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katerina-marie · 3 months

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The Uncertainty of Domesticity

Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 of 3

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t afraid of much, though he definitely felt so when he became a widower in the same moment he became a father. Years later, he felt it again when you came along with the same hopes and dreams for a future he never thought he would experience again.

Content: JJK universe but no canon events / strangers & neighbors to lovers / medium burn idk / female reader and referred to as such but left descriptively vague / no y/n / out of character and soft Toji / single-father Toji / NSFW - vaginal sex so please avoid accordingly - but I can't write smut to save my life so it's not very explicit / Megumi-Mama/Mamaguro dies in childbirth and its mentioned once or twice / cutie pie child Megumi / fluff / slice of life / light angst from Toji's inner turmoil / discussions about having children / pregnancy and childbirth for reader in part 3 (pending) / more notes below

WC: 7.9k

Notes: Slow burn? *Shakes head* I don't know her. I find in my fics that I like to write from a farther out, outside looking in perspective, or in a more snapshot-esque view. Pacing is hard for me in terms of how to write authentic relationship progress, so forgive me if it comes across a little too fast. Though, that is somewhat intentional with this story. I like the idea of Toji and reader going all in cause life can be short and cruel and who's to say that you can't?

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Toji wasn’t entirely sure about the Itadori family.

Yuji was fine enough, if not a bit empty-headed, but his two older brothers caused his eyebrows to raise every time he saw them. The one with pink hair had a temper that rivaled his own and was somehow covered in various black tattoos despite the fact he was still a young teenager. The other one didn’t seem any better to Toji, with dark circles around his eyes as if he was in a constant state of sleep deprivation, and he too had some odd black mark across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. The father was something else as well, but they were kind and accommodating to his son, and it didn’t escape him that they lacked a mother too. All in all, Megumi needed friends, and apparently he picked the odd ones, so Toji would tolerate their peculiarities for the purpose they served. Namely, acting as spare babysitters when the occasion called for it.

But of course, the one time he really needed them, the whole Itadori household had come down with the stomach bug. Since Toji had already done his time with such an illness with Megumi before, he wasn’t so inclined to do it again. Thus, he was sufficiently out of babysitters. Usually if the Itadoris weren’t available, Toji would bribe one of the more trustworthy older students from the school to watch Megumi in exchange for cash and pizza, mostly for nights involving a failed date or something less noble that never felt worth it the next morning. However, in an unfortunate turn of events for such a pleasant Saturday, it was his job and students that were requiring his attention. The principal had rung him twenty minutes earlier to demand his presence in helping with a situation no doubt caused by a particularly troublesome twosome, and Toji wasn’t keen on his last resort of bringing Megumi with him.

That left you. Toji wasn’t sure why he was so nervous about the idea. You had offered again since the first time just last month to watch Megumi for him, but he hadn’t yet found a reason to do so. He wasn’t going on any dates, at least not since you moved across the street, and if Megumi was over spending time with you, Toji had a feeling he’d be itching to do the same.

However, time was ticking, and the longer he stood at the window that afforded him the best view of your house and snuck another glance through his blinds, the more likely he was to forgo the idea entirely. Thankfully, Toji could feel the weight of Megumi’s eyes on his back and since it felt very much like his son was thinking of him as something close to moronic, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed your number before he could stop himself.

“Hello, neighbor,” was your standard choice of greeting for him, but the way it flowed off your tongue and lit upwards at the end always had Toji trying to calculate in his head how many times he could reasonably call you in a week before he could be seen as desperate.

“I have a favor to ask,” he said tightly, and he turned from the window to pace along the back of the sofa that Megumi was currently sitting on. “Can you come over and watch Megumi for a couple hours? Work is being a pain in my ass and I’m needed there, but Yuji’s family is sick, so I don’t really have anyone else to watch him.”

You didn’t miss a beat before squealing your reply into his ear. “Of course! Give me five minutes and I’ll be right there.” Toji, the grouch that he was, couldn’t deny that your enthusiasm for the prospect of spending time with his kid made him feel soft and warm in a way that he usually found unappealing for himself.

“Thank you,” he said back, and he could hear you bustling about on the other end of the phone, “the front door will be unlocked, so just let yourself in.”

After a quick, “sure thing,” you ended the call, and Toji let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding on to. He looked down at Megumi, and from the grin on his face, Toji could tell he knew exactly what was going to happen.

“You better behave, you hear me?” His son nodded so quickly—enthusiastically—that Toji was shocked his head did bounce right off. “You know your schedule for the rest of the evening, so don’t try to weasel anything extra out of it, else I’ll find out.”

Toji walked back to the window to glance through the blinds again. “And don’t tell her anything weird about me either.”

Megumi made a confused noise. “Like how you look for her out the window all the time?”

Toji dropped the blinds so quickly one would think they turned animate and bit him, then spun around to stand up straight. “I don’t do that,” he said gruffly, but Megumi wasn’t paying him any attention, clearly unimpressed by his father’s patheticness, and was instead focused on the book in his lap. Instead of trying to argue with a kid who wasn’t yet six, Toji dashed off to the bathroom to double check its state of cleanliness. He had just finished up when he heard a faint knock at the front door and then your voice greeting Megumi a second later.

Upon coming out and seeing you standing behind the couch while Megumi pointed at something in his book, Toji suddenly wished he didn’t have to leave at all. You were clad in a blue lounge set that looked as soft as he imagined you felt, and under your arm was a bag stuffed with puzzles, movies, and Megumi’s favorite bag of chips. The smile you gave him when he walked up to you didn’t help his motivation either.

“Hi,” you chirped, and Toji didn’t miss your swift head-to-toe onceover of his work clothes that you didn’t even try to hide this time around.

“Hey,” he answered back, and god, he’d be lying if he said that looking down at you while you gazed up at him through darkened lashes wasn’t his one of favorite things as of late. “Thank you again for doing this. I owe you one.”

In the first instance of touch since he had hugged you a couple weeks back after losing Megumi at your house, you placed your hand on his upper arm and squeezed just a little. “It’s no trouble. I promise.”

As the two of you shoved him out the door, clearly catching on to his reluctance to leave, you gave him a cheery promise to keep him updated on everything he’d miss, and as the day wore on, seeing your name on his screen followed by a photo evidence was an extra pump of adrenaline to his system.

You and Megumi sitting outside with ice cream cones that dripped down your fingers.

Megumi’s look of elation when he finally fit the last piece of a puzzle together.

A sheet pan of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven with the assurance that you wouldn’t let Megumi eat more than two (an hour).

You perched on the side of Megumi’s bed with a book in hand while he was snuggled under the blankets as a yawn took over his face.

Each and every one ended up being saved to his phone, and Toji didn’t have any explanation as to why other than because he had wanted to.

By the time he was finished and leaving the school, the sky was black and the air was quiet. The time on his watch told him that Megumi had been in bed for close to three hours now, and Toji wondered what you had been doing in the time since then.

How would you look curled up on his couch with a book? Did you fall asleep to some movie that you had put on the TV? Would he be wrong to imagine that you would glance at the door occasionally and wish that he would walk through it at that moment?

Thoughts of you kept him occupied on his drive home, and once there, he hurried to park the car and bound up the couple steps to his front door. When Toji finally pushed through it, you were sitting in the corner of his couch, TV on and a plate scattered with cookie crumbs in your lap. You craned your neck back to look at him, and the slow smile that stretched across your cheeks had him aching for the nights long passed when there had always been someone to welcome him home.

“How’d things go?” You turned the TV off and shifted in your spot to place your hands on the back of the sofa and then rested your chin on top of them to watch him expectantly

“It was…fine,” Toji managed, and it occurred to him that there was a whole other world he kept hidden from you. At some point, should you indicate that you wanted something more from him, he would have to divulge that pertinent information to you. However, that was getting ahead of himself, and he racked his brain to come up with an explanation that would satisfy your curiosity, but wasn’t so detailed that he couldn’t explain it away if necessary. “Our school was hosting an event with another a couple hours away and, naturally, our resident trouble-makers did something they shouldn’t.”

“Sounds fun,” you remarked sarcastically.

Toji huffed a quiet laugh and considered moving from his place in front of his door to sit next to you but only managed one step before you were making a move to get up.

Another missed opportunity.

“I, uh, really appreciate having you watch Megumi for me today. It seems like the two of you had a good time. But I’m sorry this is how you had to spend your Saturday night.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind at all,” you told him as you stood and bent down to grab your bag off the floor. “Megumi is a great kid, and I love children.”

The adoring look on your face combined with the wistful way your words came out had something twisting uncomfortably in Toji’s stomach. He clenched his hand around his car keys until they dug into his skin painfully. “You do?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, coming around the couch to stop in front of him. “I don’t get to spend much time with them—I only have a few friends that have one or two, and I never had the patience to be a teacher.” You poked a gentle finger into the meat of his shoulder in a way that was teasing, but for once he couldn’t bring himself to react.

Neither do I.

“So you want your own one day?”

Your expression shuttered and went uncharacteristically blank, and Toji suddenly wished he could turn back time. His words must have come out strained, or maybe disapproving. He didn’t intend for them to sound like so, but something about them set your jaw tight and had your eyes drooping in what looked a lot like disappointment.

In a brief flash of self-pity, Toji found himself missing his wife. He missed having someone that would be patient with him in his foul moods and curt way of speaking. Someone who guided him through the tangled web of his emotions and helped him coax out something gentle and palatable instead. Toji wished he was better at whatever this was just so he had a chance at keeping you near him.

“I do,” you finally replied, but the words were hushed and dismissive in their finality. Toji couldn’t think of anything else to do but nod, lest he open his mouth again and dig himself deeper into something irreparable. He turned his attention over your shoulder and down the hall to where Megumi lay sleeping so he didn’t have to keep subjecting himself to how you were now looking at him like you wished he was something else.

“Well,” you started, and Toji hated how your voice was clipped and forcibly light. You stepped around him to reach for the front door. “It’s late, and I want to make sure we all get some rest. I’ll see you two later, yeah?”

You were already mostly out the door by the time Toji was able to call out a goodbye and you disappeared with a quick flash of your fingers. Resignation lingered in the air after you left and it made Toji feel like he had done something very wrong.

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If you thought about it hard enough, you really had no one else to blame but yourself for the maelstrom of your emotions.

It was almost frightening how quickly disappointment had tempered the giddiness that crackled under your skin that evening in Toji’s house. He looked like he had seen a ghost when you mentioned your love of children. His question had come out sounding like he had swallowed rocks, gargled and strained and like it took every ounce of his effort to get the words off his tongue. When you had confirmed it for him—that you wanted children one day—his nostrils flared wide and the entirety of him tensed so visceral that it looked painful. You had kindly seen yourself out at that point as you were certain his body had unknowingly entered a state somewhere in between flight or fight, and you didn’t wish to aggravate it further.

If his reaction to a question that didn’t have anything to do with him at all on the surface—maybe the underlying tension was a cause for that—then you didn’t know why it felt like the floor had fallen out from under your feet, or why your stomach had dropped so heavily it actually pained you. But that was a lie, and you knew that somewhere in the last six months you had grown inexplicably attached to Toji Fushiguro and his six year old son. It wasn’t quite that you had already picked out names for children that had your hair and his eyes, but the possibility of something more with him had felt so close to fruition, almost tangible in your grasp, that having the hope of it dashed so suddenly was crushing in its own right. You would not bend in your desires for your life, at least not one so significant as that, but neither would you expect Toji to give himself to something that he didn’t want, not when it would require all of him.

So, as you had read about but never quite experienced, maybe there wasn’t anything quite as painful as “almost.” When you had returned home that evening, your first stop had been your shower as it was the most proper place to wail about opportunities missed and allowed for the dramatics towards a situation not yet fully understood because it all could be washed away with the swirl of a drain. And, in your most infinite wisdom, the only way to recover from such a figurative loss was to choose the mature path and avoid the thing that caused the pain in the hopes that detachment would prevent any further attachment.

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The longer Toji stared at his phone with his thumb hovering over the button that would dial your name, the more imbecilic he felt.

He had been skirting around you for the same amount of time you had been acting weird (three weeks and two days, but he wasn’t keeping count), but when Megumi looked up at him this morning with a pouty lip and imploring eyes, begging him to invite the pretty and kind neighbor over for his birthday this weekend, Toji knew he was going to be have to be the one to wave the metaphorical white flag.

For what exactly? He had no idea. But clearly, his son had gotten just as attached to you as Toji was, and he couldn’t blame Megumi at all for it. Not when you always stopped to listen when he spoke, remembered the name of his favorite stuffed animals, and asked about his best friend Yuji. Even more so now that Megumi had figured out you kept a stash of his favorite snacks in your pantry for whenever he found himself over there, a frequency that had been increasing until lately.

Toji hadn’t really minded having to go over to your house and fetch his kid, not when he could wager with himself (the only form of gambling he permitted nowadays) on what you’d be wearing when he walked through the doors. Sometimes it was the well-tailored fabric of your work clothes, and other times it was some combination of skin skimming pants and shirt that was somehow just as appealing as the little dress that swung around your hips with every step. You had knocked the wind out of him with that one a while back.

Yet, all of that was negated by the fact that you had started to distance yourself ever since that night you babysat Megumi. After stewing over the stilted conversation for the rest of the night after you left, Toji chalked it up to nothing more than an awkward misunderstanding. Though on the following Monday, when you had come home early from work while he and Megumi had been playing outside, you offered nothing more than a brief wave and a smile that seemed less enthusiastic than normal before shutting yourself inside for the evening. Megumi had looked as dejected as Toji felt and to their frustration, the rest of your interactions followed suit.

To make things increasingly worse, on Tuesday evening just last week, Toji happened by the opened window in his living room and saw a car a whole tax bracket nicer than his sidle up to your driveway. You had gotten out, smartly dressed, and a tall man equally well clothed had stepped out of the driver’s side. The two of you chatted animatedly the whole walk to your house, but Toji had turned away before he could witness whatever was about to happen on your doorstep.

The memory had him angrily mashing his thumb into the dial button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” you answered on the fourth ring. Your voice was still light and chipper, but lacked the warmth and enthusiasm you usually held for him.

“Got time to talk?” Nerves had Toji reaching straight to the point. “Megumi’s with Yuji for the next little bit.”

A beat or two passed before you answered, but it was long enough that Toji squirmed in his seat on the couch. “Sure. I’ll come over there?”

Toji gave you the same instructions as last time: to let yourself in. Two minutes later the knob of his front door was twisting, and he was up in a flash. You greeted him with a half-hearted grin as you stepped over the doorway, and he held his arm out to direct you to the couch.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” he said bluntly as he closed the front door behind you.

You winced, shame making your cheeks warm. You took a seat and Toji plopped down next to you on the couch just as you got settled in, and the weight of him dipped the cushion enough that you slid a little closer to him. You righted yourself before speaking. “Ah. You noticed?”

Toji looked thoroughly unimpressed and none too pleased, and in the silence you swallowed thickly. His living room suddenly became the most interesting thing. The TV stand against the front wall only held the large flat screen and nothing else. The window to the left of the room looked out over the street. In front of the sofa was a pale wooden coffee table with a half-done puzzle. In the corner to the right of the TV, there was a shelf layered with some knick knacks, a couple of Megumi’s books, and if you squinted hard enough, you could just make out a small framed photo of Toji and a woman with dark hair.

“I felt like I had hit a nerve unknowingly that night, and I didn’t want to linger around and make you uncomfortable,” you finally admitted when the quiet became too much. Toji had been watching you with those unnerving eyes of his and he let out a stream of breath as he leaned back against the sofa. He laid his arm across the back of it and when his fingers landed just a hair's breadth from your shoulders, you would have sworn they twitched outwards to try and graze your shirt.

“Maybe a little,” Toji said, scratching at the back of his head with his other hand,“but you didn’t know, and that’s not on you.” His eyebrows furrowed and it seemed like he was concentrating on something, maybe remembering something you had said. “Aren’t you scared?”

It was your turn to give him a quizzical brow, and while you weren’t sure where exactly he was going with the question, you had no doubt about what he was asking. “About having children?”

Toji nodded and you let out a little noise of understanding. He watched as you tilted your head to one side, peered up at his ceiling and chewed at the corner of your lip as you collected your thoughts. You drew your feet up onto the sofa, facing him, and pulled your knees to your chest to relax further into the corner, and Toji had to fight the urge to nudge you into speaking. Your toes wiggled from where they sat just a half foot away from his leg.

“Maybe a little,” you considered, and Toji’s face slackened. “I’m sure you know that having them is a huge change and an enormous responsibility, but it’s worth it, no? In the same vein, I’d be scared of not having them even though I want to just because I’m nervous. I think having to live with such significant regret would be just as terrifying—at least for me. But that’s part of life, isn’t it? Doing the things that scare us because we want the chance of happiness that they could bring?”

He studied you, seemingly perplexed by your decision and his inability to understand it, but you didn’t squirm under his gaze and you willed yourself to remain quiet in the hopes that he would respond. His fingers behind you thrummed against the sofa, and his eyes darted once to the picture frame on the shelf.

“My wife died giving birth to Megumi, or right after technically.” Toji saw from the corner of his eye how your face fell, but you didn’t open your mouth to offer your condolences, so the rest of the story—his tragic past (minus the parts about the things that went bump in the night. That was for another time)—spilled out without a hope from him to stop it. By the time he was done, Toji’s nails were clawed into the fabric covering his knees, and at some point you had shimmied across the sofa closer to him so you could rest a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, voice delicate and just above a whisper. The emotional aspect of it all made it feel like his skin was crawling, but Toji worked past the sensation. “I hope I didn’t come across as insensitive earlier. All those words only apply to me and how I feel. Your choices for your future, no matter what they are, are plenty valid.” You ducked your head down to meet his eyes better, and when his met yours, the sorrow in them made your chest ache.

