#of course you could also make this angsty but not today
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anyamaris · 2 days ago
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Title: Requited
Summary: A series of events lead to you having the worst day, and it doesn't help that it's Valentines Day. Your ex, who also happens to be your best friend even after your breakup showing up doesn't help the emotional turmoil inside of you.
Word Count: 2271
Pairing: Ex!BFF!Seonghwa x F!Reader
Trope: Exes to lovers/Fluff/Angst
Rating- T for teen/16+
Warnings: Vulgarity, some angsty thoughts and crying, allusion to previous intimacy as well as possibly bathing together, nothing explicit.
A/N: Well since Hwa is my ex bias, this seemed like a fun idea-thank you to @sanjoongie for suffering with me in regards to Seonghwa. You really helped me bring this to life for Valentines 🤍
Much love to @pars-ley for the GORGEOUS banner and you did it last minute (I told her last night and she delivered perfection!)
As always, so much love to @cafekitsune for the dividers, always supporting us writers 💜
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“Ugh, why is this all here?!” 
You yank out the box from the back of the closet, letting out a frustrated sigh as you turn to set it down on the floor.
Your sleeve catches on a hanger and the small box tumbles from your arms, spilling everything inside.
“Goddamnit…” you huff, running your palm over your forehead to push back the errant hairs sticking out everywhere.
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself before kneeling to start picking up the mess.
It has been a long ass week and all you really wanted to do was guzzle down a bottle of wine and soak in a long, hot bath.
Ahh…a bubble bath, you think, then curse as intrusive thoughts fill your mind.
It’s been over half a year since you and your ex broke up, but it has been amicable.
The positives of dating your best friend and roommate, you think.
Well….ex boyfriend AND ex roommate.
Luckily, best friend was still ongoing.
Unfortunately, today was Valentine's day and you can’t stop yourself from the memory of last year with Seonghwa.
Today the loss of your relationship seems to be creeping in to taunt you from every angle.  
“Get out of my head, Stupid Seonghwa.” you mutter, finally stuffing the last of his random shit into the box.  
Of course it was a box he’d forgotten to take when he’d left.
Maybe he was having a great Valentine’s, not even remembering the romantic evening you’d planned for him last year.
Why am I even thinking about him?
Your break up had been mutual, yes, but you’d held back the little twinge of doubt about it.
Could you both have worked it out?
You’d both expressed the fear of losing each other completely after a series of arguments that neither of you were willing to compromise on.
Looking back, you can’t even remember what the arguments were over…
Laundry soap?
How to fold socks?
Leaving a towel on the floor?
The best brand of kimchi?
Who the hell knows. 
“Whatever.” you grumble, pushing off your knees to get up, grabbing up the box with you to take to the door.
He can come get it when-
A sharp, stinging pain rips through the arch of your foot and right through the rest of your body, causing you to let out the most offensive curse words your exhausted brain can conjure up.
The box you’ve just picked up drops, and luckily it doesn’t spill its insides this time.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you hiss out, moving your foot to look down at the villainous object that lit up all of your pain receptors like a christmas tree.
You freeze momentarily, then lean over to pick up the object that just destroyed your mood completely.
Of course it’s a fucking LEGO.
Park mother fucking Seonghwa-
Right at that moment, your doorbell rings and you just bite back even more expletives as you snatch up the horrid little plastic piece before making your way to the door.
“Coming!” You call out as someone begins to knock.
As if he was summoned, Seonghwa stands before you with a bright smile.
Instead of putting you into a good mood, his presence only makes you more irritated.
“Ugh…” you grunt at him, turning and walking away without another word.
“Nice to see you too,” he quips, coming inside even though he wasn’t invited.
“I’m trying to clean, Hwa, why are you here?”  
“Can’t I come by and say hello?” he asks, and you let out a slow breath.
You turn to look at him, as he sets down a small plant on your counter.
“What’s that?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at what appears to be a flower.
He looks at it, then turns a sheepish smile on you. 
Fucking hate how gorgeous he is, you grumble inwardly.
“I saw it and thought of you...why are you so grumpy today?” he asks, leaving the gift to walk over to you.
You run your hand over your face, shaking your head at him.
“I don’t know, just a long ass week, and I haven’t slept much, and….” you clench your other hand, the edges of the plastic Lego piece biting into your skin.
“-and then I stepped on your stupid Lego!” you thrust your hand out at him, palm up to present the disrespectful object.
“Ouch…sorry…” he says, walking over to take it from your hand.
He lights up, turning it over in his fingers, “It’s the missing piece I’ve been looking for!”
His brilliant grin has your insides crumbling and you hate that you’re feeling so emotional right now.
Why did he have to come by today of all-
“Are you crying? Did it hurt that badly? Let me see your foot-” he is suddenly ushering you to sit on the couch as you try to process his words.
Crying? You’re not-
You swipe at your face and let out a frustrated sigh at the moisture running down your cheeks.
Before you can protest, he’s kneeling before you, lifting first your right, then left foot to survey any damage done.
“I’m fine, Seonghwa-” you complain, but he just gives you a stern look before returning to his inspection.  
“Just a few little red marks…” he hums, rubbing his thumb gently over the spot where you’d stepped down on it.
You cross your arms over your chest, swallowing back the urge to kick him in his pretty face.
God, what’s wrong with me today?
“I didn’t think you’d be home, honestly.  Glad I took the chance.” He hums, looking up at you with those big brown doe eyes.
“Why? Cause now you have your Lego back?”  you snap at him, then regret it as a momentary look of hurt crosses his face.
He lets out a patient sigh, standing only to settle himself down next to you on the couch.  
“No...I just…” he shrugs, suddenly looking around at anything but you as he chews his bottom lip.
You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, noting how the long strands of his dark hair tease at his cheeks.
Before you can stop yourself, you unfold your arms and reach out to brush them back, startling him enough to stare at you in shock.
“Sorry…it’s gotten long.” you mumble, retracting your hand before you give in to the urge to trace your fingertips over his skin.
He holds your gaze, tugging on a strand and nodding in agreement.
“Do you…like it?” he asks softly, his eyes studying you.
“It’s…nice…” 
“Just nice?” He asks, a little teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“What is it you came for, Hwa?” you ask, redirecting the conversation.
He takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly before answering.
“Just...I thought because it’s Valentine’s and maybe you …” he looks down at his fingers, suddenly interested in the state of his nails.
“Maybe I what? Am a pathetic mess because I’m single?” You bite out, hating how your voice wavers.
His head snaps up, brows drawing together.
“No. Why would I ever think that? Seriously?” he retorts and then he’s turning towards you, reaching out to grasp your hands in his.
“We’re friends, best friends…I’ve never once thought you were pathetic. What the hell even makes you think such a thing?”  
Friends.
For some reason, that cuts deep.
It’s been months since you’d both agreed to not be together.
To preserve the friendship.
He’d even moved out to make it easier on both of you; you’d both given in to the physical aspect far too much even after things ended.
Yet here you are, ready to hiss and spit at that term.
“I don’t want to be friends.” 
You freeze as you realize the words have slipped out unintentionally.
“What?” he asks, looking crestfallen.
“Hwa…no…I mean…fuck-” you stutter, angry at how your eyes sting from fresh tears welling up.
He lets go of your hands, cupping your cheeks to brush away the errant tears starting to spill down your face.  
“Don’t-” you try to swat him away, but he slaps at your hands, slipping an arm around you to pull you into a tight hug.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, tucking your face into his neck as he pets your hair.  
All of the internal struggles, the pressures of work, the sleepless nights…everything just seems to bubble up and you finally just feel the dam break.
Your hands fist into his soft sweater as you open your mouth and your heart just spills out.
“I feel so lonely, and sometimes it’s too much.  I miss you, I miss the stupid shit you do, I miss the way you get angry over how I leave my shoes or how I don’t dry things before putting them away.  It’s stupid Valentine’s and I was thinking about last year and all I want to do is just drown myself in wine and a bubble bath but I thought about you-” 
His body tenses in your arm, his hand halts, resting on the crown of your head before he’s slowly pulling you back to look at you.
“Shut up, I know it’s stupid, I know we agreed to be friends and I fucking thought I was fine-” 
The rush of words are cut off as his lips find yours.
Stunned, you freeze as the familiar sensation of his tongue prods at the seam of your lips, then you melt into his arms, opening up to allow him access.
His scent surrounds you, a small gasp escaping your parted lips before he’s planting kisses over and over on your mouth.
“I was going to tell you-” he says, breaking away for a moment before he closes the distance again.
“That I missed you too-”
“That I was stupid, I was wrong-” 
“I don’t even remember why we-”
You grasp his face, halting him before he can go on.
“I don’t either, why did we stop?” 
His eyes flick back and forth between yours, and he shakes his head.
That dark silky hair teases at his face and you feel the entire world fall into place.
Your lips quiver as your eyes fill once more, but this time it’s not painful.
It’s not in agony.
He blinks rapidly as he smiles as you, yanking you back to return his mouth to yours.
Time seems to stop, and bleed away as you cling to one another, basking in one anothers embrace before he’s breaking away from you.
“Hey…shhh…” he hums, pulling you into a gentle hug.
You nuzzle at his neck but he shakes his head as you brush your lips over that one place you know gets him going.
“Wait..” he protests, and you pull back to give him a pout.
“Don’t do that…you’re killing me here.” he chastises you, and your stomach flips as he gets a stern look on his face.
Fuck you’ve missed this.
He halts you once more as you go in for another kiss, taking your hands in his.
Confused, you tilt your head at him, about to ask him what’s wrong.
Before you can, he leans in to brush his plush lips over your forehead.
“Shh…I know how quickly things can escalate between us.  While I want that…I want you…I think rushing back into sex isn’t the way I want to begin again.” 
Your heart stutters in your chest, and while the ache between your legs argues against his logic, your mind and heart are in complete harmony about that sentiment.
Still, you give him yet another overdramatic pout.
He lets out a soft laugh, reaching up to flick his fingertip over your lip.
“Temptress.” he teases, and you can only grin as he tugs you back in to cuddle you.
Your entire body liquifies in his arms, and you run your hands over his shoulders, his back, his arms.
“Have you been working out?” you ask him, your voice muffled by his shirt as you rub your face into his chest.
He chuckles, his chin rubbing against your cheek.
“If you still feel the same way tomorrow, maybe I’ll show you.” he offers.
“Mmm…promise?” 
“I promise.” he answers, pulling away a little to look at you.
You hold one another’s gaze for a moment, then he stands and turns towards your kitchen.
“What are you doing?” you ask, watching as he rummages around, pulling out a stemmed glass, then finding a familiar cupboard.
“You said you wanted wine and a bath.  I’m going to give you exactly what you want, angel.” he hums.
Your heart thumps in your chest; firstly because he’s always been so caring and sweet, but also because of the use of his pet name for you.
“I love you, Seonghwa.” you blurt out, knowing you should feel embarrassed but the sudden admission but unable to find it in you to feel anything but relief at the confession.
He smiles softly as he pours the glass, walking back over to hand it to you before placing a kiss on your head.
“I know, angel…I never stopped loving you.”
His words linger in the air as he wanders off, tossing you a peeking glance before he disappears into the bathroom to start running your bath.
The familiar scent of your bubble bath fills the air as you take a sip of the velvety wine.
There’s still a lot to talk about, alot to discuss but tonight…
You stand, glass in hand and try to figure out how you’re going to get him to join you in your tub.
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todayisafridaynight · 10 months ago
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I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh
hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]
i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..
#snap chats#//twenty page google doc in the background// ignore that. it's mostly for comedic purposes#might also be my fault idk sorry about that. allegedly. idk ive had like three people tell me they started to ship them cause of me 🧍‍♂️#@mementoasts is another person who's drawn masadai and whose stuff i love and am inspod by .. i love their disneyland fic sm ...#there was another artist on twitter who posted a neat drawing of them but i cant remember who they were and i didnt bookmark it //screams//#recently there's been ANOTHER masadai artist ive started following on twitter - @wifekiryu. his account's n/s/f/w fyi before you go looking#he has a tumblr too @foxdies. i say cause i realized as much recently vjeaKLGJALKGJ#oh but I GUESS ill get deeper into why. /i/ personally ship masadai or whatever#first off they're opposing factions yet their character alignments Do Not Match their roles. stereotypically anyway#aoki who leads the 'surface' of society and is meant to be an admirable figure and someone 'just' when really. he sucks LMAO#though that's not atypical of politicians but just from a stereotypical This Is A Respectable Individual perspective of his role#daigo on the other hand leads the 'underbelly' of society- yk comprised of dangerous criminals and outcasts and whatnot#yet as we know him daigo's compassionate and considerate of his men- he doesnt treat them like tools like aoki does#if put in a room with the two daigo would be most people's choice of person to hang out with. probably open a trapdoor on aoki tbh#and i think thats really cool and epic i always love that kinda Subverting Expectations thing#theres also the fact they both started off like. edgy/angsty in the franchise and then brush up down the line#masato does a stronger 180. publicly. obviously but its still really funny they both have to get their act together#if you wanna talk about in-text reasons. there really is none LMAO I TELLS YOU masadai is pure crack#but if i wanted to pull a muscle reaching then there's daigo being on aoki's side while everyone else is on arakawa's during the funeral#im lying of course. mitsu was behind him. rgg tryna make me forget mitsu exist .... put him back in y8 ....#and ofc ichi joins that side to even out the seating but moving on another Goofy Reason is arakawa being like#'the chairman and my son are like p much the same age Surely he knows how he thinks :)'#and then i just think daigo being all smarmy about outsmarting aoki is really goofy and im choosing to interpret that as personal#they both also have issues with their dad. s. dad/s/. anyway.#tbh the google doc tag was a joke but i really could sit here and list every dumb reason why i think theyre funny together#like i started going over the tag limit so uhhhh yeah needless to say i have a lot of. dumb reasons 💀💀💀💀#one day ill use the main text for long rambles like this but todays not that day Point Is my imagination is rampant im afraid#so the short and sweet of it is I Think It's Funny. And They'd Be Terrible Together. Which Is Why It's Funny.#and the unfortunate part is anything i find funny i obsess over for a year so. //gestures to the mountain of bullshit thats my masadai tag/
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago
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Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!
“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted. 
“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?” 
Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.” 
She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder. 
“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.” 
///
“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.” 
He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over. 
“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.” 
There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.” 
“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him. 
“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.” 
The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.” 
///
“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place. 
“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him. 
What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate. 
You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away. 
“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?” 
You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick. 
“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there. 
///
The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said. 
Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him. 
It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him. 
“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away. 
“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.” 
Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.” 
When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before. 
His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again. 
The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode. 
“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question. 
“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-” 
“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t. 
///
“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.” 
“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.” 
Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…” 
“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship. 
“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…” 
Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset. 
He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.” 
///
“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled. 
Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could. 
The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time. 
Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that. 
The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage. 
When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.” 
Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?” 
“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.” 
“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…” 
She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?” 
Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.” 
You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. 
“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it. 
“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?” 
///
Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed. 
“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on. 
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little. 
This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over. 
“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. 
“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning. 
“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents. 
“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room. 
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be. 
~6 Months Later~
“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?” 
Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-” 
“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door. 
Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side. 
“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving. 
“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.” 
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crossingthedreams · 4 months ago
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do better — gregory house x f!reader
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a/n: I got a little carried away, per usual, and now I’m late with day 04 of the angstober challenge (still a wyp), but I plan on finishing it and posting later today. but, omg, I can’t believe I'm posting day 05 — do better on time! this is also part of @angstober‘s challenge, which I'm having a blast writing. I do love some angsty vibes. please, feel free to comment or dm me!
summary: a relationship between the boss and his employee has a million ways to go wrong. one, in particular, hurt them the most. 
word count: 2.2k
warnings: angst. House is an asshole. mentions of family death. mentions of cancer. struggles with immigration. inappropriate relationship. mentions of smut.
Let medicine be thy food. 
That's the quote, or at least you think it is. After a particularly long shift, words in English seemed to scramble together a bit, with it being your second language and all. Usually, you’re a natural, perfect, fluent speaker. There are moments, however, when understanding what your peers are saying or formulating cohesive sentences becomes a herculean task. You didn’t make yourself unintelligible, but it was a little awkward to be with a patient who clearly had no idea how globalized the world was and how many doctors in the United States were not native English speakers, and who looked at you like you had just robbed the white coat from a “proper doctor”.
