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23victoria · 4 months ago

Text

slam!

pairings: f1 grid x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cussing, sexual innuendos, manipulation ig, lying in a way, it’s a prank, fluff

authors note: first official fic since my writing slump! i hope it’s okay! and im so so sorry if it’s ass lol, also you can see where i had no inspiration vs. where i did…please ignore that 😭, any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

want to be apart of my taglist?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

Charles

The drive to the mall was filled with easy conversation and laughter. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the city as you and Charles made your way through the bustling streets. Charles had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on your thigh, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you.

You had planned this trip to Sephora for weeks now, eager to replenish your makeup supplies and maybe splurge on some new products. Charles had tagged along, promising to help you pick out new shades and scents, even though you knew he was more excited about the ice cream shop next door.

As you pulled into the parking lot, you felt a mischievous idea brewing in your mind. You wanted to test Charles' patience and see how he would react to a sudden, nonsensical argument. You knew it was silly, but something about the idea made you giggle internally.

Charles parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he was about to open his door, you decided to strike.

"Why do you always do that?" you snapped, turning to him with an exaggerated huff.

Charles froze, his hand still on the door handle. "Do what?" he asked, clearly puzzled by your sudden change in tone.

"You know what you did," you said, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Charles blinked, completely taken aback. "I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, Y/N. Can you please explain?"

You let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Every single time we go somewhere, you always do this! It's like you don't even care!"

Charles' brow furrowed, confusion written all over his face. "What did I do? I parked the car! What's wrong with that?"

"Never mind," you said, shaking your head and opening your door. "Just forget it, Charles. I'm going to Sephora."

Before he could respond, you slammed the car door shut with a loud bang, making sure to give it an extra push for emphasis. You could see his bewildered expression through the window as you stormed off toward the mall entrance.

Charles sat in the car for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. His initial confusion slowly turned into a mix of frustration and concern. Had he really done something to upset you? He replayed the last few minutes in his mind, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

With a deep sigh, he got out of the car and locked it, jogging slightly to catch up with you. He found you standing in front of Sephora, arms still crossed and a pout on your lips.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice a mix of irritation and worry. "Can we please talk about this?"

You turned to him, your expression softening just a fraction. "What's there to talk about, Charles? You always do this."

"Do what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. "I really don't understand."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You always park too close to the other cars. It makes it hard for me to get out."

Charles' eyes widened in realization, and he let out a relieved laugh. "That's what this is about? Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about that. I'll be more careful next time, I promise."

You felt a pang of guilt for making him worry, but the sight of his relieved smile made it worth it. You uncrossed your arms and took a step closer to him.

"Okay, fine," you said, your voice softening. "I forgive you. But you better not do it again."

Charles reached out and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I promise, I won't," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now, let's go get your makeup."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "And ice cream?"

"And ice cream," he agreed, pulling back to look at you with a grin. "Anything for you."

"Charles," you said, lifting your head up from his chest. "I have to confess something."

Charles looked at you with curiosity. "What is it, love?"

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of guilt and amusement. "I wasn’t really mad at you... it was a joke. I wanted to see how you'd react."

Charles blinked in surprise, then let out a chuckle. "You little troublemaker," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"I'm sorry," you said, standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I spoil you with whatever you want from the ice cream shop?"

Charles grinned, his eyes lighting up. "I think I can forgive you for that. As long as I get to pick the flavors."

"Deal," you said, smiling up at him. "And I'll throw in a foot massage later, too."

"Now you're talking," Charles said, giving you a playful squeeze. "Just don't make a habit of these fake arguments, alright?"

"I promise," you said, kissing him again. "No more fake arguments. Just lots of love and ice cream."

Charles laughed, pulling you close. "That's all I need."

Lewis

The sun was shining brightly as you and Lewis drove to your favorite ice cream shop. The plan was to enjoy a treat and then stroll through the nearby park. Lewis had been looking forward to this all week, a rare weekend off from the rigorous F1 schedule.

As you approached the shop, an idea formed in your mind. You decided to playfully test Lewis with a fake argument, curious to see his reaction.

Lewis parked the car smoothly, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for the door handle, you pounced.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Lewis turned to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Do what, babe?"

"Every time we go somewhere, you always find a way to make it about you," you said, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

Lewis looked genuinely puzzled. "What are you talking about, Y/N? We're getting ice cream. How is this about me?"

You sighed dramatically. "You always pick the spot to park without asking me if it's okay. It's like you don't even care about my opinion."

Lewis blinked, trying to process your sudden outburst. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't realize that bothered you. I just thought it was a good spot."

"Never mind," you said, shaking your head and opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You got out of the car and slammed the door behind you, glancing back to see Lewis sitting in stunned silence. You felt a pang of guilt but continued walking toward the ice cream shop.

Lewis quickly recovered and followed you inside, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. He caught up to you as you reached the counter.

"Y/N, wait," he said softly, touching your arm. "I'm really sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to."

You turned to him, your annoyance melting away at the sight of his sincere eyes. "It's just… sometimes I feel like you don't consider my opinions."

Lewis nodded, his face serious. "I understand. I promise I'll be more mindful in the future. I never want you to feel like I don't care."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Okay, I forgive you. Now, let's get some ice cream."

Lewis grinned, pulling you into a quick hug. "Thank you. And I'll let you pick the spot next time."

As you ordered your ice cream and found a cozy spot to sit, you couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for starting the argument. But Lewis' genuine concern and quick apology made you appreciate him even more.

After a few bites of your ice cream, you decided it was time to come clean. "Lewis," you began, looking up at him with a sheepish smile.

"Yes, love?" he replied, his eyes filled with curiosity.

"I have a confession to make," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "That argument just now… it was a joke. I was bored and I just wanted to see how you'd react."

Lewis stared at you for a moment, then burst into laughter. "You really had me there, Y/N! I was so worried I did something wrong."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I get you that perfume you wanted from Dior?”

Lewis' eyes sparkled with amusement and affection. "You don't have to spoil me, love. But I'll take you up on that offer. And maybe a massage later?"

"Absolutely," you said, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Anything for you."

Max

The drive to the mall was filled with excitement. Max had promised to help you pick out a new pair of sneakers, and you were looking forward to spending the day together. As you approached the mall, you decided to prank Max. Max parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. As he reached for his phone to check the time, you decided to that’s was your “issue”.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Max looked up at you, clearly puzzled. "Do what?"

"You always check your phone right when we arrive somewhere," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you're more interested in your phone than spending time with me."

Max blinked, taken aback. "I was just checking the time, Y/N. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It feels like you're always distracted," you continued, pretending to be upset. "Like I have to compete for your attention."

Max's expression softened with concern. "I'm sorry if it feels that way. I promise I'm here with you, 100%. I just wanted to make sure we weren't late."

"Never mind," you said, opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You slammed the car door behind you and walked toward the mall entrance, leaving Max sitting there, clearly confused and worried. You glanced back to see him frowning, running a hand through his hair.

Max quickly got out of the car and caught up with you. "Y/N, wait. Did I really do something wrong?"

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's just frustrating when it feels like I'm not your priority."

Max sighed deeply, his eyes full of regret. "I'm so sorry. I'll make sure to put my phone away and focus on us. I never want you to feel like you're second to anything."

You felt a wave of guilt but maintained your act. "Okay, fine. Just don't let it happen again."

Max nodded earnestly. "I promise. Let's go find those sneakers."

As you both wandered through the mall, Max was extra attentive, making sure to engage in conversation and keep his phone tucked away. You started to feel bad for starting the fake argument but were also touched by his efforts.

As soon as you neared the sneaker store, you decided it was time to come clean. "Max," you said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes full of concern.

"I need to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I was just messing with you earlier, I was never mad at you for checking your phone. I just wanted to prank you and see how you'd react."

Max stared at you for a moment before chuckling softly. "I was so worried I did something to upset you. You really had me there, baby."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I buy you anything you want from the next store?"

Max's eyes lit up with amusement. "You don't have to, but I won't say no to that offer."

"And I'll bake you your favorite cookies later," you added, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Anything to make it up to you."

Max grinned, pulling you into a hug. "Sounds like a perfect evening to me baby."

Lando

The drive to the electronics store was filled with excitement. Lando had been talking about getting a pc setup and you were looking forward to helping him pick one out. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to play a little prank on Lando.

Lando parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he was about to step out, you struck.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Lando turned to you, genuinely confused. "Do what?"

"You always take forever to decide on things," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you can't make up your mind about anything."

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. "I just like to weigh my options. What's wrong with that?"

"It feels like you're wasting time," you said, pretending to be annoyed. "Like you don't care about getting things done quickly."

Lando's expression shifted from confusion to concern. "I'm sorry if it bothers you. I just want to make sure we make the right choice."

"Never mind," you said, opening your door. "I'm going inside."

You slammed the car door behind you and walked toward the store, leaving Lando sitting there, clearly puzzled and a bit hurt. You glanced back to see him frowning, trying to figure out what just happened.

Lando quickly got out of the car and caught up with you. "Y/N, wait, what are you so mad? I don’t understand. Did I really do something wrong?"

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. "It's just frustrating when it feels like you can't make a decision."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't realize it was an issue. I'll try to be quicker next time, I promise."

You felt a pang of guilt but maintained your act. "Okay, fine. Just don't let it happen again."

Lando nodded earnestly. "I promise. Let's go."

As you both wandered through the store, you decided it was time to come clean. "Lando," you said, looking at him with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes full of concern.

"I need to tell you something," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I’m not mad that you take time to weigh out your options. It’s one of the things I love about you! I was just bored and decided to play a prank on you."

Lando stared at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Y/N….you had me so worried. I was like “What the fuck?! Why is she mad?!’ I was so worried I did something to upset you, I was about to take you to Marc Jacobs to get you that purse and perfume you wanted."

"I'm sorry," you said, reaching out to hold his hand. "I didn't mean to mess with your feelings. To make it up to you, how about I buy you with anything you want from a store of your choosing?"

Lando's eyes lit up with amusement. "You don't have to, but I won't say no to that offer."

"And I'll give you a special massage later," you added, leaning in to kiss him softly on his neck.

Lando grinned, pulling you into a hug. "How about we go home now for that massage hmm."

"Nope, we have to get our things first! And then we can go home." you said, smiling at him and winking.

Carlos

The drive to the new restaurant you both had been eager to try was filled with excitement. Carlos had been talking about the place for weeks, and you were looking forward to a nice dinner together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test Carlos's patience with a fake argument.

Carlos parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his wallet, you struck.

"Why do you always do that?" you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Carlos turned to you, genuinely puzzled. "Do what?"

"You always insist on paying for everything," you said, crossing your arms. "It's like you don't think I can take care of myself."

Carlos blinked, clearly taken aback. "I just want to treat you. What's wrong with that?"

"It feels like you're undermining my independence," you continued, pretending to be upset. "Like you don't think I can contribute."

Carlos's expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. "Y/N, this is ridiculous. I'm just trying to help."

You opened your mouth to continue, but Carlos cut you off. He leaned over, his hand gripping your neck gently but firmly, pulling you close. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of authority and affection.

"I don't want to hear that nonsense," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I pay for everything and will always pay for everything. You're my girl, and I love to spoil you and buy you whatever you want. Complain all you want, but nothing is changing. Anything that has a price on it, I buy it. Not you. End of discussion."

Before you could respond, Carlos pressed his lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he released your neck and stepped out of the car, leaving you stunned. A moment later, he came around to your side, opened the door, and helped you out, his hand gently guiding you.

You were still silent as you walked towards the restaurant, your mind racing from the intensity of the moment. Finally, you found your voice. "That was hot... really, really hot…and sexy. I think…I wet myself a little bit."

Carlos laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Good to know," he whispered in your ear, his hand giving your ass a playful slap. "Just wait until later, baby. I'll show you more of what you like."

Oscar

The drive to the new amusement park was filled with excitement. Oscar had been talking about going on the latest roller coasters for weeks, and you were looking forward to a fun-filled day together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to play a little prank on Oscar to see how he would react.

Oscar parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his backpack, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Oscar looked up at you, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“You always decide which rides we go on first,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I can pick something fun.”

Oscar blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just thought you liked the same rides as me. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t trust my choices,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like my voice doesn't matter.”

Oscar’s expression shifted from confusion to concern. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring your feelings baby.”

“Well, it does,” you said, opening your door. “Maybe you should think about that.”

Oscar quickly got out of the car and came around to your side, gently grabbing your arm to stop you. “Y/N, wait. I really didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk about this?”

You turned to him, trying to keep a straight face but starting to feel bad about the prank. “Oscar, it’s just frustrating when it feels like you don’t consider my choices.”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I had no idea you felt this way. From now on, we’ll make all the decisions together. I promise.”

You couldn’t keep up the act any longer and burst into laughter. “Oscar, I’m so sorry baby. It was just a prank. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

Oscar stared at you for a moment before chuckling softly. “You really had me there, Y/N. I was so scared that I really messed up.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, reaching out to hold his hand. “I didn’t mean to mess with your feelings. I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

Oscar grinned, pulling you into a hug. “Well, you got me good. But next time, maybe pick a less heart-stopping prank, okay?”

You laughed, feeling relieved that he wasn’t mad. “Deal. Now, let’s go enjoy the carnival?”

Oscar nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Absolutely. And you can choose the first ride.”

“We are definitely doing the Kingda Ka roller coaster first.” you said with a smile on your face.

As you walked towards the entrance of the amusement park, you knew the day was going to be filled with laughter, thrills, and unforgettable moments.

Sebastian

The drive to the new bookstore was filled with excitement. Sebastian had been talking about a new release he was eager to get his hands on, and you were looking forward to spending some quiet time browsing the shelves together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test his patience with a fake argument.

Seb parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his reusable shopping bag, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Seb looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. “Do what?”

“You always insist on carrying everything,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I’m strong enough to help.”

Seb blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just want to make it easier for you. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t think I can handle it,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like you don’t trust me to carry my weight.”

Seb’s expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. “Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to help.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but Seb interrupted you. “Enough, baby. Arguing about this is pointless. I’m going to carry the bags because I want to. And I like taking care of you. Deal with it.”

Before you could respond, Sebastian grabbed your hair gently but firmly and pulled you into a rough kiss. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that made your heart race. When he finally pulled back, he looked into your eyes with a mixture of authority and affection.

“Understand?” he asked softly.

You nodded, still a bit breathless. “Yes, sir.”

Sebastian smiled and released his hold on your hair, his eyes softening. “Good. Now, let’s go find that book.”

Jenson

The drive to the local farmer’s market was filled with anticipation. Jenson had been excited to pick out fresh ingredients for dinner, and you were looking forward to spending a relaxing afternoon together. As you pulled into the parking lot, you decided to test his patience with a fake argument.

Jenson parked the car, and you both unbuckled your seat belts. Just as he reached for his shopping list, you struck.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked, your tone sharp and accusing.

Jenson looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. “Do what?”

“You always decide what we’re having for dinner and pick out all the ingredients,” you said, crossing your arms. “It’s like you don’t think I can handle it or make a decision.”

Jenson blinked, clearly taken aback. “I just want to make sure we have a great meal. What’s wrong with that?”

“It feels like you don’t trust my cooking skills,” you continued, pretending to be upset. “Like my preferences don’t matter.”

Jenson’s expression shifted from confusion to mild annoyance. “Y/N, this is ridiculous. I’m just trying to make sure tonight’s meal is special.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but Jenson interrupted you. He leaned over, his hand gripping your neck gently but firmly, pulling you close. His eyes bore into yours with a mix of authority and affection.

“I don’t want to hear that nonsense,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I pick the ingredients and plan the meals because I enjoy doing it for us. Plus, this argument is stupid because you cooked dinner for us two days ago.”

Before you could respond, Jenson pressed his lips against yours in a rough, passionate kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled back, he released your neck and stepped out of the car, leaving you stunned. A moment later, he came around to your side, opened the door, and helped you out, his hand gently guiding you.

As you walked toward the market, you found your voice. “I didn’t expect that reaction. It lowkey turned me on.”

Jenson turned to you with a smirk on his face, “Lowkey?”

“Okay, yes that definitely turned me on.” you said, turning away shyly.

Jenson chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, I guess I really know how to handle you then.”

You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “It was just a prank, but if that’s how you’re going to react, I definitely have to pull some more.”

Jenson laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, you don’t need to, baby. You get me like this just by being yourself.”

You grinned, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Are you sure we need to cook dinner? I’m sure we can just go home now and do something very, very important first. We can order some takeout after.”

Jenson smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. “As much as I would love that, we are cooking this meal. But after we’re done, we will definitely do that something.”

He winked at you, making your heart race with anticipation.

taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @demyackerman @oledoledoffen @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206 @revolutionsingingintherain

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withonly-sweetheart · 2 months ago

Text

Fortune's Cookies

They aren't very sweet, especially when you're fooled into taking the first bite.

a/n: gosh there's literally so much rookie leon art going around and the fever got to me, hope you like my twist on this classic trope! honestly everyone listed below contributed to this with their rookie leon pieces, seriously i stared at them while writing it helps seriously.

@chesue00 - you KNOW it.

@faintfill - MY SOURCE OF ROOKIE LEON SKETCHES NO KIDDING

@uhlillie - i hope you know which one im talking about girl... DAMN

@bunnivievve - FOODDDDDDD just like i said rookie leon is served

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: cavity fluff i hope i needed to brush my teeth after writing this (probably because of all the panda express fortune cookies i ate while typing), angst bc duh and i think thats it?

wc: 7k

“Your voice will bring a smile today.”

That’s what greets you, printed in those horrible skinny red letters, paper curled in your fingers. The styrofoam boxes are dotted with grains of undercooked rice and steamed vegetables, a treat you knew you deserved after such a long day.

And this is what fate tells you. Good thing you’ve never believed in superstition. You crumple the paper and toss it onto the tray and scoff.

Like you’ll take advice from a cookie.

But as the number of people in the store starts to dwindle, and the night shift employees trudge in through the back door, you wind up with your eyes glued to the message, wondering what kind of voice it referred to.

It’s been a long time since your voice has brought anyone joy, hasn’t it? Your job mostly consists of reminding multiple colleagues of their deadlines, only to be promptly ignored. Your existence only comes back to their minds two minutes before their reports are due, when they forward a hastily written piece that you don’t bother to read.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” A hand waves dangerously close to your face, brushing your nose, and the contact is enough to startle you back, glaring up at the offender. Even with the harsh swinging lights stinging your eyes, you can see warm blue eyes and sunny hair.

It feels as if the sky has descended to meet you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter back in response, clearing your throat, waving your tied words away. “All good here.”

He shifts away from you, maybe mistaking your inward gesture as shooing him away. You think of saying something about him, about assuring him, but you wonder why you feel that way. "Oh. I, uh, saw you seemed distracted. Just wanted to make sure you're okay."

You wince, acutely aware of your frazzled appearance after the long shift. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Just tired is all."

“That’s not good,” he notes with a small frown, leaning back to press his heels to the ground. “Did you eat well?”

“Do you fuss over all strangers?” you muse.

“Oh, well, uhm, I see you a lot here, not that I’m watching you, just that I noticed that you’re here, a lot, so I thought you must like food-”

“You talk a lot.” You raise an eyebrow, trying to cut off his flustered stammering with your motion.

