ''Oscar loves you.'' More tears fall down her cheeks. ''No he don't. He told me it. Before blocking me!'' Lando feels so bad. All of this was because of him. ''I.. I threatened him to send you this message.''

She gets up from the couch. ''You did what!?'' Right when everything was going better between her and Lando, they had to argue again. ''I'm sorry Y/n. I tried to protect you!'' ''You tried to protect me!? PROTECT ME!? I had depression, I tried to die because of it and you think you protected me!?'' Now, Lando is crying too. He can't keep back his tears. ''I..'' He doesn't know what to say. ''Of course I'm coming with you for the Grand Prix. I have to talk with this dumbass.''

Lando can't help but chuckle seeing his sister reaction. Yes she was made at him. But in one hand, she understands him. She probably would have react like him.

''When do we go?''

_ _ _

She walks throughout the paddock, looking for Lando. She missed that. Looking for her brother everywhere until she finds him where he's not supposed to be. It remember her something.... Well. It's already Sunday. And Oscar avoided her the past few days.

Lando feels even more bad. He tries to talk with Oscar but after what happened, they were talking only for the camera. Oscar begin to be so cold. Not only with Lando. But with everyone. It was like something in him was broken. And his heart was. He hesitated so many times to reconnect with Y/n. But he was so afraid of what Lando had said. He knew he would be able to do it, to spread this rumors.

After his Dnf, Oscar was so mad at himself. And against Carlos, of course. But he feels so bad that he was about to cry. All of this, all of what happened, it started to overwhelm him.

He sits in his driver's room, still feeling the adrenaline of the race. He doesn't even bother to look the race at his TV, too busy in his thoughts.

But he quickly comes out, hearing someone knocking on his door. He doesn't answer, just wanted to be alone.

''I know you're here.'' This voice. He can recognize it among a thousand. No. Y/n shouldn't be here. He have to stay away from her.

''Oscar, can I enter?'' He still doesn't answer. Hoping that she would go away. ''Please..'' The way she beg him reminds him of that afternoon in his hotel room. He closes his eyes and sigh. ''Come in.'' She doesn't wait any longer and enter the small room, closing the door behind her. The first thing she said let Oscar in shock, ''Lando tell me everything.''

She stand up in front of him, her blue eyes (The same as Lando.) looking at his. Oscar doesn't know what to do. He's so stunned by what he heard. ''I..I'm so-'' She doesn't leave him the time to finish his sentence that she leans forward and kiss him.

Oscar doesn't kiss her back. She remains leaning forward and Oscar can't help but let his eyes slide towards her cleavage.

''Y/n..we..'' He stop his sentence when she gets on his laps, facing him. ''I know you want it. And I want it too.'' She kisses him again but he still doesn't answer to it. So she grabs his hand and put it on her left breast.

And it was like a trigger for Oscar. He let his other hand slide to her ass and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. She moaned into the kiss as he make her hips moving against his bulge.

''Fuck, I missed this.'' Oscar let his head fall back, Y/n kissing his neck, leaving a few reds marks. ''I need you..'' She helps him remove his racing suit, her hands sliding over his muscles. He then helps her undress her and makes her sit back on his laps. Her now wet and needy pussy rubbing against his hard and fat cock.

''Come in.'' She whiny against his ear, wanting nothing more than feel him inside her. He grabs her hips and helps her impale herself on his fat cock.

She quickly move up and down, his cock sliding perfectly in her tight cunt. ''Oh fuck...Y/n..keep..''

Oscar has never been very oral when it comes to sex. But damn how much he had missed her. ''Yeah yeah yeah.. just like that..'' He keeps encouraging her to go further. She can't keep her moans back as she feels the knot in her lower abdomen slowly untied.

She hides her head in the crook of his neck, keeping back her orgasm. ''Cum f'me baby.'' She doesn't need anything more to drowning his cock with her liquid. Oscar keep trusting in her a few more time and he milks her with his own hot seed.

They regain their breathing, Oscar coming out of her with one last little moan.

''It felt so good.'' She chuckle, kissing him again. ''I missed you.'' He rub his nose against hers. ''I love you. I love you so much Y/n. You can't imagine it.'' She was so surprised to see him showing that much his emotion. Her eyes watered with joy as he kiss her cheek again.

''Aww.. sugar don't cry.'' It made her tears rolling down her cheeks. He hugs her tightly, pressing her breasts against his chest.

They continue to cuddle, making up for all the time they lost together.

