#love this movie so much it’s unhealthy at this point

[genderqueerdykes]

this is prob silly but i appreciate you being so candid about not interacting with much media (like film/tv/pop culture stuff). it's kind of hard to be on tumblr or really even exist if you're not able to interact with media but it's a big trigger for me so i just... can't. like, i've never had anyone understand that it's not a choice i'm making to be special/different/lazy i just have extreme and unhealthly reactions to most media, except some books and comics. which idk if that's how it is for you (its not my business or anything) but i've never felt seen/represented about it before so im thankful, yk?

i appreciate you for sending this! i don't find it silly at all

i think it's very good for you to acknowledge that you have an unhealthy relationship with most forms of media. i'm sorry that you're going through this, but consuming media is not a requirement nor is it something that you genuinely need for your mental health, so it's okay that that's how you feel. i appreciate this because it gives me a chance to talk about something that is important to me, but people struggle to understand why that is

my parents used to make fun of whatever i was watching or playing as a kid over my shoulder. i used to get relentlessly mocked every time i put on a show i liked or played a game in front of either of them. it caused me to have severe trauma for years where i couldn't watch or play anything around other people at all. i still don't like when people ask me to put on things that i do like for a big group. the stress i feel when other people don't enjoy it is not worth it. i'm still very uncomfortable doing this to this day

i've felt pretty alienated all my life due to this. it seems like now more than ever, media, especially fictional media, is so important to general modern culture that it creates a barrier between people who do and don't engage. and it's not like it's a passive thing, i have people get offended at me when i say i haven't seen a movie or TV show. not talking about anyone on here, or any anons i've answered about media! people have been kind and respectful here. but in my real life and in conversations with other people, i have genuinely been mocked or insulted because i don't engage with most television, movies, books and comics.

i've had people question my autism over this. when i've told people in the past that i do not engage with pop culture, fictional media and so on, i've had people actually say "but i thought you were autistic????" like it's genuinely frustrating that it seems like people have shifted to thinking that autistic people's special interests are always cartoons, games and TV shows. it worries me because at times it feels like people are turning the common definition of autism into Media Consumption Disorder. my special interests are queer history & culture, animals & nature, and medicine & psychology. i genuinely enjoy research, it's something i happily do for hours because it stimulates my brain and motivates me. it excites me just as much as i think fiction excites people who can enjoy it. it's more than okay for autistic people to have a piece of media as their special interest, i'm not saying that its not! but it frightens me that people seem to conflate "autistic" with "loves fictional media".

due to my DID, i can't remember plots. like at all. plots confuse the ever loving hell out of me because i can't keep track of what's going on. real life doesn't have a plot. science doesn't have a plot. i don't know if fully understand the point of a plot, honestly. expecting people to be able to remember such an absurd amount of information in order to figure out something that happens down the road or at the very end feels like a herculean task to me. i can't remember what happened to me 10 minutes ago, there's no way i'm remembering a tiny event that happened hours and hours and hours ago. scripted interactions feel so stiff and unnatural to me

people tell me i'm saying i don't know what they're talking about to "be an asshole". i used to have a best friend who got really into dungeons&dragons and it traumatized me for years because i got into at first, then quickly lost interest once i realized how boring actually playing the game is for me. my friend did NOT take it well. he continued to force me to play. if i would ask him to please change the conversation topic he would start insulting and berating me and telling me that i was pretending to not be interested anymore to be mean to him. he couldn't understand that i grew out of it. he never got any better with this, as he was obsessed with marvel films and would get super pissed off if i told him i had no interest or didn't know what to say to him. it was frustrating because i didn't have a choice whether or not i could like something. it was "if you don't like this, you're an asshole."

and it's not just him that's treated me that way. it's been most of my friends. for whatever reason, when you tell the average person that you haven't seen, or god forbid don't like a piece of media, they take it personally for... some reason. as if i said "no i don't watch that because that's bad" as opposed to what i actually say is "i don't know what that is" or "i haven't seen that". you would not believe how insecure people get when you tell them you don't like a piece of media they like. i'm not sure why people feel like their favorite media is an extension of themselves, but it's an unhealthy relationship. it's not healthy to get offended if your friend tells you they haven't seen a piece of media that you have.

i have aphantasia, which is the inability to picture things in my head. i don't get "sucked into" media like people with clearer mind's eyes do. i don't picture anything cool or epic or fun happening in my head because i can't. as a result, i don't get pulled into shows, i don't get invested in tabletop games, i don't really get that affected by the media that i watch because i am painfully aware that i'm staring at a pre-recorded and scripted show the entire time. i'm painfully aware that i'm staring at an actor in a costume i just cannot get immersed in most forms of media save for very rare video games but even then, i immediately stop thinking about it the second i'm done interacting with it

i just don't listen to music and that one baffles people as i'm punk. most music is just straight up overstimulating to me due to my autism. i'm not saying that music is bad, it just overstimulates the everloving hell out of me. most of the time it just hurts my ears or gives me a headache or triggers my misophonia, which results in me getting irrationally pissed off. it's not something i can control. i prefer to listen to nature sounds, very simple meditation music that is a few simple tones, or nothing at all. i actually enjoy silence. i enjoy not overloading my ears. i enjoy being alone with my own thoughts. i can't think when there's too much noise happening

video games are more enjoyable than anything else due to the interactive element, but that does not mean i am paying attention to the characters or the story. it's very rare that a game can actually make me get interested in the characters themselves. i'm just there for the gameplay. generally i prefer games like rollercoaster tycoon, tower unite and other games that don't have a plot at all and are strictly focused on gameplay. i have no idea how people memorize all the different characters and interactions and story beats in games that have an overarching plot.

it's a personal choice. you're allowed to choose what your hobbies and interests are. if pop culture stresses you out, you do not have to engage. i just straight up do not get pop culture references at all and i've had people laugh at me for it but i just really don't care, it's not what i'm interested in as a person. i feel like a lot of people aren't quite realizing that most popular media is made for profit, not to be something genuinely well written or entertaining. i'm not saying those things are bad but what i am saying is that it's a product meant to be consumed in order for you to help a generally huge company profit. there's very little soul and whimsy when it comes to most AAA games and big box office films. the artistic integrity is severely lacking

anyway, thank you for giving me a chance to talk about this more at length! it's why i'm just very honest about it because i'm not going to force myself to change my interests because some people find how i approach life strange, or take it personally. you're allowed to choose what you interact with and don't. you're allowed to define your own interests and hobbies. and i think you're doing a great thing by acknowledging that you have an unhealthy relationship with pop culture. a LOT of people do right now. it's manufactured to be addicting on purpose. binge watching things is encouraged and is becoming seen as a new norm. i don't think people like you or i deserve to be mocked for approaching life in ways that make sense to us. take care of yourself, i appreciate you!

[joesleftskeleton]

Jennifer’s Body

[grievingbovine]

Nona the Ninth is one of my favorite books of all time. Not just because it's Locked Tomb, but it is the purest form of one of the big messages the series is trying to divulge.

The price of love is grief. We will never be free of it as long as we love anything at all. Our family, friends, our pets, even beloved media. Anything that connects that deeply to us that we love it will leave a gaping hole when it's gone.

But no one rejects loving to avoid grief. Every one of the characters holds on desperately to something they love, to levels that seem unhealthy to us. They want the perks without the cost.

John is holding on to a world and people that died 10k years ago.

The lyctors cling desperately to their cavaliers memories, to the point of being willing to end the 9 houses to honor them.

Cam held on to Pal, Pal held on to Dulcie. Harrow held on to Gideon so hard she disappeared her from her memory to avoid the grief she would pay for the privelege of caring for her.

But Nona loves indiscriminately. She loves the polluted sky, she loves the sad people, she loves the stray dogs and her friends and her teachers and Varun. She loves Pyrrhas lying ass, she loves Camilla and Palemedes, she loves crown and even cares about Judith. Nona isn't afraid of grief, because to her all that love balances it out. Nona is the only one in the end willing to pay the price for that 6 months of unconditional love. She knows from the beginning of the book that her own days are numbered, but she doesn't shy from it and avoid loving.

She loves all that much harder.

"If you could see your whole life, start to finish, would you change anything?" The movie Arrival (2016) approaches this same theme. If you knew what you'd lose, would you go back to avoid it? Would you keep away from the people and things you knew you'd lose? Would you shy away from experiencing love just because it hurts?

"Love and Freedom don't coexist, warden."

[julietsf1]

The Idiot I Call Mine - Lando Norris x BestFriend! Reader

summary: best friends are supposed to share laughs, inside jokes, fries and the occasional late-night drive. what they’re not supposed to do is flirt like it’s a competitive sport or make you question every unspoken rule of friendship. at least, unless your name is Lando Norris apparently. (7.1k words)

content: fluff! friends to lovers; flirty dynamic; mutual pining

an: whaaat? a fic about another driver? yes loves. this is me coming forward as a secret Lando fan. I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did writing this :)

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

Lando Norris has this annoying habit of always being right. It’s not even about anything important—it’s just little things. Like the time he guessed exactly how long it would take before I caved and ordered dessert, or when he said I’d end up watching a rom-com tonight even though I claimed I wanted “something deep and meaningful.”

“See?” he said smugly, leaning back on the couch as the opening credits of The Holiday  played. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Hardly,” I shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. “You just know I have a weak spot for Jude Law. That doesn’t make you psychic.”

“No, but it does make me an excellent best friend.” He winked, plucking the popcorn off his lap and popping it into his mouth like the show-off he was.

I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t fighting a grin. Lando and I had been inseparable for years, the kind of best friends who finished each other’s sentences and shared a borderline unhealthy obsession with late-night McDonald’s runs. But lately, something had been… different.

Not bad, exactly. Just different. Maybe? I wasn’t even sure to be honest. 

“You’re staring again,” Lando said, breaking into my thoughts. He was sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest in a way that felt entirely too casual and yet completely deliberate. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, and his smirk was the kind that could make even the most confident person question their sanity.

“I wasn’t staring,” I lied, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth for good measure.

“You were absolutely staring,” he teased, leaning closer. “What’s on your mind, hmm? Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I am? It’s okay—you can admit it.”

“You’re such a joke,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably. “Devastatingly handsome? Please. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “And yet, here you are, spending your Friday night with me. Interesting choice.”

“I’m here for the popcorn,” I deadpanned, though even I didn’t believe myself. “And because you begged me.”

“I didn’t beg,” he protested. “I suggested strongly. There’s a difference.”

This was us—lighthearted insults, jokes at each other’s expense, and an ease in our conversations that felt like home. If there was something different lately, I told myself it was just my imagination running wild. 

“Speaking of choices,” I said, leaning back against the couch. “What’s the deal with you and your phone wallpaper?”

“What about it?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on, Lando,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You really expect me to believe you just happened to pick a picture of me for your wallpaper?”

“It’s a great photo,” he said with a shrug. “You look happy. And let’s not pretend your wallpaper isn’t me.”

I froze, caught. He was right—my wallpaper was him, but that wasn’t the point.

“That’s different,” I said quickly. “You look stupid in yours. It’s funny.”

“Ah, so I’m your personal clown now?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Good to know my humiliation brings you joy.”

“Always,” I said sweetly, tossing another piece of popcorn his way.

The movie played on in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. We were too busy pushing each other’s buttons, like always.

“Hey,” Lando said after a while, his tone a little softer. “You’re coming to dinner at Mum’s next weekend, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “She’s already planning the menu. Something with pasta, probably. You know how she gets when you’re coming over.”

I smiled despite myself. His family had always treated me like one of their own, and his mum had a knack for making me feel special in ways that were both comforting and overwhelming.

“Well, in that case,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I guess I can clear my schedule.”

“Good,” he said, nudging me with his elbow. “I’d be bored without you there.”

It was moments like this—simple and familiar—that stuck with me longer than they should. The way he said things so casually, as if they didn’t carry any weight, even when they somehow did. 

“You’ve got something on your face,” I said suddenly, trying to distract myself.

“Where?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Right there,” I said, tapping the corner of my mouth.

He smirked, deliberately licking the spot where I’d pointed. “Better?”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” I said, shoving him away. But I was laughing, and so was he.

“You love it,” he said, and for once, I didn’t argue. Because maybe I did.

As the night went on, the teasing continued, each remark more loaded than the last. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t sure if it was the movie or Lando’s lingering glances that had me feeling so off-kilter.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he said, breaking the silence as he stood to clean up the popcorn bowl. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking,” I said vaguely, not meeting his gaze.

“About?” he pressed, leaning against the counter with a smirk that said he already knew the answer.

“Nothing important,” I said, grabbing my phone and pretending to scroll.

“Liar,” he said, his voice playful but probing. “You’re terrible at hiding things, you know that?”

I glanced up at him, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it had been doing lately. He was standing there like he had all the time in the world, his green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Goodnight, Lando,” I said finally, brushing past him on my way to the couch.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

…

“You know, for someone who claims to be an athlete, you spend an alarming amount of time eating,” I said, glancing at Lando over the top of my menu.

“Carbs are fuel,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand that we could’ve gone somewhere normal instead of whatever this place is,” I said, gesturing to the overly fancy restaurant. The kind of place where the wine glasses sparkled brighter than the chandeliers, and the menu was full of words I couldn’t pronounce.

“You’re so ungrateful,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how hard it was to get a table here? I had to name-drop myself.”

“Wow,” I said dryly. “The struggle.”

“Exactly. And now you’re here, about to enjoy the finest pasta in town, thanks to me. A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”

“Gratitude? You dragged me here under false pretenses. You said this was a ‘low-key spot.’”

“It is low-key,” he argued, gesturing around. “For Monte Carlo standards.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my face. This was just how things were with Lando—effortless, easy, and borderline ridiculous.

“Alright, what are you getting?” Lando asked, lowering his menu.

“Fettuccine Alfredo,” I said without hesitation.

“Of course you are,” he said, smirking. “Predictable.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I shot back. “What are you getting, then? Something groundbreaking? Life-changing? Revolutionary?”

“Tagliatelle al tartufo,” he said with a mockingly posh accent.

“Wow,” I said, feigning awe. “Truffle pasta. You’re really pushing the boundaries, Norris.”

“Don’t be jealous just because I have sophisticated taste,” he replied, the smirk never leaving his face.

“‘Sophisticated’ is one way to put it,” I muttered, pretending to study the menu again. “Another is ‘pretentious.’”

“You’ll be begging for a bite,” he said confidently, setting the menu down.

“Please,” I said, scoffing. “You’ll be stealing mine before the plates even hit the table.”

He leaned forward, his grin widening. “You know me so well.”

The food arrived soon after, and, as predicted, we switched plates halfway through without even discussing it. It was second nature by now, like so many other things about us.

“You know,” Lando said, twirling a forkful of fettuccine, “if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out, I could be a food critic.”

“Sure,” I said, deadpan. “Because people are dying to know what Lando Norris thinks about pasta.”

“They would be,” he said, undeterred. “My palate is unparalleled.”

“Your palate consists of pizza, chicken nuggets, and whatever I’m eating,” I shot back.