“That came out a lot worse than I’d imagined in my head,” he admits with a slight dip of his shoulders. “Sorry about that, I got nervous. I don't talk to many people… or, uh, women... so I tend to be a bit of a dumbass.”

Surprisingly, as shitty as you feel, a small smile graces the corner of your mouth.

“You’re honest, aren’t you?”

“According to a lot of people… yeah.”

“I don’t think I caught your name earlier,” you say, eyes scanning his vivid outfit for a nametag. There, pinned to his apron like a defining feature of his. “Leon?”

“That’s me,” he replies proudly. “And I already know yours!”

“Sorry?”

“Your… name?” Leon puckers his bottom lip, as if scarring it with his teeth will take back the words hanging between you. “Sorry… like I said, I’ve seen you here a lot.”

And he smiles shyly.

You’re flushed the whole way home, thinking of that sweet little smile, the way his eyes crinkled, his fresh linen scent, how you forgot how to breathe.

And your carefully built world topples over.

<><><><>

You never expected to look forward to the little messages in your fortune cookies, but you blame it on the fact you know Leon’s handing them to you, standing behind the counter in that cute little outfit. Even if he has no idea what’s in them, you can gaslight yourself into thinking he deliberately picks the ones complimenting your smile, or telling you how pretty your eyes look.

Of course, he can tell you that all himself. You sit shoulder to shoulder with him on the stools that you think are meant to be mocking bar stools, but they have barely any space between them, so you’re crammed together.

You wait for him to move away, to tell you to put some distance between you two, but nothing comes. You watch his profile, that handsome face eat cheap noodles when he really deserves so much better.

The lights dim as the last employee clocks out. It’s gotten so late that the crickets demand entrance, chirping their redundant sound, silencing as you walk past the slouching grass like plant that tickles your bare ankles as you walk back to your respective cars.

“Well,” he says, twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers, like he hasn’t been talking to you for the last two weeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, nodding. The grin that eats up his face is so infectious you can’t help but smile back.

The same smile drops from your face when you check your Uber texts, a system you’ve repeated so much over the last few months that it feels like second nature, but not very natural when you see that your driver had to back out of the deal at the last minute, suspiciously also taking your money with them, leaving you broke and without a ride.

You stare at the small blue rectangle gripped in your fingers, heat rising to your face, realizing how stupid you must seem to the guy who must be pulling away right at this moment, and will he ever want to hang out with you again-

“Something wrong?” You hear his voice before you hear the knocks on his car roof, and he’s so tall that even at this distance you have to crane your neck to glower at him, and a lopsided smile overtakes his face.

“This isn’t fair,” you insist after explaining your situation, and the only response he gives is a slight shake of his head, as if exasperated. “I already paid all the money!”

“Crap, then something’s wrong,” he mumbles. “Do you usually always use all your money on the trip here?”

You falter. “Not usually.”

He arches a golden brow, a gate to your forthcoming confession. “Then…?”

“Well, I come out here to see you,” you admit quietly. “And then I go home.”

“Exactly how far away do you live?” His voice is smooth, but his expression reminds you of those times when your mother caught you doing something you shouldn’t be, doing something that shows how much you need that validation to survive.

“Not that far,” you assure, nodding your head, but you fail to convince the both of you.

“Do you want a ride home?” he asks quietly, softly, as if the night might intrude on your conversation.

“That would be nice,” you reply in a hushed whisper, as if further backing up the idea that the moon is listening, lighting up your words, shining on his hair as you both clamber into his car.

He apologizes for the mess in his spotless car, and you assume it’s just a courtesy, but he goes on and on about how he needs to get his life together. You don’t pay attention to the words that come out of his mouth, just his mouth in general. The amount of times you’ve done this slips from your mind, just another irrelevant number in your life.

If his life is a mess, your life must be a heap of shit.

Your address tumbles past strangely parched lips, well, at least it did, a while ago. But the ride was far too short, and he pulls up in your driveway, a bewildered expression on his face, as if he can’t believe this is where you live; a humble, simple abode, just like all your neighbors.

“So, this is goodbye, then?”

“Not forever, I hope,” he whispers, voice breathy.

“Uh, okay then? But let’s meet somewhere that isn’t your place of work?”

You were joking when you said it, but it seems he doesn’t pick up on it. His eyes are dreamy and thoughtful on his drive back, and by the time he gets home, he has a plan.

He’s going to stun you.

<><><><>

“Well?”

Leon’s gone out of his way to please you. Everything you’ve said during your time together, those vague comments about your favorite type of cheese, your opinions on the amazingly random topics you’re always switching between, it’s all right there.

You hope it's a physical display of his love.

His heart is spread bare, on the checkered, classic pattern of red and white, starkly contrasting with the blades of grass that bear your combined weight, not one, but two, so closely conjoined that you feel more at ease than you have in years.

You share a smile as you indulge in the simple yet delightful cucumber sandwiches, savoring each bite as you bask in each other's company. In the far distance, birds chirp, serenading you both, as if a soundtrack to these moments that seem to tick by faster than they should.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a softness in his gaze that speaks volumes. Time slows, encapsulating you both, a delicious freedom licking up your spine.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” you remark, wiping your face with a napkin, feeling content as you lean back, lying your head on your palms.

He mirrors your action, although his head twists to meet you, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant if I didn’t know a few things, right?”

“Guess so.” You shrug and the afternoon wears on, the park imaginative and alive with the children that race around the playground, darting like minnows through the swings and slides.

If you had met Leon in your childhood, would things have been different? Would you still be where you are today, arms brushing, only held apart by the barrier of remains scattered between you both, a battlefield of scarred napkins and damaged plastic utensils, a war fought to keep you separate.

He is caring and decisive and rational, the most reliable person you know, and you faintly register it’s been half a year, and you haven’t progressed any further with each other. The battle has come to a standstill, and neither side dares to make a move.

You think that half the problem lies not with you, but with Leon, and what he does with all his free time. He’s not the type to laze around; you think you know him well enough to make that assumption, but you aren’t sure anymore.

Cue example one: the mysterious phone calls that have begun to grow in frequency, the ones that always sour Leon’s mood, leave him sullen and unfriendly to talk to. Eventually, you grow tired of his monosyllabic answers, and make your absence known, still wondering what goes on in his life.

With a furrowed brow, he glances at the caller ID, his expression tightening with concern. You watch as his once-relaxed posture stiffens with some unseen burden. With a sigh, he excuses himself to take the call, leaving you momentarily alone with your thoughts.

You can sense the tension tinging the area, Leon’s clenched jaw betraying the stress he tries to conceal as he stalks back to you, shoving his phone into his pocket, evidently agitated.

“You don’t need a ride home, do you?” His voice contrasts his request; he obviously isn’t in the mood to drive you home.

“I’ll get a cab.” You shake your head, not wanting to be the instrument he releases all that pent up anger on.

He casts a shadow over you, standing tall and easy, in the dying sun he looks like a dying angel, his eyes soft and sad, skin begging to be touched. And while you want nothing more than to reach out and caress his cheek, tell him it’ll be okay, kiss his troubles away, you don’t know what you are right now.

Friends? Would a friend do that? So you offer him a supportive smile, trying not to seem deliberate, and amidst the fading light of the park and the cooling breeze that accompanies you back to your divided lives, you already regret it, watching Leon speed off, just a distant thought in your memory.

You should trust your gut more often.

<><><><>

As the car glides through the shadowy city streets, you catch sight of the new monument in the distance, the one Leon must’ve told you about. Surprising yourself, you decide to take a spontaneous detour. You tap your driver on the shoulder, and she smiles encouragingly. For the most part, the drive was silent, but you don’t mind her soft voice explaining the history behind why they decided to construct it in the first place.

She pulls around the corner, approaching the area near the monument, but the statue quickly is pushed to the back of your mind. It’s the flashing police lights and a sense of urgency in the air that catches your attention. A crime scene tape cordons off the area, and officers are stopping all vehicles passing through.

A stern-faced cop approaches your cab and instructs you both to step out. The driver uneasily abandons her car where it’s parked, then weaves through the forming crowd effortlessly, as if she’s gotten used to the downtown mobs of people.

You, however, barely come to this side of the town, where the city lights are always attacking your eyes that are comfortable with the soft sunset across the farm, where the people are always knocking against each other like clumsy goats, everyone bustling with a purpose.

As you also try your best to push your way through the throng, a knot forms in your stomach at the sight that greets you in the center of the commotion. The blood reaches up to where your footsteps falter, where everyone steps back to avoid staining their footwear.

Splatters of crimson paint a macabre picture that sends a shiver down your spine. The wail of sirens pierces the night, flaring lights casting an eerie glow that dances like amethyst flames, illuminating the limp body that uniformed figures crouch near.

And one of those figures, someone you’d never expect at the grim scene of a murder, is Leon, his unfamiliar stony expression cast in a stark light against the backdrop of chaos.

You draw closer, questions threatening to unravel the fabric of your reality, steeling yourself for the confrontation, because you thought you were close to him, a person he could trust. Was that such a silly thought? To think that you might have had something?

Apparently it was.

“Leon?” you demand, pressing yourself into the caution tape, warning bells ringing in your mind at the neon yellow bending to your will against your stomach.

“What?” He glances up and around, scanning the entire world until his eyes land on yours, going wide slightly, and his position stumbles, as if his legs give way.

“Get up, rookie,” another cop barks. “Focus! And you, stop distracting him!” Someone bats at your face, but you just sidestep the blow and storm closer, in the tension of the moment.

If you had just a speck of your sense at the time, you might’ve forced yourself to step away, to take a few calming deep breaths, but seeing his face dappled in such an unnatural light, to see his warmth be taken away to something that’s real, something like a life gone.

You always saw him as your solace, away from your life, something that was unreal, just for you. You forget to see him as a being of his own, with feelings of his own. And sadly, you don’t know the difference between impulsive and intrusive.

You’re surprised when Leon rises to meet your eyes, albeit it only lasts for a moment until he’s towering over you again, and there’s a sense of authority there that wasn’t there before, eyes strict and narrowed.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says, in such a final tone it doesn’t occur to you that you could argue back. But his voice, a splinter of your Leon, the one you know, slips through. “I promise.”

So you stand back, near the patrol cars, their wails ratting your skull, but you grit your teeth and force yourself through it, eyes directed on Leon. It’s a while before the crowd clears, presumably because the idea of a murder is enticing until they see how long it truly takes, as compared to television.

But you stand there, leaning against the side of the car that you know is Leon’s, recognizing it as the one that you’ve rode in so many times, and you wonder why he’s taken a fragment of your time here, to this place outside of your relationship.

Eventually, Leon makes frantic motions to the top of the monument, stretching to the sky before gesturing back to the body, and everyone around him offers a pensive expression and solemn nods before someone calls out something you can’t hear.

The sirens die down immediately, and everyone claps Leon on the back. He flushes and stumbles with them to the cars, and you promptly ignore everyone’s gaze on you as he approaches. But there’s someone with him.

Feline eyes meet yours, an arm draped over his shoulder, competitive expression and this mysterious woman and Leon saunter over to you. She’s dressed in a long, beige trench coat, and her black sunglasses rest low on her nose, perched just right so that she can lift her face to offer you the most cursory of glances before turning away.

And she has the audacity to peck Leon on the cheek before she gives you a smug smile with the side of her face that only you can see before waving goodbye, somehow gracefully, and stalking away to what you assume is a fancy sports car.

“Look, I know you have a lot of questions.” Leon holds up his hands in defense, before grinning, and involuntarily, you feel the corner of your mouth quirk upwards.

“Lot of is an understatement,” you grumble.

“Talk over dinner?” he offers.

“Is this you trying to impress me?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Is it working?”

<><><><>

“Right, and you didn’t think telling me you were a fucking cop was important?” Your spring roll is devastated, its insides spilling everywhere on your plate, bits of cabbage and carrot dotting the cardboard.

“I didn’t think it would change anything between us,” he mumbles. “So what difference would it make?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You push away from the table, and his eyes follow you when you stand up, and his actions seem to come naturally, as an instinct, when he trails you across the empty store.

“You know what it means!” he protests.

“Maybe I don’t, Leon, so maybe you should explain,” you retort. “Explain why you thought it was okay to lead me on like that, all this time, when you have a girlfriend! Which one of us are you really cheating on?”

“What?” Now he looks genuinely confused, and his confusion seems to spark some doubt in your own defense, breaking down your sure walls. “Girlfriend? Cheating?”

His eyes are glazed over with tears, and if he starts crying, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You take a step closer, but now he’s the one to recoil away, shaking his head, wiping his eyes.

Leon inhales sharply. “How could you say something like that? I told you when we met, I’m not… not very good with these kinds of things.”

“But she-”

“Kissed me?” He scoffs. “Yeah, right. Like your mother’s never kissed you goodnight.”

You misread everything. That smug smile was her approval, on those curved lips, those narrowed eyes that were… well, just always narrowed. How could you get something so wrong?

"I... I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "I didn't know... I thought..." Your words falter as you struggle to find the right ones to express the whirlwind of relief, a gust of skittish butterflies pattering against the walls of your stomach, trying to find release.

"I should have been honest from the start," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "My job… it can hurt people. You saw. I want to keep you safe."

“You’re not mad?” you ask quietly.

Leon's eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he responds, "How could I ever be mad at this cute little face?" He playfully puffs your cheeks together, a gesture meant to be endearing.

Before you can fully process his teasing remark, Leon's demeanor shifts once again, his voice lower and more intimate as he adds, "Or... these lips." And with a sudden, decisive move, he leans in and presses a tender kiss against your lips.

And your fragile world topples over.

Again.

<><><><>

Leon never ceases to surprise you, that much you can definitely expect. You shut your computer, ready for your lunch break, when someone calls your name from the lower floor. That much you’ve come to expect, but while you’re gathering your belongings, someone else calls out something else.

“Hey, hurry up! Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting!”

To say you stumbled would be nice. You somehow manage to trip over the arm of the chair, end up with all your papers fluttering to the ground, but you ignore the mess and file it away for later, trying to tame your hair (an impossible feat in three seconds) as you storm down the stairs.

Your heels click on the tiles as you make your descent as graceful as can be, minus that one part where you trip and lurch forward before gripping the hand railing for safety. You see him standing at the entrance, talking to the receptionist guy, a box nestled between his arms.

“Doughnuts?” you ask, staring at the box enticingly, recognizing the bright pink and rainbow sprinkles from your childhood.

“Got some free time,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your nose before opening the box. It seems that you really have everyone’s attention now. “And coupons!”

You toss him a shit eating grin to show your returned affection before immediately curling your fingers around a glazed doughnut. And eventually, once the first person timidly approaches, quietly asking if they could maybe have one, Leon beams.

“I brought enough for everyone!” he proclaims, and he steps to the side to reveal three similar boxes, all presumably stocked with the same doughnuts.

“Looks like you’re an office favorite now, huh?” you tease, nudging him with your elbow. He shifts from your impact and returns the gesture, in the process of doing so smears chocolate frosting on the underside of his nose.

“I’ll always be your favorite officer though, right?” he jokes in response.

You don’t respond, you’re too busy staring at that one smear of cocoa against his skin, and suddenly you’re itching for a napkin, so you twist over your shoulder to grab one.

“Righ-” His echo is muffled by the napkin stuffed into his mouth as you gently dab at the area, squinting your eyes.

“Yeah, of course, totally,” you mumble absentmindedly, satisfied with your efforts. You take the excuse a little further just to stare at his amused expression, the quirk of his brow, the tilt of his eyes softening.

Your colleagues will never let you hear the end of this.

Either way, since he’s on break and he’s on the manager’s good side, bribing her with a few Boston Cream doughnuts, she allows him to hop upstairs with you.

“So, if you’re a cop,” you ask while rubbing hand sanitizer into your palms. “Why’re you working at Panda Express?”

“They lowered the income rate for the citizens of Raccoon City, including the police force,” he grumbles, swinging his legs from where he’s perched on the side of your desk. “Which I think is totally stupid!”

“So you think you shouldn’t have applied at all?” you query further.

“Well, honestly? I’m glad I applied,” he admits, and at your questioning expression, continues, “I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Hooray, taxes,” you say numbly, flipping through the giant stack of papers left on your desk, all jumbled up from your earlier mishap.

“Hooray, taxes, indeed,” he agrees.

“I was being sarcastic.” Leon scoffs, twisting over his shoulder to lean down and meet your lips. When he pulls away, there’s an endearing yet mocking look in his eyes.

“I’m not that stupid.”

<><><><>

Nothing happens that day, you don’t see a black cat anywhere, you don’t walk under any ladders, and if you do walk on cracks, well, you do that every day, so your luck must always be this horrible, right?

You’ve somehow scored this moonlit masterpiece strolling beside you, a being born from the clouds, so maybe you’re not all that unlucky.

Usually, you get a warning when bad things happen. But all you can feel is the jittery, warm feeling that you get when you’re brushing hands with Leon, trying to bring him closer to you. You think he notices, and doesn’t say anything.

You invite yourself into his car, but the first of many problems to come arrives in the form of water that splashes on Leon’s face, just above his eyebrow, and he quickly slides into his seat.

You absently brush the area, admiring his hair, his boyish qualities, and suddenly wonder if he’s always looked this young. Far too innocent for the world.

“It’s nice in here,” you offer.

He sinks back into the seat with a gentle, relaxed smile. "Well, either way, get comfortable. Looks like we’re expecting rain.”

You nod, legs unsteady, and find yourself nestled in leather beside his cologne-scented form. The engine hums to life, and he shifts gears, pulling onto the road as traffic flees.

He glances over, moonlight caressing sculpted cheeks. "What’s wrong?"

“Do you have any water?” He gestures to the water bottle in the cupholder on his left side, on the driver’s door. Your knees knock against each other as you reach over to grasp it, ducking under his outstretched arms, averting your eyes to your right rather than the other direction.

“Can I…?” You gesture to the bottle. “Or should I just like, you know, waterfall, or whatever-”

“We’ve literally exchanged saliva,” he states bluntly. “I don’t think I have a problem with you drinking from my water bottle.”

“Ugh, you weirdo.” But you’re the one drinking like a starved woman, which you suppose that you are, but that of which you’re really dragging your gaze over isn’t the water.

And you suppose, logically, Leon’s 70% water.

Water that evaporates under the heat of your eyes, drifting up to the previously cloudless sky, forming puffs of sorrow that cry back down to you, tears slamming against the windshield. You ponder how he can even see the road through the downpour.

Eventually, after grumbling under his breath, Leon pulls over, gazing into your upturned face with a question in his eyes, older than his years.

“Would you, uhm, mind if we just went to my place? It’s closer anyways, and I don’t want to risk driving any further than I have to in these conditions…”

You smile, and he can see your answer woven in your eyes.

<><><><>

Leon forgot to mention his (adoptive) parents live right next door. So of course, when they’re just out and about casually watching him through the door camera, they might just happen to say a dashing young lady walk out of his car.

And said young lady is unfamiliar to these judging, supreme figures that must decide Leon’s fate for him, because he’s just a boy. Their precious little baby.

So that’s what you assumed happened when Leon’s parents clambered out of their door, calling for you to wait, his mother pulling her cardigan around herself tighter against the chill.