Sure, dealing with people was shitty sometimes. “Doctors don’t treat people, they treat illnesses”, your boss had once said. But in your mind, people weren’t that bad. The long hours, the sleep deprivation, the lack of a social life — that was the really bad part. And there were, of course, the very short lunch breaks. 
Medicine was fun, but it had nothing on a full plate of pasta with those weird looking meatballs. What once was disgusting, now seemed appetizing as hell. Not eating once while working for the whole night could do that to a person. Medicine was not food, at least not literally.
You had taken off your sweater and your white coat a while before going to the cafeteria, where the rest of the team was. As of right now, you and Chase had spent thirty-six hours working. Cameron and Foreman had taken the long straws and gone home last night while you and the prettiest doctor around worked on some lab tests. 
That man who, right now, was not really trying to hide how he lustfully eyed you up and down, stopping on your cleavage. You didn’t blame him for looking, though. Firstly, you did spend the night working together and you mentioned that you did not have sex for the last six months, and secondly, you had nice boobs, which was both a blessing and a curse. Also, he was very much exhausted. Thinking about your coworkers in an unfashionable manner to keep awake was better than falling asleep atop of a patient during a lumbar puncture — you had done both, so you could tell, oops. 
“I’ll die if I have to do any more thinking”, the pretty doctor said, accent even more prominent, letting his head drop to the headrest of his seat behind him. 
“Yes, thinking just doesn’t come naturally to some people”, you laughingly replied, sitting down next to Foreman. He scooched over, making more room for you and your tray. There was enough pasta on your plate to feed two, not to mention the salad, the dessert, the can of Coke and the can of energy drink. 
“Damn, kid, do you not have food at home?” You eyed Foreman, a little annoyed at the comment. Why did men think they had the right to comment on women’s food choices and bodies all the damn time? “Don’t give me that look, you know that’s a lot, especially for a girl who skips lunch every other day”. 
“Not by choice” you said, taking a lot of pasta into your mouth. “Nof ba chos”, you replied, mouth full, making everyone at the table let out a tired laugh. 
It was an uneventful meal. The team was really tired, especially Chase, who almost dropped his head on his plate twice. The four of you rushed upstairs when lunch was over, after being paged by your boss. 
The man himself was pacing back and forth in the conference room, brows furrowed and looking extremely aggravated. Nothing new, then, you think, sitting down across from Cameron. 
Allison Cameron and you had been friends since med school, and getting to work together was pretty nice. Women in STEM need each other, of that you were sure. The thing is, she was in a weird place romantically, which made you feel weird about getting along with the people about whom she was confused — which hardly makes sense, but it is what it is. She had a crush on your boss for the longest time, and that didn’t work out at all. And then there was Chase, who she had slept with, but had no interest in further pursuing. 
Hanging out with Chase knowing he’d seen her naked was a little weird, but the fact they’d slept together wasn’t the problem. He liked her, and that was her problem. Your boss, well, he was everybody’s problem. 
Particularly yours, considering… you know. The one-night-that-became-every-night. The HR-nightmare. The doing-the-devil’s-tango. The seeing-each-other-scars. The kissing-and-absolutely-not-telling.
It was fairly easy sneaking around. He was inappropriate, sure, but not big on PDA. He treated you like any other dumbass employee with boobs. If anyone saw the two of you leaving the hospital together? You worked together. If you were seen going towards the same place? You’re neighbors, duh. And if anyone happened to see the two of you having breakfast together in the little café a block around his place? Well, it was a coincidence meeting him there! 
If they saw you giving him head while he tried to play the piano, well… There’s no explanation for that. 
You looked at him coming and going, and you knew his leg must be killing him. Yesterday when you left his home in the morning to pick up your stuff for the day (which turned out to be the day, the night and the next day), he was popping more pills than usual. Shit. 
“New case?”, Cameron asked, looking at the limping man with worry and care in her eyes. You liked her a lot, but she had to stop thinking about your limping man with such care. 
Sure, she liked him first. And she probably worried for him just as she would anyone else. And it was ridiculous to be annoyed at your long-time friend for caring for her boss. Still, there was a sting of jealousy that made you want to bitch-slap her. 
He finally stopped and looked at all of you. When his eyes finally met you, he looked right at your low cut top and let out a “Yowza!”. When you blushed and stood up to pick your white coat, he called your last name, and said, nonchalantly: “Nice boobs”. 
You raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you sat down. It might seem like sexual harassment — and at first, it was a little bit —, but now it was just him being as inappropriate as always. Hiding from his feelings, keeping his distance with pathetic remarks and cold attitudes. It made you sad when you started working for him, but right now, you pinched your nose to stop you from giggling like a sixteen year old cheerleader being noticed by the boy on the football team. Or rather, the boy on the bench cursing at the stupid players.
Dr. Gregory House had a massive crush on you, and that made all the shit he did go away. 
You realized Chase started updating House on the patient you spent all night testing and monitoring. Truth is, that guy didn’t stand a chance for a normal life here on forward. At best, he had a benign hereditary chorea. Worst case scenario, it was Huntington manifesting earlier than it should, as you’d been saying from the beginning. 
“Shut up”, House said to Chase, making those blue Australian eyes widen. Poor guy, he looked beyond exhausted. “I understand how DNA testing works. I went to med school too, remember?”
“Yeah, but that was seven hundred years ago”, you let out before you could think twice. You teased House a little for being older. Scratch that, you gave him a lot of crap for being older. You just didn’t do it in front of the team, which was why they all looked at you horrified. 
Horrified, but Foreman was holding in a laugh.
The ‘old-man’ hit his cane on the desk, turning the attention back to him. “Ouch”.
You smiled, playing it off like a remark made by an exhausted overworked young woman who disliked her boss. House half-screamed some orders to all of you, even though he already knew you had clinic duty. 
The hours left to finish on the clinic were manageable, so you could finish it after you did some of the tests House asked.  
Time passed by too quickly, and as your day went by, you remembered you had to talk to Wilson as soon as possible. It wasn’t a life or death matter, but a peace of mind kind of thing. You decided to stop by his office before you It was then that you overheard something you shouldn’t have.
Well, that brought the high school memories right back. 
It was the middle of the afternoon, also known as the beginning of your third shift in a row, and you were stopping by Wilson’s office to discuss a private matter. A family member of yours had cancer, and then another one. By the time your fourth relative came down with the diagnosis, you decided to check your genetic predisposition. Although the tests came back clean, meaning you were safe for oncology purposes, you still wanted to know his opinion on how you could be even safer.
You looked cancer in the eyes many times. You didn’t want to look at it in the mirror too. 
For some godly reason, you stopped before knocking. That’s when you recognized your boss’s voice, complaining about something, per usual. 
“She’s a baby! She had never watched Grease, for crying out loud”, the voice and the footsteps made their sounds in harmony. You leaned in closer to the door, to try and listen better. 
“Well, you two barely know each other, now it’s the time to know if there’s a future in this relationship or not. And would you ever marry her?”, Wilson’s voice, and the words made you freeze. 
“Not everyone has marriage on the brain 24/7, Wilson”, House replied. Even from behind the door, you could almost hear the engines in his brain turning. “And God, no. I could never marry her. I can do better than a gullible third-world princess”.
You froze.
Of course he’d say that. Of course. Even if he didn’t mean it. 
The realization came like an electrical shock flowing through your body. You felt it, and it made the hairs on the nape of your neck rise. 
You meant nothing to him. 
As an immigrant, the feeling of never belonging is constant. You don’t belong in the place you now live, but you don’t really belong in the place you were born. 
You had felt for a fraction of a second that you could find your place here. In House's department. Perhaps, even with House. God, you were stupid. You were a device for him to finish his puzzles, and an object to finish… Well, to finish himself off. 
As you left your transe and heard the voices again, you ran as fast as you could back to the clinic, where you had a couple hours left to finish. There was something you needed to arrange with Cuddy, too. 
Hours later, you were in the department’s room reading some exams when House walked in. 
He eyed you up and down again, eyes lingering on your breasts a little longer than a boss’ eyes normally would. “So”, he took his bootle from his jacket and opened it, popping a couple of pills, “your place or mine?” 
“You suck”, you murmured, angrily, but pouting a little. He’d never admit it, but he loved seeing you a little aggravated, crossing your arms in front of your body in a way that made your already eye-catching torso irresistible. 
He smiled a little, putting the medicine back in his pocket. “No, sweetheart”, he now fully grinned, “that’s you.”
You rolled your eyes, but let your arms fall and a cold smile creeped into your face. 
“Yes, I do, actually”, you rose up from the chair and walked all the way towards him, hitting your hand towards his chest and pressing the paper you were holding against him. “I’m a full on sucker, and ass-kisser, as you like to point out. That’s why your so called mortal enemy offered me a job in New York”. 
He took the paper, blue eyes never leaving yours. 
“Consider this my two weeks notice”. It was hard to say, but it felt a little good, too. Logically, there were no downsides in this opportunity. Then, why did it hurt so much? “I guess everyone was right. I can do better”.
The double meaning was not lost on House. 
Your hand finally left his chest, and he didn’t look back as you left. 
Looking at it now, it all seems so simple. It never is, though, is it? Especially with House. And you, an intelligent, kind, talented and ambitious young woman, could definitely do better than attach yourself to a crippled, bitter, odious older man. 
You were doing better now. So, why, pray tell, why did this still hurt so much? 
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marcsburnerphone · 1 year ago
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note. 
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John 
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you. 
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend. 
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways. 
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it. 
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again. 
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do. 
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in  
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut?  Fuck it, yes. 
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No. 
———
6 months in 
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick. 
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that. 
———-
7 months in 
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin. 
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter. 
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. 
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do. 
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing. 
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer. 
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh. 
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch. 
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?” 
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.” 
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.” 
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.” 
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.” 
“I know.” 
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room. 
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.” 
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk. 
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner. 
“Can I do your beard and mustache?” 
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says. 
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.”  You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away. 
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated. 
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots. 
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.” 
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you. 
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs. 
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push. 
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it. 
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door. 
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain. 
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect. 
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car. 
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one. 
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh. 
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?” 
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in. 
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true. 
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor. 
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.” 
“Espresso?” 
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again. 
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.” 
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?” 
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?” 
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?” 
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?” 
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced. 
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?” 
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side. 
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park. 
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air. 
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath. 
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him. 
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe
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sixosix · 1 year ago
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synopsis in which satoru really needed to start reading the gc more often. solves a lot.
tags slight making out scene… satoru is an asshole but what’s new, satoru is also hopelessly infatuated, all the readers i write are emotionally constipated sorry, getting together(?) fluff bit angsty tho
a/n this is a little stupid and unrealistic but bear with me because this is my first time writing in a looong time to get back in the groove of writing ^__^
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Shoko wrinkled her nose as Satoru made the show of tossing a crumpled-up vending machine can into the bin on the other side of the street. It landed perfectly in the middle because why wouldn’t it? Emboldened by the impressed glances of passersby, he reached for Suguru’s pocket, where there was a balled-up paper in his bontan pants. Suguru winced when it was your head instead, where you had started crossing.
Your glare cut a thrill down Satoru’s spine. You huffed and bent down to pick up the trash, your knuckles white, like you were imagining it was Satoru’s head instead. Satoru was just appreciating how gracefully you’d bowed, the curve of your back captivating him for a moment until Suguru elbowed him.
“Stop littering,” Suguru said sternly, but his eyes spelled out that it was not about the littering.
Satoru shrugged. “I wouldn’t have missed if it weren’t for Y/N.” 
Satoru called out after you as you dropped the paper ball into the bin directly. “Oi!” You ignored him and continued walking, a considerable distance lengthening between you and the three. “Ha, you embarrassed?”
“Anyone would be if they were seen with you,” you spat out almost reflexively, then blinked at your own words. Satoru almost swore you wanted to apologize, but you composed yourself by turning your back on him altogether.
Satoru grinned. “It’s okay,” he said. “Shoko and Suguru don’t need to know I had to save your ass from a low-grade curse.”
You didn’t dignify his taunt with a response, but your shoulders tensed for a moment.
“So moody. How does your boyfriend put up with this?” Satoru snickered as he eyed the back of your head. He relished in the way a vein pops on your temple, breathed in the way you looked over your shoulder just to say—
“Shut up, Satoru. I mean it.”
He wasn’t unfamiliar with envious or hateful gazes; it came with his birth, really. Awe and fear and there are impossibles, but not for Gojo Satoru said with contempt—he didn’t care. Yours were different. He took pride in affecting people in ways where they could never ignore him, but the way you looked at him felt thrilling. He wondered if your boyfriend saw how your eyes would set ablaze for Satoru.
But he didn’t actually care, he would say. He never cared for a lot of things. It showed, at times, others would say.
“Whoa, did someone get their heart broken today?” Satoru whistled, his tone lilting upwards in what seemed to be a way to lighten the mood. No moods were lightened.
Your head whipped around to give him a look that had him frozen on the spot. His eyes widened behind his shades. He felt like that paper ball at the moment, about to be squashed flat against your palm. That look felt familiar, but not in the way that he knew he was familiar with because of you. It was familiar because of everyone else.
Suguru shot him a look that said he would’ve shoved him had it not been for his Infinity on. “Satoru.”
You walked on ahead, brushing past them with hiked-up shoulders. You looked like you were about to break at the slightest touch—it looked wrong. You had always looked so strong in Satoru’s eyes. Not stronger than him, of course, but… seeing your lip tremble like that made him itch the wrong way.
Satoru glanced between Suguru and Shoko, lost. “Am I missing something?”
Suguru said, “You didn’t hear?”
“Oh, so you know, but I don’t? What is this? Leave-out-Satoru club? You have a group chat without me?” Satoru did not mean for that to come out that bitter.
Shoko exhaled, smoke faintly billowing from her lips. She regarded Satoru with a look. “Maybe if you actually read our group chat with you, you wouldn’t be so ignorant.”
And so Satoru scrolled through his phone, wounded. Suguru and Shoko whispered among themselves as his eyebrows arched up so high that he looked elated.
“That’s it?” Satoru scoffed. “Trouble in paradise? Y/N almost got hurt by a curse because of some man?”
“Idiot,” Suguru sighed. “You’re also a man.”
Satoru knew what was going on in Shoko’s head with her expression. She was calling him trash. “They’ve been together for years. Before Y/N even met you.”
Satoru bristled. “So?”
“So don’t think of this as some chance,” Suguru said. Since when was he some love expert? “And stop terrorizing. No one brokenhearted would want to see your stupid face.”
He gaped. “So rude!”
And then he backtracked. “And I wasn’t thinking of this as a chance.” He was. “I don’t even like Y/N like that!” He does terribly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to hear from that asshole non-sorcerer again. Have you heard the way he says baby? Even through the phone, it gives me the creeps.”
Suguru hummed thoughtfully. “He was an asshole.”
Shoko laughed. “That asshole got to date Y/N before you, though.”
Satoru decided to spare Shoko, feeling too delighted to let anyone ruin it.
“Did you read all the messages?” Suguru asked.
“Nah.” Satoru stared at the back of your head. “I got the gist of it seeing Suguru’s reply, ‘he was an asshole anyway.’” He flashed his teeth and quickened his pace. “Come on, before Y/N gets flung around by curses again.”
Suguru and Shoko shared a look that he missed completely.
You eyed the plastic bag Satoru was holding out distrustfully.
It was too dark already, but that was no problem for Gojo Satoru. He came here—your room, your door—with a mission in mind. That mission involved ice cream because he saw in movies that people liked to eat ice cream and cry after breakups. You weren’t crying, which relieved him, though he didn’t know why. He wanted to convince himself it was because he didn’t want to deal with tears, but he couldn’t lie to himself well when it came to you.
“Nice try,” you said, pushing it back to his chest. You startled at the cold.
“What— It’s not poison!” Satoru said. He flicked it open and showed you his gift, one you should appreciate for his efforts and thoughtfulness.
“Ice cream?” you said suspiciously. Then it dawned on you. Your lips turned up in a disbelieving smile. He'd take it much better than the look you gave him that day, even when dregs of weariness dulled your eyes. “Were you worried?”
You looked awful, which was probably the norm for someone going through a breakup from a long relationship. Satoru didn’t like your sad face at all. It pissed him off, like some puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Still, to Satoru, he supposed anything was better than not getting to see your face at all.
“Yeah,” he found himself saying before he could think about it.
Your face fell. “Satoru.”
“Just take it, or else I’ll eat it in front of you.”
Your hand gripped the door tighter.
Satoru cleared his throat. “Okay, or you can just shut the door on me and go back to sleep.” And then, silently: “You can just take it, and I’ll leave.”
