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trippinsorrows · 2 months ago

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looking through your eyes + sixteen

authors note: healing is not linear. regression, sadly, is a part of the process. and ultimately, if someone wants to hurt themselves, they will find a way to do so.

*this chapter contains extremely triggering content. please ensure to read all content/trigger warnings to make an informed decision regarding your mental state and ability to consume the following work of fiction. your mental wellbeing is forever and always more important than any story.*

cw/tw: heavy angst, violence, torture, ptsd episode, victim blaming, reference to childhood sexual assault, thoughts and urges of self-harm, suicide attempt

gentle reminder that you can call or text the free, confidential 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 anytime, 24/7.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

“I–I just want to see him. Please—”

It’s got to be the third or even fourth time she’s tried to ask, pleading with her husband’s Wise Man to let her see her husband.

It was hard enough to get Solo to agree to take her to where Roman is, a medical clinic that’s clearly only open to tend to him and any other Bloodline member injured in the shootout. That’s evident by the lack of anyone present outside of an impressive number of Bloodline security.

An uninjured Bayley and Naomi met her at the house shortly after she arrived with Solo, and while she was pleased to see they were okay, to hear that Jimmy and Jey also made it out uninjured, the man she cares about the most is ironically the man she seems incapable of checking on.

She can’t find a way to settle her anxiety, continuing to play the scene of him shot, outside of her head.

That’s why she needs to see him.

She has to see him.

Paul sighs, and there’s irritation evident both in his tone and facial expression. “Solana, I don’t think—hey!”

Fuck it.

He’s silenced by Solana rushing past him, nearly knocking him over in the process. Eyes wide with shock, he stammers, looking just as bewildered as the security guards around him. “Well, don’t just stand there, stop her!”

The men rush to run after her, Solana well aware of the fact that the likelihood of her outrunning them is slim to none.

Doesn't mean she can’t try.

It’s a silly thought though because of course security would be up and down every hall of the clinic, sets of hardened eyes falling on her, ready to attack when they realize who she is. It changes the dynamic a bit. Expressions still stoic and lethal but also confused.

Solana freezes only for a bit as she forces out her request, a poorly delivered demand, really to the guards that line the hall that she suspects house the room Roman is being treated in.

“I need to see my husband.” No one says anything, two of them sharing an expression as Solana decides to try her luck again, knowing that they wouldn’t actually shoot her, trying to sprint past them.

She’s unlucky this time though because one of the guards catches her, restraining her. This makes her tense up almost immediately, fear rising up yet again for the thousandth time tonight.

“Let go of me!” Solana tries to wiggle her way out of the iron grasp, eager and almost needing to get these strange male hands off of her, such a stark contrast to the comfort and safety she feels when it’s Roman who has his hands on her. “I need to see Roman! Please!”

The man holding her and probably pulling her away from the direction of Roman’s room says nothing, just continues to ignore her demands to be released.

“Man, what the hell you doing!”

Solana’s head snaps to the side as she lays eyes on an enraged Jimmy who stalks over, his mere presence and tone causing the man to release her. Solana gasps a bit as Jimmy grabs the man by his collar and slams him against the wall. “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again! You lucky it’s me here and not Roman cause he’d already have a bullet in your head for touching his wife!”

Jimmy looks around, shouting, “that goes to all of ya’ll asses!” He points to Solana. “She asks for Roman, you take her to fucking Roman, alright?”

Bowed heads of shame and a sudden focus on the laminate flooring of the clinic, Solana is relieved when Jimmy walks over, voice calmer, motioning her to follow him. “Come on, Soso.”

Solana wants to ask Jimmy if he’s okay, inquire about Jey, make sure that they’re okay. Bayley and Naomi already told her as such, but they don’t know that. It’s just what’s most polite and appropriate, but all she can think about is Roman and laying eyes on him.

She needs to see him.

And as awful as it may sound, she cares more about making sure her husband is okay before anyone else.

Caught up in her thoughts, she misses when Jimmy knocks on a door in a rhythmic pattern, followed by Jey cracking the door open.

Jimmy sucks his teeth. “Man, open the door. It’s Soso.”

Solana, however, has no desire to wait any longer and finds herself, pushing on the door, forcing Jey to stumble back. “Damn, girl!”

She’s not listening though, uninterested in apologizing because she’s focused on something else.

Focused on someone else.

An older man with blonde hair pulled back, dressed way too casually to be a medical professional seems to be finishing up bandaging her husband who stands only feet away, shirtless, revealing the shoulder tourniquet that conceals the wound. The place where he was hurt.

Where he was shot.

Emotion renews, and a new set of tears reload as she finds herself moving over to him, pressing her body into his, doing her best to avoid touching his left shoulder. Her eyes shut, tears spilling over when she feels Roman’s hand on the small of her back.

“Get out.” It’s directed to the twins and who Solana would guess is the doctor who treated his wound, that last thing being what causes her to pull away, to look over at the stranger.

“No. You—you have to help him—”

The man chuckles and removes the blue latex gloves from his hands. “Lil lady, that’s a job only the big Man Himself can handle.” She frowns a bit as the man with striking blue eyes and an almost country accent explains, “He’ll be fine. Bullet went straight through. Didn't hit any bones, artery, or organs. If he takes it easy for a couple weeks, he'll be good as new. That’s assuming, however, he actually follows the doctor’s orders for once.”

It’s that last sentence that makes Solana wonder if this is the same doctor who diagnosed Roman with high blood pressure and medicated him for it. It makes sense.

But, it’s when they’re alone that the waterworks seem to really come out, Solana unable to hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry—this—this is all my fault.” She cries, Roman gently cradling her face as she shakes her head. “You–you got hurt because of m-me-.”

Roman looks thoroughly confused, asking, “what are you talking about?”

There’s such a heaviness in her stomach and on her chest. She doesn’t want to do this. God, she really doesn’t want to. But, it’s her not doing this in the first place that landed them where they are.

“Roman…..” She closes her eyes. This is so much harder than she thought it would be, and she never thought it would be easy per se, but she also didn’t think it would be this damn painful. “My—my father. He…he wanted our marriage to happen so—so that I—” It’s like knives splitting and slicing the back of her throat as she forces out, “he wanted me to kill you.”

If Roman has a strong or visceral reaction to her dark confession, he doesn’t show it. His expression remains unreadable, maybe a bit of concern, but that was present the minute he laid eyes on her.

“And he said that if I didn’t do it, then he–he would kill me, and that’s w–why you got hurt tonight, because—because of me, because I didn’t say anything.” A fresh set of tears generate as she desperately tries to help him and make him believe her as she explains, “but, I—I was never going to—I could never—I’d rather die than do anything to h–hurt you.”

And it’s the truth.

She would have rather him let the bullet hit her than him.

It’s not fair he had to pay for her actions. Or lack, in this case.

“Solana.” He cuts her off, gentle, voice much calmer than she anticipated in response to such a confession. “I already knew.”

And just like that, she’s back to not breathing again, rendered nearly incapable of speech as she stammers out a response, “w–what?”

Roman sighs deeply, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “I always knew your father was up to something. I’m far from stupid. He was too eager and pushy to make the marriage happen. It was obvious he had ulterior motives.” His eyes squint a bit, as he asks her, “why you think one of the first things I did when we got married was cut off contact between the two of you, huh? Whatever he was planning, I wasn’t gonna let him use you to do it.”

Roman’s words together make a logical, sensical sentence, but it’s the processing of it that she struggles with. Roman knew. He knew all along that her father was planning something.

And yet he said nothing.

He has no reaction.

He continues, admitting, “I didn’t know specifically what he had planned, but it doesn’t really make a difference. Murder. Coup d'etat. He wasn't the first, and he won’t be the last.” It’s the casual way he says it that Solana feels so conflicted about, so stunned how he can be so calm about constant threats against his life, against his empire. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, and it probably won’t be the last time.”

“Don’t say that.” She whispers. The trauma and shock of seeing him shot was bad enough, and seeing he appears okay is relieving, but the thought of it happening again feels almost unbearable.

“Solana, you know what I am and what I do. But, it’s like I told you before, I have a tendency to not die, which pisses people off.” His delivery towards the end manages to make her smile. It’s small and sad, but a smile nonetheless. “There it is….” His thumb brushes away some of her tears. “Don’t cry, baby. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She noticed. The same way she doesn’t like to see him hurt. For him to be anything other than okay.

Roman’s eyes shift into something softer as he asks, “why didn’t you tell me?” It’s a question born from curiosity versus the accusatory nature she would expect from someone who was just told their wife was sent to kill them.

It’s a bit of a difficult one to answer too. “I was—I was scared. At the beginning of our marriage, I—I was scared what you would do to me if—if I told you.”

There’s an almost pained look that flashes across his face as he vows, “Solana, you know I would never—”

“I know. I know that now.” She stresses, gently cutting him off. There’s not a doubt in her mind that Roman would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. “But, I—I didn’t then. And….I think I just—I didn’t want to think about it, because things were going good and—and I hadn’t seen him in so long, but I was wrong—and I should have said something sooner—”

“It doesn’t matter.” He’s the one to cut her off this time, shaking his head. “But Solana, your father has crossed a line this time. He tried to kill you.” Roman’s eyes are blazing with with the flame of anger and fury, a desire for vengeance clearly dancing at the forefront of his mind. “I know I told you I wouldn’t kill him until you told me—”

“I don’t care,” she affirms, voice darkening into something also angry. “He—he tried to take you from me. I don’t—I don’t care what happens to him anymore. Him or Wes.”

Because while she doesn’t know the status of her brother and his recovery, Wes was just as involved with the evil plan, so what went down tonight had to have some influence from him in one way or another. It makes him just as guilty.

Roman nods and kisses her temple. He then calls out, “Jey.” It’s loud enough for his cousin to hear, opening the door and asking, “what’s up?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate. “Get me Miller. Just Xavier.” Solana must look curious as he explains, “your brother isn’t well enough yet. I want him back to health, so I can prolong his torture.” It paints a picture of a brutal, gruesome ending, but she can’t find it in her to be repulsed. Whatever hope she had for her brother is clearly long gone, if it was ever there.

“You got it.” Jey nods and closes the door as Solana places her hand on Roman’s forearm, drawing his attention down to her.

“I—I want to talk to him before—-” She swallows, asking, “please?”

Roman nods. “Of course.” She’s thankful for his agreement but not entirely surprised. He breaks away from her, countenance shifts into something stoic and determined.

“This ends tonight.”

________

Solana’s introduction to the place where her husband has probably taken and ended more lives than she’d like to admit is definitely a one and done thing. The atmosphere alone is so dark and depressing that if not for her hand in his and him walking closely alongside her, she might even find herself a bit scared.

But his presence along with her determination to get in her final words to her father manage to carry her over.

She’s also both surprised and relieved when she sees Bayley and Naomi also present. She’s unable to ask them about their presence because Roman is already explaining, “I know you don’t want to be home alone tonight, and I’m not making it back anytime soon.”

She nods, not needing to know why. The edge in his voice is all the telling she needs.

Solana’s stomach drops a bit when she’s taken to her father, strapped to a chair, hands and wrists tied. His face is bruised up, cut, and bleeding. Her eyes must give away her curiosity, Jimmy answering, “he fell.”

Jey suddenly punches him in the side of his head. “Ain’t that what you said when you and your boy was beating on your own fucking daughter?”

Solana swallows. Yes. That’s often what he said to cover up the result of their abuse.

Solana drops her hand and steps a bit closer to him, Roman not once moving or ripping his eyes away from them. It’s virtually impossible for Xavier to do anything to her, but she understands her husband is not willing to take any risks, regardless.

She ignores the weapons and items around her, no doubt intended for unspeakable acts of violence and torture. She just focuses on the man before her, taking in the fact that this is the last time she’ll ever stare into his dark eyes and have to look at his evil face.

“All—all I ever wanted….was for you to love me.” She hates the emotion that chunks up the back of her throat, making it a bit harder for her to speak. “But you never did, and you never will, and—and that’s okay.” She recalls one of the many powerful, profound quotes from her book, reciting it boldly and confidently. “Your inability to love me is not a reflection on my ability to be loved.” She’d like to say she witnesses some type of emotional reaction in her father at her powerful statement, but there’s nothing there.

There never was.

Stepping back, she takes one final look at him, accepting this is the end of this road. The end of all the hurt and pain he’s ever caused her. After tonight, it’s all over. “Goodbye, Dad.”

Solana is back by Roman, taking her hand in his as Xavier’s small, dark laughter draws her attention back to him.

“Didn’t you ever wonder how they bypassed the security system? Both times?”

Solana’s brows are furrowed, confusion dancing in her eyes. Before she can say anything, Roman barks a rough order to the twins, “gag him!”

One glance at him, and she sees something unfamiliar, something that looks strangely close to nervousness.

To fear.

“No,” she finds herself calling out, stopping Jey who was halfway close to doing just that, bandana in his right hand. “What—what are you talking about?”

“Solana, he’s just trying to fuck with your head.” She hears Roman, feels his slight tug on her sleeve as he tries to pull her away, but she also detects something else.

Avoidance.

Roman is intentionally trying to divert her away from this conversation, topic, whatever it is.

Xavier chuckles cruelly, coughing up a bit of blood. “I warned that bitch. I told her what would happen if she tried to take Wesley away from me.”

Now…now he has Solana’s full attention.

She steps toward him, asking again, “what are you t–talking about?”

“Solana, please—”

But, she continues to ignore Roman and instead focuses on whatever it is her father is about to drop on her, something she feels is about to change everything.

Xavier’s bloody smile is cruel and taunting as he reveals, “I was the one who ordered the hit on your mother.” And before she can even sit on that, another bomb is dropped. “And you.”

Solana staggers back, jerking away from Roman as he reaches to touch her. Her mouth is dropped, her heartbeat erratic. She all of a sudden feels dizzy, but it doesn’t stop her from asking again, “what—what did you just say?”

“Shut him up, Jey!”

“No!” Solana shouts both at her husband and his cousin. “I want to know!”

��Your mother was planning to take you and Wesley away from me, and truth be told, if she left Wesley and just took you, I probably wouldn’t have given a fuck. But no, she wanted both of her children. She was a problem, so I got rid of her.” Each word that leaves his mouth has Solana wanting to sink further and further into the ground. “The hit was for both of you, but of course, you fucking survived.” The venom in his voice and hatred in his eyes is almost palpable, further deepening the pain of this betrayal. “I refused to pay them the full amount since they botched the job and didn’t kill you, but that still left the balance for your mother….the balance you paid for me.” And with the most vile smile of all, he adds on coarsely, “who’d have thought a kid’s virginity would sell so high?”

And it’s that statement. That cruel, vindictive statement that breaks her.

Hand to her stomach, Solana almost collapses to the floor but Roman is behind her, catching her fall.

Now that she can focus on him, on anything other than the millions thoughts racing through her mind. Random facts and statements finally coming together, painting a horrific, grim picture.