And now here you are, facing two people that, no offense, look nothing like the man seated next to you, fingers entwined, foot tapping out a nervous beat on the wooden floor.

“So, darling, how’s work going?” Another placeholder question for what she really wants to know: how much do you make in a year? Do you have a degree? Did you even finish high school?

You respond with everything they must want to hear, like those questions on the backs of those 2000’s magazines with the answer that’s always right, the one that has the perfect amount of sense in it, the Goldilocks rule.

Goldilocks must have been gobbled up by the bears this night, because every answer seems to deepen the furrow forming between their brows, as if they’re in sync, and you wonder how you can manage to screw up something that should be simple.

Meeting the parents, check. What’s next, falling into the cake at the wedding? You must be planning too far ahead judging by their unimpressed looks.

“Mom,” Leon groans. “Cut it out!”

“I’m just getting to know her, sweetie,” she replies sweetly, voice dripping like molasses, and you can tell there’s a lot more she’s keeping behind her tongue. "Well, dear, do you have any hobbies or interests you're passionate about?"

"Oh, I just love cooking!" you exclaim, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up your face. Maybe you’ve finally found something to impress them with.

Leon's father leans in, his interest piqued. "What kind of dishes do you enjoy cooking?" he asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I love trying out new recipes from different cuisines," you reply, your excitement palpable. "Right now I’m learning how to cook Thai cuisine!"

Leon's mother nods, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Cooking is such a beautiful art form," she muses, her face softening. "It's wonderful to see someone so passionate about creating delicious meals. Someone who can share that love with our son."

You wonder if any other girl had waltzed along, marveled at cooking with them, would they have dropped their judging character immediately, just as they had with you?

You suppose it’s a mystery you don’t need to solve.

Besides, you don’t have to worry about facades with Leon.

Of course not.

But you do wonder why he hasn’t touched any of the food.

<><><><>

You sit back, sly fingers curved around the tender flesh of his waist, pressing your head further into the crook of his arm. You watch his chest rise and fall like the arrival and departure of the sun, bringing you warmth under the blanket that restricts your movements, tucked in around you like a burrito.

He must be hot, you realize, he’s sweltering under the blanket, but when you offer to turn on the overhead fan, he shivers like he’s cold at the same time and shakes his head.

In moments of silence, you catch glimpses of a far off-look in his eyes, a horror movie long forgotten, as if his thoughts have wandered to a place you can’t reach. There’s shadows of things he doesn’t say, things you know he wants to say.

“Hey, are you good?” You shift your weight to look up at him, where you might’ve found yourself admiring the curve of his chin, or his dappled skin, but now you only feel concern.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, mouth stretching in a yawn. “My new case is taking a bit longer than I’d hoped.”

“Mhm?” you press gently, wanting to get more clarity on the situation without seeming nosy. His response is delayed, a different, pitiful expression grappling to take hold.

“Oh… the, uhm, pharmaceutical company? Something that has to do with… was it rain?” Leon shakes his head, clicking his tongue in the back of his throat. “You know what? Forget it. Tonight’s our night.”

He says ‘our’, but he pays you little to no attention for the next three hours.

Your first thought is that you're boring him. Have you already become so insufferable that he doesn’t want to hang out with you anymore? You had expected it, of course, you’re not a very animated person, but he loved you, didn't he?

Leon’s gone quiet, silent, like he’s back in that box in his mind you can never seem to pierce. The light that used to dance in his eyes now flickers dimly, like a fading ember struggling to hold onto its warmth.

He carries himself with the same grace and poise, like a practiced act to a play you weren’t a part of, and you can’t push it away anymore. But of course, as all things in your life seem to follow, when you finally find yourself gaining the courage to confront him, he's gone.

<><><><>

Missing. And no one knows where he is. And some part of you blames yourself, you obviously must've scared him away.

“You know what’s wrong!” You bite your tongue to keep you from raising your volume, not so much fearing the fish beneath you but the woman leaning against the shipping containers, scrutinizing slender nails with feigned boredom.

If Leon trusts her, she should hear your first plea. She knows him better than you do, much to your dismay, but it could work out in your favor currently.

Her expression remains stony.

"Please," you beg, and a sliver of emotion slips through that mask- confusion? "Help me save Leon. I know you care for him, even if you can't show it."

Her crimson lips quirk. "I have… undisclosed reasons for ensuring his well-being. But my work takes precedence, and I can’t disclose anything to you."

You glare through lingering tears. "No deals, no games. You tell me where he's investigating right now."

A long pause, then she sighs. "Very well. It seems you really won't leave me alone, hm?" She grins coldly. "Shall we play the heroes, just this once?"

Playing the heroes is harder than it turns out to be, it seems.

"Evening, boys. My associate and I have a… delivery." The guards blink, stupefied, then waves you through with dopey grins, mostly directed at her. Ada smirks. "Pathetic."

A floorplan materializes in her hand, every room and hallway illuminated with ghastly blue precision. "Samples are held in labs B5 through 7. Avoid guards, cameras. And try not to set anything off - we're on a tight schedule."

You dart through shadows, cautiously approaching the correct hall. Surprisingly, nothing contradicts your journey, as if the whole building’s been abandoned. Guess it’s your lucky day.

You're wondering just how lucky you really are when you turn to usher Ada ahead, only to freeze as you turn the corner, and there, just a few feet away, he sits.

So calmly, so pristine, as if life was just as simple as sitting on the floor, in the middle of a hallway, in a building where you don't belong, after ghosting everyone who knows you for two days.

And yet there's something different. Haggard eyes stare from a chalk-white face, lips twisted in a feral snarl. That face, once so stunning you had to think about his existence, now only conveys hatred.

"L-Leon?" you breathe. But those eyes betray no recognition, only hunger. As your stare, transfixed by fright and grief, a click sounds behind you.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting you here." Ada glares down the barrel she points to Leon's head, somehow still perfectly composed. You want to rip off her head. "Now, are we all going to play nice?"

For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then Leon's eyes flicker, awareness filtering into his eyes by slow degrees, and he stands up at half that speed, as if time is against him.

But then he jolts back, as if something's clicked, and suddenly he's back with you, standing in front of you, gasping for breath and clutching you tightly.

You wait for a moment, not quite sure if you're imagining things or not, before a dry, unamused chuckle rips from your throat and slowly morphs into the laugh you're used to sharing with him.

Leon leans closer to you, resting your forehead against his, cupping your face as he stares down at you, recognition so evident in those open eyes. “How'd you find me?”

“Well, it's not like the department was going to notice,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. Ada scoffs in reply, but her head tilts to the side.

“And your endearing girlfriend here wouldn't let me get away that easily.”

You suppose her tone is light enough that you can let it pass as a joke, and at the moment you're so overwhelmed with relief that you aren't too worried about her idea of you either way.

“Seeing you… gosh,” he groans, pressing a palm to his temple, hissing. “I can barely think straight!”

“I know, baby, I know,” you coo comfortingly, keeping your voice soft so as to not alert any guards that might've pulled up around the area.

“No, I can't…” His eyes go fazed again, blank, emotionless, and once again he's slipped through your grasp like grains of sand on a beach, only there is nothing tranquil about this situation.

“Leon, listen to me. You’re going to be just fine,” you affirm, nodding your head, hoping he'll copy your motion.

He doesn't. "I...I can feel it," he gasps. Beads of sweat run tracks through the grim on his face. "It's… stronger than me..."

You grip his hand tight, ignoring the growing feverheat. "No, Leon, you can beat this. You always do." But even you can hear the desperation in your voice.

And you wait for Ada to chime in with some classic, yet somehow sassy third-wheel dialogue, but it never comes. In fact, she's vanished into the shadows, presumably already so far away you can't hear the click of her heels on the sterile floors.

Leon groans, and your attention snaps back to him, face contorting. "Go," he grits out. "Drive… and don't look back."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you proclaim, and his eyes soften in confusion as you sling his arms around your shoulder.

You're sure half the population must've heard your racket at this point, but it seems something else has gotten the security's attention.

As long as it's not you, you don't mind. Leon’s lower lip wavers, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, and you want to peck everything that hurts until he's okay. But you can't be sure of anything until you're both safe.

The first responders always seem to pick up the prank calls from the teenagers that don't need their help, but it seems like hours go by the more Leon's blood coats your fingers, and inevitably, your phone screen.

He's stopped responding to your questions, and you fight to keep just a fragment of his conscience there with you, but his eyes, the vivid blue gone dull, meet yours and offer no further response.

When the ambulance finally arrives, they leave you outside the gates, denying you entry, with those ruby dusted hands and diamond streaked face.

You suppose you've always wanted to be the jewel in the night that races to the hospital to see their lover. And now that just seems silly.

<><><><>

Three weeks.

That's all the time he'll have with you. And even then, he's not truly there. He struggles to formulate his own thoughts, and now, whenever you see him, all you can think of is who he used to be.

As for Ada, you haven't seen her since. She hasn't snitched on you, so you suppose that it wouldn't hurt anyone to keep the events of that day between the three of you.

Two of you, now.

He isn't a person anymore. He isn't your Leon. But that's hard to remember when you've never been good at seeing what's beneath the surface, the dense, complex layers that create a person.

You see his soft, peaceful face that is like second nature to you, and you wonder if he'll respond to you today, even after hours of repeating the same truth that you know somewhere, deep down, you’ll never believe. The doctor's left the room already, decreeing two hours of treatment should do something for him, save him, much like removing a tumor.

“I went to our place, picked up some lunch for us,” you murmur, knowing he can't hear you. “You weren’t standing at the counter like always, and I almost lost it. Again.”

You can imagine him, if he was really here, chuckling, shaking his head at your questionable behavior. Not just a shell, a half of a person, but a whole that somehow also completed you.

See, this is why you failed math. Are you half a person without him, or whole?

“I got us a fortune cookie!” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat, as if your positive energy could transfer to him, in a magical, mystical manner, and he'd come back to you.

“Let's read it, yeah?” No point in waiting for a response when you know it'll never come.

Thin, pale letters. How odd, they resemble Leon's strangely flushed face.

“Today, your voice will bring a smile.” You suppress one of those and instead roll your eyes. “Your friends can’t think of new content, can they?”

You stuff the paper into your handbag, slung over the plastic chair near his bed. You've blocked out the rest of the world, now is time for just you two, however far away he may seem. Which is why you scowl up at the doctor, slightly confused at her sympathetic look, and then your ears ring and you shift back to reality. The reality of the situation.

The reality of the flatline.

The reality that, no matter how much you thrash in the security guard's arms, Leon's not coming back. He’s gone.

In a way, he's been gone for longer than you've chosen to accept. Maybe it would've been easier to let him go sooner. You're marched straight out of the hospital, a beeline for the exit, and you have little time to shout your goodbyes.

But you've grown used to taking advice from cookies. After all, they've gotten you to this point. The sarcasm you had so long ago seems silly to you, now, the fact that a biscuit could decide your fate.

To Leon?

Your voice keeps him smiling all the way up to the clouds.

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itstheghostofmypast · 5 months ago

Text

Tender Love

Idol Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: His girl really was a work of art, knew all the ways to surprise him and make him feel loved.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.3K

Est. Read Time: 11 min

Warnings: 🚨PERVERT WOOYOUNG🚨, a lot of skinship (Nothing smexy tho)?

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I'm so glad @edenesth kept this Woo pic for research purposes. Hey, ya'll should've seen it coming, we got a Sannie period fic- we were definitely going to get a Woo one too.

Wooyoung walked down the hallway to his room, humming to himself. Since he was alone in the dorm,he could practically walk around naked if he wanted to, not that he did, but he COULD. Anyway, he had just come back after a much-needed lap around the pool, he was alone and somewhat in pain, which is why he decided to follow the instructions of his physiotherapist. Swimming loosened his muscles, and helped with the aches as well, though the smell of the chlorine was the only thing he dreaded.

Opening the door of his bedroom, he walked in, took off his shirt and tossed it somewhere in the room, only for it to land on his bed. He was busy sifting through his cupboard when he froze, an uncharacteristic form of movement catching his eye, hands still stuffed in his closet, he watched from his peripheral, the lump of the blankets he had left on the bed this morning slithered closer to where his shirt was, a hand creeping out from under the covers, clawing at the cotton before snatching it and engulfing it. What the actual hell!?

Did someone break in? Does he call the manager? The sun-kissed skin male creeped closer to his bed, watching whatever was under the blanket move around, a faint whimpering muffled by the rustling of the sheets could be heard, the springs of his bed, creaking in the same horror that led the sweaty-palmed boy to grip the edge of the blanket with trembling fingers.

Maybe watching horror movies alone for a whole weekend was not a good idea. In reality, he had called over someone else too, but his usual company was busy, told him he'd have to spend the weekend alone, and he did, he spent Friday night alone, even Saturday night too- and look where that got him, facing the new monster that hid under his blanket, possibly a psycho stalker, a parasocial fan very much ready to kill-

"YAH!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, ripping the blanket off the intruder,and eliciting a scream from the intruder.

Standing there he blinked at her, not something he'd ever expect to see -not that he didn't welcome the sight, but it was...odd?

"Stop staring!" She hissed trying to quickly pull the shirt -his shirt- over her head, not sure if she was embarrassed because he had caught her half undressed in his blanket or because of her flashy pink bra- though she couldn't come up with an answer when he gripped her wrist, restraining her movement.

"Why have I never seen this before- have you been holding out on me!?" He screeched as she huffed, snatching her wrist out of his grasp and sitting up to push the shirt all the way down, ignoring his incessant whines and pleas.

"Don't be stupid, and hand me your sweatpants or something, I need to change out of my jeans."

"I'm not sure if I should be turned on, or concered by this strange behaviour."

"There is nothing sexy," grumbling she unbuttoned her pants, trying to kick them off, simultaneously kicking the blanket away as well, "About getting your period while sitting- ugh!" She grunted before letting out a whine, flopping on her back as she stared up at the ceiling in defeat, fine she'd just lay here, tangled in her jeans and his sheets, wearing his shirt, letting the cramps take over her, closing her eyes as she let out a sigh, "In the bus."

There was a moment of silence settled between the two, honestly she couldn't tell if he had left the room or was staring at her like a creep- wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter, she had realised she was dating a creep pretty early in the relationship. So why was she still with him? Cause he was an idol? Cause he was rich and good-looking? Cause he was famous? No.

Her lips quirked into a small smile, when she felt her jeans slowly peel off her legs, the blanket that was wrapped around her leg was gently pulled away, causing her to shiver slightly at the chill in the air, man he really liked to blast that AC on full. A pair of lips press faintly against hers, only for a moment, this is why she was still with him, her eyes opening to be graced by the face of an angel, a gentle smile, a chuckle ringing in her ears like a symphony she had been too woeful and in need of- because Jung Wooyoung, was perhaps the most caring, selfless and loving person she had ever met.

He hummed to himself, fingers caressing down her thigh to her knee, tapping her knee aimlessly before he walked over to his closet, going back to his original task. Though this time he managed to obtain the items required, humming his way across the room he turned on the small desk lamp, before turning off the bright light, knowing well how pain causes heightened sensitivity to light, and nothing was going to trigger his baby.

"You need help putting them on?" He asked, showing her the sweatpants, though his eyes never met hers, too focused on another part to notice her face-

"Woo?"

"Hmm?"

"Stop staring at my underwear-"

"You can't wear a set that hot and- wait." Frowning he knelt down, grabbing her ankle, about to lift her leg watching her pull the shirt down and pull her legs away, shaking her head at him, gesturing for the pants, "Why are you wearing such a set- no- why are you here!?"

Sighing she gently rolled off the bed, planting her feet on the cold ground, a hand reaching out to keep her balance, one that was gingerly accepted by his bigger one, smiling down at her when she looked up at him all doe eyed and confused, giving her the signature Wooyoung giggle, followed by a, "Don't worry, I got you baby."

Mumbling a thanks, she put on the pants quickly, hoping he couldn't see an inch of her pad, even for a second - not that he'd mind it, but it was embarrassing. With a sigh she sat back down, turning to look at him, as she began to speak, "Since I couldn't come during the weekend, because of stupid work, I wanted to make it up to you by surprising you today, but on my way here I got my period, " she mumbled, speaking much like how her lover had a while back, staring not at his face, but at the alluring tan expanse of his chest, eying the tattoo, she often wondered if it hurt while he got it done, "luckily I was wearing an emergency one...but I had to change as soon as I came here and I couldn't find you anyway and well, it hurt a lot and I saw your bed so...that's how you found me."

Shaking his head in disbelief, he moved closer to cup her face, angling her head up to meet her eyes, "My eyes are up here...you perv." He smirked, earning an eyeroll before he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, turning to leave, "I'll be back with a quick shower-" his words were cut short when she gripped his wrist, her nails leaving small crescents, as she looked up at him, "Stay."

"I smell like chlorine, love, I'll be back before you know it-"

"Please."

That's how Wooyoung found himself laying on his side, an arm lazily placed over her waist, the other folded and tucked under his head, while her finger outlined the tattoo on his chest, yes she had asked him to not put his shirt on, not for any perverse reason, mind you, she just liked how warm he was- that was all. He was the weird one, staring at her with an unsettling smile.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Her words were but a whisper, enough for something to tingle down his spine, an involuntary shiver causing him to press his fingertips against her lower back, causing her to let out a sigh at the pleasant pressure.

"That you were wearing something so hot, all for me."

"Oh my god," she sighed, "Yes, I, a grown woman who wanted to spend some quality time with my boyfriend, who till last notice was a fully grown man and not a horny teenager, wore something he'd like." Meeting his eyes she couldn't help but blush at the way he shamelessly stared at her, before his eyes turned into pleased crescents, crinkling at the ends due to the smile that stretched across his face- man, the things he'd do to her.

"Too bad it was ruined, though." Moving closer, she mumbled, pressing her face into his neck, hugging him closer, her fingers gently scratching the nape of his neck, tempted to trail lower to trace the ink.

"What are you talking about?" He sighed, basking in the attention; honestly he had assumed that he'd need to pamper her now, make her tea, bring her something to eat and end up massaging her back, a monthly ritual that he had introduced in their relationship, the first time he'd seen how she'd go pale in pain during the time of the month. What he did not expect however was for her to be all over him like this, perhaps a bit more touchy than he usually was, letting him feel every inch of her, mind you, not everywhere, she'd become as feral as a feline if he touched the no go areas during shark week, but having her pressing against him, tangled under his blanket, having her trail her lips up the column of his jaw, only to end up, pecking the tip of his nose, smiling at him all cute and flushed, with tinted cheeks and a crazy bedhead, on a Sunday evening, no, he did not expect this at all-

"Woo."

"Hmmm?" He asked, staring up at her, admiring the way the warm, dim light accentuated her beauty, fingers feeling her warmth under the cotton, giving it a little squeeze, earning a stutter in response, "W-when I said unclip it, I didn't mean have your way."

"Did they grow big-"

"Sometimes they swell up and become sensitive." She cut him off before pulling back, flopping down beside him as she skillfully took off the undesired, itchy and irritating pink garment he seemed to have liked so much, slipping it out from under the shirt and holding it up, glaring at it in disgust, though her partner next to her was still amazed by how women do this, more importantly he wanted to know more about the fact that he had just learnt, so he watched her toss it across his room, landing somewhere with a soft thud, not that he cared, no one was home so no one could barge in.