You stared at him as if expecting him to take it back.
Satoru felt his face warm. “Are you gonna take it or not?”
“It creeps me out when you act nice.”
He glared. “I’m always nice, but I’m not creepy about it.”
Your shoulders relaxed. You took the bag from him with a smile that felt like a shared secret. “Do you wanna come in?”
His first thought was, holy shit, but what came out was, “Sure, I don’t care.”
He had never been in your room before. Shoko was, a lot of times, most of the time. Suguru managed to, here and there, when you needed some help with heavy lifting. You kicked Satoru every time he used to even think about it. Your room was more ordinary than he expected. No posters, flashy souvenirs, or even clothes strewn over your bed. It looked lonely.
There was a box in the corner beside your closet that looked entirely out of place. Satoru must have been staring at it for a moment too long as you said, “Those are my ex’s clothes. I stole many of it, but I don’t want to wear them anymore.”
Satoru’s curious gaze turned into distaste. “Want me to get rid of it?”
“What?” You laughed. “I’ll just give it back.”
Satoru bounded over to the box and crouched, peeling the cover open. “Why not? There’s a dumpster nearby.”
“Well, they were nice. Not my ex, I mean the clothes. Felt expensive—I’d rather he take it back.” Always the goody two shoes.
“Hmmm…” Satoru lifted his head to stare at you. “Did you like wearing them? You can borrow mine. Much better than these cheap knockoffs.”
Your eyes flashed with interest, and Satoru knew he had said the right words. His clothes were no joke.
You blinked at him, a deer in headlights holding a tub of ice cream. “Are— Are you sure? It’s not like I actually need them—”
Satoru wanted nothing more than to see you drowning in his clothes. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I don’t care.”
He shrugged off his jacket and offered it to you. He felt a gust of cold, which should’ve been wrong to him, but he didn’t pay it any mind when you took it from him and stared at it. Your gaze shifted hesitantly between him and the red fabric. Your bottom lip started trembling before you bit it between your teeth, something Satoru wouldn’t have caught if he wasn’t staring. You whirled around and shoved the tub of ice cream in your mini fridge. What a shame. He was really planning for you to share it with him.
Satoru stood up, kicking at the box. He asked, “What were you doing before I left? Boring stuff? Were you watching sad movies without ice cream? It’s a good thing I came over.”
“You didn’t have to, I’m fine,” you said. You slipped into his jacket, the sight arresting him for a moment.
Satoru frowned. Something was definitely wrong. Maybe you were feeling tired? You must have been—emotions tend to wear out a person faster than any physical means. “Hey, lie down on the bed. You look like you’re about to crash.”
“I’m not,” you muttered but followed anyway because you must have felt it, too. “I’m not.”
You winced as your head collided with your pillow. It was unusual for you to succumb to rest while Satoru lingered in the same space.
“Sorry,” Satoru choked out, suddenly feeling guilty by the strong urge to embrace you. He was already crossing far too many lines today. He didn’t want to taint your memory of heartbreak from your ex with him.
You turned to face him, your hair splayed all over the pillow. “What?”
“For yesterday. I didn’t know. This, I mean.”
“You read the messages?”
He nodded. “I did.”
“That’s it? You’re not—” You yawned, blinking. Satoru was performing the highest level of restraint at the moment. “I mean, you’re not, like…”
The air was charged with something dangerous. Satoru looked away, thinking. He wanted to ask, did you expect me to care that much? But he knew the answer to that—he does.
“Satoru,” you said lowly. He shivered at the quiet of the night and how he can almost feel your voice. “You shouldn’t be so nice to someone heartbroken. Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”
Satoru sat on the edge of your bed, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
You looked up at him. Satoru felt want in his belly. It was dangerous, he realized, for him to be alone with you like this. It was wrong—but he never went doing everything right anyway, if it meant he could watch as your eyes flutter, as you longed for something he could never have from you once the wounds on you have healed.
“Doesn’t it?” you said. “You’re confusing me, too.”
Satoru realized his Infinity had been off already, though he didn’t know when. Was it when he sat on the bed to feel the softness of your sheets? Or was it already back then, the moment you opened the door, he was already longing for you to touch him?
“You’re so cruel, Satoru,” you murmured. “I hate you.”
Weakly, Satoru said, “I know. Get some sleep. I’ll leave soon.”
“Don’t leave.”
Satoru screwed his eyes shut, frustrated.
“Satoru.” He could listen to you say his name forever. You sighed his name in a way that felt like what aches in his heart whenever you even look at him.  “You didn’t read the messages, did you?”
“Did I miss something?”
“If you want to kiss me so bad, read it.”
His eyes shot open wide, a bit terrified. “What?” he said, dumbstruck. “Y/N— What?”
Clumsily, with no grace whatsoever, he fumbled with his phone, your words racing in his head. If you want to kiss me, read it. He bluescreened. If you want to kiss me—
you satoru doesnt read the messages here, right?
you i hate him if i never met him maybe i wouldnt have figured that i was not content with the love i had
you how do i even deal with this? i got dumped by my bf and he tells me if i love satoru so much why not just date him instead
you i love him can someone please comfort me
shoko oh no
shoko condolences for liking the most insufferable man on planet earth
suguru im sorry he’s an asshole you deserve better y/n
shoko the trashiest asshole are you sure about this?
you more than anything, unfortunately
Wait.
The asshole they were referring to was Satoru?
Wait.
Satoru jolts up from where he had been hunched over his phone, gaping at you. “Y/N,” he whispered reverently. “Y/N!”
You placed a hand on his chest as he moved towards you, preventing him from crashing into your space. He faltered. “Wait,” you laughed softly, languidly, beautifully, “not now. I’m sleepy.”
“No, fuck that,” he said, helpless. “Y/N!”
“It’s your fault for not reading our group chat.”
‘Kay, well. Satoru’s eyes narrowed like a cat prepared to pounce. “You can’t just make me read that and keep me from you like this. Why were you so mad at me yesterday?”
“Because I love you, and now my life is over,” you said, smiling.
“Say that again,” he demanded. 
“My life is over?”
Satoru was seconds away from crying. “Y/N, please,” he said, “say you love me again. Say it now.”
He held the hand on his chest and kissed it. Kissed it again, the back of your palm, your fingertips, repeating the same three words.
“I love you?” you said.
“Well, don’t sound so unsure about it.”
You laughed. “Do you even like me back?”
Satoru stared from the rim of his glasses. Instead of replying, he tugged you closer with your arm and kissed your jaw. He hoped you would get it—that you would understand. He loved you first.
“More than anything,” he echoed. He looked into your eyes, your lips, torn. “Please, let me kiss you. You’re hurting me.”
“Oh, I get a please now?”
Satoru’s eyes sharply dart down to your lips. Your grin faltered at the intensity of his stare. You swallowed, and he tracked every movement.
“You look a bit manic right now,” you said nervously.
“I’ll show you manic.”
You smiled, bumping your ankle against his back. When he glanced at it, you inched closer. His heart leaped to his throat, threatening to come out and get you.
“Are you seriously going to make a move on me now? My heart is broken, Satoru.”
“Is it really?” He grinned. “Or is it just split with me?”
“Okay, smartass,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just kiss me already.”
Satoru cut the distance between the two of you. He crashed clumsily, making both of you wince, but he tilted his head and suddenly— much better. He held you closer, hoping he could wipe away any other men from your life with all he could offer—him, needy, longing, crazed.
“Satoru—” you tried, but it was swallowed by his mouth, wishing you could breathe his name from your lips to his. This was almost as good as hearing you say you love him anyway.
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lcriedlastnight · 8 months ago
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Enemies to lovers with Lando: "you want me?" "you know i do"
thank you so much for your request, anon!
tw: fem!reader, swears, wee bit angsty, she's a big one, dickhead!lando. lmk if you want me to add anything.
w/c: 2.8k
this weekend had gone horrible for lando so far, and of course as his assistant you had gotten the brunt of it. on days like this you don't know why you didn't just quit your job. lando clearly didn't like you, in fact you would go as far to say that he hated you and wouldn't everything go much more smoothly if you both liked each other? you lay awake in bed at night - especially after a rough day of running around like a headless chicken after lando - thinking about having a job where your boss didn't curse the ground you walked on.
you had been working overtime this weekend, making sure that lando had everything he needed all weekend for press conferences, meetings with zak and andrea and even when he needed a second alone to himself in his drivers room, you would make sure to tell anyone who was looking for him that he was busy, just so he could get a break. you had decided when lando was in looking at data after both free practise rounds on friday to grab a bite to eat. you hadn't eaten since breakfast, it was now a little past five. it wasn't an exaggeration to say you were starving.
you head towards some tables next to the cafeteria and pull what you had brought for lunch out of your bag. you pull out your phone, scrolling through your texts, one catching your eye. it was the groupchat you had with all your friends, baring in mind there was only four of you.
'it's like a double date but for the four of us!" lara, had said. the other girls seemed to disagree with whatever her idea was. you scroll down further to see the newer messages.
'what if we set her up? i'm sure her boss will give her the saturday off to go on a date with him." again it was lara who suggested it, but it caught your eye because she was talking about you. who was she trying to set you up with and why was she even doing it in the first place? there was also no way lando would be giving you saturday off, never mind during a race weekend.
you tell them so before hearing the distinct voices of lando and zak chatting away as they make their way down the hall. you sigh and pack away your half eaten lunch. you could've finished it, you were sure lando wasn't that much of a dick that he would deny you of food but you didn't want him to hold it over your head. you knew for certain he would do that. you shove the lunch bag into the bigger bag then sling it over your shoulder. your phone pings, a message from the groupchat.
'too late it's already set up, ask your boss and we'll go shopping on monday when you're home.' lara says. you could kill her. you don't respond, just shoving your phone into your pocket and walking over to lando and zak.
"hey, great to see you again!" zak greets you with a cheery smile. it's easy to happy around zak, the only time you've seen him annoyed or upset has been on bad race days. you're sort of surprised he is so because lando has not been performing so far this weekend. you bite your tongue on that one, instead giving him a smile back and returning his polite words.
"well look, as i said before, this is only friday, the only day where what you drive like matters is sunday. that's when we get the points. although i'm sure you will be back on your game tomorrow. we all have off days." zak tells lando, a comforting hand on his shoulder before he walks off in the direction he came in. you spot oscar too, so there is no doubt that it is oscar's turn for his driving this weekend to be analysed. oscar's weekend comapred to lando's has been pretty good.
"that's you for today. nothing else you're needed for." you tell lando, triple checking his calandar, making sure you were looking friday. the time where you were accidentally looking at his saturday schedule instead stays at the forefront of your mind whenever you look at his calandar.
"i know. you told me that before." lando remarks, his voice blunt and a little nasty. its like your presence just pisses lando off. you remember the date your friends set you up with and will courage to fill your veins before asking him.
"what are you still doing standing there?" lando asks, not genuinely asking, just wanting you to leave him alone. he hates seeing you outside of work and although you were in the paddock, he deems this outside of work.
you take a deep breath before just directly asking him. "can i have next saturday off?". lando stops untying his fireproofs. he looks up at you.
"why? why are you making plans on a race weekend?" he condescends, like you were stupid.
"i didn't. my friends set me up on a date without asking." you explain. you hated explaining yourself to him but you knew if there was any chance you were getting saturday off then you had to do what he asked.
lando pauses for a second, staring at you then returns to undoing his fireproofs. "no. i need you here." he declares.
you shouldn't be shocked he said no, you really should have seen it coming but it still surprises you nonetheless.
"you can't go without me for just one day?" you ask, as if you were desperate to go on this date. now it was more about him not giving you the day off than it was about actually going on the date.
lando's brows crinkle. "no. if i give you the saturday off then you'll need the sunday off too as i'm guessing it's not here so unless you're planning on flying over straight after your date?" he spits out the end of the sentence. you had not thought about that. you are quiet as you take in his words.
"that's what i thought. tell your friends to cancel the date, you're coming with me all weekend." lando basically demands.
"i'm not sure why you even want me here. you hate me, i don't know why you haven't just fired me and found a new assistant. this would work a lot better for you if you actually liked the person you need to spend the whole weekend with." you grumble, annoyed at his attitude and how he felt like he could just go around telling you what you could and couldn't do with your life. it seriously felt like you were cutting off you social life for this job. you storm past lando and straight out of the paddock into the uber waiting for you, it stands out against the rich, fancy cars surrounding it in the carpark.
you drive back to the hotel in silence, in one of those moods where everything was annoying you. you hate the fact that you had to stay in the same hotel as him. you had never been this mad at your job before. you try to unwind once you are back at the hotel by jumping into the shower but it does not help.
once you have gotten yourself dry and have gotten changed for bed, you eat the rest of your ruined lunch/dinner and text your friends back letting them know that lando was in fact, not giving you the day off for the date. you then throw yourself into bed. you put the tv on but the only channel that spoke english was the news channel and you seriously couldn't care less about the way people make tea. how did stuff like this even make the news anyway?
you scroll through all your social media apps then decide to download a job app. you enter your qualifications, cv and a description about yourself and your current job. you apply to a few then feel yourself getting tired so you set your alarms and head to sleep, dreading having to see lando tomorrow. you hope he's in a good mood because even though it doesn't matter what mood lando is in, he's still a dick to you, he's a little bit nicer when he's in a better mood.
you go over everything in the morning before you leave, making sure you have everything. as you make your way to the uber waiting outside the hotel, you check the job app but you have no new notifications. you usually only uber back to the hotels and lando drives you there seeing as you both have to arrive at the same time but there was no way you were spending more time than what you had to with him today. you seen him in the hotel carpark getting into his car when your uber was pulling away, so at least you knew he would be on time.
you and lando arrive at the paddock at the same time, you know you would have to wait for him before going in because andrea wanted to have a quick meeting with the three drivers ahead of the practise session and qualifying.
lando sees you waiting and eventually catches up to you. "andrea wants to see you guys before free practise today. i don't know how long for but it might be long 'cause he wants to talk about quali too." you don't look up from your phone as you read out what had been added to his calendar late last night.
"alright." lando replies. there's no nasty comments, no bluntness and no condescension. you are completely shocked but don't let it show on your face as you both walk inside the mclaren motor home together.
you spot oscar in the corner, eating some sort or energy bar? or maybe some kind of breakfast bar. either way it reminded you that lando probably hasn't eaten yet today, so as he and oscar head towards the meeting room you try to find something lando can eat. oscar has told you many times that making sure lando eats is not in the assistants job responsibilities and yet you feel yourself compelled to make sure he is taking care of himself.
you grab a few of the same bars you seen oscar eating earlier before heading towards the meeting room. you hate walking into the meeting room when there was meetings going on so you try your best not to do it. you have only had to do it once and it was the worst thing you've ever had to do. you were so embarrassed.
everyone is surprised at your interruption but you give them a shy smile and head towards lando. you don't say anything just setting the three bars down on the table in front of him. lando locks eyes with you. "thank you." he says.
this time you can't hide your shock as it's written plainly on your face. it's hidden from the others in the room except lando. you only smile in response then rush out the room. what is going on with him today? you sit on the same table you tried to take your break on yesterday as you respond to emails of lando's behalf and it hits you. lando is clearly feeling bad. you'll talk to him before qualifying.
the meeting ends ends and both mclaren boys are quick to get ready for free practise. from the looks of it, zak was right. lando was back in the game today. he came in third on the time sheets. you hoped this would mean a good qualifying, if not for lando and mclaren but for you. this good mood and lando treating you nicer would definitely go down in flames if lando didn't place in the top five for qualifying. you have never been religious, but you prayed then for it to happen.
you stood at the back of the garage, talking to one of lando's engineers when the man himself came over and dragged you away from him. you didn't even get a chance to apologise for lando's rude behaviour before you were both standing in the hallway to the driver rooms.
lando doesn't speak he just leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a hesitant and light, kiss. when you didn't react he kissed you again with a little more force. every single thing in you was telling you to kiss him back but there was a single thought in your brain that reminded you who he was and how had treated you the past year. you end up pulling away and asking "what are you doing?".
lando looks at you confused. "you know what i'm doing." he utters, voice laced with confusion, like he seriously didn't understand what the problem with kissing you out of nowhere was.
"uh i don't think i do." you cross your arms, waiting for an expantation.
"i want you." lando tried to say confidently, but it comes out a little weaker than what he expected. he puffs out his chest and stands a bit taller, trying to see more confident.
"you want me?" you repeat back to him. surely he wasn't being serious.