“And yet, here we are,” he said, gesturing to the table. “Me, enjoying this culinary masterpiece, and you, enjoying my company. Life is good.”

It was shaping up to be another night of easy conversation and mindless teasing until a voice interrupted us.

“Lando?”

I looked up to see two women standing at the edge of our table. They were both tall, blonde, and effortlessly elegant, the kind of women who looked like they belonged in a magazine spread rather than real life.

“Oh, hey!” Lando said, his face lighting up in recognition.

I glanced at him, watching as his entire demeanor shifted ever so slightly. He straightened up, his grin widening just enough to make my stomach twist.

“We haven’t seen you in forever,” one of the women said, her smile bright and practiced.

“I know,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. “It’s been a while.”

“You look great,” one of them said, her smile bright as she leaned in a little too close.

“So do you,” Lando replied, his tone polite but just warm enough to make me suddenly very interested in my water glass. The conversation floated around me, full of laughter and inside jokes I didn’t understand.

“And who’s this?” one of them finally asked, her gaze flicking to me with polite curiosity.

“This is Y/N,” Lando said, gesturing toward me with a casualness that felt too deliberate. “My best friend.”

Best friend. There it was again.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Likewise,” she replied, her tone perfectly pleasant.

They didn’t linger much longer—just enough to leave their mark before excusing themselves with a wave and a promise to “catch up soon.”

“Old friends of yours?” I asked once they were gone, my voice light but with a slight edge.

“Something like that,” Lando said, taking a sip of his water.

“Something like that?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “They’re sisters. I, uh… may have had a thing with both of them. At different times, obviously.”

My fork froze midair. “Both of them?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughing. “It’s not that weird.”

“It’s incredibly weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“I mean, it didn’t overlap or anything,” he added, as if that somehow made it better. “But yeah… sisters.”

I stared at him, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s… impressive? I guess?”

“Thank you,” he said, grinning like he’d just been handed an award. “Think I should call them again?”

“Sure,” I forced a laugh, stabbing at my pasta. “And then ask if they have any other sisters you might’ve missed.”

He chuckled, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in my tone. “Good idea. Always room for a hat trick.”

My stomach churned uncomfortably, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I focused on my plate, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way my mood had shifted.

…

The paddock was its usual chaotic self—teams rushing to prepare for practice sessions, fans peering over barriers for a glimpse of their favorite drivers, and media personnel darting between interviews. I decided to escape the madness for a bit, heading toward the staff catering building for a much-needed coffee.

The line was mercifully short, but as I joined it, I noticed someone already waiting near the front. Tall, dark-haired, and wearing a Ferrari polo with his name—Marco—stitched neatly on the chest. He turned slightly, catching my eye and offering a polite smile.

“Busy morning?” he asked, his tone warm and conversational.

“Something like that,” I replied with a small smile. “You?”

“Always,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But coffee makes it manageable, no?”

I nodded. “A universal truth.”

Marco stepped aside to let me order, a gesture so casual it almost went unnoticed. As I gave my order to the barista, I felt him glance at me again—not invasive, just curious.

“So, not Ferrari,” he said after I stepped back to wait for my coffee.

“Is it that obvious?” I joked.

“A little,” he admitted, his grin widening. “You’re far too relaxed to be one of us.”

“Should I be offended or flattered?” I asked, tilting my head playfully.

“Flattered,” he said easily. “Relaxed is a good thing.”

We fell into an easy rhythm as we waited. Marco was effortlessly charming, asking questions without prying and tossing in a few self-deprecating remarks about Ferrari’s chaos.

“You’re here with a team?” he asked eventually.

“A friend,” I said vaguely.

“Lucky friend,” he said, his tone light but genuine.

I laughed softly. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

Marco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation.

“There you are.”

I turned to see Lando approaching, his expression relaxed but his eyes sharper than usual.

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were doing media.”

“Finished early,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly to Marco, who stood quietly by my side. “And I figured I’d find you here.”

“Good instincts,” I said lightly, though something about his sudden appearance felt… deliberate.

Marco offered his hand to Lando, ever polite. “Marco. Ferrari engineering.”

“Lando,” he replied, shaking his hand. “McLaren driving.”

Marco chuckled. “I know who you are. Good to meet you.”

“You too,” Lando said, his tone friendly but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

The barista called my name, and I turned to grab my coffee, giving them a moment to exchange polite words. By the time I returned, Marco was stepping away with his own drink.

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said, offering me a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.

Lando watched him go before turning back to me. “Who was that?”

“Marco,” I said simply.

“And what was Marco talking to you about?” he asked, his tone too casual to be entirely innocent.

I raised an eyebrow. “Coffee, mostly. Why?”

“No reason,” he said quickly, taking a sip of my drink.

I studied him for a moment, noting the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he said defensively.

“You’re definitely acting weird.”

Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“He was flirting,” Lando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I blinked. “He was being nice.”

“Nice,” Lando repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”

“Lando, he’s just a guy who works for Ferrari,” I said, shaking my head.

“Exactly,” he said, as if that proved his point.

There was a beat of silence as I processed his words.

“You sound jealous,” I said finally, testing the waters.

“Jealous?” he scoffed, though the flicker of something in his eyes gave him away. “Hardly. I just think you can do way better than some guy who chats you up in the coffee line.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he asked, smirking now.

“Yes,” I said firmly, though the warmth in my chest betrayed me.

We walked back toward the McLaren garage, his mood lightening with every step. By the time we arrived, he was back to his usual self—chatting with the mechanics and laughing at some joke I’d already missed.

But his words stayed with me, replaying in my mind as I sat down with my coffee. My coffee which Lando had somehow already drank half of. 

…

The McLaren lounge was a rare oasis of calm in the chaos of a race weekend. Engineers hustled past the windows, radios crackled with updates, and somewhere in the distance, an engine roared to life. But in here, it was all plush couches, soft lighting, and a distinct lack of urgency.

I was curled up on one end of the couch, flipping through a magazine, while Oscar and Lando lounged on the other side. Lando, as usual, couldn’t sit still. He was draped sideways over the armrest, absently spinning a water bottle in his hands.

“Alright,” Lando announced, breaking the comfortable silence. “Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?”

I looked up from my magazine, narrowing my eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s an important question,” he insisted, his grin wide and mischievous.

I pretended to ponder for a moment. “One horse-sized duck. Definitely.”

Lando gaped at me like I’d just declared something outrageous. “Terrible answer. Absolutely terrible.”

“It’s the smart answer,” I shot back, sitting up straighter. “You outmaneuver one big target instead of exhausting yourself trying to wrangle a hundred tiny ones.”

“Do you even know how terrifying a horse-sized duck would be?” Lando asked, his voice rising in mock disbelief.

“And do you know how terrifying a hundred duck-sized horses would be?” I countered, raising an eyebrow.

Lando leaned forward, his grin widening. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you’d rather face one giant, angry duck with a wingspan bigger than this couch?”

“Absolutely,” I said confidently. “Ducks aren’t that scary.”

“They can bite, you know,” he shot back, gesturing dramatically. “One snap, and you’re done for.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “I think I’d survive. Besides, I have a secret weapon.”

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“You,” I said, deadpan. “I’ll just toss you in its path and run.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest in mock betrayal. “Wow. That’s cold, Y/N. I thought we were a team.”

“We are,” I said, grinning. “But only if you pick the right answer next time.”

For a moment, he was quiet, his grin faltering just slightly as he met my gaze. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of something softer beneath the banter. But it was enough to make my stomach do that annoying little flip I’d been trying to ignore.

“Lando,” Oscar interjected, his tone casual but pointed. “You’re staring.”

“I am not,” Lando said quickly, his ears turning the faintest shade of pink as he looked away.

“You are,” Oscar said, leaning back with a smirk.

“You’re imagining things,” Lando muttered, crossing his arms.

Oscar snorted but didn’t press the issue, instead grabbing his phone and scrolling through it idly. But the look he shot Lando wasn’t lost on me—or Lando, for that matter.

As the banter settled into silence, I decided to grab a drink from the catering area, leaving the two of them alone.

The moment the door swung shut behind me, Oscar struck. “Mate, you’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“About what?” Lando asked, feigning innocence as he fidgeted with the water bottle.

Oscar didn’t even look up from his phone. “About Y/N.”

“What about her?”

Oscar set his phone down, leveling Lando with a knowing look. “You’re acting like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

Lando scoffed, though the tips of his ears betrayed him again. “That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” Oscar said, dragging out the word like he was savoring it. “That’s why you light up like a Christmas tree whenever she walks in the room.”

“I do not,” Lando said defensively, but his voice lacked conviction.

“You do,” Oscar replied, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Mate, you’re glaring holes into the back of her head every time she talks to someone else. And don’t even get me started on how you were watching her during the duck-and-horse debate like she’d just solved world peace.”

“That’s—” Lando started, then stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Right,” Oscar said, his smirk firmly in place. “It’s exactly like that, but go off.”

Lando opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s… we’ve known each other forever. It’s Y/N.”

Oscar nodded, as if that made sense, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Don’t you think it would be time to change that soon? You two are exhausting.”

Lando shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it.

“I’m just saying,” Oscar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re completely gone for her. Admit it already.”

Lando groaned, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Oscar said, grinning now. “But I’m right.”

Lando didn’t respond, his gaze drifting to the door where I’d just left. And for the first time, he let himself wonder if maybe—just maybe—Oscar was onto something.

…

The moment we walked into George’s celebration, the energy hit like a wave. The room was packed with familiar faces—drivers, engineers, and friends—dressed to the nines in that effortless way people in motorsport always seemed to manage. String lights twinkled across the ceiling, soft jazz played over the speakers, and a steady hum of conversation filled the air.

“You’re going to owe me for this,” I teased, glancing at Lando. “Dragging me here after wasting twenty minutes deciding between two identical shirts.”

“They weren’t identical,” Lando replied with a roll of his eyes, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as we weaved through the crowd. “One had a darker stitch.”

“Completely life-changing,” I said dryly, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

“See? You get it,” he shot back with a grin, steering us toward a booth near the bar.

The way his hand lingered, warm and steady, was something I tried not to think too much about. It was just Lando being Lando—playful, touchy, and completely oblivious to the little flips my stomach insisted on doing whenever he leaned too close.

We found our way to a booth not far from the bar, where Alexandra and Charles were already seated. Charles was gesturing animatedly about something, while Alexandra sat with her usual poised grace, sipping champagne. When she saw us, her face lit up.

“Enfin, vous êtes là !” Alexandra exclaimed, waving us over. (Finally, you’re here!)

“Lando a changé de chemise trois fois,” I replied, throwing him a look. (Lando changed his shirt three times.)

Charles chuckled, leaning back with a smirk. “Toujours dramatique, hein ?” (Always dramatic, huh?)

“English,” Lando whined as we slid into the booth. “You’re ganging up on me in French. It’s not fair.”

“Pauvre bébé,” I teased, patting his arm lightly. (Poor baby.)

“Whatever that means,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.

The conversation flowed easily between the four of us. Lando, of course, dominated the chatter, weaving an elaborate story about George’s awkward rookie days. His expressions were so animated, his gestures so over-the-top, that even Charles—usually the calm and composed one—was cracking up by the end.

“That’s not true,” I said, nudging Lando with my elbow. “You’re exaggerating again.”

“I’m not!” he protested, his green eyes wide with mock innocence. “It’s all true. Every word.”

“Sure it is,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Back me up here!” he said, turning to Charles.

Charles raised a brow, taking a deliberate sip of his drink. “I wasn’t there, but… I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Alexandra laughed softly, glancing at me. “Toujours l’acteur dramatique, ce Lando.” (Always the drama actor, that Lando.)

“Hey,” Lando said, pointing at her. “I know that wasn’t a compliment.”

I smirked, leaning closer. “It absolutely wasn’t.”

He gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my own friends. I’ll never recover.”

“You’ll survive,” I said, brushing him off, though the warmth in his gaze lingered just a beat too long.

Lando eventually excused himself to grab drinks, leaving me to chat with Alexandra and Charles. As soon as he was out of earshot, Alexandra leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Il est tellement évident qu’il a un faible pour toi,” she said softly, her voice full of amusement. (It’s so obvious he has a thing for you.)

“Quoi?” I asked, my cheeks heating instantly. (What?)

“Ouvre les yeux,” she said, smirking. (Open your eyes.)

Charles chuckled, sipping his drink as he watched the exchange. “C’est écrit partout sur son visage.” (It’s written all over his face.)

“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”

Alexandra raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, her expression saying everything her words didn’t.

At the bar, Lando was cornered by Carlos, who leaned casually against the counter, his expression smug. 

“You know,” Carlos said, his tone casual, “you’re not very subtle.”

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked, though his focus kept drifting toward the booth where I was sitting.

Carlos raised his drink, gesturing toward me. “You’ve been staring at her all night, hermano. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

Lando stiffened, his grin faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just tell her,” Carlos said, swirling his drink lazily.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando replied, his voice quieter now.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because if I mess this up, I lose her,” Lando admitted, glancing toward our booth.

Carlos tilted his head, studying him. “You’re scared. That’s what this is.”

“Of course I’m scared,” Lando muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She’s my best friend. If it doesn’t work—”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Carlos interrupted, his voice softer now. “But you’d better do something soon.”

Carlos’s smirk softened slightly, but before Lando could reply, Liam Lawson appeared at the bar.

“Who’s the girl with Charles and Alexandra?” Liam asked, nodding toward the booth. “She single?”

Carlos grinned mischievously. “Yeah, she is—go for it.”

Lando’s head snapped toward Carlos, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Carlos.”

“What?” Carlos said, feigning innocence. “Just giving the kid a shot.”

…

Liam approached with the kind of confidence that only a Red Bull driver could pull off.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me. “You’re Y/N, right?”

I blinked, momentarily surprised but recovering quickly. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Liam Lawson,” he said, extending a hand.

I shook it, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Nice to meet you.”

“How do you know George?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world.

“Through Lando,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but measured. His easy demeanor was almost disarming, but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me hyper-aware of my surroundings.

“Ah, Lando,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Lucky guy. You two seem pretty close.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” I said simply, taking a sip of my drink and trying not to overthink his comment.

“Well,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “his loss if he hasn’t made a move yet.”

That caught me off guard. My gaze flicked to his, searching for any hint of a joke, but he was entirely serious—or at least good at pretending to be.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.

Liam grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying. If I were him, I wouldn’t be sitting over there, letting someone else steal your attention.”

The comment was bold, and I didn’t quite know how to respond. My thoughts were a mess of confusion, flattery, and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could formulate a response, the familiar sound of Lando’s voice cut through the air.

“Liam,” he said smoothly, stepping up to the table. His tone was calm, but his green eyes held a sharpness that made me sit up a little straighter.

Liam glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Christian’s looking for you,” Lando said, his tone casual but firm. “Something about debrief notes.”

Liam frowned, clearly reluctant. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, nodding. “He seemed pretty keen.”

Liam hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and Lando like he was weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. “Alright. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too,” I replied, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite pin down.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lando lingered for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he avoided my gaze.

