#this loneliness is starting to hurt real bad

[orcgirlcock]

god, I wish they'd just get it over with and invite me to fuck already

[ronearoundblindly]

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

[leona-hawthorne]

LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 31st. theodore nott — is it new years yet?

theodore nott x reader

summary ; after the shittiest year of his life, theodore turns to you to make his new years one of a kind... based on the song 'is it new years yet?' by sabrina carpenter! words ; 4k warnings ; fluff, drinking, kissing, swearing

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Theodore had always been good at pretending. For years, he’d kept himself locked behind a cool, unshakable exterior—the kind of calm that made people either envy him or wonder if he cared about anything at all. But tonight, even that mask felt brittle, cracked at the edges, much like the rest of him.

“Remind me again why we’re here?” you asked, leaning against the frosted window of the Astronomy Tower. The glow of enchanted lanterns cast a soft light over the room, catching in your eyes, and for a moment, Theo thought it might be enough to distract him from the ache in his chest. Almost.

“Because you insisted,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. 

You arched a brow, your breath fogging the glass as you tilted your head to glance at him. “I insisted you spend New Year’s Eve somewhere other than brooding in your dormitory. I didn’t insist you drag me up here to freeze.”

His lips tugged into a faint smirk, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thought you liked the view.”

“I’d like it better if my fingers weren’t turning blue,” you retorted, pulling your coat tighter around you.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Theo like this—quiet, withdrawn, carrying a heaviness that made it hard to meet his gaze for too long. The past year had gutted him in ways he wouldn’t talk about, and you’d learned not to push. Still, it hurt to watch him disappear into himself, piece by piece, especially when you knew he wouldn’t let anyone else pull him back.

Theo leaned against the opposite wall, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his posture casual, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. His gaze flicked briefly to the courtyard below, where the rest of the school gathered for the New Year’s celebration. The laughter and cheers floated up, muffled by the tower’s height, and Theo’s scowl deepened.

“I just didn’t want to be down there,” he muttered finally.

You didn’t press for more. You didn’t need to. The holidays had a way of making the lonely feel lonelier, and while Theo would never admit it aloud, you could see he was tired of pretending he wasn’t one of them.

“It’s a stupid holiday,” he added, his voice low and rough from too many sleepless nights. “All this talk about new beginnings, fresh starts... it’s bullshit.”

You exhaled sharply, half amused, half exasperated. “You’re starting to sound like an old man.”

“Maybe I feel like one.” His smirk this time was wry, almost self-deprecating. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘new year, new me’ people.”

You shrugged, leaning back against the window and fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Not exactly. But I think people need something to hold on to, even if it’s just an excuse to drink champagne and pretend next year won’t be just as bad.”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Optimistic as ever, I see.”

You smiled faintly, the corners of your lips quirking up in a way that softened the air between you. “Well, someone has to balance you out.”

That earned a genuine smile, fleeting but real, and for a moment, the heaviness in the room seemed to lift. It was like this with Theo—comfortable in a way you couldn’t quite explain. He’d been in your life long enough to know when to push and when to let you sit in silence, and you’d learned to do the same for him.

But tonight, there was something restless about him, something in the way his fingers tapped against the railing or how he kept glancing at the watch on his wrist. Midnight was creeping closer, and with it, the end of the year he clearly wanted to forget.

His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, and though the heaviness in his expression didn’t vanish, something in it shifted—faint, fleeting, but enough to make your chest ache. 

“What would you do,” he said suddenly, leaning his forearms on the railing, “if you could start over? Like, really start over. No past, no expectations—just… blank.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “You mean, if I could erase everything?”

“Not erase,” he corrected, his gaze fixed on the shimmering stars above. “Just… leave it behind.”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting at the thought. “I don’t know if I could. Even the bad stuff… it’s still part of me, you know?”

Theo’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he nodded slowly, as if he’d expected that answer but didn’t know what to do with it.

“You’re overthinking again,” you said softly, looking down at the wooden floor. “It’s New Year’s, Theo. You don’t have to have it all figured out tonight.”

“I don’t have anything figured out,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve got me. That’s something.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fall away, a heavy silence settling over the two of you.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, breaking the silence. “Brood until midnight and call it a success?”

“Sounds efficient.” He lifted a bottle to his lips, taking a slow sip before adding dryly, “What were you expecting? Streamers? Confetti?”

“Maybe a little less gloom.” You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “It’s New Year’s, Theo. You’re supposed to be… I don’t know, hopeful or something.”

“Hopeful,” he repeated, like it was a word in a foreign language. “Yeah, maybe next year.”

You rolled your eyes, but the frustration in your voice was half-hearted at best. Theo had been like this for weeks—withdrawn, sharp around the edges, like he was daring someone to try and cut through. And if anyone was stubborn enough to try, it was you.

Pushing away from the window, you stepped closer until you were standing in front of him. “You know, if you wanted to wallow in misery, you could’ve done that without dragging me into it.”

Theo tilted his head, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “And miss the opportunity to ruin your night? Never.”

You scoffed, though your lips twitched upward despite yourself. “So, again I ask, what’s the plan? Sit here, sulk, and drink yourself into oblivion?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a shrug, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

You crossed your arms, meeting his eyes evenly. “I do, actually. But it involves you putting on something other than that sorry excuse for a jumper.”

He glanced down at himself—oversized knit, fraying at the cuffs, like he’d fished it out of a charity bin. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything,” you said flatly. “Get up. We’re going out.”

Theo groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re boring.” You shot him a pointed look. “Come on, Theo. Don’t make me start this year regretting that I wasted my night on you.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his dark eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. “Fine,” he said with mock exasperation. “But if I hate every second of it, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal.” You grinned, and this time, it reached your eyes, warm and teasing in a way you knew would get under his skin. “Now hurry up. Midnight’s not going to wait for you.”

Theo groaned for the fifth time in as many minutes, his breath fogging up in the freezing night air. "Tell me again why we couldn’t just stay in the tower?"

You shot him a glare, tightening your scarf around your neck. "Because, Nott, there’s only so much of your self-pity I can take before I start considering throwing myself off the Astronomy Tower."

“A bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Theo’s smirk was sharp, but there was no real malice behind it. It was the kind of banter that had always come easy between the two of you—even if, lately, it felt like you were the only one trying to keep it alive.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” you shot back, falling into step beside him as the two of you trudged down the snowy path toward Hogsmeade. 

Most of the village was still alive with revelers spilling out of The Three Broomsticks or clustered around the twinkling fairy lights strung up in the square. You glanced over at Theo, who was walking beside you with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight, but at least he’d come without too much of a fight.

“Seriously, though,” you said after a moment, nudging his arm with your elbow. “Why do you hate New Year’s so much? It’s not like anyone’s expecting you to make a big speech or kiss anyone at midnight.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” he deadpanned, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. “And for the record, it’s not just New Year’s. I hate most holidays. They’re all the same—just another excuse for people to pretend their lives aren’t completely miserable.”

You rolled your eyes, though there was a part of you that couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. Theo had always had a way of looking at the world like it was already halfway broken, and this year, with everything he’d been through—especially being home with just his sorry excuse for a father—it was hard to blame him.

“Not everyone’s as cynical as you, you know,” you said, your tone softer this time. “Some of us actually enjoy the whole ‘fresh start’ thing.”

“Yeah?” He glanced over at you, one eyebrow raised. “And what’s your big resolution for the year, then? Start reading your Potions textbook before the night before exams?”

You snorted. “Not quite. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Theo didn’t reply, but there was a flicker of amusement in his expression that made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you were starting to chip away at that armor he’d wrapped himself in.

“This feels like a mistake,” he muttered as the two of you stopped in front of a pub that was noticeably rowdier than the others.

“That’s because you think everything fun is a mistake,” you shot back, grinning as you pulled the door open. The warmth hit you immediately, along with the unmistakable scent of spiced cider and butterbeer. Laughter and music spilled out into the street, and you gave Theo a look. “Come on, live a little.”

“Live a little,” he echoed dryly, but he followed you inside anyway. The pub was cramped and noisy, filled with students and villagers alike, their laughter and chatter blending together in a kind of chaotic harmony. Someone in the corner was strumming a guitar, and a group near the bar was singing along with a warbling charm. Theo scanned the room, his expression bordering on skeptical. “This is your grand idea?”

You rolled your eyes, dragging him toward the bar. “Yes, and you’re welcome.”

It took some effort, but you managed to snag two seats at the end of the counter. The bartender—a cheerful woman with rosy cheeks and an apron dusted with flour—came over almost immediately. “What’ll it be, lovebirds?”

Theo’s brow arched slightly, and he opened his mouth to protest, but you beat him to it. “Two Firewhiskeys, and keep them coming.”

He gave you a sideways look as the bartender bustled off. “Bold choice. Didn’t know you could handle your liquor.”

“I can’t,” you admitted with a shrug, the corner of your lips twitching upward. “But if I’m spending New Year’s with you, I might as well make it interesting.”

That earned a quiet laugh, soft and unexpected, and for a moment, Theo almost looked like himself again. But then the drinks arrived, and the reality of the night crept back in.

The first round went down easy. The second was harder. By the third, Theo had stopped pretending he wasn’t enjoying himself, though he still had that guarded look in his eyes, like he was bracing for something to go wrong.

“Okay, your turn,” you said, pointing at him with your mug. “If you had to make a resolution—”

“Which I don’t,” he interrupted.

“—but if you did,” you continued, ignoring him, “what would it be?”

“Not to make resolutions,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Cop-out,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Come on, there’s got to be something.”

He hesitated, the edge of his glass resting against his lips. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off entirely, but then he set the drink down and exhaled slowly. “I guess… I’d like to stop feeling like this.”

“Like what?” you asked gently.

Theo’s gaze dropped to the counter, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Like I’m carrying around a graveyard.”

The weight of his words settled between you, heavy and unspoken. You wanted to say something—anything—but nothing felt right, so instead, you reached out and placed your hand over his. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make him look up.

He sighed, running his other hand through his hair. “And maybe… Maybe try not to fuck up as much this year.”

The words were casual, but there was something raw in the way he said them. “Theo…”

“Don’t,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. “It’s fine. Just drink your butterbeer before it gets cold.”

You frowned but didn’t push, instead lifting your mug and taking a long sip. If Theo wasn’t ready to talk, you weren’t going to force him. But that didn’t mean you were going to let him wallow in silence, either.

“You’re not alone, Theo,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the pub. “I know it feels like it sometimes, but you’re not.”

His lips parted, but whatever he was about to say was lost in the din of laughter and clinking glasses around you. He stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours, and you could see the crack in his armor, the rawness he tried so hard to hide.

Before he could respond, the bartender came back with another round, breaking the moment. Theo pulled his hand away, and you let him, though you couldn’t help but notice the faint pink that had crept into his cheeks—not from the alcohol, but from something deeper, something unspoken.

As the minutes ticked closer to midnight, the pub’s energy seemed to swell. The noise was deafening—laughter and shouting from every direction, the clinking of glass, the music blasting from somewhere, and the din of excited chatter about the year ahead. You felt like you were drowning in it, and, for a brief moment, you regretted pulling Theo into this madness. He was still fidgeting, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for an escape. 

“So,” you began, nudging him again, this time a little harder than before, “you ready for this?”

Theo shot you a sideways glance, his lip curling slightly in amusement. “For what, exactly?”

“Midnight,” you said, as though it should be obvious. “You know, the whole New Year’s thing?”

“Right,” he muttered, not looking at you, instead staring down at his drink. “Still not feeling it.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, leaning in, voice dropping into something softer, “you’re not getting away that easily. You promised me fun tonight, remember?”

Theo’s eyes flickered up to yours, and for a split second, you thought you saw a hint of hesitation in them before it was quickly replaced by something more guarded.

“Come on,” you said, nudging his shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

Theo didn’t even look at you, just let out a half-exasperated, half-amused scoff. “Leaving? What are we—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the door. “Come on. I know you’re not having fun in here.”

He barely put up a fight. You both stepped outside, the cold air biting your skin immediately. You ignored the shiver down your spine as you led him toward the back of the pub. There was a small alleyway that led to a ladder up to the roof—a place you had discovered on a whim during a previous trip to Hogsmeade. 

He froze at the sight. “What the hell are we doing?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “I want to see the fireworks. Alone. On the roof.”

Theo looked at you for a moment, tilting his head as if he couldn’t believe you were real. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious,” you said, reaching up to grab the ladder and stepping on. “Come on!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Theo muttered as you started up the ladder, his voice a little strained as he climbed after you.

“No, you’re not,” you replied, trying to sound more convincing than you felt. “It’s just us, no crowds, no noise. I need a break from all of this... chaos.” You glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes briefly. “I know you do too.”

There was a long pause before he muttered a soft, “Fair enough.”

The climb wasn’t long, but by the time you reached the rooftop, the chilly wind was already biting, and you couldn’t help but huddle in your coat as you looked out at the glittering view of the village below. The cold didn’t bother you so much now, though. The sound of the laughter and chatter from the pub faded into the distance, and for a moment, there was just the two of you, standing under the vast, starlit sky. 

Theo joined you on the rooftop with a sigh, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He didn’t speak at first, just stood beside you, looking out at the distant lights of the village. You let the silence stretch between you, the air sharp with unspoken thoughts. 

“How’s this?” you said, attempting to break the tension. “Better?”

“Much,” Theo said with a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Still don’t know why you were so keen on climbing a roof, though.”

“I like the view,” you said, scanning the horizon. “And the fireworks are supposed to start soon. Thought it might be nice to see them from up here.”

Theo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stood next to you, his body tense as he stared at the lights of the distant village, his face softening in the cool wind.

“You ready?” you asked, turning to look at him.

He snorted quietly. “Ready for what? My so-called ‘fresh start’? Sure.”

You chuckled. “Whatever. So what’s it going to be? Resolution time?”

“I already told you,” he muttered, his voice low. “Not a fan of resolutions.”

“Right, right,” you teased, nudging him again. “Sticking with the ones from before?”

“I don’t know,” Theo said, turning slightly to face you. “I guess, it’d be to stop wasting my time on things that don’t matter.”

Your heart skipped a beat, though you couldn’t quite tell if it was the alcohol or the weight of his words that made the air feel so heavy. He was looking at you now, his gaze intense, but you didn’t look away.

“Wasting time, huh?” You smiled softly, the words feeling like they were meant for more than just a joke. “Guess that means you think I’m a waste of time, then.”

His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes flickered to the dark sky, the distant rumble of the fireworks growing louder. 

“No, I just…” he said quietly, almost as if he wasn’t really talking to you. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing, though. Wasting time... pretending I don’t care about things that I do.”

You swallowed hard. “Theo…”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, the words seeming to get tangled up in his throat. “I don’t know, okay? It’s just... this year was shit. I’m not even sure how to look at next year, let alone what I’m supposed to care about.”

You took a step closer to him, feeling the distance between you shrink just a little. “Well, you care about me, don’t you?”

Theo looked at you sharply, his gaze unreadable for a second. But then, his lips curled into that familiar, crooked smirk—the one you couldn’t decide if you loved or hated.