Turning to her side, she faced away from him, a soft sigh escaping her when he hugged her, pressing himself against her as he placed a leg on hers, the weight helping with the pain.

It was peaceful...for a good minute before his sneaky hand decided to "conduct an experiment for research purposes"-

"Stop!" She whined, pushing his hand away, huffing when he placed his chin on her shoulder, his cheek pressing against hers, "Does it hurt?"

"Somewhat, yeah!" She mumbled, ignoring him when he hummed seriously in return, her clown was clowning around and she didn't want to partake in his circus for the-

"JUNG WOOYOUNG!"

Her shriek was followed by a sharp smack, earning a whine from the man who pulled back and pouted at her all cute, "Why'd you do that." He asked, referring to the slap his hand had received as he gently rubbed over the stinging skin.

"Because I said no, you moron."

"It was for research purposes! For science! My hand wasn't even in your shirt!"

"I know how scientific you are, and how much you love your research, but unless you want me to leave-"

"No!" He gasped, pouncing at her, rolling them around on his bed causing her to laugh but also let out a whine, asking him to stop, only he did, but this time he was completely wrapped around her. His face buried in her shoulder, arms holding her close, his legs tangled with hers, both wrapped- trapped- in well, most of the bedsheets and blanket, god knows where the pillows were too.

"See, you can get all the love you want," she giggled, fingers carding through his hair as she tugged on it, making sure her grip wasn't hard enough to hurt him, but enough for him to tilt his head up and look at her "If you behave."

"You're very bossy for someone who came to give me her unconditional love."

"You're very touchy for someone who claims to treat his lover with care."

"I am treating you with care." He smiled at her, looking at her dead in the eye before he pressed his forehead against hers, the tip of his nose poking hers, causing her to raise a brow at him, though her heart began to beat like crazy, only leaving her to hope he couldn't hear the passion and admiration that flowed within her for him, "I'm treating you with all the care and," he whispered, his hand slowly maneuvered around her, placing it on the 'subject area', not that she noticed, she was too distracted by him, noting how his lips were barely a few inches away from hers, only to let out a whine when he finished his statement and gave her an experimental squeeze, "tender love."

Wooyoung learnt two things that night as he laughed through the pain, running out of the room -yelling about how he'd take a quick shower then get her something to eat- a hand pressed against his stinging cheek. Firstly, women tend to get all sensitive and tender all over during their period and secondly, his girl could swing like a champion, probably enough to break a jaw- he sure loved his strong, independent, sensitive lady, who would probably require more than just a nice meal to forgive him, perhaps a back rub, or more? Didn't matter, for Jung Wooyoung, lived to please his princess.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 2 months ago

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hii i was wondering if you could do logan with reader that owns a cat and the cat acts JUST LIKE HIM and he cant stand it until reader points it out. thank you!!!!

I loved this request! I have my own little cat, so I wanted this to be as well written as possible. I'm sorry it took so long to be posted. I hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me with motivation to keep posting on here <3

This is my kitten rocket 🤭

Logan was never afraid to meet anyone in your life. He had met your friends and family; he met your colleagues and even your old roommate, but for some reason, everyone is telling him he should be afraid to meet your cat.

Logan can remember every warning he got from the people in your life when they found out he hadn't met your cat yet. "Oh, that's her baby" "Oh he has brought a lot of joy into her life since she found him, he really is her number one" "That cat hates anyone that comes over-I swear it's crazy" "Her cat is just very territorial, very protective" "Make sure you wear shoes, he goes for the toes."

He scoffed at these warnings, it's still just a cat. He wanted your cat to like him, of course he did but he also wasn't afraid to meet the damn thing. He knew you loved you cat, that was your baby, and you took care of him more than you took care of yourself something Logan hated, but he didn't think it mattered what a cat thought of him.

You usually would stay at his place after a night out, but for the past few dates, you two went back to your place instead. It wasn't a big deal, but you were worried for how your cat would react to a strange man coming into his territory. "He just doesn't like people Lo', I don't want him to lash out at you." He could hear in your voice how worried you truly were, and he tried his best to reassure you that the cat and him would get along just fine.

He lied to you. Logan can't stand that fucking cat and that cat has it out for him too. The first night the cat didn't even come out of hiding, it completely broke your heart and Logan ended up leaving a bit earlier than planned because you were worried for your cat's wellbeing, as he was leaving he heard you cooing at the cat calling him your baby and your handsome man and though he'd never admit it aloud a twinge of jealous did echo through Logan's chest. The next night the cat did come out of hiding, just so he could attack Logan's legs. When Logan didn't kick him across the room like he wanted to you came and put the cat in your bedroom. "I am so sorry!! Are you okay??" You exclaimed while you closed the door to your room before trying to check on his scratches even though they healed before you could. He grumbled... sort of whined a bit too, and honestly, he was enjoying the attention, so maybe he milked the injury? Sue him.

What really pushed him over the edge was your cat literally pushing him over the edge. It was around 1 in the morning, and you had just fallen asleep. Logan was holding you in his arms and trying his best to fall asleep himself when the door to your bedroom creaked open. Logan, now fully awake, sits up, trying not to disturb you and is greeted with a sharp meow and sharp little claws to the stomach. "Mother fucker" Logan mumbled under his breath as he pushed the cat off of him, "why are you even in here?" he asked quietly so he wouldn't wake you but sharply enough to try and scare the cat away. The cat meowed louder than before as if he was arguing back and went to lay on your chest, purring as he curled himself into a ball. Logan was pissed but he tried to stay cool and just ignore the cat, then around 4 in the morning, Logan was awoken to his body meeting your bedroom floor. When he stood up, he looked at the bed and saw your fucking cat in his spot. "That's it." Logan had enough and grabbed a blanket before going to the couch.

You woke him up hours later, very confused as to why he was on the couch and was replaced by a cat in the middle of the night. "Baby?" You asked softly, handing him his cup of coffee, "don't. Just don't." He grumbles and sips his coffee, sending your cat a glare as he walks around smugged.

Logan refuses to lose against a damn cat!

It's just a stupid cat, not even 4 months old yet. So why was he letting its behavior get to him so much? Because it was your cat, and even if Logan wasn't ready to admit it yet he really did love you and for some reason you loved that asshole cat more than the world so for fuck sake that cat will like him even if it is the last thing he does in his very long life.

Honestly, it was truly ironic if Logan took the time to think about it. Your cat was a grump. He didn't want people around unless he allowed them to be around, and even then, he wanted his distance. But not when it came to you. When you were around, that cat was glued to you and had the loudest purr Logan had ever heard, and your cat really did get protective of you. It was something Logan had never seen before. Usually, cats don't care, but if you came home upset, the cat wouldn't settle down until you did, too. If he took the time to really think about it, maybe he could see the resemblance the cat shared with another grump you have allowed into your life that you loved more than the world.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #wolverpool #logan wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #james logan howlett #xmen fluff #xmen imagine #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #logan x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader

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etheries1015 · 1 year ago

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I'm not sure if requests are open or not but can I have more content on Twisted Wonderland x Obey Me. No preferences really, it can be anything like the demon boys reactions or even the reactions of our Twisted Wonderland acquaintances.

Maybe the reader could successfully summon one of the boys?

If requests are not open please ignore this.

Requests are always open, because I kinda pick and choose what I like to write and what I don't...so no worries! Thank you for submitting this request! I had a lot of people ask me to write another part about twst x obey me so...

click here for: Pt 1

Twisted wonderland X Obey me crossover where MC goes to twisted wonderland from obey me but has their full range of magical powers.

Only problem is, you finally figured out how to use it to summon the brothers, but now you had a whole other issue upon your hands.

TW: None

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, probably a lot of OOC moments, but I tried!

The day you managed to get in contact with Lucifer was well deserved. You had read and practiced all sorts of magic in your free time, Endless sleepless nights studying, and practicing. And it all has to do with...that mirror. You had managed to contact Micky through the mirror who lived in another world, so why not try contacting the brothers the same way? With a few sigils and a couple other magic tools given to you over time at NRC, you chanted your summoning ritual and the mirror glowed brightly. Next thing you knew, Lucifer was standing in the mirror in front of you.

"Lucif-"

"(Y/NNNNN)!!!" A bunch of voices cried out. Your magic worked a little...too well, because the next thing you knew you were being tackled by a hug. Err...many hugs. They had actually stepped out of the mirror, Asmodeus chocking you in a hug and twirling you around with tears streaming down his face.

"Asmo- Asmo stop! You guys can't-" you tried to warn them to go back through the mirror, however it was too late. The mirror returned to its normal state, and you now stood in your dorm room with 7 demons all in tow. Stuck there.

This can't possibly be good.

But luckily, with you somehow managing to break the laws of magic in Twisted Wonderland, all of the brothers were able to use their full range of magic. Including you.

Their reactions:

Lucifer

"Let me talk to the manager." After he finally sees that you are safe and sound feeling a wave of relief, he is immediately on the mission. He wants to speak to Crowley, which you tried to explain was...difficult. But this is Lucifer we are talking about, anything is possible with him around.

The moment he sees Crowley, he internally groans. The things you had said about him were indeed true, he was avoidant of your issues and was trying his best to downplay the problem at hand.

"How were they able to summon such magical beings...According to the dark mirror, (y/n) should be absolutely powerless, an average human with no merits." Crowley had said.

Lucifer was startled at this accusation, so what you had said about them not taking you seriously due to your lack of magical aptitude in this world...was correct as well. This made his blood boil, however he didn't feel the need to defend you. He knew you would have shown your worth regardless of this hiccup, he had full faith in your abilities in personality, despite what they believed to be "useless" or not.

Easily threatens Crowley. He demands you be given a proper living space with accommodations without treating you as some sort of slave to his issues, despite being under the impression that you had no way of using magic to assist you in your endeavors. You had dealt with him and his brothers enough, why must you be burdened with NRC students issues?

Crowley almost shit his pants bro. When lucifer went into his demon form, Crowley shrunk down in his shoes. The other teachers were the same honestly, they were also present during this meeting. They couldn't bring themselves to fight against the large wingged and horned man that emmited such power before them.

"You dare allow my little sheep to live with such horrible conditions and treated them with such avoidance... I suggest figure out a way to make up for what you have done. I also highly suggest you find a way for all of us to return, it is indeed your fault or whatever "magic mirror" that called upon (Y/N) that had made this mistake. I presume you will work with us to fix this issue?"

"Of course!" Crowley exasperated with a laugh of nervousness, "I promise! However, it is no small expense to-" No. Lucifer was not playing around. He was easily able to keep any big emotions in check, however when it comes to you...

"you WILL assist us. Or you can say goodbye to this school you call 'Night Raven College'- " A ball of light of immense magic began to swirl around his hand and his eyes glowed with deadly intent.

He left the building with a smile of success, leaving behind the teachers almost shitting themselves.

after settling business with Crowley, he ran to you. He had to make up for the lost time of course! You wouldn't be able to leave his grasp for a long while afterwards.

When you tried to ask what he spoke to Crowley about, he simply smiled and told you not to worry, he had it all handled. For now, he wanted to hold you in his arms, it's been a while since he had seen you after all, he needed to recharge.

Mammon

"Mannn, is there anything to do in this run down place?" He put up his feet on the table of the ramshackle dorm lounge, you were caught in his grasp. He had been holding onto you ever since he went through the mirror.

"Please don't cause me trouble here, too." You groaned, bags underneath your eyes, "This situation is bad as is, it's probably best you-"

There was a knock on the door. You sighed and got up, opening the door before revealing Azul. Your eyes widened, you totally forgot you offered to help at the Monstro lounge today!

"Hah? Who's this?" Mammon stood behind you looking down at Azul, who was equally as shocked to see him. But he quickly got over it, shaking his head before returning his gaze towards you.

"I believe we had a deal (y/n)..." Azul said with a glint in his glasses, "You had promised to help out today. Our prefect wouldn't flake out on their duties, would they?" Azul went to grab your hand to drag you out, however Mammon quickly grasped his wrists roughly with eyes slitted in annoyance.

"Who are ya and what do ya think you're doing putting your hands on what's mine?" He growled. You rolled your eyes and slapped your face. Here he goes. You can already tell where this is going.

"yours?" Azul shook his head in shock, "Huh? And you don't look like a student here," Azul pointed out, pulling his hand back from mammon, "Anyhow. Are you saying you will take the Prefects place instead? What would you have to offer me? Prefect is rather popular here despite their lack of magical abilities, and having them would really boost our sales for the week-"

"lack of magical abilities? what are ya on about? My (y/n) is super powerful!" Azul stared blankly before looking at you with doubt in his eyes. You turned your gaze away and sighed in defeat, you knew there was no way he would believe what Mammon had said.

"Well. Magic or no magic, I need somebody to take the job (y/n) had promised. I have a business to run, after all-"

"Oh so you're a business man, huh? Well look no further! I'm the Great Mammon, I have a lot of experience in these things. I'm a total cash grab, a model-"

Mammon went on about his accomplishments and proudly declared he was willing to make a deal with Azul, something you tried to talk him out of, but it was too late. He was already signing the scroll.

"Mammon!" You growled, "You are not listening to a single thing i'm- you know what, whatever. You do what you wanna do. Good luck."

Que Mammon being dragged off to do his manual labor...he will learn the hard way like he always does. Oh well. Leave it to Mammon to run off as soon as he arrived to try and make a deal with the worst person possible!

Leviathan

Hugging you so tightly. He missed you so much! But boredom soon took over. He had no idea what to do, you have no video games, not even a T.V In the lounge! How could you have possibly lived this way?!

"Here, I can call up Idia. He's probably the best person who-"

"You found a gaming replacement?!" Levi whined, "I thought you were my player two! But now you're staying up all night playing games and watching anime with someone else..."

You lightly punched the top of his head. "I didn't, you idiot!" You laughed, "We play games, sure, but you'll always be my player 1. I just don't want you to get bored while you're here."

You called Idia and he was so so so so so reluctant to do it. But it's you, of course. How could he say no? Ortho also did some convincing, saying it's good to find another recluse like Idia. But the trade off was you had to be there too.

Dude. They played games for HOURS in the Ignyhide dorm lounge, and you probably forgot something pretty important...

Idia was a gamer unmatched. Not even Levi could beat him at a lot of these pvp games, and began to become unnerved.

"Bro lol you're such a noob, hey (y/n) I thought you said this guy was good at games, why'd you send this guy? He's practically a normie-"

No way he just said that. THAT was Levis breaking point.

He summoned Lotan

He flooded the entire lounge

You had forced him to submit, and Idia was just staring....wide eyed...what the hell just happened...?

"You can use magic this entire time?!" Idia called out in shock after witnessing you submitting Lotan and Leviathan to your call. Levi did make note of this, however was far too upset and preoccupied by cleaning up his mess before he could mention anything about it.

He was banned very quickly, but now thanks to the giant sea monster, he really piqued the Leech twins curiosity (who happened to be in the mirror chamber at the time, when Lotan escaped Ignyhide and also flooded the chamber of mirrors.) Jade asked Levi to study Lotan and Floyd started admiring Levis Demon form. He's never seen such a cool tail from any creature before!

Levi was on house arrest. You wouldn't permit him to leave ramshackle, but he surprisingly made good and quick friends with the brothers. They were all quickly learning how to sew little outfits, which jade really enjoyed. Floyd was occupied by asking Levi all sorts of questions about Lotan and begging to touch Levis tail, before falling asleep out of boredom on the couch.

They managed to stay entertained with each others company somehow, but it worked out.

Satan

You knew he would be best occupied in the Library, where there was an entire pile of books he had never seen before. He was in heaven. How you managed to get him into the building without him being an authorized student? Crowley gave them temporary access, thanks to Lucifers (threats) negotiations.

He began going through each shelf and picking a bunch of books that looked interesting. He was mainly interested in the magic of this world

He emptied an entire book shelf and huddled into a corner surrounded by a mess of books.

Riddle came in to witness this, and was NOT happy.

"What do you think you are doing?" He confronted Satan. Satan glanced up and was at first upset he was interrupted, however seeing riddle...

"Cat..." Satans mouth dropped open

"Cat? excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" Riddle folded his arms, "No matter. You are supposed to check out these books before utilizing them, and you do not look like a student here. As house warden of Heartslabyul I demand you put these back, or it's off with your head!"

Satan TRIED to explain to him in a civilized way that he was a special guest of the prefect and was given access to as many books as he desired, but Riddle did not believe him. and demanded some form of proof. Satan did not take well to this.

"I'm not going to take demands from a small cat such as yourself. I suggest you find someone else to bother," Satan returned to his book now ignoring Riddle.

"W-wha...EXCUSE ME?!" Riddle yelled, his face turned a bright red and pulled out his wand, "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" Next thing Satan knew he had a heart shaped lock around his neck.

He REALLYYY did not like that. The green aura that surrounded him startled Riddle as Satan stood up towering over him, demon form and all.

"I swear I-" He bared his teeth and raised his hand, before someone yelling "SATAN, SIT!" Caused him to gasp in shock and fall to the ground with a heavy 'thud', something that surprised Riddle.

You ran over and sighed shaking your head. You apologized to Riddle and explained the situation, to which Riddle took off the collar he had given Satan.

"Don't worry, Riddle. I will make sure I check out every one of these books and return them accordingly, I will take them to ramshackle for now as to not cause another...scene and disturb the other students."

Riddle was mildly satisfied with this answer and allowed you to do so, not without mumbling about being called a small cat...but no matter.

"how were you able to do that, Prefect? You made him submit," Riddle pointed out, "Without any magical power," He began to say. Satan quickly interrupted with a tilt of his head and a "Huhh??"

"(y/n) Is one of the most powerful human sorcerers," He pointed out, "Solomon is teaching them himself. They have plenty of magical aptitude," He told Riddle, much to his dismay.

You sighed and ignored the topic and Riddles confusion, dragging the pile of books to check out and leaving the library as fast as possible.

Satan spent the rest of the time in ramshackle sitting in a dorm room he found himself, and read to his hearts content. Not without asking you many questions about this world and the contents of some of these books

Asmodeus

The first one to hug you and twirl you around, and had a very hard time letting go.

When he finally did let go, he was nitpicking about everything.

"Oh my dear just look at those bags underneath your eyes! And that uniform...you just look horrible,"

"Yeah. not the first I've heard that," You sighed. When Asmodeus asked you to elaborate, you explained to him about Vil, the super star of NRC, and the person who liked to remind you how to care for your appearance.

Asmo was upset at first, until he met Vil. Annnddd fell in love. Until Vil pointed out Asmos "strange" choice of outfit, being his school uniform from devildom.

Asmo scowled at this and gave Vil a run down of every flaw Vil had, in the end, Vil actually began to see he was similar to Rook in a way, very observant in a persons design and look. Although Asmo did not have much tact about it.

"(y/n), how did you manage to become friends with such a magical person? He's practically oozing with magical charm," Vil pointed out. Not without Asmos confusion.

"What do you mean?" Asmo asked, "We have a pact! They are rather powerful, one of the many things I absolute love about our (y/n)~" Before you could explain further to Vil what Asmo meant, Rook had walked into the room.