“I owe you another apology,” you added sheepishly, and when Toji opened his mouth to disagree, you moved the hand from his arm to hold it up to him in hopes he’d hear you out. “I acted poorly. Childishly.”

You suddenly looked everywhere but at him, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again. “I was being presumptuous in thinking that my decision to have children one day would matter to you. I got ahead of myself.” The whole thing felt very reminiscent of grade school “love” confessions and secret meetings. Hot embarrassment made your palms sweat and you itched to flee to the shelter of your home.

Next to you, Toji made a wounded little noise in the back of his throat, and his spine stiffened when understanding hit him and he realized that—no matter how far-fetched it seemed at the moment—you had considered him in a glimpse of your future. The image of it, something that he hadn’t seen for himself since the day his wife died, appeared in his mind and nearly stole his breath away.

Megumi. A wife—you this time. Children. Happiness and peace. The same terror that it could all be ripped away and he would be left alone again.

If he had you, Toji knew he wouldn’t be able to deny you anything, but there would be no solace for him those entire nine months, and even after, should he find himself in the same shoes again. Tentative excitement and abject fear would war inside of him from the moment the two of you would commit to the idea, and if he was lucky, maybe it would abate in some reasonable amount of time after you delivered his child and lived long enough to enjoy it with him.

Toji knew the odds of such a tragedy occurring again was low, but likelihoods and probabilities mattered little when he already knew their worst case outcome.

“But that’s part of life, isn’t it? Doing the things that scare us because we want the chance of happiness that they could bring?”

“Presumptuousness is okay sometimes,” Toji murmured, and though your expression was hopeful, you shook your head once.

“Maybe,” you conceded, and he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. He could see as doubt trickled into your features and turned down the corner of your lips. “The topic of children isn’t something to be left undecided or uncertain.” Your lips stayed apart and moved slightly even though nothing came out.

“I like you,” you breathed out once you seemed to regain yourself, and hearing the words out loud was a balm to Toji’s ears. “But I’m not willing to sacrifice my own happiness, not for something like this. And that’s okay. It’s also okay if you don’t want them, but that means this,” you gestured between him and yourself, “doesn’t go any father and that there’s someone else out there for each of us.”

The memory of the man walking you to your door left a horribly bitter taste in his mouth, but Toji knew it wasn’t jealousy or possessiveness that drove his desire for you. The craving for domestic bliss, to have a person that loved him and his son had him yearning to pull you close, but the anticipation of something sinister lurking and waiting to snatch it away made him falter.

“It’s not that I don’t want them,” Toji said, and he made sure to hold your eyes with his. “I’m scared of what happens if history repeats itself.”

When he turned his head again to the shelf in the corner, the conversation and his reactions from that night seemed to make more sense. And now, when Toji stared at you in a way that was a little helpless and a little entreating, you were powerless to do anything but give into the thrill that hopefulness brought forth.

“Well, your fear isn’t unfounded,” you told him gently, and he nodded in agreement, “though I’d like to think that this would be worth it.” You let your hand drop onto his and used your nails to scratch gently on the back of it. Tension bled out from his shoulders and Toji shifted forward just so he could be close enough to share the same air as you.

Perhaps the emotional turmoil of a tragedy passed wouldn’t cease to exist overnight, but if hopeful optimism could be found in the eyes of a person who set one’s heart alight, then maybe the two of you would be just fine.

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Time seemed to move slowly and all at once from that afternoon, and each interaction afterwards brought forth an emotion well known but newly rediscovered in light of emerald eyes and a scar in the corner of smirking lips.

Humor when Toji had wandered off to the kitchen after your talk to get a glass of water and surreptitiously inquired about the man in a suit at your door last week. There was a clatter of dishes when you made a casual off-hand remark about the quality of the view from his window, and when he returned to you without a glass in hand, looking like he was trying very hard to appear nonchalant, you couldn’t help but giggle at his expense. You had to explain that the man in a suit was just your boss dropping you off after a conference and that he came to the door to receive the gift you had for him and his wife to celebrate the arrival of their new baby. Toji had looked a little embarrassed by the end of your explanation.

Disappointment when you found out Megumi’s birthday coincided with a non-negotiable event at work and you’d have to miss it. You weren’t sure whose face was harder to look at when they each turned their pouting lips and begging eyes on you. However, when you had knocked on the door late in the evening on Megumi’s birthday, a little breathless and carrying a balloon and gourmet cupcake, the little boy had thrown himself at your legs in a fit of giddy laughter. Toji looked at you with a swirl of emotion on his face, something heady and warm, appreciative and awe-struck, a little bit adoring at the frazzled aura surrounding you.

Abject disbelief a month later when Toji told you about things that went bump in the night and about a school that was a lot more than it seemed. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the concept, but Toji answered any question you had, even if apprehension made him want to grab onto you and never let you go. Somehow, for some reason, you accepted it well enough with the promise that you didn’t talk about it unless absolutely necessary. Toji assured you, with a grin that was confident and proud, that he was there to ensure nothing ever happened to you.

Love-sick even though it might have been too soon when Toji wrapped a large hand around your wrist after you said your goodbyes to him underneath the golden glow of his porch light. Megumi was already in bed, tired from a day spent out playing in fresh February snow, and when Toji tipped your head back to kiss you, the size of him became so apparent up close that it had butterflies erupting in your stomach. His hand could span your cheek while his fingers threaded into your hair. He bowed over you when his other hand pressed into your back to arch you into him, then his arm followed to encircle your waist in a grip that was ironclad. Toji chased after you when you pulled away to take in a gulp of air, and you knew right then that refusing him was never something you’d be very good at.

When the days were still cold and Megumi could only tolerate being outside so long before the tip of his nose froze pink, most of your time together was spent cuddled on one of your couches as an endless list of movies played on the TV. Sometimes Toji would be situated in the middle with Megumi splayed across his lap and you tucked under his arm, a blanket thrown across all of you. Other times, your feet would lay on Toji’s thighs while Megumi sat back against your chest. On nights Toji would fall asleep mid-movie and his snores would be too loud to continue, you and Megumi would find yourselves in the kitchen waiting for hot chocolate to bubble on the stove while you listened to him chatter animatedly about whatever happened at school the previous day. When the hot chocolate finally cooled enough to sip on without scalding your tongues, Toji would shuffle his way into the kitchen. Megumi would be perched atop the island, legs kicking happily, and you would be leaning up against. Toji’s eyes would still be bleary with sleep, but you’d offer him your mug and he’d drop a kiss to your hair and let his hand grip at your waist.

When the weather began to warm enough in the late spring, many an evening the three of you would sit on a blanket in the grass of a nearby park. Megumi would throw a ball or fly a kite, and you would recline in between Toji’s bent legs with a book in hand. On more than one occasion he’d stop you as you began to turn a page, and you realized that he’d been reading along from where his chin was perched on your shoulder.

“You read too quickly,” Toji huffed, and he lifted his hand so he could flick back the page with his thumb. You angled your head back to glance at him and he used the opportunity to place a kiss on your temple.

“I wasn’t aware you were following along.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to see what about it kept hogging all your attention.” Toji’s fingers danced up and down your rib cage and you shrunk back into his chest to try and flee from the tickling sensation. “Turns out it’s just some sappy romance,” he complained.

When you recovered from laughter that pained your sides, you settled upright and brushed the hair from your face. “I’ll have you know it should get quite interesting in the next couple chapters.” You kept your voice innocently flirtatious, but Toji caught the insinuation nonetheless, and you could feel the deep hum in his chest against your back.

As it turned out, sex was hard to come by when there was a six year old running around the house, careers to be worked for the both of you, and limited time for just the two of you. There had been nothing more for the two of you than stolen kisses around a hallway corner when Megumi was eating lunch in Toji’s kitchen and lingering looks promising something more when given the chance.

Toji must have finally had enough just a couple weeks later when he had called to inform you on a Friday afternoon that Megumi would be gone at Yuji’s for a couple of hours. You were just leaving work and had promised to be over in the shortest time you could manage, but it still felt like an eternity by the time you had stopped by your house to freshen up and change before knocking on his door. Not a second passed before he was wrenching it open and tugging you inside with a grin that was downright wicked.

As soon as the door to his bedroom slammed shut, Toji peeled your shirt off while kissing down your neck as you fumbled with the button of his jeans. You snuck your fingers up under his shirt to run them over the muscles of his lower abdomen, and when he shivered in response you felt pride well up under your skin, but that faded quickly when Toji cupped you under your thighs to lift you and spread them around his hips. When he turned and fell back against the bed, you laughed as you caught yourself on his chest, and the smile that stretched his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes had him looking boyish, and the sight of him below you had you tearing the rest of your clothes away in a hurry.

Toji was impressive in every aspect of himself as you would now know, but you didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the matter when his hands were on your breasts and his lips sucked a mark just below your collarbone. He made space for himself between your legs and kissed you softly when the size of him knocked your breath away. He remained patiently still until you rolled your hips up against his and tore a moan from both your throats, and he didn’t let you know a moment’s peace until his name rang from your mouth at least three times.

The sun was almost set when Toji’s phone pinged with a text from Yuji’s dad that they were on their way to drop Megumi off. He groaned in exhaustion from where his head rested on your stomach, and you could tell he was reluctant to pull away from how your fingers scratched at his head. With no time to waste, you managed to claw yourself out from under him to slip back into your clothes even though you had to bat away his wandering hands every other minute. Toji was quite proud of himself when he managed to steal away another couple minutes of kissing you senseless. Luckily, he had just finished pulling on his shirt as the two of you made it to the living room as the doorbell rang.

You watched with an amused smile as Megumi staggered inside with his backpack falling off one shoulder. The poor kid was clearly worn out from a day playing out in the sun, so much so that he could only give you a half-hearted wave as Toji directed him towards his room to get ready for bed.

When Toji came back from tucking in Megumi, you didn’t get up to gather your things and say your goodbyes. Instead, Toji leaned over the back of the couch to kiss you and whisper something in your ear that had you flushing hot from head to toe, and you didn’t resist when he led you back to his bedroom so that the two of you could indulge in one another all over again, albeit much quieter that time around.

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

You woke the next morning with a quick inhalation of air through your nose, your body still attuned to the internal clock of the work week. Even though it was Saturday and the sky had just begun to blush pink, your mind urged you out of restfulness. You stretched the languidness from your muscles and took note of all the places where soreness twinged, and in favor of chasing the last remnants of blissful sleep, you rolled from your side onto your stomach and buried your face into the plushness of the pillow below.

A puff of pine scented shampoo wafted into your nose and you blinked the rest of the room into awareness. You were not in your bed; you weren’t even in your own home, and the unfamiliar sounds around you came into focus. A fan thrummed faintly, a breeze rushed past the windows and drowned out any early noise from the street, and Toji snored softly to your right. His charcoal colored sheets were tangled up under his arms, and you recalled having to fight him for them in the middle of the night when you woke up shivering only to find out that he had a penchant for hogging the blankets. Toji hadn’t even budged at your attempts to yank them out from under him, and you eventually gave up in favor of snuggling in as close to him as you could. Thankfully, your skin sliding against his roused him enough to lift an arm for you to tuck yourself under, and you sighed at the warmth of him, your insides going soft when he curled his arm around your back so his hand could engulf your hip. You fell back asleep almost immediately after.

At some point in the night you had drifted away from him, and now, as you were able to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest and noticed how his fingers twitched occasionally, you knew that every night you’d spend in your own bed alone would feel empty and unfulfilling. While staying overnight hadn’t been unplanned—Toji had insisted—what happened in the morning hadn’t been discussed, and you became acutely aware of the fact that there was a little boy sleeping a couple rooms down who would, most likely, be waking with the rising sun, and you had no clue as to how his father wanted to proceed.

You sat up slowly, keeping the sheet clutched over your chest, and you scanned the floor of Toji’s bedroom to locate all articles of your clothing that you had shed the previous night. You had no intention of sneaking out, not when that alone would be detrimental to the newly cemented relationship, but you would feel more prepared for the conversation upcoming if it wasn’t done in the nude. With a swing of your legs, you made a move to push yourself off the bed, but a rustle of sheets behind you, followed by the feel of Toji’s hand skimming up your arm made you pause.

“You leaving?” His voice was still roughened with sleep, and when you looked back over your shoulder at him, he was using his other hand to rub at his eyes.

“No,” you said simply, “not yet. Just getting dressed.”

Toji’s fingers tightened around the top of your arm and he tugged gently. You didn’t hesitate to follow and fall back into him. He curled you into his chest and you shivered in delight when the fingers of the arm you rested your head on found their way into your hair while his left hand reached across his body to squeeze at your waist. A pleasant sigh lifted and lowered Toji’s chest when you skimmed your fingers across it, and you had the briefest curiosity for finding out if he was as eager for you this morning as he had been last night. When he suddenly rolled on top of you and you parted your legs to make room for him, the answer became evident, because yes, he certainly was. Toji’s nose found itself in your neck as lips nuzzled into your skin, and the deep inhale he took of you made you ache. All of him was distracting, enticing in every way, and the feel of the muscles in his back shifting under your fingertips nearly had you forgetting any rational thought aside from having him again. But when the yellowing sunlight began to filter in through the window as his hands pushed up your thighs, mindfulness took the place of lust and you cleared your throat pointedly.

“I hate to interrupt,” you whispered, and Toji paused in his pursuit of being inside of you, “but it’s almost daylight, and Megumi…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say—how to broach such a subject—and Toji made a low noise of disappointment in your ear before letting go of your legs. He lifted his head to look at you, and wiggled out from under him to sit up. You brought your knees to your chest and fiddled with the sheet around your ankles while Toji fell onto his back with a huff next to your side. The pout on his lips amused you.

“I wasn’t sure if you were ready for him to see me with you this early in the morning, especially in yesterday’s clothes.” Toji sighed and lifted his hands to rest them under his head, and you could tell indecision warred in his mind. “I’m not against slipping out and going back home. I’d understand,” you offered to him.

“That feels kinda wrong though,” he said, and the inside of his cheek caved as he bit down on it. He removed one hand from behind his head to trail his fingers down your spine and you shrugged lightly.

“It’s alright. We can talk with him later.” Toji finally nodded and blew a breath of air out of the corner of his mouth before sitting up to press a kiss to your lips. His eyes were bright when you pulled away.

“Want to come back after a while and take the kid to breakfast?” he asked. A grin took over your face and you bit down on your lip as you nodded.

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll head back and you can let me know once he’s up.” You narrowed your eyes at Toji in feigned annoyance. “I need a little bit to clean up , anyway.” He smirked, clearly proud of himself and not at all ashamed, and you squeaked out a noise of surprise when he launched himself at you.

An hour and a half later found you back at the Fushiguro residence, freshly showered and dressed for a morning out. You didn’t bother knocking, and you had just opened your mouth to announce your presence when you heard bickering from down the hall.

“It doesn’t matter what shade of blue your shirt is, Megs.” Exasperation was barely hidden in Toji’s voice. “Just put this one on so we can go.”

“It does too,” Megumi argued, and you could clearly imagine the way Toji and his son mirrored each other's stances, arms crossed and lips twisted in a scowl as they stood adamant against the other. You giggled to yourself as you made your way down the hallway.

“Put this one on, Megumi. I gave you a choice, but now I’m choosing. This one matches your pants just fine.”

“Nuh uh. I don’t like it.”

Toji sputtered. “But you told me to grab them!”

You popped your head into Megumi’s room and rapped your knuckles against the door to get their attention. “Trouble getting ready?”

Megumi spun to face you, and Toji turned to you with a heavy sigh of relief. Stress twitched a muscle in his cheek, and you took notice of the repeated clenching of his fist. Nothing else about his appearance though could betray his anger or frustration, and you knew the amount of self control and effort it took for him to patiently parent his son. When his eyes turned helpless, you crouched down in front of Megumi.

“Not sure which shirt to wear?” you asked, and the little boy nodded shyly. You hummed in understanding and reached out to take one of the shirts that Toji held in his hand. You brought it close to you and held it up against the fabric of your dress, something light and casual for the morning, and lowered your head to peer into Megumi’s eyes.

“How about this one,” you offered, “I think it’s nice, and it nearly matches the color of my dress. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Megumi’s expression lit up and he held his hands out eagerly for the shirt of choice. After passing it to him you stood, smiling softly at Toji as he mouthed a ‘thank you’ and then backed out of the room. “I’ll wait for you guys out here.”

Just as you made it halfway back down the hall, you heard Megumi sigh in a way that sounded years older than he was.

“Your choice was ugly anyway, Dad.”

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

Y'all, I swear I reread my fics to proof and edit them, but surely I'll find a mistake every run through, so please forgive me for any that I didn't catch.

Thank you for reading if you do<3

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader

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blackch-rry · 9 months

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Moment of Peace (Or Lack Thereof)

Pairing: Shy!Vampire!Sunghoon x Werewofl!Reader

Summary: Sunghoon finds himself caught in a moment of weakness thinking you and him are home alone. Keeping your relationship private has been easy, but not until Niki stumbles upon it.

Warnings: none, really. One swear word. Fluff?? Niki being a lil snitch. Sunghoon’s peace being disturbed for the unseeable future.

WC: 0.973k

A/N: I’ve been trying to write a vampire x werewolf au, Romeo and Juliet type vibes between reader and Sunghoon, but i just had to write this scene out first. Not really connected, but same type of world! …but if i do write a fic about it, it would be ten times more angst. This is also written on zero hours of sleep.

***

“I thought you said she wasn’t allowed on the couch.”

Sunghoon’s attention is ripped away from his book. His eyes land on Niki, who is standing near the bottom of the stairs. A playful grin on the younger’s face as he glances between your sleeping form and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon removes the hand that was mindlessly petting your wolf form. He rests it on the back of the couch instead. He looks at the younger boy, an unexpected hint of embarrassment caught in his words, “It’s whatever…just go somewhere else.”