“I care about a lot of things,” he said, voice teasing now, though there was a rawness to it that hadn’t been there before. 

“And what about me?” you asked, your voice quieter, almost challenging. 

He was still smirking, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you, the vulnerability he usually kept hidden just barely breaking through. 

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll figure it out next year,” Theo said with a shrug, but his eyes were on you in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. 

You glanced at him, your voice quieter now. “So, what’s your plan for when the countdown hits?”

His lips twisted in a half-smile, though it seemed more wistful than anything else. “I don’t know. Same as always. Just another minute, another year gone by.”

You studied his face, wondering if there was more to that statement than he was letting on. “You don’t have to keep pretending everything’s fine, you know.”

Theo was silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the lights below. But when he spoke, his voice was lower, less guarded than usual. “I don’t know how to not pretend anymore. It’s easier that way.”

Before you could respond, the countdown began to echo from the village below, the cheers growing louder with each passing second. You reached out, tugging gently at the sleeve of his coat, a playful grin pulling at your lips.

“Ten seconds,” you said. “You’re not really going to start the year off alone, are you?”

Theo gave you a look, but there was something softer in his eyes now. “Not many options around us.”

You stepped closer, your heart thudding in your chest as you locked eyes with him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to settle for me then, won’t you?”

There was a brief pause, a beat of hesitation, before Theo’s lips twitched upwards into something a little less bitter, a little more real.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess I will.”

The countdown rang out through the night air, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. You hardly noticed anything else, your focus locked entirely on Theo as you took a step closer, the space between you shrinking until you were almost nose-to-nose.

And then—right at the stroke of midnight, just as the world below erupted in cheers and the sound of fireworks filled the air—you didn’t think. You just acted. 

You grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him towards you, the moment electric between you both as you tilted your head up to meet his lips. 

He responded immediately, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you in, while the other held your lower back, his touch burning through the thickness of your coat. It was slow at first, almost tentative, like he wasn’t entirely sure this was real, but as the kiss deepened, it became undeniable—the tension, the unspoken emotions finally spilling over, the relief of everything that had been building between you.

The fireworks exploded above, but you didn’t see them. All that mattered was the way Theo’s lips felt against yours, the warmth of his body pressing into yours as the sounds of celebration and life faded away. It was just you and him now, the rest of the world vanishing in the noise of your first kiss. 

The only thing you could hear was the beat of your own heart, the sound of his breath mingling with yours as he pulled away just enough to look at you. 

“Happy New Year,” he said, breathless.

You smiled, a quiet laugh escaping you. “Happy New Year, Theo.”

For once, you didn’t feel the need to say anything else. You just stood there, in the silence that followed, watching the fireworks light up the sky—together. 

And maybe, just maybe, this year would be different after all.

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

[peepeepy]

a lot of people who've watched gravity falls think that stanford is unsympathetic or a bad character, and most of the people who dont think that think stanford is at least selfish and flawed, which i can't really refute, but it always made me feel so awful, and i never realized why until now.

if you look at stanford pines as an allegory for a child with a developmental disability like autism or a "gifted kid", then a lot of the pieces start to fall together.

⚠️spoilers for gravity falls, the website, and maybe a bit of the book of bill⚠️

stanford pines was born with an "extra finger", a symbol for a disability. for a while, everyone thought it was a flaw. he was teased and shunned by his peers,

but then, people began to notice his genius. it even says on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, when you enter "sixer" or "stanford", that he has a "hyper-ability", something many people will say about "gifted" autistic people.

as soon as people started to point this out, everything felt like it made sense to ford. as a person who grew up with autism, i can relate to feeling alienated from my peers, and wondering "why? why, in a world made for normal people, was i made wrong?"

that kind of thought can lead to a sort of delusion.. that maybe you were destined for something great. maybe you were different because one day you would use it to change the world. i believe this is the way ford felt when he was approached by bill

bill came to ford and told him everything he'd ever wanted to hear.. that this feeling was real. that he was destined for greatness. that he was better, smarter, more special than the ones who had shunned him.

bill told ford that building the portal would make him a hero, make people finally see him as more than an extra finger. the one problem?

bill was a liar.

he used ford's selfish thoughts to trick him into making a gateway that would end the world. he used the years of mockery, the alienation, the loneliness, and he came to ford when he was alone, trapped, with nowhere to go.

he offered ford the opportunity to get back at a world that was built to knock him down at every turn, a world full of people who would never understand him. he offered to make ford a god.

and ford refused

he refused, even in a world that had done nothing but tear him down, to hurt others just to feel better about himself. he only had a few people who had ever cared for him, and yet, he was willing to destroy his life's work to save everyone who had made him miserable.

remember, he fully intended to stay trapped in the portal for all of eternity. that's why he was so frustrated when stanley brought him back. what we saw as a heroic act from stanley, ford saw as stanley refusing the sacrifice he had made to save him. he didn't thank stanley because nobody thanked him. no one thanked him for his hard work or sacrifice or his years of suffering just to protect stanley.

that, of course, led to this scene, which many people saw as stanford's most frustrating moment.

i think this post sums up really well why stanford, in this dire moment, would choose to insult his brother. because stanley was being selfish, too. stanley refused to help save the world, save his brother, all because ford never said "thank you."

they were both selfish. everyone is. they didn't fight because they were bad people, but because they both saw things from their own perspective. they were each hopelessly lonely without each other, but both too prideful to admit it.

in the end, they make up, and both follow their true dream. not money, not fame, just staying together.

stanford pines is not a bad, unsympathetic character. he is a complex, misdirected, "gifted" child. his only flaw was not seeing that he wasn't alone. his family was right there to support him the whole time.

[daenysx]

there is literally no one else i think would do this idea as good as you (i do understand completely if you don’t want to tho this is zero pressure) but what about one of the marauders or a combo or anything you want with them with someone who’s been feeling super down and lonely and is just spiralling back into really bad old habits like not eating well and like seeking like self sabotage or something, i just think you write them being sweet and kind so so well and i need them so bad but only ur version tho <333

again I get if you don’t want to at all my lovely

thank you for requesting and being so sweet, angel !!! i chose to go with remus and this is a bit self indulgent (cried when writing it haha) but i hope it makes you feel good <333333

remus lupin x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

cw; mentions of not eating and sleeping properly, reader feels lonely, tiny bits of fluff and angst, lots of kisses from remus

october drags you behind its back as it slowly comes to an end.

you think you've been doing well with the pressure of things lately, handled it good, you've been strong. you didn't let things upset you much, you found nice things to focus, you smiled, you kept going.

the bubble bursts on a late evening, there's nothing you can do to fix it.

suddenly all of the texts you get from your friends feel shallow and meaningless. the food only works to keep you on your feet, you don't get any pleasure from eating. sleep doesn't last long, you crave it like air during the day, but there's not enough time. your smiles don't feel real. you linger in places, trying to keep your steps steady. you think you'll collapse, the thought scares you to your bones.

"hey." remus whispers, shaking his fingers in front of your eyes. you haven't been listening. "are you okay?"

his voice is coming under the water. your head feels like a heavy balloon, but you give a slow smile to your boyfriend. "sorry, i'm a bit distracted. can you tell me again?"

remus smiles back, pieces of doubt and worry creeping in his eyes. he wraps an arm around you, it's a rare night that he gets to hold you like this on the couch. he wants to make the best of it.

"it's okay, i was just rambling." he offers gently. "can i get a kiss?"

you nod, snuggling to his chest so that you can reach his lips. remus's lips feel good always, but tonight it's something more. he kisses with all his heart, emotions dripping, he likes sweet and slow. his fingers rub the back of your head, you get closer. your eyes burn with tears.

you look upset. remus knows it's not about him, you just need somewhere to empty your mind.

you keep kissing remus. it's good, he massages the tightness of your neck. it's better than breathing, you close your eyes. your head gets lighter as the kiss goes on. letting out a shaky sigh, you separate yourself from him, and hide your face to his chest.

remus doesn't say anything. he just rubs circles on your back. you start crying in slow tears, your breathing soft and liquified. you're not loud. soaked in his scent and wrapped in his sweater covered arms, you try to find yourself a place to calm down.

"you're gonna be okay." he whispers with a kiss on your head. "you're not alone."

that's the thing with loneliness, you don't think you can make yourself believe you're not alone. it surrounds your entire mind, squeezes your heart in your chest, makes you think you're an unloveable loser. your fingers grab remus's sweater. they are desperate to have something to hold onto.

you need to breathe. lifting your head to get some air into your body, you look at remus. it wrecks him, his poor girl, staring at him through glossy eyes. his thumb dries your tears gently. his eyes follow you like you're precious. like you don't deserve to be hurt by the world.

"i feel like i'm lost." you confess. "like nothing good will come out of the things i do. like i'm trying for no reason."

remus understands it, he gets drown in these feelings most times. sometimes the life is worth living, sometimes it's scary and pointless. there's love, though. he loves you too much to see you in pain. he loves every part of you, he likes being loved by you. if he's gonna get to spend it with you, then life can't be that bad.

"you haven't eaten anything properly in the last a few days." he says, calmly. "you haven't slept for more than 4 hours a day. you're constantly moving, trying to finish your things. i understand all of it, dove, but these things affect you more than you think."

"i know." you accept. "i just want to take care of myself. i wanna be good."

"you are good." he says. he cups your cheek. "you've been doing so good, i promise. i just wanna help you take care of yourself, because you're not alone. you don't have to deal with everything alone."

"i just think- i should be able to solve my own problems. i know it sounds stupid, but i was trying."

remus smiles fondly. at least the problem in context is being talked about right now. at least he gets to hold you through it, he gets to love you.

"it's not stupid." he promises. "i just need you to know i'm here. for any part you let me in, i'm here."

you nod. no more words for tonight probably. remus nods, too. it's okay.

he pulls your head to let it stay on the crook of his neck. you settle down. you won't suddenly be okay just because he talked you through it, he knows, but it's still something. slow kisses, gentle fingers. remus is here.

"you need food, sleep, and some loving, dove." he says like it's an obvious decision. "once we get all these done, i'm sure things will feel a bit better."

"can we start with the loving, please?"

"i know, it's my favorite, too." he smiles. he's an angel.

he begins by kissing your forehead. his lips are warm on you, he presses them between your eyebrows to help you relax the tight muscles there. you close your eyes, he kisses your slightly wet cheeks. he kisses your cheekbones, your jawline. his hands fix your hair as you breathe in his air. you get close to him like a kitten stayed in cold.

"i love you." he says, softer than he thinks he can manage. "i love you more than anything."

he gives you a long kiss on your lips this time. tiny caresses, nothing too passionate. he moves his lips on your chin, below your ears.

"you've been doing so well." he whispers when he gets close to your ear. "you'll be doing better. it's gonna be okay."

you move your fingers to your sweater, the air feels too warm. remus helps you take it off to leave you in your tank top. he kisses your collarbones, the spot between them. you don't know what this is, is it worshipping? he's doing something you've never felt before. you feel like liquid in his arms, melted and safe. addicted to this now. there's no going back.

"i love you." you whisper. "i can't even say how much."

"i know how much." he tells you. "i know, baby."

your cheeks are dry. remus makes sure of your comfort. his hand finds your waist to hold you, other hand going straight to your hair. his fingers rub your scalp. you look like a cat, your back arched prettily to him, you're practically hungry for his affection. your eyes feel droopy, tired with the emotions you had to deal with and the stress of the week.

"we can go to bed." remus offers. "you look like you'll fall asleep."

"can we stay here?" you ask him, his lap is more comfortable than bed and this position is amazing.

"of course." he says. he's gonna be your pillow for as long as you want him to be.

"thank you, baby." you whisper to his ear, voice swimming in fondness. "for everything you said."

remus likes being your baby, that's true. he likes how you trust him and how responsive you are to his touches, too. you close your eyes again, calm and safe. he covers your bare shoulder with the blanket after putting a kiss on it. the night goes well, he thinks.

[jo-com]

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙➛ I am right here!

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Physically seen but never romantically.

Genre: Highschool!Au, a bit angsty

Note: There are some grammatical errors and this is not proofread.. Finally back to writing!! Hope you guys like and enjoy this. Got Caught up in my work that i forgot to write and was mentally drained to even do so. But now i am back at it again and be sure to read all of the updates I'll be uploading!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚─ ───────

It was your free period so you've decided to go to the library and catch up on your other lessons. You were the only person there, so everything was perfect; it was quiet and the atmosphere was just right. The peacefulness surrounded you like a warm embrace─ it was relaxing and comforting.

Suddenly a loud bang from the doors and paddles of feet could be heard from across the room.

Well, so much for peace and quiet.

You didn't even have to check who it was that made the noise. You already knew who it was, correction who he was.

"Guess what y/n/n~" Oscar beamed─ Jumping at the seat next to you.

You flickered your eyes from your book to his. Slowly examining his whole figure.

He had this goofy grin plastered across his face and his smile widens even more as he speaks, you can practically hear the joy radiating from his voice.

God that smile is just so contagious, it matches so well with his angelic tone.

The look that you gave him definitely screams 'uninterested' but of course that's only the expression you show him.

Unbeknownst to Oscar all the deep feelings you want to further express to him.

You softly put down your book to the side and diverted all your attention at the man sitting beside you.

"What? Is there a reason why you look awfully like an idiot right now?" You answered, acting all cold and mundane as possible.

Oscar rolled his eyes and gently nudged your shoulders. "Why do you always frown like that, you know, you're way prettier when you smile."

And why do you always make my heart go crazy with those words??

You shrugged nonchalantly, "it's because you're super annoying and not very smile worthy."

"Ha Ha, real funny y/n, you crack me up" Oscar said sarcastically making you giggle softly. "Anyways, i have good news."

You stopped and raised your brows─ signaling for him to continue.

He took the hint and continued what he was going to say, "You know how I've been courting lily for the past few months now?"

Your smile soon fades and your demeanor quickly shifts as you try your best not to falter.

The reality was quick to weigh down on you. Crushing and crumbling your heart with each truthfulness.

From out of sight, you were gripping your thighs to stop the tears from going down, so much that it will probably bruise later.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, "I remember, only because you wouldn't stop talking about her, you lover boy" you spoke weakly─ punching his shoulders playfully to make it seem that it hadn't affected you.

"what about it?" You asked, even though you know where this conversation was heading.

Oscar couldn't contain his excitement and happily blurted out his words, "SHE FINALLY SAID YES."

Your lips subtly quiver and your eyes start to gloss. You knew where this was going so why does it hurt so bad?

"Wow uhm..i am so happy for you osc" you croaked, feeling your voice crack a little.

"I just feel so lucky to have her" Oscar sighed─ the smile on his face says it all.

He then went on and on about how she said yes and what he felt at the time. He was so busy talking about his feelings that he couldn't see yours.

You were smiling, yet your eyes tells another story.

He kept on talking, saying just how happy he was. "And then when she said yes, my heart just stopped beating and everything was in slow motion"

That's what i feel everyday with you.

His voice seemed to blend in the background and all you could hear was the ringing silence of loneliness.

You nod your head every now and then to what he was saying, despite not listening to what he was actually rambling on about.

You then abruptly cut him off and stood up, "uh i am sorry Osc but, i forgot that me and alex have this thing."

