#just two more semesters after this sobs

[blastgale]

okay nvm can’t have anything nice in college

[rinnstars]

just right!

you think youre too much for rin, and rin thinks hes too little for you

itoshi rin x reader: pre-rs, friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst w comfort, fluff at the end!!!!, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated <3

its fate you think for things to remain the same with rin. after all, why wish for more? the hands that lay beside each other as you sit on the bench eating your lunch that seems to almost touch to start an electric shock that course through your body, the conversations that tiptoe the line between just friends to something much closer to soulmates the way yours and his brain seem to sync perfectly as one, the way the universe seem to put you two in the same orbit from going to the same school, to moving to the same neighbourhood, to sitting next to each other every class every semester - you should be satisfied, no you should be thankful for the luck that you must have gotten from finding a four-leaved clover the same day you met rin at the playground you think.

to anyone else, hell even to you, you two are no peas in the same pod. youre the polar opposite of him - you make friends easily like its second nature (but in your heart, they just don’t merge as well as you do with rin), you smile at every single thing, laughter bursting out of you without a single hesitation (but with rin, you think its your real laughter that flows out rather than out of politeness or awkwardness), you dress a little too eccentric with different and contrasting colours against the plain and boring uniform that seems out of place. and he’s the polar opposite of you - he practically hangs out with out because he has no one else (that makes you wonder if he’s just here because he has no one else), he has a resting frown on his face (that you think makes him even more adorable from the side of your peripheral vision), and he always wear that boring black bag that matches perfectly with the plain old school uniform.

sometimes you wonder if youre too much - you talk a little too much that you think his lips hide a grimace when it moves just a little from the frown that is always held tightly on his face, you ask too much, always wanting to hang out after school right before he has to run to football practice, you think too much, always asking questions that seem to make his face scrunch up in confusion during class or at the bench as you are right now. to anyone, this would be ideal right? its practically the dynamic being pushed in mangas and online - golden retriever with a black cat, that tiktok trend of okokok and lalala, yapper and listener dynamic. yet, you can’t help but to realise you two really don’t seem to belong in the same world - you long to stay here right in this neighbourhood that you practically memorised each and every store and their owners by heart, you long to just be another face in the crowd writing for the rest of your life but one that brightens and blooms others with your presence, and you long to live in a little cute house opposite that convenience store that you go to school everyday after school with rin, and you know he longs to spend his life overseas being a football stars, he longs to be the new football genius and prodigy in the entire world, and he longs to live anywhere but this town that seems a little too small for him. its ironic, you think, that your ambitions and personality are totally opposite, yet the world chose to put you and him right next to each other, even temporary.

and sooner or later you think, your feelings, that you know are too much for just another friend of yours, will burst - you might yell at him, hidden emotions kept away at the burning frustrations with each hint that lingers a little too long, you might cry and sob one day at one of your regular sleepover and become inconsolable as he realises that youre really too much, or one day you might really unconsciously confess your love for him and ruin this perfect dynamic that has already been served to you on a silver platter. and so you keep a lid on your feelings, you rather write and tear up papers in your room and clean up the mess before he comes over, you rather spend nights alone crying and cursing the world for not making you a little more like him so you could at least have the ambitions that rivals and chases after his, and you rather throw away countless of love letters that you wrote every valentine you spent with him. but for now, you’ll keep quiet, you’ll sit down here with your hands so close that you might just get a electric shock either way, you’ll eat your sandwich that matches with his, you’ll look at him with the same smile that he’s gotten used to as he chews on the sugary-sweet fruit sandwich that leaves a little white cream stain on his lips.

rin thinks that he really should thank whatever god there is out there as he sits here with you beside him, your hands so close to his that he practically has to physically hold himself back from moving a little closer until his and yours merge and fit perfectly like a puzzle piece, your unconcious hum that seem like music to his ears practically relieve him of all the stress that was unconsciously held even after mediation, right on the bench that is practically yours and his the way you and him come to eat here every lunch without any exceptions.

hes aware of lingering glances by his classmates on you and him - and he knows its judgemental and nothing kind to him. the whispers when you come to his table every time class ends as though on instincts whilst all he does is sit down there and do nothing but listen to you, the whispers when he sees you waiting at the library quietly before you brighten up when your eyes meet his, the whispers when you’re with him. maybe its insecurity, but he knows he’ll never be enough. he thinks youre better off with anyone but him - better off with your club members who understand your passion for writing and share with you their favourite writings compared to him who writes simply in order to one day move overseas as a professional football player, better off with your other classmates that actually pay attention in class unlike him who can better help you and do your homework with rather than sitting down at his table whilst he reads another football magazine, better off with even those guy classmates that he cant stand because of their loud voices because at least they seem to match your energy. even more, he thinks hes really a terrible friend, not even considering his crush on you, when he hears you chat about something excitedly only to trail off whenever youre with him, when he feels you pull yourself a little too fast from the hug you initiate compared to anyone else, when he knows youre terrified to say something but he can do nothing but stay here.

on some days, he wonders if you’ll eventually leave him too. he knows its for the better - you’ll get to know other people that can actually care and love you the way he knows he can’t with how bad he is at expressing himself, you’ll get to chat and talk someone’s ears off much happily without any judgement the way that you seem to be unable to do so with him, you’ll no longer have to hold your own personality back anymore. but deep down, he doesn’t want that. he doesn’t want to be left behind again - alone on the park bench with a ghost of you as he bites into the now bitter-sweet fruit sandwich that he deep down doesn’t really like but eats for you, alone on the table as you move about excitedly all cheerily to talk to anyone but him the one beside you, alone in his room having to play horror games all alone listen to the playlist he made for you all alone. now that he knows what it feels like to have someone, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore especially after he finds out how deep it can hurt - feeling as though his corpse sometimes still lay in the winter snow right where his brother left him.

and as he feels the red strings around yours and his finger pull harder and harder as though youre about to run away, he slowly feels more desperate to hold onto whatever little of this relationship is left. he knows logically, all friendships comes to an end, but he has always defied whatever the universe has set up for him - holding onto an impossible and thrown away dream of being better than his genius of an older brother, holding onto am faraway dream of being the world’s best striker right by his brother side and now holding onto a crumbling dream of staying right beside you for the rest of his life. he knows hes too little, and he knows there’s someone else better in this world than yours, after all youre only teenagers and nothing more than that could come out it. he knows he cant give you the world that you deserve, cant give you everything you want right now or maybe even in the future, but hes selfish. and of course its on another boring school day he gets this realisation, when he sees you peek at him without a word, as though you two are no longer in the same orbit anymore.

“you said you had something to tell me right?” a conversation starter, he tries, even though he normally doesn’t start the conversation, and he knows its still not enough, it’ll never be enough in his eyes.

“um… right… i..” and god, did you curse yourself. making it awkward, overthinking it - was that stuttering too much? did it annoy him?

its silence that follows afterwards - you don’t want to be too much to just confess your feelings, its just another day to him and you wouldn’t want to ruin it all selfishly. and in contrast, he no longer wants to be too little, he grips onto the plastic that leaves a little cream stain on his fingers.

“you know.. you can tell me anything.” and god, now he thinks he sounds pathetic and desperate, but your expression doesn’t seem to change from that expression that doesn’t suit your face at all - in contrast to the cheery expression you should always be sporting, you’re biting your lips nervously as though you two are in an examination room instead of at the park bench as per usual. has he messed up?

“i.. wait.. don’t freak out first.. promise?” an warning - because you know once you say it, there’s no going back. a risk you should take, a risk that you’ve seen taken right below this tree too ironically by classmates who profess their immature and yet undying love to their partners. would you be too much? you think ruin has rubbed off you a little too much when your mind tells no yells at you to be a little more selfish.

“promise.” he thinks he sees you smile a little, and he thinks hes gone back to his childhood where you and him first met - making a pinkie promise after you two fell down together to always stay together because it was fate to meet as you both fell down from the parkour part of the playground.

“.. i like you. a lot.” and of course youre too much, youre just a little too dramatic to add the additional bit that seems to slip off your tongue so naturally with countless of practice and failed attempts in front of your mirror in your room before collapsing on your bed kicking your feet and yelling against your pillow.

“i like you too. romantically.” and he thinks hes too little, such an anticlimactic return of love in contrast to all the love mangas you’ve talked to him about - no flowers, no necklaces, no nothing in his hand. but he sees your face bloom into a flower like as you grin, he thinks its alright.

you think youre too much and he thinks hes too little - but together, you’ll be just enough for each other - you both think, your hands and his moving together as electricity flows through yours and his body as though its the world way of telling you that both of you are made for each other, your face and his linger so close before finally you two cross the line as your lips merge with his perfectly as though you two are truly soulmates, and you think perhaps that the two four-leave clovers wasn’t just for you two to be friends for the rest of your life but something more as you tie it to his and yours wrist all those years back, it brushing against each other.

[taeslarityy]

dirty laundry ༄ dave york one shot (18+)

-> pairing: dark dave york x female reader

-> word count: 2.8k

-> summary: it’s a hot august week at the york’s lake house, which also happens to be the week you and your husband got married one year ago. your father in law — dave york — finds you changing in the laundry room and decides to give you a celebration of his own.

-> warnings/tags: father-in-law dave york, infidelity, dubcon, NON-CON, age gap (reader is 21, dave is nearing 50), SMUT 18+, heavy degradation(whore, slut, bitch), humiliation, dumbification, unprotected piv, sir kink, rough face-fucking, forced creampie, talk of pregnancy, reader is under the impression that she endures forced impregnation, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, semi naive reader, dave is not a cutesy nice man in this.. he honestly has no concern for readers feelings or pleasure. so please, if themes like dubious consent + non-con + blatant cheating are not ur forte, protect ur peace and scroll away!!

-> a/n: okay okay hiiiii. when i decided to participate in @hellishjoel ‘s #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i had a few ideas in mind. one happened to be this! but i felt more comfortable writing for joel and was confident in what i had planned. basically, this is opposite of that. no fluff or happy ending.. or even happy anything. so i wanted to share! thanks again kylee for letting me participate <3 and thank you to my beloved dearest @sweetpascal for aiding me yet again, i love u 🤍

let me know your thoughts!

DARK CONTENT BELOW: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

A huge part of growth, means acknowledging your mistakes.

When you failed your first semester of college, you knew it was from lack of trying and partying six days a week. So, you studied more and partied four days a week instead. When you slammed your brand new Mercedes into a flag pole, you knew it was from scrolling on Instagram which caused you to push accelerate rather than stop. So, you never went on your phone while driving again.

When you fell in love your sophomore year and decided to get married at twenty, you knew it was because you needed the well-off grad school bachelor, Daniel York. So, inadvertently, you settled. Now, a year later, you're sobbing in his family’s lake house bathroom because he somehow forgot that tonight was the eve of your wedding anniversary.

You feel like a complete and utter idiot. And for once in your life, you just might be. Staring at your reflection, you examine your appearance. You look effortlessly amazing today, after spending the day out on the boat. Hair, body and face all faintly sun-kissed. Your skin freshly shaved, legs and arms lathered in your favorite oil.

This was your final attempt to see if Daniel would stare at you with the same look of admiration he had so long ago. Your first attempt to ask him about starting your own family. Tonight was the night, and you were determined.

Briefly peeking out of the guest bathroom and down the hall, you decide you can rush into the laundry room only a few doors down. Everyone should seemly be downstairs, finishing up a game of Monopoly. You had the pleasure of winning two games in a row, pissing of the frightfully competitive York family. That’s when you decided to call it a night and head up to get ready for bed — bidding everyone a goodbye as you kissed your husband atop his head.

Wrapping your robe securely around your waist, you make your way towards the closed door and enter just as the dryer sings the most obnoxious 45 second tune that confirms the load is finished. Rich people shit, you mutter to yourself. Grabbing your bikini and sundress to hang up first, then laying out a sheer white silk sleeping dress with baby blue lace trim.

Looking back at the closed door, you conclude you should be fine to just throw it on before laying yourself out on your shared bed. Ready for your husband to see you so open and willing to be used by him. As your robe falls to your feet, a slight creek fills the silent space.

Whipping your head back and grabbing the nearest towel to cover yourself, you're met with an alluring glare from your husbands own dad. Your father-in-law, Dave York.

"Dave wha- what are you doing?" You question with a panic laced tone. Completely thrown off by the way he's leaning against the now locked door, hands in his wrinkle-free perfectly fitted black work slacks. His lack of response is louder than the faint trickle from the utility sink your bare-ass is pressed against.

Dave saunters over to you, his pristinely polished shoes clinking heavily with every step despite the minimal weight he's using. It's a commanding presence, shows how he doesn't have to storm over to establish authority. His handsome body towers over you and the faint hairs on your spine rapidly rise at the feeling of his warmth nearing your own naked body. Aside from the small washcloth that covers your crotch and arm across your heavy tits.

His veiny calloused wedding ring-wearing hand reaches next to you, finding the lace on your nightgown satisfyingly soft.

"Look at this, angel. Did you plan on wearing it for my inconsiderate son?" He remarks, looking into your wide eyes as his fingers continue to twist and feel at a piece of clothing that is filling you with an overbearing amount of embarrassment.

"I d- you weren't supposed to see that." The nervous confession brings a crooked grin to Dave's face.

"It's real pretty, just like you. Sexy even.... but I wouldn't waste my time putting something like this on for Daniel." Shaking his head at your frazzled state and utilizing that dismissive tone he does so well.

"W-why?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance at your innocent unknowing voice, Dave reaches a hand to slowly move your arm that's covering your plush chest. "Because, he left 10 minutes ago. Waved bye to me as I pulled into the driveway."

Now you're really fucking confused. Your husband never goes off without texting you to let you know, and why would he leave you alone at his parents home? Especially on the night prior to your anniversary.

"I don't understand. Did he tell you where he was going?" You probe at him, not processing the way his rough fingertips are skimming over your navel, up across your chest. Suddenly, you yelp as he pinches your pebbled nipple and grips under your adjacent perky breast. Your hand quickly grabs at his wrist, but he slaps it away — holding it at your waist.

"You really have nothing going on in that head of yours, huh? Just floating around being the perfect little wife for my son, is that right? Too stupid and blind to see that your husband cheats on you every living moment and only married you because you're nothing more than a sweet voice who’s gentle on the eyes." His painful out-of-pocket words paired with the twisting of your nipples has heavy tears brimming at your lashes. "Kind of him to make sure you're gentle on his old mans eyes too.... we always did share a type."

"Fuck you," you spit at him. You've never dared be rude to Dave, or anyone for that matter. But his condescending temper, sudden violations to your privacy paired with the already upsetting feelings you've been enduring today was a breaking point. As you rip your hand from his grasp prepared to rush out of the room, he grabs your throat in a vice grip. Landing a brutal smack on your cheek that causes your head to turn from the impact, just for him to use that same hand to yank your hair back to a straight position. Body now pressed against your own — you feel the washcloth protecting your femininity drop at your bare feet in terror.

"Hmm. Never heard you cuss before, sweetheart. Thought I taught my son to train his wife better than that."

A heavy tear streams down your now red swollen cheek, as you take in the hurtful message your father in law is clarifying. You're nothing but a piece of fuck meat, a trophy wife. But clearly not honored enough for your husband to use you. Humiliatingly, the way Dave's clothed body is up against your own, has your exposed cunt throbbing and leaking down your legs for him. You were good enough for Dave York, and that was an honor within itself.

"'M sorry," you murmur at the feel of his covered thigh spreading your leg and nudging into your soaked pussy.

Dave chuckles at your nearly cock drunk state, "haven't even touched you and your leaking on my dress pants. No wonder he keeps you around, you're just a perfect little slut willing to please."

"Y- yeaah," you sigh lightly humping his thigh, even though Dave didn't even ask a question. Something within you just wanted him to understand your body was his to use, despite both your sacred dedications to other partners. People so close to you. His son, your husband. Your mother-in-law, his wife.

He swiftly moves his thigh from between your legs, pinching your cheeks so they're puckered willing you to look at him with those glossed over doe-eyes he fucking leaks over. "Use that head and address me properly."

Your head swarms for a second, worried of his reaction to an incorrect title. Testing the waters, you whine, "yes, sir." The words muffled by the tight hold he has on your face.

With a sinister grin on his face, Dave pushes you down on the solid tile — hand still threaded through your hair to ensure your head movement is in his control.

"Look at that, your brain does work. Let's see about that mouth."

Yanking the zipper down, he pulls his semi-hard cock out and slaps it on your cheek, precum smearing slightly. As you eye his cock, you come to the realization that he's slightly bigger than his son at half mast, and you're gonna have to calm yourself to handle a monster like that.

"Are you gonna show me how good you take a cock down your throat? With those dick-sucking porn worthy lips?" Dave peers down at you. He has started to jerk himself to full length, his thumbs barely touching around his width.

"Yes, sir. I am."

The way your eyelids flutter up at him, so docile and unaware of just how vicious Dave intends to be on your needy body. It unlocks that fundamental primal male urge that he normally suppresses during sex.

"Open your mouth, bitch." As your tongue lolls out of your mouth obediently, a dribble of spit going down your chin to your neck to your tits gleams in the soft light. Dave grins as he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, touching at your sensitive uvula. You instantly attempt suppressing your rare gag reflex, body unprepared for his actions. "Nice job, knew you were meant to have your mouth filled."

Dave rips his fingers from you and smears the thick string of saliva across your face — slapping you across the face, rather gentle than before. As he grabs his cock and lines it up with your mouth, you inhale deeply. Seemly more aware of how Dave likes to be. Callous, straight-forward and dominant.

Before you can suck him into your mouth, Dave spits right on his cock — some of it landing on your moisturized lips — just to slam himself down your throat. Your eyes spring open looking up at him, polished hands gripping at his slack-covered thighs. You feel your left over slick on his right pant leg. The taste of his long day is heavy on your tongue as his balls nuzzle at your chin. You're overwhelmed with his scent. The hair at the base of his cock tickles your nose, stud piercing almost getting caught.

"Riiiight there, that's fucking it. What a real fucking whore."

Dave lets his head fall backwards, eyes on the ceiling as he feels you sputter around him, your spit dripping heavily down his balls and onto the tile between his legs. He's unsure on how long he looks upwards, until he feels the digging of your fingertips into him. When he looks down, your eyes are bulging — about to roll into the back of your skull. So he pulls off of you.

Your belligerent cough is almost too loud for comfort, so Dave jerks his cock and plops his full balls into your mouth. And like the eager girl you are, you suck them into your mouth. Licking at the seam between them, letting them bounce off of your tongue. You lick downwards, tonguing at his delicate perineum. That small but dirty act makes him groan loudly. Loud enough for someone on the second floor to hear.

Realizing he's getting too comfortable, he goes back to filling your mouth. Alternating between shallow fucking of the throat and just letting it bulge inside. His big hands wrapping around your neck to jerk himself through the thin hump of protruding skin.

When he hears the shrewd screech of his name from the mouth of his wife downstairs, he pulls out swiftly and yanks you up, hoisting your leg onto the counter. Prodding his cock head at your now unbelievably soaked entrance.

Your mind is hazy and disorientated concerning what's about to happen. You feel like you've barely had any time to process the fact that your father in law is treating you like a common street whore. So, when he pushes into you, a wailing shriek escapes you.

Dave slaps his heavy hand around your mouth from behind, pushing in balls deep but not before releasing a moan of his own.

"Better shut that mouth before I stuff something in there... good god. How is that cunt so damn tight? You're snug around me, guess you're not a slut after all. Tight pussy but loose throat, just how I like it."

Dave proceeds with his relentless thrusts into your aching cunt. You don't remember the last time you were filled so thoroughly. It makes you forget how fucked up this situation truthfully is.

As Dave's cock is slamming into your cervix over and over, you feel your lower stomach tightening. He feels it too. Dave has been holding in his orgasm since you first fell to your knees and gave him those fuck toy eyes. So before you can cum all over him, he grabs you by the neck from the front and puts your ear right by his mouth so he can relay his special message.

"My son told me you've been begging him for a baby... how sweet. You just wanna be a mama, huh? Or maybe, you think having one will fix your relationship. Just reminds me how stupid you are. If a kid could save a marriage, my wife and I would've been happy ever since she pushed that little shit out. But, I'm gonna make it even better for you, sweetheart...."

Dave pushes to the hilt as you cum around him, whimpering behind his hand. Eager to hear his words, simultaneously terrified.

"Gonna cum inside and get you pregnant myself."

You scream into his hand, trying to push him away from you, trying to get yourself away from his spearing cock. All your effort does is push him in deeper, your body going lax at how stuffed you are.

"Don't fight me, angel. Just take it..." You feel his warm cum spilling into you, your body quivering. "Good... so good. I already feel your body sucking up my cum.. eager for it. Eager to be round with your father in law's baby. What will it call me? Grand-dad?" He snickers into your ear as he releases your body. You just lay there, half your limp limbs hanging off the counter.

Dave watches his thick white liquid drip out of you, and down your inner thighs. He pats your ass and tucks himself back into his slacks.

"Don't worry too much. Daniel looks just like me, he'll never find out his kid is actually his half-sibling. That is unless you tell him. You want him to find out you were on your knees being a slut for his, daddy?" Dave questions you. You don't speak a word. Just staring at the piped detailing on the cupboard that holds all the scented detergents.