“That,” Charles said, his tone thick with amusement, “was the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Lando shot him a glare, his ears turning faintly red. “Mind your own business, Charles.”

Charles just smirked, raising his glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say.”

I didn’t say anything, but a flicker of suspicion settled in the back of my mind.

Had Lando just…? No. That would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

“Let’s get a drink,” Alexandra said, pulling me to my feet.

…

As Alexandra and I made our way back toward the booth, she nudged me gently, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Lando looked like he was about to breathe fire earlier,” she said casually, sipping her drink.

I laughed softly, trying to deflect. “He’s always protective. It’s nothing.”

“Protective?” Alexandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That was not protective, chérie. That was jealousy.”

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short as we neared the booth, Lando and Charles’s voices filtering through the hum of the room.

“It will just be awkward, mate,” Lando said, his tone low and almost resigned.

“Just talk about it,” Charles replied simply.

“It’s not that simple,” Lando muttered. “She will never be more than just a friend.”

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My chest tightened, and the air around me seemed to still. Alexandra’s hand touched my arm gently, but I barely noticed.

“I— I need some air,” I managed, turning away before she could respond.

The ache in my chest grew with every step I took, his words echoing in my head.

She will never be more than just a friend.

And just like that, everything I thought I’d imagined felt painfully real.

…

I turned my phone face down on the table at Gigi’s, willing myself not to glance at the screen again. The missed calls from Lando were piling up, his name lighting up my notifications every half hour like clockwork. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him—I did. But every time I thought about his voice, his laugh, his damn words, the ache in my chest tightened.

She will never be more than just a friend.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away as the waiter arrived with my order. The smell of rich, cheesy pasta wafted up, comforting in the way only food could be. I twirled a forkful absentmindedly, hoping the carbs would somehow fill the space that had been hollowed out the night before.

The familiar growl of an engine outside pulled my attention from my plate. I glanced toward the window and froze.

The unmistakable silhouette of Lando’s Miura parked just outside, sleek and shining even under the soft glow of streetlights. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was, stepping out effortless as usual—but his expression wasn’t the easygoing grin I was used to. He looked… worried.

Before I could decide what to do, he spotted me through the window, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. He pushed through the door, his eyes locking onto mine immediately.

“There you are,” he said, relief evident in his tone as he approached my table.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Lando? What are you doing here?”

He pulled out the chair across from me, sitting down without asking. “Looking for you.”

My heart twisted. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said, his voice quieter now.

I looked away, focusing on my fork. “I had my phone off that’s all.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he said finally, his voice softer but steady.

I glanced up, frowning. “What?”

“You always turn to cheesy Italian food when you’re upset,” he said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s your thing.”

The casual observation caught me off guard, a mix of warmth and frustration bubbling in my chest.

“So what?” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “You’re some kind of expert on me now?”

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Y/N, I know you better than anyone. And I know something’s wrong.”

I didn’t answer, twisting my fork in the pasta and pretending to be engrossed in my meal. But the usual comfort it brought was absent, replaced by the uncomfortable weight of his gaze.

“You’re not yourself,” Lando said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, my tone clipped.

“Don’t lie to me,” he replied, his tone more serious than I was used to.

I set my fork down, the clink of metal against porcelain louder than it should have been. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking.”

His eyes softened, his frustration giving way to concern. “Y/N…”

“Lando, I’m fine,” I interrupted, though the words felt hollow.

He didn’t push further, but I could see the gears turning in his head. He sat back, glancing down at my half-finished plate of pasta before gesturing to the waiter.

“Can we get the check, please?” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Paying,” he said simply, standing as the waiter approached.

“For me?”

“Yes,” he said, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Come on.”

“Come on where?” I asked, my brow furrowing.

“You’ll see,” he said, extending a hand.

I hesitated for a moment before letting him pull me to my feet.

The warm night air hit us as we stepped out of Gigi’s, the soft sound of waves in the distance mingling with the faint hum of the city. Lando didn’t say anything, his grip on my hand firm but gentle as he led me toward Larvotto Beach, just a short walk away.

“Lando, seriously,” I said as we reached the sand. “What’s going on?”

He stopped, turning to face me, his green eyes brighter under the moonlight.

“We need to talk.” he said simply.

And just like that, my heart started racing, even though I had no idea what he was going to say.

The beach stretched out before us, quiet except for the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. The city lights glittered faintly in the distance, their reflection dancing on the dark water. Lando walked beside me, his shoulders tense, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

For once, I didn’t fill the silence. I didn’t trust myself to. My thoughts were a whirlwind—last night’s overheard words still fresh in my mind, colliding with the unexpected intensity of this moment.

We walked like that for a while, the sand soft beneath our feet, until Lando came to a sudden stop. He turned to face me, his green eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made my stomach twist.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I crossed my arms, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “Try the beginning.”

He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “The beginning’s too far back. I’d be here all night.”

“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening. “Y/N, I have a lot of friends. Like, a lot of friends.”

I blinked, confused. “Okay?”

“But none of them get to me the way you do,” he said, his voice dropping.

I stared at him, my breath catching. “What are you saying?”

He glanced out at the water, like he was searching for courage in the rolling waves. “I mean… you’re not just anyone to me. You never have been. You’re the first person I think of when something happens—good or bad. And the idea of upsetting you? It’s unbearable.”

My throat tightened as his words sank in.

“Like today,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “You ignored my calls, and I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I’d done something wrong. Whether I hurt you somehow. Because if I did…” He stopped, exhaling sharply, and shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of you being upset because of me.”

I didn’t respond, too caught up in the flood of emotions his words were pulling from me.

“When you’re upset, it breaks my heart,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “And when you laugh… it’s like my entire day gets brighter. When you’re sad, it feels like my world’s falling apart.”

“Lando,” I started, but he held up a hand, shaking his head.

“I’m not done,” he said, his words tumbling out now, faster and more frantic. “I’ve been feeling like this for so long, and I thought I could just push it aside or pretend it didn’t matter, but it does. It matters so much. And if I messed up—if I’ve ruined this somehow—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You didn’t—”

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted, his eyes locking onto mine. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. And I know this might change everything, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

I froze, his confession slamming into me with the force of a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if this makes sense. I just… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

Without thinking, I stepped closer, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

For a second, he was completely still, caught off guard. But then he kissed me back, his hands slipping to my waist as he pulled me closer. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it deepened quickly, making the world around me disappear.

When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us catching our breath.

“So… I’m guessing you feel the same?” he asked, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re so slow sometimes,” I murmured, shaking my head with a laugh.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” I said, smiling.

The relief on his face was almost comical. He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly like he never wanted to let go.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he murmured into my hair.

“And I’ve wanted to hear it,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his brow furrowing slightly. “But… yesterday. Did I say something? Did I—”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I overheard you talking to Charles.”

His face paled. “Oh.”

“You said I’d never be more than a friend,” I said, my voice wavering.

Lando winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, Y/N, that’s not how I meant it at all. I said that because I thought I didn’t stand a chance. Like… you’re so important to me, and I didn’t want to mess up what we already had by wanting something I thought I could never have.”

He looked at me with a mix of regret and hope. “I’m an idiot. It wasn’t because I didn’t want more—it’s because I didn’t think I could have it.”

“You are an idiot,” I said, my lips twitching into a small smile. “But you’re my idiot.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yours, huh? Bold claim.”

I tilted my head, my grin widening. “Think you can find someone else to deal with you the way I do?”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Deal with me? You mean worship my charm and tolerate my perfection?”

“Oh, please,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “The only thing I’m worshipping is the patience I’ve built up putting up with you.”

His hands slid to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, his smirk turning more mischievous. “You love me. Admit it.”

“Not a chance,” I said, even as my pulse quickened.

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my eyes again, his voice softening but still teasing. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

Before I could respond, he closed the gap, kissing me again with a fierceness that took me by surprise. This wasn’t the hesitant, nervous kiss from before. It was confident, teasing, like everything we’d been holding back had finally snapped into place.

I kissed him back, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands tightened on my waist, grounding me as he smiled against my lips, murmuring, “Still denying it?”

I broke the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, raising an eyebrow. “You think one kiss is going to make me fold?”

“Two,” he said smugly, leaning in for another without waiting for an answer.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t stop him, meeting him halfway this time. His lips curved into a grin mid-kiss, and I could feel his stupid, insufferable smugness radiating off him.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked when we pulled apart, my voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Unbelievably,” he replied, his grin widening as he rested his forehead against mine. “And don’t pretend you’re not.”

“Maybe I am,” I admitted, smirking. “But if you keep talking, I might start regretting it.”

He laughed, pulling me closer. “Alright, no more talking. For now.”

“Good,” I said, leaning in again, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else fell away.

The weight of everything unsaid was gone, replaced by the warmth of realizing we’d both been fighting our way toward the same truth: we’d always belonged to each other.

When we broke apart, Lando’s grin turned mischievous, and I immediately knew he was up to something. Before I could react, he scooped me up effortlessly and started toward the water.

“Lando! Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, squirming in his arms as laughter bubbled out of me.

“Payback for all those times you called me an idiot,” he teased, stopping just as the waves lapped at his shoes.

He finally set me down, his smirk smug and unapologetic. “Admit it. You love me anyway.”

Figures. I’m in love with someone who steals my fries and once confidently argued that dolphins were just “sea dogs.” I wouldn’t have it any other way though.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[vi-steponmeplease]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ loser!gf ellie

synopsis: just some random headcanons about what it'd be like to date loser ellie who's js so obsessed with you.

notes: never made any headcanon posts before, so don't mind the setup lmao i have no clue what i'm doing

tw: mostly fluff but there are some smutty hcs (oral — e!receiving)

✧₊⁺ to begin with, ellie defo prefers cozy 'netflix n chill' date nights over dressing up for fancy dinners.

✧₊⁺ cuddling up on the couch with you is something that never fails to make her heart swell, no matter how long you’ve been together.

✧₊⁺ but mostly because it gives her a chance to imagine what domestic life with you might be like—though she’d never admit it, afraid it might seem like she’s moving too fast.

✧₊⁺ she’s a sucker for resting her head on your chest while you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp as the two of you watch some cringey movie you’ll inevitably fall asleep to halfway through.

✧₊⁺ on the rare nights you don’t doze off, ellie grabs her brown acoustic guitar adorned with spongebob stickers and serenades you with a gentle melody while you rest your head on her shoulder.

✧₊⁺ when you’re out with friends, ellie—being the absolute dork she is—seizes the opportunity to practice tricks on her scratched-up skateboard, determined to one day impress you with her skills (even though she can barely land a kickflip without bruising herself)

✧₊⁺ when she eventually heads home with fresh scratches and deep purple bruises on her arms and knees, she does her best to patch herself up and cover them with makeup, hoping you won’t notice.

✧₊⁺ walking around town with ellie is always chaotic, as she can’t help but scream with excitement at the sight of every cat she sees.

✧₊⁺ bonus points if she’s eating chips—she’ll immediately tear open the bag and try to feed the poor animal junk food, no matter how much you explain it’s unhealthy. she just wants the cat to be happy and fed.

✧₊⁺ speaking of cats, she's defo the type to snap 0.5 pictures from every angle, proudly maintaining an entire folder dedicated to her feline encounters.

✧₊⁺ you got her a dino necklace for her birthday, and she’s never taken it off since.

✧₊⁺ ellie also has a whole mini-figure collection of the reptile and loves sending you pictures of two dinos kissing, always captioning them with: us!!

✧₊⁺ this girl lets nothing—absolutely nothing—distract her from a videogame. but the moment you so much as call her name, she’s running to you like a stray dog that just found its owner.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, you sit on her lap as she plays, watching her screen and asking the silliest questions. she always answers with a smile and a soft kiss on your cheek.

"what about there? would you die if you went inside that room?" you ask, your arms draped around her neck as you tilt your head to get a better view of her game.

she chuckles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw before fiddling with the joysticks. "judging by the fact that it’s pitch dark in there, i’d say… probably, yeah."

✧₊⁺ the room eventually falls silent, her focus fully locked on the game. but when she glances down a few moments later, she finds you fast asleep, your head resting on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

✧₊⁺ you’ve never seen a room as messy yet effortlessly aesthetic as ellie’s. somehow, the clutter only adds to her charm and uniqueness.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, as you sit on her bed scrolling through your phone in comfortable silence, ellie sketches little drawings of you.

✧₊⁺ by now, her sketchbook is filled with portraits of you—you’ve become her muse.

✧₊⁺ she used to get shy about showing you her artwork, hesitating before every reveal. but after seeing your excitement over one piece, she proudly gave you a full tour of her sketchbook, secretly basking in the joy of being the reason behind that pretty smile of yours.

✧₊⁺ one time, ellie asked you to press your lipstick-stained lips onto a piece of paper, saying she wanted to create something abstract.

✧₊⁺ that moment quickly escalated into her kissing you with urgency, her lips trailing heated breaths down your neck and collarbone. before you knew it, you were lying on your back, clothes discarded on the floor, as she devoured you like a prisoner savoring a last meal.

✧₊⁺ ellie had never tasted pussy before, but she didn’t need any frame of reference. she’ll always insist yours is the best she could ever have.

✧₊⁺ she’s a soft dom, big on praise—even when you’re the one between her legs.

ellie’s head falls back against the wall, a low groan slipping from her lips as your tongue flicks against her clit. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“fuck, baby. just like that,” she grunts, her hand threading into your hair and tugging gently to bring you closer. “you’re doing so good.”

✧₊⁺ in the end, ellie is just a hopeless loser who’s madly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy.

[explorevenus]

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Darry does not parent anyone in the gang except Ponyboy. No, not even Soda, and definitely not Johnny or Dally.

I’m going to be honest and say I genuinely don’t understand where the idea of Darry being the ‘dad’ of the group, or some kind of father figure to Dallas or johnny of all people comes from, because it’s so explicit in the novel and even the movie that he isn’t (I haven’t seen the musical but from what I understand there's some sort of rivalry between Dallas and Darry there, so there probably isn’t any paternal dynamic there either). To claim Darry is a father figure to ANYBODY- even Ponyboy- is completely antithetical to his character. Darry is twenty years old. He’s a big guy, who has respect from most greasers, and he is the LEADER of the gang, looks out for all of them the way a brother would, but he does not PARENT any of them.

Even after the Curtis parents’ deaths, when he gets guardianship of both Ponyboy and Soda, the only one he actually attempts to parent is Ponyboy- and he clearly struggles with it. It’s not just the main source of tension between him and Ponyboy,  it’s the ONLY source of it. Canonically, Pony and Darry got along fine before the Curtis parents' deaths, were close even, because Darry is good at being an older brother. He always has been, because he is used to it and it doesn’t carry nearly the same level of responsibility as guardianship does. Darry never had to be a parent before, let alone to his brother, and he’s flying blind trying to figure it out. He doesn’t know what limits to impose that seem fair but not stifling, can provide materially but doesn’t know how to provide emotionally, because he’s a new parent who is struggling to raise a teenager instead of a newborn, and has no experience for what he’s doing. Darrel Curtis is DROWNING trying to figure out what being a parent means when he has only ever looked at Pony as a little brother instead of a dependent. He’s not happy. He’d never give his brothers up, but this new role is killing him, and it’s plain for anyone to see. 