ROOK. FELL. IN. LOVE. WITH. ASMO. Bro was enamored, he was shocked, jaw dropping, and eyes widening. He made it almost his life's mission to discover EVERYTHING about Asmodeus.

"Monsieur! I beg of you, let me study you!" he cried out, "I've never seen someone as mangnifique as you!"

Bruh. Right in front of Vil? Vil was kind of offended to be honest, but Asmo... he was loving this. Finally, somebody here that could appreciate true beauty!

Rook started listing everything he loved about Asmo, and when he asked Asmo where he was from and Asmo mentioned he was a demon, Rook lost. His. Mind.

Asmo went into his demon form, ironically this is when Epel walked in.

"What in tarnation is THAT?!" He cried out in his thick southern accent. Asmo did not like that.

"What do you mean THAT?" He scoffed, going up to Epel.

"Who's this sparkly lookin' guy with the horns? ya don't look like a fae to me..." vil scolded him for using such words, but Epel couldn't help it! He was beyond surprised at this being standing before him in his dorms lounge!

Asmodeus was pretty close to using his charm upon Epel, probably to convince Epel that he was as amazing as Rook pointed him out to be, but you quickly got involved and forced Asmo to stop.

"It's not that big of a deal," You sighed, "We all know how amazing our Asmo is..."

Anyway a little bit of back and forth, and all of the sudden Vil Rook and Asmo were all sitting in a circle like a bunch of little girls at a sleepover talking about Musical theatre, Beauty, and everything else that involved Asmo talking about himself. you and Epel were quickly used as their own little dress up dolls, they managed to find a way to occupy the time by having competitions on which party could make you and Epel look the best with what techniques.

Beelzebub

Coming through that Mirror on an empty stomach was such a bad idea. But not to fear! You knew the perfect person to help!

Trey. you had to beg Trey to make as many desserts as he could and that Beel would be probably the best person to taste test all sorts of things he baked. Trey honestly took you up on this, and whipped up a bunch of things he had been itching to try.

"They are really good, but Lukes treats are the best," Beel said with his mouth full of tart. He began to pick apart what was good and what was bad about every dessert he tried, however that did not satiate his hunger. He was so excited to try every single new thing that this world had to offer.

You guys ended up going to Scarabia, where Kalim was more than happy to share his culture and their food. Jamil ended up cooking a meal fit for a king as asked by Kalim. Kalim and Beel got along so well it was kind of sweet to watch....but eventually the food was all out in a matter of minutes, and Jamil had to talk some sense into Kalim.

"He has a healthy appetite! It's amazing, isn't it Jamil? Haha!"

Jamil was not very amused. It was obvious he was exhausted, so you all parted and said your goodbyes.

Ace Deuce Grim and you ended up going into town and stopping at the most popular restaurants.

"this guy is real beefed up, how did you manage to get so much muscle with an appetite like that?" Ace pointed out. Deuce agreed enthusiastically.

They spent probably two hours asking about all sorts of sports in Devildom and exercises, until Jack walked in and walked over.

"Jack!" You smiled. He walked over and greeted everyone with a gentle "hello," Before introducing him to Beel.

"I wonder who would win in an athletic battle between you guys," Grim pointed out. Their bets were on Jack, but of course you knew better than that. You knew Beel would win by a landslide.

they headed to Savanawclaw, and even Leona ended up getting involved after seeing Beel standing next to you.

"Whos this guy?" He pointed at Beel. You guys introduced each other, and Jack explained that they were about to have an athletic competition. They were going to do runs, hurdles, push ups, pull ups...honestly everything.

"What about a Spell drive competition?" Jack suggested. Leona pointed out that it would not be evenly matched, as you were magicless and Beel wasn't even from here.

"Huh? (Y/N) isn't magicless," Beel defended you, "They are actually really powerful. I mean, enough to have pacts with all of my brothers, even Lucifer" He smiled at you and patted your head. Leona began to laugh at you two, not truly understanding what Beel meant by that. Beels friendly demeanor faltered and he frowned.

He was confident in your abilities, so Leona finally agreed to a spell drive contest. They explained the rules, and began. Leona started out so confident, but was quickly humbled the second Beel turned into his demon form and went all out.

You two walked out victorious, leaving an absolutely shell shocked Leona and Jack behind. You and Beel had perfect teamwork, and won by a landslide. You were even able to showcase some of your magical abilities, something else that was unprecedented by the two NRC students.

"Thank you for sticking up for me," You smiled at Beel, "It's been a while since somebody did that to me.. Even though I had to make you sit because you were using too much of your power. You were gonna destroy the disk!." Beel gave you a warm wide smile before picking you up and holding you into a up into a tight hug.

"I missed you, (y/n). And Nobody should talk bad about you like that!

Belphie

Joined you, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Beel on your outing to eat. Although when you guys ended up splitting ways at the point when you guys left with Jack. Belphie quickly departed to find a good place to sleep at ramshackle. He found a perfect tree for this!

He ran into Malleus. Tall guy, big horns...

'Who're you?" Belphie asked, looking down at the tall Fae from the tree he found to sleep in. Malleus looked up in shock, his green eyes staring at Belphie.

"Are you a new student here?" Malleus inquired, "I wasn't aware that child of man was taking in new students at Ramshackle," He pointed out, folding his arms. Belphie had an unnerved feeling about this guy.

"What do you mean 'child of man'?" Belphie yawned, "Are you talking about (y/n)?"

"Yes, I am," Malleus said, "And you might be?"

"Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Why'd you call (y/n) that?" he frowned.

"Well (y/n) is a human," Malleus pointed out, "I suppose I grew up in a more traditional Fae household, so many of the humans we tend to call "child of man"..." Belphie had no clue what this guy was going on about, but decided it wasn't worth his time. He started to doze off again until Malleus pestered him with another question.

"I came here looking for (y/n), He called up to Belphie, "Might you know where they are?" Belphie began to become slightly irritated at this point. He jumped down from the tree and looked at Malleus in annoyance.

"Why do you wanna know where they are? they'll be back soon," he pointed out.

A little bit of back and forth and passive aggressiveness not gonna lie...it escalated to the point where Belphie became so agitated at this guy and his "fancy" way of talking and the fact malleus kept calling you "child of man" or whatever, he turned into his demon form.

"Oh? A duel?" Malleus chuckled, levitating slightly with his arm lifting up and magic swirling around his hand, "Shall I take it you-"

"Belphie, sit!" Belphie gasped and was suddenly dropped down to the ground, you and Beel walking up to them.

"Oh, hey Malleus. I'm sorry if he was bothering you...what was-"

"ugh. This is so annoying," Belphie growled, "this guy here was calling you weird nicknames, and said you were a magicless human," He pointed out. Malleus looked at you with slight surprise at witnessing you drop Belphie to his knees.

"you...can use magic?" He asked, "How come I was not aware of this?"

"Of course they can use magic, idiot!" Belphie hissed, standing back up and protectively moving to hug you from behind. His head lay upon the crook of your neck, glancing up at Malleus with a light smirk upon his features. He was trying to test him.

With his lips forming into a thin line of frustration, Malleus took a step forward, not without Belphie using his tail protectively in front of you as if warning him to stay back.

"I don't like this guy," He pouted to you. Your tired eyes rolled to the back of your head, giving another apology to Malleus.

The commotion soon got the attention of the other demons, who then gathered in the courtyard and demanding to know why everyone around them was trying to say you were magicless. After a little explaining, each of the brothers were less than forgiving. This entire time you were powerless, and the students had treated you differently for it? Malleus was kind enough to recount a lot of the things the headmaster had put on your shoulders, while you were trying your best to downplay it. A bunch of the other students had ended up gathering around ramshackle as well, witnessing Each and every one of the brothers now in their demon forms, the immense amount of magic traces had caused quite a stir among the students. Even the housewardens had shown up, hearing down the grapevine of the events that were unfolding. If you hadn't done something and done something fast, things could easily go south. So, you did what you thought was all you could do.

"SIT!" You yelled as loud as possible, each of the brothers dropping to the ground with a yelp. The magic power that was gathering around was now coming from...you. Murmurs were heard between the students, eyes of shock filling their eyes and unbelievable amount of students actually had pulled out their wands, obviously feeling threatened by your sudden showcase of strange magic they had never seen before.

"I'm afraid, my dear students, this has gone too far!" A voice cried out in the middle of the chaos. Crowley had walked between his students until he made it to you, staring down upon your figure with a look of annoyance and sigh.

Crowley declared there was a way for you to return home, and summoned the mirror in which you used to get them back in the first place. Lucifer couldn't help but scoff and sneer at the headmaster.

"Now, please explain, why have you suddenly found a way for us to return when you haven't been able to sort a way out in the year our (y/n) has been in this dreadful place?" He roared in anger. Crowley shrunk down and tried to laugh it off, playing it to be nothing short of a coincidence.

"Enough..." you sighed, annoyed, "Let's just get this over with and go back home."

"Indeed! what our prefect said! Although, you will be strongly missed, (y/n). You were incredibly helpful in dealing with- I mean- supporting our students! With you gone, I'm not sure what we will do! Oh Woe is me!"

Ignoring his obvious attempts to keep you there to handle his students, you said your final goodbyes to everyone you had made friendships with. However attached you may have gotten with these students, it was inevitable that you had to return to the Devildom, where you truly belong.

Thus ends your journey with Twisted Wonderland!

----

I'm sorry that ending was a little bit rushed, I was having a hard time figuring out how exactly to go about it! But, despite this, I hope you all enjoyed this despite it's length. If you have any more suggestions or ideas for a crossover, please let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions.

i'm also so bad at writing belphie lol he's my least favorite brother ngl so i'm not that good at embodying his personality. L.

Check out my masterlist for more of my works!

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tabithatwo · 2 years ago

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are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.

so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.

why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.

and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.

jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.

if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)

the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.

callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.

(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)

#this started purely as a shauna shipman psychosis discussion and ended with shauna callie mother daughter dynamics but i'm only human #they are so special to me #as the crazy daughter of a crazy mother that i had to let go of. watching them is a wild experience #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #jackie x shauna #taissa turner #shauna x jackie #jackieshauna #callie sadecki #tai x shauna #lottie matthews #lottie x shauna #yellowjackets #cw psychosis

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lieslab · 11 months ago

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Skz finds you struggling with self-harm

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 10.8k

A/N: This was a request and each member deals with a different type of behavior that can be considered a form of self-harm. To whoever requested this, I'm sorry for taking about a week. In a word document, this is about forty-five pages, so thank you for being patient while waiting. I hope you can find some comfort here <3

_ _ _

Bang Chan:

TW: Cigarettes and brief mention of cancer.

"What is this?" Chan gestured towards you.

"What does it look like?" You grumbled with the end of the cigarette in the corner of your mouth.

You ignored your boyfriend and kept glancing off into the darkened sky. You thought he was asleep as you stepped out onto your balcony, but apparently not. Either he wasn't asleep or you accidentally woke him up when you snuck out of your shared bed.

He stayed quiet while he observed you. You ignored his heavy gaze and pretended he wasn't there. You adjusted the cigarette back to the middle of your mouth. The end glowed a warm orange while you inhaled another mouthful of the smoke.

The oversized hoodie hung off your body. You threw it on hoping it'd catch the scent of nicotine instead of your pajamas. Silence hung over the two of you along with the stars. You didn't utter a word. Quite frankly, you didn't want to tell your boyfriend why you were outside on your balcony smoking a cigarette at 4am.

It was almost like he could read your mind. You exhaled and the tendrils of smoke drifted off into the distance. Realizing this was his chance, Chan broke the silence.

"Do you wanna talk abo-"

"Nope," you cut him off.

He pressed his lips together trying to figure out what to say to you. He knew whatever you were going through was bad. You only turn to cigarettes when life seems unbearable. Too caught up in his own life, he hadn't realized you were struggling so much. Worry and guilt began to nip at him.

He had shifted to wrap his arm around you in the bed, but you weren't there. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a barren bed and your silhouette outside on the balcony. He knew what you were doing the moment he opened the balcony door. He was instantly engulfed by the scent of tobacco.

No wonder you tasted so much like peppermint lately. Chewing peppermint gum, one piece after the next. Showing up to his studio tasting like mouthwash. You brushed your teeth after you smoked. Swishing around mouthwash and chasing the mouth-burning liquid with more minty gum hoping it'd block out the scent.

"Bad day?" He finally offered.

You snickered, "more like a bad life."

His heart squeezed in his chest at your remark. Surely, you didn't associate him with the bad part of your life, did you? Yeah, he was busy a lot because of his job, but what about the times you shared? Was it all bad?

Sensing his worry, you changed your wording.

"It's not a bad life, but things seem to be piling up lately. It's one thing after the next after the next. I purchase a pack of cigarettes and then the nicotine releases dopamine. I know it's bad, but it brings me a state of peace. Is it terrible to just want to relax for a while?"

"No," he admitted after a few silent seconds. "It's not bad, but it's dangerous."

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes. In the brazen moonlight, Chan could see everything. The full moon lit up every feature of your face. Seeing you like this beneath the soft glow, he wanted to smile, but your words twisted him with trepidation.

"I know I should care," you reopened your eyes. You blinked trying to hide the tears building up. "But honestly, I really don't give a shit. It says right on the box that it can cause lung cancer. I already feel rotten enough on the inside, so maybe it's what I deserve."

"Nobody deserves that."

You stared down at the burning cigarette in your hand. Embers drifted into the darkness while others scattered onto the ground below. The rolled paper around the cigarette continued to burn. Your brain begged for you to take another hit of the nicotine, but now your heart was in turmoil.

"You are an adult, you know. You're free to live your life as you wish. No matter what you choose to do, I can't stop you. However, as your significant other, I don't want to see you hurt."

"I know," your voice came out weak. All those emotions you had been suppressing were coming up again. "Can I be honest?"

"Of course, you can."

"I hate the taste of them," you chuckled and dropped the cigarette. The heel of your shoe crushed it into the ground. Your fingers gripped the metal ledge of the fence around the balcony.

Chan didn't utter a sound.

"It's been going on for a while, unfortunately. For a month, at least, and I'm not sure if I can easily stop." You hung your hands together over the edge of the railing.

"That's alright, you don't have to quit cold turkey. Maybe try to wean yourself off of them, okay?"

"Okay."

Tobacco stained your teeth. The soured flavor clung to your tongue. The scent draped over you like a heavy curtain. You bit down on the inside of your cheek wondering how you were going to pull yourself away from the thing you spent the past month finding comfort in.

"You don't have to do it alone," Chan spoke up again. "I'll be right here if you need me. You can talk to me whenever you need to."

You nodded your head.

"Do you want to discuss what made you turn to them in the first place?"

"Not really."

"Then we don't have to do that." He turned back to the moon and changed the topic. "The full moon is beautiful tonight. I don't remember the last time I've been able to stare at the moon like this."

"It's nice."

"Peaceful and quiet."

You mumbled an agreement as a yawn left your mouth.

"You wanna go back inside and get some more sleep?"

"That sounds good."

Not bothered by the scent, Chan walked over and put an arm around your shoulders. The two of you walked back into your bedroom. He locked the balcony door while you pulled off the hoodie you were wearing. You headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

After climbing into the bed, you curled yourself up against your boyfriend, happy that you were able to find someone as patient and understanding as him.

_ _ _

Lee Know:

TW: Using alcohol to cope with problems, depression, and self-hatred.

Lee Know was used to you occasionally drinking. You did it, he did it, and your friends did it. However, when he came home on the third day in a row to find you with a bottle of wine, his eyebrows furrowed.

There you were curled up on your favorite spot on the couch. The large TV sat in front of you and you grinned while watching some raunchy romance show. His eyes scanned the area. A bowl of popcorn sat in your lap. A glass of wine was tucked into your hand. Too enthralled in your show, you didn't hear him come in.

The bright screen lit up the transparent bottle to show that it was nearly gone. You just opened that bottle yesterday, so how was it gone already? He blinked in shock and stepped closer towards you.

He snuck up behind you, without meaning to startle you, and stuck his hands on your shoulders. You let out a yelp and jumped. The popcorn bowl upturned and kernels and popcorn pieces scattered across the carpet.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well, you did," you frowned and stared at the mess. You sighed, placed your glass on the coffee table in front of you, and began to stand up. The world seemed to tilt and you fell forward.

"Woah!" Lee Know jerked forward, grabbed the back of your shirt from over the couch, and yanked you back to safety.

You laughed as you plopped back down on the couch. Your boyfriend frowned at your reaction. If he wouldn't have caught you, you would have hit the coffee table. He kicked off his shoes and climbed over the edge of the couch. You giggled while he pulled you into his grasp.

He leaned back comfortably against the arm of the couch. With you in his arms, he tugged you back against his chest. Your ear was pressed up against his heart. The gentle thrum soothed your soul.

"How much alcohol have you had to drink today?" He began to run a hand through your hair.

You half-shrugged on top of him.

"One glass?"

"More."

"Two?"

"More."

"Three?"

"I don't know."

"Four?"

"Mmh, maybe."

He paused and glanced back over to the bottle of the wine. Last night, it was nearly full, so you drank more than half of it. You were upping your alcohol content steadily. He frowned and stared back at you. You seemed okay the past few days, but clearly something was bothering you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Do you ever hate yourself?"

"Huh?" He was caught off-guard by your comment.

"Do you ever hate yourself?" You repeated. "Lately, I've been feeling like I'm not a very good person."

Lee Know kept watching you. You were pronouncing your words properly, so you must not have been too drunk. He glanced up at the analog clock stuck to the side wall. You were home before him in the early evenings. You had, at least, five hours to drink before he got home.

"Why do you think that you're not a good person?"

"I don't know."

"There must be some reason."

"I feel ugly!" You blurted out. "I feel gross and disgusting about myself. I look at myself in the mirror and I hate what I see. I've been sad and I haven't wanted to get out of bed. I have zero motivation to get out of bed or brush my teeth or do anything."

"Oh?"

"I feel icky inside and out. You tell me all the time that I'm beautiful. You're always there, but I'm not able to see myself like you are. Maybe I feel so gross because it's a struggle to get out of bed. I don't know, but the other day I had a glass of wine and it felt nice and then I had another and I felt okay again."

"So you're using alcohol to attempt to cope?" There was a sadness in Lee Know's voice.

"Uh-huh and you know what?"

"What?"

"It's working very well. I am so light and I feel so good. I feel like I can laugh again. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside."

Lee Know tilted himself closer towards your face. He leaned over you and cupped your cheeks gently. You peeled open your eyes and met his. A goofy grin filled your face at the sudden closeness.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Don't I make you feel warm and fuzzy? Do I have to remind you?"

"Of course, you make me feel that way! You give me butterflies. I love you so much, you don't even know. I can't put it into words how you make me feel."

"So you're feeling bad about yourself?"

"Uh-huh."

"What if I gave you a kiss every time your brain said something bad about you? You stop drinking the wine and I'll replace it with kisses."

His boba eyes stared intently into yours. You blinked in shock. It wasn't often that Lee Know was so touchy with you. He patiently waited for your answer and squished your cheeks a little more. A grin began to stretch across his face. He cooed and squished your cheeks more. You began to giggle at his antics.

"Is that a yes?"

"Uh-huh."