Niki manages to suppress his laughter at the sight of him. He’s quick to realize that Sunghoon is indeed very embarrassed; like a kid getting caught in the act of doing something he shouldn’t. It’s the way Sunghoon is looking back at the pages of his book, blankly staring in one spot as if waiting for Niki to leave, that confirms it.

Niki has never wanted to make fun of him this much in his life, but he decides not to. Growing into his maturity and all. One thing catches him off guard. He’s never seen Sunghoon this shy before. Niki expected him to yell at him to mind his own business, but instead he’s met with a silent Sunghoon. Niki wonders if it’s because you’re sleeping and he doesn’t want to wake you.

Huh… Sunghoon? Him and his love for scolding? He actually cares about not disturbing your sleep…

Niki feels like he’s missing something. Something very important.

He begins to wonder if you are also the reason for Sunghoon’s shift in behavior the past months. God, he’s practically itching to ask and tease him about it. About you.

Reluctantly, Niki just glances between the two of you, a furrow in his brow, before sauntering off towards another part of the house.

Sunghoon watches him leave through his peripheral vision. He waits until he can no longer hear his footsteps before letting his body relax, tension visibly seeping off. The book falls to a gentle close; his thumb keeping his place. He leans his head back against the couch before peering down at you. Still asleep with your head resting on Sunghoon’s thigh.

He himself feels surprised at his behavior. The weird way his jaw clenched when he heard Niki’s voice, or the heat that coursed throughout his body being seen like this. Going against his own words. Caught in a moment of vulnerability and giving in when you sat by his feet and looked at him expectantly just hours prior. He’s embarrassed. (Which is something he’s not used to).

He thought the guys were out of the house, doing their own things. That’s why he let you climb up without hesitation, because he’s done it numerous times before. The newfound side of him that allows himself to give in to you, get distracted by all of you, was something that he wanted private, not let the other guys know. They didn’t need to know. Not about how he’s no longer strict and cold towards you, or how one part of him wants to feel affectionate towards you without hiding it from the others.

He groans, already irritated just thinking about how Niki is probably snitching on him right now. Sunghoon isn’t fond of his peace being disturbed. He has a gut feeling he won’t be finding a moment of peace anytime soon, at least not with just you and him.

His hand slowly finds its way back to you, gently running down your side, his fingers playing with your relaxed ears at times. He’s just glad you didn’t wake up, that you didn’t see the hint of pink creeping up on his face, because he knows that if you did and shifted back to your human form…He’d be more irritated than ever seeing an amused smile on your pretty face.

Sunghoon decides to pick up where he left off in his book and relish in the warmth on his thigh before his moment of peace is washed away by a storm.

***

Niki did in fact snitch on him mere minutes after.

“He was the one so against it! Fucking hypocrite!”, Jake peers into one of the windows, trying to see if it’s true, but ultimately just focuses back on the circle they’ve all formed.

Sunghoon was almost right about one thing. Everyone was out of the house, besides Niki. After the younger vampire scurried off, he caught a glimpse of the others coming back from the main village. The gossip circle was quickly formed shortly after.

Jake begins again, “Aren’t I right? He did tell us to not let her on the couch whenever she’s shifted.”

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.”

“Huh?”

“He’s had this crush forming on her for months. You know how he is, he’d never be upfront about it. Definitely not in front of us.”

“What?!”

“I totally knew it.”

“Dude, no you didn’t!”

The six of them quickly start to overlap in arguments. Not being aware of their volume. It’s not until a couple minutes pass and the sound of the side door being opened catches their attention.

You, now in your human form, stand in the doorway wearing an oversized shirt. You give them a skeptical look, questioning what they’re up to despite the fact you heard everything. A blessing, and somewhat curse, of heightened hearing.

“You guys are being very loud out here.”

“Oh- uh, sorry?”

You glance around at their bewildered expressions before smiling to yourself. Sorry to Sunghoon, but he’s about to be a very irritated man.

“And just to clear the air, Sunghoon and I have been dating for a month.”

You hastily walk back into the house, escaping the scene of the crime, but the six of them are quick to follow with more overlapping remarks of shock.

#enhypen x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #enhypen fics #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen au #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #park sunghoon #vampire sunghoon #enhypen fluff

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slytherhys · 1 year

Text

Keeping Secrets

Prompt: Cassian's allergies help him solve a mystery.

A/N: After a long writing slump I have returned with yet another Elriel fic. If you guys like it I might write a part II about elriel's not-so-secretive rendezvous... 🤭

Cassian couldn’t help but think, as he looked out the window from Rhys’s new office, that the City of Starlight was a sight to behold when painted in the colours of Spring.

Flowers seemed to bloom in every corner, painting the cobblestone pavement in purples and blues and pinks, greenery following close behind. Their fragrance spread through the streets as the sun shone brighter, its light sparkling against the surface of the Sidra. People walked to and fro the Palaces, laughter and joy in their voices as they visited their favourite shops and enjoyed the warmer temperatures. It wasn’t Cassian’s favourite season, but he had to admit it was a nice reprieve from the bitter cold winter they’d had to endure the past few months.

Besides, Spring in Velaris was never a nuisance to him – despite his allergies, it was rare that he would so much as sneeze.

Even if today, for some reason, Cassian couldn’t stop fucking sniffling.

Rhys eyed him with a raised brow, sending the tissue box on his desk a pointed look - like he had done many, many times since he had first arrived. Cassian pointedly ignored him.

“The season doesn’t seem to agree with you, brother.” The asshole said, pushing the tissue box in his direction.

Cassian pointedly ignored that as well, sniffling indignantly and moving away from the window – even if it did little to relieve him. The entire office smelled like those damned flowers, making his nose run and itch like it did on the rare occasions where he had been unfortunate enough to visit the Spring Court.

It was Elain’s fault, really. When he had first gotten to the River House - albeit an hour early - he wasn’t entirely expecting her to be the first person he’d see. He knew well enough the garden in the back was being tended to by her - something he clearly had failed to remember when he pulled Elain into a warm hug, pressing a small kiss to her cheek before setting her down. Needless to say before he could even say hi Cassian was sneezing - not once, not twice but three times. Elain had laughed softly, apologising and explaining that she had received a new batch of flowers that she had just carried to the back to plant for the first time. Her sister, of course, would be the one getting the flowers first. For her kindness, El had explained.

He adored Elain - truly, he did. He just couldn’t understand why, exactly, he couldn’t stop sneezing and sniffling hours after being near her.

He had gotten better for just a few moments - just until Rhys and Azriel barged into the office. Rhys first, frown on his face that he assumed had something to do with Nyx (apparently the High Lord didn’t like the fact his son’s first words had been mama ), and Azriel just a few minutes later, looking more flushed than Cassian had ever seen him. He had questioned neither - he definitely didn’t ask any of them why they’d both been over 15 minutes late to a meeting that was going to end up being nearly two hours long.

So what if he had to leave Nesta in their bed, forgoing her morning cuddles in favour of a stupid meeting that they’d both been late too? So what if every minute they were late meant another minute away from her? Cassian wouldn’t point it out. He was a General, the Commander of the Night Court’s armies - he was above such petty feelings and childish grudges.

He sniffled - indignantly, of course, not because of his allergies - stepping further away from the windows once Rhysand finally concluded their meeting. “Well, I know you both have no concept of time, but I plan to meet Nesta by the Sidra for lunch, and I'm already fifteen minutes late.”

He was above such petty feelings and childish grudges most times .

Rhys smirked, opening the door of his office, not even bothering to acknowledge his remark as he leisurely strolled down the hallway, hands inside his pockets in a show of ease that had taken him centuries to achieve. Cassian fought the urge to remind him of his younger years and all the embarrassing shit their High Lord had done, just for the sake of it. He was a good friend, after all.

Azriel followed close behind, Cassian grumbling as he joined him, following Rhys to the foyer.

“You don’t seem to be in a good mood, brother.” Azriel smirked slightly, his flushed skin glowing. But before he could remark on that unusual occurrence, Cassian sneezed.

Four times.

Azriel grinned.

“And why are you in such a good mood?” He muttered, surreptitiously reaching into his pocket for a tissue he had stolen earlier when no one was watching, observing Azriel with a critical eye. Because he truly was in a good mood - which was odd, to say the least. Besides the flushed skin, his hair seemed rumpled, and even if the bags under his eyes seemed more pronounced than ever, there was a glitter to his hazel eyes that told Cassian it wasn’t exactly nightmares keeping him up at night. Even his leathers seemed more rumpled than ever, dirt under his boots and…was that a flower pressed on the toe of his left boot?

He also hadn’t missed the fact that Azriel had chosen to follow Rhys and leave through the front door like a normal person, instead of simply flying out the open balcony like he usually did.

Cassian frowned. “Late night, brother?” He asked, just as they reached the kitchen. Azriel’s expression betrayed nothing, his face as stoic as ever.

“Early morning.” He mumbled, a light twitch to his lips. There and gone in a second. Cassian narrowed his eyes, failing to understand what that actually meant, but the sound of two familiar voices stopped him from probing.

Feyre and Elain stood by the doors leading to the gardens, talking softly and laughing until they both noticed their presence. Cassian felt, rather than saw, Azriel go still next to him as he eyed them both, eyes assessing as they usually did. Rhys, however, seemed to relax - like he always did - as soon as his mate’s eyes found his, pulling her into a kiss that felt more intimate than it should’ve been in the presence of three other people. Feyre giggled, slapping him softly in the chest, a blush taking over her pretty face as they spoke softly with each other.

Cassian quickly looked away, choosing to eye Elain instead. She, too, had a healthy blush to her cheeks, her hair a bit messy, a loose bun keeping it from going to her face. Her hands were playing with the straw hat she was holding, eyes flickering between him and Azriel, something secretive shining in them as she watched them both.

Cassian ignored the tingling in his nose. “How are the new flowers coming along, El?” He smiled at his sister-in-law, not missing the happiness in her entire expression that seemed to grow every day that passed, just as she found her place in their court. The last few months, especially.

Elain’s cheeks darkened further, her eyes widening slightly as she stared up at him. “Oh,” she laughed nervously. “Very well, thank you.” She said as she reached for her hair, letting it down softly as her eyes flickered to her sister and Rhys, quickly turning back to Azriel and Cassian when she saw them kissing once more. The scent that had followed him to the office earlier hit him full force again just as she let her hair down and before he could even mutter his confusion, he was sneezing again. Once, twice, three times.

Elain smiled apologetically, but Cassian was entirely too focused on something else to even notice. A small flower , woven into her hair. A familiar sight, he thought, just one he couldn’t exactly place.

Before he could think about it, he was reaching for it, taking Elain and himself by surprise with his sudden move.

“You have something-” He trailed off, holding the small blue flower in his hand, trying to place it.

“Oh.” Elain chuckled softly, taking a step back as if to protect him from any more sneezing. He was grateful for it. “It’s the new flowers we got today.” She explained, smiling sweetly. “I spent the entire morning planting them in Feyre’s gardens.”

Cassian frowned, eyeing Elain again. “Are you sure we don’t have these somewhere else?”

Elain laughed, Az going suddenly very quiet. Cassian eyed him, oddly feeling as if he had been handed the easiest puzzle piece and still failing it somehow. “I’m sure, Cass. I ordered them specifically for Feyre’s new gardens a few months ago.” She eyed them both quizzically, something flashing in her eyes as she looked at Azriel, eyes widening comically as she backtracked. “Or… Or maybe I got some for Nesta? It’s happened before-”

“No, that’s not it.” He shook his head, eyeing Azriel closely. His daring eyes, his clothes, his boots…

And the fucking blue flower pressed to the toe of them.

Cassian felt his eyes widen, his heart beating loudly before his brain could even catch up with what his body had already figured out.

“Holy fuck, are you-” the rest of his words muffled by Azriel’s scarred hands, silenced by the flashing in the shadowsinger’s eyes that warned him about the dangers of even thinking about whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

Elain looked entirely too calm - if only not for the panic in her pretty eyes as she eyed them both, unsure of what to say. Cassian wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her explain anything, if he was being honest.

Her flushed skin, her rumpled hair… Not only from spending an entire morning working under the heat of the sun. The flower in her hair, suspiciously identical to the one pressed against the toe of Azriel’s boot. Not the sole of it, but the toe , as if he had been kneeling …

Oh, he was going to be sick.

“What’s happening right now?” Feyre’s voice broke him out of his stupor, Azriel’s eyes flickering to their High Lady even if his hand remained pressed against his mouth. Cassian pushed his brother away, gasping for air. Had the asshole forgotten his stuffy nose or was he actually trying to kill him?

Rhys sighed. “Don’t worry yourself about them, Feyre darling.” He said, taking her hand in his and pulling her in the direction of the front door. “You all know where the door is, so please make use of it sooner rather than later.” He said over his shoulder, just before turning around and sending Elain a charming smile. “Except you, Elain. Make yourself at home.” And then he was gone, his mate under his arm as they strolled down the sidewalk.

Cassian stood dumbfounded, mouth gaping as his eyes flickered between the two people in front of him. Azriel simply rolled his eyes, as if Cassian was the one being dramatic. Elain simply tilted her head as she watched him with open curiosity.

He wanted to throttle them both.

“How long?” He sputtered. “How did it even… What…” He took a deep breath, rubbing his temples. “Are you guys out of your mind?” He whined. “If Rhys finds out-”

“He won’t.” Azriel said with deadly calm. As if it were truly that simple.

But Cassian was undeterred. “He will if you’re fucking in his garden, you genius.” He drawled, not missing how Elain pressed her face against Azriel’s stomach, trying to hide her laughter. As if it were funny . Cassian didn’t even blink at their sudden familiarity. As if, deep down, it simply made sense.

“He won’t find out, Cass.” He assured quietly, just as his hand reached out to play with her hair, stroking it, his eyes softening slightly as he looked down at the female next to him.

No, he couldn’t say he was surprised.

Sure, it had taken him by surprise, but not because he hadn’t seen it coming, he supposed. After months of odd behaviour from his brother, months of seeing him weirdly… content. Not to mention the fights over Elain’s privacy, the discomfort over Lucien’s presence…It was as if everything simply clicked.

He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. Nesta would become insufferable once she got wind of this.

“Does Lucien-”

“No.” But it wasn’t Azriel that interrupted him, even if his brother moved slightly, as if to protect Elain from his words. Elain’s voice, however, left no room for questions, almost daring him to ask anything else. Cassian knew she had already made herself clear over where she stood concerning Vanserra’s affection.

Cassian also knew what Nesta would do to him if he found out he had told his sister that she should take the male’s feelings into consideration. Such conversation had taken place when they had made a bet, only days after the solstice last year. I’m pretty sure they’re hooking up , Nesta had said casually as she watched Az and Elain talk softly on the other side of the room. Cassian had laughed - loudly - which eventually led to a bet being made. Nesta had looked entirely too smug when he had agreed to it, but he hadn’t even stopped to think about it.

He was seriously regretting his own life choices.

Cassian sighed. “I hope you guys know what you’re doing.”

Elain squared her shoulders, raising her chin as she looked at Cassian. Yet, she never once stepped away from Az. “We do.” She said, a quiet conviction to her voice that he wouldn’t dare question. She gulped, squeezing Azriel’s scarred hand. An assurance , Cassian realised.

That Az didn’t immediately pull his hand away was probably the most surprising thing happening in the past few hours.

“There are some choices that are worth being made, Cass.” She simply said, as if such words said enough already. Cassian supposed they did. To them at least. As if they contained a multitude of feelings, of secrets that no one could really understand but them - no matter how much others tried to question them.

Elain tilted her head, brown eyes assessing him in a way that made him question if she truly saw more than she let on. “No matter what or who might stand against them.”

A quiet promise, he presumed. A threat to those who weren’t even present to hear it, as if Elain was stealing herself and Az, for what lay ahead. Cassian wasn’t sure what to say, what assurances to offer, what support to give - not when the future seemed so uncertain to all of them.

But Cassian couldn’t worry about that right now - not when he had to tell Nesta she had won the bet.

Mother save him .

#elriel #pro elain #pro elriel #my writing #elriel fanfiction #elriel fic #elriel oneshot #elain x azriel #pro azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar oneshot #nesta x cassian #feyre x rhysand #elriel aesthetic #pro elain archeron #elain archeron #azriel

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cboffshore · 7 months

Text

*Chubbyemu voice* GLOOM DIVISION drops in four days. Here's what that's going to do to my Ninjago brain.

(IDKHOWers who see this: this ain't gonna make a LICK of sense to you. This one is for the Ninjago fans who know me already.)

TLDR: if you liked the Nadakhan analysis Fall Out Boy playlist I made, buckle up. It's about to get weirder, and I'm bringing a different band into the mix.

I'll keep this short. When IDKHOW dropped "INFATUATION" a few weeks (or should I say Weekes?) ago, a friend of mine in NWOD and I determined that it was practically a perfect Nadakhan song in every way. I'm not getting into that here, and honestly I may never, because that track is STUPID straightforward. Have a listen, maybe check out their social media posts on it, then come back and tell me I'm wrong:

youtube

Anyway, I'm giving "INFATUATION" a solid nine out of ten on the Is This A Nadakhan Song scale. I said practically perfect - there's room for improvement. Not a lot of space, but I have to give the other songs a fighting chance to make this worth it.

Obviously, I want to appreciate this album on its own first and foremost. That being said, since I'm on a self-imposed writing break, I do want to keep my Ninjago brain running. For that reason, the bonus game I'll play when GLOOM DIVISION drops for real is: are any other tracks a better fit for Nadakhan?

Here are my title-based predictions for the entire tracklist, with a side of advance review info from this article where necessary. Minor spoilers.

DOWNSIDE: Not sure how to feel about this one. Rumor has it it's done in a deeper register than normal, though, so that could be good for something.