"Just go, please. So I can clean myself up." Those few begging words take the reminanets of your little energy.

Dave grabs your now wrinkly nightgown and robe, pulling you off the counter so you're forced to stand in front of him. Body spent, his finger prints have left slight indents on various parts of you that you're positive will bruise in the days to come. You realize now, there's no way your husband can see you uncovered for weeks.

"You're gonna put this slutty outfit on and walk your ass into his room, with my cum dripping down your legs. He's been waiting for you, sweetheart."

Your jaw drops at his demand. Disgusted yet your cunt clenches at the filth of it all.

"I thought you said he left?"

Dave just smiles at you like you're a mindless child. You almost fall to the floor in despair at the discovery of what a lying sick bastard Dave has revealed himself to be. You don't know what to do. You've caught yourself up in this twisted game and as of now, there's no way out.

So, you throw the soft lace over your head and run your fingers through your hair attempting to fix your appearance. As you unlock the door, Dave places a gentle hand on your waist and kisses the top of your head. You hear him inhale your scent before he pushes you out of the door and watches you meander to his son's room, a slight limp in your legs.

You look at him, distain on your face as you open the door to find your husband scrolling on his phone. With an arrogant look spread across his face — "Where have you been?"

Dave hears the click of the door lock setting in place. As he walks towards the stairwell, he can't help but laugh at the memory of his vasectomy he received many years ago.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[satorusluver]

Dilf!Toji x college student!reader

Word count: 800 ish

Tags: smut (MDNI), slight fluff, fem reader, age difference, p in v, mating press, doggy style, mild degradation

A/N: I can't get dilf college au Toji out of my mind so....

Although it had been a couple of years since his wife died, Toji hadn't had the time to date. He was too busy balancing his work and single fatherhood, especially now that he was going back to school. Instead, he settled for the occasional dating app hookup to get his needs met. Until he met you.

You had to be what, ten, twelve years his junior? But you were a pretty little thing, and no matter how much you tried to hide it, you practically drooled over your older dilf classmate. Toji didn't miss the way you eyed him every time he walked into class, or how easily you would get flustered with just a bit of flirting on his part. Toji didn't have time to date, no, but that didn't mean the two of you couldn't come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.

After all, Megumi often needed a babysitter on nights Toji worked overtime. Toji was quite up front with you about it -you watch his son for a couple of hours until he got home from work, and in return Toji would reward you with a crisp twenty and by folding you in half like a lawn chair on his bed and pounding your cervix with the fat, precum-dripping head of his eight inch dick until you soaked his sheets with your cum.

"Oh, fuck, To-oji!" you cry, your orgasm rocking through you as your messy cunt squirted all over Toji's wide girth. He loved seeing you like this, your knees against your chest and your eyes rolled back in bliss as he fucked you completely dumb on his cock. And Toji, well, he had quite the mouth on him in the heat of the moment, something which he'd warned you about ahead of time.

"Atta girl, don't gotta fuckin' think, do you? Just gotta cum for me. Ohh fuck, that little pussy's squeezin' me so tight," he huffs, leaning his massive, muscled form over you to achieve an even deeper angle as he fucks into you harshly. The overstimulation of him hitting that spongy spot inside you so hard makes your toes curl and your body arch into him, unable to get enough even if it's too much.

"What're you even in college for, princess? We both know your real job is taking my dick. You should just quit and become Megumi's stepmother so I can fuck you this good every night. Wouldn't you like that, princess? Hungry little cockslut that you are, practically beggin' for my dick the moment I walked in the door." But instead of answering him, you slap a hand over your mouth to keep your sobs of pleasure from being heard by Megumi, who was currently watching cartoons just down the hall.

You both knew it was his dick talking, that he didn't really mean it, but when he was balls deep in your sweet, tight heat and your needy little cunt was sucking him back in with every thrust, he'd utter things he'd never otherwise dare.

"Fuuuck yeah, wouldn't mind coming home to this everyday, having this pretty little pussy waiting for me." As he speaks, he reaches his hands down to gently spread your pussy lips with his thumbs, getting a good look at your puffy pink folds and swollen clit that glisten with your mixed juices.

You'd never admit it to him, he was cocky enough already, but you think his dick might've spoiled you for all other men. He was by far bigger than any of your exes, and far more experienced thanks to his age. The ease with which he managed to find your g-spot never ceased to amaze you, and not one time have you had sex with him without him getting you off at least twice.

As the semester dragged on, you kept coming back for more. One night after a shitty first date you show up to his house all dolled up and holding back tears after your date went to the bathroom and never came back, and it's mere minutes before he's ruining your so carefully done makeup by shoving your face into his pillowcase and fucking the melancholy from your failed date right out of you.

"He was a fuckin' dumbass, that guy," Toji says as the two of lie next to each other in the afterglow. "Leavin' a girl like you alone like that. If I took you out, I'd show you a good time...well, I just did show you a good time," he adds with a chuckle.

"But you know what I mean. If...if you were up for that..." he mumbles, nervously scratching the back of his dark, now disheveled hair.

"I thought you didn't have time to date?" you ask him, although your tone is light and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, well, for you...maybe I do."

[jenchan-writingmultis]

What do the dorm leaders + a few more students do when you leave them without saying goodbye / you go missing? (Series: Part 2)

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Genre: Fluff/ Angst

Pairing: Leona x Gn Reader

A/n: Ooh It took me a while to create an update of this, I’m still in my second semester hell but I got a bit of time! So, I decided to write something for our dearest Lion, also I wanted to note that I’ll be doing this based on the book chapters, for example, Riddle First, Leona Second, Azul Third, and so on… I hope you like this part! I loved writing every part of it.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards.

Warning: Cussing, OOC Crowley (lmao), smitten Leona, slight blood mention Masterlist Part one (Riddle x Gn Reader)

──────⊱⁜⊰────── Sypnosis: You went off already, actually, they didn’t even know where you were right now, Grimm was worried about you, where have you gone? You just vanished into the mirror that you were talking to every midnight, he knew that he should have listened to his gut feeling when he realized that you were warning him about your sudden disappearance. The moment he went dashing out of Ramshackle, paws cold from the snow that he stepped on and it was really bad that when he needed Hornton he wasn’t there.  Savanaclaw:

Leona: He was annoyed when Grim started screaming outside of his dorm in the middle of the night causing all beastmen to wake up due to his ruckus, but his annoyance vanished when he realized what the furball was saying. You were gone, while he looked indifferent outside, telling Grim to calm the fuck down because he can easily hear him without him screaming in his ears, he was a bit worried. (Just a bit)

“Oi, can you tone down your screaming?” he grabbed Grim by the collar as the kitty sobbed, “Calm down, we’ll help” He sighed, causing Ruggie to stare at him surprised, “What do you mean we?” Leona scoffed before he threw Grim at him. 

“This furball will just keep on screaming if we leave him” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Ruggie huffed “Well, it’s surprising for you to immediately agree to help though” he whispered to himself, Leona could clearly hear him, but he ignored what the other said. It was rare for you to leave Grim all alone, you two were practically attached to the hip, so you vanishing out of nowhere was odd, did you finally get back to your homeland? You didn’t talk about it, but he can see how you look at others when they’re with their families and he knows that look. It was a look he had when he was younger, when Farena was the golden child, and he was the black sheep. 

He wanted that kind of familial love from his parents before, but they never gave it to him. You probably missed your family in your original world, he understands the feeling, but he can’t help but feel a bitter ache in his heart. Did he and the others not make you feel at home here? Sure, they overblotted and probably could have killed an herbivore like you, but he’s a changed man, surely you didn’t leave because you got sick of him or the others, right?

Of course, he went to interrogate Grim, asking him various questions, and after a few hours of barking orders to his fellow beastmen, he went to Crowley personally to ask, he was running out of options, and he was starting to feel that his theory that you went home was right. The last time Grim saw you was you got sucked in the mirror that was inside your bedroom. He tried to check on that mirror too, he didn’t feel any type of magic in it, it was just an ordinary mirror. You’d know he’s already at the edge of his seat trying to find you when he asked Crowley out of all people for help, denying the feeling in his gut that you were truly wiped out of this world.

“You’re saying that the prefect vanished?” Crowley put his hand on his chin, he was a bit annoyed about how calm Crowley was, and he crossed his arms glaring at the guy. “Did you send them home?” He questioned, getting straight to the point, which made Crowley shake his head “No, I didn’t, I have yet to find the portal back to their homeland, but this is certainly worrisome, I’ll try to help you find them, and can you summon the other head wardens for a meeting?” Crowley walked past him, Leona’s eyes following him. “I’ll be getting the teachers involved, this is a missing student case after all” He murmured, now that’s the sight he likes to see, somehow his opinion of Crowley increased. He guessed Mc became important to him as well. 

However, despite the ton of effort to find you, none of them got any leads, the ache he was feeling from before got worse, he found himself awake than asleep most of the time, his head was aching, it was affecting his health too. When the housewarden meeting along with the teachers happened, of course, the majority of them volunteered to have their housemates search for you outside and inside, Crowley couldn’t get any officers involved since you weren’t officially in Twisted Wonderland, you were a walking unregistered herbivore; it was dangerous, it could get the school closed so he had to ask his staffs and students to help around, which no one complained. Everyone cared for you, you helped them one way or another; helped them grow as a person and as a mage, it made him fascinated that you get to change almost everyone in this school in just a few months of your presence, and you’re magicless even. 

The improvement of the school happened because of you, and you just vanished out of thin air just like that, like some God who graced everyone with their presence only to leave once everything was sorted out. What about him? 

Leona couldn’t help but feel numb, eyebags evident on his face, it was so unlike him to be overworking trying to find you, you were just a herbivore to him, someone who had the audacity to annoy him before just to gain his help. Ruggie was worried about him too, the guy tried to ease him into that he would try to use his “connections” to gain more manpower to search the whole twisted wonderland, it made him laugh, he was a second prince, he had more connections that can help with the search than Ruggie, plus he knew that you weren’t here anymore. He couldn’t accept it at first, it was just slapped on his face multiple times.

Your scent continued to fade as the days continued, he didn’t have any motivation to do anything else but try to find you, find you, and find you for the first few weeks health be damned, but when you manifested in his mind, festering him to do something else, to try to finish third year, then maybe during internship he can find leads to you. He decided that if he plans to continue to persevere, then he will. After all, he was known for his tenacity before. 

Ruggie was surprised when one day, Leona started to become focus on his studies, Leona was sometimes going to class, just enough to the point he could be promoted to 4th year, where he could do internships.  He thought that Leona might have forgotten about you, which kind of annoyed him, was Leona only good at doing stuff in the first place and abandoning it once he realized it was futile? Of course not! Ruggie slapped his cheeks and shook his head, Leona could never, he’s mischaracterizing his Housewarden. 

While the search died down, plenty of students gave up because they kept reaching dead end after dead end in their search. Grim was often with Ace and Deuce, he noticed that the furball lost a lot of weight and he often seemed out of it. Most of the students who knew Grim understood the devastation of losing someone whom he treated as family. They try to get Grim to eat more, but he always ends up either overeating or not eating at all, the only housewardens who get him to eat normally are Vil and Riddle who have strict diets for him. Riddle is more lenient due to knowing Grim longer than Vil. 

The housewardens get split custody of the Cat, and the main custody being with Riddle, Ace, and Deuce. Leona barely gets any time with Grim, and when he does, he usually just gives him to Ruggie. One time, Grim got really upset at him though.

Leona flinched in pain, blood seeping out of his arm, a scratch mark forming on it. Jack jolted and grabbed Grim’s arms, subduing him immediately. “Grim! What are you doing!?” Jack yelled out, gripping on the squirming cat. 

 “You! Out of everyone here, you’re the one who’s always so calm and relaxed!” Grim cried out, glaring at the Lion. Leona glared at him as he used his magic to heal his arm. “Do you even care! You just gave up after a few months!” He continued, biting Jack making Jack let go out of pain, and when Grim jumped on Leona. He got grabbed by the scuffle. 

 “What makes you think I stopped trying to find them?!” Leona snapped, gripping on the cat, as if he’s a cub misbehaving, this was annoying, people thinking that he doesn’t do a lot when in fact he’s been giving more than just effort  “You think I’m not trying my best here!?” He lets Grim go who is surprised at his outburst. “Shit” He pinched the bridge of his nose, Jack carrying Grim again. “I’m really sorry Leona” He apologized on Grim’s behalf, but Leona just waved him off. “It’s fine,” he said, looking down at the cat. “But I want you to understand that some people just prefer doing work behind the scenes, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean they’re not trying.” 

He really was trying. The you that was cuddling him in his dreams, playing with his hair and kissing him, telling him to do his best. That had kept him sane while trying to find you. It was stupid and pathetic, but at least he knew that somehow, he never forgot your face, your scent, and your voice even if it took years. Even once he graduated, even if Falena tried to set him up with other Beastwomen or some high-ranking princess. He rejected them all, in favor of waiting for you, despite not knowing if you’ll ever come back. 

He never even got to tell you his feelings before you vanished, if he did would that make you not go back to your own world? Even after a few years, your friends had already graduated, he was working in Sunset Savanna, temporarily because his brother asked him for help, he was busy jumping from place to place to maintain connections and build new ones so while his brother is gone, he was the one in charge, Cheka was already in Junior High school dreaming of getting inside Royal Sword Academy where his friends would be around as well as his father encouraging him to enroll there due to being an alumni, and his sister in law kept festering Leona about mates and stuff. 

Right, did he tell you that he kept the mirror that you vanished from to his room? When he finally graduated, he felt that he needed the mirror, so he decided to buy it from Crowley, who graciously gave him the mirror without any complaints. Sometimes, he looks at himself in the mirror, hoping to see you behind it. He really wishes you would come back. 

He went to sit down on the edge of his bed, sliding himself into the covers, his bed feeling cold and needing another, he stared at the ceiling, wishing in his mind that when he woke up, you’d be there, touching his cheek. 

Drifting into sleep, he dreamt of you again, a dream that he saw multiple times after you vanished, his head laying on the soft plush of your thighs, he stared up at you, who was looking down at him with a soft smile, he nuzzled the hand that you placed on his cheek, placing his hand on it as he guides your hand to his lips, kissing it. 

 “I miss you” he murmured in his dream, your hand felt incredibly warm and soft right now, it felt… real. Maybe whatever Deity from above decided to pity him today and give him your touch that he was constantly seeking.

He didn’t want to wake up, the warmth of the sun hitting his body except for his face which you were shielding it from. The moment he lifted himself up, to go nearer your face, he wanted to kiss you now or else he might never feel this surreal experience ever again, a blinding light suddenly flashed in his vision, causing him to flinch. 

 “Oh, sorry Leona” a familiar voice apologized, making him groan and blink a few times, was he still dreaming? He felt his head resting on something else and not his pillow, it felt softer. When he finally was fully awake, he realized that he was in fact, not dreaming anymore. He looked up only to see you, in the same position as you did in his dream. 

“Herbivore…” he froze as you rubbed his cheek gently. “Yes, I’m here” You hummed as you pushed away a bit of his hair just to see his face better. “Oh wow, Leona you became prettier!” you giggled, causing him to sit up, grabbing your cheeks, he examined you. He can’t believe it, it really is you, he’s not dreaming anymore. 

“How? What?” he questioned, glaring at you maybe this was a trap, if this was some doppelganger or some shapeshifter, he’d turn you to dust, but the way you weren’t scared of his glare made his will falter, you were warm, you were there, your scent was there too, nobody can replicate that.  “Herbivore you’re back” he finally caved in, pulling you into a crushing hug, which you gave back happily. “I’m back Leona, I’m sorry I vanished,” you said, burying your face into his shoulder. “You idiot, I definitely deserve an explanation for this” He growled out, not letting you go at all. 

Word Count: 2,359

[mischieveousmayhem]

hiiii!!🩷 how are you?

I saw that you would like some requests in the #batmom so I have a fic idea

The idea is about each one of the batboys says to Batmom "your not my real mother" like angst/fluff and how would the bat mom react to it and handle it

Not my mother.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Batmom

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: None (?), idk english that well 💀

Synopsis: He loves you , or maybe not?

—

"Jason, this is crazy. How do you have all F's 3 weeks into the semester?"

A disappointed Batmom stood in front of 13(?) year old Jason Todd. She had a frown drawn on her face. Jason looked down, sad that he is disappointing you and angry at himself.

"Do you not do your homework when I tell you to?" She asks a little more assertive while reading all the negative comments the teachers had left.

"I don't know." He responded quietly.

"How do you NOT know?" She was getting heated and it was clear in her tone. "All I want for you is to do your best and you don't even listen to me."

"I do listen to you." He speaks louder, aggressiveness in his tone.

"Jason Peter Todd, do not get an attitude with me because you have consequences to your actions. Now what is going on with you sleeping in class and not paying attention?" Your hands were now on your hips.

"Why do you even care?" You using his middle name made him mad.

"I am trying my best to make sure my son is set up to do good in life." Your hands now on your hips, "Until these grades are fixed, you are to not go on patrol because that is probably the root of these issues."

Jason was at this point angry. You were scolding him like a little kid, on top of that what's Batman without his Robin.

You we're about to walk away but then,

"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOTHER, YOU PHONY, I CAN DO WHAT I WANT."

You stopped dead in your tracks. How do you respond to that? You just want what's best for your sweetest Jason.

You turned back to face him, his face was red probably from anger. You were pale, trying to process what your son had said.

"You know what..." You trailed off, "I'll just let your father handle this." You sat down the paper before walking off leaving Jason alone.

Which after he picks up the paper and looks at it.

Oh dear. What has he done?

It's obvious you were actually just caring for him. He was processing everything himself. He just got so angry, angry because he was sad that you were disappointed.

—

In your bedroom shared with your loving husband, you cried endlessly.

Have you failed as a mother? You just want your son to do his best. You didn't understand why he would say that. Maybe you just came off in the wrong way and it triggered him to go off on you.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts Bruce walked in.

"I was looking—" He stopped when he saw you crying and rushed to your side.

Dearest Bruce Wayne only had a soft spot for his wife and kids.

His arm wrapped around you tightly as your cried into his shoulder.

"What happened?" He asks.

"Well Jason brought home bad g—" You stopped for a minute to gasp in between sobs, "Home bad grades and then I was scolding him but I didn't mean to come off wrong and I told him not patrol and then he said.."

"He said what?"

"He said I'm not his real mom!" You exclaimed then cried harder. "I know it's true but I love him so much and it still hurts."

"Y/N, darling." He grabs your chin with his fingers so you're looking his eyes. "You know he probably didn't mean it. He is probably still adjusting to us too. It still won't slide though, I'll talk to him, ok?"

You nod as he pecks your cheek.

—

You were knocked out cold. You probably fell asleep while crying. But your awaken when you feel a smaller body climb in the bed next to you in the bed.

You wanted to smile but you were still half asleep and upset. You roll over to face the figure.

"Hey Y/N." The voice spoke.

"Hi Jay." You responded softly, the tone of sadness in your voice even though you tried to cover it up. However, Jason Todd knew that his mother was upset and he frowned.

You two faced each other while laying there in silence. This lasted for about two minutes before he broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I said what I did."

"I know. It's ok."

"Then why are you do sad?" He questioned.

"Words hurt sometimes Jay and I know you didn't mean it but it still felt like a dagger to my heart."

He frowned even more. He hurt you. The woman who is his mother figure and cares so much for him.

"But I will always forgive you my little one. I'm sorry for being a bad mother." You apologized.

"You're not a bad mother, you're a perfect mother. I'm just a kid who didn't understand you were doing your job until after." He said.

"Jay, I just want you to do good, and always follow your dreams."

"I will mom, I promise." When he said mom you smiled.

He scooted closer to you and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.

This was a mothers love, that is what made you his mom.

"I love you mom."

"I love you most, Jason."

[s-4pphics]

click! finale (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a rep and black, parental trauma, self-worth issues, slight disordered eating, brief alcoholism and hypersexuality, heavy grief, pining but depressed

A/N: finally on break yaassss….. sequel? LOL 

The air around you is strangling. You haven’t left your room in two days. You’re not passing this semester. 

The room next to yours, however, is filled with life. Ellie’s back to blasting her music and banging on walls, but you have yet to cross paths. Not in class, not at home; You haven’t seen her. Pickle never hesitates to scratch at your door for hugs. And kisses. She’s brought you so much comfort, even in times where you feel like you’re undeserving. 

Christmas is around the corner, and you’re alone. Amaya never shied away from taking you home for her breaks, but she’s gone. She hasn’t called in a while; You hope she’s doing okay. 

So, you seek escape in a different way and do what you haven’t in a long time. 

Tears flood your vision, your thumb hovering over a number you haven’t touched in ages. Your hands won’t stop trembling. You’re going to regret this. Your heart's already breaking into pieces at the heart and cloud emojis of the contact. 

Soft paws knead your thighs and you kiss kit-kat’s tiny head as she nuzzles your chin. You’re trying to keep your sobs to a minimum, but they’re tearing your throat to shreds.

Your thumb comes down on the contact and the line rings. And rings… and rings until the dial tone sounds. 

“At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press one for more options.”