But the end of the race comes faster than expected and Lando returns to his driver room, right next to Oscar's.

And unfortunately for Lando, he had the honor of hearing his sister cum under Oscar's licks.

He tried not to get upset. After all, it was said that they looked good together. And Oscar is a good guy. He would never hurt his sister.

So if he's going to have to put up with all their moans, he will.

Because after all. Lando is a good big brother who only wants his sister to be happy.

[thesharktanksdriver]

Okay, hear me out, if Determination!reader goes back to wano, how does king react? Because I kinda get the feeling he is probably one of the most worried about them, and also how would he reach to Reader's being part of the strawhats? Love ya!

(Sorry for not posting a lot lately I’ve been really busy with school. Next week I have two essays due one day after the other with one being 50% if my grade and two days later after the last essay a test worth like 20%. As apology and because I love king I went full analysis mode)

Worried is the understatement of the century, king is in a perpetual state of panic and paranoia from the worry. It’s the type of worry and fear that leaves you on hyper surveillance and makes you sick to your stomach kinda worried. The shot that starts actually affecting your mental and physical health (I know from Experience lol, was not a fun couple of months and I think it gave me trust issues irl oof)

None of the beast pirates are particularly happy about y/n joining a different pirate crew, let alone the strawhats. For a while the Beast pirates have no idea what, who or where y/n went so they were all left in perpetual worrying. Because there’s a possibility they ended up with the marines, vegapunk, or gods forbid in the hands of the world government or Mary geoise (again). But eventually they hear rumours through the grapevine that y/n joined a pirates crew, none of them are sure who but it’s a rumour that only mildly mitigates the stress on most their shoulders except for king.

While kaido stews in a mixture of depression and alcohol, king remains long hours in the night trying to talk with all the contacts that Kaido has into getting more information. What’s the Jolly Roger? What sea could this crew be in? Do they have bounty posters? And most importantly are they competent and a threat?. The number one thing he’s worried about is the world government and by extension marines getting their hands on y/n, so he firstly needs to know if this crew for the time being is competent in protecting them whilst he’s trying to track them down and secondly if they’ll be a hassle in tacking down when the time arrives for retrieval.

He’s coldly calculated in his efforts mostly because fear consumes him down to his very being. It reminds of him being Alber again, not being in control and at the mercy of others and fate.

He so desperately wants to take control of the situation and find y/n because he cares. He cares too much about them and the risk it is with them having their freedom. He will tear their wings and lock them in a birdcage if it means they’ll be safe, and whilst it’s hypocritical he doesn’t really care anymore when he’s been subjected to the hands of the worst of mankind.

You won’t be poked and prodded at like he was, you’ll be safe. Won’t be strapped to a lab table but instead held with care as ash coloured feathers hide you from the world, never mind the smell of burning flesh of those who threaten you.

For a long while his efforts are fruitless (Luffy’s chaotic nature realllly makes it hard for people to track, even highly paid bounty hunters lol) but king starts to get word after one of the Whitebeard commanders is captured by the marines. He wouldn’t take note of it if not for the fact that immediately in response for this reports of something happening on sabaody with doflamingo’s auction house and quote “3 members of the first generation fighting over a child”. What’s more worrying though is the fact that an admiral and pacifista was sent in response.

For a few days tops there’s radio silence and he thinks maybe it’s just a coincidence even if it sounds wayyyy to much like y/n. And then news comes out that some lunatic broke into impel down with a kid and both then proceeded to break out with the help of the now ex-warlords sun of the sea Jimbei and mother fucking crocodile.

At that point king had the unfortunate realization that yep, that’s you and you joined the strawhats of all fucking crews. The crew that quite recklessly went to crocodiles home turf, defeated him and his whole baroque works system, defeated gecko Moria and his island ship, declared war on the world government for Nico Robin and now was headed head on into Marineford to save one of whitebeards commanders. God hates him-

By this point he knows there’s no getting there in time to stop you nor that lunatic you apparently called a captain from getting to Marineford but that doesn’t mean he nor the others would waste this opportunity. But as kaido rallies the other beast pirates king is left to stew in his own thoughts of fear, anger and a bit of envy.

Fear because of how your quite literally sailing straight out of the fire and into the inferno, fear that they make take you and they, no, he wouldn’t be able to save you from the fate of the world government getting their hands on you. Anger at the fact that your apparent captain, Strawhat Luffy, had dragged you through various dangerous situations carelessly. All those stupid decisions could’ve easily ended up with you dead or worse once more and yet this smiling idiot did it anyways knowing you’d follow along, knowing you’d follow him to the ends of the earth because he was your captain. Quite honestly it pisses him off astronomically how careless this kid is, and it makes him deeply envious that you trust him of all people to be your captain. Something that Kaido deserves

Because Kaido unlike this bumbling teen could protect you.