"you know i do." lando responds, hand flying up to cup your cheek. you look at him confused. there is no way he has been living the same year that you have. what the fuck does he mean 'i want you'? you have literally never felt more confused in your life.
"do i? last time we spoke you wouldn't let me have a day off?" you remind him. you want to remind him of a lot of things right now, like every single moment he made you go home or even back to your hotel room and cry. his hand moves from your cheek.
"yeah and why do you think that was? because you were going on a date. with some guy. i don't want you going on dates with random guys i want you going on dates with me." lando tries, desperate to explain himself to you.
"i don't think you have a right to tell me who i can and can't go out with, lando." you are seething. who does he think he is messing around in your life like this? "you're abusing your position as my employer."
"fine. you want the weekend off to go on a date? you can have it off then." lando says, firm and a little sad. before you can say anything back to him, he storms away into his drivers room. you don't know why you just did that. you don't even want to go on the date, you would love to go on the date with lando instead, just like he proposed but you were still annoyed at the way he treated you. you know why he did it now but it still doesn't make it right.
you don't see lando for hours until there are people crowding around his driver room telling him it's time to come out for qualifying. you guess from the noise that lando eventually comes out. zak is there telling him information about the car. you suddenly feel that you need to tell him you do like him. right now. you just felt like he had to know. so you squeeze through the people making their way to his car with him. you find lando's hand and give it a tight squeeze to get his attention.
you pull him closer before you whisper into ear, not wanting all the people surrounding him to hear. "i want you too, but you hurt me. apologise and we can maybe work something out." you reveal. lando's eyes widen, with what you can clearly tell is happiness. he doesn't even have any time to answer you so all he gets to do is nod as he's told to get into the car.
you watch the qualifying with eager eyes, this is the fiirst time since you started that you were actually excited to watch lando race, even though it was just qualifying. he really does put the 'flying' into the flying laps. after a very long hour, lando qualifies in second.
"front row for lando!" the garage exclaims in joy. you can't help but join in. you all wait for lando's car to return to the garage before people are patting him on the shoulder in congradualations.
lando speaks to a few people before he spots you through the crowd, he wades through it to get to you. "hi. i'm so fucking sorry for being a dick to you for the past year. i don't know how to cope with my feelings and i ended up turning positive feeling into negative ones and taking it out on you. i'm so fucking sorry, please let me make it up to you." lando begs. you don't know how he knew that you didn't want anything big as an apology, just lando admitting he was wrong was enough for you.
you nod with a smile to his question and lando seals it with a kiss, not caring that the garage was filled with people and most importantly cameras. he could deal with that later. for right now he had you.
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puranami · 1 year ago
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✿ Fever - 1 ✿
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A/N: Not included Brook and Jimbei bc I have absolutely no idea how to write them. Also, since Chopper is baby it would feel weird including him, even though it'd be in a purely platonic way. Just because of all the pining going on. Idk, I'd rather keep the themes separate, if that makes sense?
Summary: You're sick and try to ignore it.
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Robin, Franky.
Content: SFW, G/N reader, no serious illness but Usopp's is a liiiiittle angsty bc of his mum, not proofread (effectively) bc it's past 2am ✿
(Part 2)
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Luffy
✿ He's honestly oblivious to things at first. You are doing your best to maintain your usual level of enthusiasm but it's so exhausting, and that's the most he registers - that you're tired.
"Hey, did ya not sleep too good?" he asked, entirely too loud for the headache beginning to form. You groan and lean your head into your hand, as if that would somehow soothe things, but to no avail. "Don't worry about it, I swear it won't affect my duties," you say, not sure who you were trying to convince. Apparently it didn't work regardless, as when you looked at him he was just stood there frowning with his arms crossed, and his head tilted. Before you could say anything you were greeted with a rubbery palm lightly smacking against your forehead, earning a surprised yelp from you. "You're hot." "Luffy!" Of course he had to say it that way. If you weren't already burning up with this fever, that would've set your skin ablaze. He really had no filter, and he never realised how the things he said affected you. He removed his hand from your face to grab your own, turning to drag you back to your quarters, not listening to any of your protests on the matter. There really wasn't anything you could do once Luffy had made up his mind, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't part of his charm. "No duties for you today, 'kay?" It may have been phrased like a question, but you knew it was 'Captain's orders.'
✿ You'd end up sleeping most of the day, with Luffy having gotten Chopper to look after you.
✿What you wouldn't be aware of was his constant presence while you slept, keeping a quiet vigil whilst he made sure the damp cloth on your head was always nice and cool.
✿ He just wants you to get better as fast as you can!
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Zoro
✿ One word; clueless.
✿ It just looks like a hangover to him, what with the way you groan at the light, are unsteady on your feet, and complain about being nauseous.
"And I thought I drank a lot last night." he'd comment with a smirk. "Shut up, Zoro, you always drink a lot," you whine. "I didn't drink anything!" "The pathetic whining says otherwise." You threw the rag you'd been cleaning with at him. He raised an eyebrow, watching it harmlessly drop to the floor in front of him. "Your form is off." This man, you swear! You try to growl out an insult, but it dies on your tongue, a wave of nausea hitting in it's place, causing you to clasp a hand to your mouth. "Alright, easy champ, no need to strain yourself," Zoro raised his hands in faux surrender. "Come on, you gotta sleep this one off." He can't help but smile as you pathetically smack at him while he picks you up, opting for bridal style as opposed to flour sack, only so you don't empty your guts down his back. Saying that, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy holding you like that, though you're far too busy trying to fight him to notice the dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Don't worry I'll get you through this. I know my way around a hangover." "I'm not hungover," you protest as he gently places you in a hammock.
✿ True to his word though, he does see you through it, even if 'it' is the wrong thing. Task failed successfully!
✿ Zoro stays beside you, makes sure you drink plenty of water, and get plenty of rest, even falling asleep himself at one point; his face inches from yours as he was leaning against the post the top end of the hammock was attached to at the time.
✿ Sadly you never saw that as you slept right through it. Would've been good ammunition to use against him when he needed taking down a peg.
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Nami
✿ One of the people who would actually do a good job of looking after you. She's not got the gentlest bedside manner; she is firm yet fair, so you're in good hands.
When you don't join the crew for breakfast, Nami took it upon herself to make sure you hadn't gotten tangled in your hammock, or something equally as stupid. You wake up in a cold sweat when you hear your door open, and manage to croak out, "Nami? Oh, did I oversleep?" When you try to get up, she pushes you right back down. "Don't." Her tone indicates that she will not tolerate any shenanigans, and so you do as you're told. "You need to sleep more. I'll get you some water, and later Sanji will make you some soup." She tucks a thin blanket around you, so you don't overheat. "If you so much as try to get out of this hammock I'm going to tie your arms and legs together. Understood?" Unable to stop yourself, you let out a light chuckle. "Nami, you're so cute when you pretend not to care," the fever disabling any kind of filter you may have had. While it did catch her by surprise, you are none the wiser, as you quickly drift back off to sleep. Nami has to take a brief moment to collect herself again, silently cursing the noticeable warmth in her cheeks, then mumbling about how you're an idiot before leaving your room.
✿ Nami basically dictates how your day is. Lots of sleep, plenty of fluids and maybe a warm bath to help sweat this out, and of course she 'requests' (demands) Sanji make a hearty soup to help you get better, which he is more than happy to do for her!
✿ She'll deny it, but she sets up in your room so she can monitor you throughout the day, only going to Chopper for medicine if she thinks it's bad enough, deciding it isn't necessary to bother him with something so manageable.
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Usopp
✿ He panics. Something about seeing someone he cares about getting sick makes him think of his mother, and he doesn't want to lose anyone else like that.
Usopp scoops you up and books it to Chopper. You've seen him afraid, but nothing this intense, and no matter how much you try to convince him that you're okay, and that it's just a cold - you can't seem to break through to him. "Chopper, please help! Please!" He begs as he gently places you on a bed. Tears are streaming down his face, as he takes your hand in a vice-like grip. Once Chopper confirms what you already tried to tell him about it being a common cold, he relaxes a bit. You don't hold it against him, clearly this is something deeper for him. Chopper's words, those of a professional, were very reassuring. "You just need rest, but I do have medicine to help with symptoms if you need," he says before putting a comforting little hoof on Usopp's knee. "Everything will be okay, I promise." Usopp takes a moment to collect himself before quietly saying, "Can I stay?" You and Chopper look at each other before smiling back at him, letting him know he is welcome to stay as long as he likes, or in this case needs. Neither of you press him on why this had him so scared, figuring he'll tell you if and when he's ready to.
✿ Chopper will handle all of your care, because Usopp refuses to leave your side.
✿ He keeps you entertained with his stories when you're awake, and scribbles on some loose papers Chopper gives him while you sleep. It's mainly ideas for things to make, and it keeps him calm.
✿ At one point he falls asleep with his arms crossed on the bed beside you, his little fingers linked with your own, like an unspoken promise that you'll get better, and he'll be there when you do.
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Sanji
✿ As soon as Sanji catches on that you are sick, he decides to completely dedicate himself to your care and recovery! He's very attentive, and will do every little thing you want or need to get you back to health.
"Darling, I insist!" Every 'it's okay,' and 'you don't need to do all that for me,' will be shot down immediately. "What kind of man would I be if I let someone as lovely as you do anything in this condition?" He clutches his chest dramatically. "No, no. Don't you worry about a thing; I'll make sure you're well again in no time at all." You really don't have the energy to try and dissuade him, so you accept your fate, and let him dote on you the whole day. It's honestly really nice; you love having his attention, and are thankful that the fever hides your blushes, but you also can't help feeling a little guilty with how much he does for you. "Please don't overexert yourself on my behalf, I don't want you to end up getting sick yourself." "Even if I was sick, it wouldn't stop me from looking after you, my dear." You can't help but frown at this. He's so eager to do for others, but is painfully stubborn about receiving that same care. "If you're ever sick, Sanji, I'm gonna do everything that you've done for me - and I won't hear any objection from you on the matter!" You say in as stern a voice as you can manage with a sore throat. "Darling-" "Nope!" You cut him off quickly, "You deserve the same level of care that you give out!" He looks at you a little wide-eyed, an adorable blush creeping along his face. He lets out a small laugh. As much as he'd like to, he says nothing more on it; you're as stubborn as he is it would seem.
✿ Sanji makes lots of lovely food to help aid in your recovery; warming soups, peppermint tea, porridge with ginger and honey. Everything that soothes and settles, no matter the malady.
✿ His bedside manner is impeccable! He's so gentle with you, and he makes sure to check in as often as he can, whilst still doing his duties, getting as much done as possible while you're asleep.
✿ Like Nami, he only goes to Chopper if he feels your condition requires it. He's confident that his cooking will be more than enough to get you back to health.
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Robin
✿ A blessing, and a curse. She's very logical, and she knows how to handle such a minor illness, but, she really can't help telling you all about other illnesses that have worryingly similar symptoms.
"Oh, this one is very unpleasant," she beams, and you can't help but press your hands over your ears. "Chopper!" You cry, before she can start telling you about this particular strain of 'instantdeathitus,' practically running into the infirmary with Robin hot on your heels, holding an open book on diseases. "Robin keeps talking about scary diseases and now I'm scared I'm gonna die!" After being given a quick check-up, and much reassurance that, no, you do not have a rare disease that can only be contracted on a specific island in a completely different ocean, and yes, it is just a common cold, you relax. Mostly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Robin says later once you have bundled up and settled down. "Your cold just reminded me of this book, and I thought it was fascinating. I just wanted to share it with you." She clearly felt guilty, and you appreciated that this was just how she is, but you really would've rather she'd chosen a different topic to tell you about. "Maybe, you have a book on old remedies you could tell me about instead?" Robin perks back up at this. She truly values how much you understand her, and she can see why talking about diseases when your ill is not the most pleasant experience, so this is a perfect compromise. "That's a wonderful idea," she smiles, and you swear she puts the sun to shame with how bright her smile is. "There might be one we can try that will help with your recovery."
✿ Once you get past the scary disease hiccup, Robin is a great companion, looking up home remedies, and trying out the ones that are clearly based on logic as opposed to superstition.
✿ If you find a good remedy, she's excitedly write it down, and later pass the information on to Chopper.
✿ She's happy to get you water when needed, and will watch over you as you nap in the library. It's one of the quietest parts of the ship, so there is no way to disturb you there.
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Franky
✿ Aside from Chopper, Franky is genuinely the best at dealing with sick people. He tones down his behaviour, and knows exactly what you need to get back on your feet.
Your head was absolutely thundering, at least that's how it felt. Franky clocked onto your condition as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen, and once you had what you came in for, he hurried you off to his workshop. You thought it was an odd choice. "Shouldn't I go somewhere quiet?" "I know it doesn't seem it, but I can keep this place absolutely silent if I need to. No music, no one else barging in and making a racket," he said, keeping his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Also the walls are soundproof - keeps noise out just as well as it keeps my noise in." "Oh! That's really impressive," even when ill, there is a sparkle in your eyes when he tells you about pretty much anything he's designed or built. You notice his cheeks turning red, but assume that it's just from the compliment as he looked so proud when you gave it to him. "That's not all," he grins, "I've been working on a lil something, and now's the perfect time to show you!" That certainly piqued your interest, and he was doing a great job at distracting you from how bad you felt. Franky led you to one of the corners of the room, one that was covered in a large tarp. You'd seen it many times, and you were always curious, but he'd always brushed it off whenever you brought it up, so the thought of finally seeing what was under there was exciting! Pulling down the tarp revealed a little alcove that was almost like a nest considering the amount of cushions. "It's a space for you," he said sheepishly, "so you have somewhere comfortable to sit when you hang out in here. I figured you could rest there whilst you're ill, and I can look out for you." You stared at it in absolute wonder, big shining eyes darting between it and him. "It's absolutely perfect, thank you so much!"
✿ Franky kept the workshop quiet like he said he would, and whenever you needed anything, like water or medicine, he'd go and get it for you.
✿ At some point Chopper came in to check on you, since Franky had mentioned you were ill, but there really wasn't much to do about it besides getting lots of rest, and you had that covered.
✿ He'd work on his quiet projects, the ones still in the planning and design stages, whilst you slept peacefully in your cosy nest.
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mev-fizzah-writes · 1 month ago
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ᑎᑌᗰᗷ 𓌉◯𓇋
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A/N: First fic on this acc!! Enjoy this little angsty fic :) Neglected bat!reader breaks their sobriety after their family makes a grave mistake. Sure Reader should be used to it by now, but offering them a drink? At a Gala they forced you to attend? On your birthday? What a load of bull. You pray that Damian doesn't find out...but sadly they don't get accepted. No beta reader, we die like Jason Todd TW: Substance abuse, alcoholism, brief mention of underage drinking, self harm etc .
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𐙚"Don't let them see you like this" -Alex G 𐙚
ᑎᑌᗰᗷ
That's what it felt like, not a single though in your mind. It was consumed by the taste on your lips, the bottle in your hand. Limp, you sat in your bathtub, surrounded by broken glass and empty beer cans. The loud city of Gotham seemed to finally be silence, it seemed distant. It was the only thing keeping you from fully drifting away, the faint sound of cars, the only time you thanked this godforsaken city for being loud.
Guilt hadn't reached your mind yet, you only wanted to drink. Focusing on how the burn in your throat made you feel, oh how it made you feel so alive. Each breath felt sharp against your throat, it made you want more. The alcohol coursed through your veins, providing an escape, providing a warmth no person ever gave to you.
Leaning more into the cold porcelain you stared at the shattered glass by your feet. You could feel its sharp edges against your feet, it was a constant reminder of your mistakes.
Unfixable, the glass and your life. But right now that didn't matter, only the bottle existed, the burn and the urge to finish it. You managed the strength to pull your arm up, tilting your head back to feel it. The taste you missed so much, a taste you wanted to forget had no idea why you would neglect. What a day to celebrate your twenty second birthday! Relapsing after two years wasn't your plan today but it sure was better than anything else that happened today.
The night, displayed by your bathroom window, taunted you. It made your mind float through an intoxicated haze. Pieces of the day coming back to you, as well as the -now broken- promises you made. A sigh left your lungs and it was evident that she had drank, so much. All of this, just because of one question. A question that shouldn't have broken your heart as much as it did, really it was pathetic.
"Why aren't you drinking tonight?"
The sound of your 'brothers' voice was distant, and so was the guilt that was soon to consume you. But as the line between fiction and reality blurred more with another sip, there was not a worry in your head. The guilt will come later, but here it was no where to be seen. The only thing you could grasp was the bottle you used to keep on the highest shelf.