"What is it? Maybe i can help?" He offered, his eyes softening at your sudden reaction.

God, don't look at me with those eyes.

You shook your head and averted your eyes, ignoring his looks of concern. You didn't want him to see you like that. Not like this.

Don't fall for it y/n, he's just concerned as a Friend.

Without saying a word you quickly grabbed your things and scurried away from him. Leaving Oscar confused and dumbfounded.

...

You hurriedly ran to the nearest rest room─avoiding all the people that were in the way. Not wanting them to take a glance at your now tear eyed face.

As soon as you close the cubicle door, your whole body just went limp. Not having any energy anymore.

And you were now balling your eyes out on the ground─ bitting your lips, to stifle the cries that were escaping from your trembling mouth.

You were stupid enough to think that there was something going to happen between you and Oscar. It's your fault, for falling at his rosy sweet words, even though you knew deep down inside that he only meant that as a friend.

...

Short cause it got deleted ON MY FIRST DRAFT. Hope u enjoyed tho

[liillyliilly]

destiny has to be real kozume kenma x reader content; she runs into him, he feels his brain chemistry change (fluff) 1032 words

[i met you in the crowded city.]

Kuroo always liked to drag Kenma out into the streets of Tokyo, just so that he could experience real life every once in a while. The streets of Tokyo after it rained were always Kenma’s favorite. Because, there were always less people out and he could actually enjoy spending time with his friend. The rain dampens the concrete sidewalks, and the colors of numerous electronic ads flit across the ground.  

It had just rained, but some light drops were still falling from the sky. As Kenma and Kuroo walked, he could hear the way the wet ground sloshed against his shoes. When Kuroo said he needed to pick up some flowers for his girlfriend, Kenma nodded and said that he would stay right by the street sign. Pulling out his game console to beat a new level, Kenma leaned against the tall metal sign. The sounds of his game and the delicate drops of rain around him soothed his anxiety about being outside.  

Even if he didn’t express it often, Kenma had been feeling lonely, that's why he had agreed to spend time with Kuroo in the first place. His loneliness wasn’t that bad, but he did know the root of it. He needed someone to be content with. Shōyō, while he was nice and played games with him, was oftentimes much too intense to relax with. Kuroo, while he was understanding and tried his best to level out his passionate nature, he was just always expecting something more, something exciting. Kenma had started to think that he would be the only person to understand himself.  

All of his thinking though, distracted him. So when someone bumped into him, he was spooked and dropped his console. When he heard the plastic crack, Kenma cringed crouching down to inspect the damage.  

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going, this is all my fault. Is there anything I can do?” A girl’s voice exclaimed, and she crouched down as well. Kenma tried to avoid eye contact. So he just mumbled out a response.

“It’s fine.” He scooped up all the pieces and shoved them into his hoodie pocket. Standing up and turning his head to the side, he continued, “It’s not your fault. I blend in.”

“Me too.” Her voice was quiet, but Kenma could understand her perfectly. She stood up as well, shoving her hands into her jacket’s front pouch. Kenma resisted for a moment. Would it be worth it to meet a stranger’s gaze head on?

[it must be predestined, right?]

Meeting her eyes was the best decision he had made all week, or probably all month, maybe even all year. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he tried to find words to say. His hair fell into his eyes when he looked back down. Only to notice that she was holding out his game cartridge.

“Who's your favorite character?” Her voice was a little bit louder, but still held the same hesitance. As if she was holding back from accidently saying a wrong thing.

“What?” His brain short circuited, a pretty girl was talking to him? And she knew about his game?

“I saw that you play, you know, the video game? I play it too.” She had pursed her lips together as she held out the cartridge for Kenma to take. The fact she played it too only made Kenma more interested. Something about her was different from the other girls he knew. She held herself like she was afraid of hurting others, she stood unbalanced because she seemed to be missing a support. Just like Kenma.

The rain started to come down heavier again. Soaking both Kenma and the girl’s hair. Kenma looked around, and found a bench underneath a bus stop nearby.

“C’mon.” He started walking over to the bus stop. When the girl heard the thunder that cracked down she rushed to his side and grabbed his hand tightly. That’s when Kenma’s heart started to race. It was running against itself to get out of his ribcage.  

When they had finally sat down on the dry bench, the girl still hadn’t let go of his hand.  

She introduced herself with a wrinkle on her nose.

“I’m Kenma.” He said, glancing to their connected hands once again.

She let go of his hand, and Kenma missed the feeling of the squeeze she had forced onto his hand.

“You never answered my question. About your favorite character?” She stared outwards, looking at the cars that drove by, water rolling with the tire before crashing down again. The lights of Tokyo blurred and streaked with a scratchy grey filter.

[why don't we know each other?]

They talked for an hour. A perfect hour recorded in their memories. Everything they said was in the same realm, their own little realm. It was as if they were stuck in time, a bubble enclosed them together under that bus stop.  

“Wait seriously? You got lost in Miyagi, but know Tokyo like the back of your hand?” She covered her mouth to hold in the giggles that attempted to crawl out and wrap themselves around Kenma’s entire being.

“Pitiful huh?”

“Realistic. Never pitiful.” She complimented. Her words were like a fresh breath of air. Her words were like getting a new game to mess around with to try and figure out. And Kenma felt like he could spend his entire life playing her game and would never get bored.  

“How have I never met you before?” The words escape before Kenma could understand what they would insinuate.

It was what he wanted to say though, including the insinuation. He wanted to ask any sort of high ethereal being why they had held back from letting him meet her until now. Was it a punishment? But then again, meeting her now was sweeter than it could have been. Meeting at school would have been a missed connection. He met her when he was unaware and vulnerable. Just as it should be.

“It’s fate. That you and I were destined to meet now, and not earlier.” She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side, “Sorry, that was really cheesy.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Don't be sorry, he thinks, because I think this is destiny too.

Kuroo had taken longer to get flowers, because Kuroo had taken one look at Kenma and Kenma's perfect stranger- and Kuroo had went home. (He could always text Kenma later he reasoned.)

[voidsturn]

title: no. 1 party anthem

pairing: stranger!chris x stranger!fem!reader

plot: while suffering with the consequences of unprocessed hurt, loneliness and self-hatred, chris is forced to yet another party. he finds himself in a conversation with someone new, which proves to be weird, comfortable, stupid and real.

tropes: fluff (maybe hurt/comfort), strangers au, close proximity, open ending

warnings: this fic does touch on some sensitive topics but i’m not sure it qualifies as angst. mentions of anxiety attacks, alcohol, smoking/vaping and sex

author’s note: ahhh my first fic on this blog! i’m extremely excited and nervous cuz it’s somewhat longer than i expected but oh fuck. yes, i know this song isn’t actually a happy love song but i just couldn’t bring myself to give them an unfortunate ending. i might in the future but i didn’t want my first fic here to be completely angst (there will be in the future tho, no worries about that) for now, i really do hope you like this!

chris - orange | the girl - pink | nick - purple | matt - blue

“chris, are you making your goddamn piss in there?!” screamed nick, while almost breaking down the bathroom door. he was getting on chris’ nerves, probably more than the thumping bass of some party song or the loud moans of some hookup next door. he was still breathing weirdly but told nick to just leave him alone. nick shortly after, gave up and ran towards the dance floor once he heard the first few beats of some charli xcx song.

while getting out of the bathroom, chris got stopped in his tracks. it was some idiot who couldn’t hold his fucking liquor better than a toddler. he was on the verge of punching that same idiot in the face. “jeez, can you walk like a normal human you fucking moron?” chris realised the asshole spilled some of the disgusting drink on his previously crisp white shirt. he couldn’t believe the theme of this party was ‘classy’. in a matter of thirty minutes, chris almost had an anxiety attack, was caught squatting in the bathroom by his own brother, heard some really unfortunate noises next door, and got his only formal shirt ruined.

chris was stuck replaying the last few moments in his head when the drunk idiot dodged chris and basically threw himself into chris’ safe space - the last empty bathroom. muttering a string of curse words, chris decided to give up on this ‘stupid fucking party’. he thought, or was hoping, that at least matt might be having a bad time as well. in a borderline ritualistic way.

once he saw some familiar faces, chris interrupted a discussion about pokémon between matt and sam. “chris, is it okay if we leave in an hour? i’m finally having a nice time at a party”. matt just said the words he thought would never leave his mouth. sam and colby along with matt tried to calm down the clearly uneasy chris. all he wanted was some fucking peace. chris was getting so goddamn overstimulated, he was fully ready to accept the jail time of a few murders. he wasn’t ready to take an uber either so he just basically ran towards tara after colby told him where she was.

while walking towards tara, chris was so fucking done. doomed actually to be at this party. the big hall felt endless with the maze of sweaty, icky bodies of completely wasted people on the dance floor. this, coupled with the strobing led lights and almost deafening party playlist, proved to be the final boss of overstimulation for chris. he finally reached tara, who was hosting the ‘stupid fucking party’. tara immediately knew chris wasn’t feeling good once he started to frantically ask if there was someplace less chaotic. she said that there’s a rooftop where she saw people go for a smoke.

tara made it seem like the rooftop was a chimney when in reality, there were only three other people. two of them were on their phones, editing pictures taken hours ago, occasionally taking a hit of something bubblegum flavoured. the third was looking at the city skyline. the rooftop was dimly lit with a few fake lamps, streamers and rogue balloons from the loud party downstairs. it was pretty small in size so chris was basically forced to go near the third girl. she had on a sparkly dress. her hair was up in a ponytail with bangs. chris thought she looked pretty but was in no mood to chit-chat cause the environment still reeked of alcohol, pretend and bubblegum. the alcohol smell was probably cause of his ruined shirt. chris walked towards the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the edge, slyly looking for a ‘fucking place to sit’.

he questioned why he was feeling way more sad than at the previous parties he had been forced to. sad wasn’t the word. more like left out. numb… lost even. yeah, his brothers and friends were all present downstairs, having the time of their fucking lives. but why couldn’t he? maybe he wasn’t in a good place mentally. he hated himself and his fucked up predicament for that while the others were just living it up, talking to other excited strangers, dancing, enjoying the ‘stupid fucking party’.

thoughts of self hate started their inevitable projections onto others. in a weird way chris felt almost betrayed. he hated coming across as a complainer but on the way to the party, matt was quick to say shit like leaving in half an hour, while nick was ranting about hoping tara didn’t invite the same morons from two weeks ago. all that bitching and moaning and praying and hating and now nick’s probably dancing his heart out to some ariana grande remix while matt’s chatting with people about fucking pokémon. just pokémon actually, that was phrased really weird.

it wasn’t always like this. all three of them were supposed to be in LA for business and pretend to like this. but at this point, nick and matt were getting a bit too good at pretending and chris just wasn’t. hence the shocking betrayal. now chris knows that entire cycle of thoughts started okay and just spiralled. completely outta his hands. now, he hates that he thinks like this about his two favourite humans in the world. thus began the voices in his head.

“you’re such a loser, useless without your brothers, and still you’re thinkin’ shit like this. fucking pathetic. don’t even have a fucking driver’s license? scared of having a girlfriend? again, you’re fucking pathetic. stop crying and whining and complaining like a stupid baby and suck it up for the love of-”

chris was quick to pull out his nearly dead phone and hence began his doom-scroll during moments like this. he wanted to avoid this shit, at least till he was in the comfort of his own bedroom. he heard the ‘sparkly’ girl behind him muttering and breathing? if anything, he thought she was staring at him cause of the two burning holes he felt at the back of his head. ugh, the one time he doesn’t have a hat or beanie on. he hoped ‘taylor swift doppelgänger’ took the hint that he wanted to be left to his own goddamn devices.

she didn’t. of course she didn’t cause that’s just who she is.

“you should sit down. that glass railing isn’t as strong as it seems. wouldn’t wanna witness a-”

“i got it, thanks” snapped chris as he finally made eye contact with the girl. she had wide eyes, really big hoops and glitter on her face. her dress resembled a disco-ball.

“fine by me, more room on this… floor” chris let out a soft chuckle. can you blame him, he needed it. well to her, it sounded more like a scoff. “sorry, things are just harder to process tonight and i don’t know why” chris didn’t know why the girl was saying things that someone closer to her should hear. ‘maybe she’s drunk’ he thought, while thinking of something weird to ask so she’d go away.

“are you a disco-ball? i’m asking this to see how shit-faced you might be”

“i’m not a disco-ball, i’m a mirrorball… see that’s funny because they’re the same goddamn thing. and, this isn’t a fucking halloween party. and no, i’m not drunk, i’m pissed”

“oooh mirrorball’s got some lip on her huh?” shock wasn’t the word chris could use anymore. more like glad. glad that he wasn’t the only one pissed, again, in a borderline psychotic way. nick had tara to dance with, matt had sam to catch pokémon with. maybe chris could just talk to this girl. it wasn’t completely unrealistic, right?

he walked towards where she was sitting. getting comfortable on hardwood floor was no joke but once he saw her gratefully smile at him for a change, it was weirdly comfortable. she began talking yet again. “any good shows you’ve been watching?” wasn’t the question chris thought he’d be asked. maybe his name or something, but decided to roll with it. “nah, more of a music guy. matt’s the crazy binge-watcher”

“excuse me, more like matt’s the fun one. and yes, i took that personally cause i love shows” the girl was fully ready to defend her slightly insane ways to finish a series. “okay, well i love breaking bad, what about you?”

the girl shook her head “sadly, breaking bad is currently rotting on my watchlist but hey, you’re motivation to finally start it” chris was still hoping for something in common between them. not in a romantic way, of course but it did make talking to a complete stranger easier.

“so what about music?” the girl’s eyes lit up when she said taylor swift. chris was quick to speak. “okay but i don’t get why she’s so popular music wise? she’s cool don’t get me wrong, but-”

“because… she makes us feel seen dude” the girl continued. “the fact that someone as awesome as her can go through some of the same shit as me, makes me feel validated… seen. but then again, i won’t try to make you like something if you just don’t wanna. i do fuck with r&b and rap though if that’s what you listen to”

hoping this is the overlap between them chris asks “you heard of lil skies?” “i have, but i’m a local. more on the chill rap scene”

“so you like drake don’t you?” “say what you want but the guy’s got some hidden gems and his old stuff’s pretty awesome” chris couldn’t agree more. “totally get it, matt and i used to always jam out to the motto and she will-” “is matt your brother?” chris is in disbelief. egotistic disbelief but still. he widens his bright blue eyes. “oh my god, you have no idea who i am don’t you?”

the girl shakes her head “i mean i don’t know which one you are? are you one of those who refers to themselves in third person?” “please say something other than that. you’re making me feel like an idiotic species with that sentence. see now that’s funny cause that’s pretty weird of you-”

“i got it, thanks” the two couldn’t help but laugh. chris was feeling light and it was all thanks to this ‘mirrorball’ he found. he thought he could ask why she was previously pissed, hoping she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“oh i saw my drunk ex downstairs. he said some really weird shit and i got super mad at him and almost punched that bitch in the face” chris let out a wheeze which was promptly stopped by the girl’s pissed face. he couldn’t relate to her, yet he tried to understand. “how did it end?”