GLOOMTOWN BRATS: Nope. I've already got this on my OSSAS playlist, it's clocked as a Nya song IMO.

INFATUATION: our baseline. If no other track hits the mark, this one will do just fine.

WHAT LOVE?: Also a nope. We've had this for months, and while there are certainly shades, I'm inclined to throw this at Jay instead, especially within the context of Skybound.

SPKOTHDVL: I'm pretty confident about this one, even if it's just tonally - the band teased this one as "SLEAZY GUITAR RIFFTOWN", and Cheeto bastard is nothing if not distilled sleaze.

SIXFT: The advance review article mentions this one is similar to IDKHOW'S other classic creepy tracks "Mx. Sinister" and "From The Gallows", which is VERY promising! Also, this one has been teased as "30s + 00s GARAGE ROCK", and we love a good genre blend when it comes to Nadakhan musical analysis.

FIND ME: Something about this title has me very confident in it. Can't say why, but the vibes work.

KISS & TELL: See above.

A LETTER: Hard no... for now. This song already exists, and while you COULD probably get it there through intense mental gymnastics, that's not the priority of the song. We'll let this one stay a happy fandom tradition until I inevitably get the itch to do something to it.

SATANIC PANIC: Hmmm. Name suggests mass hysteria and succumbing to influence; advance review calls the vocals "almost whispered" and notes that the track seems screamable at concerts and has a brass-and-bass intro. Sounds bombastic! I'm going to say this one's got a decent chance at beating "INFATUATION".

SUNNYSIDE: Another nope for now - what the article has to say makes me think this is better suited for Jay.

IDIOTS OF Oz: Seems cynical and mysterious, but the vibes are off. I guess we'll see!

#Ninjago Skybound #Ninjago Nadakhan #Lila speaks #idkhow #analysis freak lila back on her bullshit #gloom division

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nerves-nebula · 1 year

Note

To the last anon, when it comes to Rise crossovers with 12 and how they handle ‘healing’ its done in a ‘holy-than’ tone. Especially with newer fans. When the arise movie dropped and crossover content was being made it was A LOT of 12 bashing in said fics. Like ‘Unfamiliar Familiar’ and ‘The fight for Mikey’ it was handled in such a bad faith way and reached such a wide audience that if i were to open a crossover fic for 12/Rise the predetermined ideas of ‘2012 brothers/Splinter are abusive’ ‘12 Mikey is innocent’ ‘12 April is a bitch’ are there.

Its why so many of us 12 fans vehemently speak out about it in a strong manner. A few of us are open to discuss it but the pool has already been tainted so to speak.

OH SO WE'RE JUST NAME DROPPING FICS NOW??? with like real people behind them and stuff?? ok damn i guess i really did kick the hornets nest here.

anyway, i read an ok fic once that i dont remember the name of where the rise bros were like "you guys are really mean" and the 2012 bros were like "y'all aint perfect either" and they kept fighting each other because of some sort of dimension thing where only one of them could exist in the same universe and it was an interesting enough premise i guess.

i stopped reading it cause the writing was a little too on the nose for me (like, people just saying exactly what they mean in an emotional situation sorta thing) but it wasnt the worst.

i think i also read a bit of unfamiliar familiar but i dont remember much about it. I guess I didn't notice that was character bashing? then again i never had a huge attachment to 2012 so i probably took the "2012 doesnt deserve mikey so im giving him to rise" thing as more lighthearted than you would if you like. were attached to 2012 and had strong opinions on them hah.

I assumed that the author was interested in telling a story about an abused kid who gets taken in by a new family, and just used 2012 tmnt to do it. I guess my blind spot comes from the way I view stories as vehicles for someone to express themselves. so i care more about the story itself and what it explores (usually abuse) than like, if they're being unfair to characters.

but yeah, having major fanfics that spread a version of 2012 dynamics you don't agree with/like is sure to rub ya the wrong way. I totally get the irritation there.

I read a fanfic that was similar to that actually, where 2012 Donnie and Mikey ran away cause home life was really bad, and it was written so well that I fell in love immediately. My favorite part was that we had parts from everyone's POV's, Donnie, Mikey, and then after they left Raph and Leo. AND it was going to be reconciliation too!! like they were going to get better and all this cool stuff, and the way it handled trauma and coping and healing was sOoOOOO good. unfortunately it was never finished, but yeah. i guess that's my ideal 2012 abuse fanfic that i'm always chasing the high of. it also scratched a particular itch i have for running away, and the tense feeling surrounding the lead up to you running away.

SIDE NOTE I have noticed some weirdness around 2012's female characters, but i think I have another ask that goes into that so I'll save it for there.

ANYWAY thats a long ass way for me to say "oooh i didnt realize that, i see things X way but it's clear to me now that a lot of people see it Y way. that's fair, anyway let me rant about other fanfics i read" haha

#nnstuff #ask

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titanicfreija · 1 year

Text

(another long one. I need to quit getting high before I write.)

The Complete Mausoleum

Freija stayed uncharacteristically quiet as she sparrowed across the Mists.

She had already been warned about the graveyard they headed toward. The Awoken laid their dead in open air graves, often with family memorials. These being so many, there would be one huge shrine with several "beds" to hold the dead, and it would be overwhelming to see. Even if she didn't know why.

Which was irritating to her. Freija didn't like complicated emotions on good days, and she rarely had a genuine good day. And it made her hard to deal with often, but this itch needed scratching.

"I swear I can feel her in here," she complained. "I never wondered why I do the random feelings shit, but I'm convinced it's her, now. Sarah. Why don't I feel this attachment to Earth? Earth doesn't make me feel shit."

"I imagine she is accustomed to Earth. Nothing makes her feel anything because it felt normal. I'm sure if you found somewhere she felt special, you would, too."

"Am I this emotional? Like on my own?"

Sunny accidentally made a noise Freija recognized as a badly restrained laugh, unable to stop herself.

"I take that as a yes and also a joke about how I'm not very self aware."

"You're not wrong. Yes, my wonderful, marvelous, strong, loving guardian, you are a very emotional person. Easily provoked, not easily calmed, and intense for the duration. It's nice when you're happy or have a new thing to play with, but your rage is... Something else."

"I'm trying," she objected. "I'm still really bad, but I'm trying. You help with distracting me. The breathing helps. Talking through what's bothering me depends on what's bothering me."

Sunny chirped wordlessly.

"I know you were hoping I would grow out of that," Freija chuckled.

"You'll learn how to handle it better, for certain. You'll have a long time to decide to do it and even longer to practice."

Freija offered her a soft grunt to show she listened, but she fell silent as the monument cliff and its monument came into view.

The mausoleum stood two stories tall, partially enclosed with numerous tall windows. The path to it had been ruined, stairs smashed into a slide or broken away entirely. Freija studied the cliffside while Sunny dematted the sparrow.

"Vandalism?" she asked, gesturing at the defunct architecture.

"Actually, the few survivors had it done to prevent vandalism."

Freija didn't bother asking further, bouncing high to lift off higher, grabbing a ledge, then pulling herself up.

It would have been hard when she first woke up, back when she hardly knew how to make a hammer. Freija remembered the weakness in the dream and flinched. She couldn't do this lightless. She couldn't even think about doing this lightless.

"I am really really glad I missed out on the Red War," she mumbled as she crawled up the rocks.

"Me, too."

"I wouldn't even be able to wear this armor, would I?"

"Not easily. It wouldn't be armor, just a hindrance."

"She... It was hard to move Millie... I guess that's what she called her. I can't even imagine having trouble lifting a person. That... I admire the lightless, I really do. That... Scared the shit out of me. She... Her... Blood made her nearly impossible to move. Sticky. Wet."

"Did she look for her mother?"

"I didn't see them in the dream. I don't know if she looked. I think she didn't. She knew they were dead already. Or maybe couldn't think to. Or maybe her mom and sister weren't there and I'm remembering wrong or funny. I didn't see her barricade the door when she was moving her sister, either, but I think she did. I think a lot was lost in panic. Maybe the memory didn't form."

"That makes sense."

"Maybe I'll dream of her face later."

"Maybe."

"Do I have a grave up here?"

"No. You were declared missing."

Freija almost didn't ask. "How many others were missing?"

"Twenty-one, not including you. No searches, for the sake of the fled. The land got scoured for bodies but otherwise the survivors were allowed to flee without interference from the Queen."

"They didn't go two clicks out," Freija complained, taking a moment to look over the Mists. Her first grave could almost be seen from here. "That really hurts my-- her feelings."

"Well, look at it this way-- in a straight line, yes, you were two clicks out. The path she took? The only ways a mortal person could have? She ran across a field, down a cliff path, and then across a narrow ledge on a wall. At least five clicks on a treacherous cliffside. No one would expect her to go there, no one would think someone got that far and chased that far. None of her immediate family, the only ones she'd have known, survived, so no one was left to press on."

Freija turned back to the wall and climbed up the hard way, not wanting to risk missing and falling and having to start over. "This is stupid. I feel stupid for being this upset. I didn't know these people. I didn't even know Sarah. They died years before I was fucking bor-- reborn!"

Freija pulled herself up and brushed herself off, stepping around the mausoleum to its dais and front door.

"I think she's okay," Freija murmured, easing her way in. Her boots echoed in the enormous Hall. The room reminded the guardian more of a stadium than a mausoleum, with the door as the stage and the grave markers as seating.

A huge statue of a podium stood in the center of the round room, engraved with Awoken lettering that moved as Freija looked at it. She recognized a pattern of five sets, but didn't recognize any individual symbols.

No space had been allowed for more bodies.

"No good deed goes unpunished," muttered Sunny.

"Do I want to know?"

"You know already, the family reunion, and the excuse the zealots used to justify your murder to themselves."

Freija grunted and sighed.

She expected a hundred beds, but instead, wide ones intended for whole families at once circled a double bed at the top. Arranged like a family tree, Freija noticed. She already knew hers was third down. "Maternal?"

"Yes."

"What was her name?"

"Fira."

"That's pretty."

Freija slowed her pace subconsciously and couldn't pick it back up. Four stone pillows. A low pillar with a wreath. "I do have a marker," Freija observed, and she pet the stone of the bed. She couldn't read the names.

"She couldn't do anything more," Sunny said, trying to head off any fits. "She did everything she could for everyone she could."

"She knows," Freija mumbled, but her face still burned and her heart still pounded. "She feels cheated of a long life. She didn't deserve to die like that. None of them deserved that." She sat on the ground and rocked against the stone to rest her head against it. "She's angry, now."

Freija didn't sound angry. She sounded tired. "Fucking politics. I get killing people for food and medicine, I don't get murder for principle."

"Privilege of people who don't have to go to war over supplies," Sunny mumbled.

Freija placed a palm on the "bed". "S'pose all the bodies have been eaten and blown away. I... Don't miss them. But I'm sad they're dead?"

"You don't have to know someone to mourn their death."

Freija breathed a slow sigh and stood back up. "You gonna shut up, now?"

"You might have to make peace with her presence. She makes you happy to be in the Dreaming City, she always has. From your first day, you talked about how pretty this place is." Sunny touched her bunny shell to Freija's cheek.

Freija scowled and rocked back. "Seriously? No. She needs to go back to sleep. I'm not sharing consciousness, I have a hard time thinking already. If she doesn't, I'm blaming you."

"It's not my fault!"

They giggled together.

Freija looked over the mausoleum. Not one hundred beds, but one hundred places to sleep. One of the beds had ten pillows and three more stands with wreaths like hers.

"Even the survivors," Freija realized, looking back at the big podium in the middle. "Those were the five names."

"They regarded the name... Retired?"

"Extinct," Freija spat.

"Yeah."

She circled the room slowly, not bothering to count. "She didn't know any of these people either."

"She didn't. I don't know if she met anyone she liked."

"She felt weird with them," Freija answered. "They made her feel like an earthling."

"Is it not forbidden for a guardian to investigate their past?"

Freija jumped and screamed, drawing her shotgun as she spun, searching for the voice.

Queen Mara's head appeared reflected in a solid wall, shining and huge. "I believe I remember you. You have recently been injured, and you have helped Petra frequently and Shuro Chi occasionally. Guardians are not allowed this deep in the Dreaming City, and no one at all is allowed here."

"Had a nightmare," Freija explained, bowing subconsciously. "Of the massacre. I remembered trying to save my-- Sarah's sister. And I wanted to see the monument."

Queen Mara didn't move, and her eyes remained fixed on the guardian for several moments.

"I'll leave soon," she promised. "I can't learn anything here, I can't read Awoken. I just... Had to."

Mara's lips twisted wryly and her head moved slightly, likely changing positions or relocating. "I never encountered the previous occupant of that particular corpus, but I did know this family well. Their slaughter shocked many. The perpetrators were executed. What else is there to know?"

Freija failed to hide the pain, but she bit back her attitude.

"You will leave within the hour or I shall have you removed," Mara stated firmly, and her image vanished.

"Pretty sure Mara's as upset by this as you," Sunny whispered. "Probably more."

Freija scowled and turned away, growling. "What else is there to know," she mimicked in her nose. "Fucking-- Millie's favorite color, that's what, fuck off."

"She can hear you," Sunny pointed out.

"I'm so far past caring," Freija whimpered, stomping back to her former family's final resting place. "I wouldn't have been there to help, even as a guardian. This is civilian shit. Politics." She heaved a sigh. "I don't know what to tell her, I can't think of anything to help!"

"Many of this bloodline spoke similar words," chuckled Mara's voice, louder and clearer. Freija didn't turn to see her, knowing already she stood there in the real to some extent or another.

"The matriarch of this family dedicated herself to the aid of others. Volunteers in every sense but combat. She and her line famously refused to give me a Corsair. Four Techeuns, however, and many scribes, scholars, and scientists. I believe the non-violence drove Fira and her husband to Earth. I could never be certain-- Fira often defied her family."

She paced to the wide bed of the Earthling family and stroked the smooth stone with pale fingers. "I paid them little attention. Some regarded them as traitors. Including Io," she said nodding to the top of the stairs. "Tebbir called them back when she became head of the family. They refused for quite some time."

Mara paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Saris took after Sobu's side. His family did give me Corsairs. That monument is much smaller, and within bounds, if you and your ghost would like to visit them, too."

"I'm here for Millie," Freija mumbled, looking back do the stone pillow. "Trying to let Sarah mourn or something. I remembered... and I feel. So." She stopped and hid her face, feeling stupid again. Mara usually made her feel little anyway.

"I often wonder how much of the first life remains under the guardian," she observed. "You recall being alive?"

"No. Just. Being sad about a history lesson that touches real close. Regret that isn't mine, because she wanted to do more and couldn't. She died that night, fighting back as hard as she could-- she broke a helmet. Badass. But. She--ran. And she feels guilty for running." Freija couldn't stop herself and she stormed around the grave. "And she was still trying to draw fire! I bet she even cussed a few that didn't notice her! That whole event scared me! There's no guilt!"

Queen Mara stood still, as if an image cast into stone again, watching Freija pace out the rage. Sunny hovered nearby. "The newborns are always so temperamental," Mara observed. "I believe this one awoke near the time and place of my brother. "

Sunny glanced to see if she found that remarkable and found Mara checking her reaction. "I knew that actually," Sunny said. "Only because me and Glint caught the same ride here with four or five other ghosts. We thought he was annoying."

Freija finally stopped and placed her hands on the grave again. "Okay?" she huffed. "I have enough crazy, I don't need me having stupid nightmare history lessons."

"I suppose I could give Saris a resting place," Mara said aloud. "Do you believe a proper grave would offer peace?"

Freija started as if she forgot the queen's presence. "Oh-- thank you, your majesty, I'm just-- fuuufffff... I'm okay," she lied flatly, turning away to pace.

"I have a theory that the memories formed in their first lives can be accessed with the right triggers," Sunny whispered to Mara. "I think I accidentally nudged hers."

"Is it a memory or is it a nightmare?"

"Both. I'm sure only some of her dream was true."

Mara's lips pursed and she watched Freija pace. "I hope you are correct," she said. "You spoke true. I regard the massacre of the Pojins as a failure. I underestimated the hatred stirred and did not take early enough precautions. I no longer make this mistake."

Sunny bobbed in place calmly, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"I do like this shell of yours. I do not see them often," the Queen said, smiling kindly before her face hardened. "I still expect you gone in the next forty minutes. You may visit the Shu mausoleum freely, as it is within permitted boundaries. This one remains off limits. Saris is as dead as the rest of her family, and the woman standing before me is as welcome as any other stranger."

"You really are going to replace her wreath with a bed, aren't you?" whispered Sunny. "I thought you were making a joke at her but you really do feel bad that she died, too."

"I do not wish to discuss this further," Mara stated, turning on her toes and stepping away as she dematerialized.

"Maybe when we leave, Sarah will stay here," Freija grumbled. She studied the pillow at the end. "Millie was the baby," she said. "For fuck's sake! Go away!" She whirled in place, then narrowed her eyes on Sunny, pointing fiercely. "This is why we're not supposed to fucking know!"

Sunny wished she could argue but Freija was right, and the ghost knew she screwed up.

#destiny 2 #d2 #ocs #writing #freija #scribble

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yandere-sins · 3 years

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Could I request a yandere vampire viewing humans to be nothing more than food, only to find their Darling stand out amongst the many mortals they’ve consumed over the years?Instead of draining their Darling prey dry in a few weeks like usual, the vampire decides to keep their Darling - to savor, to play with, and cherish in its own way - much to Darling’s dismay at seeing no end or escape in sight. Bonus points if the vamp bite can be pleasurable or painful, depending on the vamp’s mood, and can be used as a reward or punishment as needed. Double bonus for nsfw bits if you’re feeling up to it

I just felt like writing about bitemarks, make of that what you want. Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You winced as they put the weight of their arms on top of yours, tangling their fingers with yours. With your arms stretched out by long, silk fabric and suspended in the air on either side, you had crumbled to the ground, exhausted, drained, spent. Only making you more vulnerable than you already were. You looked up into the mirror before you and at yourself, your eyes lidded from getting no sleep ever since you arrived, and your body missing its energy, skin sunken in as if you were sick.