A shelf that was now empty, thanks to your so-called family's echoes. Echoes that were forever etched into your brain. Not only had they forgotten about your birthday, forcing you into a social event that you already dreaded, but they had also forgotten about your sobriety. Was not drinking on your twenty-first not an obvious sign? The question had filled you with anger at first. Your fists were clenched to your side when Dick had asked that. Hopefully you would forget this day ever happended.
"Why aren't you drinking tonight?" Dick said with slurred speech, making your family turn their heads to you. At first you took it as a joke, that he was trying to make you less tense. When your chuckle left all of them confused that's why you could feel your heart shattered. It felt like time had stopped, like god was playing a joke on you. You just stared at them, not giving him an answer. "You're kidding." There was no point in hiding the sadness in your voice, there was no way anyone was going to care anyway. After a strangled 'yes' left his lips you decided there was no point in talking them. You took one last glance back at your dad Bruce, he looked like he was going to offer you a drink, that was the last straw, so you decided there was no point in staying. Sadly, you did. Just enough to take a sip of champagne, just enough to set you back. God did you wish Damian was with you, he would've remembered.
Remember. That's the only thing you wanted to do. Today was supposed to be simple, go with Damian to a petting zoo, visit you favourite café with a few friends and be done with your day.
Damian...would he have stopped you from doing this? He was too young to attend whatever you were at this morning and sadly he wanted to meet up with his friend. You weren't going to stop him, he was the only one that listened to you and vise versa.
It made you chuckle, every time you told him about how much you used to drink, and every time he would give a small lecture on how much it impacts your liver and brain. Being a doctor would really suit him.
Just as you close your eyes you see a small light peeking outside the door. Light footsteps followed soon after, and suddenly everything is crashing down. You shake your head, hoping, praying that it isn't Damian. You'd rather it be a murderer coming to finally end you then your little brother. No, he had so much faith in you, please. Sadly, if you speak of the devil, he appears.
The light spilling in from the living room stung your eyes, luckily they were already tearing up.
"Sorry I didn't knock, but can you pick up the phone-"
You saw it, the way his eyes widen an he drops your phone. The way the his green eyes suddenly become more reflective, is hands twitched and he took a step back. Your baby brother, staring at you with such a distaste and confusion and...there was nothing you can do. There was no way you could've gotten up to hug hum, even reassuring him seemed impossible in your state. Glass etched into your foot, a pool of blood by feet as your eyes fluttered.
"Wha...y-you promised!" His voice wobbled with an anger that you understood all too well. The way his eyes switched between shock and sadness and the way he seemed to be frozen on the spot. It was like looking into a mirror ten years ago. He stared at you the same way you stared at your mother, it was driving you crazy with guilt.
"Dami..." you croaked out, feeling nothing but selfish.
"No. Keep your eyes open I-I'll call an ambulance. I...I" watching him stutter didn't do anything good for your heart, you just wanted to hold him and tell him that this was just some sick prank.
"I'm sorry...just don't tell Dad." The way you uttered those words seemed to catch him off goard.
"This...feels like a matter that should be reported to hi-"
"Dami. Just don't...please." To be honest, you were baffled he was even understanding you. It didn't even feel like english you were speaking. "I love you, buddy..."
If those were your last words, you were glad. Soon the coldness of the porcelain was no longer there, and there was only a faint ringing you could here. Maybe you were dying? It was a lot less scary then what you thought it would be, it was just...numb. No taste of alcohol, no warmth, no burn. Only numbness.
Just numb.
Numb.
๋࣭ ⭑Laying there lifeless...๋࣭ ⭑
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cozage · 8 months ago
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hello! Im kinda new to tumblr so i dont really know if im supposed to send requests here so sorry if im supposed to send it somewhere else, but for my request can it be fem! Reader x sanji? Hurt to comfort where he says something mean but then apologizes? And can you pull out the angsty bit a little, but make the ending fluffy? And for the format can it be like a mini fic? If you want you can add other characters but i mainly want sanji! Thats all! Sorry if my request didnt make sense as im new to tumblr😔. Thank youu!
A/N: Hi! You did everything perfectly!! Thank you for the request <3 it was so hard to make Sanji mean even accidentally 😭 I hope this is good! It’s also not edited so please forgive any grammatical errors!  Characters: fem reader x Sanji Cw: Sanji is an idiot and says mean things (and is a little sexist) Total word count: 900
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“I can do it, Sanji.” Your words came out quick and short. Your temper was rising, both at your task at hand and the blonde who was hovering behind you. He didn’t normally come with you on jobs for Franky, but he had been free today.
“It’ll be faster if I do it,” Sanji offered. He reached out for the wrench. 
“I can do it!” you snapped again. You pulled away from the task and glared at him. “Franky asked me to do this, so let me do it!”
“Well, it’s just…” Sanji eyed your clenched fist around the wrench and took a step back. “It’s not really a woman’s job to do this sort of thing, and-”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” you bellowed. “You think I’m not capable of doing this?”
Sanji threw his hands up in a plea. “No my love! It’s not that at all! It’s just…you’re not very good at this.”
It felt as though you had swallowed a stone. “Franky always asks me to do this.”
“And you’re being very helpful!” Sanji said quickly. “But he gives it to you because it’s not exactly a top priority task and…well, it’s really hard to mess up.” 
Sanji gave a weary look back to your workplace as if your handiwork spoke for itself. His pitied gaze and words made you suddenly want to be alone. 
“Fine,” you mumbled, dropping the wrench to the ground. “Fix it for me, then.”
“Of course, darling!” Sanji jumped at the wrench. You were fairly sure he was already starting to explain how he turned the bolt, but you walked out the door without listening further. 
You didn’t see Sanji for a while. That was fine with you, though. You retreated to the back of the ship and perched atop a barrel, staring out at the sea to think. Did Franky always give you useless tasks just to keep you busy? You frequently had to return to the same tasks again and again. What if Franky broke things just to have you fix them? 
The thought brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure Franky enjoyed your company and valued your help. He had called you “super indispensable” more times than you could count. Was it all just a lie?
“Darling?” 
Sanji’s voice broke through your mental spiral and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks. 
“Yeah?” Your voice came out wobbly, but there was no point in hiding from Sanji. 
You turned to face him. You had been ready for him to fuss over you, but you found that he was covered in sweat and grease and plenty of other weird stains and smears. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge your puffy eyes at first. He looked too exhausted. 
“So, this is the part where I apologize,” he said softly. 
He strode over to you in three steps and swept your hair out of your face. His hands were covered in grime, and you could feel the oily substance stick to your face. The feeling made you jerk away from him, but he was already pulling out a clean cloth and wiping it away. 
“I’m sorry I said those things, my love. I know you are very capable of doing anything you put your mind to. Your persistence is one of my favorite things about you. I shouldn’t have tried to take that away from you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry I thought I could do something better than you just because of our genders.”
His words made your eyes swell. You had planned on still being mad at him after this. But seeing those crystal blue eyes and hearing his sweet words made you crumble all over again. 
“I forgive you.” You sniffed and wiped the tears from your eyes again. “Just don’t do it again.”
Sanji let out a laugh. “Oh, I will never be taking on a task Franky gives you again. You know how I said it was ‘hard to screw up’? It turns out that was wrong. I broke the whole pipe. Franky was pissed. He said he doesn’t let anyone touch that problem except you and him. Something about the pressure system needing a delicate hand, and only the two of you have the knack for it.”
It took a moment for his words to process, but you could feel your heart swelling. “Franky only lets me do that?”
Sanji nodded, guiding you towards the kitchen. “And a few other tasks. Says you’re the only one he trusts to do it right.” 
“I didn’t know that.” You had a vague feeling that you needed to cry for an entirely different reason now. 
He gave another laugh and sat you at the counter. “Well, you always excel at everything you do. It turns out I have a lot to make up for. What should we start with, chocolate cake or ice cream?”
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touyaismycomfortboy · 2 months ago
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♡ how can i call myself a man?
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a/n: i'm rewatching mha and i'm going thru season four and the kirishima episode got me missing my boy i need to write him :((
word count: 3.3k
synopsis: you and kirishima are doing your work studies together, you went out on patrol alone and were cornered by a villain. it tried to attack kirishima and you blocked the attack, getting severely injured in the process, now kirishima is blaming himself for your injuries.
pairing: ejirou kirishima x fem prns!reader
genre: a little angsty hurt comfort oneshot <3
warnings: violence, injuries, cussing, blood, passing out, kirishima sad :( biggest warning of all methinks, also not proofread
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  "Alright, I think you both have learned enough to patrol on your own now." 
  You and Ejirou were beaming at Fatgum's words, you were doing your best not to jump up and down with excitement and tried to keep a professional appearance, but Ejirou didn't care and simply pumped his fist up in the air. "Hell yeah!"
  You giggled at your boyfriend's excitement, looking at him and then back at Fatgum. "Are you absolutely positive? You really trust us that much?" 
  Fatgum nodded, shoving a takoyaki in his mouth. "Of course, you guys are doin' really well." He smiled at you both. "Nothing much really going on today, plus Suneater and I will be out patrolling as well so if you need anything you can give us a call." He winked, shoving more food in his cheeks.
  You glanced over at Tamaki in the corner, his forehead was pressed against the wall and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his hero costume, but he took one of his hands out to give you guys a thumbs up. "Y-You got this."
  You and Eijirou calmly walked out of the room, then as soon as the doors closed were giddily freaking out, you were jumping up and down and he was punching the air excitedly. "Alright! Let's do this!" His gravelly voice called out as he punched the air once more, smiling at you before you both exited the building.
  It was a beautifully sunny day, a little hot but not unbearable, and you kept water on the belt of your hero costume so you and him would stay hydrated. "So, Red Riot," You started, trying to keep your giggles to yourself. "How does it feel to be doing fully fledged hero work?" You held an imaginary microphone to his face. 
  He "grabbed" the imaginary microphone out of your hand and grinned, speaking into it. "I just have to say, IT'S HECKIN' AWESOME." He didn't mean to be so loud, he was just so excited he couldn't help it! He "threw" the imaginary microphone on the ground and looked back at you. "We gotta stay focused though, because like you said, we are doing full-fledged hero work, we can't let Fatgum and Suneater down!" 
  You nodded in agreement, keeping your eyes facing the streets and giving cursory glances in every direction to see if you could catch anything suspicious. "Of course, this is a pretty good area of town though. I doubt we'll see anything besides petty theft."
  "Yeah, but still, true heroes will keep their eyes and ears open no matter if it's a good area or the worst area! Villains are everywhere!" Eijirou said passionately, looking forward very attentively as he scanned the area. 
  You smiled at how serious he was, and obviously you were serious about this too, you wouldn't have applied for hero studies if you weren't, but there was something so special about Eijrou and his drive, you really admired how badly he wanted this. 
  Your thoughts of admiring your boyfriend were quickly interrupted by the sound of a window shattering from around the corner, you and Eijirou quickly looked at each other, then bolted the sound of the noise, quickly turning the corner. 
  You saw a villain step out of the corner store with a bag around his shoulder. Didn't look like anyone important, just a nobody trying to make a quick buck. Eijirou immediately turned his body rock hard and turned into a human shield and instinctively stood slightly in front of you, you activated your quirk as well and scowled at the villain. "Hey, you! Stop right there!" You shouted, taking a step forward.
  The scum villain stopped in his tracks and looked at you both, his body relaxing when he saw you two? "HAH! You think you high school kids can stop me?" He cackled, dropping his bag of money on the ground. He turned towards you both, and your knees got wobbly. Usually, you have a pro hero with you during times like these, but now it's just you and Eiji. 
  You heard the screams of some bystanders and he took a step towards you both, hearing the bystanders run in an opposite direction. You had a pager in your pocket that connected to Fatgum and Tamaki, you subtly pressed it before stepping to the side of Eijirou, both of you collectively blocking this direction of the narrow street. 
  "Robbing a Mom n' Pop shop? That's low," Eijirou frowned, stepping towards him while his body was still rock hard, already in a fighting stance. "That's not manly at all!"
  The villain clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I don't care, boy. I need a quick buck." The villain bent over for a moment, it looked like he was somehow activating some kind of quirk of his? 
  You looked around once more and made sure most bystanders had fled the scene, any that were still there you shoo'd away quickly and took a deep breath, taking a step back just in case his quirk was long-range. 
  The villain seemed to cover his body in little triangle knives… they almost looked like arrowheads. He cried out and stood up straight, the arrowheads shooting in every direction. Eijirou quickly covered your body with his, the arrows bouncing off his hardened skin. 
  You and Eiji worked so well together because he was the shield and you were the spear, once the rain of arrowheads had ended you stepped away from him and shot your quirk at the villain, doing your best to knock him out but not kill him. You know, heroes' laws and all that. 
  The villain roared at your attempt to attack him, dodging your quirk with ease and you gulped. This wasn't just some random street thug, come on Fatgum, where are you?!
  The villain got on all fours and looked like it was ready to pounce, and started to run towards you both. 
  And just like any hero, your body moved without thinking. 
  You lunged in front of Eijirou instinctively, your mind a complete blur, your only instinct was to protect and no thoughts entered your mind after you jumped.
  It was like everything was in slow motion, Eijirou tried to reach out and shove you out of the way while you lunged, but it was too late.
  The hero rammed into you with intense force and you were knocked to the ground a few feet to the side of Eijirou, the wind getting knocked out of you. You didn't even have a chance to catch your breath though, as soon as your head hit the pavement you were out, completely unconscious. 
  Eijrou stared in horror at your limp body lying on the ground, his attention being forced away from you as the villain roared once more. Eijirou was so taken aback by what you did he hadn't even noticed he had lost focus on his quirk and was back to normal, the villain started to run towards him again and he hardened just in time for the villain to clash with Eijirou's arms that were in an X above his head, small parts of his arm cracking and a few bits crumbling and falling to the ground from the pressure the villain was putting on his arms.
  Eijirou's brows were furrowed and his jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth through the pain as he tried to withstand the pressure that the villain was putting on his body. He couldn't give up, he couldn't go limp, what would this villain do to your unconscious self if he didn't persist?
  The pain was getting to him, tears welling in his eyes as the villain was able to use his force to push Eijirou back slightly, his feet digging into the ground beneath him and leaving a trail of broken concrete.
  Eijirou felt his arms faltering, his strength wouldn't be able to handle much more, and his body was giving out from the constant pressure. He saw your limp body in his periphery, and saw red pooling underneath your head… he lost focus immediately once he saw the sight.
  The villain shoved Eijirou to the ground, he fell onto his back and looked up at the villain above him. The villain formed an arrow within his palm, he aimed it at Eijirou's neck and was going to shoot- 
  SHHLP
  Tentacles wrapped around the villain tightly and swung him into the air before throwing him into a bright yellow and plush figure, Eijirou immediately sat up.
  Suneater… Fatgum…!! 
  He saw the villain be absorbed into Fatgum's stomach, he wasted no time running over to your limp form and placed an arm under your neck, lifting you up slightly. 
  "No, no, no, no, no-" His arm felt warm as he lifted your upper body, blood. "Fuck, no, no, y/n, please wake up-" He placed two fingers on your pulse, his breath getting more shallow as he felt weak heartbeats. 
  He looked up at Tamaki and Fatgum, expecting to see them in the distance, but Tamaki was already right above you both as Fatgum was handing the villain over to the authorities. Eijirou looked up at Tamaki, his eyes welled with tears. 
  Tamaki knelt down on the ground, some of the blood on the concrete getting onto his white hero costume as he also quickly felt the pulse on your wrist. "Q-Quickly, move her up more so I can see her head…" 
  Eijirou wasted no time lifting up your torso more, his movements ginger and delicate. A staggering juxtaposition to his ragged breaths and frightened eyes. Tamaki examined the back of your head, and before he could get a good look, Eijirou saw ambulance lights near the police.
  Eijirou stood up, carrying you bridal style and ran towards the ambulance, not caring about the blood that was dripping onto his arm and down to the ground as he ran.
  "H-Help… help, please!!" He shouted, and the EMTS rushed to your side. "She got hit… she fell and hit her head on the concrete, she hasn't woken up since, please help her, please-"
  They quickly pulled out a stretcher. "Lay her down." They instructed, opening the back of the ambulance so they could load you up. "How long has she been out?" 