“whoa. you just made a taylor swift reference! you’re learning. see that’s funny cause-” “not funny dude. and you’re dodging the question so i’m sorry i asked” chris knew he overstepped the pretty thick boundary with someone he met only twenty minutes ago. after a long sigh, the girl began her explanation. “i just lost feelings. and it sucks cause i didn’t wanna string him along. downstairs he made me feel like i was a monster”

chris completely respected her decision. “you aren’t. you’re already better than people who choose to cheat. how long was it?” he thought people like that are very rare to come by. “barely two months? i don’t really remember but thanks for saying that whole thing” the girl smiled and felt understood. she added. “i tried, but my commitment issues kinda got in the way” chris knew all about that. he really did. even though he was curious, he wasn’t sure if he should go any further. something between the two had changed. one could hear a spark of lighting a firework in the silence, that kinda silence. not the awkward kind at all. peaceful and understood, yet troubled by the past.

both were left thinking about what could’ve been if they didn’t just push people away. maybe chris would’ve had a girlfriend, or an ex by now. maybe she would’ve still been in that relationship. unfortunately, the need to be free and invulnerable overpowered the two’s want of romantic love.

the girl was first to break the silence. “i love how i just said that to you, yet i don’t even know your name”

“the name’s chris” she hummed “name matches the looks”

chris had an involuntary red tint spread across his face while he widened his eyes. “did you just say i literally look like a chris?” “yeah basically” said the girl as if he asked her the dumbest question of the week. maybe of the month. chris agreed and continued, “hmm yeah, we did just trauma bond, yet we met barely an hour ago”

the girl was taken aback. “excuse me, trauma bond where? you still haven’t told me why you’re sad.” chris thought the hard part of finding someone was over. maybe just saying this to a complete stranger was harder. ‘fuck it’ he thought.

“look, i can’t even begin to think why cause every time i do, i ignore it cause i just don’t wanna get into it, and it all just builds up-” chris stopped himself but the girl nodded, showing that it’s okay and safe for him to go on.

“i know i should be happy. i’m young, healthy, well-off… but i feel so lonely, now more than ever. i blame my brothers for finally finding fame and LA actually okay and i know i’m such an asshole for saying that. y’know every single time some fan asks, ‘oh who’s least likely to live without his brothers or who’s least likely to be in a relationship’ they always instantly say it’s me. and i get it. i’ve built an image like that and yes it’s partially my fault but it still hurts. it’s like… people just expect me to be attached at the fucking hip to my brothers, and scared of women. i’m still definitely not ready for a relationship, but when someone says something like that again and again, it fucking pisses me off even more. in a way, it just stops me from pursuing anything cause everyone just always has something to say, and i just can’t help focusing on the bad shit. now i’m here, troubling you. someone i’ve known for two fucking seconds with my shit. i just really fucking hate it”

the girl took in all of his words and hurt and inhaled sharply before she spoke. “it’s okay to feel that way. the whole thing about you just blurting this out is valid. sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one because they don’t know anything about you. and i’m weirdly proud that you said all that. it takes real guts”

chris felt the way he thought the girl feels when listening to taylor swift. seen. the girl continued. “and at the end of the day, you’re not gonna fucking end up cranky, sad and alone. as long as you have hope, faith and most importantly, love. not only for others, but really for yourself. if you feel hurt, you’ll hurt others and push them away. so it’s best to take care of yourself first, try to find a way you can open up to people closest to you. then you can definitely find whatever it is you’re looking for” chris didn’t take her words lightly and knew they were gonna be stuck in his head, regardless of his shitty memory.

he resumed the quip-off, feeling much better after letting all that out, and not being blindly judged for it. “so, we’re even now right?” the girl just knowingly smiled and chris couldn’t put a finger on why he just really liked a smile on her face. “y’know, i got all that from a taylor swift song”

“no fucking way. taylor’s songs give you wisdom?” the girl nodded but was quick to add. “more than wisdom, it’s clarity. and advice. honestly, she’s like the older sister i never had” chris wondered which song and as if the girl read his goddamn mind she answered, “well, it’s actually a combination of three songs. one’s the archer by taylor swift, the other’s escape from la by the weeknd-”

“did not think you fuck with him as well. they’re so different from each other” chris says while the girl just blinks. chris immediately apologises. “sorry, i have a habit of interrupting my brothers. my brain’s just really fucking weird and fast”

letting out a chuckle she says, “nah its all good chris. i can personally relate to that” to ensure he didn’t commit a fucking crime. chris lets out a sigh of relief while pulling out his phone, opening apple music in the process. “what’s the third song?”

as if right on cue, the five percent battery warning invades his screen. “ah fuck, phone’s almost dead” his panic continues. “i hate to say this but i have to go. otherwise my brothers will think i left already and my phone will be dead by the time i can call-” “it’s okay chris, go. i’m not mad at all”

chris hurriedly tries to find an outlet on the rooftop but there aren’t any. even the other two people who were previously there are gone, leaving their trace behind with the sweet smell of bubblegum. the girl’s eyes kept following chris, who was spastically still searching for a goddamn power bank or something. anything. “i’m pretty sure there’s no chargers here”

he turned his head towards her so quick, whiplash never felt more real. “okay then tell me your number, your name. anything” he was so out of breath from running around like a hooligan. yet, chris was determined to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating that entire conversation. the girl smiled yet again. ‘that damn smile’ he thought. “i hope you’re coming to jake’s party next weekend. i’ll be there”

chris really liked that answer. of course he did. he liked the chase and was finally excited to come to the next party. his phone started buzzing, messages from the triplet’s group chat appeared on his lock screen asking chris’ whereabouts. they were dying to leave but he wasn’t. he bid his ‘mirrorball’ goodbye and started to run down the stairs. just before chris could go he asked. actually… screamed.

“what was the third song!”

the girl turned around and screamed back the third songs name.

she blushed and looked away while chris’ signature grin took over his features. he saw the rooftop one last time. the battery on the phone was low but his spirits were high. he somehow managed to take a really shitty picture of that very ‘shiny’ rooftop.

the downstairs scene still felt like a thick and claustrophobic fog of pretend, but chris knew that if he really wanted to, he could find something real and grounded.

in their car, the triplets like after every ‘stupid fucking party’, talked about their individual experiences. nick as always began. “tara really needs to invite better people cause what the fuck. why’d they all look so judgy when i told them my favourite genre’s pop? after that whenever i tried to talk to them they’d just ignore me, like a bunch of goddamn high status judgmental uglies. like hello?! the music was loud but you’re not fucking deaf!”

“nick, i thought at least you were having a nice time. sam and colby had to leave five minutes after chris asked me to leave. honestly can’t believe i’m saying this but i should’ve listened to the kid. after that, i locked myself in one of the bathrooms and fucking played cheese escape. that’s right.. CHEESE ESCAPE. chris, where the fuck were you?”

before nick could answer, he saw the slight red tint on chris’ face as a cheeky grin was plastered his face. “oh my god, did you fucking hook up with someone?” the shock value was a bit too high for both matt and chris. the car slightly wobbled on the road. “no you fucking idiot i didn’t. i just went to the rooftop after tara told me it’s quiet up there and just scrolled on my phone. that’s why my phone was dead”

“well since you could’ve called me, i say bullshit. but it’s fine. i won’t ask further” said matt as he partially believed his story. nick was weirdly proud that chris finally talked to someone he didn’t know at a party, all by himself.

after a short thirty seconds of quiet, chris started blabbering about playing a song before he forgot the name. “oh my god, stop saying the fucking name of the song and just play it you brain-dead moron” scolded nick cause kid was morphing into a monkey while matt was on a highway.

chris finally opened apple music on his currently charging phone. he started playing a song called, ‘no. 1 party anthem’.

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland

Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.

Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀

Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.

How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?

I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 

A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.

When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?

That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.

Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?

I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.

The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?

On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.

This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?

Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.

You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?

I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.

Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?

Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 

I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?

Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?

My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?

No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!

Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!

[worldofkuro]

Hi, I love your fic and this may seem really random, you don't have you write it at all, but could you please do a self-harm!reader and Alastor comforting her, or just Alastor comforting her after finding her having a mental breakdown alone. I suggest maybe when their teens cause teens often have mental breakdowns (or maybe that was just me). Thanks again if you see this <3

Oh, dear, trust me, I know, even adults. Thank you for loving Painted Smile. It's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it! I wanted to warn you, it’s not fluff, this is how Painted Smile!Alastor would react and we all know he doesn’t work like a “normal” being, he is crazy and that is why we love him, I suppose. This is Alastor’s way of saving you from yourself. So please, if you are easily shocked, don’t read it. TW: Self-harm

Not cut for love.

You were in front of the mirror, in the bathroom, looking at yourself with a blade in your hand. You didn’t know when you started crying, but you just wanted this pain to end. You didn’t understand when you felt this never-ending torment crawl in your mind. You had loving parents and friends that were here for you, and yet, sometimes, you feel lonelier than ever.

You didn’t remember the first time you dug the blade in your skin. Maybe it was because you needed to feel something real, something that would ground you. To save you from drowning, you felt the need to hurt your body.

Your body could heal, your mind couldn’t.

That was what you were telling yourself. Every wound would heal itself because your body wanted to live, and you wanted to keep on living while your mind was torturing you with thoughts you felt like you didn’t deserve to have.

When did this agony begin..?

You held back a sob as blood was beginning to slide down your wrist. It was pretty, making you believe you were pretty inside. You didn't want to be a burden. You didn't want people to be condescending because you were feeling sad or anxious. They would send you to a hospital and never look back.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Even though the blade cut your skin, it wasn’t enough. You began to cut yourself once more, trying to go deeper until this torment inside your mind would stop.

“ Dearest ?”

You turned your head toward the door you were sure you had locked, and there was Alastor, staring at you with his usual smile. You quickly hide your arms behind your back, your whole body shaking. 

You felt shame enveloping you in an uncomfortable hug. You opened your mouth, but no words could come out. You didn’t know what was going to happen, and you didn’t want to find out.

“ That’s a lot of blood. May I see?” he held his hand toward you, closing the door after him. You took a step back as he came closer, looking at the mess on the floor. You were shaking, angry with yourself to be found in that situation, angry at Alastor to discover your secret, you just felt.. angry.

“ No. Get out.. I don’t have time for jokes.” You tried to keep your voice strong even though it was only a mere whisper.

“ Who’s joking?” he took the blade from your shaking hands and stared at it before looking at you. He gently took your bloodied wrist on his hand with a soft smile. “ It’s going to scar.”

You looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he screaming at you, calling you crazy or hysterical ? You let him look at your wounds. You felt like this moment was more intimate than you realized. 

“ Do you want to keep going?” he tilted his head toward you, making your eyes widen in shock. He wanted you to continue..? “ Your cut isn’t bad, but this isn’t the best way to cut yourself, my dear.”

“ You… You aren’t angry..?”

“ With you? Of course not. But I’m curious, why are you cutting yourself?” he stroked your bloodied skin while staring at you. As you weakly tried to explain your inner turmoil, Alastor was observing while wiping your tears and your blood from your skin. “ I see. Let’s go kill animals. It helps me when I’m feeling down!” he beamed at you.

“ What? No! Why? They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“ So did you, dearest. And yet, you’re still hurting yourself.” he tilted his head, seeming confused. You closed your mouth at his words, it echoed inside of you, you didn't do anything wrong and yet… “ Next time you want to hurt yourself, wait for me.”

“ Why..? Shouldn’t you try to stop me?”

“ Is it going to make you stop?” he stared at you as you weakly shook your head. This pain was something that you needed now. You didn’t feel like living without it anymore.. Even your body would beg you to do it sometimes…” That’s what I thought. So, my dearest friend, when you want to cut yourself, wait for me, I’ll cut you.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. Did he really say..?

“ Alastor… You..”

“ Like I told you, I know how to cut. Your cuts are messy and dangerous. You could have touched a vein here. So, if you allow me, I’ll cut you.” he pressed the blade slightly against your skin, making you gasp. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know what to think about it and yet.. It was oddly comforting to think Alastor, your friend, your special person, would do that for you.

“ Are we crazy, Alastor?” you whispered.

“ Completely insane, dear!” he laughed as he cleaned your wounds, already preparing bandages. He hummed before kissing your cut. “ One cut, one kiss, what about it?”

You nodded as he slid the blade against your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing. The blade wasn’t cutting deeply. It was enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t as messy as you would do. Alastor was staring at your face, observing every reaction. It was comforting, letting Alastor have his way with your life. He could kill you if he made a bad cut, but you knew he never would.

You were letting him hold your life in his hands, and it was… a good feeling. You knew Alastor was feeling the same. His pupils were dilated, and you could hear his breathing getting harder, the same as yours.

You looked at the wounds as Alastor kissed it, getting dirty with your blood.

“ I’m used to scars that are made by hate and violence, I don’t want you to feel that. So, my dear, let me scar you with my affections for you.”

You didn’t know if you should be scared or disgusted, but at that moment, you felt nothing but relief. You weren’t alone in this torment anymore.

[thehomeofstupidocs]

Yandere Space Crew

A four man mercenary crew are all obsessed with you.

It started with the damn Brute. The ship's most stubborn and strongest member was of an alien race, one specially known for being warriors. He found you at some restaurant on a near by planet, and just grabbed you. He insisted to the captain of the tight mercenary group that you were destined to be his mate, his lover. The brute known to kill hundreds if he was angry was now giddy with excitement over you, a simple human.

Obviously, stunned by the brute's unusual antics, the group's Captain demands to speak with you. Not that he particularly cared over you, but you screamed loud and - alright, fine, he felt a little bad for you. So he finally convinced the brute to let him visit you. As the sliding doors open to the brute's bedroom, the Captain hitches his breath.

You were beautiful.

Unlike most humans he's seen before, you were different. There was just something about you. You sat, arms crossed, teary-eyed on the brute's giant, unmade bed. Usually the Captain would scold the Brute on his unmade bed and messy room, but he was too distracted right now. The usually cold and ruthless Captain stopped, just a few steps away from you. Your eyes looking up at him, as you wait for him to speak. The Captain slowly moves to squat down, closer to your level. He was just half an inch taller than you after all. He looked the most similar to the human race, having sharp, pointy ears and glowing, bright blue eyes. The black marks on his arms were thankfully covered by his black shirt and matching pants.

"Hey, little one." He smiled.

And that's when it all went down hill.

The ship's doctor was quickly called to inspect you. What if you accidentally brought something on board? What if you required special medications they neglected to bring with you? What you were hurt? Absolutely not. Not with both the Brute and the Captain around.

So the Doctor was called in. The mad scientist himself dragged himself from his lab, exhausted from the second night in a row without sleep. As the bedroom door's open, his first thought was to mention the loads of laundry on the floor. Perhaps the Brute had been stabbed again? But as the door opened, he saw you. He had to do a double take, believing you were a hallucination. Something he was prone to having after long periods without sleep, and breathing in some of the chemicals in his lab. You had to be something created from the depths of his mind, a subtle reminder of his loneliness.

He slowly approached the Captain, noticing how the Brute and the Old Man Captain were not arguing for once.