The vampire let out a satisfied groan, watching you through the reflection in the mirror. Of course, you couldn’t see them in return. You just felt them. You felt their breath against your cheek, the weight of their body as they leaned on you and your feeble condition, and the itching pain from the bite marks that were all over you.

When you were chosen as a sacrifice, you naturally felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. Unlike the many sacrifices you had witnessed over the years, you tried to put on a brave smile, help with the preparations, and even changed your diet. All so that the last few hours of your life would be meaningful. But in reality, you were horrified. Scared and unwilling to die. Creatures like the vampires should be flogged and not appeased with sacrifices they could eat. You weren’t cattle! You were a living, breathing human! However, now that you spent days with them, you realized that it was absolutely impossible to be anything other than a blood donor.

Over and over, their fingertips tapped on the marks they left behind from their teeth. Some started bruising, hurting under their touch. Others were still oozing crimson blood after being torn open. Your life had become much worse than that of cattle. You wouldn’t die as quickly as a cow or goat. You had to endure until you either were killed out of boredom or drained dry to the vampire’s pleasure.

“Tears ruin the taste,” they scolded you, indifferent to the feeling of helplessness and fear you were experiencing. Instinctively, like the people-pleaser you were, you tried to wipe them away, but your hands were still suspended in midair, hanging from the walls on either side of you. If only you could have had a bit of dignity, maybe dying wouldn’t have been so bad. But they restrained you like the sacrifice you were, making you look at yourself in the mirror as they tortured you.

You didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to your body after you died.

Long, cold fingers wrapped around your throat, the mild strangulation uncomfortable yet able to make you focus on it instead of everything else. Deep breaths, the villagers said. Whenever the vampire touches you, take deep breaths to keep calm. Struggling was futile anyway, and you are a sacrifice, not a wild animal. The villagers told you that as if you should be proud of your position, but how in the world could you be proud of what you had become?

One hand wandered upwards to your face, the fingers slim like spider legs, but you couldn’t help but notice that they had begun to warm up, and you assumed that was thanks to your blood. They crept up on you until you had to fear their long nails were going to pluck out your eye. Squeezing them both close tightly, you hoped to at least not experience that horror, only feeling how one of the fingers brushed by your eyelashes, wiping away the tears for you.

Blinking a few times, the hand disappeared, and you heard a very disappointed sounding, “Salty...” from behind you. Twisting your head to look back over your shoulder, you were met with the bright crimson eyes that drilled into yours, their hand slowly lowering from their mouth after they had a taste of your tears and an unsatisfied expression on their face.

“Told you it ruins the taste,” they shrugged, elegantly gesturing that they didn’t care for your tears, and you almost felt inclined to apologize.

“Please...” you muttered, finding that your mouth was terribly dry.

“Hm?” they perked up, having forgotten how your voice sounded after days of silently accepting your fate.

“Please end it,” you pleaded, close to tears again. “I-I’m ready. I don’t care what happens, but I can’t live like this anymore. Please, have mercy!”

You were tired. So, so tired. You wanted to sleep or eat. Go back to your family and see your friends again. But knowing that would never happen, if you at least could die, then you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.

Instead, fingers wrapped around your chin, their presence suddenly in front of you. Forcing your head back, you were stared at from above, just two red orbs enveloped in darkness, and it was hard to maintain eye contact with them more than ever. “Who do you think you are? Thinking you can make demands?”

“N-No,” you pressed forth through the pain of your jaw crushing under their grip and your bruises ripping open from the strain. “I’d never dare!”

“Good.” Instantly, the vampire’s mood seemed to change back to the usual indifference, and they kneeled down before you. Their right hand brushed down your neck and along your shoulder, getting covered in the red color of your blood before they brought it to their lips, licking it off their knuckles. “I gave you these for a reason. They are a perfect imprint from me on you, so no one will dare to feed off my property. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Speechless, you wanted to say something, but the situation was simply overwhelming. Why would they want to mark you? Why was it important who you belonged to? You were just a sacrificed ready to be consumed.

A flinch escaped you as they leaned forward, and you were expecting another burning bite, but instead, lips pecked at the bite wounds tenderly, one after the other. Again and again, until the kisses became fervent, tongue lapping out, sucking at your skin. It stung and burned, and you had to bite your lip tightly as to not let out a sound. Your body grew hot and felt like it was pulling at your open skin; it was almost too much.

Until you suddenly felt hot breath against your lips, opening your eyes alarmed. With an eager tongue, the vampire tasted from the blood on your mouth before parting your lips, breaths and tongues mingling. You expected to taste your own blood, but it tasted sweeter than you could have ever dreamed about. Sweet, enticing, and hot, that’s what the kiss felt like, even though your body was struggling with the pain and the hand on your throat cutting off more air than you could take in. And yet, as if magically pushed towards the vampire, you only leaned in more, tried to get more of the sweet pleasure of their tongue. Just as surprising as it came, it ended, and you were left gasping as the vampire pulled away.

“Better?” they asked, and through your fogged brain, you weren’t sure you understood. “Don’t ever ask to die again. Remember, you are mine forever.”

With them standing up, you got a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again, and you blinked a few times at the image before you. All over your left shoulder, there was no mark left, and your skin had puffed up again, eyes wide open and awake. The vampire disappeared behind you again, but you quickly felt their arms wrap around your torso, a feeling you knew well by now. “If you’re truly that miserable, tell me. I wouldn’t know. I don’t understand you humans. But know that my help comes at a price.”

Finally, you were able to puzzle together your thoughts. The healthy feeling you had, together with your body looking perfectly fine, must be the vampire’s doing. They must have used some kind of magic or trick on you, but having exhausted themselves by doing that, that probably meant...

Their fangs protruding from their mouth, they dragged them along your supple skin, searching for the best spot to bite down. Fleshy, warm, and soft. Where the blood would spurt out from the slightest irritation. Clenching your teeth, you couldn’t help but try to fight their tight embrace, tried to get out before it was too late. But your struggles were futile, only pressing you up into their fangs until you felt them sink into you inch by inch.

Your ears buzzing and your heart racing as you were fed from, you only shut your eyes tightly, holding back the gasps and moans, not wanting anyone to think this was actually enjoyable. But the sweet taste on your tongue remained, as well as the feeling of their lips against yours, making you wonder what they meant when they claimed you for ‘forever’.

#vampire #vampires #vampire x reader #yandere!vampire #yandere vampire #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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thefanficmonster · 2 years

Note

Hello sweetheart! I hope you're doing well. Sometimes we are afraid to admit that we truly love someone. We are afraid to accept the idea that this someone means the whole world to us. We fear that love will make us vulnerable and weak. Because of all of this we continue to hide the most wonderful and powerful feeling in the depths of our hearts, trying to deny and not notice its existence...But only until the moment when something very terrible is happening to the person we genuinly love. So could you please write some headcanons for Karl Heisenberg and reader who gets attacked and badly hurt by a pack of bloodthirsty Lycans, and after this horrible incident Karl is confessing to reader his love, that he's been hiding within his kind heart for a long time? Thank you so much!

You're words describe how scary love can be so beautifully, darling. I couldn't possibly agree more. It is so meaningful to find someone who understands that fear that always comes with the intensity of loving someone or knowing that someone loves you. It is a responsibility and turmoil and a bittersweet clash of emotions but we need to sort it out ourselves before life has to do it for us because when life dose it, it's quite the rude awakening.

Enjoy the headcanons dear 💕

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Reader (Gender Neutral) [Resident Evil Village]

Warnings: SPOILERS for Resident Evil Village, Mentions of an attack, Injuries, Mentioned Blood, Near death experience, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

You and Karl have always been on a rocky landing, your relationship never level and even throughout the time you've known each other

Hell, if someone were to ask you - not that anybody knows about your familiarity with one another, but still - what the two of you were, you wouldn't be able to tell them

He often made it look and sound like you were nothing but a pest and nuisance distracting him from his work

But other times he'd be so sweet and kind towards you, messing with your emotions entirely

Although, you never have trusted his rough exterior, seeing the warmth in his eyes has always been enough to dissuade you from being put off by his mannerisms and appearance

To you, on the other hand, he's always been a friend

Well, in actuality, he's a friend, in theory, however, you'd always wished he'd be something more

How could you not when your heart would change its beating pattern around him?

When your hands would itch to hug him when he would be having a bad day

When your chest aches every time he says something degrading about himself

Today was no different, you had stopped by the factory early in the morning to find he was already in a sour mood

One he would've never taken out on you but he had made it blatantly clear that he didn't want you around in case he snapped

Turning the tables on him, however, you were the one to snap

You'd called him selfish and mean and outright ridiculous for creating an emotional prison for himself and willingly choosing to live in it when you've always been there for him to be open and honest

You've always been there and he's never seen you, at least that's what you believe and what you exclaimed right before running out of the factory and back toward the center of the village

Your recklessness of noise had been more than enough to alert the beasts roaming the premises from a mile away as your feet crunched the snow under your feet in pursuit of a place where you could come to a crash and let your own emotions out

But you stopped running at the wrong time....

Karl was left in the factory, feeling even worse than before, sitting at his desk with his face in his hands as he growled, groaned and cursed at his own stupidity to have done that to you - upset you like that

Something he swore to never do, not intentionally at least

But he knew no other way to protect himself other than to be hostile

Why did he want to protect himself?

Well, because he didn't want you to know that his heart leapt every time he was in your presence

The way he'd often stumble over his words while talking to you

The way his eyes could only focus on you if you were in the room

The way he only heard your voice and nothing else when you'd speak, even in a loud factory that's never not noisy

The thought of never seeing hearing or feeling any of that again, and all of it being his fault, terrified him

So without waiting a second more he had run out of the factory, primarily searching the outskirts for you and then heading for the Beneviento residence where he could imagine you'd go to seek comfort in the peace of the place or a chat with Donna

However, halfway down the path, he heard the growls and roars of a pack of lycans, accompanied by the shrill screams and yells of a voice he recognized

Your voice

He might as well have teleported to the location, he made it there so fast

Upon his arrival, his heart nearly stopped at the sight of you bruised, cut up and bloodied, lying on the frosted grass, gripping a metal pipe in your hand to fight off the lycans with using the last bit of your strength which was by no means enough to ward them off

The second before you lost consciousness, you felt the pipe slide out of your grip as if pulled by an unseen force

Which is exactly the factor at play here

Using his powers, Karl picked up all the metal items in the vicinity of the ruin of a house nearby and swung them against the lycans, striking them all with such force that most of the blows were lethal

He rushed to you, taking hold of your face and checking your pulse with a touch to your neck, relieved to find your heart was still beating, although unevenly and rapidly, all that mattered is that you were still alive

By the time he brought you back to the factory, he was horrified to find that your pulse has slowed down significantly

Using all his medical knowledge and equipment at his disposal, he immediately got to work, closing your still open wounds and cleaning up the seared ones, patching them up just as tenderly

Once each and every wound of yours was clean and bandaged he knew he had done all in his power which left him feeling helpless, clutching your hand in both of his as he silently prayed to whatever entity he could think of for your life to be preserved

It's only when your hand squeezed back that he was jolted out of his catatonic state to find how much time had passed

And to find your eyes staring back at him

A small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you found your voice, "You look like hell."

He didn't care for the comment, all he could do is let out his pent up hysteria in gusts of breath and small snickers

But then he pressed a kiss to your forehead

"You scared me to death." He admits, moving some of your bloody hair out of your face

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." You admit, genuinely feeling guilty to have rattled him so badly

You tried reaching a hand towards him but the pain of lifting it was too much for you to handle so you just let it fall back limp against the mattress beneath you

"I know you didn't and there's nothing to apologize for. I just...I was horrified...I couldn't lose you. I can't lose you. I can't lose the love of my life, I'll never let that happen."

His confession left you slack-jawed for a few moments, unable to comprehend it with your still fuzzy brain, "What?"

"You heard me." He sighed, "I know I can be a lot, I know I can be the biggest dick and the cruelest asshole but I'm also just a man, and one who's been hurt a few too many times and has loved very little in his life. So, forgive me if I'm going about this the wrong way, I've never known how it's supposed to go. But I believe you should finally know what I feel for you, how much you mean to me. How much I....I love you."

A stray tear slips out of the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek and falling onto Karl's palm which has cupped it

"You're going about it the right way." You nod, ignoring the pain in your neck, "First step is honesty and a confession, you've got those down."

"What's step number two?" He asks, allowing himself the smallest of chuckles

"Affection."

You needn't tell him anything else before his lips are on yours

But you do say something

You mutter it in the kiss

"I love you too, Karl. So much."

102 notes · View notes

itsallyscorner · 4 years

Text

Bring Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Filming “Cherry” had its ups and downs for Tom. When filming finally takes its toll on him, you’re there to instantly bring him back from the world of Cherry.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, PTSD, murder. A smidge of smut.

A/n: In honor of the Cherry🍒 trailer dropping, I decided to write this!

(GIF creds: @atealiers )

Any kind of project was a blessing to Tom. He loved being an actor. He was fond of telling stories through the big screen and got a kick from portraying many different characters. Acting was something he felt passionate about, it was his craft and he was very dedicated when it came to becoming his roles. Cherry was quite different from the other movies he’s been in. It was dark and contained many subjects like drug addiction, PTSD, and crime. The world of Cherry was something Tom was not used to; it was twisted. He hasn’t been exposed to things like drugs or the events that Nico Walker had been through. Which was why he was hesitant to take on the role of Cherry.

When the Russo Brothers approached him with the idea, he was excited. He was getting the opportunity to tell another story and would explore the world of a new character. Though the more he looked into it, he realized that maybe he wasn’t up for the role. Was he really ready to dive into the dark and traumatizing life of Nico Walker? As an actor, he was willing to take the job, it would give him an opportunity to expand his career and would possibly be one of his best work. As Tom, he wasn’t sure if he could handle learning or re-enacting the events that occurred in Cherry. But Tom did like a challenge, which was why he ended up agreeing to become Cherry.

He prepared himself mentally and physically pre- production. For research, he interviewed army veterans and former drug addicts to get an idea of what it was like to be in those positions. To get the look of Cherry, he did a variety of things. For example, going on a diet and losing weight, then gaining said weight again once they had to shoot the army scenes. Another thing he did was shave off the gorgeous brown curls that adorned his head. At first you weren’t too happy with his change in hairstyle, but later on you found yourself running your hands along the short strands of hair, loving the fuzzy feeling it gave your palms.

After the interviews and hearing others’ experience, Tom felt a level of responsibility to tell the story of millions of people around the world. Not only was it telling the story of Nico, but of other army veterans who suffered from PTSD and people who’ve had drug addictions. He was fully on board now and there was no looking back. He was going to push himself to the limit and to places he’s never been before.

Filming was tough. There were scenes he had to do that were so unlike him, that felt wrong, and sometimes he just had to take a step back. They didn’t feel right, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. This was his job, if he wanted this movie to be the best that it can, he was going to commit. Thankfully, he was working with the Russos, who he’s known for a while now. He was familiar with the two and they were patient with him, giving him the time to regain himself before shooting an intense scene. The cast and crew were very understanding as well, creating a safe space for him on set. Having Harry along with him helped as well, the familiarity of his brother kept him grounded and avoided him from falling into the void of Cherry. Though he had all these supportive people around him, there was only one person who could calm him down when things got suffocating on set. The only person he wanted to be in Cleveland with him but wasn’t. You. Since you had your own life and job, you were unable to fly out to Cleveland with him. Instead you stayed at your shared home with Tessa as company. All he needed was you when he felt the affects of Cherry caging in on him. Just the sound of your comforting voice over the phone could clear his head and make him breath again.

He had his bad days on set, where he would have to take a moment and hide in his trailer for a few minutes. During those few minutes he liked to be alone as he waited for you to answer your phone. The line would ring, it’d stop, then the sound of your sweet voice would be the only thing he’d hear. Sometimes you didn’t answer the first time, but nonetheless you answered eventually. It wasn’t the same as having you with him in person, you had your responsibilities, and he understood that. He just wished that one day you’d come to Cleveland. He wanted to be in your arms, stuff his face into your neck, breath in your familiar scent, he just wanted to feel you. You were his home. His safe haven. And it was all he wanted right now.

•

Glancing at your phone, you wondered why Tom hasn’t texted you yet. Not that you were itching for him to text you, but because around this time he would be blowing up your phone telling you things that happened during filming or how his day was going. You decided that filming probably went into overtime making him busy during his break. You shrug to yourself and continue working on your laptop.

You hear the sound of Tessa’s nails clicking against the floors as she enters the office of your home. You greet her with a smile as she settles herself beside your legs.

“Is it dinner time already, Tess?” You scratch her head as you glance at the time on your screen. It was currently nine at night, a bit late for dinner, but you haven’t noticed.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll get us dinner. How does that sound, love?” A somewhat sound of approval emits from Tessa. You get back to work, fingers typing away as you finish off the last of your work.

You finish in four minutes, finally satisfied with your work. You let out a content sigh and turn your laptop off. When you get up you stretch and let your bones crack after being in the same position for hours. Tessa joins you, stretching out her front paws then shaking her body out. You chuckle as you lead the way to the kitchen. Taking the scoop for Tessa’s kibble, you fill her bowl up, causing the dog to look up in curiosity. Once you placed the bowl down, her tail wagged wildly as she stuffed her face into her food.

You decided on going for something simple, ramen noodles. You were too tired too cook anything and ramen noodles were the quickest thing to cook in your pantry. While you waited for the noodles to heat up you checked your phone. You went through your notifications, but there were still no texts from Tom. Though you were concerned, you assumed that they had a long shooting day, making him too busy to text.