  Eijirou delicately laid you on the stretcher. "I-I don't know, maybe two minutes? Just please, please help her-" 
  The EMTS loaded you into the ambulance faster than Eijirou could think, a few staying behind a little longer to ask more clarifying questions and check on his condition as well. He started to feel numb, his mind mostly empty as they wrapped bandages around the exposed skin on his arms from the cracks, all he could think about was the feeling of your warm blood against his arm, he didn't even want to think about how bad the gash must have been for you to have been bleeding that much.
  He looked at the stain on the ground as they taped the whole area of the corner store with caution tape as they investigated the crime scene. That was your blood, yours. 
  And it was all because he failed to protect you.
-
  He couldn't sleep for the next few days after that, he couldn't even eat. His classmates tried to coax him out of his room, tried to shove food underneath his door for him to eat, and most of it ended up going cold and in his trash can since it was no longer edible.
  He had called the hospital every day, and right now your condition was bad enough that only immediate family were allowed to visit you. 
  All because he couldn't fucking protect you. 
  He punched his punching bag. How could he fail to protect you? He was supposed to be your shield, he failed his one goddamn job and now you're paying the price for it.
  He should've already been standing in front of you, he should've had a hand on you to make sure you couldn't jump in front of him, he should've been fasted so he could move you out of the way. He could've taken the villain's attack, you can't. 
  He was your boyfriend for god's sake, even if he didn't have a defensive quirk it was still his job to protect you, how could he let this happen? 
  He punched the punching bag harder and faster.
  How is he supposed to be a hero if he can't save the ones that are most important to him? If he can't even save them how he is he supposed to save innocent bystanders? He's not even a pro hero yet and he's already failing his one job. How was he supposed to call himself a man? Even a boy would've done a better job protecting you, what if you died and it was all his fault? What if you'll never be the same? What if-
  Knock knock.
  Eijirou was torn from his thoughts, looking towards the door. He looked down at his knuckles, guess he hadn't realized how hard he was punching his punching bag, his knuckles were bruised. 
  "No, Mina, I don't need any more food." He groaned, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.
  "This isn't Mina." The voice was deep, tired. He recognized it. Aizawa?
  Eijirou suspiciously walked to the door and opened it up, looking at his teacher before him. "Mister Aizawa, what are you doing here?" 
  "I got a call about y/n's condition." 
  His heart stopped.
  "Is she okay? Is she awake? How bad are her injuries? Can I-" 
  "She's awake, and you're the first person she asked for. You're allowed to visit her now." Aizawa said calmly, not sure how Eijirou would react to the news. 
  Eijirou didn't stop to think for even a moment, he immediately ran out of his room past Aizawa and ran downstairs to the common area. He was in his pajamas, and his hair was lying flat on his head, but he didn't have time to think about or even fix those things, he could only think about you. 
  His classmates were shocked to see him downstairs. "Hi Kiri, what's the big rush?" Tsu asked, sitting cross-legged on the couch. 
  Eiji didn't respond, he had to see you. He quickly ran out of the building, running straight off campus to the nearest train station. It took a couple of minutes, but it was the fastest he had ever run to the train station before. He ran inside of it, holding on to one of the standing bars as he anxiously tapped his foot against the ground. 
  He wouldn't sit, he couldn't sit. If he sat down he'd be able to feel the churning in his stomach a lot easier, he was so scared to see you. 
  After what felt like the longest train ride of his life, he was the first one to run out of the train. He ran straight into the hospital doors and right up to the front desk, anxiously tapping his foot once more as he gave the desk lady his information. 
�� He was told what room you were in and immediately went to the nearest elevator, making sure it was empty so he wouldn't have to wait for anyone else and quickly pressed the button for what floor you were on. 
  He wasn't sure if it was the movement of the elevator or just him, but his stomach felt so queasy, like he could throw up. What if you weren't the same? What if his mistake has ruined you forever? What if you were no longer able to become a hero and it was all his fault?
  The elevator dinged and he froze, staring as the doors opened and looked down the hallway, he could see which room had your number. 
  He took a deep breath, before speedwalking to your door, he didn't want to run and disturb all the other patients, but he could barely wait another moment to see you. He walked up to your room, walked through the door and passed the curtain and-
  He saw you. You had IV fluids going into your arm and bandages wrapped around your head. It looked like your arms were bruised from where you landed, and you were wearing a blue hospital gown. 
  Despite the IV and the bandages, and your injuries that looked to be very painful, you were sitting there peacefully eating your lunch. Like nothing was wrong with you. 
  You looked up at Eijirou and smiled innocently. "There you are!" You grinned, setting your place to the side. "I wasn't going to make it another second without you." You beckoned him towards you with your arms.
  Eijirou stayed silent, he bit his lip and his eyes welled with tears. He quickly ran towards you, gently engulfing you in a hug and squeezing you gently.
  You smiled when he hugged you, completely oblivious to your tears. "I missed you too, Eiji, I-" 
  "It's all my fault." He croaked, his voice was barely a whisper. If he talked any louder, his voice would crack and he would start crying. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" He squeezed you a little tighter, but his grasp was barely tight at all, he was so scared of hurting you. "It's my job to protect you, I failed, I'm so sorry…"
  You gasped, your heart shattering into a million pieces at his words. Your chest started to ache, had he really been blaming himself like this the whole time you've been unconscious? 
  You squeezed him as tightly as your injured arms would allow, shaking your head quickly. "No, no! It's not your fault Eiji," You ran your hands through his hair. "I chose to jump in front of you, my body moved before I could think," You pushed him back a little to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry that your quirk isn't telepathy, but there's no way you could've known I was going to do that. I didn't even know I was going to do that, this isn't your fault at all."
  "I should've done more…" Eijirou's body was wracked with a sob, but he did his best to hold in his cries. "I should've been standing in front of you, not to the side of you, I should've had a hand on you to make sure you wouldn't move, I should've-"
  You cupped his face. "Eiji," You looked deep into his eyes. "I'm okay, no more what if's. I'm right in front of you, that's all that matters." 
  His eyes were full of tears, a few of them had streamed down his cheeks. He looked into your eyes, then gazed at the bandage on your head, his mind flashing to the image of your blood covering his arm and…
  He tried to shake the thought away, looking at your smiling face now. You were right, you were okay, and you were here with him right now. But he would never forgive himself for this even if you insisted it wasn't his fault, even though you were okay how much pain were you in? How much of it was all his fault? He will never stop thinking about it. 
  He didn't want to argue with you about this anymore, didn't want you to waste what little energy you had bickering with him, so he just nodded for now, looking downward. 
  "Can you cuddle with me? I've missed you so terribly…" You asked, your eyes pleading. 
  You didn't have to ask him twice, he immediately crawled into your hospital bed and curled up next to you, wrapping his arms around you gently as he nuzzled your neck, and you both stayed like that until you both finally had the first good sleep you have had in days….
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allfearstofallto · 11 months ago
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hii! can i make a request?
I've been thinking about angsty things a bit. say if, reader got pregnant, would she hate it? how would scara/childe react? in my opinion, id like to think that scara thinks of this as a way to tie her down to him more, plus its canon he likes kids!! and as for childe i think he'd be very very happy since he has soooo many siblings, (maybe he wants a lot of kids too??)
and..what if reader miscarried? i have this thought of where scara would still be cold to her but give her breaks and more space than usual, but what if reader completely locks herself in and then when he confronts her about it they get into a huge argument, how would scara tackle that, would he resort to abusive tactics and would it increase readers hatred & distance more?
just a brainrot, you dont have to write about it if you're not comfy^_^
This took me so so so long!! I'm so sorry if you were waiting for it!!
I don't typically write for things like pregnancy because it makes me uncomfortable, but I'd be lying if I said I do not absolutely fucking adore angst and hopelessness.
Parasite
Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: 18+ MDNI, Dark Content, Forced marriage, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Mentions of Dub/Non-Con
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A week late turned into two. Two turned into a month. A month turned into three. And three turned into unusual cravings for foods that didn't go together. Sickness and vomiting clouded the hours of your mornings. Dread filled your body the second you realized what this was. Stress makes your cycles late, you told yourself, stress makes your entire body change, and this was a stressful situation, but stress wasn't causing this, was it?
Scaramouche could tell the changes in you immediately. As someone who constantly kept tabs on your life, it was only fair to assume that he'd noticed your slight fluctuation in weight and lack of asking for your monthly cloths. When you were called into his office, you felt a hot flash all over your body, you assumed it was fear, but it could've also been nausea.
His office was a place filled with dread. The air in the room was too thick and worst of all, he was there. The room made you feel small, the only good thing about it was that he was usually too focused on his mile high stacks of paperwork. Except today. Today his razor sharp gaze was focused on your trembling form as you bowed to him, his eyes following down, then back up.
“Answer me honestly,” he began, hands planted on the wood in front of him, “Are you with child?”
If you could throw up again, you would. Of course, you knew all this time, but you never wanted to say it. You hoped, just hoped and prayed that maybe if you never acknowledged it, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream. But it was true. There was something disgusting living inside you. And it was his.
“I believe so, my lord,” the words couldn't even completely fall from your lips before you were a blubbering, sobbing mess of anguish and fear. Despite the fact that you were completely breaking down before him, he had a small smile on his face, like he was proud of what he'd done to you.
“That's good,” he said calmly, wiping away your tears and planting a forced kiss upon your face. His touch felt cold as ice, but his hands against you made you want to melt your skin away.
The reaction to the “good news” was immediate, whether that was good or bad was up in the air, but everything changed. The tight obi of all the kimono you owned would put too much pressure on your budding stomach, new one's were ordered to be ready as you grew more in size. Your diet was changed completely, less of the Inazuma raw delicacies and more lean meat and vegetables. Daily classes of calligraphy and tea ceremonies were switched to resting with your feet up or light stretching, everything to keep you happy and healthy during your pregnancy.
The biggest change was Scaramouche himself. A man filled with so much hatred and disgust, was suddenly being kinder. Or trying to at least. You watch him open his mouth to make a comment, only to shut it again in favor of saying something still rude, but less insulting.
The Scaramouche that believed that he could take your body whenever he pleased was long gone, even though that was what got you in this predicament in the first place. He'd taken to leaving you in the middle of the night and going to the bathroom to sate his urges. He'd come back with cold damp hands and lay next to you, a protective hand over your stomach as he kissed your cheek and told you how much he loved you.
The day you saw blood between your legs and felt an aching pain in your stomach was a joyous one indeed. A part of you wanted to scream out in glee, but you didn't want to wake your already on edge husband. The blood that coated your fingers could only mean one thing. One good thing. It was gone. You were free of it. Almost immediately, the dark air that seemed to linger over your body vanished and you let out a sigh of relief.
Scaramouche was informed shortly before breakfast that same morning. You relayed the information to a maid, who then told him, whispering the words in his ear so quietly, it sounded like she was speaking gibberish. His face, his expression, changed to one shock, then horror, then pain. You didn't even know he could make such a face, yet there he was with tears in his eyes.
“Wh-what happened?” There was that tone again. The one you were used to. The anger and distaste for you in his voice. He slammed his fist down on the desk, turning his head away from you as his voice became high and breathy, so desperate for answers, “What did I do wrong?”
You stood in his office awkwardly, even this display from a person you hated, this display of agony was hurting you as well. You thought it would be funny. Seeing the man who pulled you from your home and forced you into marriage in pain was supposed to make you happy, but you felt your own chest clenching, felt your hands tremble.
“I-i suppose…I was stressed, my lord,” you muttered, his already labored breaths hitching at those words. The few months you were carrying that thing inside your body, was when he asked for less from you. He expected you to laze around all day and relax. For your body to fall into a daze like trance of naps and delicious food. He wanted happiness for both you and his child that you carried, yet you were still the most stressed you'd ever been in your entire life, knowing that he had something inside you. Something that would continue to fester and grow, until it eventually ate you alive.
He sat back in his office chair dejected, hurt, and empty. Scaramouche's normally sharp, glaring eyes were wide as he stared at the ceiling, body limp as he bit his lip, “Leave me,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. Had it not been for the quietness of the room, you wouldn't have heard him.
Leave him you did, closing the door as silently as possible and not lingering behind. You felt yourself finally stop tensing, telling yourself that all your woes were over, for now. The thing was gone. You were happy. For once, even if unintentionally, you'd won over your captor.
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makeyoumine69 · 4 months ago
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Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k
𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You
ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!
𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]
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An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    
In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 
God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?
With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…
A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.
Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.
I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!
 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 
If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?
 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 
"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.
"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."
Fuck, I really didn't.
Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."
Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.
"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 
The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 
Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.
Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.
Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.
"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"
My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.
"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"
"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."
Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 
For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.
"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.
"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.
Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.
Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 
"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."
"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."
"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."
Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.
Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.
My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 
Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 
I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.
"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."
I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"
My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.
Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?
Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.
Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.
"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"
Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.
Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.
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A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.
Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.
Who can call her at this hour?
With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"
"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"
"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"
I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."
"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.
Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"
Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."
Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.
What the fuck?
Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.
"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."
"Evelyn!"
"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"
With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 
It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.
The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 
"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.
Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."
My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.
Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.
"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.
"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."
At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.
"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."
Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.
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The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 
So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.
"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."
"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."
Friend?
I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"
Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."
"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"
I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.
"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."
Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"
Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.
Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?
The moment was ruined, and so was I.
"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"
"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"
The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.
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This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.
As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 
"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"
"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.
The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 
"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.
"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 
The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.
"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"
I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.
God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.
"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"
The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."
I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"
"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."
This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.
At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"
"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."
"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."
"A girl like me?"
"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 
"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.
Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.
As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 
"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"
I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."
Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"
At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."
The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.
"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"
"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 
"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"
"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"
I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.
"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"
By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 
Shameless, pathetic whore.
With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."
Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.
"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"
I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 
"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"
With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."
Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.
Perfection.
As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.
As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.
"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."
After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:
"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."
I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"
My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.
"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."
"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."
With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.
Fuck it!
Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.
"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"
"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"
Stupid bitch.
In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.
And that started to disappoint me.
When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.
"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"
All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.
 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.
"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."
Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.
"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.
Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?
"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 
This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.
"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 
This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 
"Patrick...please!"
"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"
In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.
"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"
The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."
"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."
"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.
"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."
I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?
When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.
As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"
"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.
My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"
"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"
"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"
"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"
"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"
With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.
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The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.
Inhuman.
What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?
This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.
The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.
Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.
The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.
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A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.
Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.
And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.
Fuck, where did I even get this gram?
I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.
"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."
The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 
Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.
"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.
"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"
"Who...am I talking to?"
"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."
Was this some kind of prank? 
I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...
"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"
"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"
"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."
Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 
"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"
Fuck!
I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?
Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?
As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.
Okay… this feels…too real.
Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…
Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...
When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"
Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."
"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"
"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.
"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."
"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.
Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.
"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."
The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"
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Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.
I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.
As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 
To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."
"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."
Out of the office…shit.
"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.
"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."
"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."
A short pause seemed like an eternity.
"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.
My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."
"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.
"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."
And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.
Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.
Holy shit.
A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.
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Knock…knock…
What is this? Am I still alive?
I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.
With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 
As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.
"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.
"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"
"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."
My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 
"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."
The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"
"11 a.m., sir."
"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."
The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."
Sunday?
A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"
"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."
I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"
"I...I guess so?"
I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.
My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.
Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.
I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.
In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.
Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."
The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.
"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."
"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.
“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 
Damn, not this fucking question.
I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."
I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.
After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."
"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.
It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.
A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"
The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.
"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."
"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."
Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.
"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"
"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"
"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."
Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.
"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."
"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."
"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."
The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.
After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"
Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."
"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"
"No...I don't think so."
Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 
Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."
"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"
"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.
"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 
"...in Chicago?" 
"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"
The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.
Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"
"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."
"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."
Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.
"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."
"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."
As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.
"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 
"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 
"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"
At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.
Definitely not.
"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 
You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.
"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."
"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."
The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.
"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"
Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.
Because you were my salvation.
With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.
"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."
I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.
"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."
I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."
"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."
"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"
My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.
Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."
Oh, dear.
With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"
This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.
"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"
"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.
Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."
What?
We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 
"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.
"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."
"What is this?"
"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."
I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 
"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."
"Since childhood, I think."
"Oh... that's... a lot."
"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."
"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.
"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."
And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."
Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.
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An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.
"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"
"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."
"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"
"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"
No, that can't be.
"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."
My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.
"Was it really a question?"
"And what do you think it was?"
"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."
"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."
"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"
"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."
"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."
You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.
With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞
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yayll · 3 months ago
Note
Soo umm maybe angsty request but a reader who works at the agency but misses her old life? Like, family or her old self. If you wanna and like the idea!! Have fun💕
i know this is a thousand yrs late and i am so sorry abt that but also. thank you for trusting me w this request i rlly took it to heart and i cracked these damn knuckles and hopefully wrote something you'll like :') i had fun, angel. MWAH.