You knew no one would answer. No one ever answers, but still, you listen for her voice. The steadiness of her breathing. You take a shaky breath, “Hi, mom.” Mindless sentences pour out of you like a waterfall. You just sit there and allow Pickle to playfully bite your finger. 

“I, uh… I’m not…” Another sob, “I’m not doing well.” 

You would never say that if she were here. You always masked your true feelings for her sake; She never needed any additional stress. 

Void images of your father reoccur in your memory, “I think there’s something wrong with me… I don’t think I’m a g-good person.” A barbed tongue affectionately licks at your finger, and you try to smile. 

“I… We found a kitty in the snow,” You whisper, “She's the cutest thing ever.” Pickle looks up like she knows what you’re saying, and you weep at her delicate eyes. 

“It was the weirdest thing…” You huff wetly, “It felt like you put her there to stop me from making a mistake.” More tears flood your shut eyes. 

“I just miss you…” Your palm digs into your eye, “and I wish you w-were here. I’m not…” Pickle climbs to rest in your lap; You always did that with your mom for comfort. Another loud sob. 

“I lov— “

You jolt at the loud dial tone, and the line ends. You drop your phone on your blanket and search around your room, the portrait of your mother standing tall on your desk. You need to make another one for her birthday. 

Your eyes travel over your space, and for the first time, you don’t feel comfort. Your mind is racing with thoughts that expose your truth; They’re vile and dirty and they make you feel like scum. A disease walking. 

The dark nights are restless and the days are silent, halls only filled with soft purrs and pattering paws. 

Your home no longer holds the joy that it once did when Amaya was here. Excitement used to burst through you whenever she prepped your movie nights after work, the living room filled with laughter and corny love lines that made your stomach secretly twist with warmth. 

You’re not happy anymore. Anxiety brews in you whenever you walk into the kitchen, the living room, go to feed and snuggle Pickle. It’s fucking miserable in here, and as difficult as it was for you to admit, it’s all your fault. 

It’s almost finals week, and you’re nowhere near prepared. You can’t focus on anything except the treacherous silence of your space. It’s almost like Ellie’s already gone. 

You should be anticipating her departure, antsy to have your space to yourself again, but your chest aches. This past month was anything but smooth, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. For some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to live your main character moment, even if it was just for a few hours.  

Ellie, as much as you hate to admit it, deserves better. Just like how you deserve to spend your life alone, trapped and secluded with your own thoughts. She should want better for herself; Nothing is worse than being in your presence; Maybe that’s why you have no one. 

You desperately want to do better for yourself, but you’re tired. Your mother would be so disappointed in you. You retire from wallowing and climb under the covers, Pickle clutched tightly to your chest. You hope she doesn’t mind the tears from your tee.  

The portfolio is finished. Ellie can’t stop staring at the booklet enclosed in leather on her desk. 

The online submission process was infuriating, mainly due to her laptop dying during the portfolio render, but it’s done. Her ticket into a life-changing position is no longer hers to judge; It can only go up from here. 

All she needs is that phone call from the recruiting manager and it’s over. She’ll be in the city in no time. She’s excited and jittery; Every buzz from her phone is met with clenched hands and a sweaty forehead. Her disappointment heals when she sees her father’s classic thumbs up emojis surrounded by black and red hearts; Even from miles away, he knows when she needs support. 

Ellie lays her forehead on the leather, sighing in relief for what seems like the billionth time. It’s a surreal feeling, relishing in accomplishments. She's never done it, mainly because her mother never wanted to acknowledge happenings she wasn’t the center of. Hearing congratulations is still a mindfuck years later. 

… Your photos looked stunning. You’re made for this, even if you don’t believe it. 

Ellie will never admit how much energy she put into editing those pictures, specifically the ones you’re in. She spent hours recoloring, scaling, sharpening those photos, and they turned out incredible. Probably some

of the best shots she’s ever taken, and you’re in the center. And your eyes… There’s so much light in those hazel specks. 

Another mindfuck. 

Whenever Ellie comes home, she checks the small space between the floor and door of your bedroom to see if you’re awake. If you’re alive. The relief she feels when she sees a lamp light or shadow eases the tension in her shoulders. 

She never knocks, though. Never. 

So why are you? 

Ellie’s back instantly straightens at the soft pats on her door, heart pounding in her ears. You never knock. 

She’s embarrassed at how fast she stands, chair nearly falling over as she flies to pull her door open. 

She’s met with you; She hopes you can’t hear the shatters from her chest at the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your hair is matted and the brunette river in your eyes are surrounded by redness

“Sorry, I—“ Your voice cracks like you haven’t spoken in ages, “She was lying there and I felt bad. She missed you, I think.” She’s never heard you sound so tedious. You’re always the loudest, goofiest person in the room. Ellie’s brows furrow before following your line of vision. Pickle’s sleep in front of her door, curled like a cinnamon roll. Ellie sighs as picks her up as fluidly

as she can, trying her best not to wake her. 

“You’re gonna have to take her when you leave.” 

Devastation sets in your tone as you stare at the little fur ball, “Why?” She asks. 

“My dad’s allergic.” You whisper.

Ellie peers down when Pickle stirs, “Is… is he visiting?” She asks, just as quietly. 

Your head shakes, “I’m going home.” 

Ellie does an impeccable job of hiding her shock. So many questions race in her mind: going home? Where’s home for you? Is it permanent? Are you moving out? When? Are you and your dad close? 

You’re turning away back into your room, but Ellie blurts out before you can shut the door. “I finished my portfolio! It’s… it’s done. I turned it in.” 

You turn, and your eyes are watery. Your smile is tiny, but genuine. “Congratulations,” you’re so quiet and your voice shakes. Ellie’s mind whirls, “They’re gonna love it.” You take one last look at Pickle, and your bottom lip wobbles. You shut and lock the door before Ellie can say thank you for helping me. 

Ellie’s eyes lock onto the floor, watching your lamp turn off, ears honing in on the shuffling of blankets. She swiftly scurries inside her space when she hears crying. 

Her chest concaves at the sobs echoing through the dark, silent halls. Through the thin wall as she sets the kitty on her favorite pillow to sleep on. She paces around her room and yanks at her pinky. How she wishes to be a fly on the wall; She wants to knock on your door so badly, but she doesn’t know what to say. How to comfort. She's always relied on her father for that. 

So, she just listens with regret and makes her final decision.

If you move from this counter, you’ll faceplant into hardwood. You don’t like the blaringly loud song coming from above, so you down another seltzer. It’s distracting enough. 

You feel yourself leaning forward, so you force yourself back up, practically flung over the counter. You’re never drinking again, you promise yourself. How many times has that one been broken? You don’t remember. You miss Ellie. 

You’re going to fall again, but this time, you’re supported. And not by the counter. You instantly relax at the familiar scent. 

Abby’s mumbling something about something, but it sounds like gibberish. You throw your arms around her neck, inhaling deeply; You miss Ellie terribly. 

We gotta get you outta here. You frown; You don’t want to leave! The party just started! 

Her strong arms wrap around your waist to maneuver you. You’re not sure where she's taking you, but you don’t fight. You simply allow her to snatch your heels off and carry you into the piercing-sharp cold. Just allow her to drag you to safety. You wish it was Ellie. 

The world around you moves in a blur; The pace is making you dizzy. You don’t want to vomit in Abby’s car. When did she get a car? 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah, hun? You good?” She sounds so far away. Your mumbles are incoherent. She's so confused, so she asks you to repeat it. 

You face her from the passenger seat with a sultry grin. You miss Ellie, “I missed you.” Your words are garbled and your hands are as loose as your tongue, shakily landing on her muscular thigh, massaging the skin. 

Abby tenses with a sigh, planting a gentle hand on your traveling one. Her grip tightens when you try to move. “Did you really?” 

That's your green light. Your smile grows as you clumsily unbuckle your seatbelt, “Stop… stop the car.” 

Abby’s foot plants on the break, and you jerk forward. Like the night you found Pickle. Like when Ellie… 

“What’s the matter?” 

I miss my roommate. “I’m horny.” 

Your friend scoffs and shakes her head. Either you’re too drunk or she’s disappointed… Not the reaction you were seeking. Your smile tries to fade, but you force the corners of your mouth back up. 

“No, you’re not.” She snaps, and it takes you a second to catch it. Abby’s upset again. What the fuck did you do this time? Your facade finally falters. Now you’re irritated. 

“How’re y… how’re you gonna tell me what the fuck I am?” You sound like a fucking idiot, but your rage ignites your slurs, “If you don’t want me, why’re you here!” 

“Because you fucking called and I’m your friend! I didn’t wanna leave you by yours— “

“You should’ve!” Your shriek is piercing; You’re shocked the windows didn’t shatter and slice you both. 

“That’s how you fucking feel? Really?” 

You try to swallow tears, but they flow. The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue; Thank you for coming to get me. I’m sorry for being awful. Don’t leave me by myself. 

But none of them escaped. They sit and rot in your throat. You’ve never seen Abby so… 

And she doesn’t let up, “Now you wanna cry? Are you serious?” There’s fire in her eyes; It burns in a way you’re not used to, especially not her, “This victim shit is getting very old— “

“I don’t care!” 

“I don’t fucking care, either! If you wanna keep getting used like a piece of meat by random bitches, then do that! Leave me the fuck out of it!” Abby slams her hand down on the armrest, and the car doors unlock, “Matter of fact, get the fuck out!” 

“Fuck you!” 

“Fuck YOU! Get out! Get the fuck out!” 

Curses and heated exclamations leave the two of you until you wobbly exit the vehicle, slamming the door as hard as your brain would allow. The wind blows like tacks, stabbing through the skin of your bare arms and chest. Abby zooms off, and you scream. 

You dig in your pocket for your phone, ineptly dialing Ellie’s number. It’s fucking one in the morning

“… Hello?” She was asleep. Your heart eases at the steadiness of her tone. 

You’re shivering, “… E—Ellie?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m… I’m really cold and I don’t,” sob, “I dunno where I am— “

“What do you mean?” She asks abruptly, alert. Your heart flutters. 

You whimper, “I’m lost, I don’t… I’m a bad person— “

“Send me your location. Where’re your keys?” 

“I— I don’t remember— “

“Are you drunk right now?” 

“Yes,” You mumble meekly. This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Ellie sighs heavily, “Just… Is there somewhere you can wait until I get there?” 

You search through tears, finding mostly dark retail stores and restaurants across the street… Except Jack in the Box! The munchies hotspot never fails you. 

“There’s a Jack in the Crack over there.” You point like she can see you. She snickers softly. 

“Go, then. I’ll be there soon, okay?” 

“Wait! Don’t… don’t hang up, please, I’m scared— “

“I wasn’t going to.” 

You closely listen to the shuffling on the other line as you wobbly trek across the street. You sharply inhale at every slip and stumble on your journey, almost sobbing through every confirmation to Ellie’s small are you okay? 

You finally make it inside and thank God that it’s warm. You take a seat and sigh at the familiar jingle of keys. 

“You in there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m coming, send me where you are.” 

“K.” 

It takes you longer than it should’ve to get her the location thanks to the Casa in your system, but she’s on the way… You really want curly fries. Fuck. 

You hate how your thoughts wander, self-loathing at the forefront of your lobe. You take after your father more than you thought: a filthy, lying train wreck. You’ve ruined every glimmer of hope, of positive influence around you, and you’re forced to bathe in the treachery you’ve created all over again. 

“Hey.” 

You leap out of your seat at Ellie’s raspy tone, seeing your hoodie draped over her forearm and keys dangling in her hand. Your tummy growls when you wave. Ellie’s gaze softens. “Hungry?” She hands you the hoodie for you to throw on. You nod. 

“What do you wanna eat?” 

“… Fries,” you croak, “Curly, please.” 

Ellie nods and waddles to the service counter. You watch her backside under her puffer as she pays and collects a small baggie and water before nodding towards the car. You follow close behind her in silence, munching on your snack. 

The ride back home is silent, but for once, the air isn’t deadly. You’re eased back from your breakdown, and it’s definitely not due to the forest in your roommate’s vision. 

You enter your warm apartment and get greeted with soft purrs, Kit-Kat skipping over to rub against your leg. It’s almost enough to make you break down all over again; You can’t believe you have to say goodbye to her next week. 

You kick your sneakers off and squat down to her level, “I love you so much, baby girl. Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper and pet her head, all the way down to her tail. She meows like she loves you. Ellie shuts the door and watches you silently. You turn to face her. For the first time, she doesn't fidget at your inspection.

Her eyes are much glossier and she’s picking at the skin on her pinky. She wants to say something. 

“You okay?” You murmur, and Ellie nods. You don’t believe her. Her eyes are downcast. Why does she look so nervous? 

The silence is killing you, so you speak. 

“Ellie, I’m… I’m sorry for everything,” You stand and ramble. “I’m the worst roommate imaginable and I-I’m terrible and impulsive and I fucking suck, but I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” 

I also kinda like you. 

Not even your word vomit lets that slip. So, you apologize, sloppily and snot-filled. Tears drip down your face in waterfalls, “I’m— I don't wanna go... and I don’t want you to go…”

Ellie’s timid facade breaks, only slightly, eyes closing gently as she listens. “I know I don’t deserve t-to ask that and it’s not… I wasn’t apart of your plan— “

“You’re drunk.” 

You’re plummeting into the void all over again, succumbing to a familiar, oddly comforting darkness. 

“H-Huh?” 

Ellie’s as firm as a tree, unmoving. Strong. Still. You’re transported back to your first conversation and how intimidated she made you feel. “You’re drunk… and I leave in the morning. I got the job.” 

Drowning. That’s what this feels like. Strangely proud. Oddly suffocating. You’re underwater, but refuse to resurface. “I-In the morning?” 

Her head jerks. “I, uh. I got rent covered. Sorry for the late notice.” She shoves her hands in her pocket. You shake your head, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “Where’re you gonna go?” 

“My dad’s. He’s a few hours out. The truck comes tomorrow.” 

Your head bobs in acknowledgement, “H-How was the stats final?” She pauses; Her eyes sadden, tilting like an unwatered rose. “You’ll do fine.” She whispers. 

“Promise to take care of my daughter?” You blurt between sniffles, already moving down the hall, ignoring the loud shattering in your heart when you peep all her boxes in the now vacant room beside yours. 

Ellie mumbles your name but you’re sick of ugly crying in front of people. “Good luck with everything.” You mutter with hot feet.

And with the last click of your bedroom lock, you shut out the vine who entangled your heart for the last time. You give into the feelings of loss, the emotions that come with failure, and release them into your hands. 

What could’ve been, your brain hollers while your heart wails. What could’ve been if you weren’t you. 

You don’t remember waking up, but you’re in pain. Physically, mentally; You're hurting. The intensity of it somehow gets worse at the sound of Ellie dragging boxes out of her — the room. 

You just cry. There’s nothing to do but cry. Your phone has been ringing all morning, but you don’t have strength to reach for it. You relish in the deserving pain of your hangover. Tequila hasn’t done shit for you. 

Hours pass, and your home is silent. Ellie’s gone. Pickle’s gone. Amaya’s gone. Abby’s gone. Your mother’s gone. You take their departures as signs. It’s probably time for you to go, too. 

Your shower is incredibly long. You wash and wash and re-wash, wanting the feelings of cleanliness to cascade down your skin, but it never comes. You tearfully accept your lecherous nature and every vile entity attached to it. You’re a vessel for heartbreak and villainy. Forever your worst enemy. You look in the mirror for the first time in days. Just for a second. You can’t stand to see yourself for longer than that, your naked form a reminder of every violation you’ve had to endure since you were fifteen. 

Ellie isn't thinking twice about you, and yet, she terrorizes your mind, trying to convince yourself that your time together wasn’t all bad. You’ll never forget the color she brought to you. Her seed is forever planted and growing in your heart, her roots forcing their way into your system, intertwining with your rough, cracked bones, enclosing around your lungs with each breath. 

Too bad you impacted her in the worst way. You couldn’t even manage to give her a sober apology before she left. It’s hard to accept the fact that you’ll never see her again, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. 

Once again, you’re too late. 

The short lap around your living room crushes your spirit. Somehow, all of your memories are shrouded in emptiness. All the proof of Ellie’s residency is gone… Except the indent of her body on the couch. She always loved sleeping there.

One last heavy exhale. That’s all you can manage before you grab your coat and beanie and exit, locking the door behind you. You keep your head down on the way to the parking garage, hopping into the driver’s seat. The ride to the academic advisory office is silent and swift; It matches the finality of your meeting. 

Tears glaze your eyes when you ask your counselor, “What’s… What’s the first step of withdrawing? Like, from school.” 

-

-

-

CHRISTMAS EVE 

Your fork picks at the pasta noodles on your barely touched plate. The wine is delicious. 

“Honey, are you…” Your dad says softly before sighing, “How’s the meal?” You blink up at him, focusing on the crinkles in his eyes. He seems youthful somehow. Healing looks good on him. 

You gulp down more maroon, “… It’s great. Thank you.” You mutter. You’re not used to talking to him; You’re glad the feelings are mutual. He only nods, head downcast onto his plate. At least he’s eaten. 

He sets his fork down on his plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “I hope you like your gift.” He says before standing to place the dish in the sink.

A dark smile spreads behind your glass. 

“Never thought you’d buy me anything.” You snicker sarcastically. “Don’t start.” His voice slices through the kitchen. You hold back your flinch. You’re not ten anymore. 

You shrug, shoulders heavy, “Just saying.” A glass shatters in the sink, and he curses and storms off, the bedroom door nearly swinging off the hinges with a slam. Your smile grows at the booming echo. Like father, like daughter you suppose. 

-

-

-

DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH 

“Are you ready, kiddo?” 

Ellie’s heart is pounding through her chest as she stares out the window. She can’t believe her father hasn’t commented on the bursting organ. “No.” She whispers, adjusting the camera strapped around her neck. She's fighting not to bite her nails; Her dad hates that. 

He chuckles softly, “Yes, you are.” 

No, she’s not. 

The photography studio is fucking huge and surrounded by tall windows that display suited individuals laughing, conversing, perfecting their lenses. She can see the bright specks of neon color on the white floors, white walls, white couches. It’s so much brighter than she ever imagined.

The colors are reminiscent of you. Vivid. Captivating. Beaming like your smile. There are flashes coming from all directions inside the studio and it’s making her shake in the passenger seat. A strong hand plants on her blazer, giving an encouraging squeeze. “Look at me.” 

Ellie’s head turns, eyes locking with her dad’s. 

“I love you. You got this.” He says with confidence. Ellie nods in agreement, but he doesn’t accept it. “Say it.” 

“I got this.” Not as confident. A lot quieter, but getting there. 

“Eh?” Her dad leans in closer, ear pointed at her. She giggles and repeats herself. A little louder. He decides that it’s good enough, pulling her close over the center console. Ellie inhales as deeply as she can, right in the crook of his neck. He plants one last kiss on her cheek before releasing her. She grabs her bag from the floor and pushes the door open, looking over her shoulder one last time. “I love you.” She whispers. He bops her nose with the most delicate grin. Pride is radiating off him, and it warms her from the cold outside. 

Ellie departs with one last wave, shutting the door and skipping onto the sidewalk, walking right up to the front door of the studio. A final peek at her dad; He sends her two thumbs up. She smiles. 

Breathe in, one… two… three… 

When the door pushes open, she's greeted with wide grins and warm hugs. It feels like home already.

Finally... Finally.

BIG ASS TAGLIST LOOOOOL LOVE YALL: @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane@muthafuckingstargirl @mina-281 @yuckyfucky @aimformyheartt @elstoy @skylerwhitwyo @sawaagyapong @nil-eena @dewylittlestars @sakiigami @feelsoseencantdream @ellieslittlegf@fictionalgap @liabadoobee @whooknooows @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @qtgaslighter @p4ison1vy @eviestevie-14 @weaselot @elliewbbg @elsmissingfingers @lmaoo-spiderman @lyssaspengler @elliewilliamsmunch @gummydummykj @kiwikeysblog @juniorsfav @louleele @alittlextrahoney @tohoko@333-starhotline @girlkissersco @saplingkoi @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @diddiqueen @alexisvs-world @mostlyhornyandsad @lolaaa699999 @elsblunt @niyahlovesu @randomhoex @sunnmoon @elliesaesp @callmewhenyoukan @rubycruzsbitch @deathby1000sluts @skylerwhitwyo

[artdcnaldson]

Longing for more Art angst in the changeover AU like in Valentine’s Day. Could you possibly do a follow up? Or maybe another angsty, sad, want to rip my hair out and sob, standford!Art x reader?

Rating: T

Word Count: 910

Warnings: Angst, Language, situationship being a situationship

Summary: The week of formal, Art finally lets you know that he’s not going to make it.

A/N: I jumped to write this so fast. Nothing makes me happier than Art and angst in the same sentence :) hope u enjoy this! Set the week of Part 1 of Changeover :)

Art was noticeably quiet as you modeled your formal dress for him. There was something to his expression that made you nervous— his smile seemed a little too sweet, his eyes a little too cold.

It had taken weeks for you to find one you’d liked, but you’d fallen in love at first sight with the one you were wearing. A pretty, Stanford red, just like he liked.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so much that you liked it than you knew he’d like it. And it just made it even more noticeable that he was being quiet.

“What?” You asked softly, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” he said with a half-smile. He reached a hand out to grab yours and tugged you closer so you were slotted between his thighs. “You look really, really beautiful. You know that?”