Hi love! I hope you’re doing well in Cleveland. I know you’re probably busy, but hopefully filming isn’t tiring you out too much. Have an amazing day! Don’t forget to drink some water from time to time and eat :) Tess and I miss you and love you so much! Talk soon xxx

You send the text with a smile. He won’t read it till he was free or done with filming, but you knew he’d see the message while you were asleep.

The microwave beeps, letting you know that your food was done. You end your night catching up on episodes of New Girl and eating soup. When you were done you did your nightly routine and settled in bed. You turn the lights off and snuggled under the warm sheets.

“Night Tessa.” You whisper to her. A huff comes out of her as she makes herself comfortable on the foot of your bed. When the both of you were settled, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Buzz

The harsh vibrations of your phone shook you awake. Desperate for sleep, you blindly grab your phone and turn it off. Silence fills the room again as you turn around to stuff your face into Tom’s pillow. You were slowly drifting back to sleep when your phone began to vibrate again. With a groan you stretch back and snatch for phone off the night stand. You don’t bother looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” Your voice rasps out.

“Thank God you answered.” The person on the other line said. “I know you’re busy, but how soon can you visit Cleveland?” The deep voice was belonged to Harry.

“Uh—I’m not too sure, I’ll need to check in with my boss.” You reply. When you start feeling more awake you become curious as to why Harry can be calling you. “Why? Is everything ok? How’s Tom? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

The younger Holland sighs. He takes a moment to answer your questions making you suffer in silence, wondering what could have happened to your boyfriend. “Um, they’ve been shooting some intense scenes lately. Tom’s been trying his best but everyone’s noticed that he’s been a bit different.”

You sit up in bed feeling more awake. “What do you mean by different, Haz?”

“Well he’s snapped at the Russos quite a few times. There was this one scene, that they shot multiple times, and Tom would just break down after every one. (Y/n), I’m concerned for my brother, I don’t know what else to do. He’s locked himself in his room after every shoot. A—and I don’t know. I’ve tried to tell him that he can talk to me but he wouldn’t.” Harry explained, his voice croaked. You heart felt heavy for him. Harry was always there for his older brother, so to see him feel so helpless made you feel sorry.

“Haz, calm down, you know how your brother can get. How long has this been happening?”

Harry sniffed over the phone, “About a few weeks now. It’s only started becoming worse last week and now.”

The concern you felt for Tom grew. From what he’s been texting you, filming had been going great. He appeared happy on your FaceTime calls and sounded like his usual self. But maybe he actually wasn’t.

“Harry everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” You assure him. “I’ll call my boss first thing in the morning and when I get the ‘ok’ to leave I’ll get the first flight out to Cleveland. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good. Can you tell me if you can make it? I’ll have someone come with me to pick you up at the airport.” His voice is quiet, almost muffled.

“Yeah I will, don’t worry.”

“Ok, thank you (y/n).” A small smile forms on your lips. You rub the sleep out your eyes as you glance at your closet. “Alright Haz, I’m gonna go now. But if there’s anything else, just text me or call.”

“I know, stay safe (y/n).” You bid him goodbye and place your phone on the empty space beside your side of the bed. Tom’s side of the bed. You bite your lip in thought as you worry about your boyfriend. You knew he was doing almost everything he can to make sure the movie came out perfect. If that meant shredding himself emotionally and physically, he was going to do it. Tom was dedicated to his work, but he’s never done anything close to Cherry, making you worried about the thoughts that could possibly be going through your lover’s head.

Tessa, who’s now woken up, waddles closer to you, sensing your uneasiness. You appreciate the dog’s gesture and pull her into your side, resting your chin on her head. You were basically sleepless the whole night. Although you haven’t emailed your boss yet, you already had a suitcase packed of your clothes. Your passport and other important belongings were already in a bag, ready to leave London.

The morning had been hectic. You’ve managed to get two hours of sleep, waking up at six in the morning. Still in bed, you sent your boss an email about a family emergency and how you needed to be out of the country for at least a week. As if the gods above knew of your situation, your boss willingly let you go, no questions asked and gave you well wishes. With that out the way, you scowered the Internet for flights to Cleveland. Luck was on your side that morning because you’ve booked a flight that took off in the afternoon. With your bags packed, you drove to Nikki and Dom’s to drop off Tessa.

Now all checked in, you were at Heathrow Airport waiting to be called for your flight. You were sat at your gate, with an iced coffee and a croissant from Starbucks, texting Harry. The two of you were discussing the time you’d arrive and how he’d pick you up. When you were both in agreement, you two decided to catch up. He had been in Tom’s trailer eating his breakfast. An hour passes and you were being called to board the plane.

You settle in your seat, but your leg bounced in anticipation. After the things Harry told you, you just wanted to have your boyfriend in your arms. You knew everything was probably getting to his head, all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him that he was going to be ok. As the plane began to take off, your lack of sleep caught up on you. Throughout the whole flight, you slept soundly, the worries of Tom subsiding for the time being.

~🛬~

The plane lands in Cleveland safely. It was night when you arrived. With your bags, you looked around the airport for a familiar curly haired boy. Harry waves wildly at you before running and pulling you into a tight hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around the slender boy.

“How’s your day been, Haz?” You ruffle his hair as he rolls your suitcase to the parking lot. He shrugs, “The usual. Was on set with Tom, ran around and got things for him, nothing much happened honestly. But you’re here now, so this is the highlight of my night.”

The two of you approach a black car with a driver inside, Harry motions for him to unlock the trunk. He lifts your case in before the two of you get into the backseat.

“How was your flight?” Harry asks you. The car began to move, exiting the airport and entering the highway.

“I slept through all of it, I don’t remember a thing about the flight besides getting on and off it.” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Harry nudges your shoulder, “Thanks for coming out with such short notice.” You wave him off. “It’s no worries, anything for my boys.”

The car is quiet, the only sounds that could be heard is the car’s wheels against the pavement. You turn to Harry, “How was he today?”

“He was pretty good in the morning.” Harry started. “Then filming started and he would grow frustrated after a few scenes. His temper’s been short. He snapped at me during lunch, which is normal, but I just asked him if he wanted some water. He broke down after a certain scene today, I tried talking to him but he still wouldn’t open up about it.” Tom wasn’t too open about his feelings sometimes. He struggled to voice them at times making all his frustrations and feelings bottled up in his head.

Half an hour later and you guys arrive at Tom’s rented home in Atlanta. As soon as you opened the door, you felt the heavy atmosphere. It was somber and tense, the chilliness of the weather also felt inside the house. Harry gestures up the stairs, “Don’t worry, go see him. His room is the first door on the left.”

You quietly thank him and climb up the stairs. You find his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. You hear some shuffling behind the door, “Harry I’m fine! Leave me alone!” His voice was deep, a bit scratchy. You frown at the door.

“Tom?” The room falls quiet. Suddenly you hear fumbling and the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door. The door opens and you finally see him. He was dressed in a large shirt with sweatpants. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, eyes glassy, and chapped lips.

“(Y/n)? You’re here?” He asks you in disbelief. A tight lipped grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, Har—“ You were going to explain how you got there but he immediately threw himself at you. His arms wrap tightly around your figure, his head dipped into your neck, pulling your closer into him. One of your arms go around his neck while the other rubs his back soothingly. A whimper bubbles out of him, his shoulders beginning to shake. You managed to shuffle the both of you back into his room, closing the door behind you.

“You’re ok.” You whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. His grip around you never falters. Though he was much taller than you, he seemed so small at the moment. His body drowned in the shirt he wore, making him look thinner. You feel tears soaking into your shirt, making your heart clench in pain. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, holding and whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he was ready to speak.

A few minutes pass until his removes his head from your neck. You frown at his tear stained face, his eyes and cheeks red from quietly sobbing into your shoulder. Your hands cup his face, wiping the trails of tears on his cheeks. Tom leans closer to your touch, his eyes shut while his lips kiss your palm.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired from the flight.” He apologizes but you shake your head. You lead him to his bed and sit against the headboard. Tom follows in suit, desperately trying to get closer to you. His arms wrap around your torso, his head rests on your chest, while your legs tangle themselves together.

“I’ve had plenty of sleep on the flight, how are you?” Your lips are against his short hair from holding him so close. You nails scratch softly at his hair, calming him down.

“I don’t know if I could finish it.” He quietly admits. He shakes his head at himself.

“Why’s that, Tom?” Your boyfriend takes a deep breath as he sits up, removing himself from your touch. He sits across from you with legs crossed as he holds his head in his hands.

“I—I, it’s too much. There’s so much fucked up things he’s done. And all the things he’s seen. I just—sometimes I feel like it’s me who’s committed all of those things. When we shoot the scenes in the war and when I had to do drugs and rob banks, I felt like I lost myself—“ He cries interrupting himself to take a breath in. Compared to your fingers that ran gently through his hair, his clawed at his head. His palms rub harshly at his face, turning his skin a bright tint of red. To see Tom in such pain made you sad. You hated seeing him like this.

You gently remove his hands from scratching at his face and hold them in his lap. He stares down at your hands, clinging onto them as if his life depended on it. “I get lost in the character sometimes and I have to pull myself out of it to bring me back. But it keeps on happening over and over again. Then the Russos kept telling me to reshoot the scene more like Cherry, and I lost it and yelled at them.” You feel his tears fall to your your hands, making tears well up in your own eyes. You shuffle closer to him and kiss his forehead before pulling him into you. You stay quiet, letting him get whatever he wanted to get out.

Tom’s face is against your shoulder again. He sniffs before continuing, “It’s like everyday I find something he and I have in common. Then I think that maybe I’m turning into him. I don’t want him to be part of me. (Y/n), I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to do the things he’s done.” He sobs into your shoulder. Your heart breaks at how broken he sounded. His shoulders shook again, his back burning up with tension. A few tears made it’s way down your cheeks as you pulled his face away from you.

“Look at me.” You urged him. His jaw clenched, still looking down at his lap. He shook his head in response. “Tom, please. Look at me.” Your voice cracks. He slowly tilts his head up, your eyes connecting. He didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes, it’s like they’ve lost the light in them. Instead they were dark, like there was no life behind them. There was a mix of sadness, confusion, and even fear in his eyes.

You sadly smiled at him, cupping his face with your hands. “You’re not going to be him. You never will. You’re Tom. You are nothing close to Nico or Cherry. You are the sweetest man I have known in the world, you wouldn’t even hurt a damn fly. You’re not him. I know you aren’t. You wouldn’t do the things he’s ever done even if you were forced to. I know you Tom, I assure you, you’re nothing like him.” Tom hiccups, gripping onto your wrists.

“When this is all over and you’re done filming, we can forget about him. We won’t even mention him.” You assure him, stroking his cheeks.

“What if—,” You cut him off.

“No, there’s no what if’s. You’re going to be fine Tom. You’re surrounded by people who love you and will make you realize that you’re nothing even near him. You are the kindest man ever, you love your family, you care about your fans, and your brothers. You’re busy always taking care of everyone else, I think it’s time you take care of yourself, love.” You tell him. A small smile is on your face but it falters, “You don’t have to go through this alone, Tom.”

Tom takes a shaky breath in. “You’ll be there right?” He asks like a child making sure his mother will be there when he wakes up. “You’ll be there with me to bring me back?”

Your thumb smooths the crinkle between his brows, “I always will. I promise.” He nods and pulls you into him. You climb onto his lap and settle on his legs. He stares up at you, one of his his hands supporting your back, the other pressed against your cheek. “Thank you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry for not texting, everything’s just been so taxing mentally and physically.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” You turn your face to press a light kiss on his palm. For the first time since you’ve seen him, Tom managed to crack a smile on his lips. He moves some strands of hair away from your face before resting his large hand on the back of your head. “I love you. I love you so much, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Tom.” You whisper against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally crash your lips together. After months being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. The kiss was desperate, like it was the air you both breathed. Tom had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day, whether it be sexually or just missing you. The kiss grew rough, your teeth clashing, tongues poking and gliding against each other.

Tom lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. His hands grab and stroke at your body, trying to pull off your clothes to get close to your skin. He suddenly pulls away from your lips. “I need you. Please, I need you.” He almost begs you. Panting, you nod and push him to lay on his back. “Ok, let me take care of you, Tommy.”

He yanks his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You do the same, leaning down to meet his lips again. You kiss your way along his jaw and down to his neck. When you find that certain spot, he lets out a throaty groan, head falling back against the pillows. You run your nails along his chiseled abs and slightly roll your hips against his growing length. Tom grunts, hands instantly connecting to your ass and gripping onto your cheeks. He helps you roll your hips more, deeper with more friction against you two.

“Mm, Tom. I missed you.” You moan against his neck. You bite down and soothe the spot with your tongue after.

Tom looks down at you, lifting his hips to meet your clothes pussy. “Fucking miss you so much. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming of being buried in you again.” You kiss your way down his chest, but Tom stops you. His hands grab onto your leggings and slide them off.

“N-no foreplay. I need to feel you.” He stutters out, mouth agape. You nod in agreement and take his sweatpants off along with his boxers. You spit in your hand, running your hand along his dick to give it some wetness. Tom helps you lift yourself over him and guides your hips down his erected cock. You let out a combination of a sigh and moan as your walls envelop and stretch around him. Tom slightly sits up against the headboard, your tightness wrapping around him. He lets out a cry of relief, your walls around him feeding his cravings. You use his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself up but Tom stops you.

“What’s wrong?” You eye him cautiously. Tom shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I just—can we stay like this for a while? I just want to feel you, please?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” You send him a reassuring smile as you settle back down on him. His hands make themselves comfortable around your waist. You maneuver your arms under his and wrap them around his back. Tom smiles at you, rubbing your back and guiding you into his chest. Before you can nuzzle your face into his neck, he presses a kiss to your temple and lets his fingers get tangled in your hair.

With his eyes closed in bliss, he whispers, “Thank you for bringing me back. I love you.”

You kiss his collarbone basking in the feeling him being so close to you. “I’ll always be here. I love you too.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #Tom Holland smut #Cherry #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland drabble

2K notes · View notes

javier-pena · 3 years

Note

Astrid hello!! I've heard tell that you want people to talk to you about Javi G and uh ... I just can't get the image of him driving the two of you somewhere and having to pull over to fuck you in the car because he's so worked up out of my headdd 😌 (feel free to delete if you don't want to/can't answer!! I totally understand!)

- @javisjeanjacket

Hi! Okay, anyway, writing this nearly was the end of me, but I hope it's what you were looking for!

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Rating: it's so explicit that I'm thinking about getting a new identity actually

Summary: the ask says it all, but car s*x

Notes: "i am simply ready to lose my mind. you warned me about this but was i prepared? no." - Dani @javierpcna

***

The leather of the backseat scrapes uncomfortably against your knees, you feel your skin stick to the warm surface. Sweat is forming on your brow, your arms, your legs. Everything is hot and sticky and heavy. Your pants fog up the window in front of you, and the landscape behind it appears murky, despite the late afternoon sun, despite the light dancing over the glistening waves below. If you raise your head slightly, you can even see the next bend in the road.

But you don’t lift your head – you can’t. You press your forehead against the glass, your nails scraping against the rough, leathery surface of the door, while you’re being pushed forward over and over again by precise, well-timed thrusts, by three fingers focused on one spot, three fingers that are your entire world.

I just wanna show you the view.

Javi wasn’t lying when he said that, when he pulled the car over. You are looking at the view, but you aren’t seeing it, not really, not in a way you were meant to be seeing it. Because the minute he stopped the car, his hands were all over you, under your skirt, on your chest – squeezing, holding, teasing. You couldn’t blame him because you had been feeling much the same, had felt an ever-growing itch during his week-long absence, one phone calls and expensive toys hadn’t been able to scratch. And when he had suggested taking you out to dinner after getting back from the airport, you’d been slightly disappointed. Yes, you enjoy the build-up, the tension, the teasing, but tonight you need it hard and fast and dirty.

You hadn’t made it to the restaurant.

Javi was impatient in the car, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his foot like lead on the gas pedal. The second your hand found his thigh, the muscles tense like steel, he pulled over.

I just wanna show you the view.

The words were slightly slurred, and the next thing you heard was a ripping sound when he tore your panties, tore them right off you, like impatiently unwrapping a gift. He found you hot and wet and wanting, he all but lifted you onto the backseat and here you are now, your skirt pushed up, your backside exposed, your slick dripping down your thighs.

“Baby,” you moan after a particularly rough thrust. You bite your lip when he does it again. “Fuck!” It’s breathless, it’s quiet, it barely scratches the surface of how good he makes you feel.

His other hand lands on the soft flesh of your backside with a crack and you gasp, your forehead knocking against the glass. Your legs tremble as you push yourself back towards him.

“Again,” you groan. “Do it again.”

He does, and the pain turns into searing hot pleasure so intense that when he thrusts his fingers into you next, you come all over them, coating them with your slick, with wet, hot release, trembling, spilling, screaming his name. Through the haze you hear a new sound, you hear how he pulls down his zipper, you even hear his hand pushing aside the fabric of his expensive dress pants, the dark green ones, the ones you love the most, followed by a sigh of relief.

You clench around his fingers at the prospect of his next move, anticipating how he will fill you up, first with his cock, then with his release, and it feels as if you didn’t just come, and maybe you haven’t because when he starts moving his fingers again, you tumble towards another edge at alarming speed.

“Need you--,” you groan through gritted teeth, “--inside, please, God, please, please, Javi, I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed your …,” you swallow hard, “your cock, please …”

He huffs, and suddenly he’s hovering above you, his fingers on your chin, pulling so your head disconnects from the cooling support of the glass. His palm hovers in front of your face, and without hesitation you lick it, tasting leather and sweat and him. He allows you to suck two fingers into your mouth, to feel their heavy weight on your tongue before he pushes them slightly deeper, making you gag, making you feel full on both ends, before pulling them out. His hand disappears and the wet sounds that follow, mixed with his low grunts are like a heady soundtrack to your own pleasure.