The failure of the security system both times.

The failed pin entry of her mom’s shaking hands and two years later, Solana’s shaking hand, as they desperately tried to enter the panic room, only for it to flash a red rejection notice.

It was him the whole time.

He killed her mother. He was the one responsible for her rape.

All of it.

Emotions erupt to the surface as Solana tries to break from Roman’s embrace and lunge for her father.

“I hate you!” She screams, unable to think and see beyond her pain. “I fucking hate you!” She can’t stop trying to break Roman’s solid grip on her. She wants to hit him. Wants to stab him. Burn him. Anything and everything that can make him feel just a fraction of her agony. “How could you do that to me!” She cries, wanting, needing an answer. Needing to know why. “I was a child!” She’s never felt something so heavy, so painful. “I was your child!”

As her physical resolve breaks, more diminishes than anything, Solana feels Roman trying to guide her away.

But it’s a mistake, it’s a mistake because she uses that slice of an opening to break away from him and snatch one of the guns on a table, pointing it at her father’s head. But then, she’s not. She’s not because Roman is suddenly standing between her and her target.

Her resolve falters for a bit, as she shouts at him, “move!”

Jimmy’s furious voice calls out. “Man, let her do it, Roman!”

Roman’s gaze is fiery as he silences his cousin with a shout. “Shut up!” But just as quickly as he was enraged, his expression softens almost inhumanly quickly as he pleads, “Solana, listen to me—”

She’s not trying to hear it though. She can’t hear it. “He killed my mother! My mother!”

“I know,” his expression softens into something solemn and sympathetic. “But you don’t want to do this—“

She snaps, her fingers on the gun tightening, her grip firm and focused. “He needs to die!”

“And he will, I promise you that. Slowly. Gradually. In the agonizing way that he deserves, but that can only happen if you let me do this for you—”

Solana cries, shoulders dropping but her aim still intact. “He let them rape me.” Her body trembles, a combination of her heartache and inconsolable rage. “He took her from me! She was my mother!”

If not for the severity and all around heightened tensions, Solana would notice the heartbreaking and furious expressions of the twins, Bayely, and Naomi who now know the exact horror she has experienced. The reason for her disposition. The source of her trauma.

Roman, however, remains focused on de-escalating the situation. “I know, baby, but you’re not a killer, Solana, and I’m not about to let you become one.” If she was thinking straight, capable of thinking clearly in this moment, she’d know he’s only protecting her. Only trying to save her from the thing she told him not even a week ago she could never forgive herself for. Taking someone’s life. “Once you do this, there’s no turning back.”

Solana’s eyes shut as another round of tears makes its way to the surface, heavier and harder to manage with the gun in her hand.

Roman notices this and takes a tentative step forward. “Please, Solana.” His tone is almost desperate, borderline begging. “Give me the gun.”

Eyes still closed and with a weakness she hasn’t felt in years, Solana relents, loosening her grip, allowing Roman to take the gun that he quickly hands to Jey. He moves to catch her as she falls into his chest, sobbing again. Roman cradles her head and kisses the top of her hair while Jimmy and Jey move to jump Xavier, taking that opportunity to get blows in on the old man, both careful to avoid any that could be lethal.

It’s obvious this son of a bitch is in line for a world of suffering that will extend far past tonight.

“Oh, we finna take our time killing you, motherfucker.”

Everything sounds a bit distant. The sound of the twins yelling obscenities at the demon she called a father. Roman trying to comfort her, to settle her. It’s all too much. Too overwhelming. The crying settles into something sullen and solemn, silent tears streaming down her face as she murmurs against him, “I want to go home.”

The emotion is there, but her presence and awareness of everything is diminishing. Solana knows what’s coming, has experienced this state of separation, of dissociating.

She needs to get away.

Roman says something she can’t make out, and before she realizes it, there’s another set of arms around her. Bayley. Naomi is chatting with Roman, the only thing she’s able to make out,

‘Don’t leave her alone.’

Alone.

She’s not sure she’s ever felt that as strongly as she does at this moment.

________

It’s all such a blur.

Such a separate thing. Emotions separate from her. Emotions that are dark, heavy, confusing, overwhelming. Fleeting. There’s an oscillation of all the feelings. Tears that accompany heartache. Sobbing that accompanies grief. Nothing that arrives with nothing.

It’s a brutal, miserable experience of feeling the weight of the world but also the emptiness of the void.

It’s obvious that Naomi and Bayley don’t know how to help her, don’t know how to comfort her, just continue to sit with her, letting her cry when she needs to and scream when she has to. Even Dulce sits by her side, whimpering every so often and licking her.

It’s appreciated. So appreciated.

But….it’s not enough.

Losing her mother was heartbreaking. Losing her in the way she did, so violently and graphically was torture.

Being held down and gang raped by two grown men at twelve years old nearly killed her. They nearly killed her.

But, there’s something about finding out that her father, her biological father, was responsible for those two things that’s almost impossible to believe.

She knew her father was cruel.

She just didn’t know just how cruel until this very evening.

Escape.

Her mother was trying to escape, trying to make a better life for herself and her children. And he killed her for it.

Tried to kill Solana too, and when that didn’t work, he traded her virginity in exchange for payment.

Flashes. Glimpses. Images.

They’ve been hitting her nonstop since the truth came out. Playing in her mind like some kind of sick horror film. It’s torture. It’s painful. It’s unbearable.

It’s too much.

She places her hands on the bathroom counter, having finished using the bathroom after waking up yet again from night terrors.

Her eyes shut.

Solana is tired.

So so tired. Tired of the pain. Of the lies. Of the betrayal. Everything hurts. Everything feels so heavy. She tries to escape in sleep, but the memories haunt her and suddenly, she’s reliving it all, but now with the horrific knowledge that the first man who should have ever loved and protected her was responsible for her biggest traumas.

And it’s impossible to escape those flashes, those thoughts and flashbacks becoming more frequent and intrusive by the minute. She’s suffocating.

Drowning in her own head.

Drowning in her own body.

Solana’s eyes open and fall over to the shower where her razor would have been available if not for her earlier strength and ability to hand it and the brand new box of them over to Bayley and Naomi.

Just an hour or two ago, she was able to do that much. Able to resist that temptation and not break years of sobriety.

But, now…. now she can’t.

She doesn’t even want to.

That would only provide a temporary escape.

She’s just….just so tired.

She wants….needs something longer.

Something more permanent.

Unable to escape the mental anguish, Solana leans down and digs through a toiletries bag from the trip she hasn’t unpacked.

And she pulls out the bottle of sleeping pills.

Roman’s request from months ago returns, smacking into her.

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Her eyes water.

Roman….

Even with his lack of being honest with her, of somehow knowing but not telling her the truth, there’s never been a person that she’s loved more than him. Not since her mom.

It’s why she can’t call him. Can’t continue to burden him with having to deal with all her shit.

All she’s done since entering his life is make shit difficult. She’s done it with him. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey.

All of them.

They’ve had to adjust so much just for her, and for what? For her to end up right back where she started?

She can’t….she can’t do that to them again.

She can’t do that to Roman again.

She loves him too much for that, loves him too much to continue to hurt him.

She just….she just needs to remove herself from the equation.

Needs to remove herself from all of their lives.

Forever.

Shaking hands twist off the cap as she dumps a handful of pills into her trembling palm.

There’s the briefest second of a delay, a moment where she reconsiders, where she wonders if she’s making the right decision. But another flashback hits her, the feeling of the knife slicing through her mother’s lifeless body and entering Solana ripping her away from that reconsideration.

Another thought of Roman and her friends having to help her yet again.

Save her again.

She can’t do it anymore. She doesn’t want to do it anymore.

There is no saving her anymore.

This is the only way.

And she swallows, using the water bottle on the counter to force the excessive amount of pills down her throat. A brief glance at her reflection brings on another set of silent tears. Broken. Empty. There’s nothing left for her to do, no reason for her to exist anymore.

Not even bothering to put the pills away, Solana walks out of the bathroom and into the dark bedroom where Bayley is the first to ask, still sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, dedicated to staying awake for her ‘shift’, completely unaware of this being the last time they’ll interact. “Do you need something?”

Solana shakes her head and climbs back onto the bed. Grabbing her phone, ignoring the tears that blur her vision, she types out a simple text to the one person she’ll miss the most.

She’ll miss them all, but none more than him.

Solana: I’m sorry.

Sent and delivered, she locks her phone, placing it on the nightstand, closing her eyes.

Solana just wants to go to sleep.

And this time…..not wake up.

________

Rage.

Fury.

Wrath.

And any word synonymous to anger, yet none of them adequately describe what’s coursing all throughout Roman’s body. Years. It’s been years since he’s felt this much anger, held so much of it that he has a hard time thinking and feeling.

He’s incapable of escaping the sound of Solana’s sobbing, the way she literally fell apart in front of him, breaking before him.

And it’s all because of the son of a bitch currently underneath him on the receiving end of devastating blow after blow of Roman’s brass knuckled fists. How long he’s been hitting the old man is beyond him. Not long enough.

It’ll never be long enough.

Never painful enough.

Not for what he’s done.

A hand on his uninjured shoulder temporarily pulls him away from his newfound life mission to make this piece of shit feel every type of pain imaginable before he takes his last breath.

Roman’s roar bounces off the walls. “What!”

Jey looks unfazed by Roman’s irate tone and instead advises, “he’s unconscious, Uce. Let up or you gon kill him.”

That’s the fucking goal.

But not yet. Death is too sweet for Xavier to receive at this point.

Huffing and suddenly aware of all the energy expended as well as the blood splattered all over his clothes and face, Roman tosses the knuckles to the side and issues an order to Jey even while walking, refusing to acknowledge any appreciation for his warning, “let me know when Jimmy has them.”

Them.

Them being the two men who have no idea what kind of horror awaits them. Men whose names were tortured out of Xavier pretty easily by Roman.

Rapists.

Solana’s rapists.

Reaching the locker room in the back, Roman easily strips himself naked and steps in the shower, allowing the water to rain down his body, red mixing with clear and disappearing down the drain. Hands against the shower wall, he shuts his eyes.

He can’t escape the sound of Solana’s wails. He’s never heard or seen her so upset. Never wanted to. It’s the exact reason he settled on not telling her the truth, because he knew this would happen.

Knew this would destroy her.

It’s just the extent of the destruction that worries him.

Just how far back this has set her that has him feeling something he hasn’t felt in years but has now experienced twice tonight. Once when he saw the hand raised and gun lifted in Solana’s direction and now her breakdown.

Fear.

It has him scared.

And Roman doesn't know what to do with that emotion, doesn’t know how to handle it outside of beating the shit out of and torturing her father and rapists. But even that only does so much.

It doesn’t do enough, because she’s hurting, more than she probably ever has, and he can’t do shit about it.

Because making the fuckers who hurt her suffer doesn’t do shit for the pain she’s experiencing now.

And he hates that shit. Hates that she’s hurting and he can’t help her, take away that pain from her.

With all the frustration in his body, Roman slams his fist into the shower wall, forcing himself to calm down just enough to get cleaned up.

He uses a fresh set of clothes in the lockers to redress himself, redoing his bandages and using a towel to dry off his hair as best as possible.

But, it’s when Jey comes and seems to interfere with Roman starting his next round of torture, a thought of starting to skin the old man sounding more than desirable, that his frustration multiplies.

“Not now.”

Roman continues to walk when he feels Jey forcefully grab his arm, forcing him to turn around. Roman looks at his hand and then back at Jey. “Have you lost—”

“Roman.”

But, it’s the tone that stops the Head of the Table from issuing out his threat. In all the years he’s known Jey, he’s never heard his cousin use such a heavy, spooked tone.

“What?” There’s hesitation, and that only pisses Roman off. “What!”

Jey swallows, answering with an almost pained countenance. “Solana’s at the hospital.” Jey’s frown, sadness seeped and imbued into his usual gregarious voice. “She tried to kill herself, Roman.”

________

Three.

There’s now been three separate occurrences in a single day that have caused Roman to experience the emotion most unfamiliar to him.

Fear.

And this third time, it’s the strongest it’s ever been as he marches into the hospital floor where he was informed she was.

“Where is she!”

And when his gaze lands on a clearly disturbed and crying Naomi and Bayley, the anger only grows as he moves over to them. “What the fuck happened!” Roman doesn’t give them time to respond, too consumed with his anger that’s truly a mask hiding his fear. “Why weren’t you watching her! I fucking told you to watch her!”

Bayley is the first to shoot up from her chair, eyes watery but scowl intact. “We were! She—”

But, he’s not trying to hear shit what she has to say. Not when they’ve failed him in the worst way possible. “Obviously you fucking weren’t because we’re standing in a goddamn hosptal–”

Jimmy, who Roman had completely forgotten came along with him, Jey as well, does his best to diffuse the situation, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roman, you need to calm—”

But the Head of the Table is too far gone, harshly shrugging off his cousin’s innocent attempt at calming him down. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Roman removes himself from their presence, not even wanting to see these useless bitches as he calls out once again. “Where is she!”

It’s only then he sees a blonde woman walk out from the back, dressed in a white coat, clipboard in hand. She looks irritated which only pisses him off because how the fuck do you work at a fucking hospital and look annoyed. But, when she sees him, or maybe sees how irate he is, her gaze softens.

She steps in his direction as Roman also steps toward her, putting some distance between himself and the group. “Mr. Reigns, can—”

“Where is my wife?” It’s the same question he will keep asking until it no longer needs to be asked because he’s taken to her.

The woman, doctor, probably, frowns, motioning to the back. “Can we talk in private?”

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose, doing his best not to violate his code of never putting his hands on a woman. But, this bitch is really fucking pushing it.

He just wants to see Solana.

He needs to see her.

“You’ve got three fucking seconds to take me—”

She scoffs, relenting and “Fine, we’ll do it here. Your wife is in recovery. We were able to successfully pump her stomach, but we had to sedate her because she was inconsolable upon waking up. I suspect she’s in the midst of some sort of psychotic episode.”

There’s so much in that sentence to process. Roman doesn’t even know where to begin to dissect it, so he starts with the part that pisses him off the most. “She tried to overdose on pills and your solution was to put more fucking medicine in her?”

The doctor, however, seems to show no sign of backing down. “My patient needed to be stabilized, so I stabilized her.” Her voice softens a bit as she adds, not necessarily as something to throw in his face but rather an important note he shouldn’t ignore. “If you had seen how upset she was, you would have understood.”

Roman, however, can’t think about that. Can’t think about how upset and terrified Solana must have been. Somehow a level calmer, he expresses once again, “I want to see her.”

“I understand, but—”

Right away, Roman knows his brief respite from level 10 rage is about to be broken by whatever she’s about to say. “What?”

She takes a deep breath, informing, “I’m putting her on a 5250 hold.”

Roman looks from side to side. “What the fuck does that mean?”