Kaido would raize islands and king would burn cities to ash to prove that

Did you not know that?

Did you not know how much you mean to either of them? To the rest of the upper ranks?

What could this captain do to deserve your kindness in the wake of this cruel desolate world? More than him and Kaido?

It makes him more jealous than he would like to admit, alongside more volatile and easy to anger as the question festers. He wonders if he did anything wrong, if it was all his fault. That maybe if he did something else, if he was faster and didn’t flinch at the moment the hairpin stabbed past the leather and into his flesh that maybe you’d still be here and not with that captain.

What ends up worrying him more though is what happens at Marineford and after. The fact you reveal yourself to the world and so many other questions that can’t be answered on the fact that you escape and disappear for 2 whole years. They couldn’t even make it in time because big mom intercepted them on the way and both crews ended up locked into a battle of sabotaging the other.

But that now leads to wano (sorry for the big build up I like reveling into character analysis lol and I love king)

Within wano due to king, Kaido and Maria’s insistence there are a lotttt of wanted posters for y/n. Considered y/n can’t have photos taken of them due to their devil fruit (they look like a person made of light rather than a person) hand drawn posters are made and distributed. So it’s safe to say y/n is screwed when they show up and the rest of the strawhats are shaking their heads when in their respective new identities they also find these bounty poosters nailed to every board and post in wano lol

( somewhere in wano nami states at the poster of your smiling face painted on the sheet. She can’t help but grumble under her breath and scrunch the picture into a ball that she then kicked away. This batshit plan was already bonkers enough, but of course you had to understate the fact you somehow tamed the god damn beast pirates)

Yeahhhhh so king through Orochi had the posters put up and no matter how small of a tip (typically it was a rumour or some random kid that had maybe the slightest resemblance to you) he showed up regardless of how small of a chance it was.

And eventually it pays out when he found you, someone called in a tip and there you were. Clad in a brown kimono, sticks stuck in your hair and dirt covered hands digging through the trash seemingly looking for food.

Tanuki, you looked like one of those raccoon creatures the people of wano talked about.

Joyful little tricksters and that’s a pretty good description of you right now as he grabbed you by the back of the kimono and lifted you up. Not letting you finish your sentence of trying to talk your way out of this.

He can’t help but frown beneath his mask of the various scratches and bruises littering your arms and face. Not to mention he can already see that the material of the kimono is poor, probably scratchy and irritating. Your scrawny and considering the fact you were elbow deep in the trash behind a small restaurant tells him of why.

He’d fix this though.

Though the tanuki look was fitting he can’t help but think something else is a better look. Maria would fuss over him taking role of caretaker over her but first come first serve. Kaido likely wouldn’t be swayed even with her “affections” towards him because he’d be more than happy with king bringing you back.

There was another myth in wano that he thinks would fit better.

A black winged being of the wind, the tengu.

Yes, perhaps that would also warn others that you were under his protection.

For the first time in years all feels fine at least in the moment, because for as much as you argue with him he can’t help but see that even with the annoyance and slightest bit of fear that internally rips him apart…he also sees that some part of you was happy to see him.

Even with the shit situation and context, within that moment there was still a small silver lining to you seeing that he was ok

He was still alive

Your friend was still alive

“Wait king why is your flame all weird?”

“We’ll talk about that later. For now just…just let me hold you”

There’s a small moment of silence as his star shaped flame created crackles in the alley

“They missed you, I missed you”

“They?”

“The crows”

“Ah”

“….theres still time for you to let me go. To pretend-“

“I won’t do that”

“…I know. Doesn’t hurt to try though, kaido’s orders and all huh?”

His wings extend around from his back to cover you

“You think I’m doing this just because of Kaido? If you truly believe that then I’d suggest you rethink. I’m not letting you go just because of an order, I’m not letting you go because I’m not letting you go back to those who don’t deserve you. Who don’t protect you as they should”

“King…there’s a difference between protection and possession” it leaves you shakily, his wings trapping your further as your fingers dig into the leather of his jacket

“I know. But when you have nothing but pain and suffering but then find something irreplaceable you don’t let go. If a star fell into your hands healing your pain, making you feel less like a husk wouldn’t you not let go?”