You listen, and imagine his face, his hooded eyes, his reddened cheeks, his curls sticking up in odd places, and suddenly you find yourself yearning for how he looks when he’s fucked out and glowing and sated. You cannot wait to give that to him, so you try to pull yourself off his fingers to turn around, but he stops you with a harsh command.

“Stay!”

You follow his orders and listen to him fucking into his own fist, thinking about how it could be your cunt instead, and he knows you’re thinking it, too, that’s why he teases you like that, that’s why he makes you listen to his pleasure, why he keeps you on the tip of his fingers where he can feel you clench in time with his hand moving over himself.

“Did you think of me?” you ask with the last bit of strength you have left.

A grunt is all you receive as confirmation. But he does pull out his fingers and you tense because you know what’s about to happen.

His hand is so wet, covered in your slick like this that when he grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, he leaves cooling imprints against your hot skin. He slaps you again, does it two times more – grab, slap, grab, slap. You whimper, a pitiful little sound that makes him snarl.

“Harder,” you demand.

This time, your wish remains unheard. Instead, he buries his index finger between your wet folds, then moves it up, leaving a wet trail in its wake, until he reaches a destination you both have only talked about visiting without making the actual trip. But when his wet digit probes it carefully, you want it, want him so much it makes you light-headed, makes you feel fuzzy and high.

His deep voice cuts through the blanket of lust surrounding you. “You’re so tight”, the tip of his finger slips past the firm ring of muscle, “… tight little hole for me to fill.”

He holds you hooked on his finger, like a fish caught, while he continues to stroke himself frantically. You hold your breath, listening to the obscene sounds his hand is making, listening to his pants and moans, and you wish you knew where his eyes are, but you think you can guess. Then something shifts, he shifts, and he’s closer now, also deeper inside of you, while his thumb is buried between your folds again, and your entire body clenches with need.

His thumb finds your clit and it’s over, you come with a scream that echoes around the stuffy car – it might be his name, it might be a curse – but you pull his index finger deeper inside of you as your orgasm rips through you, and he gasps in surprise, deep and desperate. He tries to wait until you’re done, but you won’t stop shaking, your cunt won’t stop fluttering like a butterfly caught in a storm, so he pulls his finger out of you while you’re still coming, making you mewl at the loss.

You feel it, hot and heavy and hard, as he drags his cock through your drenched folds, up until it brushes against where you want him inside of you, but his hot release is already coating your back, your thighs, your over-sensitive center.

You both need to come back down to reality and you need to do it now before someone finds you like this. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Late for what?”

God, his voice! Hearing it after he’s just come makes your legs feel like jelly.

You swallow. “Dinner.”

“Oh, did I forget to specify what kind of dinner?” he teases.

Both of his hands hold you in place as he leans down over your back and drags his tongue over your skin covered in sweat and his own release. When your high giggle turns into a deep moan, he whispers against you.

“I have all I need right here.”

#the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #please forgive me

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daily-escuella · 3 years

Text

God You're Disgusting - Micah Bell - NSFW Short

Micah x f!Reader

In honor of @kitty-the-outlaw's Micah Fucks Monday I have something VERY different for you o.o

I've never written smut before so I chose a character/scenario that was not very tender so I wouldn't get too shy writing it but I'm so extremely nervous to post it haha Inspired by Micah when he says "I'm always likely to despise them more afterwards."

((Thank you @ttuesday for your help proof reading this! <3))

Word count: 1970

Second warning this is !!!NSFW!!! please only read if you're comfortable with that and 18+

Kinks/warnings: Degradation, disrespect, little bit of dom/sub, orgasm denial, dirty talk/name calling

You stood in the dark at the usual place, resting casually against a large tree. Nothing but the half moon and the cherry of your cigarette to light the night air in front of you. Your heart skipped when you heard approaching footsteps and the rustling of a large leafed plant being pushed aside, but you kept your face neutral, gaze distant.

A low chuckle sounded to your right as the man you’d been waiting for arrived at your meeting place.

“I knew I’d find you here again,” he groaned softly, a slight mocking tone to his voice. You hadn’t missed a meeting since the first time you’d made this mistake with him. You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose at his comment.

“Shut up.”

“Gladly.” He replied as he snatched the cigarette from your hand and took a long drag on it. You glared at him, looking over at the man for the first time. He hadn’t even washed his hair, it looked stringy from grease and sweat, even in the night. You let out a sound of disgust as he blew the smoke out towards you, flicking the mostly finished butt to the ground.

You both hated each other. You hated each other just a little more after your secret meetings in the woods. He was a disrespectful, slimy rat.

He knew it too.

But you were the woman who kept coming back for more.

Micah closed the gap between you, roughly taking your waist and pulling you against him. Even through the material of your skirt you could feel he was hard. You felt a throb in your center as you couldn’t help but grind against him slightly. He leaned in to smell your hair, sighing in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Kiss me.” You demanded. He obliged willingly, holding you firmly around the waist with one arm, taking your face in his free hand and meeting your lips. His mustache itched your face, you never liked the feeling. He pushed the kiss deeper, the taste of the cigarette not masking his usual flavour. You groaned against him as he swiped his tongue hungrily over yours. “God, you’re disgusting,” you breathed when he finally pulled himself away. He laughed in response before moving to kiss your neck. That damn mustache. You pulled his head roughly against you and he found a spot to bite down on. You couldn’t help but gasp.

“You’re so dirty…” he groaned as he cupped your ass, pushing your shoulders back against the tree you’d previously leaned on. “My dirty whore,” he groaned between rough kisses down to the nape of your neck.

“Fuck you,” you replied, the sneer audible in your voice despite your breath getting heavier at his touch.

“Mmm hmm hmm,” he chuckled against your skin, “maybe you’re right, you’re not a whore,” he planted more kisses along your neck until he was standing upright again to look in your eyes, “you won’t let me pay you.”

You slapped him.

His eyes were wide as he registered what you’d done before a lusty smile took over his face. “Bad girl,” he chastised before grabbing your throat, pushing you back and kissing you deeply once more. You couldn’t have fought him off if you wanted to, he was surprisingly strong. Instead you grabbed the back of his head again and pulled him in hard kissing him back just as deeply, drool escaping the corner of where your mouths connected. You bit his lower lip as he tried to pull away and he growled in reply, moving down to your neck again to plant more rough kisses and bites. Keeping one hand on your ass, he reached up to cup a breast, groaning at its softness in his hand. You knew he hardly deserved to enjoy your body like this, but feeling degraded by him ignited a feeling in you like nothing else had.

“Fuck me already you snake,” You hissed as he left another mark on your collarbone.

“With pleasure,” he laughed, turning you around and pressing your chest against the tree. He unceremoniously flipped your skirt up and you moaned in twisted lust at his disrespect. Normally he’d enter you immediately, but this time he took a moment to admire your body in the moonlight. He let out a soft groan as he peeled back your undergarments, exposing your sweet sex to the night air. For the first time ever he lowered to his knees and swiped his tongue along the slit. You gasped at the unfamiliar sensation.

“What the hell are you doing back there?” You questioned apprehensively, though you tried to sound pissed off.

“Ain’t I allowed to admire how wet I make you?” he replied lewdly, taking another pass with his tongue at you. You shivered at the feeling, all at once turned on more and disgusted with yourself for loving it. He paused his work briefly as you heard the sound of his trousers opening. You expected him to stand and enter you finally but instead he pressed his mouth back to your center, kissing it hungrily as you heard what sounded like him touching himself. A wave of pleasure coursed through you at the sounds of him moaning against you, enjoying your body for the first time as more than just a hole to dump his seed.

Your body tensed as the pressure of your high built, your breath quickened and your hips pushed back against him involuntarily as he worked relentlessly with his mouth. Suddenly as your pleasure nearly peeked he pulled away from you. The cold air hit immediately and you moaned remorsefully at the absence of his touch. “No…” you groaned helplessly.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked mockingly, swiping a finger along your slit, chuckling at your hips bucking reflexively.

“I could ask you the s-” you gasped at his touch again before continuing, “-same. Take me already you bastard.”

Instead of doing what you’d asked, he slipped two of his fingers inside you and pressed his mouth to your clit, licking and sucking it mercilessly. You stopped yourself from crying out by chomping down on the back of your hand though that did nothing to stop the torrent of needy moans he drew from you. It took only moments for your high to build back up, your hips bucked against his hand as the pressure grew again. You could feel yourself involuntarily gripping his fingers with your internal muscles when he withdrew them, once more pulling away from you with a dark chuckle at your cry of distress.

“What the fuck?” you cried incredulously. He laughed in reply which made your chest burn with anger. “Why won’t you just fuck me already? I have things to do!” You lied, frustrated, but he knew there was nothing left at camp to finish.

“I love watchin’ you squirm for me,” He breathed, swiping his fingers along your wet slit before pressing them into you once again, chuckling triumphantly when you groaned needily.

He’d found a new way to torment you and he was loving it. You knew you could walk away, finish yourself off alone, end the suffering you felt deep in your core, but you craved him. You knew it wouldn’t be the same without him buried to the hilt inside you. Finally you were reduced to degrading yourself further by begging for him. “Please Micah…” you gasped softly as he stroked that perfect place inside you, pulling another involuntary sound out of you. You could hear the smile on his face as he groaned hornily in reply.

“What did you say?” He asked innocently, suddenly stroking that sensitive place harder in a circular motion.

Your eyes flew open at the intense pressure from his fingers, your mouth hung open uselessly, breath caught in your throat as you endured the pleasure. When he finally relented you felt yourself throbbing around his fingers, you ached for more. Needing a second to catch your breath, you whispered, “Please Micah, please fuck me.”

He sighed in a satisfied way as he withdrew his fingers and stood. He put his hand, shiny with your wetness, in front of your face. “Be a doll and clean me off.” He demanded, looking down at you with a devilish glint in his eye. You hesitated for a second, looking between him and his hand before obeying, taking his fingers into your mouth. You were slightly relieved it tasted good, though he didn’t deserve it. Chuckling darkly as you complied with his lewd request, he pressed the tip of his cock gently against your opening. You couldn’t help but be immensely turned on by it all. He was such a filthy, horrible man. He groaned as he took his hand back and rested it on the side of your ass, admiring the view. Even in the dim light of the moon he could see it all clearly. He rocked the tip slowly against your opening, pulling just far enough away when you tried to push back on him.

“Ah ah ah,” he chastised. “Now, what were you sayin’ earlier?”

You scoffed. Gritting your teeth, you mumbled, “Please.”

He withdrew his cock entirely from you, the absence of its warmth leaving you feeling gutted. “Nicer than that.”

You whimpered before relenting softer, “Please, Micah... please…”

“Good girl,” he cooed before thrusting himself to the hilt inside you. You cried out as he groaned deeply. He stayed mostly still, only gently grinding himself deeper as he mercifully gave you a chance to adjust. As slicked as you were, he was thick. Though you’d never admit it to him, the way he stretched you out felt very good. After a pause he began to move, pulling almost entirely out and slamming back in a few times before finding a generous pace that worked well for both of you. You felt yourself throb around him as you listened to his involuntary moans. He was loving the way you squeezed his every inch. “Reach your hand back and pleasure yourself.” He demanded through groans. You obliged, moving the fabric of your skirt aside and rubbing your sensitive nub as he continued to thrust relentlessly. The angle you were at from reaching back made it so he was striking the perfect place inside of you.

It didn’t take more than a minute to feel yourself getting desperately close to your high again. As the pressure built to the brink of no return he finally let it come over you, pressing his hips firmly against yours, achieving his own release simultaneously. He gasped and panted as you felt him throbbing inside you, unloading everything he had as deeply as he could. Your muscles tensed as you choked out a sob of pleasure, gripping tightly around him, milking him for all he was worth.

As you both came down from your highs he slumped his body over yours briefly, reaching a tired hand up to your arm to caress you gently. You let it happen for a minute before saying with false impatience, “alright get off of me already.”

He chuckled softly as he regained his posture, pushing into you once more with his slowly softening member, drawing a final gasp from your lips before pulling away, leaving you a dripping mess as his fluid leaked lazily out. You’d clean yourself up later, for now you just pulled your bloomers up and fixed your skirt back in place as Micah tucked himself away again and fastened his trousers.

You pulled out a new cigarette and lit it to get the taste of him out of your mouth. He sniffed satisfied and looked back saying with a laugh, “Same time next week?”

“Fuck you.” you replied, flicking the burnt match to the ground with a smirk.

#Micah Bell #Micah Bell x reader #rdr2 smut #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #daily escuella

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genshingarbage · 3 years

Note

hoii, is it okay if I request something with Diluc and Kaeya ? like, gn!reader feels very alone and unloved, because they can't make/keep friends and their family doesn't pay much attention to them ?

and if it's not too much, can the men be like big brother or father figures to the reader ?

it's okie if you don't want to write it!

have a good day/night ♡

This is too cute. Bless. Both I and Mod Kaeya worked together on this one, take a guess who wrote for who lmao hope this is okay sweetie! - Mod Diluc

I'll Always Care.

|| One - Shot ||

Kaeya / Diluc

Diluc

The sun was beating down like normal, the heat was unbearable and it was making you itch and sweat like nobodies business. You felt stuffy and so uncomfortable, but maybe you could give the sun a break from your insults; because deep down it wasn't the sun making you feel like utter nothingness right now. It was the fact you yet again were reminded of the harsh fact that no one cares for you, not even your own mother can pretend to wear a smile around you.

First your mother sighed and brushed you off this morning like a pestering bug, and to rub insult to injury your small group of friends (if you could even call them that.) Had conveniently forgotten to secure a place for you to go with them all on their expedition today. So here you were alone, curled up with your knees pressed against your chest and your eyes closed as to try prevent the threat of tears: despite you trying to convince yourself it's just to block the sunlight, even though you're under a tree that's already blocking the sun indefinitely.

You felt the pain sinking further inside you now and it just stung worse and worse. Why? Why do you always get forgotten about... why do they never care how you're feeling? No one seems to understand you ever. Was this world even meant for someone like you? You debated it sometimes, but all it ever did was work you up more into a crying mess because even if you'd conclude you're better off dead- you'd never have the guts to kill yourself; and you'd be way too terrified to let someone or something else do it for you.

Your head sunk further into your arms that coiled round your frail frame as you began to sniffle and sob softly. Your ears were ringing and your head was hurting so much from how much you'd been on and off crying the past two hours by yourself, nothing but the breeze and butterflies to keep you company in your own misery. Life was cruel, and you were starting to resent it in a whole. But all you could so was curl up and cry like you always do, why can you never fix yourself? Stupid.

You practically leaped out your skin however, shooting your head up fast, almost giving yourself whiplash from the force you done it at. The squeeze on your shoulder was most unexpected and most definitely an understatement to how shaken up you were. You felt the scream aching in your throat about to fly out your lips when you saw who it was, Diluc. His crimson eyes staring down at you, the matching hair tied neatly into a ponytail behind him. His claymore resting on his shoulder effortlessly.

"Why are you crying Y/N?" He spoke sternly, but under that tone you could hear the concern in his voice; as poorly as he was at showing his emotions on a day to day basis. You sniffed hard, an involuntarily rub of your eyes and nose following behind as you blinked away the tears quickly. "I- I'm not. Just resting is all." You wanted to cringe at your poor excuse there yourself, your voice was wavering in tone and cracking so badly, why did you even bother to lie?

He let out a deep sigh before slipping his claymore off his shoulder and swinging it in a circle before letting it peirce into the dirt, securing its position he let it go and stepped next to you, bending down and taking a seat beside you now. Inviting himself into your private affairs had become common ground for you now, then it hit you. He is always around when you feel at your lowest. You looked at him with a bewildered expression, eyebrow raised. The look of utter confusion evident on your face.

Finally he turned his head to you and then looked forward again, one of his knees lifting up for him to rest his arm on, the other sliding round the back of your neck and gently pulling you into his chest. You were confused at first, but then it hit you, he was hugging you and comforting you, in his best efforts at least. You laid there against him, cuddled up to him, your head pounding, your throat sore from crying, your eyes stinging. Face flushed red from your inner rage. You really looked like a mess right now.

"Rest. You need it. When someone's cried at lot it helps to get rest after." He spoke matter of fact like to you. You lifted your head ever so slightly about to attempt another pitiful protest, but his hand came up to your head and softly stroked through your hair. "Rest." He added. That silenced you and simply closed your eyes, feeling not so alone anymore and at actually at ease. He always helps you feel better, no matter how small of an action it was.

He always makes you feel loved and cared for, if you could describe Diluc in one word, it would be big brother. He really was like a big brother to you, always there to cheer you up and make you feel better, always there to remind you that you're not as alone as you always think you are. He's always kept you safe and always put you first before himself even sometimes. A smile crept onto your face ever so slightly when all of this was resurfaced in your mind.

You truly were grateful to have a friend like Diluc, even if you have no one else that's by your side, he is, and he always will be. "Thank you." You muttered the words ever so softly and breath like, as you'd mutter them out in your sleep, while your head rested against his chest. His eyes slowly trailed to the side, looking down at your peaceful sleeping state. His hand still stroking through your hair as it kept you huddled up to him. Not that you'd ever see it or know of it, a small smile made its way onto his lips too.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N".

Kaeya

The lanky man found you in his guest bedroom, knees tucked under you chin with a cloak of thick duvets framing your clearly exhausted face. He sighed softly before beginning to pat over to you, chocolate milk in hand and heart on his sleeve.

Once you’d noticed him making his way over you shifted under the blankets to let him crawl into the little cave you’d constructed yourself. He placed the glass onto the night stand, interrupting the somber silence of the room with a gentle clink of glass against hardwood, then turned to you in order to pull you into his broad chest. He gently rubbed your back as his icy eyes observed the room with it’s askew drawers and new adornments of thrown pillows and tossed weapons or tools. The gentle moonlight pouring in from the still open curtain, tarnishing the peachy walls a soft periwinkle blue only telling him of the sadness you were feeling.