There’s no sign of hesitation as she explains, “it means I’m keeping her here in the hospital for two weeks on a legally mandated psychiatric hold.”

Yeah….he was absolutely right.

Level fucking 10.

“Like hell you are!” Roman is seeing red. Who in the flying fuck does this bitch think she is to say Solana is staying in the hospital? “She’s coming home with me. Tonight. The minute she fucking wakes up.”

And that’s a fact.

“How much do you know about Solana’s psychiatric history?” A lot, and that’s why he knows she doesn’t need to stay here in this forbidding, sterile place. She needs to be home with him so he can take care of her. “This is her second suicide attempt. Now, I don’t know what the hell happened to trigger this psychotic break, but your wife is severely and actively suicidal.” She lowers her voice, softly and almost sympathetically sharing with him so only he can hear. “She was inconsolable because she was upset we saved her life. She was upset she was still alive.”

That’s it.

The thing that makes Roman’s anger crumble almost entirely.

He wanted to believe it was a mistake, an accident of some sort. Didn’t want to believe that she truly intended to take her life tonight.

But this woman has no reason to lie, and beyond that, he’s innately adept at deciphering when someone is lying and when they’re being truthful.

She’s not lying.

Solana wanted to die.

Solana wanted to actually die.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

At all.

The crack in his harsh exterior must be evident, because the doctor continues to try to convince him what he now knows probably is the right thing to do. “You can get her to sign an AMA and take her home, but I guarantee you that she’ll end up right back in this hospital for another attempt…..and the next time might be too late.”

He can’t.

Roman can’t lose her. He can’t even let himself think about what he would do if he lost her.

Especially if it was because of her own actions.

She continues, desperate, “let us get her stabilized. On a medication regimen. As I said, this presents as a brief psychotic episode, which we can help her manage and treat but only if you let us keep her here to monitor her.”

Roman tilts his head back, eyes closed as he scratches his beard. There’s an unfamiliar weight in his chest and stomach at the thought of having to leave this hospital tonight without Solana. But this isn’t about what he wants, it’s about what’s best for Solana.

It’s about what she needs, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to make sure she gets the help she needs.

“Jey.” His cousin steps up, previously keeping a respectful distance. “Get with security. I don’t want a son of a bitch that’s not Bloodline or Bloodline vetted to step foot on this floor while she’s here.”

Jey nods. “You got it.”

Roman overhears footsteps followed by the woman speaking again, “Thank you.” She takes another deep breath and informs, “Now, it’s standard practice that we not allow visitors the first couple days—“

And just like that, the anger has returned, even more intense now that he knows Solana isn’t getting released tonight. Or anytime soon. “I don’t give a fuck about your standard practice—”

Bayley’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, Roman aware that the remaining group has stepped forward, obviously wanting to be aware of the plan and what happens now. “Roman, can you please just let Dr. Stratus do her fucking job? This isn’t about—”

Bayley, however, chose the wrong time to fuck with him. Because any filter he ever acquired because of Solana certainly won’t be used until she’s back home, with him, where she belongs. “Like you were supposed to? Solana wouldn’t be here if you were watching her like I fucking told you to! This is your fault!”

There’s a small, minute part of him that feels bad when he sees the devastation on Bayley’s face, but it’s short lived, vastly overpowered by his tremendous anger.

And fear.

Bayley is quick with the response though, ready and willing to aim just as low as he is. “Fuck you, Roman! You don’t get to blame this on us! You should have fucking told her! You had no right to keep the truth from her! She’s here because of you!”

The dark irony in her accusation is that It’s nothing he doesn’t already know.

Nothing he doesn’t already hate himself for.

Bayley is absolutely right.

This absolutely is on him.

His attempts to save her only damned her.

“Stop it! Both of ya’ll! This don’t do shit to help, and Solana wouldn’t want ya’ll fighting!” Jimmy suddenly jumps in, moving between the two highly emotional people, even if both are only expressing it as anger. He turns to his cousin first, as Naomi tries to pull Bayley away, also working to de-escalate an already tense situation. “Look, Uce, I know you want to see her, but—”

“I’m not leaving without seeing her.” Roman’s gaze is on his cousin but it’s directed toward the doctor who either takes some type of mercy on him or recognizes that Roman will literally kill everyone who gets in his way if she doesn’t give in to his demand, because she’s switching her tune.

“A couple of minutes,” she relents. “But only you.”

Roman doesn’t care about the rest of them anyway. They can see her whenever they fucking see her.

He’s the one who needs to see her.

But, it’s in seeing her that a part of him wishes he didn’t. Because this isn’t right. She shouldn’t be laid up like this, unconscious, pale, such a sad expression on her sleeping face.

He hasn’t seen her like this since that first night he overheard and woke her up from her nightmare.

A nightmare.

He’d give anything for that to be the case again.

“I can’t lose you, Solana.” It's the first thing to leave his mouth, a plea and prayer. There’s nothing but vulnerability in his voice, and he doesn’t give a fuck. He’ll be as vulnerable as he needs to be for her. He’ll do anything for her. “I need you. I told you that, but I don’t think you understand how badly I need you.”

If there was any doubt before, it’s completely destroyed now. He doesn’t know how honest or comfortable he could be outside of these four walls, if it wasn’t just the two of them, but right now, with nothing but her steady breathing and rhythmic beating of the machines she’s plugged up to, he’ll pour his heart out.

“You can’t leave me, alright?” Roman’s hand moves to her forehead, thumb caressing her skin that feels too cold, doesn’t feel like her. “I don’t care what it takes, what you need, what I have to fucking do, but I need you to get better, and I’ll do anything to help you.”

And he will. It’s why despite how much he hates this notion of having to leave her, the almost anxiety he has at having to leave tonight without her in his arms, he’ll do it. He’ll do it because he just wants her to be happy.

She deserves that, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it to her.

His voice is thick with emotion. “I just need you to stay with me, baby, okay?” Not being able to see her pretty brown eyes, the curl of her full lips as she smiles, his favorite fucking thing in the world, it’s torture.

He never wants to see her like this again.

He can’t.

He won’t.

Roman kisses her forehead and forces himself to walk out of the hospital room, one of the hardest departures he’s ever had to do. Dr. Stratus is waiting outside the door, and just like that, the infamous stoic, unreadable expression is back.

With Solana, he’s just Roman.

But for everyone else, he’s the Tribal Chief.

There is no other option.

“No men on her care team. Women only.” If she’s going to be here, he’s going to make sure she

has everything she needs. “I want daily updates. Anything happens or changes with her status at all, I want to know. You understand me?”

Dr. Stratus must have also read the section in Solana’s medical records that alludes to her sexual trauma, because she doesn’t object. “Understood.” She swallows, bringing the medical chart to her chest. “You know…I head an inpatient women’s psychiatric clinic about an hour out. It’s not uncommon for patients like your wife to transition there following dis—”

“You can keep her on your two week hold, but she’s coming home with me as soon as that’s up. Try and get in my way, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

She’s wise to not push, smart to not try to stop him from leaving, because as far as Roman is concerned, there’s nothing and no one he’ll stop short from torturing, killing, and maiming if they try to get in his way of being with Solana.

He can’t live without her.

He loves her too much to live without her.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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tainsan · 1 year ago

Text

misfits (college!ateez x reader)

When your world comes crashing down, the only people who are able to comfort you are the notorious group, Ateez. You’ve heard rumour after rumour about the eight males who are ice cold, yet for some reason, they are the warmest people you know.

Please read me: {hello! so finally i have wrote enough for me to release the first chapter and i really hope it is good enough for the lovely people who have been patiently waiting. there will be more chapters to come in the future so please do look forward to them! just so you all know there is a few trigger warnings i have to go through so just in case you are uncomfortable with certain subjects to read with caution and with your own comfort in mind. at the start of every chapter i will put the warnings that correlate with the said chapter. in this story there are topics of swearing, depression, anxiety, ptsd, suicide, negelection and mental abuse. so if you are not comfortable reading these please either avoid this story or read with extreme caution. your wellbeing is more important than anything.

Now like i said in my previous post, this is going to be a poly!ateez story so hence there will be future smut and suggestive themes (which i will also put in the warnings before the chapter starts) but the message in the story is very much about past trauma and finding people who can help, heal and love you despite your imperfections.

With that all said! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of ‘Misfits’ and thank you kindly for waiting.

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

with thanks to @musicdork and @moraxology for the help and ideas shared with me. thank you <3

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

Misfits, Chapter 1

⇢ masterlist ⇠

⇢ next chapter

warnings: anxiety attack, swearing, mentions of a house fire.

word count: 8.8k

Heart dropping to your stomach, you attempt to make sense of the words that are displayed on the small illuminating screen sat in front of you. Devastation hits you like a ton of bricks as you realise once again, it feels like the world is trying to punish you. Reading over the email once again, you let out an exasperated groan and let your head fall down onto your arms relaxing on the table.

“You’re homeless?” Your best friend almost screeches, scanning over the email present on your small laptop screen.

“Okay a little louder Jisung and the aliens on the Saturn will fucking hear you,” You react, your voice muffled by your clothes.

“What happened? I thought your place was in one of the nicer areas?”

Looking up from the desk, you see Jisung peering at you with a concerned expression.

“Do you remember those new tenants that moved in below me?” you ask, causing Jisung to nod his head, "Well they accidentally started a fire, and it burnt down half of the place because the owners weren’t smart enough to install fire hydrants around the residence.

“Isn’t it illegal to not have designated fire hydrants in a building?”

“Probably, I mean that’s what I get for going for the cheapest available housing I could find, they say it's going to take at least a year to repair the damage.”

"Are all of your belongings okay?"

"Not really, I managed to save most things like my books and some clothes but everything else is burnt. They say they are going to give me some money back for the damage, but I doubt it’ll be much."

"Then where are you staying now?"

"Yeji said I could stay with her for a few days, but she has a roommate moving in soon, so I have to get out before the end of this week."

"You have to start looking for a place to live __, I wish I could help you,"

Jisung lives with his boyfriend and friends in great student accommodation, there are only four rooms, yet they manage to fit eight grown men in there. Sadly, there's simply not enough space for another person.

“I’m aware of that, but all the school properties are full, and I’ve seen no flyers from people searching for roommates. There’s no way I'm looking for housing outside of the area, I would have to sell both my kidneys to afford a month's worth of rent. This apartment was the only place that was in my budget if I didn't want a roommate. At this point, I should probably start looking for a nice cosy bridge to live under.”

Jisung lets out a stifled laugh before quickly covering his mouth realising the two of you are residing in a library. Being in a secluded area, noise isn’t really a problem, yet three other people are sitting near you, resting on the opposite side of the large wooden table. Two huddled next to each other, sharing a laptop, likely watching YouTube and one with striking blonde hair resting his head on his arms, undoubtedly sleeping.

“How many days until you have to move out?” Jisung inquires, laying his head on his hand and gazing at you.

“Uh, I think like a week,”

“Oh, so it’s not like you have to move out right now,” your best friend replies, a calm smile covering his features.

“Yeah, but I doubt that somebody is abruptly going to need a roommate out of nowhere,”

Then, you hear rustling, then suddenly the guy who was sleeping on your table abruptly stands up, grabs his things, and rushes out of the library.

“Probably had a nightmare or something,” Jisung chuckles, lighting up your mood.

“When’s your next lesson?” You ask, hoping he doesn't have to leave too soon.

Observing as Jisung whips out his phone and looks at the time, he lets out a sigh.

“Starts in seven minutes, it takes like five minutes to walk there. I better get going,” Jisung replies, grabbing his books and laptop.

“Must you leave so soon? You can’t leave me here to tutor for three hours straight.” You let out a fake cry and hang onto his arm, pleading for him to stay.

“You're the one who wanted the extra credit, don't blame me!”

Bickering for a minute more, you eventually let Jisung get to his class, the two others across the table departing as well, leaving you alone.

Grumbling to yourself, you wonder why you even offered to tutor people, the extra credit is little to nothing. Alas, it’s too late to back out now as you have two people arriving soon. Typically, you only take people who you know personally, but Jisung’s boyfriend, Minho, said two of his classmates requested him to ask you to tutor, telling him they really needed assistance in maths. You hope they are pleasant because you are not about to be spending the next three hours with two arseholes.

You also typically only take one person at a time but due to your current tight schedule, you decided to just do two at once. You need the time later to look for new places to live anyway. The unknown two needed teaching in the same subject at least, works out fine.

Returning to your laptop you start typing, trying to finish as much of your lab report as you can before they show up.

“No Yeosang said she was around this corner.”

A hushed voice breaks you out of your concentration, yet you pay no interest and hurriedly get back to typing.

“You’re __ right?” A monotone voice speaks out from your left.

You turn upon hearing your name and see a guy standing next to where you are sitting. Quickly you scan over his face, noticing the way his cheeks display small dimples as his face shifts and the slit in one of his eyebrows.

“I’m San, Minho told you about us, right?”

Noting the way he said ‘us’, you turn fully backwards and see a noticeably built man standing by San, his face holding little to no emotion as he stares blankly towards you. In your mind, you hope these aren’t the two you are tutoring, noticing how intimidating their presence is.

“We are here for tutoring lessons,” the unnamed person speaks, and you curse upon your luck.

“Oh right, you can take a seat where you’d like.”

You mentally cuss out Minho for not informing you about how intense and handsome his classmates were, you let out a scoff under your breath as you start to pull out your maths textbooks.

“So, what were your guy's names, I’m not too good with names so if I forget, please don't take it personally,” you shyly confess, hoping they are not going to take it the wrong way. You detect the way some sort of stunned expression goes across their faces, but it disappears as soon as it had appeared.

“I’m Choi San, good to meet you.” San nods in your direction, his emotions still unreadable, a subtle glare still present along his features.

“San, I see. You too,” You mumble, slightly scared by his strong character. You attempt a small smile and shake his hand, trying to ignore the way you feel his eyes boring into your skull. Moving your attention to the man sitting next to him, you smile gently, noticing the way his cheeks are dusted with a light pink colour.

“Choi Jongho,” He reaches out his hand and you gladly take it, feeling slightly less intimidated by the seemingly kinder man.

Replying with your own name, you realise they already knew it, making you curse yourself for the sheer awkwardness emitting from your body as you notice Jongho and San are neither looking at you.

Slightly glancing up at you, San notices your flustered state and a faint smile ghosts his face.

Shaking off your clumsiness rapidly, you start to focus on the task at hand.

“So, what are you two looking to go over today?” you ask, opening your notebook that was conveniently placed in front of you. What you don’t expect is Jongho and San immediately look at each other with wide eyes, almost as if they are taken aback by the question.

“You guys don’t know what you want to go over?”

“No, sorry, we have been having problems with our two recent algebra assignments.” Jongho replies, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly as he ruffles his black hair.

“Okay then,” you answer, a little puzzled at the two's sudden and strange gestures, yet you pay no mind to it as you reach into your backpack to grab your mathematics textbook. You’ve seen much stranger things in this college anyway.