This brings me to my next point: Darry is so overwhelmed trying to parent Ponyboy, it never even crosses his mind to try parenting Soda too. This isn’t even my interpretation- it’s textual. Soda doesn’t get hollered at, Darry doesn’t really care where he goes or what he does, and he never punishes him the way he punishes Ponyboy. It doesn’t help that Soda and Darry are closer in age than he and Ponyboy are. Soda is almost seventeen, he has a job and is street smart in a way Pony isn’t. Darry doesn’t have to worry about him as much so he doesn’t, because Soda could survive on his own if he had to, whereas Pony couldn’t. It would also be harder for Darry to discipline Soda if he wanted to, given Soda’s age and his agency, but again, Darry doesn’t want to. Soda doesn’t need raising, because he’s already been pretty raised, and Darry couldn’t handle raising him. Darry can already barely handle raising Ponyboy, and Soda has a tenuous role in the house as he plays confidante to both of them. Soda and Darry’s dynamic is pretty solid because their dynamic is still that of brothers, there’s been no upheaval in their relationship, and so there’s no major friction either. Besides that, there’s the fact that Soda is helping raise Ponyboy, not being raised himself. It’s a joke I’ve seen a few times that Darry plays ‘dad’ and Soda plays ‘mom’ to Ponyboy after the Curtis parents’ deaths, but there's an element of truth to it. Soda handles Pony’s emotional needs, gives him advice, reminds him he’s loved, where Darry provides discipline and material needs. Now, we see clearly in the novel this creates an unhealthy dynamic in the house and in Pony’s relationship with both his brothers, making him ‘hate’ Darry and idolize Soda, but it remains true nonetheless. Darry doesn’t know how to parent, so he follows the traditional social ‘script’ of what fatherhood meant in the sixties, and the rest of the household molded to fit the new Darry into the mold he cast himself in. But despite Darry’s best efforts and Soda’s help, Darry proves over and over he’s not good at parenting, and definitely isn’t filling the role of Pony’s parent let alone his father- and it all culminates with The Slap. 

Now, knowing this, having read the book and seen, even through Pony’s biased narration, that Darry’s attempts at parenting Pony are a bit of a dumpster fire, it’s plain to say Darry isn’t playing dad to anyone else in the gang. If he was he’d be harsher to them, strict with rules he’d expect them to follow (Darry does not like to be disobeyed and he definitely doesn’t like his authority challenged), and cognizant of their whereabouts at all times. He doesn’t do this with any of them though, because he ISN’T trying to parent any of them, and even if he was no one in the gang would let him. Steve is too self-sufficient, Johnny is too independent, and Dally is too Dally for it to ever happen- even if the small age gaps between the characters wouldn’t make the attempt almost comical. Darry is, only ever has been, and only ever will be, a brother to them. It means he can offer up the couch and share food and look out for them while they look out for him in return, without ever being responsible for them. Yes, Darry is superman, he’s the oldest of the gang, seen as dependable and protective. He’s the guy everyone goes to when they get in trouble, a symbol of safety, but not because he can fix things the way a parent would. Dally didn’t call Darry from the phonebooth as a scared kid looking for a parent’s comfort, he called him as a reckless kid looking for a brother’s help to hide his misdeeds. Johnny doesn’t crash on the Curtis’ couch as anything but a kid staying at his friends turned family’s house. He looks at Darry as someone protective, but not as a father figure. In fact, he probably sees better than anyone (except maybe Soda) that Darry isn’t a great guardian, having heard Ponyboy’s rants and seen firsthand how the dynamic in the house has shifted. 

Darry Curtis is everyone’s brother, but no one’s father. He never will be. The only person he ever attempts to parent is Ponyboy, and he’s not good at it. That’s the whole point. Darrel Curtis is a dependable guy, a smart, cool, tough-as-nails gang leader, but he is also still a twenty year old kid, in over his head, who leans heavily on his friends despite his pride, and who is greatly unequipped for the level of responsibility that has fallen onto his shoulders. To portray him as a person who is able to parent a gang of delinquent teenage boys almost his own age is disingenuous and out of character.

Darry Curtis is no one’s dad. That’s the whole point. 

[viasdreams]

Nightwalker ཐི❤︎ཋྀ ~ fine ass dad

"ji i think that's enough."

you watched as Jisung poured an unhealthy amount of butter on the large thing of popcorn he ordered, his finger practically glued to the dispense button.

"just a bit more," jisung muttered, tongue slightly poking at the corner of his mouth.

"i don't even like butter on my popcorn, why are you putting so much?"

he turned to face you, finally pulling his finger away from the button.

"well it's not for you yn," jisung joked, at least you thought it was a joke.

you grabbed a few handfuls of napkins while jisung sampled his soggy treat.

"oh-"

jisung ripped one of the napkins from your grasp and spit into it.

"-my god. that's way too butter." jisung grumbled, face still buried in the paper.

"clearly you don't like butter either," you laughed.

"ok maybe i don't, but i just wanted to try something new." he shrugged.

the two of you made your way to your theater, barely edible popcorn in hand. right before you entered, jisung stopped.

"you okay ji?" you questioned.

he was frantically ruffling his hair and adjusting his clothes.

"do i look hot?" he asked, looking at you with a concerning amount of fear in his eyes like your answer was life or death.

"uh," you looked him up and down. you hadn't noticed before but jisung seemed to have put a lot of effort into his appearance tonight. he normally dressed pretty nicely, but something was different tonight.

"you look really good dude, and that's real."

he sighed and his shoulders relaxed a bit. "okay good, good."

"why does that matter though, the theater is dark."

rather than answering, he lightly shrugged as he led the way to your seats.

the theater lights were already dimmed but you could still see how packed it was. the atmosphere was alive with the excitement of dozens of twilight fans.

you, however, were anything but excited about the movie.

yes, you liked the first movie, but sitting through two hours of a girl falling in love with a vampire didn't really entice you at this current moment.

going with jisung made it bearable tought. it warmed your aching heart that he's including you in something he loves.

you could physically feel how excited he was from his intense grip on your wrists as he pulled you through the seats. he was dragging you so close behind him that you couldn't see where you were going. you didn't even know you had made it to your seats until he, rather forcibly, shoved you down into it.

"ji, what time does it start?" you asked.

no response.

instead, he gapped at the blank screen and bounced in his seat, the popcorn jostling in its bucket.

just as you were about to ask again, the screen came to life, answering your question.

you settled into your seat and prepared for a very long two hours.

around the thirty-minute mark, you noticed something strange about jisung's behavior.

when he came over to watch twilight with you and renjun, he was quoting every line. dramatically enough to the point that renjun had to hold his hand over jisung's mouth to make him stop.

but right now, jisung's mouth was closed. in fact, he wasn't even looking at the screen. he was too busy texting someone to pay attention.

"im going pee." jisung whispered, placing the popcorn in your lap, before practically sprinting out of the room.

it couldn't have been more than a minute before you saw him sit back down out of the corner of your eye. you guessed he was paying attention after all and didn't want to miss anything.

you mindlessly reached for some of the popcorn when you felt a hand graze yours.

giggling, you turned to smile about the cute moment, but your smile quickly fell when you saw hyuck awkwardly smiling back in jisung's place.

"oh jesus christ" you uttered, rather loudly, garnering a few shushes from those around you.

hyuck, holding his smile, brought his finger to his mouth in a shushing motion.

"where is jisung?" you whispered, annoyance coating your tone.

hyuck leaned back in his seat and tilted his head to the side.

over him you saw a very giddy jisung, kicking his feet in his new seat, and a very shocked chenle next to him.

seeing this made everything click in your head. why jisung said he was going to be horny all night, why he was dressed the way he was, why he asked if he looked hot, and why he wasn't invested in the movie.

these motherfuckers set you up. jisung went behind your back to work with your number-one opp.

and for what? just so he could get some play?

realistically, you couldn't be too shocked, this was a very jisung thing to do. especially for chenle.

regardless, you were still extremely ticked off.

"im not dealing with this" you mumbled, grabbing your stuff to move seats.

before you could fully stand, hyuck grabbed your wrist.

"all the seats are full," he informed you.

of course they are.

sitting back down, you tried your best to watch the movie, but it was kind of hard to focus on edward stalking bella when you had your own stalker burning holes into the side of your head.

this movie was actually pretty accurate.

his staring became so intense that you couldn't take it anymore.

"holy shit, what donghyuck?" you half whispered, half barked at him.

"can we talk?" he asked.

thats it? he did all of this just to talk?

"please?"

you rubbed your face as you thought, accidentally massaging a ton of butter into your pores.

his tone seemed genuine enough and maybe he would finally leave you alone after he said when he needed to.

with a sigh, you nodded.

with his will now reinvigorated, he took in a deep breath.

"ok look i'm really, really, sorry for drinking your blood without your permission!" hyuck exclaimed.

the lady sitting next to you leaned forward and gave him a disturbed look.

"um we're talking about the movie, mind your business lady." hyuck retorted, holding his hand out to her.

"oh my god" you murmured, pulling yourself and hyuck out of your seats.

you shot a quick apology to the woman before heading for the exit, slamming the popcorn into jisung's lap as you passed.

hyuck gave a quick thumbs up to jisung as you pulled him out, but he didn't see if jisung returned the gesture because he was distracted by the message chenle had typed on his phone.

'enjoy this movie like it's your last because im going to kill you tonight. and it will hurt.'

"ok what." you stared at the man in front of you, finally being able to see him.

hyuck, like jisung, clearly put effort into his appearance. he was even wearing the leather jacket you complimented a few times. if you weren't so pissed off, you would have found it endearing that be made this much of an effort for you.

hyuck wasn't looking back at you. now that it was just the two of you, he felt exposed and vulnerable.

"i'm um," hyuck fidgeted with his jacket's zipper, "i'm really sorry."

you had to hold back a sigh. that was such a nothing apology.

"do you even know what you're apologizing for? do you know why i'm mad?"

based on this and what he yelled in the theater, you knew he didn't.

you didn't care that he was drinking your blood. that part was whatever. you only cared that he lied to you. he repeatedly lied about it even after he said he was telling you everything, and that's something you weren't sure you could forgive.

slowly hyuck shifted his gaze to meet yours.

"you're mad that i lied to you."

ok apparently he did know.

"im so sorry for lying to you yn. i'm not trying to excuse it but can i please explain."

against your better judgment, you gave him a small nod.

maybe it was because you were so taken aback that he knew why you were upset, or because you genuinely wanted to hear what he had to say, you weren't really sure.

"jaemin didn't tell me the blood was yours, he said it was from your clone. i believed him, which was stupid because the blood tasted identical to yours. that should have tipped me off but i didn't know jaemin was insane at the time so i didn't question it."

you cocked your head at him, "you thought i was cloned?"

"he just said the blood came from someone that looked exactly like you, and i jokingly called her your clone. a little bit of me did think you were cloned for real though."

"you do know that technology hasn't been invented right?"

he held up his hands defensively, "i know that, but i didn't know vampires were real until three months ago and look where i am now."

"fair enough," you said.

"anyways, i wouldn't have drank it if i knew it was from you. the whole reason why i had jaemin get blood was to stop me from drinking yours. i should have investigated where he was getting it from, i'm sorry."

jaemin being behind it made a lot of sense, but this still didn't explain why he lied.

"i dont know if you noticed donghyuck, but i"ve been extremely understanding about this whole thing. if you had told me this upfront, i wouldn't have been upset. so why did you lie?"

he took a while to respond, lost in thought as he stared at your hands, specifically at the still-healing cut on one of them.

gently, he grabbed your injured hand, lightly tracing the scar with his index finger.

you didn't pull your hand back, even though his touch hurt. it had only been a little over a month since you got it, and while it was healing nicely, it still ached when it came in contact with anything.

"i dumped so much stuff on you at once. at the time i thought it was because i wanted to protect you, and that was definitely part of it."

you made eye contact again as he enclosed both his hands around yours.

"but there was another part of me who wanted you to think of me as your hero. as the guy who saved you from the dangerous monster, even though i was the monster who put you in that position to begin with. i made jaemin seem worse than he was to make myself seem better."

hyuck was very grateful that his heart didn't beat because he was sure you would be able to hear it if it did.

"yn, i like you. so much so that it freaks me out. i know me telling you this probably won't change anything, and i accept that. i just wanted you to know that i never meant to hurt you and i'm sorry for lying to you. i hope you can forgive me, but if not, i understand. im sorry for everything."

every time you thought you knew everything about this situation, another bomb gets dropped on you.

your brain was simultaneously filled with a million thoughts and no thoughts at all. you couldn't even begin to process what he just said.

so you didn't.

"come on," you said as you began to walk back to the movie.

"huh?"

that was not at all the response he was expecting.

"i'm going to need some time to think about everything, so for now let's go back to the movie," you explained.

"oh um, yea thats fine, take as much time as you need." hyuck awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "but i think i'll just stay out here."

you rolled your eyes. "you paid for tickets, so come watch the movie."

still, he didn't move.

"i know you want to see what chenle and jisung are doing right now."

he perked up at that.

"plus it's almost the baseball scene."

hyuck gasped.

"wait i love that scene! why are we standing here, let's go!" he excitedly exclaimed as he sped walked ahead of you.

the rest of the movie was uneventful, even with your attention split between the screen and the odd couple sitting next to you.

at one point your hands accidentally touched on the shared armrest, neither of you moving away.

you're not sure what made you do it, but something possessed you to grab his hand.

hyuck froze, not wanting to stop your actions.

the two of you held hands until the credits rolled, and for the first time since you cut your hand, it didn't hurt while touching something.

[the seat swap from chenle's perspective]

without looking, chenle knew it wasn't hyuck sitting next to him. hyuck smells like a vampire that has yet to fully shed his human skin, but the person sitting next to him reeked of desperation and way too much cologne.

if the smell didn't tip him off, the sound of this guy's heartbeat did. it was so loud that it drowned out the movie, not that he was complaining about missing the cringy dialog.

he moved to tell this dumbass to get out of hyuck's seat but stilled when he saw jisung blushing back at him.

"hi lele," jisung whispered. his excitment was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but kick his feet and shake in his seat.

for once in his life, chenle was speechless.

how the fuck was jisung sitting next to him right now.

all he could do was gawk at the boy.

"you're cute when you're surprised, but you're always cute though so i'm not surprised."

"jisung," chenle spoke slowly to not psych himself up,"how are you here right now?"

"oh donghyuck had this big plan to get to yn and he needed my help. this whole thing was his idea."

fucking hyuck.

chenle could see hyuck and yn getting out of their seats, so he quickly took out his phone to type a message for the bastard that put him in this predicament.

as hyuck passed he gave jisung a little smile and a thumbs-up, which he returned eagerly. chenle stared daggers at hyuck from behind his phone, thoughts of revenge already flooding his mind.

once his mortal enemy left the room, he tried to think about what to do, but all he could focus on was the vibrating boy next to him.

"holy shit, sit still." chenle spat, putting a hand on jisung's arm.

jisung stiffened under chenle's touch, his eyes going wide.