- a little something about emotions and Dazai's way of perceiving yours ~
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"Aughhh..."
You're groaning at your desk again, face down and resting your forehead on the cold wooden surface. Lately, it's been the same cycle. You come to work and the day goes by in a blink of an eye, and suddenly... There is nothing else to look forward to but to do it all again tomorrow. It's been tough, with the agency constantly bombarded with cases and quite literally saving the world, you've forgotten to call home every week like you used to. Now it's every other month, if at all.
There are times when you go on your lunch break and think about how ordinary your life used to be, how you used to spend your time doing the opposite of what you do now. Joining the agency was a wonderful turning point in your life and you wouldn't trade it for the world, but sometimes it felt like there was too much happening, you were falling behind and not connecting enough with the foundations that made you, you. It was an overstimulating nightmare.
Your co-workers were so talented and caring and it felt like a family with the way you all worked as a unit and watched out for each other, yet the intrusive thoughts about you never quite fitting in wouldn't leave your mind. Or your face, for that matter.
This is where Dazai knew he had to get involved.
He could tell your mind was elsewhere, and he hated that. You were supposed to be wherever he was, even if you didn't fully know it yet. He constantly perceived you from across the office where he slacked off work as usual, but this time it wasn't to await his next grand revelation... It was to figure out why you seemed so distant. So far, yet so close. You always laughed at his jokes and antics, all a part of his attention seeking persona around the agency, but he could hear the way your laugh seemed to die down in your throat as if it burned to even make a sound. He recognized it as the kind of burn whiskey left behind in his own throat when he had his occasional drinks at Lupin after a particularly hard day. Dazai knew the feeling of ruminating, of feeling stuck in the past and how it could keep you from existing in the present if not dealt with properly. But he wasn't exactly the shining example of dealing with one's feelings, not when he was a walking contradiction, which is why he hesitated to bring this up to you directly.
Of course, that didn't stop him from trying, not when you're groaning so adorably within earshot.
Not when he would do anything for you to drop that fastidious attitude that won't give him the proper time of day. It was pathetic and selfish of him, but it was sincere. With a fixed smile like a Cheshire cat, he prances towards your desk and stands there for a solid minute before you realize the familiar entity looming over you.
You slowly look up, dark under eyes are the first to properly greet him, along with that cute clip in your hair that's barely holding it all together. He thinks you look even cuter this way even if you were at your worst, and that made him feel a tad guilty... just a tad. He clears his throat softly as a deceptively cheerful voice pours out of him.
"Hi! You're looking awfully exhausted today."
You hum, a weak smile adorning your lips. You didn't want to smile at all, but it was a force of habit, so why not use it on the biggest clown you knew?
"Yeah? That's real observant of you, Dazai."
His heart races as you poke back, what a precious creature you were. He responds with faux indignance, rolling his eyes and the whole bit.
"Uh yeah, of course! It's why they pay me the big bucks, silly. You should try being like me sometime."
"Ah, is that the only thing I should try being? Not very original of me, I must say."
His smile drops to a more sly smirk as he shrugs, sighing dramatically while casting his gaze elsewhere for a moment.
You should try to be mine, he thinks to himself.
He doesn't deserve that honor, but it's the truth and he can always count on delusion.
"Eh, who cares about originality? That's what writers use as an excuse to torture themselves. It's no fun, You might as well jump off a bridge with me instead."
You raise an eyebrow at that, your fake smile becoming a bit more genuine now.
"I think I'll pass on that, Dazai."
He pouts, and you hate that he resembles a puppy with the way his eyes comically droop.
"Such a shame. I was hoping we could share that experience together. It would be quite the work bonding exercise, don't you think?~"
You nod, your voice laced with what he hopes is a playful retort, but it is much too deadpan.
"I'm sure it would."
"You know, you're surprisingly hard to torment."
You hum once more, shrugging as you look back down at the files on your desk, unable to hold his dark eyes that seem to penetrate your very soul.
"... Well I suppose I could say the same about you."
Before you know it, you feel his warm breath against your cheek, having leaned down to your level to murmur in your ear. It's velvety and far too intimate for the middle of the workday, tempting like the devil himself.
"Like I said, we could always drown our sorrows in the river. That always helps."
You slowly turn your head to meet his gaze, a slight flush begins to burn your cheeks and you wish you hadn't turned at all. It's sick the way every once in a while he'll test your boundaries to see if you'll let him in, if you'll see past the charm and the self destructive tendencies that might just seal his fate one day.
But you need him right now! And you clearly need a bit more of a push rather than just jokes, so he makes a point to grill you until you have no choice but to run into his hypothetical arms. In that instant, he catches your phone light up, the word 'MOM' is as clear as the red that spreads through your face.
Ah, so that's it.
"Seems like you should take that."
Your eyes widen as you flicker between him and your phone. Shit.
"Maybe later. I'm not really in the headspace for a call right now... Might go out for some lunch and get some air."
"I like air. Perhaps we can get some together? You might have too much and need someone to resuscitate you."
You snort softly and immediately feel embarrassed for being so casual out of your own human weakness. Yet somehow Dazai's ridiculous jokes always manage to get you to play along and forget that very embarrassment.
"CPR involves air, Dazai. You'd kill me in the process."
He clutches his chest, letting out a dreamy breath.
"Ahhh. Romantic, don't you think? I'd follow you immediately, of course~"
You shake your head as you stand up to walk out for your much needed reprieve from the inescapable thoughts you can't shake.
"You're impossible."
He stands back to give you your space and sticks his hands into his coat pockets, beginning to follow right behind you. He taps your shoulder when your back is fully turned to him, clearing his throat as he says your name in the most sinful way.
"Ahem. You forgot your phone."
You freeze in your tracks. You want to so badly do what your mind is screaming to do, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The battle between wanting to grab that bit of normalcy you miss and wanting to avoid it like the plague is the fear of the commitment to acknowledge it. You slowly turn to face him holding out your phone for you and yet again... It stings when he looks at you like that. Like he actually cares. It makes you feel drunk on the sensation of being seen on a deeper level, the butterflies in your stomach keep saying so. You sigh, and mumble back.
"Leave it. I don't need it right now."
He steps a little closer, way too close for comfort. His voice drops to a more serious tone, yet it's nothing but gentle, firm. It's a Dazai you don't think you've ever heard except when on a mission. Even then it always felt performative. But not now. He takes your hand in his bandaged one and holds it out for a moment with your palm facing up. His desire for you to make amends with your troubles is far more important than proper customs, so he needs to do this and do it now before you drown any deeper and he loses his self control.
He can save you even if you're too stuck in your own self pity to see the brightness of your own future. How you shine like a diamond in the rough, if only you'd just let yourself live in the now. He whispers to you.
"I think she'd like to know how you're doing. Family, they're the only normalcy you can have sometimes... Especially in this line of work. I think you know that."
You gaze into his dark eyes, and for the first time are not afraid to hold eye contact as you realize you actually want to hear more. Finally, a real piece of him is being shown to you?
"... Is that something you relate to, Dazai?"
He almost winces at that, a flashback of two friends he once considered family flash into his mind. Maybe today is a Lupin day. He could imitate your angelic laughter as the whiskey burns his throat. He hides all of this with a nasty little smirk, elusive as ever as he lies through his teeth.
"Absolutely not."
You seem a bit disappointed at first, but before you can dwell on it too much, your thoughts flicker back to the phone call you realize it might be time to make. Your mood is instantly different. Hopeful, even. Dazai places your phone in your palm, slowly closing your hand into a small fist. His hand lingers on top of your knuckles for a second too long, and you realize you are, in fact, unable to keep looking him in the eye like this or else you might just collapse knowing he'd catch you. The concept alone is intoxicating.
"I'm gonna take this, okay?"
His smirk softens, almost boyish with the way he instantly relaxes and reverts back to his usual self. The mood shifts back to how it felt before, and Dazai nods in reassurance.
"You go get some air. I'll be here."
He waves you off as you flash him one last smile before exiting the office. That'll keep him going for a while, he thinks. You look so beautiful when you're full of life, he hopes it rubs off on him too. He stands there for a long time in deep thought, simply smiling at the floor. At some point your hair clip fell out without you noticing, and so he picks it up, pocketing it. He'll consider this the consummation of your relationship.
An hour passes by and you walk back into the office, eager to tell Dazai about your call back home and how refreshed you feel. That he was right, and you wanted to share this new found perspective that he helped you approach and conquer. You find the office is completely empty, and when your eyes glance at your desk, there's a sticky note left on one of the many trinkets you display on it. You read it out loud to yourself.
"You long for the past, so perhaps we can recreate it. Maybe a nice long walk by the river, or we could always try a more private solution.
Either way, I'm at your mercy.
- Osamu"
You can't help but want to kick your feet at the little heart he doodled next to his messy handwriting and make a mental note to properly give him your contact info next time. You'd make sure to take a call from him, because you know he'd make it worth your while.
He always does.
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ljaylmaoo · 6 months ago
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Only Yours
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hook x fem!reader
summary: you and hook have a relationship that everyone wishes they could experience and someone tries to break you two apart
genre: very angsty, also extremely fluffy
warnings: hook is really soft in this lol, hickeyss, arguments, there’s a kiss without consent in this, I think that’s it
a/n: hii! this is my FIRST post and one-shot that I wrote out of pure boredom lol. if there’s any typos sorry, I wrote this from 2 am to 7 am in one go lol. please let me know what you think after, AND PLEASE feel free to send requests! as I had a lot of fun writing this and would love to write more! hope you enjoy! thank you :)
word count: 3.6k
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To say you were nervous was an understatement.
At the moment, you were doing the final touches of your makeup in anticipation of Castlecoming. You weren’t very fond of wearing a dress. Sure you loved fashion, but dresses? Most certainly not. But you promised Bridget that if she got Ella to wear a dress, you would too. You also wanted to surprise your boyfriend James who would never expect you to actually wear a gown such as this one. So there you stood, admiring your figure in the gold, arched, full length mirror that sat in the corner of your dorm after brushing on some highlighter on the highest part of your cheekbones and tip of your nose. You cursed at yourself for liking the way the gown looked on you.
“Wow..”
The sudden low whisper like voice from the left of you made you jump a bit then relaxed when you recognized the comforting voice of your boyfriend which instantly washed away the nerves you previously had. You glanced over your shoulder, a radiant smile that couldn’t be hidden even if you tried crept up as you caught the sight of your breathtakingly beautiful lover carrying a bouquet of your favourite flowers in one hand and a box with a bow that held a corsage that luckily matched your dress perfectly.
He slowly made his way up to you, taking in every detail of the rare sight that lied in front of him. He gently set down the box on your vanity, “Art has no depiction that’s fitting of your description. Even the most ignorant would applaud and long for my loves radiance.”
A soft blush washed over your cheeks, “says you, my pretty boy.” You giggle taking the flowers he presented to you with a bow and placed your arms around his neck with him pulling your waist close to him. James has always been a romantic. Every compliment he gives makes Shakespeare’s poems seem dull. Everyone in the academy ached to have your kind of love. And the girls were envious of how James showed his love for you. Always showing you off every chance he gets. He was proud to call you his. He also could never keep his hands off of you, always had to be touching you someway twenty four seven.
Though you two were infatuated with love for one another, there would be the odd argument that would leave you not talking for a day or two which was usually due to his mean and sometimes cruel words that he really didn’t mean. He was still a VK after all.
“Doesn’t my darling look ravishing today?” Was something he would ask the VKs daily as he watched from afar with googoo eyes while smiling like an idiot as you were laughing and talking with your friends, not taking his eyes off you once. Even if you were in a fight and not talking that day.
“Aren’t you guys in a fight?”
“Doesn’t make her any less breathtaking and heavenly to look at.”
These days were torture for him. He tried to be tough and not show how much he was suffering without you, but it never lasted long. By the time he finally breaks he comes knocking on your door with a teddy and “I’m sorry” flowers with him apologizing profusely almost leaving him in tears begging you to take him back explaining how lonely his bed is and how he missed being tangled up with you in your bed every night having the ability to hold you close to him as you drifted off to sleep, and of course you can never stay mad at him. Especially when he’s making himself look like a fool in front of others as they passed by not caring if they judged him by how pathetic he looked, his mind only being set on getting you back.
He was also very protective and possessive of you. If anyone was mean to you or dared try to lay a hand on you flirtatiously, he wasn’t afraid to handle them himself or he would aggressively yet still carefully grab your waist, sometimes with his hook, and kiss you in front of them before smirking at them and watched with satisfaction as they rolled their eyes and walked off. He’d also sometimes give you a few hickeys, making sure that they were as visible as possible. you both wore a necklace with each other’s initials engraved and a diamond heart.
He had also gifted you a beautiful promise ring for your one year anniversary and you’ve worn it ever since.
His favourite pastime was gazing at you while you did your schoolwork or as you slept in his arms. “My heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own.” Is just one of the many examples he would say whenever you got insecure and were in denial. He always made sure you knew his devotion to you was for eternity.
You were soulmates without a doubt. Twin flames.
He kissed you passionately, hungrily placing his soft plump lips on yours. You melted into his touch, smiling at his desperation to get as physically close to you as possible in anyway he could. You tried to pull away to catch your breath but he wouldn’t let you, “James” you laughed with his lips still attached to yours, lightly pushing him away at his chest.
He finally pulled away, “yes, love?” He smiled still staring at your lips, lovingly
“I could barely breathe” you laughed again, “I’m sorry darling, I just can’t ever get enough of you.” He shamelessly admitted. You both stayed close admiring each other’s features, leaving no room in between. His hands still firm on your lower back as you stroked his hair. His hair was probably your favourite feature of his. It was soft and always the perfect length, swept back.
“I love you so much.” you whispered looking into his eyes while fixing his collar and necklaces after messing it up a bit from the kiss
“Not as much as I do you, sweetheart.”
“I don’t think so” you replied knowing you always lose the ‘I love you more’ arguments. He laughed, “oh darling, we both know that’s not possible. My love for you will remain as infinite as the stars.” He said while caressing your cheek. You placed your hand on top of his and smiled shyly. He grabbed the box off of the vanity and took the corsage out, he gently took your hand and slid it onto your wrist then kissed your hand softly. “There you are my love.” He said while looking up at you. You had your hand on your chest, “oh my goodness! Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You said while looking at it in awe. He smiled, “of course darling.” He gave you a quick kiss and lead you to the door and opened it, “after you, gorgeous.”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You and James entered the ballroom together with your arm wrapped around his and hands intertwined looking around the huge decorated room. It was everything you’d imagined it would be. Everyone dressed up in breathtakingly beautiful suits and gowns scattered around the room mingling with their friends or dancing with their loved ones as music played in the background. James watched you in adoration, the amazement in your eyes made them sparkle along with the light glistening from the chandeliers above. The two of you got some glances from your peers of course as you were named ‘Best Couple’ in the yearbook and everyone adored your relationship for the most part. Among the people who were jealous, there was one girl in particular that absolutely despised your relationship. That girl goes by the name of Aria. (if your name is Aria I’M SORRY LMAO) She hated how happy you guys were especially of how loving James was towards you and hated how much people adored your relationship.
She was also James’ ex girlfriend.
They were together for eight months and broke up just five months before you both officially started dating. During those eight dreadful months, they were extremely toxic. They would get into pointless heated arguments on a daily basis at school, some even resulting in James earning a slap to the face, but then would be seen back together by the end of the day making out by the lockers or something. You knew of James beforehand because he was part of Uliana’s crew and also because you had to pass his locker almost everyday in order to get to class and that was usually where they would have their fights. He never paid any attention to you at first, but when Uliana began tormenting Bridget, you caught his eye. He’d constantly try to flirt with you and you would often find him to be staring at you whenever you weren’t looking. One thing led to another and after four months of his many attempts to try and get to you, you finally gave in and decided to give him a chance and a month later, it was made official. You don’t know what changed in him for him to treat you the complete opposite of how he treated Aria and she hated you for it though she couldn’t do anything about it because she knew what he and the VK’s would do if she did. So she always judged from afar, only doing as much as giving you a glare everytime you made eye contact. She wanted to try and sabotage your relationship the night of Castlecoming and break the two of you up, so she came with a plan.
Aria was with her friends when one of them spoke up, “woah, they look grossly fabulous tonight..” she turned and her jaw dropped instantly when she saw the two of you on the other side of the room talking to Uliana and the rest of the group, James spinning you around to show off your gown. She boiled with rage and turned back to her friends, “yeah, we are definitely going to break them up tonight.”