When you proceed with the session you are surprised by the two men sitting in front of you. Although being very intimidating, the two are very good listeners and attentive to everything you say or do. Writing notes and nodding at almost every word you say. After an extensive explanation, you let Jongho and San try to solve a practice question. During this time, you take the time to admire the two in front of you. You can see they are extremely close by the way their bodies face each other naturally, and the way they look at each other. Meanwhile, you can’t help but wonder why you haven't seen them on campus before. Certainly, you would've heard or seen something about these two very good-looking men, knowing how much the people here like to gossip. Well after all, you have never been one for gossip and fangirling over the popular campus heartthrobs. Brushing your thoughts to the side, you start to read over the same page for the fifth time.

After the second hour, it intrigues you how smart they are, only needing you to once go over something and they already have the answer or even occasionally you swear you see one of them write an answer without you describing how to find it. Perhaps they are fast learners? Due to the fact, they are so quick, it only takes two of the three hours for you to cover everything they wished to go over, and their assignments are almost finished, just needing the final touches.

"There we go,” you exclaim, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a content groan as you let your back straighten up, "if you need future help, you can always call me." Even though it’s perhaps pretentious to offer this to such tough guys, you’re happy to be able to have such good students who actually listen. Unlike your last session which you spent way too many hours on.

Jongho looks up from his laptop with a wide eye look, "that’d be helpful,"

"Can you take my number?" San holds his hand open, expecting your phone and you are shocked at his utter forwardness. Even though you know it’s not intended in a flirtatious way, your heart quickens at the gesture, never having been asked for your number before.

Passing your phone to the male in front of you, you notice San observing the Sanrio stickers stuck to the back of it. The male lets out a short burst of air through his nose, and you don’t know whether he’s mocking you or scoffing. As you look at him to analyse his reaction, you see a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but it doesn’t seem in a taunting way. You continue staring at him as he puts his number into your phone.

Unexpectedly he looks up and straight into your investigating eyes, catching you by surprise, immediately looking away from him and at the open book in front of you pretending to read it, even though you know he knows you have already read over the page multiple times in the past ten minutes.

“Wait, what time is it?" Jongho asks San. Watching San pull out his phone, you see a glimpse of his phone case, it looks something like a character, but you can’t see it as he places his phone face up on the table.

"Quarter to twelve," San responds, his phone screen lighting up for a split second, you manage to catch a quick sight of his lock screen. It appears to be a group photo, with numerous faces smiling brightly at the camera. So, they have more friends.

"We have about thirty minutes till ecology, do you want to go to the canteen?" Jongho questions as he begins to put his belongings into his bag.

"I could use a snack,” San answers, stretching back into the chair, his arms above his head just as you did earlier.

"Coming with us?" Jongho asks as he stands up from his chair and pushes it back beneath the table.

Bewildered by the question, you wonder as to why they want you to come when they have been nothing but distant this entire time. Glancing back at your unfinished lab report displayed on your laptop, you feel conflicted. Yet a break from the tedious work would be rather nice. There's no harm in pulling another all-nighter.

"I could also do with something to eat," Your smile is bright as you stuff your laptop into your bag, happy to have a reason to escape the tedious work on the small screen of your laptop.

It is a rather fast walk to the canteen; it is conveniently on the same wing as the library. Expecting the canteen to be full to the brim of students getting lunch, you’re surprised to see the canteen completely empty. You are rather pleased with the serenity of the canteen, feeling at ease that there are no judging eyes watching your every move. Pacing over to the cooled section of food, your footsteps echo in the large room, then you notice San and Jongho trailing after you, looking quite lost.

"Have you guys never been to the canteen before or something?" You inquire, chuckling at their antics before grabbing a carton of banana milk and an apple.

"It's not particularly our scene, we eat our meals at our place." San answers, staring down at the banana milk in your hand. So, they live together, it makes sense seeing how close they are.

“You guys don't live in student buildings?” You question, that does explain why you've never seen them around, knowing most people who reside in the student dorms. You resume walking towards a table to sit, you grab two more banana milk before sitting down and popping a straw into your drink.

"No, we live near the new park, Eastwood Drive," Jongho replies.

This information almost makes you spit out your drink. Eastwood is not only part of a huge real estate area but one of the richest areas near our school. Absolutely no students would be able to afford that. It's an area full of houses like mansions or condos bigger than a regular house.

"Are you okay?" Jongho asks, hurriedly rushing to your side and patting your back, San chuckles at the scene and passes you a bottle of water from his seat.

"Yes, I'm fine," You say between coughs, "thank you," you take a gulp of water from the bottle before handing it back to him.

"Sorry it's just, how on earth do you afford that house there's no way you guys just have it. Did you have to sell your soul to the devil or something?"

Both males let out soft laughs and for the first time you see something other than scowls on their faces, instead replaced by gentle amusement.

"No, we didn't, one of our roommates' mothers is the owner of the real estate and she lets us live there," San answers your question.

"We do still have to pay rent, which is above average, but it's not anything like the rent we would have to pay if we were actually living there," Jongho adds, "plus we have quite a few roommates, so it's spread out pretty evenly." So, they have multiple roommates.

"I see," you hum as you let the information in. Of course, they have several roommates, the house is big enough for ten people, most likely.

"And you?" Jongho questions looking at you. His expression is back to his resting face, until he realises his question, eyes going wide he continues, “not in a creepy, I'm sorry please don't take it the wrong way!" he rambles on.

Laughing out, you wave your hands in a friendly way to dismiss his thoughts.

"No no, it's okay," you chuckle, not really sure how to explain to them that your house was recently made into a fresh stock of charcoal.

“It's kind of complicated I'll be honest," you start, San and Jongho’s expressions twitch in curiosity, "Well I was living at Coast Lane,"

"Oh, the one near the shopping centre?" Jongho inquires. You nod your head back in confirmation.

"Wait but wasn't that place burnt down a few days ago?" San asks, looking at Jongho and then back at you with a worried look. Their hearts fill with worry for you.

"Yep," you say, popping the p at the end, "that's why I said I was living," you say looking down, chucking dryly.

"Where are you living now then?" San asks, his voice laced with something similar to worry.

"I'm staying at a friend's house, but they are getting a new roommate at the end of this week, so I need to move out by then."

"Have you found anywhere to live yet?" Jongho questions, looking sorrowful. You are surprised by the amount of worry you suddenly feel from San and Jongho. However, you shake your head as 'no' and proceed to take another sip of your drink.

"I have an idea." San abruptly says standing up from his chair, catching your and Jongho's attention, "Excuse me I have to talk to someone, Jongho. Joong."

Jongho's eyes light up with some sort of awareness and he also rapidly stands from his chair, leaving you even more confused, unsure where the sudden energy comes from, you also wonder who the fuck 'Joong' is and why do they need to see him so suddenly.

"See you soon, __.” Jongho’s smile is warm and contagious, he then turns to leave with the taller man.

"Wait, guys!” You exclaim, "here," you hand them both a cartoon of banana milk that you grabbed earlier. "Drink these, you can't focus if you're dehydrated, " you say, heat rising up from your chest.

Both of the men look at you shocked at the kind gesture, surprised someone actually cares about their well-being. Giving you a thank you, the two men leave with red subtly covering their cheeks, both trying to immediately force it away before someone sees them with a giddy expression.

----

"Then they just stood up and left," You replay the events from earlier today to Jisung, who is sipping on a mojito. After the busy day you both shared, Jisung and you decided to go to a bar that recently opened not too far from campus. It is small and cosy, not too full of people, mostly students from your school rewinding from the day, just like you.

"Psycho behaviour," Jisung jokes whilst you take a sip of your drink. Laughing, you push Jisung's arm gently.

"I don't know, they were certainly intimidating but I could tell they were okay people," you exclaim truthfully. If you said that the three hours you spent with the two weren't pleasant you’d be lying.

"Do you have a crush on them or something?" Jisung inquires, rather loudly, getting far too excited. Hoping that no one heard him through the low jazz music resounding in the small bar, you quieten down your best friend quickly by covering his mouth with your free hand.

"Ji the entire bar does not need to know about my personal endeavours, and no I do not have a crush on them, they are just simply cute," you say exasperated.

“So, you do find them cute! The last time you had a crush as back in high school, this is big news,”

“There is no news dumbass, they are just cute. I find kittens cute, and I don’t want to date them.”

Jisung’s face contorts into a mixture of disgust and humour.

"Wait, what are their names?" Jisung questions his voice back to a reasonable volume.

"Choi San and Choi Jongho, I've never even heard of them, to be honest. You'd think I would've seen these handsome men bef, what is with that look on your face?" you stop your ramble as you see the very obviously shocked look on Jisung's face.

"Are you fucking serious?" Jisung says slowly.

Confused, you simply answer, "yeah they needed help with maths. it was your boyfriend who set the tutor session up."

"Yeah, because they probably threatened him?" Jisung says tensing up.

"What do you mean threatened, they were huge sweethearts," you say amused at Jisung. Your laughing momentarily halts when you see the serious look on Jisung's small face.

"What is it?"

"___, Choi San and Choi Jongho are part of that group."

Your baffled expression remains on your features, clearly unfazed by this information.

"What is that like a cult or something?" you joke.

"Girl, are you living under a fucking rock? Ateez, the group called Ateez. The super scary ones practically haunt this school. I'm surprised they talked to Minho. I'm pretty sure he's going to be scarred now."

Slowly but surely, your brain starts to put things into place.

"Wait, that group Sola told us about?”

As Jisung confirms your question, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. A few months ago, you had been told by some classmates about them briefly, they were talking rather loudly about them. Apparently, they had done some terrible things when they were in high school then just disappeared for a few years. Most people thought they dropped out or moved abroad. The year they returned, they started this university out of nowhere together and have been a notorious group ever since, being known for staying foul and bitter towards everyone except themselves. Yet, nobody seems to know the reason for their ice-cold hearts. You never really bothered to keep up with the rumours or gossip, it wasn’t necessary for you to know, however you start to think maybe you should pay more attention due to your recent interaction with two of the people in the group.

"But they were nice?" your question, more to yourself than to Jisung.

"I don't know about you, but you probably got the wrong people."

You don't believe Jisung is lying but at the same time… The two men you had tutored earlier today were definitely not members of the notorious group.

Surely not.

Yes, they were intimidating, but nowhere near as bad as anything people say about them. From what you've heard about the group, they are cold, heartless, selfish, and miserable. Staying only in the group of eight, others not even daring to look them in the eyes as they pass them.

"If they were the people that you were tutoring yesterday, you may have gotten yourself into something you can't get out of. They have hundreds of fangirls, who are very possessive over them and people who want them dead. I don’t know of a single person who is fond of them. It’s best if you stay far away from them." Jisung says with a nervous expression.

Unexpectedly, his phone lights up and you see Minho's caller ID appear. Jisung glances back up at you with a questioning look, requesting if he can take it.

"Go ahead," you push your smile and watch as he leaves to find a quiet place.

Your heart beats heavily against your chest and you feel your throat tighten. ‘Come on’ you think, this isn't the best place for you to have an anxiety attack. Possibly, it's that the new information is far too overwhelming. You are barely keeping up with your classes, your apartment just burnt down, and now you’re somewhat engaged with an apparently dangerous group that has no good stories. Feeling your breathing getting jagged and your heart getting heavier by the second, you attempt to focus on your breathing. Trying to remember the breathing exercises your mother taught you when you were younger, you attempt breathing in deeply, but it doesn't work, leaving you to breathe in and out in a fast manner. It's okay, it's okay. You repeat yourself, in an attempt to comfort yourself, but your brain is yelling 'it's not okay, look how stupid you've been and got yourself into a senseless situation again. Fucking idiot'. You put your head in your hands and start gently rocking on the barstool, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. Unexpectedly, a presence appears next to you and before you know it, their warm hand is rubbing up and down your back in a soothing manner.

"Shh it's okay, it's all going to be okay." a deep voice speaks from your right. You don't care to look up, only basking in the way the figure's hand caresses your back in a comforting way. To your surprise, it works miracles. Your breathing is back to a reasonable state within the next minute. Only then do you look up from your hands, your eyes lock with a beautiful man. He wears a comforting smile, his eyes full of sympathy and something else you can't quite put your finger on, his hand not slowing on your back. Trying to smile back at him, you wipe the tears you didn't even know had fallen, with the sleeves of your sweatshirt before regaining the words to speak.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you say, abruptly embarrassed that a very handsome man just had to see a small breakdown of yours.

"It's perfectly okay. I've had enough anxiety attacks to know you can't control where you have them." the man admits, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile on his face. The voice of the man is deep, yet soft, making you feel awfully relaxed.

"You have anxiety?" you ask, sniffling your nose.

The man chuckles and looks down at his hands, "longer than I can remember, yeah," he looks back up at you, "rubbing my back is how my friends comfort me, so I hope it somewhat worked for you too."

"It worked amazingly, it's actually how my mother used to comfort me," you express, still slightly ashamed to be sharing this information with a stranger, let alone such a good-looking one. Yet knowing he goes through the same things as you, comforts you more than you realise. The male looks around him, almost as if he’s worried someone will see him, he then looks back down to your smaller figure which is closer to him than he remembered. Clearing his throat, he steps away a little bit, concerned you would feel uncomfortable with the closeness of your bodies.

“I do need to go now, but it was nice to meet you," The man says whilst leaving the barstool to your right. Not sure why, but you feel sad that he has to leave so soon. Feeling so relaxed around a stranger has you shocked, wishing you could stay with this unknown feeling.

"Thank you," you say, grateful to have him there for you.

"Anytime.”

"I’ll see you around." You return his smile.

Nodding his head, he gives one last smile before departing the bar's exit, a growing smile adorning his features as he exits the bar.

“Hey I’m back.”

Whipping your head to the left, you see Jisung sitting back in his stool. Opening your mouth to tell him about what just happened, you attempt to get the words out but for some reason, you are unable to find the words. Not wanting to worry your best friend with your sudden onset anxiety attack, you decide to stay quiet.

What are these unexplainable encounters you've been having with handsome men recently?

----

Climbing over bags and coats, you find a seat in a calmer area of the stadium you just arrived at. Spotting Minho in the field doing some warm-ups with his team, you feel relaxed to see someone you know. When he sees you, he waves happily. Smiling, you reach for your phone to quickly text Jisung asking where he is. All of a sudden, a rush of cold air gets swept in by the wind, causing you to freeze up. Never liking the cold, you debate heavily at this moment whether you should just leave. However, you travelled all the way from Yeji’s to here in the cold. It seems like a waste to just go back, even if it freezes you to death to stay. After all, you need to support Minho, him being one of your only friends, for the football game. Jisung is supposed to be joining you but you’re sure he's busy picking out a cute outfit to swoon Minho.