His hand was warm on your lower back, which was exposed due to the revealing cut of the dress. His thumb rubbed soothing circles there.

It felt like there was another shoe, just out of sight, waiting to drop. Your pulse fluttered with anxiety as you looked at him.

“So you like it?” You asked, toying with the fabric. “I found a matching tie for you— it’s in my closet.”

There it was again. The flicker of guilt, or shame, or something. You pulled away. “Just unzip me.”

He sighed, but did as you said. The second the zipper was down, you walked away, putting as much space between the two of you as the small dorm could allow.

You pulled the dress down and tossed it over the chair of your desk. Kicked off your heels a little too aggressively. They slid beneath the risers of your bed. Didn’t matter, you wouldn’t need them.

“Baby—“

“Don’t.” You said firmly, jaw set with frustration. “When were you going to tell me?”

He didn’t respond. You pulled a tee shirt over your head and crossed your arms. He looked small sitting there, like a bug pinned under a magnifying glass.

“Art. When were you going to tell me that you weren’t going to fucking come? It’s five days until formal. Were you planning on letting me show up alone and look like a total idiot?”

He sighed, standing and crossing the room so he could wrap you in his arms. You stiffened, hoping he would let you go, but he wouldn’t.

“I was going to tell you today,” he said softly. “I swear, but then you brought out the dress, and you looked so excited that I just—“

Hurt squeezed your chest, making it feel hard to breathe or think.

“Patrick’s coming in, and Tashi thought the three of us should go to dinner. After the Pepperdine match, there are going to be team parties, so the only time that works for us would be Saturday night.”

You pulled back, a frown tugging at your lips. “So it’s about Tashi?”

He swallowed, annoyance visible on his features. “It’s not about Tashi.”

You scoffed and shoved him away. You didn’t want to be touching him, or near him, or even close enough to hear him breathing. You were torn between laughing and crying and biting his head off.

“Do you realize just how much you’ve wasted my time?” You asked finally, staring at the blank white board above your roommates bed. You could see Art’s reflection, the way his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. It made you even angrier.

“Genuinely, Art,” you snapped, turning to face him. “You’ve spent this entire fucking semester goading me with the idea that you might grow up and stop pining after your friend’s girlfriend. It’s been a waste of my fucking time.”

Art rolled his eyes. “You’re always making this about Tashi.”

“That’s because for you everything is about Tashi,” you yelled. “You want to be her boyfriend, you want to be the one she talks to about her day, you want everything I’ve given you, but from her. But she doesn’t want you, Art. She wants Patrick, and she’s always going to want Patrick.”

He rolled his eyes, jaw set tight. When he looked at you again, his expression was icy. You felt like you understood the nickname, finally. “You might feel better blaming me for all of the time you think you’ve wasted, but you knew I never wanted a girlfriend. You knew exactly what you were to me.”

“Right.” You laughed, despite everything, despite the pain in your chest, the pit in your stomach. It was all so fucking ridiculous. “I may be an idiot, Art, but at least I’m not fucking cruel.”

Art slammed the door on his way out, making the frames on the wall rattle. Your dress was red like fresh blood, a blight on your vision. You shoved it into your closet, crumpled and messy. It was a good thing you’d left the tags on.

There was a tiny part of you that thought Art might crawl back. A part of you that wanted to laugh in his face if he did, and a part of you that would accept his affection eagerly, desperately.

On Friday, Tashi fell on the court. Art was there then, and at the hospital. That night you fuck his best friend, or ex-best friend, or Tashi’s ex-boyfriend. All of the above.

On Saturday, you take your dress back to the mall for a full-refund. Patrick splits a Mrs. Fields cookie with you. It almost makes you feel better.

Two angst fics in a row? More likely than you think! Pls keep sending more changeover AU thoughts or prompts or questions! i love it :)🩵

[underthecrazy20]

It's okay Baby ~ Nishimura Riki

Genre: Angst, comfort!au

Warnings: none.

W/c: 569

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ni-ki had his arms around your frame hugging you close as you cried your frustration out. Learning a school subject wasn't the easiest for you to master, especially studying all the things you learned over the semester for the final exam. Long hours and time spent learning, doesn't help when you overwork your brain. Making it hard to understand the study material, and tonight was the breaking point after so long of holding in the pent up stress.

Ni-ki always helped you even when you didn't want it because he knew you would end up calling for him. Even though he was also studying he always made time for you.

He set up guides and exercises to help your brain grasp the knowledge more. It worked most of the time, but there were days like today when your brain wasn't the sharpest, foggy and tired. Ni-ki had spent about two hours on the same subject, because you couldn't fully understand what you had to learn and after a while you began to break.

"You can do this baby,” he encouraged, then repeated the question for the third time.

You thought again trying to remember, but nothing came to you. You began to laugh at how silly it was not to remember the answer, but it turned into frustration and it made you well up with tears. Ni-ki immediately began to panic, he knew you were struggling, but he had no idea it would affect you this badly.

"Baby, it’s okay, you're just tired." he told you. His big hands gently took your own hands as he tilted his head downward to see your downcast face. You felt frustrated and ashamed of not understanding a simple question you had studied so many times. Ni-ki frowned at your sad expression, feeling helpless in the moment.

"Baby talk to me," he spoke softly. You only sniffed as you felt tears roll down your cheeks. "You are doing great, you are so strong," you shook your head.

"No I am not, I can't even remember one question," you replied. "I'm going to fail this test,"

"No you won't, don't think that," he reassured you. When your silent tears turned into sobs, Ni-ki frowned and didn't say anything else but a small 'come here'. Then he pulled you up out of your position on the floor into his lap on the couch. You straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders hiding your face in his neck. He let you snuggle into him, feeling the comfort you needed. Then Ni-ki wrapped his arm around you and began to rub your back to soothe your stressed body and mind.

"Don't say things like that," he mumbled to you. "You are the smartest and strongest girl I know, I'm so proud of you," more tears spilled out of your eyes at his kind words. Ni-ki planted a gentle kiss into your hair, keeping his lips there. His hand continued to rub menastrantions on your back, slowly calming you down.

After a few minutes of releasing your emotions, Ni-ki leaned you back to see your face, he gently wiped your wet cheeks staring lovingly at you.

"I love you," he whispered, before kissing your lips. A few more tears slipped out of your eyes from his loving actions. "Aye..don't be sad baby," Ni-ki brushed them away cupping your cheeks. “I won’t allow it anymore,”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[anto-pops]

Lost and Found - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: You’d both fucked up, and you both knew it.  But Sebastian was starting to lose himself, and you couldn’t stop sobbing. The air was too thick for words, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest. It was too much to bear in the cavernous room, and you both cracked.  Two years of your steady cadence shuddered and fell like leaves when Sebastian found his voice first.  “I’m fucking done.”

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian dealing with the aftermath of your break-up and working through his feelings.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Mild injuries, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 

Mostly Sebastian’s POV following the argument because I wanted to put him through it 

Maybe you were naive for believing your last year at Hogwarts would be easy, but after Ranrok, Rookwood, the Keepers, and the whole debacle with Sebastian in the catacombs, you were desperate for a sense of normalcy. You had deluded yourself into thinking that things could only get better from then on, and for the most part, they had. 

There was something about this semester, though. Something in the air, or in the water. Something in your clothes and in your bed and in your chest that just kept digging deeper and sharper, leaving you uneasy and on edge. 

You and Sebastian had been tense with each other, even though you didn’t mean to be. Neither one of you meant to be assigning blame so harshly, or to be getting so worked up over nothing at all, ending up angry more often than not. Growing up had proven to be fucking scary, though, and the learning curve could be enough to knock most people on their asses and keep them there for a good, long while. You and Sebastian had juggled these fears and told one another about them after you’d both already blown up, and you had apologized quietly for snapping so hard over dumb shit like spilled vials of Wiggenweld, and sometimes it was enough. 

Sometimes, it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t enough when you threw your hands up one night to scold Sebastian too loudly for staying up late, cutting one too many corners, and getting busted in the restricted section. The weeks worth of detentions had only served to set back his schedule, but it was his own damn fault, so why was he complaining in the first place? You clenched your fists and your voice was shaking when, halfway through wondering aloud when Sebastian was going to learn to be fucking responsible, you realized you didn’t mean that, and that it was kind of a fucked up thing to say.

You might have tried to backpedal– to apologize– but Sebastian was tense. He was scared. He had fucked up his end of term project for Potions, and he was positive he’d basically failed an exam in History of Magic earlier today because of how scatterbrained he had been. He had yet to narrow down a potential career path for after school ended, which his professors never let him forget, much to his annoyance. So as you drew in a breath to stutter out an apology, Sebastian was too afraid of hearing more about what a fuckup he was to let you start. 

Blindly, he picked up the closest thing to him on the desk situated between you both, and shot out of his seat to throw it at the wall. It turned out to be an ink container, the black, murky liquid spilling down the walls of the Room of Requirement, and the sound of the shattered pieces of the bottle cascading to the floor was muted by the volume of Sebastian’s cruel words.

When Sebastian was finally out of breath from screaming and your tears were streaming down your cheeks in earnest– the salt trails equal parts rage, disbelief, and guilt– the two of you stared at one another for a long, heavy moment. 

You’d both fucked up, and you both knew it. 

But Sebastian was starting to lose himself, and you couldn’t stop sobbing. The air was too thick for words, the pain and the anger and the fear combusting into a shrieking tempest. It was too much to bear in the cavernous room, and you both cracked. 

Two years of your steady cadence shuddered and fell like leaves when Sebastian found his voice first. 

“I’m fucking done.” 

—

It had been three days of Sebastian actually staying in his dorm. He hadn’t been sleeping at all, but he was there during the night, and Ominis had been forced to listen to his friend toss and turn fitfully since he’d ended things with you so terribly. 

Sebastian could still hear the echoing slam of the massive oak doors of the Room of Requirement. He could still hear the way you’d choked on your words, and when he closed his eyes in his vain attempts to quiet his mind, all he saw was you. Your hands curled into fists, teeth savaging your bottom lip, tears coursing down your face and dripping from your chin as you’d squeezed your bloodshot eyes closed and started erasing him from your mind. 

At least, Sebastian imagined you had. 

Given his shitty academic performance in recent weeks, Sebastian couldn’t afford to skip classes in order to avoid you, but it turned out that he didn’t have to. You hadn’t shown up once to any of your classes– even the ones you didn’t share with him. It hammered home the finality of what had transpired three nights ago, and if he drank a little too much stolen Firewhiskey to cope with the sinking feeling in his chest, Ominis elected not to say anything about it. 

“You’ve been under a lot of stress recently,” Ominis said later that night, squeezing Sebastian’s shoulder as he used the brunet as leverage to lower himself into the couch cushions. The common room was deserted, and Sebastian was grateful for the lack of prying eyes, curling his hand tighter around the neck of the bottle between his legs. “Both of you have. Sometimes, things just boil over.” 

Sebastian didn’t reply at first. He didn’t even know where to fucking start. Stress couldn’t begin to excuse the shit he’d said to you right before he left. In-between your gut-wrenching sobs, he was certain he had heard your heart crack in two at some point, and it was his own fault. Running his hands down his face, Sebastian heaved a trembling sigh, trying to sort out the crappy thoughts bouncing around his tipsy brain. 

“Was she in any of your classes with you today?” Sebastian asked, his gaze trained on the ceiling as he willed the watery tone in his voice away. He had cried enough over everything– his eyes and his throat fucking ached from it. 

Ominis sighed, reaching to the side table for his steaming cup of tea. He worked it into a safe grip before blowing softly, taking a tentative sip. “Not today, no. None of her roommates have seen her in her dorm either– I already asked.” 

Sebastian just wanted to know how you looked. Maybe it was awful of him to think as much, but he liked to imagine you were faring as bad as he was. You were an impossibly strong and powerful witch, willful and understanding, and you got mad so rarely that Sebastian couldn’t help but loathe the idea of you putting on a brave face and smiling until you were over him. 

What right did he have to be thinking such things, though? He was the one who had walked out. 

Ominis said nothing when he heard Sebastian lift the bottle to his lips again, taking a hearty swig that burned on the way down. Tears welled up in his swollen, brown eyes, and they slipped down his cheeks silently, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his end of the couch. The two men didn’t say a word, but after a while, Ominis tugged Sebastian against his shoulder, letting the heartbroken man cry softly into his pajamas. 

—

“Bloody hell, mate,” Garreth muttered, leaning over his cauldron to get closer to Sebastian. “Two years, though?”

The classroom was quiet, save for the steady bubbling at everyone’s stations. They were supposed to be working on brewing an Edurus Potion, but Garreth seemed more interested in his friend’s failed love life after hearing through the grapevine what had happened. Sebastian didn’t answer, choosing to focus on adding in the Mongrel Fur to his silvery concoction. 

“Together that long and this close to graduation, I thought that was going to turn into fucking marriage, you know? Are you sure it’s–”

Garreth stopped talking when Sebastian slammed his hands down on his table, shattering a flask under the weight of his fist so suddenly, the redhead jumped back with his green eyes blown wide. Sebastian’s stare fell from Garreth to the blood pooling under his palm, biting his tongue through the stinging pain and unintentional tremors while Professor Sharp strode over to see what the commotion was about. 

Docked five house points and dismissed to the Hospital Wing, Sebastian shuffled up the winding staircases in a daze. His head hurt when he walked through the double doors to the infirmary, but he ignored the dull ache and got to dealing with his hand so he could leave faster and sleep through the impending migraine. Once all the glass had been picked out of Sebastian’s cuts and he’d been disinfected, bandaged, and fed a Wiggenweld potion for extra measure, he made his way back to the dorms. 

He dimly realized on the trek down that it wasn’t how long he had been together with you that was preventing him from getting over you. 

—

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Leander said from two tables away, raising his Butterbeer towards Sebastian and Ominis. The two were tucked away in the far corner of The Three Broomsticks at Ominis’ insistence, in some feeble attempt to get Sebastian out of the permanent rut he had found himself in for five consecutive days now. The brooding Slytherin just picked at his bandages, gritting his teeth together and silently hoping that the dirty bar floor would open up and swallow him whole. 

There were too many students around for comfort, and a number of them glanced cautiously between Leander the Sebastian, checking to make sure that the Gryffindor wasn’t at risk of having his nose broken. He meant well– especially after 6 Butterbeers– but Prewett was famously not good with words, and Sebastian didn’t trust himself to speak anymore. 

Leander motioned to Sirona for another drink, and once she’d deposited it on the table with an amused shake of her head, he walked the pint over to the dreary corner. “On me. You don’t need her, mate. Chin up.” 

With a rough clap on Sebastian’s shoulder, he left just as suddenly as he’d appeared. Ominis listened warily for any signs of anger or sadness, but all he heard was the sound of liquid sloshing as Sebastian lifted the drink to his lips and chugged down two thirds of it. 

As he set the tankard down on the table, Sebastian looked up at the cobweb covered beams overhead, acknowledging that no, he didn’t need you. 

But that wasn’t what was keeping him so low, either. 

—

After a week without so much as a glimpse of you, Sebastian took to wandering. He was restless– constantly fidgeting– like he had a fire burning under his ass all hours of the day. His chest was perpetually heavy, as though there were a Graphorn sitting on him, and his hair was in a constant state of disarray from running his hands through it. 

Sebastian was a mess. He knew he was. 

Shit, there really weren’t any other excuses for standing in a fucking fountain in the middle of the night, staring daggers at a stone dragon because there was no one else around to focus his frustrations on. There were probably better places to be shifting through his jumbled thoughts than in the middle of the Transfiguration Courtyard, but at this point, he felt bad keeping Ominis awake all night with his inability to sit still and sleep. 

Either way, Sebastian halted his wading through the water to glare firmly at the statue again, doing his best to imagine a future without you in it. 

Thus far, you had been Sebastian’s first and only love– aside from dueling. You knew him inside and out. You could look at him from across a room and know instantly how close he was to punching someone, how tired he was, or whether or not he was actually listening to a conversation. You had a million different smiles for a million of Sebastian’s petty annoyances, and all of them struck hard and true and left him feeling at peace with the state of his life. 

He knew you just as well– it wasn’t like you were some all powerful Legilimen living in his head. You had your flaws, your insecurities, your anxieties. You made mistakes, and you had inhuman levels of empathy and understanding– which was probably how you had managed to deal with him after your tumultuous fifth-year. 

There was something viscerally calming about you, something that never failed to keep him in line when he was acting like a piece of shit, and that kept him steady when he was feeling anxious. It had been too much, though, and Sebastian knew you took on the burdens of others far too heavily without stopping to think of yourself. It weighed on you. 

You weren’t perfect, but neither was he. 

Leaning against the dragon, Sebastian closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, the water in the fountain lapping at his calves and trickling soothingly in a short arc from the dragon’s parted lips. 

Maybe Sebastian just couldn’t comprehend people as well as he thought he could. That was probably it. 

You were the brains, and he was the brawns. You were philosophical, seemingly making sense of everything that crossed your path, while Sebastian understood too little despite trying. Between the two of you, you managed to make just enough sense of the world to be comfortable. But now everything was over. 

Sebastian kicked at the water idly, dodging under the dragon’s stream to make another lap around the fountain. 

He liked dueling. He appreciated how simple it was– it was do or die, realistically speaking. Cast or get casted on. Win or lose. Whoever he would go up against would inevitably let their mask slip, cluing him in on their thinking, their pain, their weaknesses. It was logical for him, and most of the time, he found his opponents predictable. 

Sebastian never could have predicted that he would walk out on you, though, and he definitely wouldn’t have ever predicted that you would let him. 

It took him a few minutes to realize that he was standing under the dragon’s stream, and it was soaking through his hair and into his shirt. He sighed, slicking his bangs away from his face before letting the cold water rain down on his flushed face for a moment, and then he was stepping out of its way. 

There had to be a reason Sebastian was having so much trouble with this. 

Leander had been unwittingly correct; Sebastian definitely didn’t need you, as in, it wasn’t like he couldn’t breathe without you. He was his own person with his own strengths, and you were the same. It wasn’t even that he had put ‘too much time into it’, as Garreth had implied, because loving you had never felt time consuming. He couldn’t even begin to move on from this, and it was pissing him off, because he was really fucking tired of crying and of staring at walls, unfocused and feeling hollow. 

Sebastian was especially tired of his hands turning over all the time to find yours, because he knew you weren’t there anymore. Still, he couldn’t stop his fingers from spreading to make room between them for yours, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning every room for you. He would never be able to stop his body from shifting to accommodate someone who would never occupy that space again. 

Sebastian fixed his stormy gaze on the dragon again, deep in thought about you. You, who always understood a little more than you probably should have, and who always knew how to read him like a damn book. You would lay beside him every night tangled together, tapping in time to the steady beat of his heart under your ear, quieting the restless drive that seemed to always exist within him.

He could move on from you. He could focus on his studies, the two of you would graduate, and eventually you would both find someone else. But ultimately, Sebastian seriously doubted he would ever feel the bone-deep comfort that stemmed from you again. It seemed highly unlikely that he would ever meet someone that made him feel the way you did. It was like… no matter how long the two of you sat and watched clouds, or meandered through the woods, it was never time wasted. It had always been okay to just exist for a while without doing something, or making something, or going somewhere. When he was with you, it had always felt okay for him to put his problems on the table and walk away from them for a while, instead of obsessively stabbing them and getting more and more frustrated. 

No matter where he went or how successful Sebastian could potentially be, he had a sneaking suspicion that his fingers would always spread just far enough for yours to slide between them. 

The sound of sloshing water filled the courtyard, and then Sebastian’s soaked shoes were slapping against the grass with each pounding step that led him full speed towards the Room of Requirement. The only thought in his mind as he skipped up the steps two at a time was that the peace that came over the both of you when you were together had to be worth fucking trying again. 

There was something to be said about how the normally concealed oak doors were already displayed, as though beckoning him to where he knew you had been hiding for days now. He eased his way inside without a second thought, noting the messy state of the desk in the corner and the stacks of books that had toppled over on themselves beside the entryway. The entire space looked lived in, and your unique scent hit him full force as he strode further into the room. 

When Sebastian reached the bottom of the tiny stairwell leading towards the larger living area, you were looking up from your seat in front of the fireplace that lit the otherwise dark chamber. The look on your sleepless face and the way your unruly hair curled wildly around your temples clued him in on the fact that he wasn’t the only one who had been feeling like utter shit this last week. Your lips parted around a silent gasp as Sebastian stumbled towards you, still panting from having sprinted to get there. 

“Hi,” he wheezed, leaning forward on his knees and forcing a deep breath into his lungs in a bid to prevent himself from passing out. 

“Sebastian?” Your voice was small and raspy– as though it hadn’t been used the entire time you’d been holed up here. “Why are you so wet–” 

“I love you,” he interrupted, his labored breathing filling the silence that followed the declaration. “I love you and I’m so fucking sorry that I’m such a prick and that I hurt you. I fucked up and I can’t take back anything that was said but I wanted you to know how sorry I am, and that I don’t want to be done, and if you aren’t tired of me yet I have a really stupid dueling metaphor for why we should stay together– mmph–” 

You had crossed the space between you both in a flash, reaching out preemptively until your trembling hands clasped Sebastian’s soaked tie to yank him towards you. 