“You can stay here as long as you need.”

“I know Sir Kaeya.”

Your sniffles broke his heart a little, the way you buried your head into his nightshirt even more so. You were some sort of enigma to him. Like a puzzle he couldn’t solve yet was made of pieces of a mirror he had shattered.

You reminded him so much of how he was after Diluc had…well…

The blue haired man pulled you closer to him to bury his nose in your hair, beginning to frown, “Will you tell me what happened?”

“It is not really what has happened and more what keeps happening honestly.” Your voice was muffled slightly but he could still hear it clearly through your tight words forcing their way out of your throat. You didn’t really have the heart to tell him that since you became an adventurer your parents had all but kicked you out because they didn’t want to deal with the likely chance you wouldn’t be making any sort of money with your dream job. Your friends had began to leave one by one with teasing remarks about joining your adventure team or horrific monsters, leaving to study in far off corners of the world.

You were completely and utterly alone, with only Kaeya at your side. It didn’t take the feeling of his arms tightening around you to tell you he could already sense what you were thinking about.

“They weren’t your family or friends if they simply tossed you aside y’know? You should not spare them another thought.” He muttered this softly into your hair, hoping you could somehow find comfort in his backwards way of thinking. As much as he wanted to toughen you up…he didn’t want you to become him.

He’s well aware of your plights, has been since you were a kid and he was a fresh young face in the knights even if he doesn’t necessarily know what happened today to cause you to spiral into such a state. Maybe that’s why he took you in. He’d ponder over it as he tucked you in, brushing your hair out of your face afore lightly stepping out of the room to leave you to sleep finally.

#kaeya #diluc #genshin blog #genshinimpact #genshin #genshin fanfic blog #kaeya fic #diluc fic #kaeya fanfic #diluc fanfic #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya oneshot #diluc oneshot #diluc fluff #kaeya fluff

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

everything happens for a reason part 5 - zuko x fem!reader

I can go anywhere I want, I can go anywhere just not home

part 4 | masterlist | part 6

a/n: this was hard to get going but once i got to the end the words just flowed. ive come to the conclusion that writing dialogue with katara is my favorite thing to do

warning(s): nightmare at the beginning, survivor's guilt from y/n, some internalized homophobia :-( but aside from that its mostly fluff

wc: 3.6k

chapter title comes from my tears ricochet by taylor swift!

She was trapped.

It was a prison of never ending hallways in some kind of infinite void, complete with the rank stench of death and an innate feeling of hopelessness.

Y/N knew this place. It had been the subject of her nightmares on countless occasions, because it was where she was supposed to be. She had no choice but to start down the pathway of cracked stone — she knew what awaited her, but it was the only way out. She had developed some sick sense of awareness in this nightmare and it didn’t do her any favors.

She began to walk hastily down the path, the itch of paranoia already plaguing the back of her mind. Countless times she had been here, and yet it never got better.

Before Y/N knew it, she had reached her unwanted destination. The first tangible thing in what felt like miles was a prison cell, and she pushed forward despite knowing what awaited her. It was the only way.

“It wasn’t the only way.”

She froze, inhaling sharply as the dreamscape seemed to pull her thoughts out of her mind, and she forced herself to take another step closer, the inhabitant of the cell now visible.

“You did this to me.”

It was her mother, but… not quite her. Her voice strained and stiff, a gaunt appearance with cruel eyes, hunched over in a prison cell. Any sign of the woman Y/N knew her as was gone, and it was her fault. She was the reason Kura was gone — a mother’s ultimate sacrifice because her daughter was too stuck in her head.

“How could you do this to me?” she asked. “How could you be so selfish?”

Y/N tried to respond, but she couldn’t. It was no use anyway — her words would’ve come out in broken, pleading rambles to someone who couldn’t hear a thing. She knew it was fake, she knew this was a nightmare, but it still hurt all the same.

She had imagined her mother saying those words to her so many times they had found their way into her nightmares despite knowing that Kura would never utter a single syllable true to her fears. She had all but killed her mother, and instead of remembering her for what she had done for Y/N, she appeared in her nightmares.

She was a horrible daughter.

She heard footsteps and whirled around, instinctively taking a step back and wincing as her back slammed into the bars. A tall, dark figure creeped towards her and her breath caught in her throat — as it came into the light, she recognized him as the Fire Lord.

He chuckled coldly as he neared ever closer, the path he walked turning to flames behind him. Her eyes darted around for an escape only to find that everything was on fire. It was suffocating, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and when she turned to look for her mother she was gone. Everything was gone, her dark void now a prison of flames.

She turned around once more and Ozai was right in front of her, the fire in his hands glowing red hot and a cruel smile on his lips.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

She shot up in her bed, a scream on the edge of her lips but just barely managing to hold it back. Ragged breaths were ripped from her chest, her eyes shooting around wildly as she attempted to find anything at all to ground her. It took a few minutes, but with repeated mantras of it was just a dream and you are safe, she was able to calm down.

She pulled her knees to her chest and exhaled long and deep before pulling herself out of bed. It seemed that her day was going to be starting much earlier than planned.

Four years had passed since her arrival at the Northern Water Tribe, but the nightmares never ceased. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself she had done the right thing, that it was what her mother wanted, that if she stayed she would’ve died — she was constantly haunted by her past actions and memories of the Fire Nation.

She hasn’t taken off the necklace since her mother gave it to her, no matter what she does. It’s almost become a part of her now — a memory of Kura and her selflessness that knew no bounds, as well as a grim reminder of what it cost to get her here.

The Northern Water Tribe itself held countless memories of her mother — after all, it was where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. Her name was well known throughout the tribe with nobles and elders alike, and it amazed Y/N to no end the impact that her mother left everywhere she went. She loved hearing stories about her mother and what she was like as a child, but it was always bittersweet.

She always carried an inherent sense of guilt with her because of who she lived with — her mother hadn’t been lying when she said that the necklace would get them to help her. Kura’s parents still lived in the tribe, and they had taken Y/N in after she revealed who she was. They loved her unconditionally and never made her feel like a burden, but Y/N would be lying to herself if she didn’t think they blamed her for the fate that befell her mother.

After all, she did.

She had never told anyone the full story of why she ran though. It was one thing to leave her mother behind for certain death because of the Fire Lord’s rage, it was another thing to admit that it was wholly her fault because she had fallen for a prince.

Zuko.

Not a day went by where she didn’t think of him. She still held the hope that she would see him again someday, but in lieu of travel she turned to letters.

Y/N had a shelf full of unmailed letters addressed to both Zuko and her mother — it was a way to get out her emotions whenever she was feeling particularly homesick or hopeless, and it did help at first, but after four years it had become something born out of habit rather than necessity.

She still wrote them though — Y/N had learned to hold onto any form of hope she could muster up, no matter how small, and in this moment she needed some.

She opened her shelf and rifled through piles upon piles of letters, some finished, some hardly started, and some crumpled from fits of rage, and her breath caught in her throat when her fingers brushed something different. Y/N pulled the material out and nearly started crying right then and there.

It was an unbelievably simple patch of fabric, but it meant the world to her — something that she had bought during her last night with Zuko, and one of the only pieces of material to have survived her journey to the Northern Water Tribe. She was forced to sell the rest of the fabric she had brought with her in order to make some easy money while on the run, but she had kept this as a memento. She could almost be brought back to the final sunset they shared if she looked at it for long enough.

Y/N bit down hard on her lip to stop the tears and shoved it back into the drawer before closing it and leaving her room in a haste. Sometimes she wasn’t strong enough to handle the memories.

She made her way to the living room and let out a sigh of relief when she noticed the silence. Y/N had never told her grandparents about the nightmares, and right now she just needed some time to herself. Never before was she so thankful for her grandmother’s gossiping nature and her grandfather’s work than she was in the mornings where she just wanted to be alone.

She sat down on the floor, not even bothering to get a cushion, and stared at her hands. Once smooth and untouched by the world, they were now rough and calloused with wrapped bandages resting just below her wrist. Permanent memories of what it took to get here. The ever present reminder that nothing came without a cost.

This morning seemed to be one full of yearning for the past. Y/N tried to shake her feelings off and got up once more, contemplating some steamed sea prunes before deeming it fruitless. Her appetite was lacking after her trip down memory lane.

She walked back to her room and got dressed hastily then ran out the door, but not before plucking a gift from her shelf. Today marked the birthday of a certain princess, and Y/N had to go fast if she was going to get it to her before class.

She was immediately hit by the frigid air of the North, pulling her anorak tighter around her frame as she began to run to the canals — one could always find Princess Yue there in the mornings — doing her best to avoid anyone else walking.

Y/N saw Yue just about to board one of the boats and sped up, waving one of her arms as a signal. “Yue, wait!”

She turned and her face immediately brightened up at the sight of Y/N, raising her open palm so the boatman would hold up. “Y/N! Would you like to join me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Yue’s nod prompted a shrug as she dropped down carefully into the gondola, taking extra care not to drop her gift, and took a seat next to her friend.

“This is a nice surprise,” Yue smiled as the boatman began to waterbend, effectively moving their gondola through the canal. “But if I might ask, what brought you here so early?”

Y/N laughed, thinking her reason for coming here obvious. “It’s your birthday, princess! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to wish you well in person?”

Her smile grew even brighter, the corners of her eyes creasing up in the way that made some kind of warmth blossom in Y/N’s chest. “Thank you! That’s so sweet — I’m especially honored that you woke up early just for me.”

“Of course.” Y/N brandished the gift she had been doing her best to hide, unable to do the same for her own smile. “And here’s your gift! I sewed it all myself.”

Yue gasped as she took the creation, giving it a slight squeeze and a thorough investigation before absolutely beaming. “You made me an otter penguin— oh, you know how much I love these!”

She wrapped Y/N in a tight hug before pulling away, but it was just long enough for the heat to rush to her cheeks. “Thank you so much, really. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Y/N beamed at the praise and nodded, shifting a little in her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m glad you like it so much.”

The two girls grinned at each other then turned their gaze to the horizon, content to spend the rest of the ride together in comfortable silence.

Her friendship with the princess of the Northern Water Tribe was something that Y/N cherished with all her heart. She could confidently say that Princess Yue was her best friend, and she hoped it was a notion that Yue shared. As beautiful as she was kind, the princess always had a way of making her feel better on the hardest days — Yue was the only one who knew the whole truth of what happened in the Fire Nation, and she offered nothing but sympathy.

Y/N honestly didn’t know what she would do without Yue. She had been her rock during the whole process of getting situated in the tribe, always lending a helping hand when she stumbled in class or was completely oblivious to something in their culture, and she never made her feel stupid, or unwanted, or less-than for what she had come from.

The only thing that confused her about Yue was the feeling she got whenever Y/N was around her. The rushes of heat to her cheeks, the warmth blossoming in her chest, and the unusual happiness she felt anytime Yue smiled at her. The most peculiar of it all was the strange tug of jealousy any time a noble boy tried to flirt with the princess, and nothing but disinterest whenever they tried an angle on her instead.

She didn’t know what any of it meant, but she had the sneaking suspicion that it was wrong. So Y/N did the only thing she could and suppressed it.

Soon enough, though much to their chagrin, Y/N had to leave. After some exchanged hugs and one last wish of happy birthday, Y/N took off for her morning healing class. But as she hurried down the icy paths, she caught sight of the most peculiar thing.

A giant flying bison was being led through the canals with a team of waterbenders, three kids that couldn’t be any older than her on its back. One had an arrow on his head and sported orange and yellow robes, while the other two looked to be of Water Tribe descent.

Her interest was irrefutably piqued, but she didn’t have any more time to waste with gawking. So she began to run once again, apologies spilling from her lips as she maneuvered through the groups of people all just as awestruck by the strange arrival as she was. Y/N made a mental note to ask Yue about it later, but for now she was running very late to her healing class.

Sure enough, a few hours later, Y/N was able to get the answers she had been craving. She met up with Yue outside of the palace, and during a short walk, she learned that the boy was the Avatar. He had come to the Northern Water Tribe to master waterbending, and the two kids with him were his companions from the Southern Tribe — much to her excitement, the girl was a waterbender.

Needless to say, Y/N was even more enthusiastic than before, and Yue made her day by confirming that they would be coming to her birthday celebration that night as honored guests. She had already talked to her father about allowing Y/N to sit with her and he had said yes, which meant that she would get to meet him and his friends in person — it just served as a reminder that Y/N had no idea what she would do without Yue.

After what felt like hours of passing the time with lost games of Pai Sho against her grandfather and failed attempts at finishing her homework, it was finally time for the banquet. Once she arrived at the front of the palace she bid goodbye to her grandparents and went to find the seat that Yue had secured for her.

She settled down in the empty spot next to what she assumed was Yue’s — it was her birthday after all, so a dramatic entrance wasn’t out of the question — and nervously glanced at the three visitors, trying to figure out how to introduce herself.

Thankfully, she was saved when the girl met her eyes and waved, offering a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Katara; this is my brother Sokka, and that’s Aang.” She gestured in their direction with her head when she said their names and they both smiled and gave her polite nods.

She returned the sentiment gratefully. “I’m Y/N— I’m one of Princess Yue’s friends. Welcome to the Northern Water Tribe!”

“Thanks!” Aang said. “We’re here to find a master so Katara and I can master waterbending.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Master Pakku is one of the best there is, and even though he’s a total jerk, he’ll be able to teach you everything you need to know. And Katara, we have some amazing healing teachers— I can bring you along to my class tomorrow if you’re interested!”

Katara’s eyes lit up. “You’re a waterbender too?” When Y/N nodded, her smile grew even bigger, though slightly wistful.

“I’d really appreciate that,” she admitted, though her brows knit together. “But I’d like to learn from Master Pakku as well.”

Y/N frowned, about to correct her, when the distinct sound of drums began to echo throughout the hall. Her displeasure immediately disappeared as she grinned at them all excitedly, gesturing with her head towards the action.

Chief Arnook stood up from his spot and their table, his low voice booming. “Tonight, we celebrate the arrival of our brother and sister from the Southern Tribe. And they have brought with them someone very special, someone whom many of us believed disappeared from the world until now… the Avatar!”

Y/N’s own applause joined a symphony of others clapping and cheering as Aang waved bashfully, and once it died down, Arnook continued. “We also celebrate my daughter’s sixteenth birthday. Princess Yue is now of marrying age!”

She grinned as Yue walked out alongside her attendants — she would never get used to her beauty. Y/N noticed the way that Sokka’s eyes widened as he stared at her, and her stomach twisted at the act for some unknown reason.

“Thank you, Father,” she said. “May the great Ocean and Moon Spirits watch over us during these troubled times!”

Arnook smiled at his daughter and directed his attention back to his people. “Now, Master Pakku and his students will perform!”

She could tell that Katara and Aang were enraptured by the bending, while Sokka’s attention was already on Yue as she walked over to sit between Sokka and Y/N.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Yue exclaimed, greeting her friend with a short embrace.

Y/N gave her a sideways smile. “If you think that I would miss your birthday and a banquet, then I’m afraid you’re out of practice on Y/N trivia.”

The princess laughed and nodded amiably then turned her attention to Sokka, ever the diplomat.

“Hi there,” he grinned. “Sokka, Southern Water Tribe.”

Yue returned the sentiment and gave him a slight bow. “Very nice to meet you.”

As their conversation went on, Y/N found herself tuning out a bit. For whatever reason, she had to actively stop herself from rolling her eyes at Sokka’s flirting, that same feeling in her stomach coming back. She made a mental note to see a healer about her issues.

“Hey, Y/N!” She snapped out of her self-imposed trance at the sound of Katara calling her name as she gestured for her to come over. It looked like Aang had gotten up to converse with Master Pakku and Chief Arnook, so she took the invitation and switched seats.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to finally be here,” Katara said once Y/N had settled next to her. “Back home, I’m the only waterbender. Here… it’s like paradise. It almost feels too good to be true. I mean, even seeing you is crazy — I’ve never met a waterbender my age.”

Y/N smiled, though not without a hint of sadness. “I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for you to be able to experience this. How are you the only bender left down there?”

Katara was silent for a moment, a flurry of emotions warring on her face, before she answered. “The Southern Tribe hasn’t fared half as well as the Northern Tribe during the war. We don’t have one big, huge capital like this, we’re all split up into small villages. The Fire Nation has just been relentless with their raids, and without support from the North and a lack of communication between our sister tribes in the South, they were able to wipe us all out. Except for me.”

“Spirits, Katara…” Y/N set an amiable hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping that her softened expression could say what her words couldn’t. “My village was invaded when I was young, too. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

She nodded pensively but managed to meet her eyes with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your village as well.” Her gaze drifted off, once again taking in the view around them, and when Katara met her eyes again she seemed better. “But we’re here now, and I’m planning to take advantage of everything I can, starting with all this food. Which one of these is your favorite?”

Y/N grinned as Katara pointed at the platter of various dishes in front of them. “Oh, you’ve got to try this. See that giant crab up there? That’s what this is, and you have not lived until you have tried Northern crab.”

Conversation flowed just as easily through the rest of the night between the two girls, occasionally switching to include Sokka and Yue and eventually Aang once he returned. Between the swells of pride whenever they laughed at her jokes, getting to learn about all three of them, and the almost palpable euphoria in the air, Y/N was sure of one thing:

This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. She could only hope it would last.

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27 @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko x reader fic #zuko #avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #avatar fic #reader insert #avatar x reader #sadie writes #ehfar #y/n is having bi panic when she doesn't even know wtf the fuck bi is #she can't help it that her friend is the prettiest girl in the world

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soobmint · 4 years

Text

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. ��Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

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