Over the past few days Jisung has been trying to teach you the names of Ateez so you know to run if they approach you. Seemingly stupid, but you do need fewer distractions in the hope to graduate with honours. From what Jisung has told you, there are eight members, and they are all of similar age, the youngest being in the same classes as he managed to skip a year due to him exceeding the level of people his age. However, Jisung teaching you their names doesn’t really stick to you, never being good at names it doesn’t help that you don’t know what they look like. It would be much easier learning their names if you actually had photos so you can put a name to a face, but of course they don’t have Instagram accounts, and if they saw people taking photos of them, they’d likely murder you on the spot. Or that’s what Jisung says.

You are suddenly brought out of your thoughts when a voice sounds in your ears.

“Could I sit here?” a soft, yet deep captivating voice speaks out.

Curiously, you look to your left to see who the owner of the voice is. Surprisingly, you see a blonde male with a mask covering his face. He is standing next to the seat where you have placed your bag, and you realise he is asking for the seat.

“Oh yes, of course, sorry,” you hurriedly grab your bag and place it between your legs, allowing the male to take a place next to you.

“Thank you,” he says, a very small smile on his lips. When he sits down, he takes off his mask, and you glance at him one more time, taking in his visuals. With his fluffy hair and red tinted cheeks and a small mark of pink next to one of his eyes, he is truly a work of art. Yet, for some reason, you can't help but feel like you've seen him before.

“I'm sorry have I met you before, you seem really familiar?” you ask inquisitively, not being able to match a name to a face.

“We may have run into each other once or twice,” the blonde male puts his hand out for a handshake.

Gladly taking his hand in yours, you shake with a small smile on your face.

“It is a small world, I'm __.”

The male takes his hand away and back into his coat pocket, shivering in the icy air.

“Are you Jisung's girlfriend?” he questions.

Rolling your eyes, slightly annoyed at the question, you go to answer. It has been thousands of times that people have asked about your and Jisung's relationship, mistaking you for a couple and not just a couple of friends. After a while it gets rather irritating, the question being asked countless amounts of times.

"No, we aren't, we are just best friends, I'm pretty sure Jisung came out as gay like two years ago. Plus, he's literally dating the quarterback, Lee Minho." you chuckle slightly.

"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to offend you in any way."

"No! It's really okay, it's just I get asked a lot, so it becomes annoying after a while. I mean look at Jisung, he has baby girl written all over him."

“Cold?” he questions.

The blondie next to you lets out a small chuckle acknowledging the man you are always with isn’t your boyfriend.

Sensing a gaze on you, you turn back to the blonde male whose eyes are looking at the goosebumps on your exposed arms.

“I probably should’ve brought at least a jumper. I've been so wrapped up with exams and tutoring I’ve been forgetting everything,” you say, laughing slightly, embarrassed that you went outside wearing just a t-shirt in the middle of November.

The male lets out a laugh before speaking, “it’s okay, I understand. If I’m being honest, I've also been having so much struggle with studying, my stress is all over the place.” He wonders for a second why he even shared this with you, concerned for a second you will see him in a bad light.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” you contemplate for a moment, “Look I have these if you want,” reaching into your pocket, you grab some rescue drops. “These help me a lot,”

You place the small bottle in his hand, and a giant smile covers his face. “What? I’ve actually been looking for these everywhere and I can never find them! They’ve been sold out in every shop.” Blondie looks back up at you, “but you have anxiety you need these more than me,”

Pausing for a second, you wonder how he knows you have anxiety, nonetheless, you continue “It’s perfectly fine, Jisung’s parents work at a pharmacy back in my hometown and they send me a few of these whenever they are in stock, you can keep them.” you inform him, his smile brightening your cold mood shockingly fast. You’re not even sure why you gave him them, it was your last bottle. You guess that’s what happens when you are a people pleaser. The smile on the male’s face only grows wider, his heart jumping at your kind action.

“Thank you so much __,”

“It’s no worries, if you ever need some more, look for the loud group of small guys acting like four-year-olds.” you laugh, and he chuckles along with you, making a mental note, even though he knows he will likely never approach the group.

Before you can focus back on the starting game, you feel a soft material cover your shivering body. It is a large zip-up that smells of rich, sweet perfume. Turning quickly to the blonde guy with confusion covering your features, you hurriedly dismiss the action, seeing his arms exposed to the winter air.

“I can’t take this; you’ll get too cold.” you stop your words as he pulls out another sweater from his bag.

“I've got my friend’s sweater, you keep mine until you’re warm.” he turns to face the game, "or until Jisung sees and freaks out and tells everyone you have a secret boyfriend." he jokes.

“You seem to know Jisung?” you ask, wondering how he knows Jisung’s personality quite well.

“Well, we know each other, but we aren’t particularly friends,” blondie turns fully towards you, “are you sure you don’t know me at all?”

“I'm sorry but I really only have like two friends, I don't really go out.”

“But Jisung is super popular, aren't you in his huge partying friend group?”

“Not really, his friends are lovely but I’m only close with him and his boyfriend, I'm not too good at making friends.” you quietly mumble the last part. You look over at the blondie and see he has slight confusion on his face.

“You are so kind, I’m sure anyone would want to be your friend."

"You’d be the first to think that" you dryly admit, which causes the male to feel a twinge of pain and guilt in his heart, "I would rather stay inside all-day binge-watching television whilst eating away my stress,"

"Well, that’s one thing we have in common."

Sharing a warm smile with him, you start to get lost in your thoughts again, but then you realise a question you never returned.

“I’m so sorry I never got your name.”

“No worries, I’m Yeosang.” he has the same smile on his face, making you feel warm despite the bitter winter air. Then his familiarity dawns on you.

“Kang?” you inquire, your voice rising ever so slightly.

“That’s me,” he smiles at me, and you don't know if your heart rises because of how beautiful his smile is or because you recognise the name from Jisung’s teaching session with the members of Ateez.

“Like from Ateez,” you question, watching your words, if Ateez is as bad as Jisung is saying then you definitely need to watch your words.

Yeosang turns to you, almost looking baffled.

“I thought you didn't know about Ateez?” he questions, shocked.

“What made you think that?”

“Just a guess I suppose, being that you don't really go out I assumed you weren’t really interested in the groups and stuff.”

“Ah well not particularly, but recently I suppose I’ve gotten to know about it better.”

“You're not scared, are you?” you see Yeosang tense up a little, his eyebrows furrowed. He hopes for the best, not knowing how you will react. Surprisingly, your heart softens at this question, he seems upset for some reason, as if he doesn't want to be seen this way. You feel bad for ever acting stressed towards him.

“Don't worry, the only person that scares me is Jisung when he's hungry.” you joke out, relaxing the tension and calming him. From what you can see, Yeosang is just kind and calm. The only thing that's menacing about him is the fact he’s drop-dead gorgeous.

Yeosang lets out a small chuckle, “well I guess now I know I need to avoid Jisung if he’s hungry,”

You agree with the blonde man, whilst lightly laughing.

“Wait, but why are you watching? Aren’t you supposed to be on the pitch?” You ask him, confused, remembering Jisung informing you that Yeosang is a part of one of the school's football teams, along with someone else whose name you can’t remember at the moment. For a moment Yeosang’s chest fills with pride, knowing you know something about him.

“Someone is taking my spot today, I was told to analyse the opposing team to find out their habits and stuff, hence the notepad.”

Looking down, you notice the small notepad with doodles all over the cover, making your heart swell. Yeosang continues to talk,

“Don’t tell my tactics to Minho,” he jokes with a grin on his face, knowing Minho is on the other team.

“I would never betray you like that,” you place your hand over your chest acting offended.

Both cracking up, you speak up again, “don't worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

“Sang!” You hear a voice call from the left, and your eyes lay on another attractive man, “Coach told us to sit with him,” this male also has a notepad in his grip.

You know this guy. He works in a small café not too far from campus, it is down a narrow alleyway, covered by vines and moss. It was a very hidden spot and only locals really knew the place. Only knowing it because you walked past it every day for a year as the alleyway was a shortcut to your housing from the campus. Barely anyone goes there, the regulars being either old women or businesspeople quickly rushing in to get a coffee before work starts. Back at the beginning of the semester, you used to go to the café a lot because of the raspberry muffins, yet they stopped selling them thus forth you stopped going as much. It was also due to the fact you had barely any time to sleep, so you cut it out of your morning schedule to be able to sleep in a little. You think the guy’s name was Wooyoung if you can remember his name tag correctly. You notice he sees you sitting next to Yeosang, with his friend’s hoodie over your shoulders and a smile consumes his entire face.

“Muffin?” he looks confused, yet somewhat glad to see you once again. The nickname extremely takes you aback. “Why did you stop coming to the café?”

As far as you can recall, back when you visited the café, this server was rather distant and limited to saying little to no words whilst waiting. Seeing him like this confuses you severely. Alas, you let out a giggle and both of the boys' grins widen visibly.

“You two better get going, I'm not sure your coach wants to wait any longer.”

Yeosang stands up and straightens out his pants before turning to you,

“Hopefully I’ll see you around.” he smiles warmly. Smiling back at him, you nod. Yeosang starts to leave with Wooyoung before he turns around.

“I better see you at the café tomorrow! Plus, that sweater looks good on you, Muffin.” he winks and Yeosang slaps the back of his head. You can’t help but giggle yet feel flustered.

Yeosang and Wooyoung walk towards the coach’s section, Yeosang slightly more affected than the male next to him. Hopefully he will get his hoodie back, and hopefully it will smell like you. After this interaction, your mind was even more confused. If you remember correctly, Yeosang and Wooyoung have a very big reputation for being some of the rudest and coldest towards people. Yet they were so friendly when you were with them. Is everything all these people are saying about them true or maybe the group of eight is just deeply misunderstood?

Whatever it is, you need to talk to Jisung about this, but you will wait until the game is over.

----

The night of the interaction between Yeosang and Wooyoung, Jisung, Minho and you reside at their apartment, eating chicken and watching a shitty romcom for background noise. The rest of his roommates are out celebrating the start of the football season. You have no idea why it started mid-way through November but okay.

“I said I would come; they were too sweet to say no to!” You exclaim, throwing your head back against the couch, regretting saying yes.

“It was definitely Yeosang and Wooyoung?” Minho questions, not believing any part of my story.

“Yes! Yeosang has the birthmark next to his eye like Ji described and Wooyoung was the guy who works at that one café I used to go to all the time,”

“Well, I never knew Wooyoung worked at a café, that doesn't really match the hardcore scary image they are going for, are you sure you’re not going delusional?” Jisung admits, chuckling.

“What are you going to do?” Minho questions, passing you a drumstick.

You take a big bite, before speaking, “I should just go, if I don't show up, they might murder me as you two say. Which is very unbelievable seeing how fucking cheerful they’ve all been.”

“Well, you’ve only met four, the rest are probably a nightmare,” Jisung says, his mouth full of chicken, Minho humming in agreement next to him.

“You two are supposed to be comforting me.” you groan, throwing your head into your hands.

“Okay, don't worry __, if they have been as nice as you’ve been saying then just show up and if they aren't nice then call Chan and Changbin and I’m sure they will gladly sort them out for you.” Minho laughs.

----

Keeping your promise, you showed up at the café the next day.

Opening the painted door, the bell rings notifying your entrance. Immediately you spot Wooyoung relaxing against the counter, scrolling through his phone, visibly bored. There are only a few people in the café, mostly reading books or typing on laptops. You see a flash of pink hair in the corner, yet you lose focus as quickly as you had it as you continue to walk further in.

“Welcome to Veranda Café,” Wooyoung says unbothered, still staring at his phone as you walk closer to where all the cakes were on display. Much to your dismay, you fail to see a raspberry muffin on display.

“I see you still don’t have any raspberry muffins.” You speak out in front of where Wooyoung is standing, making his head immediately snap up.

“__! I was starting to worry you weren't going to show up.” He exclaims, a contagious smile wide on his face. Immediately putting his phone in his pocket, giving his attention to you. He leans on the counter. Extremely happy you showed up.

“I never break my promises,” you grin at the black-haired man.

“Oh, one moment.” He speaks out excitedly, like a puppy, and turns to where he was sitting. Opening up a small fridge, he brings out the biggest, most beautiful raspberry muffin you have ever seen.

“Yeosang and I made this morning for you.” he gestures over to the corner, and you see the blonde male from yesterday, he is sitting next to someone, yet you can’t see them from where you’re standing. Yeosang shyly waves and you smile and wave back. Heart beating faster and cheeks warming up, you take the muffin happily. Wooyoung smiles brightly at you, feeling prideful at the way your eyes light up from the muffin.

“We stopped making these muffins because the owner didn’t think anyone was buying them, it made me upset because I knew you liked them,” Wooyoung says, making direct eye contact with you, making you weak at the knees. Wondering how he even remembered you, you still feel thankful he thought of you, even if it was a long time ago.

“It’s a shame but I'm sure there are lots of other tasty things here too. Anyways, thank you so much, you guys are the best.” you say, sincerity dripping in your words. Wooyoung just shrugs like he doesn't care, but the big smile on his face and the redness dusting his ears tells a different story.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, getting out your purse.

Swiftly, Wooyoung grabs your hand halting its actions, “it’s on us, for being so kind, Yeosang and one of our friends really needed those rescue drops.” He lowers his voice, “between us, their anxiety has been really bad recently, and the stuff works wonders. Plus, you were always my favourite customer anyways.” Wooyoung admits, smiling, his cheeks get a deeper colour of red. Your heart warms up once again, which is strange to you. You haven't felt this happiness in a very long time. Maybe things are starting to get better. Happily taking the muffin, you make your way to Yeosang who is reading a book.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you inquire, repeating his words from yesterday, yet when your eyes meet the figure sitting next to him, they light up as you recognise him.

“I know you!” You exclaim, a little too loudly, causing people around you to glare in your direction. Feeling overwhelmed by the sudden attention, you quickly sit down in a shielded area, away from all the glares.

“You two know each other?” Yeosang asks, intrigued by your sudden remark.

“It is you, right?” you ask just in case you’re mistaking him for another pink-haired male.

The tall male smiles widely, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m Mingi,” he turns to Yeosang, who is visibly confused, “we met briefly in a bar the other day,”

Yeosang lets out an ‘ah’ in realisation, yet you fail to see the jealous look he points at the pink haired man as he turns back to his book. Reaching for a dessert fork placed in the middle of the table, Mingi quickly grabs it and hands it to you. Quietly thanking him, you start to cut your muffin into four pieces. You acknowledge a gaze on you, so you halt your movements and look up, noticing Yeosang and Mingi’s eyes on you. Suddenly feeling awfully small, you start to feel your heartbeat rise and your breath deepen, never really liking people watching you eat, the stares from the two make you anxious. Luckily, they seem to immediately notice your change in behaviour and start apologising.