“I missed you,” you whispered as you leaned your forehead against his, your breath warming his chilled lips– just a hair’s width away from kissing– but your hesitation burned like fire between the two of you. “Merlin, Sebastian, I’m so sorry–”

Sebastian reached up to tangle his fingers in your hair, and his damp skin caught on the tiny knots that were scattered throughout the normally tame strands. His sighs mixed with yours, the two of you murmuring tense little ‘I love you’s and ‘I missed you’s until the sounds mingled and settled in time. 

Looping an arm around your waist to guide you towards the modest bedroom the room had conjured up years ago, Sebastian maintained the tentative space between your lips, whispering your name as he led you through the hallway. Your fingers were already working open the buttons on his soaked shirt, trusting him completely to walk you safely backwards to your once shared bedroom. Sebastian slowed, taking his hands off of you only once to shrug out of his button up, dropping it haphazardly behind him. Your strikingly warm hands blazed over his shoulders, then down his chill-ridden arms, before he was bending over to rid himself of his waterlogged shoes and socks. Sebastian stood straight right after, resting his hands on your waist while your shaky hands slipped down to work at the wet catch of his trousers. 

The bedroom door was shut, so your heads banged together when Sebastian accidentally walked you into it. He blurted a string of curses, leaning down to press his lips gently against your forehead apologetically. Blindly, he reached behind you in search of the doorknob– which was quite frankly the only unfamiliar part of the entire room– because the door had never been closed before. 

Sebastian realized belatedly that oh, the door had never been closed before, and the couch you’d been perched on when he walked in had been covered in a nest of thick quilts and extra pillows. 

Oh. 

He trailed his lips slowly across your brow, then down the curve of your nose, before kissing the corners of your mouth so tenderly that the affection left you wanting to cry. Pressing one more kiss to the tip of your nose, he whispered, “You slept on the couch?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, and your fingers stilled in their efforts to remove the damp material from Sebastian’s clammy skin. Shivering slightly, you could only look up at him through your lashes, understanding that he wasn’t asking so much as he was stating. Of course he knew you had slept on the couch. 

Silence crept through the dark hallway, broken only by your meek sniffles, before you were nodding against Sebastian’s chest. He lowered his head in an instant, pressing his lips to your cheeks, but the sudden taste of salt and the slip of water had him pulling away to look at you. You were quick to wipe away the fresh tears dripping down your face, your breath hitching on barely-caught sobs and your bloodshot eyes squeezing shut against them. 

Sebastian captured your hands in his and twined your fingers together, nuzzling away your tears without a care for his own, and he hovered cautiously for a beat before finally closing the space between your lips to kiss you. 

It lasted for a moment, then a minute, then a lifetime as Sebastian leaned in closer and breathed love into you, receiving in equal parts the taste of his tenderness returned. He freed one hand to gently cup your face, his thumb wiping through the wet trails that still lingered, and your arm around his waist tightened immeasurably further, tugging him flush to you. 

You whispered against his soft lips then, your voice cracking, “What brought you back?” 

Sebastian pulled back enough to look at you– really look at you– and take in every bit of your face like he would never get the chance to again. It wasn’t like he didn’t already have every expression of yours memorized, but in the last seven days without seeing that warm light in your eyes, the world had seemed a whole lot darker. He sighed, swallowing thickly as he wondered how to begin phrasing every bottomless thought that he’d had since he realized why he hadn’t been getting over you. 

He didn’t need you to function. His relationship with you wasn’t an investment or something that could be measured with time, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t imagine a future without you. It was just that he didn’t want to. 

Sebastian didn’t want to live without you beside him. He didn’t want to grow old without you, and he didn’t want anything but to be surrounded by your warmth every day for the rest of his life. 

He leaned forward and kissed you again, just as gently as the last dozen times, and you reached up to cradle the hand he still had cupped against your cheek. Breathing a long sigh, Sebastian stared at you longingly as he murmured, “Wherever you are is where I want to be. It’s home. I wouldn’t be stranded without you, but the place I like best is wherever I can be next to you.” You trembled against him, both of you biting back resurfacing tears and failing miserably. “If it’s okay, can I come home?” 

A tiny whimper slipped from your throat as you nodded, wiggling your arms up to throw them around Sebastian’s shoulders, and then you were sniffling feebly into the crook of his neck. Sebastian wrapped his arms around your wait, holding you tightly as he fumbled for the doorknob, and by the time the two of you had crossed the short space to the bed, you were somewhere between laughing and crying. 

Your hands moved back to Sebastian’s glued on trousers, leaning up into his kisses eagerly as you swiftly got to removing the painfully cold attire. With a little assistance from the brunet, the two of you managed the pants– by the grace of Merlin and more than a little shimmying. Sebastian’s briefs and the oversized jumper you wore vanished significantly quicker than the rest, and he quickly eased you down onto the soft, familiar sheets. 

Sebastian rolled over beside you, lifting his hips to haul the covers over you both before he pressed his still-chilled body into your welcoming embrace, and he relished in the shiver that coursed over you from the contact. 

When your lips came together the next time, neither one of you pulled away, leaving your tears outside of the safe, blanketed world you’d created for yourselves. The whispered love that twined like smoke alongside the quiet sounds of your hands relearning each other’s skin filled the air for hours. Gasping breaths and soft moans of your name were all you could hear, Sebastian’s gentle affirmations of reverence making your heart swell with unbridled affection. 

You stayed like that all night, wholly content for the first time in a good, long while. When the sun finally began to cast its waking rays through the paneled window, bathing you both in a golden glow that illuminated the drying sweat on your skin, Sebastian’s soft murmurs and twin heartbeat lulled you into a blissful sleep.

Just before unconsciousness stole you away, you threaded your fingers through his own, letting your intertwined hands rest atop his chest in the same way Sebastian had so dearly missed. He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, closing his eyes against the growing morning light, and he felt lighter than he ever had as you thoughtfully whispered, “Welcome home.” 

[bucknastysbabe]

I can have an aegon ii crying and whining (love to see that man cry) because he knows you're going to break up with him....

I hope this is alright, thanks for the request. Xoxo

Rating: Mature

Tags: TW//Alcohol abuse, addiction, verbal and emotional abuse, alcoholic/addict Aegon, codependency, description of DTs, break-up, man tears, modern!au, sorry I projected my alcoholism on this, man tears whiny pathetic babykins

A/N: Sorry Anon if I took some liberties, I felt this as a good reason for him to be crybaby. Alcoholic projection gets me ass sometimes

“No-nononono!,” Aegon cried from behind you.

You poured the last of his bottle out of the sink. The fucker had hidden the booze in your boots. Your boots. After boldly claiming he was sober, clean, and going to meetings. Alas, here you were again, Aegon whining and begging once again. Cycle of insanity as that blue book he owned said. Fat tears leaked from his wide orbs, lips trembling, face blotchy and red.

“You lied to me!,” you barked.

He tugged at his hair, big violet eyes fixated on that precious liquid going down the drain. Aegon whimpered, “Stop. Stop it! I’m sorry, I- I- I won’t do it anymore! I hid it for an emergency!” He sobbed as you placed the now empty bottle onto the counter.

This was on and off for what felt like the entirety of the relationship. It was fun at first— party Prince Aegon Targaryen. You two would go all night. You began to grow tired of the non-stop celebration. He’d keep going, snorting in the bathroom, taking something to sleep, leaving to hang out with the ‘bros’. Always had a reason to have something in his system.

You didn’t know if he had ever cheated. It felt he cheated on you with the bottle— ‘his baby’ he so fondly referred to alcohol one time. He had to take an extra semester only to land on academic probation. You graduated and got a job, got a place with Aegon. Upon moving in you expressed your feelings about his habits, the blonde apologizing and swearing he’d be on the straight and narrow.

Your stupid simple heart thought he would change, the little oath he made would settle Aeg some. He did at first, snuggling down for movies, grandiose gifts, and dinner for two with one cup of wine. Looking back on Aegon’s behavior he was too settled— a little hazy, forgetful, coming in and out of the world. Checking his bedside drawer that night explained the situation. Bars upon bars of Xanax in a bag. Something to quell the annoyance of being a real boyfriend.

That was a big fight. You ‘broke up’ with him on the spot. Aegon immediately burst into sobs, crying and promising to do better. No more pills. You believed him, again, the fucker even charmed you back into bed. ‘Making love’, holding hands as he filled you up, promising and apologizing. Sorry sorry sorry.

It’s about all he could muster anymore with you. Sorry.

You swallowed a sob and warbled, “You keep saying you’re going to change Aegon! It never happens! Here were are again, finding your little lies all over the place. You need help! Sorry doesn’t change shit baby. I’m done, I’m done with this. Do you even think about my feelings?”

He whined in distress, walking over and dropping to his knees. You let your sick baby cry into your stomach, arms wrapped tight around you. Sighing heavily you pet his white hair, nose wrinkling at the booze coming off his skin, the sink, everywhere.

He looked up with reddened eyes, pretty lips trembling as he begged, “You’ve got to help me, please, I can’t stop. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t leave me alone, I-I’m scared.” Every part of your body wanted to believe him. The trust had been long shattered like the bottle he threw at the wall one time— smashing it in a drunken rage.

“Why can’t you just piss off and let me do my thing? Fucking ball and chain!”

Aegon whined your name some more, gripping harder. He whimpered, “You won’t leave me right? Right my love?” You looked away and wiped a tear. He clung harder, sobbing, “No, please love, puh-please, no.” Wrenching free from the grip you shook your head. He tried to grab again, you stepping backward with a hand up.

“No Aegon. You need to seek help. For yourself, not me. I’m done. You’ve hurt me enough,” softening your tone you added, “Baby, you’re very very sick. You’ll die. Make a choice.”

He looked disgustingly sad and pathetic on his knees, hands wrenching at whatever was available. Aegon’s brow furrowed as he hissed, “So you’re like the rest— just leaving me.” You sighed in pity, running a hand over your brow. This was getting harder by the second, the damn man wearing you down to a nub.

“No Aegon. You made them leave. Pushed all of us away on your pursuit for, for, whatever you’re seeking inside.”

He warbled, “Don’t say that.”

“Just go look in the mirror. Call your mother.”

You stepped out of the wretched apartment, Aegon’s wailing filling your ears. ‘Don’t leave me!’ You’d break down later. It felt like a gaping wound settled in your chest. You idly wondered if Aegon felt like that— needing to fill the pocket with anything that didn’t make the blonde feel like himself.

Aegon stared in the mirror, puking after a short gaze. He hated what stared back at him. Hated everything really. Now he had nothing to suck on to take the pain away. No baby to coddle him, his baby, who he used and abused like everything else. Aegon sniffled and wiped his mouth. Leaning on the wall in front of the toilet he dialed his mother's number. Straight to voicemail.

“Hey Mom. I need help. Like, put me somewhere help.”

He frowned at how worn down and whiny his voice sounded. Whatever. What did he have left anyway? A future? Maybe. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the inevitable shakes begin. There might be a hidden spot up in the fake fireplace. The prince would get it when he’d start shaking enough to lose the ability to walk.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

If the Sun Starts Setting

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: Swearing, family drama, characters celebrating Christmas, mom with terminal illness, crying mentions

a/n: Sorry to post this so late everyone! I have had the WORST brain fog today. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs fuel me!

After just one semester of law school, the drive between suburban Connecticut and the Columbia campus was one you were becoming well-acquainted with. It wasn’t unbearably long, nor flooded with traffic on a dark Sunday evening. Headlights of oncoming vehicles painted swatches of light against the navy sky, a semi-urban work of art unlike anything you’d enjoyed before. Usually, it was a sight you took the time to admire. However, this particular evening you were unable to focus on anything but the tinny voice bubbling out of your phone’s speaker. 

Gritting your teeth and rolling your eyes to the heavens, you cursed the universe for a moment, tuning out the man on the other end of the line while you did so.

The sharp call of your name across the speakers regained your attention. ”Are you listening to me?“

Your father's inflection was grating on the best days. After three weeks spent waiting on him and your two ungrateful siblings while they preached about the importance of family during the holidays, you were ready to scream with every word he spat at you. The two hour drive back to campus was supposed to be the growing light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you'd spent the last third of it arguing with your father about healthcare charges.

”Yes, I'm listening.“ ‘Unlike some of us’, you thought to yourself. ”As I said, that charge was for her brief hospital stay over Thanksgiving. I've already paid it and it might take a week or two to reflect—“

”This is a debt collection notice, hun. That means they didn't receive the payment yet. Which means they'll be coming after me when your mom inevitably cannot pay.“

Contemplating banging your head against your steering wheel just to remove the memory of this conversation, a flash of movement across the parking lot caught your eye. Expression softening, you almost sobbed in relief when you caught the two beaming expressions of your friends waving from the exterior door. Unfortunately, your father wasn't quite done arguing with you.

”Dad, I understand you don't want to be on the hook for this—“ ‘Not like you would be anyway.’

”I most certainly do not.“ He interrupted. Once again ignoring his rambling, you snatched your backpack and exited your car, slamming the door with a bit more force than usual.

”Dad, just forget about it, ok? I'll deal with it, just—“

”Well, clearly you won't deal with it in a timely fashion, which is why I'm calling...“ ‘Was he trying to kill you? It sure felt like it.’

”Ok, well I just got back to school so I need to go now.“ You tried to nudge him into polite farewells as you practically sprinted across the pavement towards your friends. As expected, he didn't take kindly to being rushed off the phone.

”Of course you do,“ He laughed incredulously. ”You know, this is your mother's livelihood we are discussing. It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more compassionate.“ ‘You're one to talk asshole.’

”You're right. I'll try to work on that this semester,“ You remarked drily. ”Gonna go inside now. Bye.“

Not bothering to listen to the screaming that answered your callous goodbye, you hung up, breaking into a strained smile as you greeted your boys. ”Why hello there, strangers.“

As if he didn't just witness you walk literally and figuratively closer to a breakdown, Foggy squealed, nearly taking you to the pavement in a tackling hug. “Welcome back, bug!”

“Christ, Fog, you're gonna crush her.” Matt laughed, hearing you grunt as you fumbled to stay upright with Foggy coiled around you like a boa constrictor.

“I missed you too, Fog.” You murmured, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being embraced.

You had missed them. Deeply and almost pathetically. After an entire semester at each other's sides, the few weeks in your hometown for Christmas had felt like an eternity.

After Matt and Foggy had been struck with the campus flu, the rest of the semester passed in a whirlwind. The two clingy boys had unsurprisingly infected you, meaning you were unfortunately sick for Thanksgiving and had to remain on campus to avoid passing the virus on to your immunosuppressed mother. Matt had been incredibly apologetic, and plagued with his typical Catholic guilt, so he'd stayed with you while Foggy returned to Hell's Kitchen for Turkey Day.

The next few weeks were spent cramming for finals and, eventually, celebrating the end of your first semester at Columbia—which you had all, amazingly, passed. Leaving for the lengthier winter break had been an abrupt end to the joy you felt over your grades, however.

You returned to New Haven a day earlier than expected to sit in the local hospital's oncology ward with your mother. While you were ill over Thanksgiving, she'd had a recurrence of stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which meant more frequent trips to see her doctor as well as numerous bills that neither of you could afford. Because of her declining health, your father and siblings had come to Connecticut for Christmas. The extra company meant that your holidays–which were meant to be a time for recuperation following a strenuous first semester–had been frustrating to the point of tears. Which, embarrassingly enough, Matt had been burdened with when you called him to complain.

The two of you called multiple times a week, exchanging stories and annoyances just like you did when you were living within a few blocks from each other. But it didn't stop you from missing him and Foggy fiercely for 24 excruciating days.

Swallowing a lump of pent up emotion, you huffed out a shaky exhale, your breath clouding in the frigid winter air. “Ok, Fog. You know I love you, but it's cold as fuck out here.”

“Right! Sorry.” Foggy withdrew from the embrace, blushing furiously as he scratched at the back of his neck.

Immediately replacing Foggy in front of you, Matt took a chance to hug you quickly before pulling you inside. “Glad you're finally here, I thought Nelson here was going to combust.”

Letting Matt usher you inside, you heard Foggy's baffled scoff. “Do I look like a patient man to you, Murdock?”

Matt smirked, “How would I know?”

You and Foggy both groaned loudly, looking to each other for support as Matt cackled. “C'mon, you set that one up perfectly. What's a guy to do?”

“You should've heard him over break, bug. He was driving my poor mother towards a stroke, I swear.” Foggy shook his head in feigned irritation.

“Oh please, she loved me.” Matt shoved his roommate, nearly bowling the three of you down the staircase as you trudged toward their room.

“I bet she did.” You snorted, “You probably dialed the charm up to 11.”

“Try 15.” Foggy remarked, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

Ignoring the jab, Matt held out a hand for your bag, allowing you to slip out of your coat and shoes.

“Who were you on the phone with?” His question was meant to open the can of worms in a structured way, rather than answer his own burning question. He’d bet dollars to donuts that it was–

“My father.” Came your fatigued response, confirming his suspicions. Your words were tinged with a bitterness that he’d expected, but they held a deeper upset thinly veiled by your exhaustion.  

“Is everything ok?” Foggy asked quietly, his brow pinching with worry as he studied the bags under your eyes. The blond was less informed on the hell you’d been put through over the last month or so, only picking up bits and pieces if Matt relayed them.

With a groan, you collapsed unceremoniously onto Matt’s bed beside him, leaning heavily into him as one of his arms fell across your shoulders. “Of course, it’s just…it wasn’t the pleasant send off I was hoping for.”

Your pulse jumped when you spoke, steadying out as you reached the end of your sentence. Matt already knew that things weren’t “ok” with your mom or your home life in general, but he blinked in surprise to hear the disappointment that coated your words as you referenced your father’s curt goodbye. Making a note to bring that up when you seemed more inclined to be vulnerable, he rubbed a palm over your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish it had been better.”

Huffing a tiny laugh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Me too. How were your holidays?”

“Pleasant.” Matt murmured at the same time Foggy clapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I forced Matt to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me and we ate our weight in cookies.” The long-haired boy explained with genuine enthusiasm. As he began to recount the escapades from the annual Nelson holiday party, your eyes flicked upwards to look at Matt, whose arm was still moving slowly across your shoulder and back as he caressed your sleeve. His eyes were trained forward, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as you focused on him, so you had a sneaking suspicion that neither of you were listening to Foggy’s story. You’d forgotten how well he could read you, until he gave you the option to pretend everything was fine with your dad.

He knew it wasn’t, and you did too. And maybe shoving that shit deep down and pretending it didn’t exist wasn’t a healthy way of handling it, but if you met Foggy’s worried gaze right now it would make you cry, which you were not prepared for. So, whether it was a wonderful coincidence or Matt could truly read you like a picture book, you were thankful for his deflection.

Smiling softly, you looked back to Foggy, listening to him talk about his drunk aunts fawning over Matt and feeling the thick tension bleed out of your shoulders.

Eventually, Foggy took a deep breath, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Woah, head rush!”

Matt chuckled, “You didn’t even stand up, buddy. You ok over there?”

“Yah, I’m fine! Just excited!” Foggy waved a hand, unfazed.

“And I can’t wait to hear about everything, Fog. But maybe we should take a break for presents?”

“Presents?” Foggy’s eyes widened along with his grin, his behavior as animated as a child’s at the mention of gifts. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laughed, prying yourself out of Matt’s secure grip and opening your bag. Tossing two wrapped bundles across the room and onto Foggy’s bed, you set the other two in Matt’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, my lovely Musketeers!” You giggled as Foggy mime-fenced toward you. As soon as the blond was finished beating you in the imaginary sword fight, he eagerly tore into the glittery wrapping paper. Next to you, Matt looked much more apprehensive about the packages in his lap.

“Go on, Matty. Open them!” You encouraged, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“But we don’t have anything for you,” Matt’s lips curled into a pout, looking like a sulking kitten as he trailed a single finger along the crisp edge of the parcel nearest to his hand.

You rolled your eyes fondly. The poor kid had a strong enough sense of justice for the whole campus. ”Matty, we're in college. And I'm the only one with a job. I didn't expect you to get me anything.“

”But—“ Matt argued, but you cut him off with a laugh.

”No more buts! I got these presents for you because I wanted to, not because I thought I’d receive something in return. Please open them?“ Though he couldn't see your face, you batted your lashes and widened your eyes, hoping he could sense the pleading expression.

With a frown, he nodded once, carefully peeling the tape from the paper as if the task required surgical precision. Grinding his teeth as the paper crinkled raucously, he slid the first gift out of its casing carefully, as if he was expecting it to shock him if he moved too quickly. Withdrawing a lump of the softest material he'd ever felt, he ran a thumb over it, trying to decipher what it was. The strip of wool was composed of thick braided stitches, promising to retain warmth in even the most bitter winter weather.

”A scarf?“ He asked, his lips pursed into a small, surprised oval. A rosy blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

”Yes! I made one for you and one for Foggy. Except yours is a deep red and his is orange.” You spoke softly, smiling over to where the longer-haired boy was wrapping the length of yarn around his neck triumphantly.