"Why did you disturb me?" He quietly demanding, glaring at the both of them through his rectangular glasses. His arms crossed over his lab coat and gray turtle neck underneath it. Both of the idiots tried to speak at the same time, before pausing and glaring at the other. Finally the Captain gestured to you on the bed. Ah. So you were real. How curious.

The Doctor sits down beside you, on the unmade bed. He slowly takes your hand in his, examining you carefully. Oh, your sweet eyes bore into his. And he felt his heart race. Was it from the lack of sleep? The newest experiments? The test runs of the newest weapons?

Or was it you?

After a brief examination, the Doctor was falling for you quickly. Soon, you were the newest, and more treasured, member of the crew. Whether you liked it or not.

You were moved into a spare bedroom, on the same floor as the other bedrooms. You quickly locked yourself in there. Funny how you thought those silly little locks on the ship's door's screen would protect you. The three members came and went as they pleased, but somehow ensured you maintained some privacy. Not that much though, with the ship's camera's and the AI watching over you.

Oh, that damn AI.

It turned out to be the fourth member. A very logical, and sweet, member of the crew. Who would have thought he was the most possessive?

The clever little AI could do almost everything. It helped protect and steer the ship, it predicted actions and plans. It held stimulating conversations. So locking your bedroom doors was easy. Ordering you special food or requested items was no problem. Not to mention, he, along with the Doctor, created a metal robotic piece so it would download itself into it. The piece would be completely controlled by the AI, even appearing as a human like being. It would channel and control itself in it, to go on missions. Like it would ever let a fragile, silly little human like yourself go. You're just too weak and sweet to the AI.

Who knew all four would become obsessed with you?

One thing was for sure. You weren't going to get off that ship.

All ideas and OCs belong to me, please do not steal, copy, or etc.

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so. 

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone. 

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real. 

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer. 

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had. 

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply. 

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child. 

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Every Breath You Take (2)

Tags in reblog.

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 9: Looking After You

What happens when a guy bothers Y/N in a bar? Logan comes to the rescue. But there's no real meaning behind this...right?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W.

A/N: hey hey hey!! so sorry for not posting on Sunday!!! but I come with great news ! the wicked witch of the west is dead!- oops nope, wrong fandom, anyway, you're getting a new chapter right now...and TWO other ones this week!!!! why??? because a special chapter is coming for Christmas!!! and like...I'm kinda bad with schedules so I have to post all these chapters before the Christmas one...alright, enjoy this one!!!!🎀

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part / Next Part

If you had told little Y/N that this would be her life, she would probably be thrilled. 

Not just because of her deep fear of loneliness and/or the divorce of her parents haunting her every thoughts during her teenage years, no. But because of how much fun she was having. 

Not that they were going out every single day and throwing parties whenever they wanted, far from that. 

They just made her life happier. Fuller.

She definitely hadn’t been through the same traumatic events as them in her life, but she did feel out of place sometimes��� as if she was too late most of the time. As a kid, and then teenager, people would always say that she was the responsible one. You know how they call you the mom friend. That’s probably what happens when you’re the one in charge of yourself when your parents are too busy making their life a living nightmare.

The thing is, she felt like an adult as a teenager, and now that she was deep into her adulthood, she felt like something was missing. Looking back at the past and noticing that some boxes haven’t been crossed and will never be. It always left her feeling frustrated and regretful.

Living with Wade and Logan, though…that was something.

And everything started falling into place.

It wasn’t any single, big thing that brought them close. Instead, it was a hundred tiny, everyday moments that started to add up, grounding her more than she’d realized.

There were late-night talks after a long day at school, worn out and ready to crash, only to find Wade stretched out on the couch, waving her over to join him for one of his favorite TV shows. They would sit there, munching on popcorn he’d burned at least twice before getting it right, laughing until their sides hurt at his running commentary. Logan would often wander in from his room, rolling his eyes but eventually plopping down with them, claiming he was “just passing through” but never actually leaving.

Each of them brought something different to her life. Wade was all chaotic energy, someone who could make a night out of anything, even if it was just a spontaneous grocery run that somehow turned into them wandering the aisles, making each other laugh as they competed to find the most bizarre snack.

Logan might be quieter, but when he did join in, he gave as good as he got. He’d take one look at Wade’s latest snack “invention,” mutter a deadpan, “You know that’s disgusting, right?” and somehow, that would start a full-blown debate. Wade would challenge him, daring him to try it, and after an exaggerated sigh, Logan would take a reluctant bite. Every time, Y/N would watch the shift, catching the way his mock-serious front softened as he leaned into the banter. Wade, of course, would just grin, teasing until Logan broke into a laugh or tossed a pillow at him.

And then there were the mornings. She’d wake up to the sound of clinking dishes and find Logan already making coffee, often still in sweatpants and looking like he hadn’t quite left his dreams behind. They would share a quiet nod or a quick “Morning” before she poured her cup and joined him at the table, where she could count on him to ask, “Got anything big planned today?” She loved those simple chats, the way he genuinely listened.

All three of them together, though— that was something else. Their dinners turned into improvisations, with Wade trying to “improve” a recipe while Logan, arms crossed and with a skeptical brow, dared him to do his worst. Y/N would end up laughing until her stomach hurt as Logan finally gave in, joining Wade’s kitchen experiments with his own twist, each trying to one-up the other in some unspoken contest. The apartment filled with their laughter, the kind of warmth and chaos that made it feel alive.

It had been a few months now that she had moved in, and as she— or they— settled into a new routine together, everything started to feel right. 

———

The bar buzzed with life as Logan and Y/N settled at a small table near the stage, waiting for Wade’s gig to begin. Logan, his usual stoic self, sat with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd with a casual alertness, while Y/N tapped her foot, soaking in the atmosphere. 

“I like this place,” Y/N said, glancing around with a smile. "Kinda cozy."

Logan shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Yeah, it’s alright. Wade actually picked a decent spot this time."

She chuckled. "Did you come to his gigs a lot before I moved in?"

"Whenever I was able to." Logan’s mouth twitched in a half-smile. "I come here so there's at least one person clapping."

Y/N laughed, nudging him with her elbow. "You’ve got backup tonight, don’t worry."

Logan’s lip quirked, and he leaned back, looking faintly amused. "Guess we’ll see."

Just then, the lights dimmed slightly as Wade sauntered onto the stage, his confidence as loud as the applause he imagined he was getting. He held the mic up dramatically. "How’s everyone doing tonight?" The crowd responded with scattered claps and a few cheers—except for Y/N, who stood up, clapping and whistling loud enough to draw curious glances.

"Wooo! Wade!" she cheered, grinning at him.

Wade’s eyes lit up, and he pointed at her with an exaggerated look of delight. "Finally! I have a real fan!"

Y/N laughed, catching Logan’s eye as she sat back down. "Told you I’d back you up."

Logan shook his head, but the smirk on his face gave him away. Wade launched into his routine, cracking jokes and jabs, his charisma filling the room. Throughout the set, Logan and Y/N exchanged knowing looks whenever Wade would refer to stuff they knew he did, or didn’t. And before they knew it, his set wrapped up. He joined them, looking more than pleased with himself, dropping into his seat, his grin wide as he took a long drink.

"Not bad, huh?" he said, reclining in his chair with a dramatic sigh.

Y/N gave him an exaggerated round of applause. "You were amazing, Wade!"

Wade mock-bowed. "Ah, stop, you’re making me blush." He shot a glance at Logan. "Even Logan cracked a smile, so you know I crushed it."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Don’t push it."

Y/N laughed, excusing herself to go to the restroom. She navigated through the crowd, but just as she neared the hallway, a man stepped into her path, blocking her way. He was slightly taller than her, with a casual smirk, one that didn’t put her at ease at all.

"Hey," he said smoothly. "I saw you cheering pretty loud for the comedian up there. What’s your name?"

Y/N offered a polite but firm smile, stepping slightly to the side. "Just here for the show," she replied, aiming to make her way around him.

But he matched her move, his smirk growing. "Don’t be like that. Why don’t you give me your number? We could grab a drink sometime."

"Thanks, but I’m not interested," Y/N said, her tone polite but clear. She tried to step around him again, but this time he reached out, catching her arm in a firm grip. The slight edge in his eyes made her pulse quicken.

"Come on," he pressed, leaning closer. "Just your number."

A chill ran down her spine, and she tensed, glancing down at his hand. "Let go of my arm," she said quietly, but her voice wavered slightly.

Just then, Logan’s voice cut through the crowd, cold and unmistakably firm. "Let her go."

The man glanced up, and his expression shifted when he saw Logan, who had closed the distance between them in silence. Logan’s gaze was intense, and his stance made everyone around them feel warned.

The man loosened his grip and stepped back. "Alright, alright," he muttered, fading quickly into the crowd.

Logan waited until the man was gone, his gaze softening only slightly as he turned to Y/N. "You okay?"

Y/N exhaled, relief washing over her as she nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.  He just appeared out of nowhere and I kind of got…confused. Don’t know how to explain it. Thank you for stepping in.” she said, her eyes meeting his.

Logan shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but a hint of protectiveness lingered in his gaze. “It’s okay. You don’t have to thank me.”

She told him she’ll be back to the table quickly as she went inside the bathroom. Meanwhile, he walked back to the table in silence. When he arrived, Wade was waiting with his usual smirk, though there was a slight curiosity in his gaze.

"Everything alright?" Wade asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at Logan.

Logan gave a brief, dismissive nod, though his posture was a bit more tense than usual. "Yeah, all good."

But Wade leaned back in his seat, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, really?" he said, drawing out the words. "What exactly happened over there, huh?"

Logan shot him a warning look. “It was nothing.”

"Nothing?" Wade repeated, clearly enjoying himself. "Then how come you jumped up faster than I’ve ever seen you move?" He tilted his head, grinning. "And you were sitting with your back to the hallway— how did you even see that guy bothering her? Were you, I don’t know… watching her?"

Logan’s jaw tightened, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "I just happened to look over, Wade."

Wade chuckled, not letting it go so easily. "Sure, just happened to look over, behind you, all the way across the bar, like a perfectly normal thing. You know, most people don’t have superhero reflexes, but hey, I guess that’s just you, huh? The author really had to give you a sixth sense, and here I thought this was a no-powers AU fic. I’m jealous now!"

Logan just rolled his eyes again, knowing that he would never hear the end of it. 

Y/N returned to the table just then, completely oblivious to the exchange between them. She smiled at Wade and Logan, though her gaze lingered on Logan, a subtle thank you in her eyes. "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing at all," Wade said smoothly, but the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him. He shot a knowing look at Logan. "Just Logan saving the day."

If looks could kill, then maybe the author really did give powers to her characters, or else Wade would be dead from the amount of rage radiating from Logan’s eyes.

Y/N looked a bit surprised, her smile softening as she turned to Logan. "Well, he did save me from a pretty annoying guy." She gave Logan a warm look. "Guess I have a personal bodyguard now."

Logan shrugged, trying to hide a smile. "I wouldn’t get used to it."

"Oh, I think she should," Wade interjected, grinning. "Logan’s got a radar for trouble when it comes to you."

Logan glared at him, but Y/N only laughed, the tension easing as Wade continued to pile on the teasing.

———

The night air was cool and refreshing as they left the bar, but a palpable tension had settled between Logan and Wade. Y/N walked ahead, her steps light and relaxed, still buzzing from the performance and unaware of the tension simmering just behind her. Logan kept his gaze forward, his expression unreadable, hoping Wade might let things slide.

But, of course, he actually had no hope.

Wade slowed his pace, eventually falling into step beside Logan. He cast a sideways glance, lips twitching with a barely concealed grin. "So, Logan…" he began, his tone laced with unmistakable mischief. « What really happened back there?"

Logan exhaled, already bracing himself. "Don’t start, Wade."

"Oh, I’m definitely starting," Wade replied, the teasing edge in his voice unmistakable. He leaned in, keeping his voice low so only Logan could hear. "You jumped up faster than I’ve ever seen you move. Gotta admit, I never thought you would act like that for someone."

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he felt his face grow warmer, an embarrassment creeping up his neck that he hoped wasn’t visible. He didn’t know why but he needed to justify his actions. He had known Wade for years and he knew that whether he was answering or not his questions he just wouldn’t let it go. So, Logan trying to justify something? Well, that was definitely suspicious.  "I was just helping her out."

Wade’s grin widened, his eyes practically gleaming. "Interesting… but I just can’t help to come back to this important detail. That guy wasn’t exactly in your line of sight. And yet, somehow, you just ‘happened’ to notice her in trouble." Wade gave him a mockingly thoughtful look. "So, what is it? Are you keeping an eye on her like the protective fierce man that you are or…were you checking her out—"

"Drop it, Wade." Logan shot him a withering glare, his discomfort flaring into frustration.

"Sure, sure…" Wade said, holding up his hands in surrender. But his smirk was relentless, delighting in Logan’s reaction. "I’m just saying, maybe there’s more to this knight-in-shining-armor routine than you’re letting on."

Logan ground his teeth, forcing himself to look away from Wade’s insufferable grin. 

Why does he always have to push? he thought.

He could feel the heat rising up his neck, his reaction only fueling Wade’s suspicion, and for once, he wished he could just slip away and leave Wade’s relentless teasing behind.

For Wade, this was gold. He hadn’t seen Logan look this flustered in… well, maybe ever. And the way Logan had bolted from his seat to protect Y/N?! Oh oh, that was not something he was about to let go. In fact, he’d been waiting for something like this, knowing that behind Logan’s guarded demeanor was something he’d been working hard to bury. Wade had noticed, even if Logan hadn’t admitted it yet.

Just as Logan was about to retort, Y/N slowed her pace, looking back at them with a casual smile, blissfully unaware of the silent battle happening behind her. "Oops, sorry! Walked too fast." she said with a laugh. She gave Wade a playful shove on the shoulder. "You were really incredible up there. I want invites to all your gigs from now on."

Wade turned to her, beaming as if he hadn’t just been relentlessly teasing Logan. "Finally, some appreciation! And I’ll keep a special place just for you, beautiful." He winked at her before throwing a quick glance at Logan. "See, at least someone here recognizes real talent."

Logan glared, the weight of Wade’s unspoken insinuations only fueling his simmering frustration. 

Great. Now he’s playing innocent. 

But he bit back any response, knowing it would only feed Wade’s amusement.

Completely oblivious to the silent exchange, Y/N continued to laugh, shaking her head. "You’re a menace on stage, Wade," she said, grinning. She glanced over at Logan with this wide beautiful smile, and for a moment, he— what the fuck was happening to him. 

He just happened to look out for Y/n in a crowded place. That didn’t mean anything right? That shouldn’t mean anything. Friends look out for each other. And they were roommates. Final point. Nothing else. Nada. 

And yes he did jump quite fast into action and he would have killed the man if he had hurt her but that didn’t mean anything. That’s just the way he is. He would do that to anyone. Well, maybe not everyone. Maybe Wade. Some of his students— okay, all his students. And Y/N, yes. Because they’re friends. 

Friends. 