“I’m sorry, we will look away. We were just wondering whether you were going to like the muffin,” Mingi explains, his voice stumbling over words.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I’ve always been kind of awkward when people watch me eat.” you confess, your cheeks heating up. The two males nod trying to remember this information for the future. Instantly, the two men completely look away and focus on their own things, not paying any attention to you. Their antics make you giggle slightly, and you look back down at your muffin. Slowly, you pick up a quarter and place it on Mingi’s empty plate in front of him. You then do the same for Yeosang. They both look up at you with wide eyes.

“This is your favourite, we can't take it,” Yeosang says hurriedly, trying to put the cake back on your plate.

“Stop, stop! I want to. I want to share it with my friends!” You blurt out before you can control your mouth. The wide eyes on both Yeosang and Mingi, make you realise what you said. You have to remember that even though they seem normal they are very clearly part of a group who apparently can kill people with their stare. What the hell are you doing? Of course, they aren’t your friends, you met them both once for less than ten minutes.

“Wait, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that I didn't intend to push your boundaries, we have only met like twice I didn't just assume we are friends!” You start to ramble, scared they will take it the wrong way, trying to fix your words as quickly as possible so you don’t get on their bad sides.

Before you can say anything more, Yeosang cuts you off by taking a bite of the muffin, “it tastes amazing! Thank you,”

“Woo!” Mingi’s voice calls out, ignoring the angry glares of people around him, “come get some cake!” Watching Wooyoung jump over the counter towards the three of you, you smile to yourself, glad you haven't done something that would cause future problems. Yeosang feeds Wooyoung the cake and makes an over-exaggerated reaction, “the flavours are melting on my tongue!” he exclaims in a funny voice, making Yeosang and Mingi cringe but you just laugh at his amusing antics. You can’t help but imagine how the whole group is when they are together.

For the remainder of the hour, you are just conversing with Wooyoung and Mingi, sometimes Yeosang if he wants to add to the conversation, but more focusing on his book, yet looking up intently whenever you speak. You are broken out of your conversation as you hear the bell of the entrance ring, notifying the entrance of new customers. Wooyoung groans and stands up from his chair next to you. It seems to be three girls from our school. You recognise one of them from your calculus class.

Then the next thing that happens confuses you more than any other thing that has happened. As Wooyoung reaches the counter to take their order, his demeanour changes almost immediately, you would've missed it if you had blinked.

Mingi and Yeosang seem to notice your confusion but blatantly ignore it, their smiles quickly disappearing from their faces. The atmosphere turns from warm and friendly to cold and foreign.

“What do you want?” Wooyoung asks bluntly. You furrow your eyebrows, confused out of your mind as to where the sweet friendly Wooyoung disappeared to.

“You know you should be nicer to your customers, it would help with business,” one of the girls speaks out, looking smug as if she has immensely hurt the man’s feelings.

“You should probably focus on your studies rather than going to cafes, sitting with a random document open and pretending to study when we all know you are miserably failing all your classes.” Wooyoung says monotone, whilst scrolling through his phone, not even looking at the three girls who now have shocked and offended looks on their faces. Some curses are thrown before the girls end up storming out of the café without even beginning to look at the menu. As soon as the girls leave, Wooyoung returns to the table nonchalantly, acting as if nothing had happened. Opening your mouth to say something, it gets caught in your throat before you get the words out.

Are you going insane?

{feedback is always appreciated and i love hearing from all of you. remember you are loved.}

part two is out now!!!

2K notes · View notes

raainberry · 8 months ago

Text

Cross The Line (Prologue)

« Doing something outside the bounds of acceptable behavior. »

Mina x gn!reader

synopsis - being a regular at urgent care raises suspicions but apparently also temperatures which results in the blurring of a few lines

wordcount - 1.5K

T/W - mentions of diverse injuries, stitches, and the hospital obviously. resident!mina, patient!reader angst but also fluff that’s not really fluff bc its just angst disguised as fluff. yearning if you will.

A/N - i made my research after writing🧍‍♀️girlie is NOT supposed to be alone with the patient but oh well. we’re here for the plot. happy mina day to all who celebrate!!

Mina’s movements were calculated. Precise, and accurate. She never let any room for the unexpected. It was too dangerous.

Her attention was consumed by the monitors, checking and writing down any anomalies she deemed important enough ahead of your transfer to a surgical unit. You’d come in with an open wound on your cheekbone, and pain in your arm which she quickly found out was a fracture in need of surgery.

She was known to be effective, eyes sharp and catching any detail that dared try and escape her. Like how your heartrate slightly increased on the monitor when she came in earlier, or the way you looked at her whenever you landed in the building.

She tried to ignore the familiar sense of déjà-vu washing over her, but her questions kept increasing in number. She never knew the reason behind your visits, but the nature of your injuries gave her a few clues. A broken nose, scratches, cuts and open wounds, hematomas… Five visits in the past two years, an unusual average, enough to leave an imprint on any Resident.

Something about you was odd. It pulled at a curiosity she’d vowed to ignore unless in name of the patient’s wellbeing, and you were especially good at tempting her.

For whatever reason, she was the one assigned to your case for every one of your visits. A twist of fate maybe. She’d call it incredible bad luck if she hadn’t grown that damn soft spot.

As frustrating as tending to you could be, the hours it took to do so allowed her to get a glimpse of the person behind the entire Unit’s favorite gossip column. Though that glimpse remained very surface leveled.

You were incredibly hard to read through your blatent lies, and it scared her. It made her see through herself more than she probably ever could you.

In short, she was attracted to you.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was soft despite the slight rasp in your throat. It almost made her forget about her surroundings.

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat, tearing her eyes away from your figure as fast as she’d found it.

You chuckled, your mind a little fuzzy from the local anesthesia. “Come on, we’re past that.”

Her fingers halted their motion against the clipboard in her hands, something you barely noticed but still had the strength to smirk at. It wasn’t hard getting a reaction from her, but it was hard to catch it.

You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as the effects of the anesthesia lingered. That was something you usually kept to yourself, and Mina’s attention didn’t fail to catch that detail either.

"You know, it’s getting hard to believe you're not getting hurt on purpose." She sighed, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

"I would never break a bone on purpose.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself on the examination table. “Hurts like hell…"

"Thought you'd be a little tougher," Mina remarked in a tone that pushed your eyes open.

It was colder than you were used to. Icy and slippery.

"Yeah, well… we all have our limits, Mina." You replied quietly.

"It's still Dr. Myoui to you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips apologetically. The words would have pulled a laugh out of you if they’d ever come out of anyone else’s chest, but you knew better around her.

"What happened this time?" She asked, and the question surprised you. A glance at her eyes, now on you only out of respect, and you found out it wasn’t her own will.

Don’t be difficult, they begged. So you played along.

"Fell off a skateboard," You responded with as casual of a demeanor as you could.

She stared at you in silence, leaving you a few custom seconds to see if you'd tell her the truth this time. Instead, you offered her your best smile, and she had to hold her own back. "Do you even have a skateboard?"

"Do you need that information to treat me?"

"Just wondering."

"You seem to do that a lot…" You trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Mina left that as the last of them to be spoken for a long while, turning her focus onto some more medical nonsense you could never decipher to save your life.

Maybe that’s why your eyes always landed on her.

She could feel them, following her every move around the room, and it was hard not to meet them.

A silence you were used to settled, the quiet hum of the room fading into the tension hanging in the air.

You feigned interest in your hospital bracelet to escape it, but the sight of your own name made you look away from it. The blank ceiling was enough to distract you, but only for a moment.

Not staring at her was an effort you struggled to make even with a sound mind. The first time you’d seen her, it took you a full minute to blink. It had pulled a smile out of her, and the words she used to point it out echoed in a blurry memory.

How safe you felt in her hands that night, you sought the feeling ever since. In vain.

Your gaze bore into her, merciless against the composure she desperately tried to hold on to. Each of your visits tested it in a way she had yet to see. To feel. She would resent you if she doubted your intentions. If she doubted her own.

"How long until it's not anymore?" Your voice broke the silence, startling Mina into meeting your eyes again.

This anesthesia seemed to guide you into an uncharted territory, where the boundaries of her professionalism blurred, seeping through her fingers with your every word.

She seemed lost in the place your words had suddenly lured her into, so you offered some guidance.

"How long until I can call you Mina?"

The question lingered in the air, pulling at the veil you’d draped over your desires.

It seemed you were close to baring them, Mina exposing a glimpse with a soft bite on her bottom lip.

You’d sculpted a fragile bridge. Cracked and vulnerable to the slightest movement. You enjoyed dancing around it, but one wrong step and it all comes crumbling down.

Mina hesitated, eyes avoidant and voice soft as she stepped forward. "Maybe once you don't get hurt anymore," she murmured.

This wasn’t the first dance she invited you to. It was rare, you weren’t used to it, but you’d rehearsed enough to guide yourselves through it.

“You know, I'd love to see you somewhere else. Outside these walls, preferably," You confessed in a whisper, wary of the thin curtains separating you from the bustling building.

Those almost slipped her mind. You could tell by the silence that followed.

She put her clipboard on a free space of the table, far enough away to keep it from becoming an obstacle. Her hands reached for your injured cheekbone, carefully examining the cut she’d stitched moments ago.

A breath caught in your throat at the touch and attention, long enough to bring a few changes to the data displayed on the screen not too far from you. A change she didn’t fail to notice yet again as she went to retrieve her notes.

A quiet laugh escaped her lips, catching you off guard. You could only watch her write down whatever conclusions she’d pulled out of her observations, waiting to see if it was safe to carry on.

“Do you feel any pain?” She asked.

“Uhm...” You hummed, focusing in order to identify any pain other than the one in your heart. “Slightly. Now that you mention it.”

Mina nodded and carried on with a bunch of questions about your well-being. You answered all of them honestly, words leaving your mouth without much thought.

“Do you feel lightheaded? Any dizziness?”

“No.”

“Are you feeling thirsty, or hungry?”

“A little thirsty.”

“Can you tell me your name and where you are right now?”

“My name is Y/n, and I’m in… at the urgent care.”

"Where would you like to see me?"

Her voice had dropped a couple decibels on that one. It took a few more seconds for you to sink it in and match an answer.

"Somewhere a little more… colorful?”

Wait…

Your eyes left the spot they’d blankly focused on on the floor to find hers still ignoring you.

“I mean… I don't know, I didn't think that far," you admitted, complying to her silent wishes.

Mina let a smile slip, a rare sight that let you peek at the depth of her feelings, and her thoughts allowed her to fantasize about the world outside. The one she could share with you. "That would be nice," she admitted softly.

Your smile mirrored her own, "So… Is that a yes?" you probed, and she chuckled, ignoring your question once more as she wrapped up her duties.

Just then, a couple nurses stepped into the room, asking Mina to take you away for the transfer you were long past due for.

Your arm was in a far worse state than your face. Or your heart.

"See you in three months, Y/n.”

part.2

#twice x reader #mina x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice mina #myoui mina #twice fluff

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amomentsescape · 9 months ago

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Hey, in a school play thats coming up in a few months and just got back from practice. Feeling super exhausted and under pressure cause I might have to miss a dress rehearsal for an important field trip and I dont want the teacher to be disappointed be like "oh my God that upping bitch ditched the 2nd dress rehearsal to go on some stupid field trip" (leaving this is an almost unreadable color so if it gets made I dont have to see that part and feel anxious again) so can I request slashers with a significant other in that situation and they support them all through it, the anxiety, lines, and coming home super exhausted and feeling discouraged all leading up to the play? Cause its still somthing they're determined and wanna do? Thanks in advance if you decide to write this then ill be rereading it till the play is over and maybe after it. Its probably dumb my feelings about it all seem stupid but I'm nerodivergent and things are just extra for me then most people.

Slashers with Overwhelmed! Reader That's in a School Play

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

A/N: Hey, your feelings are very much valid no matter the situation! Thank you for sending in your request, and I hope you find some rest soon <3

Freddy Krueger

He's grown a bit concerned over the past couple of weeks

Seeing you show up in his world with that exhausted look on your face wasn't something he liked to see

Has listened to you rant about the situation while he just held you

But he's also been there to keep you going even when you thought about giving up

If you need help with lines and preparing, he's happy to be of assistance!

Can literally morph the world into a stage for you

Anything that makes you feel a little more at ease is worth it

And he'll happily keep you in his world for however long you desire

Something about being with him helps you get the rest you've so desperately needed recently

Michael Myers

He honestly doesn't understand what the big deal is at first

You're stressed from the busy schedule? Then quit the play

But once you express how important it is to you and why you want to stick with it, he takes a little pity on you

Doesn't really help with lines or anything

But whenever you need some alone time, Michael is happy to oblige

If you need to rant, Michael is willing to lend an ear

It might not look like he's listening, but he is

He has offered to "get rid" of your problem a few times

Which you quickly said no to

Overall, he may not be the most supportive person to go to, but he does his best to be there for you in his own way

Jason Voorhees

Jason has already gotten used to the routine now

In fact, whenever you come home, he already has a fluffy blanket laid out on the couch for you along with a warm beverage

Forces you to take at least 5 minutes to sit down and chill

Even if you protest, Jason refuses to let you jump straight into more work

If you're feeling particularly anxious, he's more than happy to hold you or just sit beside you and rub your back

He's happy to help you with anything you need too

He's not the best at giving lines since he's not much of a talker...

But he's very good at following along with your script and giving you a nod if you memorized something correctly

He cares a lot about your wellbeing, so whatever will help you out is what Jason wants to do

Thomas Hewitt

He's also become a bit worried about you recently

He just hates seeing you look so worn out all of the time

Happily makes you dinner and snacks when you get home since he knows you appreciate not having to do it all yourself

He'll also run you a warm bath on evenings when you are particularly stressed out

He admires your dedication for sure, he just doesn't want you to burn out

Will not let you stay up late either

The moment it's bedtime, he makes you go to bed

It doesn't matter if you protest or not

He knows rest is important, and he'll happily lie right on top of you to make sure you don't get up from the mattress

Bubba Sawyer

Every time you come home looking worried, Bubba is all over you

He's hugging you, holding your hand, and even following you around like a puppy the whole night

He hates seeing you as anything but happy

Will do crazy charades and dances to get you to smile

He's also been stalking up on a lot of your favorite snacks and candies so that you always have something for a little more energy

He also cares a lot about you getting enough rest too

If you ever try to pull an all-nighter or stay up late in order to practice your lines, Bubba is right there with you

And seeing him forcing himself to stay awake just ends up guilting you into finally going to bed

He may seem innocent, but Bubba knows how to persuade you when he deems necessary

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms also recommends just quitting the play at first

It seems to be stressing you out too much, and he hates spending so much time away from you

But when you tell him that this is all important to you, he gives in

He'll (begrudgingly) go through lines with you and help you memorize them

Reassures you that everything will be fine and work out

Is happy to give you as many cuddles and kisses as you want in order to help you feel better

He still expects you to follow the rules list

But he's willing to be fairly lenient if you really need it

Norman Bates

He's very sweet and understanding about the whole situation

Doesn't even question why you're still doing everything even with all the stress

Meets you at the door each night and grabs your things, putting them aside

Has dinner already prepared for you

And he's happy to help you with lines or anything else you need!