"woah."

seeing his reaction, chenle quickly removed his hand but jisung caught it, placing it back where it was.

"no keep it." jisung looked at chenle with puppy eyes, but his cute persona was betrayed by the nails digging into chenle's wrist.

jisung's grip hurt, but chenle would be lying if he said he didn't like it. so he kept his hand on jisung's arm, pulling away every so often to make jisung's hold tighter.

"lele can i ask you something?" jisung leaned in and whispered very close to chenle's ear.

chenle grunted in response, preparing himself for the freak shit that was about to leave his mouth.

"why do you hate twilight? i love it so much but it must be different from a vampire perspective yeah?"

the sincerity in his voice caught chenle off guard for a second time that night. no one ever asks why chenle does anything, so for someone to be genuinely curious about him was a new thing for him.

"oh you don't want to get me started."

this sent chenle on a rant that lasted the rest of the film. he was so engrossed in it that he didn't notice when jisung shifted his hand into his own.

the two of them went back and forth talking about all the good and bad things surrounding twilight, only stopping when jisung offered chenle some popcorn.

"oh what the fuck, why is there so much better." chenle heaved into his hands, the texture alone making him gag.

"what?", jisung confusedly responded, "donghyuck said you liked a lot of butter on your popcorn."

"what did i say?" hyuck asked, just coming back after his talk with yn.

"you told him i like a lot of butter? are you actually braindead?" chenle whisper-yelled over jisung.

"oh yeah, i said that because i used to love hella butter on my popcorn before i turned. and i didn't want to pay for my own popcorn so i had little ol' jisung do it." hyuck replied, patting jisung on the back and taking a handful out of the bucket.

"eugh-" hyuck frantically searched for a napkin. "holy fuck that shit is rancid!"

previous ~ masterlist ~ next

a/n: this ended up being so long, im so soz chat >_< plz ignore any mistakes, this was a bitch to edit. but how we feeling about chenji meeting !! (and hyuck/yn convo too ig😒)

taglist (open): @miyawwn @nanaxwi @mystverse @mmoonlee @chenlesfavorite @dudekiss3r @honeynanamin @haefelt @nneteyamss @iamsimplyasimp @roseangelxfuma @haechsworld @hyuck-me @catpjimin @toyoongg @sthwaaberry @kim-seungmins-gf @sunghoonsgfreal @sunflowerhae @galacticnct @slayhaechan @multifandomania @jasluvsjae @injunnie-lemon @swanyvess @hahaechans @aerivrs @kirbrary @akunoeyebrows @thegracerammy @snowyseungs @keeryverse @alethea-moon @flaminghotyourmom @elsbunny @introvertatitsfinest @ypoom151999 @1starqi @emptynote @wonswondrland @smilefordongil @onlyforyoukook @gomdoleemyson @jaehyunandonly @kukkurookkoo @lampcults @nightcat101 @hyuckna25 @yanagisprettygf @readingcucumber

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[damiansgoodgirll]

WOOOOO THE REQUESTS ARE BACK!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this day.

SO

Would it be entirely insane of me to ask for a Damian x Fem! Reader comfort fic.

Basically

Damian gets home and finds reader has had a horrible week while he was gone and he just comes home, gives her all the love.

Kisses, cuddles, hugs…comfort food.

JUST LOADED WITH ALL THE FLUFF

What ever you want, just fluff and tlc. Maybe even comfort sex if you wanna throw smut in there cause comfort.

What ever you want. I enjoy anything you write tbh.

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ a lot of comfort and love

walking zombie

you were tired.

no, not tired - exhausted. and not only physically but mentally too.

as christmas approached, work suddenly multiplied and you found yourself from working almost 12 hours a day.

barely getting any sleep or eating unhealthy food, you got to the point where you were almost ready to explode.

you and damian barely saw each other. if you were at home, he was travelling for work and if he was at home, you were either at work or passed out in bed.

you missed him. you missed his comfort, his hugs, his sweet kisses, his smile, his hands over your body. you missed him and you felt like you’ve been neglecting him, hating yourself even more.

damian understood.

he knew how much you loved your job even if he didn’t agree on the overworking part, he still supported you and tried to help you as much as he could around the house.

you didn’t know how it happened but on friday afternoon you got to leave work earlier. a smile spreading over your face as you ran into your car and drove back home.

there was peace as damian wasn’t home yet - he’s been working almost all week and you couldn’t wait to see him. he was supposed to come back around dinner time and a sweet idea of cooking him a welcome home dinner crossed your mind but the moment you stood up and reached for the kitchen, all of your energies left your body.

you loved damian so much but you weren’t in the mood for cooking. you weren’t in the mood for making a mess in the kitchen knowing that you would have to clean up everything. you just weren’t in the mood.

instead, you opted for taking a warm shower. you needed to release some stress and a shower was all that you needed. looking for something to wear, you found a damian’s hoodie and a pair of his boxers - you loved the way his clothes smelled of him - so you opted for those.

once in the shower you felt all your muscles relax and thinking that the weekend was approaching put you in a good mood. you already imagined yourself spending all weekend in bed with damian, eating chocolate and watching romantic christmas movies - that was your meaning of paradise.

feeling a little relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and did your short skin care routine before wearing your boyfriend’s clothes and heading back to the living room.

you were so eager to see him after a week that you tried your best to stay awake and wait for him but the moment your head touched the comfort of your couch, you were far gone.

a creaky noise woke you up. coming from the front door, your eyes opened a little and saw damian’s figure standing in front of you as he was putting his suitcase on the floor.

“damian…” your tired voice made him turn to look at you.

“hey mi amor, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up” he immediately apologised when he saw your sleepy face.

you fell asleep? “what - what you mean? what time is it?”

“it’s already nine o’clock” he smiled.

“what? i’ve slept for three hours? i wanted to make dinner for you and me…i can’t believe i slept all this time” you were slightly disappointed in yourself. you wanted to wait for him. you wanted to welcome him home and yet you managed to fall asleep.

“woah, mi amor, take it easy, it’s okay, you were tired and you rested a little bit, nothing’s wrong with that…” damian slowly approached you and sat down on the couch next to you.

“i wanted to make something nice for your welcome home” you confessed making him smile even more “but i fell asleep, i’m sorry…”

“why are you apologising hermosa?” his soft voice asked.

“because i really wanted to do something for you…but i just had the worst week of my life, i really missed having you here, i even took a shower to relax myself and i still managed to mess it up…” you didn’t mean to sound so vulnerable but the week that just passed took a big toll on you and you were feeling all of the stress and anxiety left behind.

“you don’t have to do anything for me hermosa” his hand gently took your chin and made you look into his eyes “you had a rough week and you have all the right to take time for yourself…in fact, why don’t you stay here, you can rest a little more if you want, i’ll take a quick shower and then i’ll order take out for the both of us? i missed you so much this week and i wanna take care of you…”

how could you say no when he asked so politely?

“okay…” you gave up knowing that he wouldn’t take a no for an answer.

“perfect” he smiled before leaving a gentle peck on your lips “rest a little mi amor, i’ll wake you up when food comes, you look like a zombie”

you laughed a little “i feel like a zombie…”

“that’s why you gotta rest” he reminded you.

softly closing your eyes, it took you less than a minute to fall back asleep. damian was cautious and trying to make less noises possible as he moved around the house.

quickly washing himself, he changed into more comfortable clothes and ordered some food. he unpacked his suitcase and once everything was done, he sat on the couch next to you. turning the tv on, he put on something fun to watch as his mind wasn’t in the mood for some kind of weird plots.

feeling a shiver down his spine, he looked at you and saw how curled up on yourself you were. he took a fluffy blanket and gently covered your body.

hearing a knock on the door, he stood up and got the food.

“amor…” he whispered in your ear, trying to wake you up gently. leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, you felt something tickling you “wake up princesa, food is ready…”

yawning, you opened your eyes and the first thing you noticed was the blanked upon your body. before you could ask damian about it, he answered for you “you seemed cold, i wanted you to be comfortable” he said.

your heart melted. damian was so thoughtful and you knew you couldn’t live without him “thank you” you genuinely smiled.

“shall we eat? cause i’m starving” he joked making you smile.

“oh absolutely…”

“here, come here baby, i wanna feel you close” damian patted next to him as you sat back on the couch “no, not there, here” he pointed to his lap.

“how are we going to eat in that position?” you asked.

“trust me, i’ll find a way, i just wanna have you close” and so you sat on his lap.

it was a little uncomfortable for him to eat but he wouldn’t tell you. he missed you and he knew that you missed him too. from the way you were laid on his chest, your head between his shoulder and neck as you ate the hamburger he got for you, watching whatever the tv was playing.

you missed soft moments like those.

once finished damian insisted that you stayed there on the couch as he cleaned the coffee table from all those food papers.

“how are you feeling hermosa?” he asked once he sat on the couch with you in his lap again.

“better…”

“yes?” he softly asked.

“yeah, i feel like it’s you…you got me in a good mood” you snuggled your head between his shoulder and face again as you inhaled his scent.

“well, i’m glad to hear that” he smiled “you tired?”

“no, not physically at least, even if my body it’s a wreck” you joked but before you could speak, damian’s hand slipped under your shirt and began to massage and softly stroke your back.

“relax your body baby, and relax your mind…i’m here now” he whispered before his lips touched the skin of your face “relax against me” and you did as he told you.

while his hand was working magic on your back, his lips kept leaving soft kisses over your face, making you completely relaxed into your lover’s arms.

“we’re gonna stay in bed all weekend baby” he whispered making you nod your head “and i’m gonna properly take care of you, you need to relax and rest” and you honestly loved that idea.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he softly looked down at you.

“thank you, for everything…”

“don’t thank me, i love you, i love taking care of you” he smiled before gently kissing you. you missed having his lips on yours “close your eyes baby, let me take control…you’re safe”

and in fact, you knew that you were in good hands.

[lovebugism]

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours. 

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while. 

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve. 

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress. 

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him. 

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely. 

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice. 

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break. 

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it. 

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

[momoswifee]

A Quiet Life

Pairing: Mina x reader

Synopsis: After some years of being together, some problems start to arise.

Warnings: The reader has abandonment issues, Mina is mean in the beginning, they love each other though. Dinking, curse words, motor accidents. They go camping.

w/c: 6003

a/n: It took so long to write this out since I didn’t really know how to do it? Idrk how to explain it but it was a bit harder than I expected. There’s more chapters coming so I hope you guys like it :)Also sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspelled words, English is not my first language.

Pt1- Pt2 - Pt3

Two years after you started dating you started to notice more and more Mina’s unhealthy commitment to her job. Of course you were amazed by her skill and how deeply connected she was to her job, but at a certain point it started to be something that had started to impact your relationship negatively. She would no longer stay at your now shared home, instead staying at her apartment even during her breaks, she would answer your texts with short “ok’s” and promises to call you later. 

Now, you sat next to her, the beeping of the machine next to you starting to give you a headache. You hadn’t been able to sleep since you had got to the hospital after Sana had called you, saying that she had found Mina fainted in her apartment. After talking to the doctors, they told you that she was severely dehydrated, underfed and probably running on caffeine. It seemed that she had been intentionally sleep-deprived so that she could do a better job with her part in the upcoming movie. 

“She is taking fluids, she will be okay.” The doctor briefly said in a comforting manner before leaving the room.

You sat right beside her bed, beating yourself up for not seeing the signs. The dodging calls, the short messages. You only thought it was due to increasing stress, you could’ve never guessed that it would’ve come to this. You were aware that Mina tended to overwork herself, but never to this extent. 

“Hmm” you hear from besides you and see Mina slowly open her eyes, a lazy smile forming on her lips as she notices you besides her. “Hi baby” she slurs out. As soon as she opens her eyes, you’re on your feet and already calling for the nurse, just hoping for someone to come and see if Mina is actually fine. “Hey, I’m fine,” she laughs out with a slight rasp, as if your actions are too much. 

“I just want to see if you’re actually fine.” You curtly say, not letting your worry lace itself into your voice. 

“I’m totally fine, they’ll probably tell you that I’m good to go.” She tells you with a smile, trying to sit up, but wincing as she sees that she doesn’t really have the strength to do it properly. 

“Don’t get up, you’re too weak for that.” You tell her sternly as you go to gently push her down so that she is laying down. 

After the nurse had come and had reassured you that everything seemed to be alright for now, you were told that a doctor would come later on to explain what to do next. 

The beeping of the machine is again the only noise in the room, as you can’t bring yourself to speak about what had happened. 

“Sana probably overreacted. I’m totally fine.” Mina says, already going through her bag to get her phone, probably to go back to work as soon as possible. 

“Give me that” You say, snatching the phone from her hands and putting it inside your pocket so that she wouldn’t be able to get her hands on it. “Do not say that Sana overreacted. You fainted. She found you on the floor, she was terrified.” You tell her as you pace around the room, already feeling agitated. 

“It was not that bad…” She tries to say. 

“Not that bad?! Mina!” You stop at her words. “The doctors said you were not eating, not drinking any water. It was something that had been going on for a while! What were you thinking!” You finally say, not even noticing you had raised your voice. “I was worried sick when I got here! Sana was frantic at the door, completely terrified for you, and you were so pale, you look sick.” You spit out.

“Oh yeah poor Sana.” She scoffs. “This is how it is. It’s what it is to work in the industry!” she lets out, letting her frustration come out as well. 

“Don’t use that as an excuse. You have tendencies of overworking yourself. Everyone knows that. I just didn’t think it would get this bad.” You say, frustrated by her attitude, turning your back to her, not wanting to escalate the situation, knowing it wouldn’t be completely fair to her.  You were just so worried about her. 

“Well, it’s my job, it’s how it works whether you like it or not!” She exclaims, getting riled up. “I’m living my dream. I got here on my own, and I worked damn hard to get here.” She continues, forcing herself up to stress her point. “I feel sorry for you. You lost the opportunity of completing your dream. You got hurt and were put off, but guess what! We can’t all spend our days at the shop doing arts and crafts on old furniture or just picking up fruit.” She says rolling her eyes, finding your mini outburst almost ridiculous, mind still clouded with her want to go back to work. “I’m sorry your dream of becoming a famous player didn’t work out,” she continues, not showing signs of stopping. “But I have worked hard to get here, and I’m not going to let a failed hockey player turned arts and crafts kid dictate how I live my life.” 

Every single word she spits out feel like a punch to the gut. You don’t even realize tear had fallen until you feel the salty water slip through your parted lips. “You didn’t sleep for days.” You sigh, closing your eyes, trying to not let her words cloud your judgement. “I hope you’re saying all of this because of this high you’re running on and not because these are thoughts you actually believe in.” You say, now looking her straight in the eye, clenching your fists, hurting your finger from pressing on the promise ring mina had given you on your 2nd year anniversary. “I’m worried about you, and I am asking you to please stop this.” You say, hurt still clear on your face from her previous hurtful words, as you get closer to her bed, taking her hand in yours. 