He bent down and gave you a quick upside down kiss. Still tipsy, you squealed in delight. He puckered his lips and did it again. Pulling away, he rubbed your cheeks. "So how was it?"

"I think I need another one."

"Already?" He threw his head back and let out a dramatic groan.

"You said if my brain was saying something bad!"

"That's right, I did say that. So I must prevail in my efforts to comfort the love of my life. Pucker up and get ready for a love bombing."

"A love wh-"

Before you could finish, he leaned down and began placing kisses all over your face. Your laughter only added fuel to his fire. He kept going and going and going until he ran out of air panting. He threw himself back over the arm of the couch gasping for breath.

"More!" You cried out.

"More?" He threw his hands up. "You're just taking advantage of my love!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around you tightly, and squeezed your body. You wiggled, but your arms were pinned to your sides. You whined and squirmed, but you were no match for him.

"What are you doing?"

"Prison of love." He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. "You're here until further notice."

_ _ _

Changbin:

TW: Razors/razor blades, cutting, and self-hatred.

“They couldn’t have grown legs and walked away,” Changbin grumbled. He climbed further into the cabinet, beneath the bathroom sink, and pushed products aside. Dropped down on all fours, his torso was completely inside the darken and confined space.

He was attempting to try and find a pack of his disposable razors, but he couldn’t find any of them. He swore he just bought another pack last week, but they were missing. He pushed aside backup bottles of body wash and shampoo. Diving further into conditioner and cotton balls, he dug back further, but to no avail.

He pushed himself backwards and whacked his head on the top of the cabinet in the process. A loud groan left his mouth and it woke you up. In the room next door, you had fallen asleep early. Exhausted from another day at work, you were defeated by the time you came home. Within seconds of your body hitting the pillow, you were out.

You blinked your bleary eyes and rubbed them wondering what was going on. Through the thin bathroom door, Changbin was mumbling. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he seemed to be upset about something.

As you pushed yourself away from the tangled blankets, Changbin dived back beneath the cabinet to look again. He shoved the small basket of product to the side and when his razors weren’t in the very back, he jerked himself out again. A hand went to the porcelain sink to propel himself up.

Crash!

You stumbled over your feet worried that your boyfriend might have fallen. Picking up your pace, you knocked when you arrived at the door and called out to make sure Changbin was alright. Not hearing a response, you panicked even more.

“I’m coming in,” you called out.

When you stepped inside, you found a teary eyed Changbin staring at the floor. You stepped up beside him quickly wondering what was wrong. On the tile floor, lay the scattered remnants of the bathroom trash can. A shampoo bottle laid beside it.

Right there on top? One of Changbin’s disposable razors was completely dismantled. Twisted blue plastic with a missing razor blade. You made sure to hide it deep within the trash can beneath the snotty tissues and makeup remover wipes. You didn’t take into consideration that the trash can might fall over.

The pieces began to click together in your brain. You had been using Changbin’s razors for a while now. Prying apart the plastic and so desperate to feel something again. You found a friend in the cold metal blade. The stinging sensation somehow seemed to mend your internal wounds.

Humiliation filled you and the guilt of it all crept in. You swallowed the lump in your throat as your own tears filled your eyes. You remained cemented to the floor unable to speak and unable to explain. There was nothing to explain anyways, Changbin knew what you were doing instantly.

The two of you stayed silent. Changbin ran through your behavior the past few days in his head. You stopped wearing pajama shorts to bed, but fall had turned into winter. He didn’t question why you switched your clothes. When you didn’t want to be touched as much, he hadn’t questioned it.

Boundaries and communication were so important to him. He knew not to cross them. The two of you were honest with each other constantly. It helped your relationship flow smoothly, it helped prevent arguments, and it left the two of you satisfied; but this? How long had you been keeping this a secret?

“Why?” He finally got out.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was shaky as you spoke. You felt so small. So helpless. Rather, you let down one of the most important people in your life. Would he see you through the lens that you saw yourself?

He turned around to face you. There was no hint of anger. His face wasn’t twisted and there wasn’t a scowl. Hurt was in his eyes. He reached out and cupped your face again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’ll replace your razors and I won’t do it again.”

“But why?” His thumbs brushed against your cheeks to wipe away tears. “Why are you hurting yourself?” You blurred in his vision.

You blinked rapidly trying to get the tears to stop. You didn’t want to admit you hated yourself. You didn’t admit you found comfort in the pain. You didn’t want to admit any of it. You were stuck at a crossroad.

“Please talk to me.” He waited patiently for you to speak. When you didn’t, he pulled you into his burly arms. Warmth cocooned your body and cradled your soul.

“I didn’t mean to start. I’ve struggled with it before, you already know that.” You sniffled and sucked in a deep breath. ��It got bad again and I just wanted to self-soothe. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

He rubbed your back gently. Your head was tucked beneath his chin. His heartbeat walloped in his chest. “You didn’t disappoint me, you’re hurting inside. You have to learn how to be gentle with yourself, baby. You could never disappoint me.”

More tears filled your eyes. They began to trickle down and soak his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. You let yourself be held by him.

“You’re allowed to hurt and you’re allowed to be sad, but how about we try to do something else that doesn’t harm you? I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You don’t understand how precious your existence is to me. You mean everything to me.”

A strangled sob came from the back of your throat. You broke down completely in his arms. He treated you with such tenderness and love, it made you cry harder. He soothed you quietly while he began listing some of your best qualities.

You cried and cried and cried until you were completely defeated. Everything you had been holding back came up. Beneath your pajama pants, your thighs stung from the fabric brushing up against them. You tried to hide them. You forced yourself into your jeans.

The fabric rubbed and created irritation. The water in the shower hurt. They always hurt. Just as old wounds began to itch and heal, you created new ones to remind yourself just how worthless you were. The cycle had started again and it’d continue until you stopped.

Changbin spoke to you how a mother spoke to her newborn baby. Praising you for the smallest things. Dotting on you and gently rocking you side to side. They say a mother’s heartbeat comforts a baby in the wound. With you pressed up against and hearing Changbin’s heart through your sobs, maybe that’s why you felt comfortable enough to fall apart.

When you finally finished sobbing, you were left breathless and exhausted. Changbin’s heartbeat continued to thrum. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you and Changbin planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

You didn’t object as he picked you up and carried you back to your shared room. Concerned about your well-being still laced him. No matter how much he wanted to continue talking about it, you needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow, he’d help you come up with a better plan to cope, but for now, he’d be by your side until you woke up again.

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Skin picking, hair pulling, anxiety, and blood.

You didn’t realize Hyunjin moved from his spot until you felt his hand gently cup your wrist. You glanced down with confusion etched onto your face. He gave you a reassuring smile before he spoke. “You’re doing it again.”

You glanced down with a frown. Sure enough, you were doing it again without realizing it. Lost in your overwhelming thoughts, you began to pick at the scratch on your arm. Your sharpened nails plucked at the skin. The darkened red bits of healing wounds were reopened. A fresh trail of trickling blood steadily streaked down your arm.

“Ah, shit.”

You stood up and mumbled an apology. In the bathroom, you began washing your hands in the bathroom sink, so you could address the problem. Out in the kitchen, Hyunjin was doing the same thing. With hands still damp from hastily drying them with the kitchen towel, he walked into the bathroom and gently tugged your wrist again.

The uncomfortable feeling of humiliation crept inside as Hyunjin observed your bleeding arm. Lately, you found yourself doing things without even realizing it. Digging your nails along your skin and creating scratches. Gnawing at the sides of your nails and ripping off perfectly healthy skin.

A few days ago, you began to pluck at the end of your eyebrow. You didn’t realize it until Hyunjin came home and pointed it out. On the side of your head, beneath a top layer of hair, there was a bald patch growing back. It never really registered what you were doing until it was too late.

Wound tight with anxiety, you floated away from reality and let yourself meander a river of worry. Your fingers moved without realizing it. Your body was desperate to soothe itself even when you were consciously away from the driver’s seat of your brain.

Hyunjin didn’t mind pointing it out. He knew how you could be and if anything, he was happy he could get you to stop. Pulling you out of that cloudy blank daze and helping bring you back to reality. He was careful with every movement. He didn’t want to startle or injure you more.

“You really don’t have to do this,” you mumbled.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

You stayed silent and let him rinse the blood off your arm. You watched him clean up, disinfect, and bandage the scratch on your forearm. It had been healing for the past few days. The other day, you dug your nails into the delicate skin. When you scraped your nails down, your skin came with it. Pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of warm blood beneath your fingers, you realized you had injured yourself yet again.

You knew it was nothing to be ashamed of. Hyunjin was a constant reminder of that. There was no judgment from him whatsoever. However, every time he caught you doing it, you felt like a child upsetting a parent. He hadn’t made it known that he was annoyed with your behavior, but you were sure he felt that way deep down.

The thought nagged at you while he threw the last bits of band-aid paper into the trash can. He hummed softly beneath his breath and washed his hands like it wasn’t a big deal. Suds filled his hands and the scent of citrus hit your nose.

“Why are you never mad at me?” You finally snapped. You didn’t mean for it to come off so snarky, but you didn’t understand why he was so cool, calm, and collected about your behavior. In your head, it was inexcusable.

“Why would I be?” He asked cooly. His face remained neutral and he dried his hands on a hand towel.

“Aren’t you annoyed or angry or, I don’t know, upset maybe? Sometimes I’m aware I do it, but I continue doing it. I don’t care if it hurts. It just….I don’t know!” You threw up your hands exasperated. “Why are you so okay with it?”

Hyunjin eyed you for a moment. You still couldn’t read his thoughts. He kept his face neutral until he cocked his head to the side. “What if it was me?”

“Huh?”

“If I did what you did. If I picked and plucked and tore and scraped and scratched; would you be annoyed or upset?”

“No!” Your head shook frantically. “Of course, I wouldn’t be like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. I love you and you deserve compassion. I’d never want you to feel like you were doing something wrong and I-” You paused for a moment. “Oh.”

The side of Hyunjin’s lips tugged into the start of a smile. “Yeah, exactly. Do I think you should do it? No, but I understand why you’re doing it.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” you finally admitted.

“I was doing some research the other day and they said it helps if you wear gloves. However, I know that’s not always a possibility because you hate gloves. There was another article I found about keeping your hands busy.”

“So like a stress ball?”

“That’s one option, but I was thinking of something else.” He laced his fingers through yours and began to pull you away from the bathroom. “You know how you always like my art? You’re always wishing you could create art as well as I do?”

“Yeah.”

He pulled you into your bedroom and retrieved a plastic bag from beneath the bed. He handed it to you and let you open it. You stared at it cautiously and then glanced up at him.

“Go ahead and open it. It’s not going to hurt you or anything. Come on,” he grinned, “you’ll love it.”

You stuck your hand inside and began to pull out objects. A sketchpad was followed by a bright pink eraser and a pack of fancy pencils Hyunjin always used to create sketches. He beamed when a smile appeared on your face.

“You got these for me?”

“You’ve been wanting to do art for a while now. I can help teach you and I created a YouTube video playlist of videos I first watched when I created art. When I’m not around, you’ll be able to watch them and learn.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off.

“I know it might not help entirely, but it’s a good distraction. If you start this and don’t like it, I’ve been talking to Felix. He sent over some of the recipes he makes a lot. Maybe you could give baking a shot?” He offered.

Tears began to fill your eyes from the warmth that fluttered through your heart.

“What?” His face fell. “Do you not like this? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He rushed towards you and began to wipe away your tears. “I don’t want to seem overbearing and like I’m trying to fix you. That’s not what I’m trying to do, I swear! I-I just want to help you.”

You laughed at his distress. He paused upon seeing your reaction. You sniffled and shook your head. Pulling away, you began to speak.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m not sad, I’m so happy. You didn’t have to do all this for me. I’m so grateful and I feel so overwhelmed.”

“So they’re happy tears?”

You nodded and laughed again. More tears streamed down your cheeks. A smile began to grow on Hyunjin’s face again.

“Thank you for caring about me.”

“I’ll always care about you.” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll do anything to see you happy. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

_ _ _

Han:

TW: Gambling and gambling addiction.

The question sat unspoken on your tongue. You knew what you were doing was wrong and yet you couldn’t stop yourself. You shifted in your spot on the couch for a fourth time trying to gather up the courage to ask.

Your boyfriend’s eyes were glued to the latest anime the two of you had been watching. He was clueless about your antics. You sucked in a deep breath and called out his name. When he didn’t respond, you called his name a little louder.

He snapped his head towards you with his big eyes and round cheeks. Even without meaning to, your boyfriend was attractive. You pushed away the thought and focused back on the task at hand.

“Can I ask for a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

In the background, the characters in the anime continued fighting each other. Brightly colored hair flung around and over dramatic sound effects whirled. Fists flew and bodies bucked. Screams of despair from the hero and bouts of anger from the villain continued.

The anime reminded you of yourself. You were the hero and you were the villain. Always flipping back and forth between the two, a switch toggled, but it never flipped fully. You were reckless with life decisions. Messy without thinking things through. Acting in the heat of the moment without thinking about the effects.

“Can I borrow five-hundred dollars?”

“Huh?” Han’s eyes widened in shock. “Five…hundred? What? Why?”

Your eyes met the ground. You felt pathetic. Your form of self-harm wasn’t physically damaging your body. You didn’t turn to substances to cope with things. You threw yourself into gambling instead. Every paycheck, you went through money like water. You were a pro at self-sabotaging.

You managed to keep just enough to make ends meet and then you’d blow the rest of it. Chasing the high of winning, you didn’t know how to stop. The worst part? You were pretty decent at it. Whether it was making bets with your friends about small things or feeding freshly dispensed ATM cash into slot machines at the casino, you were good.

Lately, you had been on a winning streak. The cash was pooling in. Over and over again you won and each time, the dopamine rush was more intense than the last. You were seeing green, at least, until greed brought you to your knees.

You bet everything in the heat of the moment. You bet it all and within a few seconds, you lost everything. It was there and then it was gone. Even worse, you realized you hadn’t put the money aside for your half of the rent. You were royally fucked and with no more money to bet to try and make some of it back, you were screwed.

You didn’t leave the casino giddy with excitement. You didn’t sprint to the front desk to redeem your money from the ticket in your hand happily. You didn’t relish the fresh air outside with loaded pockets feeling unstoppable. You left with tears in your eyes and humiliation coursing through your veins.

“Five-hundred?” Han repeated again, completely baffled. He reached over, paused the show, and sat up. “Baby, why do you need five-hundred dollars? Did something happen?”

You could have lied. You could have said something went wrong with the payroll at work. You could have said the system broke and your paycheck would be delayed. You could have pretended your bank account was hacked. As you ran through the lies in your head, they made you feel even more grimy and worthless.

Heart taught with distress, you squeezed your eyes shut and balled your hands into fists. Your nails dug into your palms. This was your fault. You did this. You made your bed and now you’d have to lie in it.

“I really fucked up,” you finally admitted. You stayed silent for a few moments. You weren’t sure how Han would react to your admission of guilt. You let out a sigh before you opened your eyes and spoke again. “I think I have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Han stretched forward. He laid down on his stomach and tucked his palms beneath his head. He tilted his head up to stare at you from his position. “Anything I can help with?”

“I might have gambled all my money away.”

“You what?”

“I know it sounds bad.” You were sheepish to speak. “I forgot to set aside rent money. I know it’s no excuse, but it left my mind.”

Han stared at you without a word. You were too afraid to glance over at him. Your eyes never left the floor.

“So the five-hundred dollars is to cover my half of the rent. I promise I’ll pay you back!” You peeked over at him. Eyes filled with desperation, you hoped he’d understand. “I don’t like asking you for assistance, but our landlord won’t budge on the rent being due at the end of this week and I don’t get paid until next week.”

“Did you just start this or…” He trailed off.

“It’s been happening for a few months. When I hang out with my friends, we go to the casinos and stuff. It was really fun and before I knew it, I was hooked on it. I couldn’t stop it no matter how hard I tried.”

“Of course, I’ll cover your part of the rent.”

Relief filled your veins.

“But.”

“But?”

“But it sounds like this is a big issue. This was a pretty big incident that happened to you. What would happen if this occurs again and there’s nobody there to help you?”

You frowned and shifted once more uncomfortably beneath the weight of his gaze. “Honestly, I never really thought about it. I think I might be obsessed with it. I live for the feeling of being a winner.”

“Don’t you think you should stop before you become a loser?”

Your face fell at his words. He scooted closer to you and scooped you up to his chest. You could barely breathe as his arms constricted around you.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, but this is concerning. I care about you and I don’t want to see you lose everything. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

You weakly nodded your head. He clutched to you tightly in the silence. The anime was still paused in the background. A fist froze in mid-air as it was ready to slam into the villain who stood with wide eyes of terror. His fingers found the ends of your hair and he began to twirl his fingers around it.

“Han?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. I’ve been doing it for a while now. I thought I’d be able to give it up, but it’s like an itch that won’t go away.”

He paused for a moment before he hummed. His tongue clicked while he thought about the situation. His fingers lazily tapped along your spine. You laid with your head on his chest. He sat sideways on the couch while he held you.

“I’ve heard that there are some therapists that specialize in therapy for gambling addicts.”

The air was knocked from your lungs. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You stiffened in his arms at the words. Shame filled you once more. That’s exactly what you were, you were an addict. This whole time you were afraid to label it, but that’s what it was.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel pathetic.”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Han clutched you tighter. “A lot of people struggle with addictions. It doesn’t mean you’re worth any less to me. If anything, I’m proud of you for coming to me with this problem. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem and you’re right there.”

“Your addiction doesn’t define you,” he continued. “We all struggle with a lot of different things. It can come in different varieties and all shapes and sizes. You don’t have to be ashamed of something that’s so normal.”

“I don’t think this is normal.”

“Not for everyone, no. However, I’m sure there’s thousands of people out there just like you. Some people are in denial and don’t want to admit it. Others are afraid and some feel like they have nobody to turn to. Everyone has their reasons and I’m sure you have yours.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net. They eased some of your anxiety about the whole situation. You mumbled an apology for everything and he reassured you that it’d be okay. He stared at you with such love and admiration, even when you weren’t paying attention to it.

“So how about we finish our anime and we can figure everything out after this episode?”

“You want to see who wins the battle, don’t you?” A smirk began to appear on your face.

“Maybe just a little.”

“You might want to watch, at least, the next two episodes.”

“You already know what happens?”

“Nope, I’m just betting on the fight being cut early and something dramatic happening.”

He stared at you unamused and despite the situation that had bloomed due to your actions, all you could do was laugh at your own word-play.

_ _ _

Felix:

TW: Overworking, caffeine addiction, and anxiety.

A frown filled Felix’s face when he laid his eyes upon you. He arrived home late tonight due to a few extra late dance practices. He expected to find you asleep in your bed, but instead you were hunched over your desk in the pitch black.

The bright light of your laptop illuminated your face while your fingers moved over the keys. Your eyes were narrowed and you were stuck in a trance. Beside you, three empty energy drinks sat. A fourth was directly beside you and half drank.