“But I’m not a star, I’m a person”

“You’re a lot more than that and you know it…Kaido will be happy. A feast will be thrown and I will be at your side the entire time, your bodyguard”

“My jailer”

“I’m not sorry for that, not when you chose to constantly and deliberately put yourself in harms way. The only thing I’m sorry for is the fact that I may not be able to save you from the sight of Kaido killing your crew”

[koolades-world]

Helloooo it's me again back with another obey me request :)

Could I get the Demon bros with a depressed MC? I'm having a rough time rn and I just need some comfort but ofc feel free to ignore if u don't do requests like these!!

Have a nice day/night!! ♡☆♡☆♡

hi! of course! sorry I'm so late on this!!! also love your pfp (huge pjsekai fan)

Part of the reason I took so long is because I just didn’t know where to start

I love the demon bro I wanna squeeze them like a squishmellow and they’ve gotten me thorough some tough stuff

it's hard for me to articulate anything relating to depression just because I struggle to open up about it especially after my diagnosis. I don’t think anyone except my mom knows only because she was in the room at the time, and all you guys now of course haha

sorry if that was worded so weird and if anything below is worded weird but it’s just hard for me to find words to put together how I’m feeling but writing is my therapy so thank you for this request :)

Brothers with a depressed Mc

Lucifer

would def notice something was up right away from the first meeting, not because of how you acted, but just because it's Luci

once he officially found out, he made all arrangements needed right away

you need a few days off school? you got it, he's already talking to diavolo

you need a break from chores? you got it, he distributed the work among the rest of the family

there's only one thing you feel like eating? you got it, it's what everyone is eating for dinner

supportive in a quiet way, and does all sorts of little things to lighten the load

Mammon

as your first and best man, he acts as your knight and is willing to do anything to help you out

he tries his best to correct his own bad habits so you can work together on yourself

like, for example, if you struggle to get out of bed in the morning, he will get up and moving earlier so you can be up at the same time

nobody is perfect! he tells you this all the time because he knows how dark everything might seem sometimes

he partially understands how you feel since being the family punching bag for hundreds of years takes a toll on someone

he’s with you in every step of your journey, ups and downs, no matter what

Levi

he often has his own self deprecating thoughts, so he knows what you’re dealing with

everyone copes in their own ways but he hopes by sharing all the things he loves, he can bring some happiness

he shared everything with you, both his physical possessions and his thoughts

if you prefer to just sit together, he can do that, but if you want to talk about it, he will do his best to also share how he’s feeling

he wants you to be able to use him as a support system and as someone to fall back on

he always tries to bring a smile to your face and to be someone you trust, despite his own flaws

Satan

he shows you the little joys in life, the ones you might struggle or forget to see like sunsets and how the clouds change color with the sky, or how soft flower petals can be, or how a smile can change someone’s entire day

often he invites you out to places, for no reason at all so you can enjoy everything, especially the sun

he takes you on trips to the human world to visit your favorite places and occasionally see your favorite people if he’s allowed

he helps you with school work and takes the load when ever he can

if you asked him, he would do anything for you <3

Asmo

he always helps you out with your personal hygiene since often, that's what goes first

it's much easier to keep a routine if someone is doing it with you, and Asmo would never forget, so he help keep you on track

but, he's also not pushy about it. if you'll let him, he'll do some of the tasks for you, no strings attached

he's with you at your worst and best. he's not going anywhere

he's determined to be your personal cheerleader and will celebrate all the small things with you

Beel

at first, he's a little shocked at the changes in eating patterns, but supports you when ever and where ever you need it

if he knows there's only one food you will eat, he will physically restrain himself from eating it because he knows how much it means to you

exercise helps but he knows it's probably the last thing you want to do, so he helps you though little bits at a time and takes you out to get a reward afterwards

spending time with you makes him happy, so he figures it must be the same the other way around so he makes an effort to just be with you, even if its just sitting together while you do different things

often finds himself seeking you out just to ask how you are by instinct, proving what a sweetheart he is

Belphie

an interrupted or strange sleep cycle is something he would for sure notice

he becomes the biggest cuddle bug and will often give you sleepy kisses

when you're resting, he'll give you sweet dreams that will leave you feeling warm and fuzzy afterwards

he makes an effort to make the bed just how you like it, and before long makes it a habit to join you in your room for naps and bedtime

he doesn't mind if you wake up at weird time and will wait with you as long as you need to get up

thank you again for such the long wait! hope you enjoyed and hope you're feeling better now <333