“Leave then.” Mina says, almost snarling, anger clearly etched on her features as she rips her hand angrily from your gentle ones,  

“Mina…” You say, voice cracking, your hand gaining a mind of its own as it tries to hold hers again. 

“No! Leave. If I’m such a nuisance, if my work habits are too much for you, there’s the door.”

“I-.” You sigh, not finding strength to go on again. “Ok.” You get up, take the phone from your pocket and let it fall on her side, and her hand instead of going to yours, as it was still stubbornly waiting for hers, takes her phone quickly. 

You can only look at her with something alike to disdain. The more you look at her, the more weight you feel on your right hand, the ring looking misplaced. With a final sigh, you take it off and gently place it on the table. As you leave her room, you quickly send a message to Sana to let her know that Mina had woken up and that you would leave for a little while.

Once inside your car, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually turn it on, keys still clenched in your hands. After finally gaining the courage to start the car, you start driving aimlessly and suddenly find yourself in front of Jihyo’s apartment complex. You get out of the car and fight yourself on whether you should ring her door or not, not feeling like you should bother her. As you internally fight yourself on that, you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. 

“Yn hey, it’s fine” Jihyo says, after seeing you almost jump away from her when she touches you. “Did we have plans?” 

“Uh no- I- I’m sorry no, I just-” You start, stumbling over your words, not knowing what to say exactly. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” she quickly says, grabbing your shoulders, seeing your distressed state. “Let’s go upstairs, we can talk there, yeah?” she asks, guiding you to her flat. 

After you finally tell her all about what had happened, you finally feel comfortable enough to let out a broken sigh, triggering your tears. 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it, but I-” you gasp in between. “I was so worried when Sana called. When I got there, she looked so pale, so unlike herself.” You say while trying to calm yourself, hastily trying to wipe off your tears. 

“Look,” Jihyo starts, sighing, not knowing exactly what to say. “I’m calling Jeongyeon, see if she can get here. You’re sleeping here, I’m not letting you go back home in this state.” she says, getting up from the couch. “I’m getting you some clothes, you go take a shower because you reek of hospital.” she continues, trying to lighten up the mood with her final statement, successfully drawing a small smile from you. 

As soon as you felt the warm water hit your skin, the tension from the fight started to dissolve, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about Mina’s words. Did she actually see you as a joke? As, as she put it, a child? You felt sick. 

Once out of the shower and into Jihyo’s old clothes, you start going towards her kitchen and suddenly hear Jihyo discussing something over the phone.  

“I don’t care if she’s worried sick! Do you know what she told Yn?” Jihyo angrily whispers, trying to speak as quietly as she can so that you would not hear it. “She was awful to her, and I understand that she’s in a vulnerable place, but she does not have the right to say that to Yn.” 

“Hey, Jihyo called. I got food.” Jeongyeon says from behind you, startling you again. 

“Gosh, you really didn’t have to,” You turn to her, half forgetting about Jihyo’s discussion. “You really didn’t have to come.” 

“Of course I did, she understands.” She says, rolling her eyes playfully at your behaviour. “Come” she says, gently grabbing your arm, guiding you to a table. 

As she makes a plate for you, after much resistance from you, you feel Jihyo come to sit next to you. 

“Sana called.” she sighs. “Mina is worried about you.” she continues, attentive to your reaction, which turns out to only be a low hm, which shocks both your friends. Not wanting to bring you any kind of discomfort, they decide to leave it behind and just try and have an enjoyable dinner. Once you were done, you shooed them away so you could put the dishes away. 

“I’ll go there tomorrow. Maybe she’ll have a clearer head.” You whisper, head comfortably laid on the oldest shoulder, as you three watch a passing movie on the TV. 

“I have a free day tomorrow; I’ll drive you there.” Jihyo tells you, not leaving any room for discussion. 

As soon as you hear their deep breaths and light snores signalling their sleeping state, you turn your phone back on. Once it’s up and running, you see all the messages sent to you, most of them being apologies from Mina. As you read them you debate if you should answer her, if you should give her the comfort of knowing that you’re ok and have read her messages. You decide not to. 

❂

“We’re going to be there, if anything happens, we can just leave.” Jihyo says as you both walk the hospital corridors towards Mina’s room. 

“I just have to talk to her, nothing is going to happen,” you tell them, laughing at their overprotective expressions. 

When you see the door of her room, you feel all the confidence you had been building throughout the morning vanish instantly, and all the words said to you previously come rushing back as soon as you’re inside the room and eye to eye with Mina.

“Yn” Mina gasps out, immediately trying to get up from the bed. 

“No, keep down, you still look weak.” You rush out to her side, not wanting her to get up so quickly. 

“The doctors said I can go home today, I look worse than I actually am” she says with a little laugh, trying to get you to laugh as well but only receiving a nod from you. 

“We’ll leave you to it.” Sana says, breaking the silence, dragging Jihyo with her. 

“I’m staying here with Yn”

“They need to talk, let's go”

“I-” Mina starts after you were left alone. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” You ask her, still not looking at her, choosing to stare out of the window instead. 

“No!” she quickly says. “I- I don’t know why I said those things,” she continues with a pained expression. “I’m sorry, Yn, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Mina I-” you sigh, going to sit next to her, noticing her state of distress. “I’m sure you meant some of it-

“I didn’t!” she cuts you off, grabbing your hands, desperate to make you understand. "I don't think any of those things. Those are some of the parts of you that I love the most." She continues, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "The way you so carefully pick the fruit, the way you tend so caringly to your garden is just amazing to me, every time I go back home and see you do those things I feel filled with so much love for you, you don't understand..." She trails off. "I adore the way you, with your masterful hands, craft beautiful pieces for our and others home. I can't even look away when I see you so tenderly restore some pieces that were thrown away by others." She says, stressing her words by bringing your hands to her lips and gently placing small kisses on your knuckles.

“I don’t know why I said those things. I was stressed, I was anxious with all of it and I redirected that to you because I know deep down those are things about yourself that you sometimes doubt are even useful. I shouldn’t have done it, it’s no excuse.” 

“I-” you start at a loss for words after her small confession. “Mina…” you say, looking at your intertwined hands. “I think I understand, but it still hurt.” you continue. “And I need you to try and take a break from all of it. I need you to rest.”

“You can’t just ask me that.” She frowns.

“Mina you-” you say, taking in a breath not wanting to get frustrated with her, knowing this is just how her mind has been wired for a while. “You were sent to the hospital. Can’t you see that you need a break?”

“Can’t you see that you’re asking me to take a break from something that I love? I just told you how good you are at doing things that you love, how can you ask me to stop doing the same?” she weakly asks, taking slowly her hand away from yours. 

“The doctor said you were okay to go home, that you’re good to enough to leave the hospital, not to go back to work.” You try, as gently as possible. “You have to take a break, I’m not asking you to leave your work behind, I know that it’s what makes you, you. I’m just asking you to take a breath at home, regain your energy, maybe in the meantime you’ll understand that what you’re doing isn’t exactly healthy.”

“I’ll follow the doctors’ orders for now, we can work on the other part later, ok?” she asks, making you almost instantly give in, although you weren’t at all satisfied with the suggested compromise, thinking to yourself that you would just keep an eye on her and then start working on her overworking tendencies.

❂

Mina hadn't been able to see you in a while since she had been abroad filming her final scenes in an upcoming movie and the distance had taken a toll on both of you. She missed you, she missed her house. When she was finally done with filming her final scenes, she booked the ticket as soon as possible to go home to you. 

As soon as she pulls up in the driveway, she is faced with something she had missed: you running around the garden chasing a very wet Otis with a hose in his mouth. 

"You come here!" You say as you chase Otis around the backyard, trying to stop him from going inside. 

"What is going on?" Mina asks, unable to contain her laughter, as she gets out of the car and runs to the porch, out of the war zone. 

"I-" you stop for a minute to regain your breath. "Mina" you say smiling at her, starting to walk up to her and engulfing her in a hug. "I missed you" you whisper, voice muffled by her shoulder. “You should’ve told me you were coming back! I thought it was only by the end of the week!”

She laughs and hugs you just as tight, kissing your head. "I missed you too, just wanted to surprise you."

Suddenly you both hear a bark, making you quickly pull away to see what had happened, only to see Otis completely covered in mud. 

"You know, that had to be replaced anyway..." Mina says laughing as she watches you chase around your dog. 

"Didn't have to be replaced because of this" you say, out of breath, already with the hose in hand, looking down to your clothes now as dirty as him. 

After finally being able to catch him and bringing him for a long bath, he has returned to his previous white fur and was sprawled on top of Mina as they watched the news, and you cooked dinner.

"Is he interested on the rise of the prices of housing in central Europe?" You ask, watching over both of them attentively. 

"Oh yeah, he had plans of getting a house there and maybe settling down, but I guess he'll have to look elsewhere." She says, caressing behind Otis's ears. 

"Oh yeah definitely, after the stunt he pulled today, he's going to have to compensate the damage with a week of his pay cheque"

"A week?!" She exclaims in mock offence, twisting her neck to be able to look at you. "He's such a hard worker, and you just take all of that from him?" 

"Shouldn't have flooded the garden." You say shrugging. 

"Oh bud, she doesn't deserve your love." Mina says pushing her face into his fur, kissing him to comfort him over his salary being reduced, making you laugh at the sight. 

As you were dicing some of the vegetables you see Mina's hands sneak around your waist and feel her face behind pressed against your back. 

"I missed this," she says, voice muffled. "You being a complete asshole to our son, watching you cook us dinner"

"You ass" you say laughing turning around in her arms after her comment. "I was not an asshole to Otis"

She only laughs, head slightly tilted, giving you her best smile. "Tomato, Tomato"

"There is no Tomato or Tomato in this situation" you chuckle, resting your head on her shoulder. 

"Eh there is" she continues, not willing to 'let you win'. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" she finally asks, stepping a little away from you so that you can tend to the food. 

"Hmm" you say as you move to look over the sizzling fish, still feeling her hand softly on your hip. "I was thinking we could stay in?" you suggest, to which she quickly agrees, eager to spend some quality time with you. 

Once you're in bed waiting for Mina to join you after she finishes her night routine, you decide to read one last chapter. Since you were too engrossed into the book, you didn't even feel the bed dip beside you and Mina's presence until she adjusts your falling glasses. 

"You need to get them adjusted," she whispers curling up next to your sitting frame, making you immediately drop the book and take off your glasses to join her. 

"They're perfectly fine." You assure her, bringing her closer to you and nuzzling your face into her neck, feeling her hair tickling your face. Not feeling energized to answer, she only hums appreciating the warmth of your skin against hers.

❂

Mina took every opportunity to be with you, not taking any moment for granted, just wanting to be near you. Once you noticed she was spending more and more time with you, even at work (not that you were at all complaining) you eventually asked if she'd like to help in the shop. You had to admit that it was nice to have her around you almost all the time. The time she had spent abroad filming her movie had been hard on both of you. 

After finally finding a day that worked for everyone, you all organized a camping outing between friends by the lake nearby. The difficult part wasn’t making time and finding free time in between schedules, the difficult time was Mina finding the courage to wake you up, so now there she laid you on top of her, head snuggled into the crock of her neck, letting out soft snores.  Even though she had already been home for some time now, Mina still took a deep breath after she woke up every day. The little lavender accents that she had added when she moved in with you, your citrus fragrance lingering in the air, it was all everything she could ask for. After completely waking up, she noticed you were still asleep, and she couldn't bear to wake you up.

She gently moved you so that you wouldn't wake up and quietly went to the kitchen to prepare you both breakfast and everything to take for the picnic. 

“I don’t think I like this new habit of yours where you just don’t wake me up and do everything yourself.” You slur out as you lazily walk into the kitchen straight towards her.

“You look too peaceful to wake up, I always hate doing that.” 

You hum against her back before letting go, groaning as you stretch your arms out, exposing some of your skin as your shirt rides up. 

“You know…” you hear from behind, feeling her hands already sneaking up your shirt, tickling your skin. “We can just say we caught the flu and stay in?” She says, kissing up your jaw. 

“They’ll kill us.” You try, but not making any attempt to move away from her. 

She only non-committally nods in response to your reasoning, leaning in to brush her lips against yours. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine”. She pulls you in by the waist, her hands creeping up your back as she finally leans in to kiss you. 

As you’re getting busy, not even thinking about the outing that had been planned with your friends, your phone starts to ring. 

“I’m killing whoever is calling you,” Mina whispers against your lips, hands secure on your waist, not wanting to let you go. 

“I swear to everything holy, if you’re not ready to go I’m coming over and putting you inside the trunk of my car”

“I’ve always loved your good mornings, so supportive, so wholesome.” you say rolling your eyes as you pick up the phone, looking over to a questioning Mina on your side. “It’s Jihyo.” you whisper to her. 

“I would be nice if you had a record of being on time you know?”

“I’m always on time!”

Since you seemed to be too occupied with the call and no longer focusing on her, Mina decided to finish packing the fruits before letting you know she would be going to get ready, 

“We’ll be there on time, but you do realize it’s just a picnic, right?” you ask her, half amused, as you put the drinks inside the cooler. 

“I’m well aware, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Sure, I’m still in my pjs but we’ll be there on time”

“You’re still on your-”

“Bye!” you say, cutting her off, happy with yourself for riling her up a little.

❂

“I told you to get those tightened,” Mina says as she watches your glasses slide off your face as you lean down to pick up the cooler. “Last week they almost fell into the dishwasher.” 

“I know…” You say, adjusting said glasses. “I planned on going yesterday, but then I had to stay at the shop, so I didn’t really get a chance.”

“She could’ve just got them tightened when we went to pick them out, but she didn’t want to say anything.” Jihyo shrugs, coming up from behind you to help take off more of the food from the car.

“They were good at the time, they were not as loose, shut up.” You say, walking towards the pebbles near the lake. 

“They were, you just avoid talking to other people when it comes to things like this, so now you have extra loose glasses,” Jeongyeon adds as she follows the two of you. 

“I’ll go right after the weekend.” You groan, rolling your eyes playfully at their insistence. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m older than you” Jihyo says, pinching your arm playfully

“By two months??” you exclaim, rubbing your arm

“Still older” she shrugs

After setting up the tents at the camping park, you take a walk down to the lake. Once you arrive, you are met with a beautiful body of water in yellow and greenish shades, surrounded by big trees with branches so big they were almost covering the sky. There were little frogs leaping through the little pebbles and fish swimming through the algae. You decide to sit up on the grass near the rocks, seeming like a good place to stay to enjoy the quiet. 

“This deck will need fixing soon…” Jeongyeon says as she picks up a loose wooden part at the beginning of it. Her concerns fall on deaf hears as she sees you running past her with a very competitive Jihyo right behind you towards the water.

Mina had decided to just sit at the edge of it, happy to just watch you all swim around, it not being her favourite activity. She was satisfied with just watching you have fun. Her eyes were stuck on you when suddenly you decided to dive and didn’t come right up. As she goes to get up, worry already starting to spread to her, you come up for air, right next to where she stood, giving her a silly smile, making her heart melt and worry disappear.

"Thought I lost you there," she says, returning your smile, tracing little stars on your wet shoulders. 