“Our favorite colors.” Matt murmured, his fingers still tracing the fuzzy stitching. “You remembered?“

”Of course I did, trouble. That's important information. I'd be a fool to let it slip through the cracks.“ You hoped the joke would make him laugh, but he continued to stare blankly at the scarf as if it was an animal that had just died in his arms. ”If you don't like it, I can take it back, and donate it or something–“

”No!“ Matt looked up, horrified, clutching the scarf to his chest. ”No, I love it. I just...“

Turning his face back to his lap, he licked his lips before continuing. ”I've never gotten something like this before. I don't know what to say, is all.“

”No need to say anything, bub. I'm glad you like it.“ You rubbed your palm over his arm, mirroring his actions from just a moment ago.

Still focused on his own gifts, Foggy's excited screech startled both you and Matt. ”NO WAY!“

Turning to you with a dropped jaw, Foggy shook his head. ”There is no way you got this.“

”What is it, buddy?“ Matt asked, his lips curled into a soft smile as he heard Foggy open a hardcover book eagerly.

”A first edition of The Fellowship of the Ring!“ Foggy was practically giddy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rifled through the pages. ”How did you even get this?“

Grinning at him, you giggled. ”My mom has a friend with an extensive book collection and asked where we could find one. Turns out, the friend had one of her own and was willing to part with it for next to nothing. Guess she owed my mom a favor.”

Diving across the room to crush you in another hug, Foggy kissed the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”

Laughing brightly, you struggled to shove your friend off of you. When he was this worked up, Foggy had the tenacity of an overexcited golden retriever. As usual, Matt helped release you from his clutches. ”You're welcome, Fog. I wanted to get you a nice copy since you lost the one you brought to school.”

“I'd say you accomplished that, my lovely jitterbug.” Foggy ruffled your hair, retreating to his bed and launching himself onto the mattress–the rusted springs creaking in protest.

Giggling at him, you turned back to Matt. “Alright, Murdock. Your turn, again. After this, I promise never to put you through this torture again. Until next year.”

Matt groaned in response, snatching the second gift with more vigor. “Let's get this over with.”

Approaching the gift with the same systematic tactic as the first, he slid the paper off of the box without a single tear. Setting the wrapping aside, he opened the cardboard package and pulled out his real gift.

“Ok so, I'm not sure how helpful these will be,” You warned, fidgeting with your hands as he ran his fingers along the band connecting the ear pieces. “But, they're, um, noise-canceling headphones?”

Matt's breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed with guilt and affection and surprise at the present, all words of gratitude pulled back down to his vocal chords as he focused solely on not bursting into tears.

Over the past few weeks, the Nelsons had been kind enough to invite him to stay and celebrate with them. He was flattered, and so thankful, but he wasn't used to so many...people. During a few of your phone calls over the break, he'd mentioned that the excessive stimuli, mainly noise, had been getting to him and giving him headaches. And rather than chastising him for being ungrateful, you'd listened and sympathized with him over the phone, ultimately buying him a solution to the issue with your own money.

Sure, there was no guarantee that these would work for his heightened senses, but you didn't know that. And the idea that you were willing to go to such immense lengths to ensure his comfort...it was evidence of a love he hadn't experienced in a decade.

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Your worried murmur broke his train of thought.

“No,” He choked out. ”No, they're perfect. So is the scarf. Thank you, bug.“

”Of course. Merry Christmas, Matt.“ You kissed his cheek gently and he felt a flush crawling up his neck. Wrapping an arm around you, he tucked you close to his chest, hand cradling the back of your neck.

”Merry Christmas, sweetheart.“

The two of you sat there in silence, holding each other close for a minute before your phone rang. Sighing deeply, you rested your head against Matt's shoulder as you fumbled for your phone. Thankfully, the screen displayed your mom's contact information, not your father.

“Sorry, trouble. I have to take this.“ You squeezed his arm, pulling out of his embrace and stretching as you stood. ”I'll be right back. Hopefully.“

Smiling at your near-groan, Matt jerked his chin towards the door. ”We'll be here.“

Slipping into the hallway, you lowered your voice. ”Hey mama, everything ok?“

”Hey baby, everything's fine, just had a couple questions for you about bills.“ Her sweet voice was strained and you could practically see her flicking her gaze to meet your father's, his metaphorical gun to her head as she made the call.

”Ok,“ You ground out, trying not to snap at her when she wasn't the reason you were frustrated. ”Um, what questions did you have?”

“You did pay the one from November?” She asked, predictably.

“I did. It'll reflect soon and Dad has nothing to worry about. The bill is attached to our names, not his. That's why Collections isn't writing to him.“ You explained as calmly as you could, knowing that she was aware of this already, but probably had you on speakerphone. ”Was that all?“

”Not exactly.“ Her tone shifted, pitching lower and sounding almost embarrassed. A crackle rippled over the line and suddenly your father's gruff voice replaced the one you adored.

“You need to come home next weekend to help your mom with the next round of billing. I've run out of time off and can no longer assist.” He commanded, the ‘compassion’ he held for her livelihood nowhere to be found.

‘Oh because you were so helpful this month when you were ordering us around.’  You griped internally. “What round of billing? The one from Thanksgiving–”

“Was four appointments ago. These things aren't free, you know. They’re wanting us to pay for them.”

Both you and your bank account were intimately familiar with the steep cost of her treatment. Inhaling deeply, you paced a few steps from Matt and Foggy's room. “I know they aren't free. We signed her up for a payment plan two weeks ago that offers a deferral–”

“She was denied.” His laconic answer made your spirits plummet as time came to a halt. Your pounding heart froze in place, dread creeping up your spine. 

“What?” On the off chance that he was being unintentionally misleading, you needed to clarify.

Your mother's apologetic voice came over the line once again. ”I wasn't accepted into the financial assistance program, baby. But, it's ok! I can pick up more shifts–“

”No!” You exclaimed, the shrill edge of your cry echoing down the hallway. You tried again, digging your nails into the flesh of your palm as you fought to keep your voice steady.

“Don't...you don't need to do that mama. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I'll come home on Friday and we can talk about options, ok?“ You bargained, running through your work schedule in your head to create a plan.

”Are you sure, honey? Won't you be busy getting a head start on the semester?“ 

Blinking back tears at her obvious care for you, you cleared your throat before answering. “It’s alright, mama. It’s just syllabus week, I’m sure I’ll have time to come home and sort things out.”

“She’ll make time.” Your father’s promise was more for your mom than you, but it felt like a swift kick to the gut all the same. 

Because you would make time. You had to. No one else would. You were your mom’s last line of defense. Prioritizing yourself and failing to be there for her wasn’t an option you had. The emotional burden you were carrying felt impossibly heavy, as if there was a line of anvils across your shoulders and chest, slowly forcing the oxygen out of your lungs until you perished. 

“Of course I will. I’ll see you this weekend, mama. Love you.” You choked out, slapping a palm over your mouth before you broke. 

“I love you too, baby. Have a good week at school!” You could picture her tired smile as she wished you a proper goodbye, the image cracking your composure. 

You hung up before the first tear rolled down your cheek. Dropping your face into your hands, you bit your lip to stifle a sob, letting the tears flow silently instead. Falling back against the wall behind you, you let your legs give out as you collapsed to the disgusting dorm hallway carpet. 

The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the noises drifting through the thin walls, an urge to scream churned in your chest. Ugly, rage filled sobs were barreling up your throat, desperately trying to claw their way out, to make your pain known. Hunching over your knees in a pitiful crouch, you shielded your face with your arms, preventing any passersby from seeing your much-needed meltdown. 

Choking out a breath around another half-smothered sob, you nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up frantically, the outburst downgraded to a strangled whine when you saw Matt’s furrowed brow directed at you. 

Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, opening his arms with a frown. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you couldn’t help the hideous sounds that escaped you as he enveloped you in his muscular arms with ease. Tucking your head under his chin, you shook violently against his chest as you bawled. 

“I can’t do this, Matt. I can’t–” You gasped out, your breath stuttering as you wept forcefully into his shoulder. 

Shushing you gently, he rubbed circles into your back with his large hand.

Whimpering at the touch, you wiped at your tear-streaked face furiously. “”I’m barely an adult. How am I supposed to do this?” Your voice shattered around the words, throat constricting with anguish.

“I don’t know,” Matt cooed, stroking a fresh pair of tears away from your skin with his thumbs. “But I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.” 

Burying your face into his neck miserably, you shuddered with distaste. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” He whispered gravely, pressing a kiss to your crown. 

With that promise, your brain seemed to shut off. Your tears gradually slowed to a halt, leaving you dazed and exhausted in Matt’s lap. Heaving out a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes, letting his soft touches wash over you like the tides. Kissing your forehead tenderly, Matt cupped your cheek. 

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere softer than this shitty floor, hmm?” His small question was meant to make you laugh, but your fatigue had chased away every other emotion. 

Nodding softly, you let Matt pull you from the ground and back into his room, welcoming the darkness after the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Sliding off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand, he guided you to Foggy’s bed. The blond frowned at you, setting his book aside. 

“You ok, bug?” He asked, sitting up to inspect your puffy eyes.

Shaking your head tiredly, you crawled onto his mattress and let him wrap you in a hug. Matt, with an impressive amount of agility, somehow leapt onto the bed behind you, snaking his arms around your middle so that you were sandwiched between him and his roommate. You listened to their steady breathing, letting the sound lull you into a more peaceful state of mind. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Matt’s lips scratched over the back of your head. “Fog, think you could read some of your book for us?”

“Uh, yah totally.” Foggy pouted, gaze still lingering on your drained face. “Let me just find my page.”

The combination of your worn-out consciousness and the comforting presence of your two best friends was dangerous. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel yourself drifting off. 

As if reading your thoughts, Matt kissed your hair. “Go on, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Squeezing his fingers, you stopped fighting the darkness pulling at the edges of your vision, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

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[itsbeeble]

If I (Lovin Me pt 3)

Summary: Jeonghan has made so many mistakes. He’s let so many things slip away, so many things that he’s cherished. He won’t let that happen again. He won’t let you slip away from him anymore.

Genre: Angst, fluff, College!au

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x fem!reader (featuring Joshua, S.Coups, Hoshi, Mingyu, and DK)

WC: ~6.7k

Read other parts: pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not a ton though), mild flirting, Jeonghan is sad, reader is sad, everyone is sad, swearing, name calling (not the fun kind), a few mental breakdowns, the reader knows she was being manipulated and was somewhat okay with it (idk just read it), Joshua is flirty but like in a best friend kinda way, everyone knows Jeonghan and Y/N are simps, Jeonghan MEGA SIMP

Listen to If I by Seventeen for full effect

A/N: In honor of me reaching 300 followers, here is part 3 of Lovin me! I appreciate all of you for reading this and I hope you continue to enjoy my works <3

~

Our path, our promise to be together

Is already thwarted and you walk away, turning your back on me

It reduces to a single dot

It's too empty outside of that interest

I hope that that dot

Comes back before me and turns into you

“Have I ever told you how stupid you are?” 

Jeonghan is sitting on the couch, head down and his hands tangled in the strands of his hair. Across from him stands Joshua, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Seokmin. He barely makes the effort to listen to his friends as they yell at him. He wants to say that he doesn’t know where those words came from. He wants to say he didn’t mean to say any of that, that he was just mad and didn’t know what else to do. 

But that’s a lie. 

He knew exactly what he was saying. Though the reason he said it is something that can’t be found, he’d wanted to tell you that since the night of the party. 

“Are you even listening to us?” Soonyoung’s gaze is hard. There’s nothing but anger in his eyes, and Jeonghan feels the guilt beginning to seep into his bones again. “What the fuck were you even thinking?”

“Soonyoung,” Joshua, ever the voice of reason, cuts in. “Leave him be.”

“Shua—” A glare from the older man and Soonyoung shuts his mouth, leaving the room shortly after. 

“Seok, make sure Soonyoung stays out.” The other man doesn’t really say anything, just shoots Jeonghan a murderous look before stalking out of the room. 

There’s a certain tension building between the three remaining men. Jeonghan keeps his head down, avoiding the judging glare the Seungcheol obviously has glued on and the disgust that Joshua tries to force down and replace with pity. The two, having known Y/N a little more than everyone else, were rightfully angered. 

“Do you have anything to say to defend yourself?” 

Jeonghan finally lifts his head, his cheeks red from anger and embarrassment. He wants to scream and yell and throw things and hit the men in front of him. He wants to run out the door, find you, and fix things. He wants to do so much, but all he can do is bite back a sob. 

He’d never been a particularly emotional man. He’d never been one for crying, thinking that there was no point in being upset over something from the past. His family had always been stoic people, keeping their emotions to themselves and never letting the public see them come apart. Jeonghan had grown up the same way. Jeonghan had thought that he’d stay that way.

Then he met you.

Emotional. Broken. Crying over dogs that die in movies. He’d been disgusted by how open you were with your thoughts. Disgusted that you showed your struggles to the world and didn’t care if you embarrassed yourself.

~

The first time Jeonghan officially met you was in the spring of your sophomore year. He was a semester ahead of you and had convinced himself that he was far superior to every other student at this university. He’d seen you in passing, in some classes the semesters prior, and had bumped into you in the halls once or twice. Never had you spoken. Never had either of you thought the other was important. 

He approached you for the first time while you were studying for your Organic Chem final. You’d been crying quietly at the time, muffling your sobs with the sleeve of your sweater. It worked, mostly. But apparently, Jeonghan, from across the library, believed that you were far too loud and far too pathetic for his liking. 

“You’re weak.” He stares down at you, standing at the head of your table in the library while you try to stop your tears. You look up at him, tears not slowing and a confused pout on your face. His lip curls, anger washing over him in tidal waves. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re weak,” he repeats. “Pathetic, really, that you’re crying over something so trivial.”

“Why do you care what I’m crying about?” You ask.

“Oh, I couldn’t give less of a shit about you,” he smiles, but it’s condescending. He doesn’t care what you feel after this, he just wants his opinion of you known so you can stay out of his way. “I care that you’re annoying as shit and bothering me while I try to get stuff done without listening to your pathetic blubbering.” 

You’re shocked, he can tell, but that just means that his words will sink in and hopefully you can shut up. 

Unfortunately, he underestimated you. And, unfortunately, he failed to see the iced coffee beside your textbooks until it was soaking into his hair and the crisp white button-down he’d made the fatal mistake of wearing that day. 

“Who…” he seethes, “the fuck do you think you are?” 

“Who do you think you are?” You snap back. “I didn’t fucking do anything to you, so why do you think you have the right to come over here and insult me? You don’t even know me you egotistical rich prick.” He would never have admitted it to you, but he’d admired how you stood up to him. How you didn’t bend to his will just because of who he was, what his reputation was. He’d admired that you didn’t even recognize him, although, at the same time, it bothered him to no end. Jeonghan wanted you to know him. He wanted to break that strong will of yours, no matter what it took. 

Especially now that you’d dumped coffee over his head and forever stained his favorite shirt.

~

It was months later— September of your junior year, to be exact— that he allowed himself to let his guard down for the first time. At least, for the first time in front of you, of all people. Jeonghan, frankly, couldn’t help the disgust overwhelming every other emotion when you’d approached him outside his frat’s party. He’d tucked himself away, out of the view of all partygoers, hidden by the branches of an old oak tree. His heart beat rapidly, slamming against his ribs time and time again until he thought the bones were going to break. 

A crunch in the leaves behind him and he flinches, tearing his head out of his hands to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

He catches sight of you, and you him. 

You’re wearing a skirt much too short and a shirt far too tight to be considered comfortable. You walked in heels far too tall for your feet to stay stable in, and he watches you wobble over to him. He can’t find it in him to scoff or laugh or mock you. He lets you sit beside him, playing with your thumbs and not saying anything. 

You listen to him cry, but you don’t make fun of him as his family would. You don’t comfort him. He’s grateful to you. He’d never admit it, but he was grateful that you just sat there quietly. 

He lets his head slip down and rest on your shoulder, and he feels you tense up. Jeonghan half expects you to shove him off, with how he’d treated you. 

You don’t. 

The next day, you went back to normal. He knew it hurt you when he started openly berating you again, mocking the way you dress and the way you talk. He saw the tears pricking in your eyes and scoffs. How dare you think that things would be different. How naive could one possibly be?

After your class together, though, he’d made excuses to his friends so he could catch up to you. They didn’t question him. They never did. 

“Hey,” he called out to you. The halls were near empty. Most people were either studying or in class, so nobody would see him approaching you. 

You turn to him, your eyes narrowed. 

“Yes?” Your answer is simple, your voice quiet but clearly annoyed. He frowns. 

“I just— I hope you know that last night changed nothing about how I feel about you.” You raise an eyebrow, and he goes to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” He runs his tongue over his lip and shrugs. 

“Because you’re easy.”

~

“I told her she was easy.” Jeonghan looks between Joshua and Seungcheol with this…distraught look on his face. “I told her that she was an easy target. Like she was someone that was meant to be used.” Joshua mumbles some curses under his breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping away momentarily. 

“When did you say that?” Seungcheol asks quietly. Jeonghan can practically feel the rage building inside the older man, can feel it bubbling up inside him and waiting to boil over. 

“During…while I was talking to her. I told her just a little bit ago and— and I told her that a few months ago. Back when we first started this whole thing.” More tears are beginning to well up. He can feel them starting to roll down his cheeks but his body is shaking so badly he can’t move. “She knew from the start that I hadn’t given a shit about her. Why did she— why would she agree to that arrangement if she’d known I was just using her?”

“Because she cared about you, Jeonghan.” Joshua snaps. “Because even though she knew you hated her, she also knew that you felt you had no one who could help save you from yourself. She saw that you were just killing yourself slowly, from the inside out, and she wanted to help you no matter what it cost her.”

~

“Y/N?” A tap on your shoulder and you flinch, jolted out of the trance your econ textbook had you in. Joshua stands to your right, two coffees in hand and his backpack over one shoulder. You smile at him and he sets the drinks down, away from any of your papers. “I figured you’d need something to keep you going.” A pretty smile, one that would have anyone’s heart fluttering. 

Yours wasn’t excluded from that.

“I appreciate that, Joshua.” His bag drops to the floor, and he watches you for a few moments. He watches you spin the cup he’d set closer to you, tracing your nail across the lid while you highlight any information that stood out to you within the pages. There’s no discomfort between you two. There’s no elephant in the room. You know why he’s there, but you also know he’s not there for Jeonghan. He’s there for you. 

“Are you…Are you doing okay?” Your eyes flick up to his again and you shrug.

“Good as I can be. You heard what he said. I know you did.” He nods slowly. 

“Yeah…” You smile sadly.

“I should’ve known it, really.” Joshua’s head jerks back slightly, his eyes narrowing at you to try and figure out what you mean. “That he didn’t really care about me.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N.” Joshua shakes his head and you shrug again.

“Sure it is. I mean…I don’t doubt that I was a form of comfort for him and that he grew attached, but at the end of the day I didn’t do much more than that. I was different. I was something that he wasn’t used to, and he liked that. Maybe that thought somehow convinced him he was in love with me but that’s…I don’t believe he did. Because if he loved me, why was he saying those things to my face? Why was he…why was he so cruel?” 

Your eyes are beginning to sting with the presence of tears, and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe them away. Joshua watches you sadly and curiously. You want to laugh. Only a year ago, you’d been in a similar position with Jeonghan. Him crying under that stupid oak tree with you watching him and not saying anything. 

“I don’t know, Y/N…I truly…” Joshua inhales and sinks back into his chair. “I wish I could give you some kind of explanation for the things he did. He’s…he’s always been a bit rough around the edges. He’s only started opening up to us because of you. Because you taught him that it’s okay to feel things like that.”

“I didn’t teach him shit.”

“That’s not true, baby.” He shuts his mouth when the name slips out, and he waits for you to correct him. When you don’t, he continues. “You taught him what it felt like to love someone, whether it was romantic or a form of obsession. You taught him that it was okay to cry. That it was okay to want things, to need things.”

“I’m not going to forgive him, Joshua.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” He leans forward. “I’m asking you to see from his perspective why he said those things. I know that it’s no excuse. I know he should’ve just ignored you from the start if he knew he was gonna speak so horribly to you. But he didn’t, and that led to both of you getting hurt. I want you to just…Just try to understand a bit more about him, okay?”

You dig the nail of your thumb into the side of your index finger, ignoring the sting it sends through your nerves. 

“I just wanted to help him.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

“Why did he…Why did I let this happen?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He just…he isn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with.” You try to laugh but it comes out in a quiet sob. You raise your hand to your mouth, biting into your skin to keep yourself quiet, and Joshua moves to the chair next to you. You let him pull you into his arms, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and the other running up and down your back. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is why Jeonghan is so cruel. He never had anyone to truly comfort him. He never had someone to smother his doubts and worries, to give him a hug when he was struggling. You can’t help but wonder what he’d be like if he’d received that love. Would he have been kinder? Would he have loved you the way he repeatedly claimed to?

You don’t know. And, now, you don’t really want to.

~

“What did she say?” Jeonghan is pacing the span of his bedroom, biting the nail of his thumb until there’s practically nothing left to bite. Joshua sits in the middle of the older man’s bed, legs crossed and body leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Was she mad? Did she ask to see me? Did she yell?” A hundred questions are running through Jeonghan’s mind, and Joshua attempts to keep up with the ones that manage to slip out of his lips. 