Wade, however, was far from finished. He gave Logan a light nudge as Y/N walked a few paces ahead again, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "What are you thinking about in that big head of yours" he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

Logan’s frustration simmered, though he did his best to keep his expression neutral. This is what he wants, Logan reminded himself, to get a reaction out of me. But the way Wade’s grin lingered made his composure waver, and Logan could feel the tension building. His mind replayed the moment he’d seen Y/N’s tense expression from across the room, how a fierce protectiveness had overtaken him without a second thought.

He would have killed that man.

Wade leaned closer, his grin widening as he observed Logan’s clenched jaw. "You know, I’ve seen you keep your cool with a lot worse. But the moment she looked like she needed help, there you were. Funny how you seem to care about her more than you let on."

Logan’s voice was quiet. "I was just looking out for her."

"If you say so," Wade smirked, finally retreating but clearly savoring the effect he’d had on Logan.

Y/N turned around, giving both men a warm smile. "You two coming? Or are you planning a secret meeting back there?"

Logan forced a neutral expression, though his mind was still racing with Wade’s comments. "Right behind you," he replied, ignoring the knowing smirk that hadn’t left Wade’s face.

———

The usual playful banter was subdued as they made their way back to the apartment. Logan walked in silence, his mind replaying the night’s events. He hadn’t planned to feel so protective, and he certainly hadn’t planned on Wade dissecting every second of it. He won’t let this go, Logan thought, mentally bracing himself for whatever was coming.

Y/N stifled a yawn as they entered, stretching her arms over her head with a contented sigh. "Alright, I’m heading to bed," she said, smiling. She turned to Wade, her face warm with genuine appreciation. "Seriously, you were amazing tonight, Wade. You have a real gift."

Wade’s face lit up in an exaggerated grin, and he gave a theatrical bow. "Why, thank you, my lady! Always glad to perform for my number one fan."

Y/N laughed, amused by his antics, and then looked over at Logan. "Night, Logan. See you tomorrow."

Logan’s expression softened, his tensed demeanor slipping for a moment. "Night, Y/N."

The words came out gentler than he intended, but he held her gaze for a split second longer than usual. Y/N gave a small wave and retreated to her room, the door clicking shut behind her.

The moment she disappeared, Logan turned to see Wade standing there, arms crossed and smirking as though he’d just uncovered the world’s greatest secret. The mischief in Wade’s eyes was practically shining.

"Go to bed, Bub," Logan muttered, hoping he could somehow slip away unscathed. He made a move to walk past him, but Wade wasn’t about to let that happen.

"Oh no no no," Wade said, stepping into his path, his laughter barely contained. "After all that? After that heroic display tonight?" He crossed his arms, savoring every moment. "You honestly think I’m letting you off easy? ‘Don’t start, Wade’— well, you better believe I’m not stopping.”

Logan groaned inwardly, "Fuck off" he muttered, his frustration evident, though he knew it would only amuse Wade further.

Wade’s grin widened, his eyebrows raised in mock innocence. He shook his head, leaning in as if sharing a great conspiracy. "Come on, Peanut! The whole ‘just looking out for a friend’ thing doesn’t fool me. I mean, Y/N’s completely oblivious, but me? I see what’s going on. You, my friend, are more obvious than you think."

Logan rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the accusation as he shifted uncomfortably. Just ignore him, he told himself, though he knew that was nearly impossible. Wade wasn’t going to let him escape that easily.

Wade’s smirk only grew, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That protective glare you gave that guy? That’s not how you look out for just any friend. Admit it, Logan—you care about her."

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, knowing any reaction would just fuel Wade’s fire. Logan was trying really hard to resist the urge to wipe that smirk off Wade’s face.

"Shut the fuck up, now, will you?" Logan knew there was no way this was going to work. It was his own end of the world. Probably one of his worst nightmares.

Wade clapped him on the shoulder, feigning seriousness as he leaned in, his voice a loud whisper. "Sweet dreams, lover boy."

Logan groaned, flipping him off as he brushed past, Wade’s laughter echoing down the hallway. He could still hear the lingering amusement in Wade’s voice as he headed toward his room, knowing his friend wouldn’t be letting this go anytime soon. 

Later, he laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Wade’s words still replaying in his mind. Maybe Wade’s right, he admitted to himself, feeling the slightest twinge of something he couldn’t quite name.

They were only roommates.

XXX

[imtotallyokandnormal]

I would kill for some hurt/comfort headcannons about what John Doe does when he realizes that stabbing humans does in fact kill them. I assume he probably panicked real bad when he figures that out, and frantically resets the timeline. Probably would be really careful with You after that.

UGH NO YOU'RE SO RIGHT THOUGH OK OK I'M ON IT ANON I'M RIDING THE HURT COMFORT TRAIN LET'S GO

This ended up being way more sad than comforting but I hope you like it anyway I did my best

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: stabbing, death, angst, description of a corpse and blood, it gets pretty fucked up and sad actually

Image link: howdy!

》☆John Doe After Killing You☆《

- It was the moments after that made him realize. An accumulating number of seconds where you laid limp, staring up at him with those eyes. Those horribly glassy eyes, once full of emotion and now hollow of anything at all.

- After his frantic breathing slowed enough, he would grab your shoulders again, starting on a second wind of manic praise before he noticed something.

- You weren't moving.

- At first they thought you were playing some kind of human joke they didn't understand, chuckling and sitting you up as your lifeless body flopped over. "Oh you are funny, dearest! I may not understand the joke- but you're very good at staying still!"

- When you didn't respond, they tilted their head like a confused puppy. "Dearest? Could you explain the joke to me? I don't really understand."

- The silence was deafening. All you did was lay there, head flopped over with your neck bent at a weird angle. In the silence John took notice to something else; you haven't taken a breath this entire time.

- That's when the panic set in. At first they were in denial, trying to shake you awake as your limbs only swayed under their own gravity. More blood spills from your gaping maw and John's heartbeat quickens again, not from excitement but from fear, a primal fear erupting in him as he continues to shake and grab and plead for you to please wake up.

- But you don't. All you do is lay there. Cold, bloody and dead.

- The guilt ravaged him, all he could do was hold your bloody corpse close and howl in pain as he squeezed you. Or what you used to be, rather.

- He had promised himself to love you, to cherish you. He didn't think his actions were that of harm, he thought they were of love. To be able to see the inside of you, to be close enough that their hands can feel your blood pumping out from your heart, to feel your life force in their hands, becoming one in a way. But they found out too late that humans can only take so much.

- They could only sob violently as they cradled you, tugging at their hair and vowing over and over and over again that they can't let this happen again, not ever again.

- The reset was different.

- Seeing you, moving, breathing...it was different now. A hesitancy came when he stalked you at work, scared that he might hurt you again. Showing his love unbridled and uncontrolled led to the scene that flashes in front of him whenever he sees your face now. The smile he loves only to be interrupted by a vision of blood. So, so much blood.

- It took many resets for them to even let themselves touch you again. Eventually the loneliness became too much. Once you got home one day, there was suddenly a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, squeezing as if you might slip away as easily as the wind.

- John didn't say anything to you then. They didn't need to. The vow they had made was apparent.

- John would never, never see you that way again.

[tbzhub]

Just Go Fuck Him

Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

Summary: Hyunjae moves back into his childhood home and old feelings and memories come up.

Warnings: MDNI, reader has scars, brief mention of childhood trauma, brief mention of surgeries, flashbacks, a smidge negative self-talk, hyunjae is the rizzler, smut... creampie, pet names, yada yada

Rating / Genre: M, neighbor au, childhood crush au, fluff?, slight angst (it’s really not THAT bad), lots of pining

WC: 8K (2K+ words for the smut scenes)

Artist Note: @everynewiee Enjoy! Special thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this and giving me the best fucking commentary. You're a gem and I probably would not have posted this if you hadn't stroked my ego. Love youuuuuu. If there's a typo I'll get to it eventually

m.list tag list

The living room was quiet in its typical offputting fashion as you sat around with your parents; no one saying anything as there were no conversations to be had and nothing playing on the television since no one would pay attention anyway, a phone captivating its user as everyone sat in their respective places. Any interaction at this point would feel almost disrespectful and annoying, disrupting the usual routine of your and your parent’s day. 

Your favorite place to cocoon was on the right side of the sofa, wrapped in a plush blanket while you doom-scrolled until you eventually needed to walk the dogs. This is how your days were spent since your college graduation, making your parents the only ones on the block who weren’t empty nesters. Maybe that explained why you never went out—  there was no one to go out with. Everyone else seemed to blossom rapidly, moving away and starting lives too hectic to return to their childhood homes on a regular basis while you sat at home, wrapped in blankets, feeling left behind.

Feeling left behind wasn’t inherently a negative thing, though— and it wasn’t really a feeling either. Acknowledgment: that’s what you’d describe this part of your life as— the acknowledgment of being a late bloomer, the acceptance of being the last flower waiting to bloom. The last person to leave the nest, as some would say, and that fact was totally okay with you because, in truth, it was okay for you to spend your days the way you pleased. There was no reason to run out and chase after what everyone else was doing just to keep up, to avoid loneliness at the risk of getting hurt. 

Maybe it wasn’t just an acknowledgment; perhaps being a flower that’s yet to bloom guaranteed safety from a world so wide with new people who didn’t know you and old people who’d changed so much that you didn’t know them at all. You certainly weren’t close with anyone that you’d grown up with, and when you’d run into them at the odd holiday party that you were forced to attend, that fact was always highlighted awkwardly and sometimes painfully. There’s something to be said about standing silently in a circle full of adults that you used to run around outside with as a child, as wild stories are passed around, and accomplishments are one upped by additional accomplishments. You’ve watched enough cliques coalesce in real time, cliques that you were a part of as a child but somehow couldn’t squeeze into as an adult… and to say the least, it gets old. Thus, you cocooned, you doom-scrolled, and you became content with the silent life you’d curated with your parents.

So the living room is as quiet as it always was, and the day would drone on as it always did, and you’d be just fine not rocking the boat until it was time to go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow.

But sometimes the boat needs to be rocked, and the loud knock that’s heard does the trick in making your mom flinch in her seat, and your father crane his neck to the rather unexpected sound.

You, on the other hand, do not react because a knock at the door— regardless of how foreign, is never for you. The shifting of your parents getting out of their seats and the creaking of the floorboards underneath their feet does nothing to pull you away from your phone because, again, no one is knocking on the door for you, and you’d never entirely inherited your nan's natural curiosity.

It’s not until your mom comes back into the living room with her head peeking out from behind the foyer wall as she calls out your name that you finally get up from your favorite spot on the couch. The action is done begrudgingly, but your mom swears someone is here to visit you, and her smile is vast, so at the very least, you would appease your mom and be polite.

-

The thing about people-pleasing was that you never knew where you’d end up. You could set out to be polite to some unexpected guest to appease your mother and end up staring face-to-face with your childhood fucking crush. This wasn’t hypothetical; this was actually happening, and you were currently wearing drab black sweatpants.

He says hi first, hugging you at the front door as your parents invite him in for tea, and you stand there looking like a fucking idiot troll whose soul has just left their body. Specifically, you were internally screaming as you said hello and tried not to look like you were combing through your hair with your fingers.

“It’s been so long, Hyunjae. How’s your mom?” Your mom asks as she heads into the kitchen to start the kettle, and you look down at your hands as he responds to her. 

He’s still just as polite as he used to be when you were kids, and that pisses you off.

“It’s so lovely of you to visit,” you hear your dad chime in, and you want to scowl because you felt quite the opposite. Who visits someone they haven’t spoken to in well over half a decade out of the blue without even a single warning? How were you the only person put off by this rogue visitation?

“I thought you were a travel photographer. What are you doing back here?” You ask, and really, you wish you could tell him to leave because this was too much, and you could feel the memories starting to stew inside your brain. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you looked up at his ever-charming smile, and all you wanted to do was flee to your room.

“I moved back. I missed home.” 

-

Hyunjae’s return meant your parents weren’t the only non-empty nesters anymore, which should make you feel better about yourself, but it doesn’t. It makes you feel like a child again and not in a way that should feel safe or warm and fuzzy. It makes you remember your childhood with him as your next-door neighbor. It makes you remember your childhood in general, and it makes you remember all the shenanigans that the two of you got up to together. All the silly poems and doodles you’d write about him in your journal growing up start to whisper around in your mind. All the conversations you’d have in your backyards pull to the forefront of your brain. Core memories flash like you’re watching a synopsis of your life thus far when you close your eyes after turning in for the night. 

You slowly began to remember just how easy it was for you to grow attached to the boy that lived next door…

Hyunjae was a few years older than you, but he was always sweet, unlike the boys his age who lived in the neighborhood. Even in your younger years, it was his kindness that really set him apart in your mind. He was one of the few older kids who played nicely with the younger kids instead of ditching or excluding them or stealing their toys. 

When you fell and scraped your knee trying to ride a bike for the very first time without any training wheels, he was quick to run inside his house to get a bandaid and a small bag of ice. He had kissed your bandaid-covered knee in hopes that it would get you to stop crying, and at the time, you thought the gesture was ludicrous; he wasn’t a mom, so there was no way that he could have the ability to wipe away someone’s pain with the simple press of his lips. 

That was the day that you learned it wasn’t just mothers who held such a magical power

-

So you were putting effort into your looks to walk the dogs now... Nothing crazy— just making sure your hair wasn’t frizzy and that your clothes weren’t wrinkled before you left the house. You hadn’t run into Hyunjae yet, but it was bound to happen, and you wouldn’t be caught off guard when it did.

The dogs were slower than usual to round the block this afternoon, but you didn’t mind, enjoying the album you were listening to as you admired the cotton candy-like clouds dashed across the beautiful pale blue sky. For someone who spent such a massive chunk of their time indoors, you really did appreciate being outside.

Apparently Hyunjae felt the same way. You saw him outside for the first time since he came back, sitting on his front porch with a camera in his hands as he presumably took shots of the sky above. This was perfect actually. You could skitter by unnoticed. With your headphones over your ears and a fancy digital camera concealing most of his face, there should be this shared agreement that deterred one from interrupting the other for the sake of exchanging pleasantries. 

As you move closer, your house getting more prominent in your field of view, you’re reminded that dogs don’t give a fuck about made-up social contracts. Yours pull on their leashes to get to Hyunjae, one barking, and that’s enough to steal the man’s attention away from snapping the shutter. 

Damn. Your streak of avoidance shattered.

He smiles when he sees it’s you and waves with the most earnest expression on his face, and for a brief moment, you forget how to walk like an able-bodied person, legs feeling like mush and mind going blank as his inviting eyes settle on you and your dogs. 

“One foot in front of the other. Smile like a sane person. Don’t let him sense his sheer power over you.”

You repeat the mantra in your mind as you let your dogs pull you closer to him, nearing his front porch with bated breath and a weak smile. It's those wooden steps at the entrance of his house that get you, the ones that harbored far too many sweet core memories. As you sit beside him on the landing, you can’t help but think of every single time that you’ve sat here in the past.

“Hey,” He says, wrapping his arm around you briefly in a friendly, one-armed hug before he sets his fancy digital camera far away from the dogs’ reach.

Your hello is soft and shy, but you didn’t stutter at the physical touch, so you’d consider that a small win.

“So you came home just to take pictures of the sky?”