"Were you worried?” you ask laughing. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily". 

“I’m glad.” She says, looking down at you lovingly. If she weren’t in public with all your friends watching, she would’ve probably let herself fall into the water to kiss all over your face. Instead, you both just stayed there for a while, simply basking in each other’s presence, not seeing any need in getting out. 

“Mina?” Sana called out. “Your agent is calling you!”

“On a Sunday of all days.” Mina grumbles as she gets up quickly, annoyed for having her quiet time interrupted.  

You only chuckle, continuing to swim through the warm water. 

“I thought she was on holiday?” Jihyo asks, swimming towards you, flicking water from her fingers to your face. 

“Yup, must be something to do with the press tour? ‘m not sure though…” 

After a while of mindless talking, Mina comes back with a small smile on her face. 

“So?” 

“I just have to go to the office next week, have some papers to sign because of a deal.” she happily says, sitting again on the deck.

“That’s really good!” You say as you swim towards her, kissing the hand dangling into the water. “If you want, I can drive you there.” You suggest, gaining the immediate approval of your friend. 

“Yes, please, I have been trying to get her to come try the new ice rink that just opened up.”  She says, shaking you by the shoulders. 

“Why are you shaking me, you turd?” You say, shaking her hands away from you, spitting out the water you almost swallowed.  

“ ‘Cuz I want you to come play with me” She retorts. 

“Sana?” Mina calls. “Want to arrange a play date? These two want to hang out.”

“Aw yeah, of course, here’s my phone.” She says, handing her phone to Mina and getting in on the little joke. “Put your number in, and we’ll arrange it!”

They only laugh more when they see you both staring at them with no reaction. 

“Do they think they’re funny?” Jihyo asks, looking at you, still with no expression on her face.

 “I think they think they’re hilarious.”

After deciding that you were taking Mina to the agency and later going to play with Jihyo, you let yourself be swallowed by the water, still hearing Mina’s melodious laugh through the water surrounding you. Out of nowhere, a crashing sound is heard, right to your left, making you look right away. There is Mina, smiling at you with the thin sun rays illuminating her face, wiggling towards you to bring you closer to her. Once close enough, she softly plants her lips on yours in a brief kiss, before grabbing your hand and swimming up to get you both to the surface. 

❂

“...no I don’t think you understand,” Jeongyeon laughs. “Those two during Halloween were just not the little saints everyone thought they were.” she continues as she points to you and Jihyo, both annoyed by her idea of sharing childhood stories. 

“Whatever she says is going to be greatly exaggerated, just so you know.” Jihyo cuts in, as she prepares the meat. 

“Agreed, what we did was perfectly reasonable”

“Anyway, during Halloween,” she continues, ignoring your objections. “Those two loved to dress up in the most elaborate costumes to get as much candy as possible. So, one year they devised a plan. They canvassed the houses in town to see where they handed most of the candy. A week before Halloween they arranged a little stand on the playground and lured kids in, saying they had a map of the best places to get candy. They told them that to get the map, they had to pay 1 dollar, and since a lot of kids thought this was a great idea, almost everyone gave them the money. Yn to rile them in even gave a speech about how people were starting to care less about actually giving out candy, that children no longer need that much sugar in their tiny bodies.” By that point, you get up and go to Jihyo’s side. 

“Think Mina will ever let me near her nephew again?” 

“I mean it’s not like we actually did something bad,” she says, and even if you’re not directly facing her, you know she has a big smile on her face. 

“...turns out, that was a map of the health brigade parents, that at the time were just giving out fruit and stuff like trail mix. Those two went to all the right houses and since no kid had shown up all night, they got all the candy from these oh so innocent kind-hearted people. They were thrilled and ran home as soon as possible with all the candy they got their tiny hands on.” By then Mina has her head thrown back, laughing at your idiotic plans from when you were ten, and for once you thanked Jeongyeon for airing your stories out. 

“I had to be their bodyguard for like a week since there were a lot of angry kids after them,” Jeongyeon says in between laughs. “They were lucky they had a friend in a higher grade to ‘protect’ them.” She proudly ends. 

“You took 30 percent of our candies, you didn’t do it for free.” You grumble as you sit in your previous spot. “So please get out of your high horse.”

“Well,” she starts grinning at your annoyed face. “My services aren’t for free-”

“You also ratted us out to our parents,” Jihyo says cutting her off. 

“You got grounded?” Mina asks, laughing at you both. 

“I did, had to give out half of the candy to the other kids…” Jihyo complains, letting her head fall on Sana’s shoulder. 

“My dad just took half my sweets, he said it wasn’t that bad of an idea, just poorly executed.” You shrug with a smile on your face. 

“Yeah, you’re not going to be allowed to be alone with my nephew again, you’ll corrupt him.” Mina teasingly says.

The night goes on, and more stories are shared until Mina and Sana are saying their good nights and going to their tents, leaving you and your friends behind. 

“It’s a shame Nayeon couldn’t come.” Jihyo says after a moment of silence, gaining hums of agreement. 

“Yeah, but she couldn’t just fly in, she had the business trip planned for a while.”

“Speaking off…” Jihyo starts, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Have you picked it up?”

“How was that even related?”

“I- uh yeah” you say, picking up your phone to show them a picture of it. 

“Hm, you picked well.” Jeongyeon tells you, her hand squeezing your shoulder. 

You could only smile at them, happy to have their support through all of this. From the moment you called them in a state akin to panic to this very moment. You couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to finally ask Mina. 

❂

“Ok so, I’ll call you but I’m probably going to be done by 7, and we can grab dinner.” Mina offers through the window of your car. 

“We’re probably done by 7-7:30? She said it was right by her house but it’s 30 minutes out.”

“I’ll wait at Sana’s then. The agency is not too far from her house, I can catch an Uber or something.”

Once you’re done with the little drills in the new rink, you wait for Jihyo to finish up hers. 

“So, have you given it more thought? Do you know when you’ll be popping the question?” Jihyo says, skating to you after putting in some pucks. 

“I’m not sure? She’s going on her press tour soon, so I think I’ll wait for a bit,” you say getting up to help her with her gear.  “I have all the time in the world.” You add with a lovesick smile. 

“You’re insufferable I hate it.” She says jokingly, taking off her helmet. “Help me carry these out, the kids didn’t storage them.” She points to the cones next to the wall. 

Once out of the rink and ready to pick Mina up after a short shower, you’re both inside the car and Jihyo is deep in her feels, blasting “Casual” by Chappell Roan. 

“You are in a stable relationship, why are you screaming like someone took your heart out and stomped on it?” you question laughing at her behavior. 

“I just imagined a scenario so that I could sing it with passion, obviously” she simply answers, not caring about your teasing comment. “No way!” She suddenly says. 

“What?” You quickly answer, alert to whatever danger she might me pointing out.

“Look over there,” she says, pointing at the tree you were about to pass. “There are owls here too!” she excitedly tells you. 

You laugh at that but do take your eyes off the road for a second to look at them. If you hadn’t, you would have noticed that the driver didn’t see his stop sign and was heading straight to you.

[nadinescholtes]

Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question

What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?

I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.

Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?

Hi, thank you!

She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.

But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.

If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.

Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.

Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.

Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.

Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.

She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.

They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.

But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.

And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.

Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.

This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.

She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.

So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.

He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."

Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?

If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.

She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".

Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.

Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.

And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.

He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!

He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.

Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.

I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.

Part2

[tinybeetiny]

Disrespected: P.S

NonIdol!SeonghwaXafab!Reader

Angst

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

CW: angst, explicit language, insulting, encouraging behavior, shitty Seonghwa (i literally love this man so freaking much it’s unhealthy), shitty everyone honestly except you…. You’re literally perfection

Part 2: Happy ending Part 2: Other Ending

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

“Jeez Hwa you’re still with her?” One of his friends laughed while they gathered on his couch “Shh San she’s literally sleeping in my room” Seonghwa hushed “oh come on dude you gotta let us know what you see in her, she’s so plain. Is it the sex?” Wooyoung questioned. Seonghwa rolled his eyes “I mean he’s right Hwa. She doesn’t want to do anything with us and she barely lets you hang out with us” this time Jongho chimed in. At this point all the boys were trashing you not realizing you had woken up and heard every single word and what hurt the most is that Seonghwa jumped in. “You know there’s times when we’re talking on the phone and I made the excuse that I have practice or I have to study just to get off the phone because I’m so bored” He laughs “dude the one time you told me to call you acting like there was an emergency so you could get out of that movie date” Wooyoung laughed “I mean in all seriousness. Why don’t you just break up with her?” Yunho asked “I think I’m used to the company and I like how much she likes me” Seonghwa shrugged “trust me if found someone more entertaining I’d definitely leave” he laughed. Suddenly Hongjoongs face dropped, feeling the presence behind him Seonghwa turned and was meet with you tear filled eyes. You were out the door before he could even process you standing there. “Oh shit” Mingi sighed. Seonghwa raced out to catch you but you were already long gone.

[popawritter12]

Yandere! Lin Kuei clan x Fem! Reader

Author's Notes: GUYS I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY EVERYONE LOVES BI-HAN (Yes, probably because he has terrible tits- BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT). I think that he is bitter from start to finish but IDK there are colors for tastes.

Also, this one-shots is from a Wattpad request

(Don't let my favoritism towards Tomas be noticed jsadhjasfa &lt;;3)

-

Yandere Characters: Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Tomas Vrbada, (mention of Sektor and Bi-han, Kuai Liang and Tomas's father)

From the video game/manga/anime/series/movie: Mortal Kombat 1 (World of "the new age" as I investigated)

Case: Confinement, forced adoption, unhealthy obsession, extremely strange "family" relationships.

Warnings: NO, SUB-ZERO'S FATHER AND DOES NOT WANT TO FUCK THE PROTAGONIST, HE WAS OBSESSED WITH HAVING HER AS A DAUGHTER (I'll clarify just in case)

Finished: Yes

-

You still had vague memories of the last time you were free, or the last time you were with your mother. For many nights the question of your mother's whereabouts echoed in your head. However, it wasn't that long before your father's disappearance knocked on your door.

In the middle of the night, a group of warriors from the Lin Kuei clan found your dying father, who only had one last wish; Let the men who found him take care of his little daughter.

He didn't know them, he didn't even know their names, but something in his heart pumped in such a way that it only announced his time, and only "Protect my daughter" came out of his mouth.

He didn't even know why he said it, but in his heart there was only the desire to protect that little girl that he adored so much.

The warriors who were in charge of burying your father had to notify you of your existence, and the existence of a now orphaned girl generated some curiosity in several warriors.

And when the leader of that generation of warriors learned who the man who had died was, he only generated some surprise and anger.

It is there that, after asking the universe so much and mainly asking himself what he should do, he decided to call a clan meeting.

In the midst of all the doubts about why the leader called all the Lin Kuei, there was only one sentence which unleashed the beginning of chaos.

—One of my best friends, one of the people I loved most in my life, died in the hands of some thieves —The man began —, and his daughter, (Name) (Last name), is lost in the middle of the crowd, in "A town not far from here." The man looked up, the crowd realizing the seriousness in his words. His last wish, as the father of a little girl, and of a warrior who once belonged to this clan, is that we take care of his first-born daughter.

All the men and women present noticed that, amidst all the façade of concern for a friend's last will, they noticed that there was a hint of insecurity behind his words. It was a sensation that generated some intrigue as to who this young woman was.

—I strongly request that you investigate her whereabouts, and bring her to be part of the Lin Kuei from now on.

The chaos had begun, and the woman behind the mirror only longed for one thing from the bottom of her soul; May she find an escape from the chaos that was to come.

Even Liu Kang himself had a bad feeling, which heralded a change in the most powerful clan in the entire land. A change which began a breakdown in the clan's principles.

-

The dawn marked her presence in an imposing manner with its tormenting solar rays, while the crowing of the roosters echoed in all the nearby fields, a harmonious song that seemed to strain their vocal cords just to cause such a noise. And it was a noise that was as annoying as cutting onions.

The glass of the window collided with the first rays of the sun, and the temperature of the room began to rise where the solar lights shine. And just as those lights collided with the fabrics covering the young woman's body, a grunt of protest came from her, her body moving off the mattress, the friction making soft noises throughout the room as she felt the cold of the dark wood against her. the transparent fabrics.

Even with the discomfort of the floor, her heavy, closed eyelids refused to move even an inch, and her muscles only relaxed against the coldness of the wood.

Three soft knocks against the wood sounded from the other side, while the young woman only pressed her face against her wrinkled pillow.

—(Name), Are you awake?

She pretended not to know anything, and her head was cradled against the soft, cotton-filled fabric. Her fingers approached the fabric that covered the rest of her body, and her nails dug against the loom, only dragging to cover a part of her jaw and leave the soles of her feet. in the air.

—(Name), I'm going to pass.

The screech of wood opening and old metal moving invaded the woman's ears, generating a certain tremor in her eardrums. But even then, pr

He continued without separating his eyelids.

The man moved quietly, the softness of his steps at the same time as he tried not to move too much to the bed. The soft aroma of the lavender scented sheets and the sound of the leaves moving to the sound of the wind, gently colliding against the wood of the house. With each step, he just tried to see throughout the room some trace of disorder, but he was all pretty well done to make a complaint.

Since the girl took charge of issuing a complaint when she felt how her only free hand was suppressed against the ground.

The man took several steps back, now giving more firmness to his posture in his final retreat.

—What the hell is wrong with you?!

The brown-haired man's gaze lowered gently, noticing how a figure emerged from the ground, barely lifting his body. A sudden movement of the woman's wrist was heard as more moans came from her lips.

—That hurts… —she whispered with her voice barely high-pitched.

The man noticed the mistake he had made in taking steps, and only gasped angrily, lowering his shoulders along with the tension in his body.

—Are you sleeping on the floor again?!

—Stepping on my hand again, Liang?!

The two exchanged glances after a few seconds, a stinging pain spreading tension and burning through the skin and muscles of her injured limb.

—How many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn't sleep on the floor? —The man in yellowish clothes complained —, it's not healthy, and you leave everything lying around as soon as you get up.

—Yes, yes, yes… Whatever you say —The woman clicked her tongue, —, not even your dad was so complaining about me sleeping on the floor.

The man rolled his eyes, before kneeling on his feet. His gaze was fixed on the injured skin, and the circular movement that (Last Name) exerted with her wrist, trying to keep her body from focusing on the stinging burning in her hand. A somewhat heavy sigh left him, before her hand took his hand, her fingers taking gentle walks over her skin.

—It hurts?

A question so stupid but so loaded with worry that he asked her between nausea and wanting to jizz in her face, but he just shook his head, taking her wrist now. The man, even with his muscular build, allowed himself to be manipulated by the woman's soft movements.

—Yes, you idiot —she joked, before releasing the wrist of the man in front of her —, but I just need an ointment to calm the pain."

The look of doubt on her face didn't leave her grimace, but she just accepted her hasty excuse.

—Why did you come so early? —The woman asked, before taking the pillow and placing it on the mattress again.

Liang wasn't specifically someone who liked to interrupt people, especially her, so the few times he did, it wasn't especially for pleasure.