“She wasn’t…mad, per se?” He’s questioning himself before he even begins. “She was more, like, sad. I think. She was sad and confused. Just like you! Man, you guys are perfect for each other!” He attempts a joke, but Jeonghan just scowls. 

“You’re not funny, Hong Jisoo.”

“I know.”

“What else did she say?”

“She…She was really set on the fact that you chose her, of all people, to use. But she also knew from the start why. She wanted to help you, at first. To help you break out of the shell you’d created around yourself. And then she let it go too far and, well, here we are.”

“So she doesn’t forgive me?” Jeonghan leans against his dresser and tips his head back with a sigh. Joshua watches him carefully, gnawing on his lip in thought. 

“Not yet, at least. I think you just… I think you need to put in the effort to fix things. I don’t think apologies are really gonna do anything anymore. Especially not with what happened last time you tried to fix things.” 

“You’re still not funny.” Jeonghan hisses. Joshua scoffs and sits up straight. 

“I wasn’t kidding. Han, you’re on a losing streak in terms of apologies. Every time you even try, you make things worse for yourself and for her. I want to help you, but if you keep fucking up then I can’t! I won’t sacrifice my friendship with her because you decided to be a fucking moron!”

Joshua’s voice echoes around the small bedroom, and Joshua throws his body back onto the mattress. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved in the situation. Knows he should’ve stayed away from you in the first place, no matter how drawn to you he was. But Jeonghan is his best friend. How can he leave his best friend to suffer like this while he prances around, flaunting the fact that he’s able to stay in Y/N’s life and Jeonghan isn’t?

That’s cruel. And no matter what Joshua thinks of his best friend at this moment, he won’t lower himself down to Jeonghan’s level. Not now, not ever. 

“So what’s the plan?” Jeonghan is laying by Joshua’s head, his legs dangling off the edge of the mattress.

“Plan?” Joshua echoes, his head turning to look at the older man as best he can. 

“You know, the plan to help me fix things?” Jeonghan frowns. “You do…have a plan…right?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. Yeah, I have a plan.”

~

You walk into your lecture hall the next day, and there’s a muffin and coffee in front of your seat. Just plain black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. Nothing special, except for the bright blue sticky note attached to the paper cup. Your first thought is that someone put it by the wrong spot, that it was for someone else that sits near you. 

You lift the note a little, trying to find any clues as to who this could be for. A name for the recipient, a name from the sender. Anything. Fortunately, you find both. Scrawled in messy handwriting is a note for you. 

It’s hard to ESPRESSO my feelings for you, sweetheart,

But MUFFIN compares to you <3

Enjoy the coffee and the muffin, 

I know you have a lot of classes today

I love you.

~ JH

Your second thought of the day is to tear up the note and throw away everything he left on your desk. Anger and confusion are beginning to boil inside you, but you know you can’t let it show. Not when he walks in just moments later with Joshua and Seungcheol in tow. There’s no girl hanging off his arm this time. In fact, for the first time since he’s met you, he gives a smile and a small wave. You don’t return the actions, just sink into your seat and lower your head so you can’t possibly lock eyes with him so you won’t have to interact with him.

Unfortunately, he sits down right next to you. He doesn’t say anything to you. He just sits down and, shockingly, takes out his laptop and a notebook. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye but look toward the front of the room just moments later. He’s comfortable. You can tell just by the way he smiles and lets himself lean back in his chair. He’s usually sitting up straight, eyes straight forward and lips drawn into a line. 

People are staring at the two of you. People are whispering, just quiet enough that you can’t hear what they’re saying about you. You imagine that they’re shocked, confused, and a bit upset that he chose you instead of them. If only they knew the extent of your relationship.

You wish that you could push him out of his chair, tell him to fuck off, and leave you again like you’d told him to only a few days prior.

But you can’t. Embarrassing the so-called king of the school would set you aside as a social outcast and you would likely be relentlessly harassed for the rest of your time here. 

Instead, you choose to push the coffee and muffin aside and focus on the lecture up front. You ignore Jeonghan, and how he examines your side profile. You ignore how your stomach growls and the smell of the muffin is growing stronger. You won’t cave. Not to him. Not anymore.

~

The next day, you walk into your first class and there’s another muffin. Joshua sits in the chair beside yours, and he looks up with a smile when you approach. 

“Someone left you something,” his tone is teasing while he pushes the wrapped treat toward you. You scoff and push it back toward him. 

“I don’t want it. You have it.”

“He doesn’t want me to have it,” Joshua argues and shows you the little sticky note on the coffee. “Look! Words cannot ESPRESSO how much you BEAN to me, sweetheart! Isn’t that so cute?” 

“I hate you. And I hate him too.” You drop your bag and slump forward. Joshua pushes both items in front of you one last time and rubs your back comfortingly. “I don’t understand him, Shua.”

“Eh, does anyone?” A sigh from you, but no response. You’re too tired to deal with this. Too tired to care that Joshua would absolutely be telling Jeonghan about his success. You take a sip of the coffee and your eyebrow arches. You’d never told Jeonghan your coffee order. 

“How the fuck did he figure out what my favorite coffee order was?” You shoot an accusing glance at Joshua who just rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t tell him anything. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he paid as much attention to you as you did him?” 

“No.” You say flatly. “He didn’t pay attention to me. He hated me, remember?” Joshua grimaces and you turn to the front of the room. 

~

The week continues like that. Jeonghan would leave a coffee, a stupid note, and a muffin at your seat during your first class. If he shared that class with you, he sat right next to you. He tried to make conversation once, his voice and hands shaking while he did so. He was so nervous to just say hi, and you were cold in the way you shot him down. He didn’t waver, however. He kept that quiet, relaxed confidence up. You were almost impressed by how persistent he was. 

Almost.

Friday night rolled around, and you were already on your way to the Sigma Tau frat to meet up with Joshua. You knew there would be a lot of people there, knew that too many students would be getting drunk off their asses before finals started on Monday. You weren’t going to exclude yourself. You knew you had friends to keep an eye on you, but you also knew how to pace yourself so you could have a good time but not put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

Still, though. You were nervous. Nervous that Jeonghan would corner you again and try to talk to you. You were nervous that you, in your soon-to-be inebriated state, would find it in you to forgive him for everything. 

“Just stick with me,” Joshua reassured you. “I won’t let him bother you too much.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t let him bother me at all,” you mutter and pull your skirt down slightly. It was still early May, so the lingering low temperatures of winter bit at your skin and raised goosebumps in its path. 

“You know that I won’t be able to stop him from approaching you. He always finds a way, baby.” Joshua squeezes your waist while he guides you through the crowd. Already you can spot Jeonghan laughing with the other guys in the frat, drinking some ungodly concoction Vernon had thrown into his cup. Seungcheol spotted you first and subtly shifted his body to hide you from his friend’s view. “I can, however, keep him from finding you for a little bit.”

“You’re an angel, Shua.” You smile at him, and he throws a wink at you. “So what has our friend Vernon mixed up tonight?” You lean over the counter and Joshua stands across from you. People bump into you while they stumble by, some people already plastered and others trying to help their plastered friends. 

“Something with a lot of tequila,” he points at one of the three large containers, “something with a lot of rum,” he points at the middle container, “and something with a little bit of every alcoholic drink we have. Just for fun.” He points at the final container

“Ooh, sounds…” you make a face and Joshua laughs.

“I know. But, you know Vernon, he likes experimenting.”

“I’ll bet.” You drum your fingers on the counter and point at the first container. “I’ll start with some of that…mixture?”

“Coming right up, babe.” Joshua grabs a cup for you and starts to get your drink. Both of you make a face at the odd red liquid that pours out, but your friend is quick to sniff it and take a small sip. “Good news, it isn’t poison!” 

You take the cup from his hand and take a sip as well. A grimace passes over your face almost immediately. 

“Bad news,” you clear your throat, “I’m gonna be absolutely off the walls from whatever he put in this.”

“Wasn’t that your goal?” Joshua comes up beside you again, that pretty smile of his making you blush a little bit. Under the purple lights, however, it’s nearly impossible to see the redness in your cheeks. 

“You ask a lot of questions, Shua.” 

“And yet you still give me the answers I want.” You shove his arm, but he hardly budges from his spot. He just smiles and laughs at your annoyed pout, and guides you back to where the crowd is growing thicker. Jeonghan sees you now, you know he does. His eyes are practically locked on you, his mouth practically hanging open. You see Seungcheol mouthing an apology from across the room, and you nod to acknowledge it. 

You figured he’d find you at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. You thought you would at least be tipsy. You hoped you would have been drunk. 

But no.

You’re stone-cold sober, and he’s staring at you with this longing look in his eyes. You look away first, and Joshua frowns. 

“He found you?”

“Yeah.”

“Surprised he didn’t immediately come over here and start kissing your feet and begging you for forgiveness.” You both watch a girl approach Jeonghan, and Joshua gasps loudly when he pushes the girl away. You can tell Jeonghan said something harsh to her, just based on the way she quickly runs back in the direction she came from to hide in her group of friends. 

“Jesus, that was cold,” you remark. Joshua hums. 

“I told you, he isn’t interested in anyone else but you.”

“Not this again, Shua.” You groan and let your head fall back. 

“I’m just saying—”

“Just stop! It isn’t…I won’t do this again!” Joshua stands his ground this time, staring down at you with stern eyes and crossed arms.

“I’m not saying that you need to forgive him immediately and start fucking him again.” You scowl.

“Then what do you want me to do, Shua?”

“I want you to just…start over? I guess? Just start over with him. Reintroduce yourselves, and forget your whole history together. Start as friends, or fucking date, or whatever works for you. Just…just don’t do this shit where you guys— and not just you, because this wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you to think I’m blaming you because I’m not— just don’t force us all to choose between you and him, because that would end up hurting more people than necessary. I don’t care if you talk and decide to be anything to each other, just don’t let this go any farther.”

~

The lights have become blinding, the music deafening. A headache is beginning to form, creating an ache behind your eyes. You lost sight of Joshua hours ago, although you don’t doubt he’s with the other boys in the frat. Odds are, he’s gotten himself drunk and forgotten all about his promise to not leave you alone. You don’t mind though, you’ve grown comfortable in your little corner of the room, out of sight and away from the eyes of the other partygoers. Your plans of getting drunk are long forgotten, now thinking too hard about what Joshua told you.

“Have you seen Jeonghan?” Mingyu stands in front of you, a drink in his hand and his teeth gnawing on his lip. 

“No, not since earlier. Why?” You look up at Mingyu, your lips twisted into a puzzled frown.

“He’s been missing for, like, an hour. Nobody’s seen him apparently. Figured I’d ask you since you’d been staring at him for three hours.” You scoff at the comment and cross your arms. 

“I wasn’t staring at him.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Mingyu nods as if he believes you, but you know good and well that he doesn’t, and he doesn’t really care either. “Anyway, last we heard is that he was drunk off his ass and trying to talk to you, I think. I dunno. Something about a mental breakdown?” 

Your throat began to close, but you forced yourself to speak again.

“I have no idea where he is, Mingyu, and I don’t plan on searching for him.” That’s a lie. You both know it just based on the way your eyes flick toward the back door and your teeth gnaw on the corner of your lip. A small, almost pitying smile crosses the tall frat boy’s lips. 

“Well, if you see him, tell him that we’re waiting for him to play pong.”

“Will do.” He tries to slip through the crowd, but his bulky frame bumps into several different guests, which causes him to spew out a variety of different apologies until he makes it to the dirty plastic table that had been set up on the other side of the room. 

You know you shouldn’t find him. Every instinct in you is screaming for you to just stay where you are, find Joshua, or just leave the house. But a small piece of you, something so minuscule you almost don’t feel it, is asking you to please find him. Make sure he’s okay. Don’t let him suffer on his own again as if you hadn’t been suffering on your own for months. Years, even. 

You stare down at the drink in your cup, the ice in it now melted to create a watered-down tequila mixture. You know you won’t drink it. Know that it won’t do anything to provide you with the courage you need to do this. 

~

The music is muffled now that you’re outside, but your ears are ringing from the sudden change in noise level. You’re shocked to see no one out here. Usually, there’s a bit of a crowd trying to escape the noise and have a quiet conversation. You’d think that more would be out here just to enjoy the weather after a brutally cold winter. 

But there’s no one. 

Probably ideal for the conversation you’re about to have.

You inhale quietly, staring at the oak tree that’s barely twenty feet from where you stand. The branches have begun to grow leaves, shielding anyone who might be under it. Shielding Jeonghan, who you know is tucked behind the trunk and isolating himself. That’s what the two of you would always do if you wanted to get away from the noise. One of you would sneak out of the house, out of the view of the guests, and tuck yourselves behind the tree. The other would join a few minutes after. It didn’t matter which of you wanted to leave, somehow both of you ended up under the tree at the end of every party, waiting for everyone to go home or go to bed.

“Jeonghan?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, but it’s enough to get his attention. You see his head lean to the side, almost laying completely on his shoulder. His dark strands of hair fall to one side of his head, a shine catching on them from the lights of the house. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Getting away from the party.” His voice isn’t slurred, which is a good sign. He’s probably had a few drinks but nothing to keep him from talking to you. “Too loud in there these days. They’re gonna go deaf.”

“They’ll be fine. Are you okay?” You don’t sit beside him. You don’t make any moves to be anywhere but five feet in front of him, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You wait for the discomfort of the situation to set in, but it doesn’t. 

Not yet, anyway.

“Peachy.” You can see a cup of something next to him, pressed between two large tree roots. “You?” He doesn’t look at you. Not in the eyes, anyway. He’s scanning your body from head to toe, likely trying to figure out if you’re actually with him. 

“Let’s get you back inside. The boys want to play pong and they need you in there.” You avoid the simple question. When you look at him again, he looks…sad. Broken, really. You stick your hand out for him to take, and he looks at it with furrowed eyebrows.

You stay like that for a few moments. He sits against the trunk of the tree, staring at your outstretched hand thoughtfully. You stand a few feet away from him, your arm beginning to ache and the air beginning to bite at your skin. 

“Remember the first thing I said to you?” He finally asks. You drop your hand and sigh. 

“You called me pathetic.”

“I called you weak.” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”

“Not a big one.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Do you know why I said that?” Your heart is beginning to ache. You know he’s going to tell you all the reasons he hated you as if you weren’t aware of them already. “Because I was jealous of you.” 

“You were jealous?” Your nose scrunches and you move closer to him, out of pure curiosity. He watches you take a seat next to him, flinches when your arms brush together. “Why?”

“Because you were everything I wasn’t.” 

“Right, because you weren’t free to feel things.” Your neck cracks when you turn to look at him. Jeonghan laughs and nods.

“I guess so, if you wanna make me sound like a robot.”

“You might as well be.”

“Don’t be rude.”

“I think I’ve earned this.” He goes quiet, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. If you took it a step further than you should have, and now he’s going to hate you and your whole friend group will be forced to pick sides, just like Joshua said would happen. 

“You think too much,” he’s looking at you now and when you lock eyes, he doesn’t look away. 

“Maybe.”

“I always kinda liked that about you. The way you think about everything. But sometimes you think too much, and you get lost down this rabbit hole that no one can pull you out of.”

“I mean if you put it like that…”

“Don’t go thinking on me now,” he nudges you and you smile. “Don’t wanna have a conversation with a brick wall.”

“Oh ha ha,” you pick at the skin around your thumbnail and lean your head against the bark of the tree. “Isn’t it weird how…even with everything that happened, you’re still the person I’m most comfortable with?” 

“What about Joshua?” Jeonghan sounds bitter, but you know he isn’t. He knows you would never like Joshua, at least not how you like him. 

“Nah, he doesn’t get me like you do.”

“Careful now, you almost sound like you love me.” still. You almost sound like you love me still. You know that’s what he wants to say, with the way he cuts himself off like he was punched in the gut. The way his eyes water just slightly, and when the light hits them just right it looks like they’re shining brighter than the stars above the two of you. 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a scandal?” Your voice is soft now, and neither of you laughs this time. There’s a sad cloud floating above you two, waiting to pour down rain and drench the two of you. 

“I really am sorry, sweetheart.” Your heart swells when he says that. Your throat closes up once more and you have to take a moment before you speak. “I didn’t mean anything that I said to you that day.”

“You did, though.” He opens his mouth to argue but you place your hand on his knee to stop him. “You did mean it, you just…didn’t exactly intend to say it. Yes, it hurt to hear it out loud for the first time. Yes, I hate you for saying it and confirming what I already knew. But…it isn’t necessarily your fault. I mean, it is, but also it isn’t. You can’t help that you were raised like that. You can’t help that you resented me for being able to feel what you wanted to. You didn’t…you didn’t receive the same love as I did when I was growing up, and that isn’t your fault. What is your fault is how…you didn’t tell me anything. I had to find out from people around us why you hated me so much. I had to find out from Joshua that…that you did love me, you just didn’t know how to show it or prove it.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry.” A tear slips from his eye and you smile when you wipe it away. Your hand lingers, and he presses his cheek into your palm. You feel him exhale a warm breath of air and his eyes shut. 

“I know you are. And I want to forgive you, Hannie, I do. It’s just…it’s going to take some time.”

“I know,” he place his hand over yours and squeezes lightly. “I know it will.” 

A comfortable silence washes over you, and you feel a cold breeze wash over your skin. Your body trembles from the cold and Jeonghan frowns at you.

“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

“To be fair, I thought I’d be inside the whole time and it gets very warm in there.” Jeonghan scoffs and starts to remove his jacket, despite your quiet protests. 

“You need to start bringing a sweatshirt or something to keep you warm. You know we come out here a lot, so why didn’t you think of this?” He scolds you, forcing you to slip your arms into his jacket while he does. It’s a few sizes too big for you and the sleeves go fast past your hands, but you don’t mind. It’s warm, and comforting, and honestly you might not return it to him. 

“I’m sorry.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he stiffens for a moment. “I’m sorry for not understanding.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Your lack of understanding is my fault, and mine alone. I didn’t…I just didn’t trust you enough, which I see was a mistake.” His hand rises to touch the back of your head, his fingers rubbing where your hair has been tied and relieving the ache that had begun to form. You feel him starting to relax against you, his shoulders sinking and his legs slipping down to lay flat across the grass. You hear a door open behind you, and a few laughs. On instinct, you start to pull away, but Jeonghan’s grip tightens, keeping you secured to him. 

You expect him to make a comment. You almost want him to. 

Instead he looks toward the sky, partially blocked by the low-hanging branches and smiles.

“The stars are pretty tonight, aren’t they?” You lift your head to look at him. He keeps his eyes facing forward, but the hand he has in your hair slips down to your shoulder and he draws you into him.

You smile before you respond.

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

If we can walk this path together again

I want to hold your hands and give you warmth

If I hold your cheeks with warmed hands

Will you smile again for me?

~

TAGLIST: @woofie-nctzen-fanarts-320 @dearlyjin @joenghaniee @mikachu-chu @listxn @youre-on-your-ownkid @ti--red @springdaybreaks @momoxxchewz @rum-gone-why @everyoneluvscheol @dr3aluv5 @shiningstar-byulxx @preets-kpop-world @fragmentof-indifference @stfuayu @fanfic24

[coldlovehotblood]

K queen could you please provide me with some izzy fic lmao 😭😭😭😭 so um i'm literally at the end of my uni semester and it's eating me out CAUSE I FEEL SO DUMB LIKE WHY TF AM I GETTING A DEGREE IF I CANT DO BASIC SHIT 💀💀💀💀💀💀 but i needed a super cute angst to fluff izzy fic where yn is going through this and she feels dumb and just bad about it all, and izzy helps her feeling better 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 literally handed 2 big projects today (i'm a programmer btw but that's irrelevant) and i got 3 tests next week AND I CANT BARELY THINK ANYMORE

Ok i'll shut up bye thank youuuuu

˗ˏˋ✩ˎˊ˗

SMARTY PANTS

The pressure of university is worse than you thought it’d be, swallowing you up before you realise what’s happening. Luckily, your boyfriend is willing to help you forget for a while.

w/c: 2,128

warnings: smut

a/n: haiii sorry for the wait! nah programming sounds like a headache to me you must have one of the biggest brains in all the land. wish i was that smart fr😔 anyway i hope this scratches the Izzy fluff itch and gives you a little boost. YOU’VE GOT THIS I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

GWORGGGG divider by @strangergraphics

You were burnt out. Badly.

Exhaustion wasn’t a strong enough word for it. You were so genuinely close to padlocking your apartment door and going into hibernation in an attempt to catch up on missed shuteye.

Every assignment felt colossal, and put another wall between you and the freedom university was supposed to give you once you moved away from home. You had wanted more space to breathe, more opportunities to explore the world and yourself, more time to spend with your boyfriend…

God, your boyfriend was so good about all of it. He knew when to give you space and when to fill that space. He knew it was eating you alive and kicking your ass. He never gave you grief for periods of silence. You honestly didn’t know how you deserved him.

This occasion was yet another display of his patience.

You were sitting on your bed, staring blankly at the wall, trying to will yourself to get up and do something productive. With assignments being at the forefront of your mind for the past week or two, everything else was left behind. Your room was in disarray, there were clothes to be washed, dishes to be done, the list went on and on. As the minutes ticked by, you got more frustrated with yourself and your inability to keep up with life. You couldn't tell if University was brutal or if you really were eternally a few steps behind.