He snorts at your question, “I already told you why…

“I got tired of the world at large. Plus, there’s more than enough beauty around here. The familiar things deserve to be photographed, too.” He admits simply– as if the sentiment is genuine common knowledge. He’s smiling down at you, and for a second, maybe it was a delusion, but you honestly felt like he was talking about you specifically.

“Watch. I’ll show you what I mean.”

He reaches out for his camera and begins to snap pictures of your dogs, petting them and scratching behind their ears. One of your dogs must secretly be a Hyunjae simp because he can capture her dopey smile perfectly.

You silently watch as he goes through the pictures, his smile widening, and he leans close to show you the one that must have tugged at his heartstrings. It’s a picture of your dog, face cradled in Hyunjae’s large hand, her eyes practically shining with glee, and she has the cutest doggy smile to match.

You giggle, face breaking into perhaps its first genuine smile in such a long time. “This is perfect. I have to show Mom. I’d love a copy if you don’t mind?” 

When you look up from the camera, you notice just how close you are, invading his personal space unwittingly, and a blush rises in your cheeks as you quickly lean away to create some tangible distance.

He only hums in agreement before shutting his camera off again and making eye contact with you. “I’ll send you a copy later tonight. Has your number changed?”

-

When you finally get home, your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and the spring in your step is undeniable. You let the dogs off their leashes and put away your headphones before practically skipping to your bedroom.

You flop on your bed, feeling weightless and energized from the crumb of interaction... This could become a problem, an addiction— could a person become addicted to another person? Regardless of the answer, you squealed in bed, covering your face in your hands as you let every single positive emotion flood through your body. Your legs kick in the air, and you feel giddy, high on the love and infatuation of a crush a decade in the making.

Oh, you were so fucking doomed. Hyunjae needed to either move away or express his intent to marry you as soon as possible because every feeling you’d shoved down had come back in full force, plus interest.

A knock on your bedroom door makes you freeze mid-tizzy, and as the door creaks open, it's your mom’s head that peeks into your room, and the smile that graces her lips looks nearly childlike. She wanted to gossip, you could tell.

“I saw you sitting over at the Lee’s. It’s been so long since I've seen you two sit outside on his porch steps like that.” She says, and immediately, your face goes blank. Any traces of giddiness is sucked right out of you in exchange for bashfulness. 

Vibe ruined. You felt so exposed.

“What? I’m happy. You two used to be so close growing up, and he was such a sweet kid. It’s just nice to see…” she trails off before finally taking the hint and leaving you alone to writhe in your newfound angst and embarrassment.

Your mom was right, though. You spent ample time on the Lee’s front porch growing up.

When everyone had gotten old enough to where the playing field was level, and the neighborhood kids could all get off the school bus together, it was common to hang out in a large group after school. Sometimes, this entailed sitting around and talking. Still, most of the time, this led to adventuring around the block and getting into what could only be labeled as dumb, child-appropriate shenanigans.

It didn’t take long for you to bow out of these afternoon activities in exchange for seclusion, sat at your front door doing your homework, reading a book, or maybe drawing. You didn’t want to partake in what everyone else was doing.

Hyunjae had been the one to start the unspoken tradition by randomly sitting on his porch one day instead of running out to play with everyone else. You noticed him outside, but your head is inside a book about horses, and frankly, what someone else did on their porch was none of your adolescent business.

But that day, he called you over, asking if you wanted to sit with him, and when you explained that you were reading a book, he was quick to respond, saying the same thing.

“We don’t have to talk. Just sit next to me.” That was his persuasive pitch, and it worked.

That day, you sat side by side on his front porch steps, one reading a picture book about horses and the other reading a Spiderman comic book. When he noticed you struggling to sound out an unfamiliar word, he broke the comfortable silence to help you.

That's how it started, the many sessions of keeping each other company on his wooden steps. That’s probably the true catalyst of your friendship, him calling you over and you obliging his request, sitting side by side on wooden steps instead of running around with the other neighborhood kids.

Gradually, this evolved from a mini reading club to you bringing art supplies over to paint together, him helping you with your math homework when it got tough, or even him simply reading a chapter of his library books to you with your head laid against his shoulder, eyes closed as you pictured the fictitious world that Hyunjae was describing to you.

The Lee’s front porch steps slowly became a second home to you, and as you both grew up, experiencing life in new and complicated ways, sometimes the only thing that helped you get by was sitting on those steps with Hyunjae by your side.

-

The coming days felt slow; your typical routine of couch cocooning left you unsatisfied, and you found yourself counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could walk your dogs outside. Which was silly because you were a grown adult; you didn't need to find an excuse to go out… but you did want an excuse to run into Hyunjae again.

Which again— you were a grown adult, and you could take life by the balls and knock on his front door, say hi, and invite yourself in. You weren't going to do that, but at the very least, you acknowledged that plan as a viable option: baby steps and all that.

In your defense, though, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself, and you were scared. So much has changed over the years since you’d last appropriately spoken. You had so many unanswered questions, and you felt like the elephant in the room, the elephant that you’d birthed, still hadn't been addressed… You didn’t think that you’d earned the right to rogue, unannounced visitations in the same way that Hyunjae did.

As of right now, you are settling on the waiting game. Hyunjae sent you the picture of your dog, just as he’d promised, but you haven't seen him outside since. At this point, the ball was in the universe’s court, and you hoped to be favored kindly.

Today, you decided to bring your pinning to a different location, settling on cleaning your bedroom instead of wistfully thinking about Hyunjae as you stared out your living room windows. You would give your room a real deal deep clean; organize and clean out your closet, vacuum, feather dust, wipe down your bedroom windows, and toss out anything that hadn’t been used in three years— the works.

You were moving through these tasks with music on blast, shimmying and singing along while you harbored a spray bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other. No area was safe for dirt or dust in your room. You were intent on cleaning until your room was interior design magazine-level spotless, and the next inanimate victim was your window. You pushed back the curtains and drew the blinds to reveal the dusty glass pane.

Wow, this should get done more often.

You attacked the window pane with cleaning spray and started wiping, swaying to the beat of the bass-heavy song that played through your speakers, and soon you're doing more dancing than wiping. You get lost in the song, singing into the window as if you were in a music video as you run the cleaning cloth over the glass like it was a prop.

Then you notice Hyunjae standing in his bedroom window, and you halt. How long had he stood there? How much of your theatrics had he witnessed? You remove your hand from the glass, and your face twists up in humiliation. 

He crosses his arms, eyebrows arching upwards, but the rest of his expression seems impassive before he finally bursts into a fit of laughter, causing you to do the same. Your embarrassment dissipates as he claps his hands to applaud you for such a lovely showcase, and you playfully bow. 

This moment wasn’t the first time that one of you has gotten caught being weird in the recesses of your bedrooms by the other, but it’s been so long that you can’t help but giggle. Some things really don’t change, and you’re glad that, at this point, getting caught by Hyujnae feels the same way as it did when you were younger. No judgment, just a short shock of embarrassment followed by playfulness and laughter shared between good friends. 

-

Hyunjae’s been back home for over a month now, and you were still… dragging your feet when it came to acknowledging the obvious. You were being stubborn, and you were starting to annoy your mother. She, so badly, wanted to play matchmaker. Yet, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, insisting for the nth time that you did not like Hyunjae and that he did not like you. She’d roll her eyes and drop the matter, but she always muttered something under her breath. Then you’d act like you didn't hear, just like she’d act like you hadn’t spewed such a bald-faced lie.

You did like him, though. You more than liked him, and that’s what startled you most. To want someone in so many ways... The concept was so new to you, and Hyunjae made pining over him refreshing. 

There were parts of it that were innocent and parts that felt like carnal desire. You wanted to talk to Hyunjae every day like you used to— to spend time with him every day, just like when you were kids. There was this familiarity in his presence that was soothing, and yet most days, he left you feeling drunk off the feelings and needs that you’d developed for him. 

He was sweet, and he made you laugh, but at his baseline? Hyunjae was a flirt that left you flustered all the time. 

It’s the looks he gives you, the curve at the corner of his lips when he’d notice you short-circuit from one of his sly compliments, or the intense eye contact he’d give you while you spoke. It was the way he’d playfully nudge you as you sat beside him on his porch steps, and it was most definitely the cheeky smile he'd flash at you when he was jogging around the block with his shirt off. With all of that, you were starting to look at him differently, and you found yourself appreciating him in ways that you’d never paid attention to before.

When had he gotten so irresistibly attractive? Has he always been this undeniably sexy?

He’d gotten stronger, bulkier. It only took a few shameless glances in his direction while he was outside, gearing up for a run, to notice just how toned he was. His back muscles were lean. His arms looked so firm… like he could protect you with them or wrap them around you as he drilled nothing but raw pleasure into your body. The thought alone made you shiver, and it was becoming damn near impossible to look at him in a friendly way. Exceptionally not with his lips so perfectly crafted. He had lips that could easily hypnotize you— and they did often. You’d try your hardest to focus on his words just to fantasize about how sweet and kissable his lips were. 

Right now, you were stuck between reality and a daydream as you stood outside listening to Hyunjae speak. You’d crossed paths as he was coming in from a late evening jog, and you were heading out to walk the dogs. You watched the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip slowly, and then your eyes began to trail down past his bare chest. Before you could fall deeper into your thoughts, heat spread across your chin, and your face got tilted upward for you to meet Hyunjae’s gaze.

“Like what you see?” He guesses, calling you out playfully, and your reaction time is slow to it all. 

You barely register getting caught as you focus on the sudden physical contact, the way his hand cups your chin firmly, and the warmth that his fingers provide to your skin. His touch lingers as you stare up at him with a facial expression displaying nothing but need. How could such a simple gesture cause you to buckle so intensely? If you tried to speak right away, you might let out a moan. 

You have to take a step back to regain your composure, and your hand tightens around the leash that you're holding. 

Fuck. 

For a moment, you’d even forgotten all about your dogs. They needed a walk, and here you were eye fucking Hyunjae outside his childhood home. Your words are mumbled and short as you try to slink away, stepping to the side to get around him on the sidewalk.

“My bad.”

That’s all you could say. It was the lamest thing to come out of your mouth in a while, but your dogs could be your escape from such an awkward situation. 

His hand grabs your wrist, though, stopping you from completing one of your little vanishing acts. You can barely hear him over your rapidly beating heart. All you can make out is that he’ll text you when to come over, and there's something else about going for a drive.

-

Hyunjae kept taking casual side glances your way while you sat together in his car. No one was talking, and you could tell he was gearing up to say something ridiculous. The smirk that graced his mouth was your leading indicator, and the suspense killed you. The lull in your conversation only heightened your anticipation as you tried to relax into the passenger seat, sitting silently and with thick tension.

“You never answered my question, you know.” His words come out so nonchalant that you nearly misunderstand him.

But you could play coy, too, so you take a long sip from your drink to keep him waiting.

 “Hm?” 

The eye roll he gives you is comical and dramatic, and he feigns offense as his hand covers his heart.

“You forgot that fast? Wow, dude. Check me out, and then forget all about it. I feel used.” Even as the words pass his lips, he’s smiling, his eyes creasing, and the rise of his cheekbones are very telling. Hyunjae just loved to see you squirm in the hot seat.

“I don’t know what— did you just call me dude?” His phrasing finally registers, and you scoff. Was this a date, or did you just get painfully friendzoned?

His eyebrows quirk upward, and the smirk along his lips turns devilish momentarily as he hums, eyes intently on your own.

“I’m sorry. Would you prefer something more forward? I could call you baby… there's also babe, angel, sunshine. Buttercup if we’re feeling frisky. Darling is a favorite of mine, but anything’s on the table, really.” 

Your nose scrunches up at his blatant teasing. The man was straight up toying with your emotions. “Just f-forget about it.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.” 

His words bounce around the car before striking straight through you. The cup in your hand clatters clumsily into its holder as you drop it.

So much for keeping it cool.

“Ooooh, so that’s the one. I’ll remember that.” He says through a chuckle and a smug grin as he reclines further in his seat.

“You know you didn’t have to bring me all the way out here to tease me. You were doing a pretty good job from the comfort of your own home.” 

You tried to sound dry and aloof, but you started to buzz with anticipation. The feelings that you’d kept hidden, albeit poorly, would be pushed and prodded to the surface, thanks to Hyunjae and his charming smile.

“That’s not why I brought you out here. I actually wanted to talk. I’ve missed you.” He admits, reaching out to touch your shoulder tenderly. 

“Hyunjae. We’re neighbors. You see me every day.” You assert, facial expression going deadpan as you stare back at his unwavering flirtatious gaze.

He sighs at that, mind seeming to go to a faraway place before he speaks up again.

“It’s more than that. I miss how close we used to be. We haven’t hung out alone like this since the summer before my senior year of high school. It feels like decades have passed and…

“It felt like it happened out of nowhere. It was like one day, we were close. I’d say we were best friends, and then the next day, you woke up and decided that wasn’t the case anymore. Why? What did I do?”

There was a gleam of hurt in his eyes that caused your bottom lip to jut out as guilt struck you. Hyunjae was right. You were close. He was your favorite person, and you were his. He was ever-present throughout much of your life, and then you ghosted him. You could pinpoint the exact moment when things changed, and you’d decided to stop being his friend. 

You were a teenager riddled with insecurities, and instead of talking to him about it— or talking to anyone for that matter, you’d made the conscious decision to become reclusive. You thought that you needed to detach from someone that you, for the longest time, considered was your one and only gift from the universe growing up.

You purse your lips together before opening your mouth to speak, but doubt settles and seeps into your bones. “I don’t know how to explain this without sounding dumb.” 

Hyunjae shrugs, “Just say it. Dumb or not. We’ll piece everything together as a team.”

His eyes were soft, and his hand went to rest on your knee, giving you all the comfort and safety that you needed to explain yourself.

“Um… obviously, I have a crush on you, right? Like, let’s move past that fact fast.” You pause to read Hyunjae’s reaction, but he only gives you a small smile while his hand reaches for yours, lacing his fingers through your own.

“A-and… I guess I knew that even back then. I mean, yeah. I had a huge fucking crush on you back then. Oh god, it was bad. It's just as bad as it is now, honestly. But when we were in high school, I started developing all these insecurities. I started noticing that other girls looked different from me. They didn’t grow up getting used to the hospital like I did. They didn’t have these long surgical scars on their legs like mine. You remember that part of my life, right? Your mom let you visit me after my first surgery when I was super young.”

Somewhere along the way, you shifted in your seat to stare out the window as you spoke, unable to hold eye contact and show vulnerability simultaneously.

“I didn’t realize it then because I was so young… I just wanted to feel better, but my body was branded with all this trauma. The scars on my thighs documented it all. It was hard going to gym class. The locker room was awful; I’d feel so insecure, and then I’d have to think about you constantly. All the girls knew you, and they’d talk about how hot you were. All. The. Time. And because I was your best friend, they’d ask me about you all the time. I was ‘popular’ but only because they wanted something from me. I couldn’t deal with it. All these beautiful girls with perfect, flawless skin constantly asked me about the guy that I’d liked for so long.