As James was talking with Morgie, you spotted your friends Bridget and Ella so you lightly tapped his shoulder and leaned in to whisper making sure Uliana didn’t notice as she was currently talking with Maleficent beside you, “I’m going to go say hi to Bridget and Ella, okay?” He looked down at you and kissed gave you a quick kiss, “okay, love.” You gave one more kiss on the cheek before heading off towards your friends.
Bridget squealed with excitement as she saw you approaching them, “oh my gosh! Y/n?! You look amazing!” She came up and pulled you into a hug, squeezing tightly to express how proud she was. “I know, I know” you jokingly said after she let go while blushing a bit. You smiled and hugged Ella, “wow I didn’t actually think I’d see you in a dress, like ever.” Ella gave a small smile and laughed, “I could say the same to you.” You scoffed, “well of course I did. We wouldn’t wanna disappoint our girl here now, would we?” You said while patting Bridget on the shoulder who was bursting with excitement jumping up and down while clapping her hands, “okay we need! To take pictures, come on!” She insisted before pulling you both over to the Photo Booth.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
It was later into the night and you were dancing with James, Ella had to go home due to her strict curfew her stepmother gave her, and Bridget went back to her dorm to let you and James have some time together. Aria and her friends watched you with rage as you were gazing into each other’s eyes lovingly, waiting for the perfect moment to begin her plan. He spun you around as the song ended and kissed your hand before leading you off the dance floor, “could I get you another drink, my love?” He questioned, “yeah, sure. I’ll be over there I just have to go to the bathroom quick.” He nodded and the two of you went your separate ways.
Aria smirked at her friends as the first part of her plan had come. She slyly walked off to the fruit punch table and stood in front of it waiting for James to walk up. “Hi James.” She said suspiciously sweet, he only rolled his eyes and scoffed, “what do you want? Can you move, please?” Aria gave a fake pout, “what? All I did was say hi.” She said innocently, “oh did you want some punch? I’ll get them for you.” She turned and grabbed two cups, “two right? One for you and one for your little girlfriend?” James had his arms crossed and stood impatiently, looking away from her, “yup.” Aria giggled and poured the first one, “here’s yours” she smiled before turning to pour the other. James took a sip of the drink while he waited.
A few moments later, you finished touching up your make up after washing your hands in the bathroom and walked out towards the punch table but you stopped in your tracks. There, in front of the punch table was Aria who had forcefully pulled James into an unexpected kiss. Your heart shattered at the sight. You made eye contact with James who had a shocked and angry expression that you couldn’t see. Your eyes welled up with tears before you ran out of the ballroom. James pushed Aria off him, “get off of me! What the hell, Aria?” He scolded before shoving the punch into her hands and ran after you. She watched him run after you with a smirk taking a sip in satisfaction.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You came bursting into your room as you cried, slipping off your heels and taking the accessories out of your hair and throwing them onto the vanity followed by your earrings and necklace. You ripped the corsage off your wrist and threw it into the trash can beside you. You studied yourself in the mirror, hating yourself for deciding to wear a gown only to surprise the one you thought loved you most only for them to humiliate you and look like a fool. You went and sat down on your bed as you cried into your hands. James came into the dorm in a panic causing you to jump, “Love, I can explain!” You furrowed your eyebrows in anger while looking at him in disgust, “no! I don’t want to hear it, James!”
“No, no, no, really darling! It wasn’t what it looked-“ you got up from the bed, “Oh yeah? Cause it looked like my boyfriend was kissing his ex girlfriend by the punch table!”
“Well yes but-“
“Do you still have feelings for her, James?” You yelled as you walked closer, “were you only using me to get back at her? Did you even love me?!” He was stuttering as he tried to answer every question you threw at him, “what? No! Of course I do!” He tried but you continued to yell at him, causing him to get angry and the screaming match began. It never ever got this bad before. If the dance wasn’t still going on, everyone would for sure be able to hear every insulting and harsh words you were throwing at each other. There were hot tears streaming down your faces as you continued. But as bad as it was, and as much as you wanted to, neither of you had the willpower to officially call the relationship off. You loved each other too much to do so and you both knew that.
You took the flowers he gave you earlier off your desk and harshly shoved them into his chest, “Get out! I don’t want you here! Leave!” You pushed him out the door and slammed it in his face. You took a deep breath and turned around, and started towards your bed. You didn’t know what to think or how to feel. You knew what he was saying made sense and knew he loved you far too much to ever do something to hurt you. But you don’t know why you kept going at him.
You sat down and stared down at the floor, your mind so lost in deep thought that you didn’t even realize you had changed out of your dress and into your pyjamas. You looked down at the shirt you’d just finished putting on and sighed, it was his shirt. You shut your lamp off and lied down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling as the thoughts in your head continued to flow. Why was he with Aria in the first place for that to happen? He shouldn’t have let that happen. But after a while you felt really bad for what you had said to him and the names you called him. But was he mad at you now too? You heard something that was slid under the crack of your door, you sat up and looked at the little piece of paper that was on the floor. You turned your lamp back on and slowly walked over and picked it up. You opened the paper, “My Beautiful Darling Y/n, no matter how much we fight, the love I have for you will never fade. You will never be unloved by me for you are far too well tangled in my soul. The only feeling stronger than my love for you is the ache that comes with missing you. I’m so very sorry I let this happen, My Love.” You wiped a tear from your cheek as you finished reading. You set the note down on your nightstand and lied back down on your bed.
You tried to fall asleep but you just couldn’t. You missed the feeling of being secured and safe in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep. Your bed felt cold. Lonely.
After a few more minutes of attempting to force yourself to sleep, you got up and crept out of your room and down the stairs and proceeded down another long hallway before stopping in front of an all too familiar door. You stared at it, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea. But before you could make a decision, you were already making your way inside the dark room. You quietly walked towards the bed, softly and carefully getting under the covers making sure not to wake him. The warmth and familiarity of his body heat made you feel at ease. You looked over at his sleeping figure who was facing towards you and traced his features with your eyes, admiring everything about him and couldn’t help but smile. You really did love this boy with all your heart.
You turned away from him and sighed before closing your eyes to sleep, but just as you were drifting off, you felt an arm snake around your figure, pulling you close. You smiled and melted into his body as you felt the warmth of him engulf your backside, placing your hand on top of his that was placed above your stomach under your shirt. Well, his shirt. He pulled you closer and you felt him softly stroking your hair. Though it has only been a few hours since you’ve felt his touch, it felt like forever. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped your arms around him scrunching the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands while burying your face deep into his chest, he had managed to somehow pull you closer though it was physically impossible already.
“I’m sorry.” He heard your soft voice cry, muffled from being buried in his chest. He shook his head and stroked your head, “shh, no, no, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong, my love.” You let out a quiet sob which was terribly agonizing for him to hear. He looked down and placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your gaze up to his. You looked into his eyes with a pitiful gaze, he saw how broken you looked. The moonlight that seeped in through the window above his bed glistening off your tearful eyes. “Don’t cry, love..” he tried but you rambled on, spilling everything your heart was feeling at that moment causing the pieces of his already broken heart shatter into a million more pieces. He stared at you not knowing what to say after you were done, only pulling you into a deep kiss, more passionate than ever letting his body do the talking without saying any words, pulling your waist close to his. He left sloppy kisses down to your neck, lightly gracing the sensitive skin with his teeth making you gasp in pleasure and gently pull at his hair before he continued to leave his mark with a smile while telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.
This continued until both your neck and chest were covered with love bites. He trailed kisses back up and kissed you once more. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily while looking into your lustful, heavy lidded eyes that were threatening to shut and noticed as your breathing slowed. He pulled you back in and you cuddled back into his chest, “I love you.” You whispered, trailing off as you began to fall into a deep, well needed slumber.
“I love you too, Darling.” He whispered, leaving a delicate kiss on your forehead and rested his head on yours as you both drifted off to sleep.
156 notes · View notes
soupslice · 9 days ago
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Blue light
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(Internetcafe!joost x f!reader)
Summary: Joost makes a move on the pretty girl at the internet café.
Tags: fluff, a bit angsty maybe, teasing, mutual longing, a little suggestive in the end but nothing crazy, joost tries to act tough but is actually a softie lol
Wc: about 1,800
If you are a minor or uncomfy with rpf please dni!!
───── ⋆⋅☆📺☆⋅⋆ ─────
You swing open the door to the city’s only internet café.
Open 24/7, and a great place to hide away from the cold on a day like this. An even better place to joke around and relax after a long day of studying. The café is pretty busy today. You’re met with the chatter of the people already there, laughing and bickering as they’re playing games together, emailing each other memes. The room is dim, bathing in a warm yellowish light. Despite the old state the place is in, you find it weirdly cozy. Not like you haven’t been there before. The fans usual humming next to the water dispenser. Service posters and ‘no smoking’ signs are plastered on the walls.
The culprit is the only person who seemingly isn’t having a good time, the receptionist, Joost, smoking a cigarette behind his desk at the far back. He also happens to be the main reason you come by every week. The never-faltering scowl plastered on his face, clacking away on his keyboard. You wonder what keeps him so busy all day, except cleaning up after customers of course. Maybe he is just playing tetris all day. But you did once catch him snacking on an onion. Strange guy, really.
Despite his rather annoyed attitude, you find Joost embarrassingly attractive. Looking up at you with smudged eyeliner around his blueberry like eyes whenever you speak to him. Most other conversations he has during the day are cut short, not really feeling like talking to anyone.
You make your way through the rows of desks until you reach Joosts. Feeling a jolt in your stomach when you lay eyes on him. He doesn’t want to admit it , but he was hoping you would come by today. It’s Wednesday already, so the fact that you was not here yesterday is out of the ordinary.
It takes Joost longer than usual to respond when you start talking to him. Cigarette smoke lingering in the air around his desk. But when you mention the note on the window outside his head immediately perks up. The ‘We’re hiring!’ flyer exactly what the blond hoped you would bring up. Relieved that you’re the one asking and not any of the others who spend their time at the cafe. He removes one of his wired earphones and looks at you with faux nonchalance. “You just seem so busy all day, might be easier if we were two. I also come here like multiple times a week, so why not?” you blabber on, almost nervously. He nods at you while he puts out his cigarette on the porcelain ashtray he keeps on the counter. Spending a bunch of extra time with him at the café could be fun, you really like the place anyway.
You get a bit intimidated as his blue eyes pierce right through you, even though you saw him peeking at you when you walked through the door. He could fit an entire ocean in there if he really tried. The beauty mark beneath his lips that you love so much catches your eye, but only for a what must be half a second. You swear that you can see a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth before he finally speaks. His accent seeping through most words. “My shift ends at 8, stay for a while and we’ll discuss it then ja?”
“Why so late?” You almost chuckle. “I mean I can wait, but haven’t you been here since this morning?” you add. To which Joost just shrugs and hums an “i don’t know, I don’t really mind it,”and looks back at his screen again.
“Oookay, allergic to sunligt much,” you retort jokingly right as you turn to take a seat at a computer. He scoffs at that, a small smile on his lips. Little did you know he actually might be.
You sit down at a computer pretty far into the café. Joost to your right. Even though you come here often; his company, although quiet, could never tire you. Seeing him annoyed and busy in his usual element is also pretty funny to you. However done he may feel he is never hesitant to help anyone who needs it though. You may or may not have asked him for help when you did in fact know how to fix whatever problem the computer was having. Feeling his hand on the armrest of your chair as he leans over the desk does something to you. His arm just slightly touching your shoulder. So close that you can feel the slight hint of aftershave hidden beneath the smell of the cigarettes he smokes. His touch sends shockwaves through you. Wondering how his hands would feel wrapped around your waist. His lips nipping at your neck.
You think you’re being smooth. But Joost knows. Way more than you could possibly think he does actually. He can see your eyes widen at the small expanse of his tummy that reveals itself when he stretches. Notice the blush that creeps up your cheeks whenever he stands in front of you like a tower. It amuses him how much he’s got you wrapped around his finger. When you leave it somehow gets even harder for him to focus. His mind lingering on the smell of your perfume, your laugh echoing in his head. The way you smile at him with a glint in your eye, secretly admiring each other before looking away yet again.
After a while Joost gets curious about what you’re up to. He can no longer hear the soundtrack of your favourite video game, ‘no one lives forever’, blend in with the hum of computers and the chatter still present in the café. It’s so cute the way your brows knit while moving the mouse around the screen. Something having clearly caught your attention. His curiosity gets the better of him and he gets up without you noticing, almost like he wasn’t there at all. You are way too focused on the ms-paint window currently open on your desktop. Joost grabs a black plastic bag and routinely starts walking around to pick up trash and other stuff left behind on the desks. Some old gum (ew), soda cans and all that.
He eventually closes in on you and takes a peek at your screen, squinting since he is not wearing his glasses. His cheeks grow warm as he scans the brush strokes that covers the digital canvas. A portrait of him on the page, a camel, and… onions?? He contemplates saying something, but quickly realises that it would look a bit weird to the other customers still around. Settling for walking back to his desk instead.
When 19.30 rolls around the blond calls out to you, putting the magazine he was reading down on his desk. “I’m basically done for today, come to the back.” Joost says and waves you over to him. You reach over to the power button before you follow him inside. There’s a staff only sign on the door. A few desks and shelves upon shelves with CDs and extra hardware parts decorate the space. You notice a bag of funyuns lying around on a table. As well as Joosts ipod and some pocket money. The setting almost matches the café, you think.
“So,” he starts, leaning on one of the desks. A new cigarette hanging from between his lips.
“You want me to hire you?” He asks. You actually want him to do a lot more to you than that. But this is a good approach nonetheless.
“Yeah, It’s no secret that i like the place. And i could probably use the extra money as well,” you argue. One of your hands instinctively starts playing with your necklace.
Still leaning back, Joost takes a drag and exhales before standing up completely. Right in front of you. He is dangerously close now. Just the simple motion of him standing up makes your head spin. He is so much taller, not looking entirely at you.
After months of dancing around each other, months of yearning and pretending not to mind it, months of Joost not daring to make a move on you, he finally, FINALLY, lets himself give in. Lowering his voice a few notches before he asks; “Is that really the only reason, schatje?” with a smirk that decorates his pretty lips. He’s not hiding his gaze anymore, drinking in the sight of your red cheeks and half open jaw as the question lingers between you.
Of course it was not your only reason. His intimidating figure is making you hot all over, and he wears a face like he knows it, too. The expression completely different from the irked scowl he usually defaults to while at his desk. You have never seen him smile like this before. Confidence high on his bloodstream and it’s the most gorgeous he has ever looked.
Unbelievable. Unfathomable. It feels insane what is happening to you right now. A reoccurring fantasy that has somehow trickled into reality. The thought of his delicious weight pressed on top of you making you toss and turn in the middle of the night. Again and again. You feel stupid for being so struck, for letting him have this effect on you. His mere proximity rendering you so obviously wordless that you almost want to scurry away and hide.
When you don’t respond, you actually see his smile falter a bit, afraid he might have overstepped. Theres a sharp jab in his stomach at the thought. Maybe he just ruined exactly everything. He wonders if you can hear the heavy thud of his heart. “I don’t know Joost, should I come back next week and find out?” You respond after what feels like a lifetime. You’re finally able to grasp onto some sort of composure at your words.
“Sounds good, we are officially coworkers then!” He exclaims with a chuckle. A bit taken aback himself, but so relieved. It clears the tension a bit, but for now you don’t quite care. Having gotten the confirmation that he wants exactly the same thing as you do. Joost takes your hand in his and shakes it dramatically as you start laughing as well.
After chatting for a while longer, you both realise that it’s getting late. The manager is now the one behind the desk to take the night shift. You wave Joost goodbye outside the café door as both of you head your separate ways. So close yet so far away. If only you could have said what you wanted to, anything! Anything to pull him in by the collar and press your lips to his. Anything to wake up to his blond tousle of hair next to you every morning, see the sun coat his bare chest. It’s a thought that should feel too intimate for a guy you only see a few times a week. But it just feels so right.
You already know that you will not be able to sleep tonight.
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a/n: I have a few more things in mind for these two (obviously) so this is pt 1/2! Also this is my first published fic!! Who cheered!? Anyway thank u for reading, constructive feedback very much appreciated lol :,)
AND DONT WORRY VAMPIRE JOOST WILL MAKE AN APPEARANCE IN PART 2 TRUSTT
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