He's actually the one who offered

If he sees that you're feeling extra stressed, he urges you to tell him what you're thinking

He refuses to let you bottle up your worries

He always responds with reassurances or advice depending on what you want

Billy Loomis

Believe it or not but Billy has had a little experience in theatre back in his day

He's a heartthrob; he always got cast in good roles

He's actually good at acting too and makes learning your lines feel a lot more legit

Even helps you with the delivery of the lines as well

He waits for you to come to him if you need anything

Advice, cuddles, questions, you name it

If you need it, just ask, and he'll be happy to supply

If anyone gives you a particularly hard time, Billy will go have a "talk" with them

Don't worry, he won't kill anyone

Well, unless you ask

Stu Macher

Stu somehow always makes a stressful situation better

If you need help with lines, he'll go all out

Will throw on random clothes and grab just about anything to use as a prop

Delivers his lines with such charisma that you'd think he was Shakespeare

He pushes you to take frequent breaks when you can

A nice walk outside, a little TV sesh, or even going to get some ice cream real quick are all frequent suggestions made by Stu

He admires your passion for what you're doing, he just doesn't want you to push yourself too hard

Every night while in bed, he's there whispering reassurances to you and telling you how proud he is for what you're doing

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent really wants to help, he just doesn't know how

But the moment you ask anything of him, he'll jump on it immediately

Brings you water and food frequently while you're busy

And on overwhelming days, he already has your bags and meals prepped for you so you can just head right out the door

Makes sure you're asleep every night before he'll even let himself rest

He also offers a lot of physical reassurance too if you need it

His hand on top of yours, gentle back rubs, and long hugs are all done if you initiate them

He really focuses on taking care of you and making sure you're not exhausting yourself too much

Bo Sinclair

It honestly pisses him off

You coming home each night feeling anxious and looking so tired makes Bo angry at your school

Would really love to invite your teacher over to have a "talk" about everything

But he knows you'd never allow that

Will help you with lines if you insist

He's not very good at it, but the sentiment is there

His help is really focused on the practical

He makes sure you eat dinner, drink enough water, get enough sleep, etc.

He's not much of a cuddler, but that definitely changes when you're going through a tough time

He's very much looking forward to when the play is finally done

Lester Sinclair

He always gives you lots of compliments

"You're such a hard-worker" "I know you're gonna do great" "It'll be all worth it"

Will give you a ride to wherever you need to go whenever you need to get there

Will spoil you quite a bit during this time too

Multiple bags of snacks, new comfy clothes, late night drives around the town, etc.

Whatever he can do to make you feel better, he wants to do it

He worries a lot about you though

So there will be a few times when you're the one needing to reassure him that you're alright

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bird-inacage · 2 years ago

Text

Love in the Air: Give & Take VS Give & Receive

You best believe I wrote a meta around Sky/Prapai’s Episode 12 uncut NC scene. That’s the reality we’re operating in folks. So saddle up. Episode 8′s initial collision between Sky and Prapai is the epitome of Give and Take.

Prapai proposes that Sky ‘give’ him something in return for helping him. Sky very pointedly responds with, “just take what you want”, which carries an implied ‘(I dare you)’ in that rebuttal. It’s the resigned surrender of someone accustomed to others doing just that, with little concern over his wellbeing. There’s an air of ‘Fine, ruin me for all I care. If that’s how you want to play, then do your worst.’

Episode 8′s love scene revolved around Sky trying to pleasure Prapai, because that was the condition he was trying to meet. When you give and give till you’re running on empty, you can almost convince yourself you don’t care anymore. You flirt with self-destructive behaviour because you think you’re numb. Sky does this with evident reluctancy because he hates how much he does care.

Once Prapai falls in love with Sky, he no longer wishes to see Sky fall prey to this type of mentality. Sky telling him ‘he gives in’ is not the reaction Prapai necessarily wants. Because doing so would only make him feel like he’s taking advantage. What Prapai seeks is a mutual, reciprocal relationship with Sky. An equal relationship. He reiterates this by saying ‘just because I do x, y and z, doesn’t mean I expect sex in return’. Prapai is not okay with receiving if it means Sky always has to give. Sky’s tendency for self-sacrifice doesn’t sit well with him.

Fast forward to Episode 12, Sky declares “I’m yours. All yours.” and its embroiled in devotion and rapture. Instead of being resigned to his fate, he’s actively choosing his surrender to Prapai. Rarely do we see Sky make such an open admission such as this. Rather than ‘I’m giving myself to you because I see no other option’, this is ‘I’m giving myself to you because it’s my chosen option’. The implication is anything you take from me is warranted. I’m giving you the go ahead to do so.

Even in Episode 11′s love scene, Sky uses the words “please shut up and take me”. He’s still trying to downplay the gravity of what it means when someone does this. ‘Just take me already, stop being so considerate and sentimental. It’s no big deal’. Sky still believes he has to be willing for his partner to take in order to secure their affection, and be seemingly nonchalant about it. It’s all he knows.

How Prapai chooses to respond to Sky in Episode 12′s uncut scene is what makes it so important. Instead of just ‘taking him’ up on his offer, Prapai decides to give back in a different way. To reply to Sky’s admission with: ‘if you’re putting yourself fully in my hands, then I will take care of you. I’ll do more than just take care of you, I’ll cherish and worship you.’ It’s no longer about one taking and another giving. Prapai grants Sky full permission to receive. If you give, I give. If I receive, so do you.

Oral is an act of service. You’re prioritising someone else’s pleasure before your own. When Sky realises this is what Prapai intends to do, he reacts with complete giddiness, sweetly stunned by this gesture. The notion that someone would put him first is clearly unfamiliar and unexpected. We can safely assume that all Gun ever did was take what he wanted, how he wanted.

For Sky, it was never about him, even during the highest act of intimacy. So for Prapai to make a point of doing so, to put Sky’s pleasure first and providing clear indication that ‘It’s okay, I want to do this for you’ is a huge act of love where Sky is concerned.

What’s even better when compared to Episode 8 is that Prapai gazes up at Sky lovingly before he goes in. When Sky did it, it felt very detached, he was performing based on what he thought Prapai probably wanted or expected of him during their one night stand. This is a silent declaration from Prapai of ‘this is how I want to treat you, this is what you deserve, I’m prioritising you’.

The difference between taking and receiving is assertion. Taking implies acting on what you want, upon your own desire. Whereas receiving is allowing someone to offer it to you. It signifies patience. Selflessness. It allows for generosity. It says I’ll be grateful for whatever you offer me, but I’m not demanding it. I’m letting you decide how, what and when.

It matters immensely to Sky to feel in control; to feel he has agency and choice. That’s the ultimate act of giving, is allowing the receiver to decide if they want to return the gesture without expecting them to do so. It’ll mean even more if they do.

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #love in the air uncut #LITA meta #LITA analysis #prapaisky #paisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #YES i wrote a meta on a BJ scene essentially #its important academic commentary okay?#i've missed talking about them so much

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diagonal-queen · 2 years ago

Note

Concept: Chuuya being the one who recruits you into the mafia and he gives you his choker when you join

Welcome Gift

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x gn!reader

♡ synopsis: "It's tradition in the Port Mafia that the person who recruits a new member is responsible for their wellbeing. To symbolise that, they hand down one of their belongings."

♡ wc: 1.25k

♡ cw: Swearing, and I made Chuuya and reader friends before reader joined the Mafia, hope that's okay ❤︎

note: You can't possibly expect me to see a prompt like this and NOT write it. Thanks anon ♡︵(ゝ。∂) sorry it took so long and apologies for spelling/grammar errors

To be honest, you assumed that your official induction to the Port Mafia would contain a plethora of trials and tribulations to determine your strength, resolve, and perhaps the darker aspects of your character. You'd had the idea that you might be asked to prove loyalty by committing a crime, whether that be killing someone or something equally heinous.

No. Absolutely none of that happened.

Apparently, when you're friends with a mafia executive, it's as simple as just asking them to work there. Such was your case, at least, being close with the infamous Port Mafia executive Chuuya Nakahara. 'Close', in theory, was supposed to be code for 'in a relationship', but the 'friends' aspect was certainly throwing a wrench into that plan. Perhaps by joining the mafia you could get closer to Chuuya? You always knew how important to him his work was.

To your luck, Chuuya was happy to take you in as one of his subordinates and act as your guide to organised crime. You'd initially wondered how he would be testing you to see if you were a good fit for the occupation, but that time never came. Instead, you were called and asked to meet with him to go over a few basic rules so he wouldn't 'find your ass in a dumpster on day one'. Those were his words, and you had initially scoffed at them.

"How do I get other people to respect me? I don't think I'm that scary," you asked. This was not the first question but rather one of many you'd been asking Chuuya during your slow evening wander around what you supposed was the wide expanse of the Port Mafia's turf. The size of the area you'd travelled so far led you to believe that perhaps you may have been biting off more than you could chew with this new job. Clearly, the Port Mafia didn't fuck around.

"Well, you're a mafia underling now, but more importantly you're my subordinate. People who know me are gonna respect the people I recruit. In fact, you'll probably eventually have troops of your own."

"Ooh, like henchmen?" You asked.

"No- this is the actual mafia, not a Saturday morning cartoon," he shook his head. "Listen. Being part of the Port Mafia is serious business. I know you're not stupid, but just try not to be too...friendly with people you don't know."

At that point you weren't really sure if there actually was anyone you didn't know in the Mafia. Of course, you'd never known anyone in real life aside from Chuuya, but he'd already gone through all the important ones. The other executives, Akutagawa, the Black Lizard, and even the boss himself whom you were still quite terrified of meeting.

"I'm gonna be fine. It's not like I won't have you to protect me anymore," you grinned, nudging his arm. He didn't return the smile. "Don't worry about me, Chuuya! I'm gonna be alright."

"You're too optimistic, Y/N," replied Chuuya who continued his stroll. You quickly shuffled to catch up with him.

"I'll do my best. I promise." You told him firmly. He let out a sigh. You continued to walk alongside the mafioso quietly, wondering what exactly was going through his head. You had thought that you were the only one who had your concerns with this job, as much as you tried to conceal them. Did he really care about you so much that he'd worry like that?

"Oh, right, I almost forgot about this." Chuuya stopped and turned to face you. "There's a tradition here, where the person who recruits you gives you something of theirs which represents that they're responsible for you. It's how I got this," he explained, jerking a lazy thumb towards his hat.

"...you weren't born with it?" You asked, and Chuuya rolled his eyes. "I was joking!"

"Very fuckin' funny, Y/N. Anyway, this means that I now give you something as a new member of the Port Mafia, which will be..."

You were about to say something but stopped as you eyed his next movements; that is, him removing his choker from his neck and presenting it to you. You stared at it, almost in awe.

"...your choker?"

"Your choker," he corrected, and you glanced up at him. He was giving you a reassuring smile. You shook your head.

"I can't take this- no, it's important to you."

"...that's why I'm giving it to you, Y/N," Chuuya replied, cocking an eyebrow. "That's kind of the point."

"Are you sure?" You hesitantly queried, reaching out and nervously taking the choker from his gloved hand. It felt warm. "Because you know, you look really cool with this thing..."

Chuuya let out a snicker as you examined the new accessory. "How flattering. But I'm sure." After hearing that, you eventually hummed in acknowledgement and began to put on the choker. Or, at least you tried to. It turns out that putting something on your neck without being able to see it is quite difficult.

"You need help?" Chuuya asked after a moment of silence.

"Well, yeah. I don't have a mirror, Chuuya. Or, are you like, Mr. Nakahara now that you're my boss?"

"Fuck no," he answered, and you laughed. Chuuya took the choker from you and began to fasten it around your neck. In your close proximity, you could almost feel his breath on you each time he exhaled. You were worried that perhaps if he focused hard enough he would be able to hear your rapidly beating heart.

"Not too tight?" He suddenly asked as he carefully adjusted the choker.

"Nope." Could he notice your nerves? If he could, he wasn't showing it.

"Right, there we go. You look great." Chuuya took a step back and examined you, now clad in his choker. Your hand travelled to your neck and brushed against the black choker.

"I do?"

"Yeah- it suits you." He smiled. You didn't know what to say, bashfully casting your eyes to the ground. "Are you blushing at me? C'mon, now."

"What? I'm not...!" Your hands flew up to your face, which was admittedly pretty hot, as Chuuya leaned forward and eyed you roguishly. "Oh, maybe I am..."

"Don't let anyone else see you do that, alright?" He warned you, though he was still giving you a cheeky smile. "You keep this between you and I."

"Y-yeah..." you nodded. You figured that he was right- getting embarrassed so easily wasn't very mafia-like. But it almost seemed as if he were purposely trying to tease you. "But you know, people are gonna see me wearing the choker."

"Again, that is kind of the point of it all, Y/N." He told you as he straightened.

"Yeah, but I'm probably gonna blush about it again if anyone asks!" You exclaimed. "It's essentially a piece of jewellery. People might start thinking we're a couple or something."

Chuuya bit his lip. Then he shrugged.

"And?"

You opened your mouth to say something but quickly closed it. Dumbstruck, you couldn't think of a way to answer him. You truly couldn't tell if he was joking, apathetic, or if that was actually supposed to be some sort of confession. Chuuya sighed in amusement, before patting you on the shoulder and continuing to stroll past you. You turned to see him walk a few feet further, before stopping.

"You know what? I think you're gonna do just fine with me." He turned his head and beamed at you. "Welcome to the Port Mafia, Y/N."

i love chuuya ( 〃▽〃)

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfic #bsd fanfiction #fanfiction #bsd x reader #x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

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idyllic-affections · 1 year ago

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Hi! I love your blog!