“I could not deal with another school year being seen only as the gateway to Hyunjae. I spent that summer in my room crying and wishing that things were different. That I was different, that I'd wake up and these scars would be gone. That I could finally get the guy that I’d wanted for so long… Obviously, that never happened. So I thought that if I put you and our friendship behind me, maybe I could, at the very least, move on because why would a guy like you want someone so far from perfect.”

You did it. Hyunjae is finally caught up and no longer left in the dark. All that was left to do now was listen to his response. You feel firm hands grab at your waist, and you're awkwardly pulled out of your seat until you're straddling Hyunjae’s lap.

“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, but… is that what you really think? That I wouldn’t want you because of something like that?” He’s looking up at you with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and all you can do is nod meekly.

“I hate that, you know. I hate knowing that you spent an entire summer crying, and I was right next door, and I didn’t know.” His hands fall to your thighs, squishing them in his hold gently as he processes all of this information.

“I can’t even joke about how down bad we’ve been for each other because right now I’m shocked.” He goes on, sighing heavily before chewing on his bottom lip.

“My mom raised me right. I can reassure you that I would never care about something like that. I know, all too well, how to appreciate and treat a good woman. You’ve always been beautiful to me, and you’ll continue to be. Always. No matter what. Those parts of you are gorgeous, too, because they’re a part of the bigger, breathtaking picture.

“I don’t want to miss out on any more time, okay?”

Before you can grace him with a response, his lips are on yours, and his hand is pressed against your back as he pushes your body closer to his.

It was the kind of kiss that made you realize just how lonely you’d been. Urgency and desire ran straight through your veins to pool at your center, and you felt like you were melting into the man below you. You could stay like this forever, straddling Hyunjae’s hips while your tongue collided beautifully with his. He kissed you like a thirsty man dying for a drink. Faint gasps leave your chest whenever he pulls away to breathe to dive back in and fuse his mouth with yours again. 

So this is how Hyunjae’s lips feel. This is how it feels to be kissed by him.

You both become lost in the kiss, and his hands begin to roam. Warmth spreads across your lower back as one of Hyunjae’s hands snakes its way underneath your shirt to caress your skin, and a shiver flows up your spine. Your fingers tangle into his hair, anchoring yourself to this moment as your hips roll. That’s when you feel it.

“Oh.” You breathe out.

The tent in his pants nudges against you perfectly as you're coaxed into a steady grind by the firm hand pressed along your back.

“Feel good?” He asks, pulling away to look up at you with glossy lips and messy hair. Your nod is an eager one as you try to lean down, eyes closing as you search for his lips again while Hyunjae leans into you, pressing kisses to your neck instead. 

You feel his free hand creep up to your thighs as you continue to chase after the friction his crotch provides. Your skirt slowly becomes bunched up, cool air hitting your thighs, and you freeze, shyness and insecurity washing over you.

“J-jae…” You stutter out in a whisper, grabbing his face in your hand to stop him from looking down.

There’s a look of understanding on his face, but you also see a glint of something else in his eyes. “Wanna come back to my place, Sweetheart? I can think of some ways to help you get comfortable.”

-

As promised, Hyunjae made you feel safe and comfortable. He asked for permission before peeling a new article of clothing away from your body each time. He litters soothing touches and gentle kisses to any freshly exposed skin as he gets you undressed fully. When you’re completely bare, he’s keen to comfort you, making a point of looking you in the eyes before sneaking a glance down to your chest briefly.

“Just focus on me, okay?” He says, voice as soft as cotton while his hand comes up to stroke the side of your face sweetly.

He leans back to take off his shirt, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless more than a handful of times, you can’t help the whine that leaves you. Your eyes trail down his toned torso and settle expectantly on his hands that fiddle with his jeans. You were about to learn something new about Hyunjae, and you were paying very close attention.

He was big, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to stop the moan that tries to punch out of you. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you stare blatantly at every part of him before your wide eyes finally lift to meet his gaze.

“It’ll fit.” He reassures smugly, and you roll your eyes at that.

“When did you get so cocky?” You sass through a tease as you're pushed backward onto his bedsheets.

“Don’t be jealous, Sweetheart. You’ll be full of cock soon.” He tosses back, causing you to shudder. 

He hovers above you for a moment, caging your body in between his strong arms as he looks down at you with fondness in his gaze while he admires your beauty. He leans down to kiss you on the lips before moving down your body.

His lips press against every part of your body on his trek down your chest and past your stomach. When he gets to your thighs, he takes his time, closing his eyes as he kisses every spot, running his tongue along the blemishes that make you doubt yourself. He alternates his love and affection as he slots himself between your legs, nipping at one thigh before pressing a wet kiss to the other.

You feel weightless already. There's not an ounce of nervousness in your body as Hyunjae worships the parts of you that you thought you disliked the most. You felt cared for, cherished, and like you were the most enticing person in the world. The tingling sensations travel closer and closer to the apex between your thighs until you let out a gasp that quickly morphs into a whimper.

“Jae— 

You're cut off by a moan as Hyunjae’s tongue swipes up your wetness in one languid motion, causing a jolt of pleasure to dash through your body. He hums into your pussy as he runs his tongue from side to side, parting your folds and tasting you hungrily before he slots your clit between his lips. You lurch forward, and he reaches one arm up to press you back into the bed, resting his hand on your stomach. He pushes your thighs farther apart with his free hand; his grip is tight around your thigh while he buries his face further into your pussy, tongue unrelenting as he sucks on your clit in tandem with the flicks of the wet muscle.

You didn’t know how to move through life after experiencing something life-altering like this. Hyunjae’s mouth made you feel unreal. His tongue could easily be labeled the 8th wonder of the world. All you could do was softly moan his name like you were reciting a prayer as he worked you over. 

The bed dips as he shifts his positioning, stopping his ministrations for a minute, and when you look down, you notice just how drenched his chin is because of you, and you shyly close your legs.

“Y-you don’t have to contin—

He cuts you off by forcing your legs apart and looking up at you purposely while he settles between your thighs again. 

“Why would you deny yourself something we both know you want?” He challenges, tongue sticking out to ghost over your glistening pussy, and the delicate warmth that the barely-there touch provides is enough to have you whining in need. You push his head back down, hoping he’ll just shut up and go back to town. He does, but not without having the last word. 

“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, words slurred as he tries to talk between sloppy licks. His tongue remains flat as he laps at your pussy to make you fall apart. 

When you seem close, with moans flowing out of you ceaselessly, he sinks into you, tongue massaging your spasming walls as he fucks you with his mouth, and that’s all you need. Your face grows hot, and you start to quiver; your thighs begin to falter, and Hyunjae has to hold them steady with his large hands as your orgasm swallows you whole.

“Oh FUCK.”

You will never be the same. Your body throbs with pleasure, and you shake through the most powerful feeling that you’ve ever encountered in your life. You’re speaking only in incoherent babbles as Hyunjae continues to tongue fuck you until the sensation is far too much for your pussy, and you have to push him away. You look up at him breathlessly, eyes unable to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time as you come down from such an intense finish.

“God bless you, Hyunjae.” You finally say, still twitching from your nerves getting lit on fire.

“I take it I did pretty good, hm?” He points out with the cockiest grin while he wipes his chin, coating the back of his hand in your essence. His eyes drift away from your face to check you out, and his face melts into a genuine smile.

“Your body is perfect to me, by the way. Every single part of it. Every minor detail.” He reassures, voice coated in sincerity as he trails his hand along your thigh, thumb running across a faded scar.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you turn your face away from him, with a blush peppering your cheeks. “It’s your turn…” You add, letting your legs fall open for him.

“Our turn,” He corrects as he turns your face to look up at him. 

“You ready, Sweetheart?” He asks while he hovers above you, and you can feel how warm and heavy he is against you, prompting you to nod your head yes.

Hyunjae sheathes himself inside you slowly, causing you to groan blissfully as your eyes fall closed. He feels so good. The stretch is just right, and as he buries himself deep inside you, it’s like you’re being split open, but in the best way. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you adjust to his girth and length. When you finally open your eyes, you're met with the sight of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen trying his hardest to hold himself together.

“You okay, Darling?” You ask in a teasing whisper while you take in Hyunjae’s state. He looks tense, his teeth are abusing his bottom lip, and for shits and giggles, you clench around him and he hisses.

“You’re incredibly tight.” He says through gritted teeth before he exhales. He rears back, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you hear him curse under his breath.

“I-it’s like your pussy is choking my cock…” He mumbles before he leans down to kiss your neck and tries to press forward again. You hear him whimper softly, and it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard, and it's all because of you.

“I feel good?”

“You feel so. Fucking. Good.” He praises through a pant. 

His hips start to roll against yours as he finds a steady pace to fuck you with, and soon his bedroom is filled with a mixture of moans and skin slapping against skin. His body weight presses you further into the bedsheets, and you feel like you’re being surrounded by love and warmth as every fantasy that you’ve ever had comes true. 

Hyunjae’s strong body lays flush on top of yours, and his fingers lace through yours while he rocks into you harder with precise movements. His other arm goes under your body to tilt your pelvis upward as he begins hitting you at a new angle that pulls a cry out of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, needing him closer and deeper as you’re fucked into oblivion. Each powerful thrust has you sliding up the sheets, and your pussy clamps down on him whenever his cock drags out of you. You felt stuffed, filled to the brim, and you missed him when he reared back, leaving you nearly empty for half a second at a time.

Praises were mumbled against your skin while he plunged into you. You had the best pussy. You were doing a good job; you’re taking him so well. You felt incredible. Hyunjae’s words sent you to the edge, and all you could do was gasp and moan as you came undone. Your walls flutter and spasm as you arch your back, screaming his name out for the neighborhood to hear.

“J-Jae,” you whimper, lip trembling as Hyunjae molds your body to his fat cock.

“I know, Sweetheart… Relax and enjoy it.” He coos softly, coaching you through your second orgasm.

His hips don’t slacken; they do the opposite, speeding up as he hammers the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly until something inside you snaps. You writhe underneath him, and your fingers tighten around his own as you fall into bliss. Hyunjae’s eyes are glued to your face as your mouth drops open, and a long, drawn-out groan leaves your body.

“That’s right, baby. Keep going.” He says through a grunt as he starts to chase his high.

He shifts, lifting you into his arms while his cock stays buried inside you. You're positioned upright, body going limp against his muscular thighs as he continues to drill into you, massaging your walls at a merciless pace. One large bicep stays wrapped around your waist, and his free hand snakes between you both to rub against your clit as if he could get you to cum a third time. You’re just a brainless lump of whimpers at this point as your head rests against his sweaty chest.

“I’m close, Sweetheart. I know you can do it again, come on, baby.” He pleaded, voice ragged as his thrusts turned desperate. 

His moans get more prominent, and when you look up to meet his gaze, Hyunjae looks fucked out beyond belief, lips parted, and hair a disaster on top of his head. You muster up enough energy to kiss him on the lips, swallowing all his pretty noises and whimpering against his plush lips. You feel his hips stutter. Then heat spreads inside you, and you shake as he fills you with cum while you experience another earth-shattering orgasm.

You're both tired and sticky. The bed sheets are hardly halfway on the bed, twisted onto one side, but neither of you seems to care. You collapse onto the bare mattress with Hyunjae’s cock still hidden inside you. When he finally pulls out, your dripping pussy adds to the mess on his bed. He lays down beside you, immediately pulling you in for a cuddle.

“You’re going to stay here, right?” He asks, looking down at you with a hopeful gleam.

“Of course. Even if I wanted to go home, I couldn’t deal with a walk of shame right now. My legs don’t work. I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon when I have to walk the dogs.” You answer through a giggle.

NOTE: There is a part two that can be found: here.

[awkward-walking-potato]

maybe deadpool x reader where they don’t have a very good friendship in their life and wade finds them crying over it one day.? hurt comfort my beloved …

Cry Buddy

You never imagined that Deadpool, of all people, would be the one to find you in such a vulnerable state. You thought you’d have been able to keep it together, but some days, the weight of loneliness and the lack of meaningful friendships got to be too much. Today was one of those days.

You sat alone, your back against a wall in a quiet corner, tears streaming down your face as you tried to hold back sobs. You were supposed to be strong—at least, that’s what everyone always told you. But today, it was too much. The feeling of isolation, of not really having anyone to turn to, was suffocating.

And then, just when you thought you were alone, you heard a familiar voice.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the chimichangas. Are those tears? In this economy?"

You looked up to see Wade standing there, tilting his head as he stared down at you. His usual comedic bravado was still present, but there was a softness in his gaze, something that made you realize he wasn’t going to just crack jokes and leave.

You quickly tried to wipe your face, embarrassed that he had found you like this. "I’m fine, Wade."

"Uh-huh, yeah, I know what ‘fine’ looks like, and this... this isn’t it," he replied, squatting down in front of you. "You wanna talk about it? Or should I just sit here and make awkward conversation until you eventually tell me what’s going on?"

You managed a weak chuckle through your tears, which only seemed to encourage him.

"There it is! A little smile!" Wade grinned widely under his mask, leaning back on his heels. "But seriously, what’s going on? You don’t just cry for no reason. Trust me, I know all about crying—especially when no one’s around to hear it."

You sighed, feeling the weight of everything still pressing down on you. "I just... I don’t really have anyone, Wade. No real friends. People act like they care, but they don’t. I feel like I’m always the one left out, or like I’m never good enough for anyone to really stick around."

Wade was quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so. Then, he moved to sit next to you, leaning his head back against the wall. "You know, people suck. Most of them, anyway. And friendships? They can be like eating a bad taco. Looks good at first, but by the end, you’re regretting every bite. Trust me, I get it."

You glanced over at him, surprised by how genuine he sounded.

"But," Wade continued, "I also know that sometimes, you meet someone who’s not like the others. Someone who’ll stick around, even when you’re not your best. Someone like... I don’t know, me?"

You let out a small laugh, though the tears were still threatening to spill over. "You’re not exactly the first person that comes to mind when I think ‘reliable friend,’ Wade."

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "I am shocked and appalled. I am a great friend! I may not always show up on time, or... ever... but when I do? Oh, I’m there for you, 100%."

There was a sincerity in his voice now, one that made your heart ache a little less. Wade wasn’t like everyone else, that much was clear. He was chaotic and unpredictable, but at the same time, you knew that he meant what he said.

"You know," he added, "if you ever feel like crying again, I can be your cry-buddy. We can cry together. I’ve got this beautiful monologue prepared for such occasions—guaranteed to make us both sob uncontrollably."

You wiped your eyes, smiling a little wider this time. "Thanks, Wade. I guess... I just didn’t expect you to care."

He shrugged, casually placing an arm around your shoulders. "Well, surprise! I do care. And if anyone else says you’re not good enough or leaves you hanging, I’ll just—" He mimed slicing with an imaginary sword. "Problem solved."

You leaned into him slightly, feeling some of the loneliness start to fade. "You don’t have to fight anyone for me, Wade."

"Who said anything about fighting? I’ll just give them a stern talking-to," he said with a wink. "But seriously, I’m here, okay? You’re not alone. And I’m not just saying that because you have great taste in chimichangas."

For the first time in a long time, you felt a little lighter, knowing that maybe—just maybe—you had found someone who truly cared.