It was frustrating.

That lump that had been sitting in the base of your throat for the whole day finally loosened up as a sob heaved its way out of you. Vision blurred with tears, you turned to lie on top of your bed covers, but you heard a knock down the hall.

It took an unbelievable amount of effort to haul yourself up from where you lay. You padded over and didn't bother to wipe your cheeks before opening the door. There stood Izzy in leather and dark wash denim, holding a bottle of Jack. The crappy, sparse, yellow light from the hall was dampened greatly by the grin he was sporting, but that quickly faded once he saw your face.

“Baby, are you ok?”

You really started to cry then. He came through the threshold at once and took you into his arms. That gorgeous woody scent you knew as his engulfed you. Wordlessly, he guided you back into your apartment and to the sofa, setting the bottle down in favour of pulling you on top and close.

You tucked your head into his shoulder, seeking more of his cologne as he soothed a hand down your spine, tracing light patterns with his fingertips as he went. You realised then that you could relax a bit and that you were able to shrug off the tight restraints of deadlines that had been digging into you like rough ropes tied too tight.

Your voice was croaky when you eventually thanked him after a few minutes of silence. He shook his head in response.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” you replied with a sniff.

One of his hands now pushed away some of the hair that had fallen over your face.

“I came ‘cause a while ago you told me today was the deadline for some pretty important things. I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

You moved to look up at him from where you lay, and he dipped his head to look back at you, that same grin from before returning.

“I even brought a friend,” he spoke with a giggle, looking over to where he’d set the liquor bottle down. It was brand new, the amber contents sitting just below the unbroken seal as it ought to be.

You sighed before dropping your head again.

“How did you remember? I know that you and Axl are busy right now.”

“I wrote it down on some paper and kept it in my jacket. Every time I went to grab my lighter, I felt it and remembered. Figured it was the only way I could’ve.”

You were so fond of him it was sickening.

“You’re really dumb.”

“In comparison to you, yeah, honestly. All that computer stuff they have you doing is unbelievable.”

You let yourself feel the vibrations of his voice rumble against your cheek as you took in his words. Following this path had been your dream. Tech had always been an area of interest and pursuing it in university looked like the best path for you. For months, you had scoured high and low, looking for a place that would best accommodate you and the life you dreamed of creating. If you were going to do it, you were making damn sure you’d do it right. With the tech industry in the beginnings of a boom, it really was the best time to start.

However, you severely underestimated the pressure of the workload. You understood what you were getting yourself into when you signed up. You had read the course details a million times over, but actually having those deadlines hanging over your head, actually having those tests back to back with no wiggle room or time for a breather— it was harsh. Much worse than you thought it would be.

On top of that, the content was difficult. You had to take your passion seriously now. That doesn't sound like a big deal until you experience it yourself. It’s so strange, and new information was thrown at you with every lecture. The knowledge being given was amazing, but memorising all of it, being tested on it, brought everything into a different ballpark entirely.

In short, you were finding the rigour of it all extremely hard to keep up with, and the idea of dropping out was starting to paw at you like a dog looking for treats.

“I question why I’m doing it.”

Izzy scoffed and shook his head once more. This time his chin grazed your crown as he did.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re doing it because it’s what you love.”

“It is, but is it worth my sanity? I mean, there is constantly so much going on I feel like I’m losing even the basics.”

He said your name softly as his hand came to your cheek, encouraging your head up to meet his eyes.

“They wouldn’t have let you in if they thought you weren’t capable of keeping up. You are good at what you do, great even. And with this kind of an education? You’ll become fucking insane.”

His words brought you back to earth a bit. What he was saying made sense, but it wasn’t enough to fully satisfy that itching feeling of being behind, the feeling of non-existent eyes drilling into your back everytime you thought about work.

He tapped your cheek with his index and ring finger.

“Hey, let that pretty head rest. Let those projects and stray homework’s be the past and be here with me in the now.”

In the low light of your living room, his silver nose ring glinted as he tilted his head. You wished you could follow his instruction, but doubt is a stubborn thing. Tears filled your lash line again and he made a face so concerned and full of care it brought them on faster.

“Don’t cry, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Frustration grew once again and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you.

Suddenly, Izzy’s face changed as he looked into your salt-soaked eyes.

“I know how I can help.”

It was your turn to tilt your head.

“Will you let me take care of you?”

“What—“

“Just trust me,” he whispered, smiling handsomely as he came closer. You could feel his breath tickle your face a little bit with the proximity.

You were sinking deeper into a pool of uncertainty by the second, and he offered a hand to pull you to the surface. How could you refuse?

“Please,” you breathed back before he pressed his lips to yours.

Kissing him was like blinking, it came naturally and you didn’t have to think about it. Your mouths moved in sync so well it was easy to get lost in it. He was soft against you, each brush of lips like waves melting into each other upon impact. Seamless.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped the two of you gently so that he was hovering above you. Carefully, Izzy brought one hand down your body as he kept the other propped beside your head on the armrest, slowly dragging it lower and lower as he continued to kiss you.

He then pulled away from your mouth as he sat up straighter, giving himself two hands to meet at the waistband of your bottoms.

“What you need, sweetheart, is a distraction. That is something I can most certainly give,” he spoke, wiggling his eyebrows and making you laugh. Fingers under the fabric, he hesitated.

“Is this ok? We don’t have to do anything, it’s just an idea.”

He was too good to you. So sweet it’d be no time at all before every one of your teeth would have to be capped with silver.

“I trust you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needed before pulling them all the way down, taking your panties along with the movement. He was careful but quick.

“You’re so gorgeous here,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of your exposed lower half.

You blushed bright as you wiped at your eyes, loathing the tight feeling that came to your cheeks once tear tracks dried. Izzy ever so gently encouraged you to open your legs wider with his hands, parting them to place himself in between.

He lowered himself then to your hip, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses, whispering praises as he crept closer and closer to where you needed him most. You shivered as arousal bloomed in your stomach. Your being sung under his touch.

He stole one more glance of you, eyes glittering with excitement. He looked ready to buzz out of his skin and squeal. Every time he did this, you were left in disbelief at how eager he could be. You couldn’t decide if it was you or him that got off more to things like this.

Finally, he closed the gap between him and you, and you sighed with contentment. Izzy licked a stripe over your core and pleasure coursed throughout your body. Hypnotised, you let him have his way.

He was too good at it, knowing just how and where to brush his tongue in order to drive you mad. You didn’t realise it, but his lapping really was making you blank.

You were relaxing.

He built you up steadily and at the brink of orgasm he left you hanging, stunning you out of the bubble he’d lulled you into. This continued a couple of times as he made sure your brain was left mush and static.

Once satisfied with your state, he let you reach that dizzying peak of pleasure and tipped you over the edge, ecstasy bursting you open and leaving a supernova in it’s wake for your boyfriend to appreciate; the fruit of his labour: a lax-bodied, simple-minded version of you.

You panted with him as he brought you to his chest once again. You couldn’t really say anything but his name at that point so you opted for silence and squeezing him tight.

“Told you I knew,” he said huskily into your ear, nipping your lobe playfully.

It took a second for the words to come out, but you did eventually reply, “okay smarty pants, we get it.”

He laughed, the sound ringing loud and bright through the room before moving an arm under your knees and standing up, princess carrying you through your apartment to the bedroom. As he went, he continued his teasing, insisting you call him ‘ the smartest motherfucker to ever walk the earth’ before he tucked you in and took his place behind you, curled up tight to your back.

Worn out and kept cozy by Izzy’s warmth, it wasn’t long before sleep took you. You’d decided university was a problem for future you, as you at the time was more occupied thinking of all the ways they could prove they are the smarter motherfucker.

You were terribly in love, and, in that moment, that was what trumped everything else.

Also, you had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s waiting for you. That’s an immediate plus.

[lej222]

Hlw! Would love to see your analysis on if jisu likes miae romantically or not. Hope u'll do that sometimes😊don't feel pressured tho it’s just my wish❤️

Sorry for the late reply, but here is a long post about my thoughts about Jisu's character arc, including spoilers from episode 147 (these are just my ramblings, my word is not gospel :D)

Does Jisu like Miae romantically?

Now, this is a hard question to answer. And I will try my best to break down what we know about him so far.

We only have two fragments of the time when Jisu and Miae were classmates. The first one is when Miae called out Jisu's bullies and she asked him the same question Jisu repeated years later to her (important!) about scolding the bullies. The other memory was Jisu's transfer to another elementary school. He was forced to write a letter and mentions how he liked Miae the most and the whole class, including Miae, cry their heart out. Jisu remembers how hard Miae sobbed and Miae can also recall someone telling her they liked her, but doesn't remember the boy's face or name.

Years later after moving around, Jisu ends up in the same school with her again in the spring semester in 1998. He is surprised, even more so when they become classmates in the following year, but doesn't care enough to interact with Miae. Coincidences keep happening - her pencil landing at his chair, they get sent out to the corridor, they become folk dance partners, he finds her name tag and uses it to avoid punishment, they get detention the same time. And Jisu still doesn't care about the whole situation, not until their actual detention week starts when he initiates conversation for the first time. This is when Jisu concludes their random encounters are fun and Miae is an interesting person. (Edit:: I'm rereading the story, and actually the turning point of their relationship is when Miae tries to save him from the teacher when they ruined the plant. It's possible Jisu doesn't let anyone close to himself and was intentionally petty towards Miae in the beginning until she decided to help him. We see that Jisu is greatly speechless in that scene and decides to flip over the plant. My best guess is that he might have realized Miae is still the same person as she was back then and she's still brave so Jisu becomes active for the first time for her and takes the blame. It is probably also the moment he concludes being around Miae is fun)

Based on these alone, I'm inclined to believe that even if Jisu loves her romantically at this point of the story, he's not aware of it. For him, being around Miae is exciting because she is fun. She doesn't remember him at all, but she's still the same person as she was years ago in elementary school so Jisu feels comfortable around her which didn't go unnoticed by their homeroom teacher or Jisu's mother. Miae probably doesn't understand why people keep emphasizing his unique personality and connect the dots, but we readers can easily assume Jisu was bullied because of his difference. And it is something he shares with Miae so he might feel like she understands him, or rather, she doesn't treat him differently because of it. It's a situation that can easily bloom into love with time, even if he's not there yet.

But why is Jisu is important in this story?

One thing I always see people complaining about is Jisu's plot relevance. However, it is a much more complex narrative choice than just a simple love triangle.

I have said this before, but memories and fate are intertwined in this story. There are just too many clues that support this. Miae doesn't remember Cheol at the beginning of the story, she even has trouble recalling his name. As the plot progresses and we see more of her memories, fate keeps throwing them together and they develop a friendship that turns into romantic love. In fact, it's a recurring point in the story that Miae keeps forgetting important things. Her dreams, things she must do, Jisu's entire presence in the past.

Which takes me to my next point, the unidentified higher power in the story. It's been always present, at first only giving small signs of its existence in the form of phone calls or changing the weather. Let's remember that lots of times Miae and Cheol had a moment it started raining (Miae's dream about Cheol, when he helped changing the light bulb, when they wanted to take a photo together). However, the unknown presence's voice gets more and more active as thes tory goes on. Not only it starts interacting with Miae in her dreams, she can also hear it in certain situations and wonders where it came from. In fact, when she is talking to Cheol's shoe in one of the very first chapters, she has a weird feeling for a second and we get a close up on the shoe. This supernatural (?) power has always been involved with Miae, but it starts to be more aggressive.

Not only it tells Miae that she's too late and it tried to warn her, in the newest chapter it floods every scene with car ads that are about changing one's car. So the mysterious entity clearly tries to intervene, giving chance encounters to Miae and Jisu while preventing Miae and Cheol's relationship (like how they cannot have a photo together).

Okay, so what does it mean?

It is something I obviously cannot answer as I'm not the writer.

BUT let's not forget that someone like Jisu in this story, who was shown to have exceptional cognitive skills (like knowing every person's name whom he's ever met, being first in the school and likely is on the spectrum), also has excellent memory. And what did I say about memories and fate? That they are seemingly intertwined! Jisu is writing his own fate, he appeared later in the story because he chose to not get involved until that point! He is the character who is aware of everything in the past and present. While Miae has trouble with her memories, and what do we see? Fate aggressively trying to steer her.

At the end of the day, we have two routes that are possible:

Miae is fated to be with Jisu, fate/the stone deity/the universe knows it and tries to warn Miae her time with Cheol is short so she shouldn't have any regrets. In this case, the story is about how Cheol and Miae helped each other in a certain period of their lives, but had different fates set in stone.

Miae was fated to be with Jisu, and the higher power knows it, but Miae will change her own fate to be with Cheol instead. In this case, in the remaining chapters we will see her fighting against her own destiny and win in the end.

At this point, I feel like I have to mention I've studied philosophy for quite a few years, and I highly doubt we can get a satisfactory explanation of any of these possibilities. But rather, it will be a simple:

even though we were not fated together, I cherished our time together

or love overcomes destiny itself

Other interesting idea

This is just for fun, but the comic Miae reads is a clear symbol of her relationship with Cheol. They have almost every cliche in the book (with sometimes a little twist) like troubled boy meeting childhood friend, becoming neighbours with their windows facing each other, accidentally seeing the other's body, falling on each other first kiss, etc. This is your typical 90s shoujo manga which makes sense because the story takes place in the 90s.

On the other hand, we have the chaotic meetings of Jisu and Miae who bond over trash, don't get the accidental kiss trope, etc. And whether it's meant to illustrate that they will only remain friends or it's meant to be a contrast to Miae and Cheol's comic book romance, I don't know. Depends on the ending the author wants to convey. I would be fine with either possibilities as long as Jisu won't be used as a plot device.

Plus, Miae&Jisu and Cheol&Miae parallel each other a lot. Just coming from the latest chapters, Miae has interacted with Jisu's mom, but not really Cheol's parents. Cheol has interacted with Miae's parents. Miae is bothered by Jisu. Cheol was bothered by her. Cheol saying the same thing Miae said to Jisu. These are all definitely intentional.

As usual, please don't take my words seriously, this is just all for fun.

Edit: there's one other interesting thing to consider:

Jisu is aware of the coincidences and thinks they are fun. He's been saying this for a while. Which means if there's indeed a higher power in the story, Jisu is accepting of fate.

Miae, on the other hand, willfully rejects her own fate. Let's say Miae and Cheol's meeting was bound to happen - it was also their destiny. She acknowledged those coincidences and even wondered how strange they were. So the higher power was content. But what if, according to their fate, their time together is indeed short? Because Miae rejects her coincidental meetings with Jisu, saying how she hopes she won't meet him again, only for the higher power to be more aggressive and take on an active voice. In the last chapter, she even kicked the flyer away about changing one's car, only for her to end up with a bubble gum in her hair so she was forced to get a haircut from Jisu's mother. Jisu's question last chapter is more than just him asking to play together - it's a chance for Miae to go into the direction the higher power wants her to be.

The real questions:

Is fate something one can overcome? Are certain things bound to happen and we can only decide how to deal with them emotionally? Is the narrator/higher power omnipotent and omniscient? Because if it is, can Miae still decide what's the best for her? These are the truly complicated questions that we cannot answer because there are no answers. So I'm excited to see what Soonkki will come up as the resolution.

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

hi!! do you have any favorite hcs for each of the gang members?

I have a few headcannons! If anyone wants to hear more about these I’d love to elaborate!

TW for child abuse in Steve and Johnny’s parts, and thoughts of suicide in Johnny’s first headcannon

ℙ𝕠𝕟𝕪𝕓𝕠𝕪 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

My guy is honestly lacking in friends at school. Most of the gang either dropped out a long time ago or are in a completely different grade. He gets along with people on the track team and stuff but most of them kinda just see him as ‘cool enough’ and not really a friend

One time one of the guys from the team held a party and nobody told him about it. When he found out he tried to act like it didn’t matter to him but it still stung. He didn’t even want to go, it was just the idea that nobody bothered to invite him

He’d be that one kid in college that didn’t have a lot of freedom during high school and just goes absolutely crazy. It takes him a semester to learn how to use his free will responsibly. I actually have a lot of Ponyboy college headcanons if anyone would be interested in those.

When he learns to drive he’s actually a pretty good driver, and people trust him to take them places. The only problem is that he seems to be a magnet for terrible drivers. Like he gets on the road and suddenly nobody around him remembers wtf a turn signal is.

He definitely curses out people when he’s driving. Darry has straight up given up on trying to correct his language behind the wheel

𝕊𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕡 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

I’ve mentioned this one before, but he cannot STAND people being angry with him. Like he will just agree with whatever the gang asks to keep peace. It’s a lot of the reason why he hates being pulled into arguments, because he can’t avoid upsetting someone.

Sometimes when Darry and Ponyboy are going at it he’ll just straight up leave without being noticed. He honestly started pushing how much he could get away with it until he eventually did get caught after he was still gone at 4am. Darry felt too guilty to even be able to lecture him.

Because of his aversion to conflict him and Darry hardly ever argue, but when they do it’s UGLY. It’s like a whole world war breaking out in the living room. It’ll almost always end with Soda sobbing and Darry usually just has to like, leave for a while. One time they didn’t talk for three days. People don’t even try to get between them because it always makes things worse. In the end they always manage to talk it out though, sometimes it just takes a while.

Less angsty one, Soda makes people go on walks with him in the middle of the night. Usually it’s Steve, but he’ll take Ponyboy if there’s no school the next day. One time he even made Dally come with him by threatening to go by himself if he didn’t come lol. As much as everyone complains about it, they never tell him no.

In school he had detention like every single day. All his teachers absolutely despised him and he would’ve had to redo his junior year if he hadn’t dropped out.

𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

During high school he’d get really pissed when his Soc friends beat up Greasers. He actually got a couple of them to stop completely, but others just learned to do it without getting caught. They all knew better than to mess with the gang, though,

Speaking of high school, he just straight up wasn’t welcome into most of his friend’s homes. Only Paul’s parents actually liked him, and only like two other people’s parents even pretended to like him.

Darry waited until after his parents funeral to cry so that his brother wouldn’t see him. The priest came and sat with him for a little bit while he just sobbed hysterically.

Sometimes he sits by their graves and asks for advice. He doesn’t get any, obviously, but he always leaves with his mind a little more clear than it was before.

𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟𝕟𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕕𝕖

When the Socs jumped him, he honestly thought he was going to die. That scared him, but that scared him even more was the fact that he wasn’t that upset about it. It wasn’t until the gang showed up that he realized how much he really didn’t want to die now, but in the moment it almost felt like a nice release.

For a couple weeks after the Curtis parents died, he’d come over every day and just do chores and cook. He didn’t feel like it was a lot, but to Darry who had to do a million things at once while barely being able to get out of bed it meant so much.

Sometimes he’ll sit by the train tracks, and whenever a train rolls by he’ll think about jumping on it and just running away from everything. But he can’t stand the idea of leaving Ponyboy and Dally, so he doesn’t.

Him and Steve don’t talk much, but they have the common ground of coming from shitty home lives. Sometimes they’ll just come to eachother to get an injury taken care of or just to breathe for a minute, and then they’ll just never mention it again.

𝔻𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕟

Tulsa was supposed to just be a temporary stop for him until he met Johnny. Then he decided staying a few weeks wouldn’t hurt. Sometimes he still tells himself he’ll leave eventually, but he knows that’ll never happen.

Before the Curtis parents died part of him looked up to Darry and the way he took care of the gang. That went away after the Curtis parents died and everything started falling apart, but for a while he saw Darry as what he used to want to be.

Him and Tim Shepard have an unspoken agreement that one can piss the other off when they want a fight. At this point it’s basically a challenge to see who can make the other angrier. Dallas won when sold Angela drugs for a party.

Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda will constantly be dragging him to incredibly sketchy parties. They claim it’s for protection but really they just wanna hang out and they know he can’t say no if he’s worried about them getting murdered in a back alley.

𝕋𝕨𝕠-𝔹𝕚𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨𝕤

He met Darry when they were in elementary school, and they’re best friends. He’s also been a designated babysitter for as long as he could remember. Him and Darry don’t hang out a ton anymore, but they’re still the first person eachother go to when they need help.

Idk if yall have seen that video where they’re making a drink without knowing what everyone else put into it, and everyone is putting in mixers cause they don’t trust Ali. And then at the end Ali shows up and pours in like half a bottle of ever clear. Ali is Two-Bit.

Him and his sister are insanely close. They’re constantly having tea parties and gossip sessions. He made Soda teach him how to do hair just so that he could do hers.

𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖

One of the most loyal motherfuckers you’ll ever meet. He doesn’t actually like a lot of people, but he will literally kill for the people he does.

Evie isn’t allowed in the Curtis house anymore, not because they don’t like her, but everyone just got sick of watching Steve and her make out. She’s unofficially banned from the DX for the same reason. (Something Steve found very unfair because Soda and Sandy were just as bad the second Darry was gone)

His dad used to be really violent when he was younger, but as he got older he also got stronger and his dad got weaker. Things aren’t bad anymore because his dad knows that if Steve gets scared enough then he WILL kill him.

Absolutely loves speeding down the road in the middle of the night. He’ll drag Soda and Evie on VERY illegal joy rides. Tbh even when he’s not breaking road laws for fun he still drives like an absolute maniac.