—Things happened, —he whispered, before moving from her position to get back up. —Can you go to the living room? Tomas wanted to tell you something.

The woman's face scrunched up a little, confused as to why the gray-haired man wanted to talk to her, but she assumed it was some kind of warning or something.

—Alright.

She gave gentle tugs on her muscles before moving her feet to stand up. The woman looked quite overwhelmed by the lights coming from her window, but she just ran her palms across her eyes, her back leaning back solely to stretch her lower back muscles.

It had been some time since the war, and she heard only prattle of the events of the great war that had been fought between this world and others. For some reason, a deja vu passed through (Name)'s mind after hearing what happened during those fights, as if in her soul, she knew something about the events of the war.

However, she just shook her head. The grimace on her face changed to a gentle smile as she greeted some newcomers from the clan, while her rigid body became accustomed to moving around the large place that until that day you dared to call home.

And at one point, she ran into someone particularly well-known, mostly because of her distinctive hair color. She smiled, giving a gentle click of her tongue against her teeth as her steps quickened a little, but maintained a certain stealth.

(Name), being close enough to the man —Particularly a couple of centimeters from his body, or rather her back—, she almost jumped on top of him, wrapping her arms around the edge of the waist of her. A soft gasp came from the man, his body generating some tension as he felt her hands so close to the gray garments, gently squeezing the fabric against his skin.

The man smiled after realizing who had made such a 'deadly attack', and her shoulders released their tension after a few seconds.

—Hello, (Name) —The man greeted.

The woman smiled, before walking away from him.

—How have you been, Tomás? —The woman asked, now located next to him.

—I'm better than I expected, luckily, —he replied, his gaze escaping to rom where he was looking to admire the girl next to him.

The two exchanged words, a conventional conversation typical of two people who had known each other for years that resembled a sibling relationship more than anything else. However, that was the thought the woman had about how they both looked in the eyes of other people.

He told her what the end of the war was like, and the "extra jobs" that both he and his brother did after said event. Even as boring as what he explained to her was, you just nodded silently while he continued talking to her.

But, to (Name)'s surprise, the people that she previously found everywhere around the house began to leave, or rather, began to stop appearing in her circle of vision, but the woman was not very focused.

It wasn't long before they arrived at a vast place full of plants and flowers, the bright colors spread harmoniously throughout the place, with a table in the middle of the grass. From the warmest colors to the coldest and dullest adorned the place, while the metal table and chairs of the same material with a spongy padding on the part where the weight of the body rested.

It was a special place for her, being one of the few outdoor places that she could access without having to ask the grandmaster for permission, and one where she hung out the most with your best clan friends.

When you sat down, Tomas sat next to her, his words pausing for a second as both of them gazed at the soft colors that adorned the garden.

—(Name) —He called you.

—Yeah?

—There's something I've wanted to tell you for a while —the man said, —, it's something I wanted to tell you but I never found the words to say it correctly.

—Well, that's new. —She leans back gently against the chair —, so, tell me.

—It's… complicated, you know? After so long of us being friends.

Her words seemed to take a very obvious direction, but the young woman did not seem very excited, just curious about what her best friend wanted to tell her.

—It sounds like something important, may I know what it is?

But there was no response, and not specifically because Smoke wanted it that way.

—Smoke! —A scream was heard in the distance.

Both of them looked at who called the man near them, turning out to be the young man that you and Smoke had known for a long time, but never as well as Smoke or Bi-Han, or his brother.

—Sector? —Smoke asks, intrigued —what's going on?

He stands up from the chair, moving to stand in front of she. She didn't notice it because she only saw his back, but there was a serious grimace on his face, knowing that a bad event was approaching.

—I need to talk with you.

His brow furrowed, as that feeling in his head that something bad was about to happen grew like a graph rising exponentially. The gray-haired man asked her to go to her room, which confused her, after all, why did she need to get away from someone she knew as well as Sektor?

She shook her head, her eyes closing for a moment before she snapped back to reality, and decided to get up. Obeying the request—although it was more like an order—from her best friend, she couldn't even say goodbye to Sektor, because the tension in the air didn't allow it.

She left the garden, getting away from everything to be able to access her inner thoughts, which you always kept locked in her room. In her face, which was always that of someone carefree, dropped to a thoughtful grimace; It had been several weeks since she stopped seeing Bi-Han, and both Liang and Smoke refused to talk to her about him, dodging your question almost in an Olympic manner.

You shook your head, trying not to go overboard with her thoughts, so as to vent the darkness of her soul on pages full of ink in Morse code. However, when she opened the door, she was surprised that someone was already waiting for her.

With his characteristic bluish clothes accompanied by his hair tied up and a permanently serious face in any situation —which he did not let her see because he had his back to you—, she saw him, the man from whom she heared so much expected even to know his whereabouts.

—"It is then that, by mere self-awareness, I notice that nothing is the same. For a long time I mistakenly thought that they were only kind to me, but inside me, very buried deep in my soul, I knew that the lie was extensive, a which had invaded my life and brought me to a point of no return, now I ask myself, over and over again, what can I do to escape them?"

A noise of piles of pages suddenly colliding with others in a book is heard. It is then that he extends that dusty book into your range of vision, allowing you to see where he had gotten those words from.

—I always figured you weren't as dumb as the former grandmaster led us to believe, —Bi-Han explained, his serious voice sounding surprisingly relaxed —after all, you were going to be my wife one day.

The woman shook her head, her jaw rubbing against her bottom and top teeth.

—My father taught me that I should get a woman who had a lot of intelligence, one who could help me and that I would give her the same help in return —He began his explanation—, and when he picked you up from that house, I thought you were going to be that woman.

He got up from the ground, while (Name) stepped back, but the moment she wanted to open the door and leave, she realized that it was closed, and locked. When trying to push against the door, someone responded by exerting much more pressure against the wood to prevent it from being opened.

—But, I was unpleasantly surprised that he didn't want you for that —The man threw her book on the bed —, he wanted you for himself, he wanted you to be his perfect daughter, the girl who was destined for a life of her own. , or rather, to a life with him.

She shook her head again and again, her gaze dropping to the ground, fixating on the remains of destroyed metal on the ground in front of the window.

—He wanted you for himself, he wanted you to be just his daughter until the end of his life, and that when he died, you would be left alone, taking care of this place as if it were yours —The man gritted his teeth —, and he became obsessed with the idea that you really were his blood daughter.

The woman's heart palpitations were such that it seemed like it was threatening to break the bones in her chest, she felt as if the air did not seem to reach completely into her lungs, as if it had stopped in the middle of the breath. veins of her.

—Kuai Liang and Smoke believed the same thing, that you were destined to give them orders, and they took care of you in a cradle of gold —He continued, now taking slow but forceful steps towards her —, you grew up away from the world, and they taught you what was necessary to that you could do everything from here.

She shook her head, her hands going to her ears, applying pressure, as if she wanted not to hear the reality behind the man's words, however, he took the woman's hands, easily forcing them to stay in her ears. shoulders.

—And Liang and Smoke became obsessed with the idea that you were weak, that you needed protection, that you were destined to lead from this damn room while they risked their lives for you—He press her hands against the wall—but I know better than that. You deserve so much more than that, someone like you needs much more than these four walls.

Her cries of denial echoed through the room, a wish that someone would magically appear and save her from Bi-Han's words. But she knew it was reality, that she couldn't deny the fact that she was like a bird in a cage full of harmless traps to keep it locked there.

—I will give you the life you deserve, and I will not let either of these two interfere in our destiny —He brought her face closer to her neck, pressing gently—. I am not alone, both Sektor and other Lin Kuei know what your destiny is, and they are willing to do everything to make it come true.

The poor woman sobbed, her arms too weak to fight someone as big as him.

But then, an explosion of smoke covered the place, while both of them heard the door being torn out. One arm took hold of her waist, taking hold of her body and stepping back with her in her arms.

—I knew they were up to something, —Liang whispered, before setting her down again —. Don't you understand that this is not right?

Smoke took her into her arms, pressing her face against her neck, while her hands clung to her body.

—You speak as if you know what she wants, —Bi-han replies, leaving the room —. Do you really think that someone like her deserves to be locked up in this place forever?

—Shut up now!.

It was the first time in a long time since she had heard Kuai Liang respond with such aggression, and in fact, she had never heard him speak with such expressions of anger.

—You don't know her, you just made yourself sick with the idea that she deserved to be by your side —Liang says, taking the blade out of his pocket —You already betrayed all of our father's will, what do you think gives you the right to also kidnap our future leader?

It was strange to hear him use that word, being that the idea that she was secretly in charge of keeping the clan alive in the new generations, but now that that idea had become a reality, she just wished it was a lie, an ugly one and horrendous lie.

Smoke walked away from the fight, carrying (Name) in his arms to safety place.

She knew the truth, she knew she had to take a path, one that was always going to be linked to obsession, and a sick feeling of horror invaded her chest at the idea that, wherever she went, it would always be the same.

Sorry if it took me too long, I was working on some headcanons that I had pending on Tumblr, soon there will be more one-shots and headcanons &lt;3

[ellouchi]

Jimmy dating headcannons (sfw/gn reader)

Disclaimer: this work contains unhealthy interpersonal practices and elements of abuse.

Side note: this was going to be LONGER and include nsfw but I've decided it's better to divide everything into parts. Finally getting this out because there is a critical shortage of Jimmy x reader works (cries and picks up a pen). Let me know if I missed something or made a mistake.

Enjoy!

— ok starting with the fluff: Jimmy feels too embarrassed to properly hold your hand, like some small shy boy. He will make it seem like you've the one who acts childish of course, holds your hand if you plead enough and only for a minute in public, for a bit more when in private. You can be lucky enough to tag after him holding his sleeve if he feels like it. Jimmy secretly loves to hold your wrist, especially in a tight grip, feeling your pulse beating under your skin (he is like a handcuff).

— Jimmy doesn't say "I love you", not in a usual sense. Instead it's always alternatives like common "You make me feel all warm and stupid inside" and the most rare "You mean a lot to me" spoken in a quiet sincere tone. Unfortunately "I love you"s are reserved for manipulation. He knows it gets people very compliant or/and defenseless. It doesn't do any harm anyway because he's merely speaking the truth. It's actually a litmus test if you love him or not, so be very careful with your words during those moments.

— primarily uses your name or alias you go with instead of pet names. Sometimes, Jimmy would use baby, babe, sweet cheeks (bear with me); dear, darling and love when he's pissed off or he tries to be condescending.

— Jimmy has a preconceived notion that your parents/family wouldn't like him, he has enough self awareness for that. Because of this, he'll try to make it seem like he's better than he is, so you better play along. If your family hates his guts, Jim doubles down, resulting in both parties wagging a war. Doesn't give a fuck about them at all after that disastrous first meeting. However, if somehow you family did take a liking to Jimmy, he's glad....but also puzzled. I think Jim has had shitty childhood, so when he is treated like a proper family member, he's lost. He doesn't want to see your family often because of his complicated feelings, but makes exceptions for the special occasions.

— Jimmy knows and remembers things about you to the points it's both scary and impressive: likes and dislikes, fears, dreams, ambitions etc. On the more positive side, this includes songs, books, movies, comics and anything like that — even if he doesn't like it, he has an understanding of what it is. If you call him out, Jimmy either says he doesn't care (he does, so much actually) or says "Of course I do, you can't shut up about [thing]" (lies).

— Jimmy doesn't have a lot of free time on his hands. If both of you are free, that means you are spending this time with him. No, your plans won't matter if they exclude Jim out of the picture. This involves discouraging you or outright sabotaging you. As per usual, he wouldn't find anything wrong with this kind of behaviour. You should just stop being unreasonable and spend some time with your lover. Look, he even went out of his way to find a movie you two would enjoy watching.

— birthdays with Jimmy are weird (if you could tell from the game). If you look forward to them, so does he; if you don't, well he congratulates you when the day comes and that's about it. It's much worse when the gifts are involved, because Jimmy will actually try to get what you want, and the more expensive it is, the more positive reaction he expects from you. He saved up throughout the year, denied himself pleasures and worked his ass off — if you don't shower him with appreciation and gratitude, he will make a scene about how selfish you are. On your own birthday.

— Jimmy keeps your gifts and trinkets in his drawer (if they small enough). He has some photos of you together, small souvenirs from trips, cute notes you left him — you name it. This habit will get creepy: the things having a lot of sentimental value to you, your trash like discarded perfume bottle and cream tubs, even your underwear. He wouldn't care if you made fun of him, but god forbid you misplace or throw away anything from that drawer.

— Jimmy loves when you rely on him. However, to a degree because this man quickly gets tired of running errands. If he offers to do something it's safe to agree, asking too much will get him worked up so don't overdo. With that said, Jimmy always does small things, like making your preferred beverage during the day, calling to remind you something, doing small chores unprompted, basically covering your bases. It's hard to feel unloved when you are remembered and cared for in that way. Also gives him an ammo for fights in case you forget how much Jimmy does for you.

— Jimmy insists on driving you everywhere (so people would know that you belong to him). Also it means Jim has lots of good punishments at his disposal when you two fight: lock the car from the inside? Leave you somewhere you don't know? Or just not pick you up altogether? Better leave all the arguments for later or don't bring them up at all...

— you are one of few people to see Jimmy's playful side: he just loves to joke around you. He wouldn't like it, but your sense of humour would rub off him greatly. If that wasn't enough this man loves to prank you in small ways: it's childish stuff most of times, like hiding or misplacing an item in your house and playing innocent. Other than that, Jimmy will whistle and catcall you when he sees you and will slap your ass in public when you leave. You are encouraged to prank him in return too, but you will be pranked harder next time. Grins, snickers and snorts a lot but laughs very, very rarely. However, it's one of the most healing things you could experience. Literally restores years to your lifespan.

— Jimmy doesn't like seeing you upset actually. He's not super soft or doting, he will pry the reason for your distress out of you whether you like it or not. If he deems it's unimportant, will tell you to suck it up, maybe even make a sarcastic remark. If it's serious business, he involves himself. Of course half the time it makes your situation worse and him angrier at himself which translates to Jim being angry at you.

— when Jimmy is upset, it's best to wait it out. I headcannon Jimmy used to have terrible anger issues but with years managed to control them to a degree. It doesn't mean he wouldn't lash out on you, his partner, it does get ugly. Him hugging you for comfort is actually more frequent than you would expect. As long as you don't address his tears or say much, Jimmy would calm down with little to no issue. Don't bring it up later too, he won't respond and will pretend it never happened.

— finishing with the reminder that you will be carrying Jimmy's emotional baggage as well as your own if you have any. I hope you have strong and healthy arms and back for that. If you're not careful enough or *cough cough* stay ignorant of Jim's bad influence on you, he will bring you to his level and mold you into who he wants you to be. But it doesn't work one way: in theory, you could "fix" some of his unsavoury outlooks but don't expect too much. After years of blood, sweat and tears it's possible to finally convince him to go to therapist. Praying he would continue on his own wouldn't be enough and you would need to actively encourage Jim to not give up on his mental health treatment. Way to go!