This morning, there weren’t any on the desk. He made sure of that because he removed them and tossed them into the recycling bin after you left for work. He ventured further into the room, let his bag fall towards the ground, and began to speak.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

He was met by the sound of you typing. The white light from your laptop highlighted the deep bags from beneath your eyes. You felt like your brain was melting, but the high caffeine content kept you going. You weren’t behind on work, in fact, you were ahead of everything.

You worked a normal nine to five and then came home and worked some more. Sometimes your line of work required you to do extra work at home and sometimes you just wanted to work ahead. Felix often tried to get you to lay off overworking yourself, but you never listened.

You had been like this for the past two weeks. You barely ate and slept. You were always hunched over your laptop. Emailing coworkers and upper management. Passing and trading reports back and forth. Filing and submitting different claims. Making phone calls, so on, and so forth.

Felix’s shoulders slumped when you didn’t respond. Just looking at the purple bags looming beneath your eyes made him tired. He let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes.

“Baby, come on. You can finish this in the morning. You’ve been working all day and you need to get some sleep.”

You blinked upon hearing the voice and briefly glanced over at your boyfriend. His eyes were half closed with sleepiness. It was past one in the morning. You gazed down at the clock on your screen.

“Go ahead and get in bed. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just let me finish up this report real quick.” You went back to your screen and continued to type.

Felix let out a sigh, but went about his evening routine. He slipped into pajamas, completed his skincare routine, brushed his teeth, and slipped into the bed. It was cold without the warmth of your body. His head slumped against the pillow defeatedly and he waited for you.

And he waited and he waited and then he waited some more. He tossed to one side and then the other. He tried to lay on his back and then he tried to sleep on his stomach. Haunted by the quick pecking of your laptop keyboard, he couldn’t get himself to sleep.

He huffed slightly annoyed, shoved the blankets away from his legs, and he sat up. “Baby, are you coming to bed? You said you’d only take a few more minutes.” He glanced over at the clock beside him. “It’s been nearly a half hour since then.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you responded absentmindedly. Your eyes were bloodshot and your spine ached. You tilted your neck to the side and small pops sounded. Ignoring them, you took another sip of your energy drink, and went back to typing.

Felix’s eyes narrowed and daggers hit your back. His arms crossed over his chest. You were unaware as you continued typing on your laptop. After nearly another minute of silence, he finally shoved himself up.

Unbeknownst to you, he left your bedroom and headed for the living room. He wasted no time shutting off the internet router box and slipped back into your bedroom without a sound. It didn’t take long until you frantically clicked your mouse and let out a groan.

“Something wrong?”

“The internet went out in the middle of my report!”

“That sucks.” His voice held no sympathy. “We’ll figure it out in the morning. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

You grumbled, but eventually shut your laptop and climbed into the bed. Happily, he curled up into the bed beside you and buried his head into your chest. It didn’t take long before he fell asleep due to exhaustion, but you couldn’t.

The caffeine had you wired. You were wound up and didn’t want to sit still. You laid there for a while to make sure Felix was fully asleep. Once you were sure he was out, you slipped out of bed and ventured out into the living room. You reset the router and within minutes, you were back online.

Nearly an hour later, Felix was well aware that you weren’t there. He woke up and reached out to cuddle you, but you were gone. He sat up wondering where you were. Upon realizing you weren’t in the bedroom, he went out to look for you.

That’s when he found you in the living room with two more energy drinks beside you. You were sipping a third one. Felix was flabbergasted at your behavior. How much caffeine was cruising through your veins?

“Baby?”

You stopped typing and glanced up to face your boyfriend. You paused and meekly smiled at his sudden appearance. “Hi?”

His arms crossed over his chest and your heart sunk. He stared at you without a word. You slowly put down the energy drink on the coffee table.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“What?”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“What are you talking about?”

“How many energy drinks have you had today?”

“I-” You paused to think about his question. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Felix, it’s not that big of a deal. I always drink energy drinks. Calm down and go back to bed. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“No. Put your laptop down and let’s go. You’re going to bed. Do you know how many days this has happened? Multiple.”

“You’re being irrational!” Your voice started to rise. “Stop being so fucking dramatic! God, they’re just energy drinks, Felix! It’s not like they’re going to kill me!”

“Are you hearing yourself?”

You rubbed your sleepy eyes and let out an annoyed groan. “Can’t you just leave me alone? Why do you care so much? I’m doing my job!”

“Part of your job is to take care of yourself as a person! When was the last time you got eight hours of sleep? When was the last time you had a decent meal?” His voice began to crack. Tears started to fill his eyes. “When was the last time you were happy and not slung over your computer?”

You felt like you had been slapped in the face by his words. Your mouth went dry, almost like you inhaled a mouthful of sand. You wanted to say something back, but there was nothing you could use to justify yourself.

“Why don’t you care about yourself the way I care about you?” His bottom lip quivered. “You’re always telling me to take care of myself. You’re always making sure I’m not overworking myself, but what about you? I don’t want you to die.”

Tears trickled down his freckled cheeks. He hadn’t meant to cry, but he was frustrated. Why couldn’t you see yourself like he could? Why didn’t you care? Why weren’t you listening to him?

“Felix,” your voice came out softer.

He shook his head and blinked rapidly to get rid of the tears. “I’m going back to bed. You can just stay here sipping your energy drinks and overworking yourself. When you collapse with a heart attack, don’t come crying to me.” He stormed back towards your room upset with your behavior.

The slam of your bedroom door caused you to jump. You looked down at the energy drinks you were consuming and guilt began to fill you. He was right. He was right about all of it. You were absolutely miserable.

The caffeine made you shaky and it spiked your anxiety. You were so dependent on it, if you didn’t have any, you started to develop a throbbing headache. You became aware of your heart rapidly beating in your chest. How much longer could you keep up this behavior before it burst?

With a sigh, you shut your laptop and pushed it onto the coffee table. You walked back to the room you shared with Felix. Shame filled you once more. Quietly, you opened the bedroom door and stepped inside.

Felix was turned away from your side of the bed. He was facing the wall with his arms still crossed over his chest. Silent tears flooded down his cheeks still. You weren’t sure if he was awake or not, so you softly called his name.

“What?” His voice wasn’t angry anymore. He was completely defeated.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t realize my behavior was upsetting you so much. I didn’t think it was making you worry. I’m sorry for yelling at you. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

There was silence for a while until he spoke again. “I’ll always worry about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Part of our relationship is to look out for one another.”

You padded over and slipped beneath the covers. Once he felt the bed stop shifting, he spun around so he could face you. The dim light from a nearby lamp caused a soft yellow glow to overcast. There were tears still in his eyes. They were smeared along his cheeks.

Your heart hurt at the sight of him. He moved closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbled into your skin and the vibrations caused tingles to run through you.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I swear. I sent an email to my boss and told her I wouldn’t be there tomorrow. You have the day off, right?”

“Mmhm.”

“Let’s spend the day together, yeah?”

He pulled away from you. His eyes sparkled as they met yours. “Really?”

You nodded your head before you leaned over and kissed his cheek. A rosy blush dusted the tops of them. “You wanna help me get rid of my energy drink stash tomorrow?”

“You have a stash?”

“I always have a stash.”

“You’re not gonna get mad?”

“No. You’re right, I need to stop. I kinda feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. It’s beating so fast right now.”

“Or maybe that’s just because I’m here.” A cheesy grin filled his face. He leaned up and kissed your cheek this time.

“Yeah, maybe it’s just because you’re here.”

He snuggled back down into the crook of your neck. You let out a soft sigh at his warmth. It didn’t take long until you both fell asleep tangled around each other.

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Starvation, disordered eating, binging, and poor self esteem/body image.

Seungmin chewed his instant noodles peacefully across from you. With a fork in one hand and his phone in the other, he was content while scrolling through social media. On the other side of the table, you sipped your glass of ice water and did the same.

The only difference was that you did not have instant noodles in front of you. You sat up straight at the kitchen table with your fingers digging into your plastic cup. Condensation pooled against your fingers and left a ring along the wood. You scrolled through your social media too.

The scent of beef broth filled your nostrils. Your empty stomach twisted and contorted. It rumbled for the third time. You shifted in your chair and continued scrolling through your phone. Your fingers paled as you dug them into your cup tighter.

You silently salivated in your seat. The things you’d do to have a single bite of your boyfriend’s noodles; the warmth of flavorful sodium filled broth lining your stomach. Your teeth bit down onto your bottom lip once again.

The feeling of hunger was sharp and dull. Your stomach searched for food, but it had nothing. The feeling of cold water pooling in the bottom of your stomach filled you with a sense of pride. You were starving, yeah, but you had self control. In your brain, this was a win.

When your stomach roared again, Seungmin glanced over the top of his phone. He eyed you suspiciously. Lately, you seemed to be pushing away food. He didn’t talk about it much because he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

After all, he had been on his own fair share of diets. He knew they could be difficult, but you never mentioned a diet. In fact, he hadn’t seen you eat anything recently. Realizing this, a frown filled his face.

You glanced up at the feeling of eyes on you. When your eyes met Seungmin’s, you raised an eyebrow. He copied your expression without a word.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

Your eyes went back down to the instant noodles. He picked up another forkful of them. Noodles snaked through the fork prongs and dripped with broth. You pulled your eyes away and shook your head. Your eyes went back to your phone and you swallowed another mouthful of cold water.

He glanced at his noodles and then back to you. Down to his noodles and back to you. When your stomach cried out again, his eyes went back to you for a final time. This time he blurted it out without warning.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit. Your stomach has been roaring like a lion for the past five minutes. You’re starving, so why aren’t you eating?” You kept your eyes secured to your phone. “Talk to me, babe.”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the phone. You didn’t put it down because you were too afraid you’d spill and that’d ruin everything. You gave a slight head shake and went back to scrolling.

Seungmin sighed, got up, and began rummaging through the cupboards. You watched with curious eyes while he pulled out another cup of instant ramen. You tried to ignore him, but when he added hot water, the smell of beef broth caused your stomach to rumble once more.

You cursed beneath your breath and set your phone down. As you pushed yourself back, the wooden legs of your chair scraped against the ground. Seungmin turned around, alerted by the noise, to find you leaving the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bedroom.”

“No you’re not. Get back here and sit down. We’re going to have a conversation about why you’re not eating. Sit your ass in the chair.”

“But I-”

“No. Sit down and shut up.” He placed the cup of noodles in the spot where you were sitting. His eyes narrowed while he stared at you.

You wanted to turn around and ignore him. When Seungmin made up his mind, he made up his mind. There was no use in running away from the problem. He’d hunt you down and figure out the root of the problem anyway.

You sighed and sat back down. He pushed a fork over to you and plopped down in his own seat. You stared down at the cup of noodles and your mind began to wander.

How many calories were in it? How much sodium? What if this single cup of noodles caused you to lose control? What if this single meal caused you to spiral into a binge? On and on your internal thoughts went and Seungmin had no idea.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry,” you repeated.

He crossed his arms over his chest and waited in silence for your real answer. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You shifted beneath his eyes again. He knew exactly how to make you squirm.

“I don’t feel like I deserve to eat,” you meekly admitted. You didn’t meet his eyes. You kept staring at the steam rising from the cup of noodles.

“Why not?”

You shrugged, but then continued anyway. “I feel like I deserved to be punished for not being good enough.” Your fingers played with the ends of your hoodie sleeves.

“Not good enough? What do you mean you’re not good enough? What are you talking about?”

“I could be better. My body isn’t in the best shape right now. It’s a simple way to lose weight. Honestly, I kind of like the feeling of starving. It makes me feel strangely powerful.”

“But you have to eat.” He leaned forward and reached his hand out. He was gentle as he cupped his hand over yours. “How are you going to have the strength to get through your days without food?”

You shrugged your shoulders again. It felt pathetic when you said it out loud. Your stomach continued rumbling. The scent of beef broth was overwhelming now that it was closer.

“How long has this been going on?”

“It just started this week.”

Seungmin stared at you wondering how he could help you. He knew about eating disorders, but he didn’t know how to help you. The answer seemed so simple to him, but your brain wasn’t wired like his was.

Food was not fuel for you, it was a daily challenge; a struggle. A battle of binging and starvation. Something you loved and loathed at the exact same time. It was gluttony, but perfection; a twisted combination of the two. You never seemed to find middle ground.

“That notebook that you’ve been writing in recently in our bedroom. You’ve been counting calories, haven’t you?”

You didn’t have to respond. Seungmin already knew the answer. A frown filled his face. The noodles were beginning to lose their warmth.

“Do you trust me?” He suddenly asked.

“Of course, I trust you. What kind of question is that? I’m dating you, obviously I trust you.”

“Can I make you food from now on? Not every meal, but just one a day, so I know you’re eating something. It’d make me feel better.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t want to agree, but you also didn’t want this to spiral out of control and funnel into something you lost yourself completely to. The question weighed heavily on your mind. He was asking you to give up control to the one thing that you could control.

“Can we try it for one day?” His voice softened. “One day and if you don’t like it, we can figure out something else.”

You finally nodded your head slowly. Your eyes wandered down to the fork beside you. You let out a soft sigh before you picked it up, twisted it into the cup of noodles, and took a bite. Flavor exploded on your tongue. You relished the taste with closed eyes.

“How is it?”

“It’s really good.”

“I’m glad I didn’t decide to poison it then.”

“Seungmin!”

He let out a laugh and sat back. A small smile appeared on your face. He kept you busy with conversation, so your mind couldn’t go back to focusing on your food. Eventually, you managed to eat half of them before you pushed them away. Seungmin allowed it without complaint.

“Whoops, I think you got something here.” He leaned across the table and began to reach for your shirt.

You looked down to see what it was, but before you could see, he reached up and flicked the end of your nose.

You let out a yelp and pulled away. Shooting him a glare, he could only laugh in amusement. He always knew how to keep you on your toes.

_ _ _

I.N:

TW: Doom scrolling and self-isolation.

The world was on fire. Maybe not physically, but that’s what it felt like. You had fallen into the toxic cycle of doom scrolling again. Climate change, war, protests, violence, politics, upcoming elections, riots, and death. You flipped through your TikTok page and soaked it up like a sponge.

Swipe. Like. Swipe. Like. Swipe. Like. Swipe. Like.

The algorithm was a little too good at its job. The moment you began liking content about one issue, more videos appeared. Soon there was another and another and another until your TikTok page was a manifesto of doom and gloom.

The memes went away. The animal videos went away. The videos about your hobbies and interests went away. The videos from your favorite creators went away. Even videos about your boyfriend’s band disappeared.

The more you scrolled, the worse you felt. How could you live at a time like this? A time when the world was flooded with such chaos. Man made disasters, disease outbreaks, deadly weather events, and crime. Murders, shootings, stabbings, kidnappings, and so on. Another child dead, another place shot up, and another country suffering.

How could you not be sad? How could you not live with depression? How were you supposed to go on living with the realization that there was so much suffering? Why weren’t people nicer? Why are humans cruel to one another? When did humans lose their humanity?

Eventually, you turned off your phone and let it fall onto the side of the bed. Tears filled your eyes when you rethought about it. So many stories about higher powers out there. Ancient gods and goddesses, magnificent unearthly creators passed down from generation to generation, and yet suffering still existed. Why?

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it wasn’t working. You reached a hand from beneath your warm blanket and wiped away your tears. You felt guilty for feeling so upset about everything. You should have been thankful that you were able to live the life you lived, but you still felt conflicted about the extent of suffering. None of it was fair.

I.N let himself into the apartment he shared with you. He kicked off his shoes and let out a sigh of relief glad to be home. He knew you weren’t home tonight and you probably wouldn’t be home for a while. You told him you were going out with friends earlier.

Lately, you seemed a little down, so he was happy you were finally getting back out there. You loved your friends dearly and they loved you. Besides, you could use a bit of cheering up.

He hummed to himself and moved throughout the house. He walked directly into the bedroom ready to shower and dress in comfortable pajamas. All of his plans crashed when he heard sniffling as he opened the door. He flipped on the light and there you were curled into a ball in your bed. You squeezed your eyes shut at the bright lights.

“Sorry about that, baby.” He flipped the main switch back off and flipped on the closet light instead. The too bright white light disappeared and was replaced with a softer lighting. “I thought you were going out to hang out with your friends.”

“I was going to, but I called off.” Your voice wobbled slightly. You sniffled again and pawed at your eyes.

Upon seeing your teary eyes, he walked over and slipped into the bed beside you. He pulled the covers away from you and tucked himself right beside you. You wanted to cry at his actions, but you managed to keep your tears back.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen at work or something? Did one of your friends say something?” He studied your face with concern.

You shook your head and sniffled again. “Do you ever just realize how bad everything is in the world? There’s so much death and destruction.” Tears filled your eyes once more. “How are we supposed to deal with it?”

He knew what you were talking about instantly. You did this sometimes. Sometimes he caught you doom scrolling and stopped you. He often distracted you from it with things like your Nintendo Switches or TV shows. You must have started doom scrolling when he was away.

“The ice is melting in Antarctica and the polar bears…” You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence, as your bottom lip quivered.

You wore your heart on your sleeve. Empathy was a bittersweet thing for you. You were born with too much of it and you didn’t know how to turn it off. Your heart went out to everyone and everything. Even in the cruelest people, you were able to find empathy in them.

I.N pulled you into his arms and wrapped them around your torso. You buried your head into his chest. He gently rubbed a hand along your back.

“You know, animals are very good at adapting to a variety of situations. A lot of them are more intelligent than we realize. I’m sure the polar bears are the same way.”

That was the thing about Jeongin. He never belittled you for being empathetic. He never called you too sensitive or a crybaby. He didn’t brush away your concerns about things. He listened to your rambles patiently and tried his best to help alter and adjust the way you viewed things.

You didn’t like your empathy, but he thought it was a gift. You thought about things that he didn’t. You looked at the world with such kindness and compassion. You could easily befriend a stranger if you wanted to. You provided him with a different outlook on life.

“It’s all so sad. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why are we letting people suffer?”

“I wish I knew why, but I don’t know. Unfortunately, life isn’t fair to everyone. It really sucks, huh?”

“I hate it,” you grumbled. “I hate being stuck here and not being able to do anything about it.” A sigh escaped your lips.

“What happened with your friends?”

“I called off. I felt worthless, so I told them I wasn’t feeling good. I didn’t want to tell them what was really bothering me.”

“Why don’t you go hang out with them? I’m sure they want to see you. You said they’ve been texting you about how much they miss you recently. I’m sure it’d be a good distraction for you.”

“You’re right, but I don’t know. They’re already hanging out and they think I’m sick. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You could tell them you’re feeling better.” His fingers found your hair and began playing with it. He enjoyed the feathery feeling between his fingers.

“Can you come with me?”

“Do you want that?”

“Honestly, yeah. We haven’t been anywhere recently. They’ve been asking about you too.”

“I’d be happy to tag along. Where are they? Dinner or something?”

You pushed yourself up off his lap. “They’re actually bowling right now.” Feeling a bit better, you stood up from the bed. The previous thoughts of earlier were in the back of your head now.

“Have you ever bowled before?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“If I say yes, you’ll know I’ve had an advantage. If I say no, then you’ll know I haven’t, so the answer is maybe.”

“I’m gonna beat you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“The loser gets to let the other person pick out their outfits for a week, deal?” I.N asked.

“You’re on!” You rushed out the bedroom door. You sprinted towards the hall to grab your shoes from the sneaker shelf. “Let’s go!”