Can I request an older brother scaramouche comforting a teen!reader who cries a lot? Probably from loud noises or frequent bouts of anxiety

the art of being gentle.

summary. the balladeer does not need to be gentle to show that he cares.

trigger & content warnings. anxiety, scara's a bit mean but he does mean well, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort. scaramouche & younger sibling!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello lovely! thank you sm. a random thought, but a lot of people seem to quite like platonic scara content? i don't mind writing for him at all, since most people on my blog seem to be fond of my rendition of him, but i just thought it was interesting hehe

scaramouche is an easily agitated man.

his workload is difficult enough to manage as it is. being a harbinger, contrary to what the lower ranked members of the fatui seem to think, does not simply mean being out on the field constantly. it doesn't simply mean fulfilling the tsaritsa's international desires, such as snatching gnoses from their godly owners. it doesn't simply mean bloodshed. there is far more to it than that.

there's paperwork.

there's a fuck ton of paperwork.

scaramouche very much loathes that part of his job. he sometimes thinks of hiring someone else (more like threatening someone else) to do it, but then again... any error could be held against him in the end. he always ends up doing the mountains of work himself. as such, the balladeer does not take kindly to interruptions.

the knock on his office door, meek and quiet, makes his head snap up. the grip on his pen tightens slightly. with irritation evident in his voice, he sneers, "what?"

a wave of what he thinks is guilt or regret washes over him when his sibling—his cherished baby sibling, the most important person to him—steps into his office and shuts the door behind them with trembling hands. fuck... he feels impossibly bad, though he shoves those feelings down into the depths of his mind to the best of his ability with a slight grimace. a weight settles on his chest almost immediately he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. his expression then softens slightly.

no, the sixth is not gentle. he is not. he hasn't been gentle for a very long time.

even so, he'll do his best. he hates seeing them cry, and based on the shimmery gloss over their eyes... they are about to, his tone doing nothing to help their emotional state.

he tries to think of something to say—are you okay? what's on your mind? who made you feel this way? the words, however, do not come out. his throat tightens. it's as if the simple thought alone of expressing concern for another being made him uncomfortable. it was unfamiliar territory, in his defense. scaramouche has not had to worry about another's wellbeing for... centuries, maybe. he can't recall the last time he verbally consoled someone.

"sit down."

it comes out harsher than he intends, and he winces slightly at the sound of his own voice. he fidgets with the pen in his hands. suddenly, the paperwork on his desk—expense reports for the regrator, mission reports for the jester—seems far less relevant.

he still doesn't say anything. he only observes silently as his sibling settles in the chair in front of his desk.

"um," they begin, swallowing back some of their anxiety as they fidget with the edge of their sleeves. "i know you're busy. i'm sorry."

"the hell are you apologizing for?"

"just... um, just for being bothersome, since i know you have work to do and—"

"the other harbingers can fucking wait," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "you come before those heartless bastards, always. spit it out. what happened?"

no, the balladeer is not known for being gentle, but he cares.

maybe it's hard for others to comprehend, but when he always ends up holding them tightly in his arms as he finishes up the last of his work with one hand, the other's calloused fingertips drawing random shapes on their upper arm, it's obvious to the one person who matters.

being gentle is an art that scaramouche may very well never master, but in the end...

he doesn't have to be gentle to show that he cares.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #genshin x reader #platonic scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader

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heavenlyvision · 1 year ago

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helloo!! my friend sent me the bi-han request you wrote for her and your writing is just a m a z i n g! i was wondering if i could request a mileena x gn! afab reader soft smut where mileena is having a stressful day of being an empress and reader tries to relieve her stress when they're finally alone? when it comes to the smut just please don't include any degredation etc!! if you don't write female characters then please ignore this request!!

Thank you for your request! I do not write softer smut frequently, but I tried my hand at it here. My bad habit of adding a plot came back today so I expanded on your idea slightly, I hope you don’t mind. Also, this is a shorter fic as I am not as experienced at writing smut for female characters, and I wanted to fulfil your request sooner rather than later, it had been sitting in my inbox for a bit and I didn’t want you to feel like I was ignoring it! I really hope I lived up to your expectations and that you enjoy it <3

Unwind

Wc: 2.5k

Pairing: Mileena x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only, angst (only an iddy biddy bit), established relationship, cunnilingus (Mileena receiving), I think that's all!

Stressed doesn’t even begin to touch how Mileena has been feeling lately, not that she will admit to it. She’s too proud to confide in you how things have been difficult for her, but it isn’t hard to tell that things have been difficult.

Ever since her mother passed and she took over role of empress she has been trying so hard to be accepted by Outworld. She’s steadfast in ruling fairly and improving in specific areas where her mother had failed to acknowledge properly. Which, you admire greatly, she is a strong leader, and she has been doing an amazing job.

The only complaint you have comes back to her overworking herself, she can’t keep running herself to the ground like this. It makes for poor health and in the long run, will result in poor leadership. You have tried gently mentioning this to her before, but she is not very receptive to your concerns.

Being her partner, you’d have thought you would have more of a sway over things regarding her well-being and health, but she is very resolute in her ideas of ruling.

Tonight is not any different, you are relaxing in your shared chambers when she finally comes in for the night. You had stayed up late waiting for her.

Mileena sneaks into the room, trying to be as quiet as possible, thinking you are already asleep. You watch her move through the room in the dark, she stubs her toe on one of your dressers and it makes you chuckle.

“You’re awake?” She huffs.

You stifle your chuckles, “Yes, I am, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Possessing a flare for the dramatic, you flick the bedside table lamp on, displaying your very awake form. Sitting upright and crossing your arms over your chest, one of your eyebrows raise in her direction. Trying to convey to her with a single look that you have something important to speak with her about.

She sighs, understanding what this conversation is probably concerning, “I am guessing you were not waiting because you miss me?”

“Actually, this pertains to that,” you miss her, and you’re worried about her.

“Let me change first?” She asks.

“Of course.”

She thanks you and moves around the room, undressing herself as she goes. She changes into her night clothes fairly quickly and come to sit beside you on the bed, she turns to face you and you do the same.

Your hand reaches out towards her face, cupping her cheek, “Mileena, I am concerned for you, you have been overworking yourself and it’s effecting your wellbeing.”

You don’t want to mention it, but it is also affecting your relationship. Waiting for her to return to you and watching her stress herself is not easy. You will continue to wait for as long as it takes, loyal to a fault but that doesn’t make it any easier for you.

Her hand comes up and rests over top of yours, “this is my role now, I have more responsibilities.”

You pull back from her, eyes imploring, “I know that, but you are still a person, you are putting too much pressure on yourself to be perfect.”

This is upsetting for you, it’s the most you’ve seen of her in days, and it seems like this disagreement will turn into a fight.

She slumps her shoulders, and her head drops, she seems irate. Like you just aren’t understanding, like you’ll never understand.

“Mileena, I know why you are doing it this way, but you’re my partner and I don’t agree with anyone harming you, including yourself.” This is the most you think you will push it tonight; you can tell she is exhausted.

“I will consider what you have said but I cannot guarantee anything, my duties are immense.” The reply feels political in nature, but you understand, it must be hard to separate the two worlds. Especially when she is more often than not, Empress Mileena and not your Mileena.

You nod your head at her, leaning forward, you peck her cheek and say, “I understand, goodnight.”

Rolling over you flick the lamp off and lay down, trying your best to find sleep.

Mileena sighs deeply beside you, “Goodnight, my love.” She tucks your hair behind your ear in a display of affection before laying down and trying to sleep herself.

⊹˚. ♡

The sleep you have been getting recently is broken and poor, wracked with bad dreams and if there are no dreams, you still wake up with a haunted feeling. The discussion you had with Mileena was a week ago now and nothing has changed, if anything, it has gotten worse. Often, she will not even come to bed.

The poor sleep, you think, is a result of her absence. You used to be able to sleep alone no problem but now you have grown too accustomed to her presence in the bed beside you. You miss her warmth, you miss snuggling into her at night, or early in the morning.

Pushing her further is something you regret now, you thought if you had been a bit more insistent and voiced your concerns, she would be more open to slowing down. That has proven to be the opposite of the truth. Moving forward you aren’t completely sure what to do to help her unwind.

Wandering the palace halls is not one of your favourite pastimes but you’re at a loss for what else you should do presently. All other areas of interest have either, already been tended to today, or are not appealing to you currently.

You’re a little bit shocked when Mileena rounds the corner, even more surprised to see she is unaccompanied.

She also seems surprised at your presence, “What are you doing here? You don’t usually wander the palace.”

“I am at a loss for what to fill the rest of the day with.” You are honest with her.

“I could use some help, if you are willing?” She proposes to you, a rare request for assistance.

“How can I help, Empress?” You jibe her a bit.

Her smile is pleasant, it makes your heart twinge, missing her, “I am on my way to the record room, I’m looking for a specific piece of information and it is quite far back, more eyes would make the search go quicker.”

“I am at your service,” you beam at her.

You’re hoping this is your chance to finally be alone with her long enough to fill the hole in your heart where she previously resided. Or be able to talk with each other and move past your disagreement.

The walk to the record room is quiet and you can’t take it, not able to stand the silence. Not when you feel as though you’ve not spoken to her in weeks.

“I–” You both go to speak at the same time, it has you both chuckling.

“You go first,” she offers.

But you’re curious as to what she was going to say, “No, no, you first, please.”

“I miss you,” is all she says.

“I miss you too,” you reply.

The both of you having the same thing to say makes you feel better. The pair of you mutually missing the other. She also doesn’t seem to be cross with you and that makes you feel better too.

⊹˚. ♡

The record room is a gloomier vibe, compared to the rest of the palace, and it is a bit dusty the further back you go in the palaces history.

Mileena was right to ask for help, she would not be able to do this alone, in fact, “Don’t you usually have people who do this for you?” You ask her.

“Yes, but I felt like it would be better if I did it myself.”

You look at her dubiously and raise a single brow.

She looks to you and sees the expression on your face, “Okay, yes I can see how maybe I might not have to do this myself, and maybe in the future I will ask someone else to do this for me but right now, I get to spend time with you, and I am happy with that.” She smiles sweetly at you.

“Even if that means sifting through dirty old books?” You question.

“Yes, even if it means sifting through dirty old books.”

You blow an amused sigh out through your nose and walk over to her; she turns toward you and you pull her up into a hug. Embracing her fully, trying to hold her in a manner that makes up for the lack of hugs as of late.

Her head is pushed into the side of your own, she whispers to you, “I am sorry.”

“It is okay,” you tell her because it is.

“It is not, I have been neglecting you and our relationship in favour of my duties,” she pulls back from you, to look you in the eyes, “I will be a better partner and I will be a better leader.”

“You are already a great partner, and you are a fantastic leader, you just need to unwind a bit, being stressed will only create more problems in the long run.”

Your hands reach up and hold her face, she leans into your touch, “I just wish I knew how to relax.” She sighs.

Feeling bold you quip, “I know how to help,” and then you’re leaning in and claiming her lips with your own.

She sighs into your kiss, accepting what you’re giving her. Mileena’s hands come to rest on your hips and tug you closer. One of your own hands slides behind her head, the other moving behind her and in the middle of her back, pulling her in even closer.

Your head tilts to the side slightly and you lick against her lips, asking for entrance. She grants it and lets you slip your tongue into her mouth. A muffled gasp coming from her in response. The heat of the kiss making you feel dizzy, not having been touched or touched her in this manner in a while. The feelings, feel brand new again.

Pulling back from her lips, you trail down her face to her neck, pressing firm kisses and light sucks against it, careful not to leave any marks behind.

“Take of your pants?” You ask her.

“Here?” She’s taken aback by your brazenness, not usually one to be so adventurous.

“Yes, here.” You reply, you’re caught up in the moment. You haven’t had her pussy against your mouth in far too long, you’re practically experiencing withdrawals.

She pulls her pants down, undressing her bottom half, you feel like you’re died and gone to heaven.

Pulling your coat off you place it over the seat she was previously sat in, “Sit,” you state, patting the chair.

She has a breathtaking smile on her face, as she sits down, you lean in and kiss her deeply. Only for a moment before focusing back on the task at hand.

You kneel between her legs, “I am ready to serve, Empress.”

She rolls her eyes playfully at you in response and you return a large smile at her.

You kiss both her knees before moving her legs apart, spreading her wide in her chair. She isn’t sat forward enough for your liking, gripping her thighs, you pull her forward. Her cunt almost completely off the chair, the action pulls a delightful gasp from her.

Your hands hold her thighs open as you shuffle closer between her spread legs. Head dipping to kiss her thighs, sucking marks into the left one, from as far down as you can reach to as close to her pussy as you can get without touching her where she needs you most.

Little mewls and sighs come from her mouth as you suck, lick and kiss at her thighs. You switch to her right thigh, giving it the same attention as the previous. Sucking marks into the soft skin, moving closer to the apex of her thighs without giving her the relief of licking her pussy.

“Stop teasing, I don’t need the – hah – foreplay,” she huffs out at you.

Your smile somewhat devious, you blow cool air on her cunt just to watch it clench in response, “You are beautiful,” you sigh out in awe.

Another gasp pulled from her at your act, one that turns into a groan of pleasure as you finally put your whole mouth on her pussy.

Your arms come up and under her thighs, moving them to be held over your shoulders as you gently lick into her pussy hole. The noises she’s making in response to your mouth is making you lightheaded, wanting to stay between her legs forever if it means hearing her whimpers and moans for the rest of your life.

Your tongue moves from her hole to her clit, you flatten your tongue against it and encourage her to grind down on you. Her hips begin writhing up and down, chasing the pleasure your tongue is giving her.

You allow her to use you how she pleases before your hands hold her down, your tongue moving back into her pussy hole, tongue fucking her in earnest. Your nose pressing against her clit.

The stimulation you’re giving her has her hips itching to grind down against you again, her moans and whimpers breaking off into pitchy little gasps. Her thighs shaking around your head, you release her thighs lightly, giving her more room to grind into your face.

Her hand moves from the grip it had on the side of the chair to your head, “Fffffeels divine, my love–”

You release your hold on her completely letting her rut into your face how she desires, she moans loudly at the freedom, enjoying the pleasure she’s using you to give herself. Her cunt starts tightening around your tongue, she’s getting close.

Her thighs attempt to close around your head again, which you don’t allow to happen, your hands come up and hold them open.

She continues grinding down into your face, her slick leaking from her cunt, the taste coating your tongue. You moan into her pussy at the sensation, giving her added stimulation in response, her cunt twitching at the feeling.

Her voice starts to climb in pitch, her words garbled, “Hah – I – mm gonna –”

She cuts herself off with a loud moan and the shout of your name, her cunt spasming around your tongue, she’s cum all over your face. Which you happily receive, continuing to lick at her as she comes down, her hips still grinding against you, riding out her own high.

When she eventually stops moving, you lick and slurp at her cunt, collecting all the slick and cum she released. You pull back before you start to overstimulate her, but not before you press a kiss to her clit, she jumps lightly in response to it.

She looks boneless on the chair, a dazed look in her eyes as she says, “I definitely feel much more relaxed now.”

“I am glad,” you reply to her, looking up at her as your head rests against her thigh. You place small kisses there, “I love you.” You tell her, not for the first time, and certainly not the last.

Her hand strokes your hair tenderly, “I love you, too.”

Things aren’t prefect or magically fixed, but you think because it’s you two, you’ll overcome any issues you may have. Now or in the future.

⊹˚. ♡

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! I don't feel as confident posting this as I do about my other works as I am still new to writing and even newer to writing for women, so I hope this is received well! A small update for everyone, currently I am working through requests in the order that I have received them, so if you have sent me one recently, I am not ignoring it! I am just working through some other stuff at the moment. Though I have a fic idea for Johnny Cage that I want to write, so that might be written in between fulfilling requests :))

#ask vision #mk1 smut #fanfic #smut #mk1 2023 #mileena x reader #mileena x reader smut #mileena smut #mileena mk

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