I.N smiled to himself as he went after you. He might not have done much, but, at least, he could help distract you from everything on your mind. He put on his shoes and hurried to follow you out the door.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Taglist: @fairytaleskiess

Masterlist

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #kpop fanfic #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz fanfic #fanfic writing

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itsa-me-lily · 13 days ago

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Soooooo....This was not how I originally planned on how y'all shared a bed for the first time...buuuuuuuuuuuuuut this is what you got. I tried some stuff, I think they worked but not 100% sure. Honestly I could way to post this in the morning and give it another look over, but I really don't want to wait that long, and I'm worried I'll over think it.

As always here's the rest of Simon & Thimble Playlist

Here's the MPS Au Masterlist

Content warning; Death, violence, nightmare, kind of very vague description of panicking? Let me know if I miss anything

The first time the two of you actually share a bed, only one of you is sleeping. It's been nearly six months since you both signed your marriage license. And even though the time spent together under the same roof can probably only add up to a couple months, it hasn't been terrible.

Sure there's the period of growing pains, learning to co-exist with another human being when you're so used to being alone. Petty arguments and even pettier revenges. Hell you even had to go and explain your sex life, or lack there of, to the entirety of Simon's team. But even with the ups and downs, it hasn't not been worth it.

The night you share a bed, Simon has been back from a mission for a week now. It wasn't good. Really none of them are actually good, just varying degrees of what can be shoved down and ignored. Hostages were involved, a fire fight broke out. Their rescue mission became a recovery one.

Death wasn't something new to any of them. It clung to their skin. Ghost practically exuded it. He was the omen of the end to everyone who stood against him. At times he was judge, jury, and especially executioner. Ghost was a walking death. But there was something that knocked him off kilter, once the shooting had stopped and the team started the futile task of checking for survivors.

The woman looked nothing like you, really there wasn't anything similar and yet it was her eyes. Once Ghost caught sight of her eyes Simon felt something rattle in his chest. For some reason her eyes reminded Simon of yours. Only hers were dull now, lacking any spark that showed a hint of life. Simon stared for a second too long before crouching down to gently close her eyes. Ghost stood back up to continue checking. He didn't look at any other eyes.

When he came back, Simon wouldn't really look at you. His eyes would flicker to your face for a millisecond at a time, to show he was listening as much as he could, but for the most part it felt like he was trying to burn a hole into your left ear.

You just figure that he's being...well, Simon. Sometimes he went from not making a lot of eye contact to staring into the depth of your soul to make you confess every sin you even thought of committing. Just something that made him...him.

He was grateful you didn't push. He couldn't explain why he dreaded the idea of looking into your eyes. Well he could guess a theory or two, but that would mean admitting that maybe, maybe you meant a sliver of something. It all came to a head though with the nightmare.

Ghost was back in the firefight, ears ringing from the number of shots being fired and screaming being torn from people's throat. It felt like it would be unending, a vortex of sound and violence that would swallow him whole. Until it didn't. Until it suddenly became so quiet he could hear his heart and breathing.

Only...it wasn't his breathing.

His breaths weren't uneven struggles that had that wet struggling sound.

Ghost wasn't in control of his feet as he started moving forward, or when he stopped.

Ghost wasn't in control of his neck as he started to look down at what was making that struggling wet sound.

Ghost couldn't make himself stop from looking at you laying on the ground, chest making sad futile efforts to keep pulling in breath to keep you alive. Until it didn't

Ghost couldn't avert his eyes when they met yours; cold, empty, and dead.

Simon woke up choking on a gasp, fingers clutching the handmade blankets as if each stitch could shield him from the horrors his mind made him live through. He couldn't see the ceiling for minutes at least, unable to get his bearing as to where he was.

Slowly he could though. He came back to himself and to the four walls around him. To the dresser that housed your clothes and the weird little knick knacks you insisted on collecting. He felt the weight of the blankets on top of him and how they pushed him into the bed.

He came back to himself, in his bedroom, alone.

He had to remind himself that you were real, that he had just been talked at by you this afternoon. You were just in the living room. Too far away.

He probably shouldn't have done it, should have just flicked a light on, or tried to go back to sleep, but Simon had the clawing need to see you. So he got up quietly, used his stealth to make it the living room where the weak barely there rays of early morning were starting to lighten the room.

His mind couldn't hold onto any thought besides just looking at you. Sprawled out on the right side of the pull out, face half buried as you laid on your front, leg hiked up as if you were attempting a very poor man's army crawl. There was just enough space for him to sit along the head of the bed with you, and the fact he did so without waking you up was impressive. Or you were just that deep of a sleeper.

You didn't even seem to notice how intensely Simon stared at you. It was as if he was trying to commit to memory the way your eye lashes rested against your cheek, or how the way you were resting your head caused your lips to just barely pout. It should have been obvious that seeing you drool in your sleep would force him to cheer up, just a little bit. He counted the number of times your back moved with your breathing, until the number was high enough that it started to push away the idea that it would stop.

Simon spent hours just watching you. Letting the sounds of your gentle snoring and mumblings wash over him. For a second he debated seeing if he could get you to argue with him in your sleep...though...maybe he'd try that a different night.

And when the actual morning came to greet you both, Simon took extra care to watch as your eyes fluttered open. He took in the sleepy way you took in the world, eyes hazy but warm and alive.

#cod #military program spouse #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #Simon x Thimble

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timdrakesmissingnotebook · 6 months ago

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Coffee Shop

summary: tim drake's favorite coffee shop has a new barista.

pairing: tim drake x reader

notes: this is the first time i write something since my art block started, please be nice 🙏🙏🙏

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's just something about you.

Tim thinks it was the destiny for you two to meet. You were the new barista on his favorite coffee shop and he was your first client. Tim remembers shooting you a look of sympathy as you fumbled with the coffee machine, forgetting which buttons to press as you grew more and more nervous.

"I'm sorry about the long wait, it's my first day here." You explained with grimace, trying to figure out the right commandent.

"It's okay, don't worry about that." He smiles and leans towards the balcony, pointing at the machine that was giving you headache, "I think you should press the red one."

"Oh, yeah!" You nodded, doing as he told you. Meeting his blue eyes, you find yourself letting a soft laugh fall from your lips, "You are very kind. Thank you, Mr...?"

"Drake. Tim Drake. Nice to meet you." He smiles again and you feel your own growing wider.

"(y/n) (y/l). It's nice to meet you too."

Tim never had felt this way before. Sure, he has had his fair share of partners on the past, though a lot of them worked better as friends. Tim did love them but, damn, nobody ever made him feel this way.

Maybe it was the way you'd always get his orders right. Or maybe it was how you always had that beautiful smile on your face. It could even be that you were kind to everyone you meet as you went by your way. He didn't know what made him gravitate towards you, but honestly, he didn't really mind.

Tim never thought he'd say it, but he started to look forward to going to work. Going to work meant that he was going to visit the coffee shop, and going to the coffee shop meant he was going to see you. And honestly,

He was head over heels for you.

"Mr. Drake? Are you okay?" You ask on a random tuesday morning, curiously watching him from behind your lashes.

"Uh, yeah, yeah." He blinks and smiles at you kindly, "Also, I told you to call me Tim, (y/n)."

"Mr. Allis will kill me if he hears me call you by your first name." You laugh, and shake your head, "Anyways, black coffee with a hint of vanilla, right?"

"Right." Tim nods and leans towards the balcony to stare down longingly as you moved.

You look up at the boy and raises one of your eyebrows, a small smirk creeping on your lips, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tim lets a sigh out. Honestly, go to hell with his self control. He opens his mouth before he can think better of it, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Uh?" You stop your motions to look at him, "I- I don't. Why do you ask?"

"Look I-" The man starts, but closes his mouth. Breathing deeply, Tim ignores his flushing face and opens his mouth again, "I know a place. If you- I was wondering if you'd like to, I don't know, maybe hang out with me."

You stare at him for a few moments then asks quietly, "Are you asking me out, Mr. Drake?"

Tim flushes and coughs awkwardly on his hand, "M-Maybe? I mean, you don't have to if you feel uncomfortable. Damn, I made you uncomfortable, didn't I? I'm so sorry, I just really like you-"

"Tim." You call out, stopping his rambling and stealing his attention. Smiling down at him, you tilt your head, "I really like you too."

"You do?" He asks hopefully.

"I do." You nod, confirming, "And I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Cool! Sweet! Amazing!" Tim shoots you a bright beam, "You won't regret it, I promise you."

"I know I won't." You utter as a red blush creeps onto your face, "I'm gonna give you my number. That way we can actually work it out."

The man nods excitedly and watches you grab a pen and a piece of paper.

Tim leaves the cafeteria, 30 minutes late for his meeting, with a cup of coffee on one hand and a special phone number on the other.

He still has a smile on his face when he arrives on his office to a frowing Bruce Wayne.

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #meet cute #tim drake #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #dc comics #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin

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f1version · 11 months ago

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SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO ‧͙*̩̩͙❅ MSC47

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader ( she/her )

summary: Mick and you have been best friends for years, been through the good and bad, but feelings change and thoughts spiral. Will this holiday time make both of you realize that you could be the one?

warnings/info: fluff, best friends to lovers, miscommunication (they’re avoiding each other), kissing, a bit of anxiety, a try-to hallmark movie my way through fics.

word count: 2.1k words

note: inspired on sabrina carpenter’s song! hope you like it, have a good day and happy holidays!

snowglobe, a holiday special

DECEMBER 20, 2023

It’s cold outside; snow is falling everywhere but not with enough force to block the streets or close the stores. Usually, when the weather looks like this, you would call Mick and bake those cookies he loves. He would put on his ‘Emotional Support’ apron and pretend to help. You would tease him about how he never does anything, just there to eat, and he would laugh, eyes lighten up, and say something along the lines of—I just passed you the flour! or whatever ingredient he helped you grab from the shelf ten minutes back.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in this place, so desperately in love with your best friend, with butterflies in your stomach when he hugs you, a silly smile on your face when he tells some awful joke, and an enormous fear of telling him, sort of. It doesn’t matter; that won't stop you from baking cookies on such a pretty snowy day.

You: Wanna come over? I’m making cookies

Mick: Very busy right now

Mick: Just do them without me

You: that's alright

Here’s the thing: Mick’s been acting as cold as snow since the last time you saw each other a week ago. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, not that you are aware of; you were watching Hallmark movies together, and he decided to leave abruptly before the movie ended. Maybe it’s just an emergency, he said, but he’s been running away from you for days, your friends confused over the whole thing.

You wonder if he’s noticed. Lately, your friends have spent a lot of time telling you how obvious it looks—shiny eyes paired with a never-ending smile. They have also suggested it’s mutual, which you hope because all you've wanted to do before your family's Christmas party is to confess, but who knows, maybe you’ve all been watching too many movies.

DECEMBER 22, 2023

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make him mad?” Alicia, your best friend, asks. She came in to leave some decorations for the party on Sunday, but one life update lent to another and of course, the Mick situation came up.

“It doesn't even seem like he’s mad at me,” You say because it’s true, you’ve known Mick long enough to know how he acts when mad, “he’s just ignoring me.”

She sighs. “Then why don’t you ask him what’s wrong?”

You’ve asked yourself that a couple of times, but the answer is still not clear, usually is as easy as walking down the street to his house but this time the thought overwhelms you. “Because I'm scared?” You answer, out of breath. “I don't know. I’m focusing on the party, especially because Mom doesn’t come back until tomorrow evening.”

“Honestly, my suggestion is for you to ask him before the party.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right. The Christmas party is a tradition your families started eleven years ago, after Alicia, Gina, Esteban, Mick, and you decided to become inseparable at one of Mick’s birthday parties. This year it will be hosted at your family home, and with your mom away in Germany for a work conference, you’ve had your friends come around and help. They’ve all shown up but Mick. What the hell is his problem?

“I know Ali but,” Your phone starts ringing, Mickey is displayed on your screen with a picture of Mick carrying Angie. Alicia rolls her eyes and encourages you to take it with her head. “Hello?”

“Hi. I'm panicking a bit,” he says, the background noise lets you know he's in his car.

“Why?” You ask, forgetting you were having a crisis on this. “Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “It’s embarrassing, but I have no idea what to get your mom,” he says, and you laugh. Last year, you were having this exact crisis about Corinna.

You hum, thinking, “She wanted new pedals for her bike. Loved some she saw in Bike World; you’ll have to drive a bit, but I’ll send you the pic.” You put your phone away, change the call to speaker, and open messages, sending the picture your mom sent you a month ago. “There you go.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

You smile, letting out a laugh. “I know, idiot.”

“Bye, love you,” he says. Your calls always end like this; it’s a habit, so you mutter Love you back and hang up.

Alicia is staring at you, a grin on her red lips. “I hate both of you,” and she laughs, grabbing her keys and purse, about to leave. You’re somehow dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Bye, love you. Love you,” she mimics, and you feel heat rise up your cheeks. “You guys really need to talk; I’m done dealing with him too.”

“What? Ali, it’s a ha-”

“I’m coming back at six”

“Alicia!”

“Just ask him!” She closes de door before you can even ask her to come back.

DECEMBER 24, 2023

Needless to say, you didn’t talk with Mick on the 23rd. Too busy dealing with the party and, as Esteban said, too busy avoiding the topic.

Now it’s 7 p.m., warm lights tint the house while friends and family sway along the music in the background. Mick has been around since ten in the morning, bringing presents, a couple of ingredients that your mom was missing, and decorations, which he then helped put together. Now he’s just in full black attire, wine in hand, singing along to the song playing. Once again, you're too busy in your world to notice him approaching you.

“You always know which songs to play,” he says. Because he knows it’s your playlist reproducing. You know that’s one of his favorite songs.

“I try my best. But I also know it’s one of your favorites,” you answer, and he hums. There’s a void between you, one that hasn't been there before. It's not the tension when you fight or the longing when you're upset; it's not the excitement of seeing each other after months of traveling or the mischief when you prank your friends. It’s different—something that has been building itself for months—and you are too oblivious to understand what it is.

“You look beautiful,” Mick says, not looking at you but at his drink. He’s looked at you enough tonight, he thinks. You look up, suddenly feeling an outrageous urge to kiss him. Try and see if that’s the answer to all your questions.

He’s faster though, clears his throat, and says, “I’m going for more cookies.”

And he leaves. Your eyes stay on his back as he takes one cookie from the snack table. See him hum to the taste. You smile, bittersweet, What is going on, Mick? You want to shout at him, tell him in a million different ways how confusing all of this is, but that’s a talk for tomorrow; you’ve decided, you can't escape it any longer then.

"Shatz,” Someone calls and then says your name.

“Hm, yes, mom?” You ask, and it’s time to eat.

[ 10 minutes later ]

You are in the middle of dinner, or gossiping time, as Gina calls it, when Aunt Adelaide starts asking each one of you—the single, young members of the family and friends—about relationships. It’s not your favorite part, but a lot of fun commentary comes out of it.

Hearing your name, you know it's your turn. “Do you have anyone special yet? Maybe a secret boyfriend you don't want to tell us about?"

You laugh, “No, no. But I hope someone comes along this year.” First, you have to get over Mick, you think, and laugh a bit more.

“I have a neighbor I could introduce you to, dear. He’s a lovely young man.” She always has someone to present you to; it’s surprising. You try to go on dates with them, but they never end up working.

“I’ll think about it.” You say this as the loud sound of silver hitting the floor calls everyone’s attention.

Mick abruptly stands up. “I’m sorry,” he says as he picks up his fallen fork. He looks uncomfortable, like he’s had enough of the food, the music, or the topic. “Excuse me, I’m going for another one.”

The table has fallen silent. Aunt Adelaide is looking at you in amusement, a playful grin on her face. Someone nudges your shoulder, and you know it’s Alicia. Her eyes stand on a strange middle ground between confused and knowing, tilting her head in encouragement, like she always does. You also stand up, not so abruptly, but now everyone looks at you expectantly. “I’m going. Excuse me.”

You follow Mick to the kitchen; thankfully, it's far enough from the dining room that no one will bother.

“Mick?” You call once you’re there. His head is on his hands, and he is murmuring inaudible words to himself. "Mick, what is going on?"

He looks up, his hair messy. He’s overthinking, and you don't know what to do. You feel lost looking at him, far away from his thoughts and feelings. “What do you mean? Everything is alright.”

“You don’t look alright,” you say, shaking your head. “You’ve been acting strange.”

“No, I haven't. We’re alright,” he lies once again, picking on his thumbs.

You sigh, knowing this is when you talk about it—no script, no thinking, just questions and hope for answers. Whatever is budging him has his anxiety running in full force. “No, you’re not, and we're not; I have no idea what just happened, and you're acting as if you barely know me."

He takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at you with his deep blue eyes. You see questions being asked but don’t understand how to answer them. “It’s nothing; I'm just. It’s hard to explain; you won't understand.”

“I will try to understand then, like I always do.” You promise, taking two steps forward, close enough to reach out and hold him, "Just please talk to me."

“I don’t want to mess things up between us,” he says, sounding afraid. It reminds you of the time sixteen-year-old Mick broke your favorite perfume by accident. He didn’t want to tell you, too afraid you would stop talking to him. You really hope he didn’t break anything, material or not.

“You won't. I will be here for you.”

“I just want,” he stops himself once again. His eyes never leave yours, so you open yours a bit, waiting, listening to whatever he has to say, and it seems to work because he just says, “You."

“What?” You blank, not knowing what to say or do, not knowing if you understood correctly or if it’s the movie's effect once again. You see the exact moment in which he panics.

“No, fuck. I’m sorry, I.” He looks everywhere but your eyes, searching for an exit. Your first instinct is to grab his hand, keeping him where he is.

“I could,” you say slowly, looking at your now-intertwined hands. “I could be misunderstanding all of this, but, Mick,” you say, looking at him. He’s looking back, hope in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. “I like you, but no, not even. Mick, I’m so in love with you it hurts. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but then you disappeared. You didn’t want to see me; you were acting different, and I got so worried, but I think...”

“That we are both idiots,” he says, a small smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, we are.”

He smiles and brings his free hand to your cheek, says your name like it’s meant for him to say forever. “I’m in love with you too, so much. I got so scared when I realized that I didn't just like you, that I couldn’t hide it anymore. And then our friends started saying how obvious I was being.”

“Same here,” you say, laughing. He moves his hand, pulling you in for a warm hug. It feels different than any other you’ve shared; the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been building together, finally finding their place. It’s a breath of fresh air. Mick’s hands are all around you, softly caressing your back, his head buried in your neck, leaving a small peck before distancing himself enough so he can see your face. You want to ask if it's appropriate to kiss him now.

But he's the first to talk. “Quick question."

“Shoot."

“Do I need a mistletoe to kiss you?” He asks, and you laugh loudly. Shake your head in embarrassment. Oh, how you love this man.

“As much as I enjoy the tradition, all you, Mick Schumacher, have to do is ask,” and now it's his turn to laugh, brings you closer while doing so.

“Can I please kiss you?"

You pretend to think about it and decide to tease him a little bit: “Is that what you asked for Christmas?"

“It’s the exact thing I asked Santa Claus for."

“Then merry Christmas, Mick.”

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