#I really think these two are made for each other

[lov3lycosmos]

Love Awaits -Han Jisung

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Pairings: bf!jisung x fem!reader

Summary: after months of not seeing each other you decide to surprise him by laying on his hotel bed~

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m and f), creampie, crying during sex, possessiveness, soft dom!jisung, begging (verbal), praise kink

Cosmos: be prepared for a request/draft spam as I'm bored and off work today <3 I apologize for my inactiveness

my library!

The hotel bed was still made when you got there, barely touched. A messy heap of stage clothes sat folded on the armchair, and his tour backpack leaned against the wall like it had been dropped in a rush. You sat there for a long time, curled in the center of the sheets, heart pounding, trying to believe you were really here. That it was really happening. That you were going to see him again, tonight.

You’d booked the flight two weeks ago. Jisung hadn’t known. He’d FaceTimed you the night before the concert, yawning and tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie, slumped in that same chair. He told you he missed you. That he was trying to stay strong, to not cry anymore over how much he wanted you beside him. You almost told him. Almost ruined the surprise.

But now, hours later, you were lying in his bed. Alone. Waiting. Nervous, breath shaky with anticipation, the hum of his voice still playing in your head.

“I want to hold you so bad. Can you pretend I’m with you tonight?”

You’d pretended for long enough.

The keycard slipped into the door sometime after midnight.

You froze.

His footsteps padded inside slowly, the soft thump of sneakers kicked off and dropped somewhere near the bathroom. A sniffle. Then a voice.

“Lights are off… weird.”

You pressed your hand to your mouth and sat up, breath caught in your throat.

“Wait—” Jisung’s voice cracked. “No way…”

He flicked on the lamp.

And then it hit him.

He stood in the doorway, utterly still. His hoodie hung off one shoulder, his mask still dangling from one ear. For a split second, he didn’t speak—didn’t even breathe.

Then his knees buckled slightly as he dropped his bag and whispered, “...Baby?”

You smiled through the thick burn behind your eyes. “Hi.”

He rushed to you like he didn’t trust his own legs. His hands were in your hair, on your waist, cupping your face like he couldn’t decide where to touch first.

“You’re here—you’re here—you’re fucking here—”

You laughed wetly. “You’re real.”

Then he kissed you.

And god, he kissed you like he’d been dying. Like he’d been empty for months and didn’t realize how bad it was until now. His lips were soft, but his mouth was frantic—open, desperate, trembling. He made a little whimpering sound when your hands clutched his hoodie and dragged him down on top of you. He climbed onto the bed without thinking, straddling your hips as he cradled your cheeks and kissed you deeper, longer, wetter.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours and his breath shook as he whispered, “I’m gonna fucking cry.”

You wiped his cheek gently, your thumb catching the tear that had already started falling.

“Me too,” you whispered.

He sniffled and laughed and kissed your jaw like he couldn’t stop. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks,” you said. “I missed you so much, Ji.”

“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice cracking. “I couldn’t even touch myself without crying. I kept trying to pretend it didn’t hurt being away from you, but—” he trailed off, and his lips trembled again. “I’m gonna lose it. I love you so much. I can’t even—”

You kissed him quiet, lips molding to his, soft and warm. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, let your body arch into his, clinging as much as he did. He was everywhere, all at once—hands brushing your arms, slipping under your shirt, holding your waist like he needed to anchor himself.

Your voice barely came out. “Then show me.”

Something broke in him.

He kissed you again—slow, reverent, trembling.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered. “I’ll go slow. I’ll take my time. Just… let me have you tonight. Please.”

You nodded, gasping when his hands pushed your shirt up over your head. He peeled it off carefully, like you were something delicate, something he’d never get to touch again if he messed this up. His mouth dropped open at the sight of you. You were braless under the fabric, and he reached out with both hands to trace up your sides, eyes flickering between your face and your chest like he couldn’t pick which was more sacred.

He leaned in, kissing softly along the curve of your breast, breath shaking. “Still mine?”

“Always.”

“Then let me worship you.”

You barely had time to respond before he lowered himself between your thighs, eyes locked to yours, like he wanted permission to breathe. You nodded, already breathless, and his lips found your inner thigh.

Jisung kissed slow. Savoring. His mouth traveled up the inside of your leg, leaving a messy trail. Then he pulled your shorts and underwear off in one careful motion, holding your hips like he’d waited his entire life for this exact moment.

“God,” he whispered. “Look at you. You’re already wet—fuck, baby…”

“Been wet since you walked in,” you whispered, breath hitching as he blew warm air across your folds.

“Don’t say that. I’ll cum just from this.”

Then his mouth was on you.

And nothing else existed.

His tongue moved slowly, deliberately, sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with gentle circles. His hands kept your thighs spread, thumbs brushing your hips while he worshiped you with his mouth like he wasn’t just trying to make you cum—he was trying to say I love you with every stroke.

You cried out, hips twitching.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured into your skin, kissing your inner thigh before diving back in. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make up for all the time I wasn’t here.”

You nodded desperately, threading your fingers into his hair, trying not to cry from how good it felt—how intimate it was.

When his lips latched around your clit and he sucked softly, your hips jerked. He groaned, tongue flicking fast, chasing every sound you made.

“I’m—close—Ji, I’m—”

“Cum for me,” he whispered. “Please, baby. Want it so bad.”

And you did—hard.

Your whole body shook, legs clamping around his head, and he moaned into you like it was the best thing that ever happened to him. He licked you through it slowly, helping you come down with soft kisses and warm hands.

When he crawled back up, his mouth was shiny, his lips swollen.

You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on him, moaning softly when he whined into your mouth. He trembled in your arms, still hard against your thigh.

“I wanna make you feel good too,” you whispered.

He gasped when you pushed him gently onto his back, straddling his hips. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, face already flushed. You leaned down and kissed his chest, then his stomach, slowly making your way lower.

“Baby—fuck—I’m not gonna last—”

“Let me take care of you,” you said, voice soft.

You took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip first, then sinking deeper, your hand working the base. He cried out and grabbed the sheets, thighs trembling.

“Too much—too good—baby, please—”

You moaned around him, and that nearly broke him. His hips bucked, and he whimpered.

“Stop—please—I wanna cum inside you. Please—please—please—”

You pulled off, kissing your way back up to his face. “Then do it.”

He flipped you onto your back, shaking hands finding your hips, eyes still glassy with awe.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. “Can I…?”

You cupped his face. “Jisung. I’m yours.”

He slid in with a trembling breath, slow and careful, his forehead pressed to yours as your bodies joined for the first time in months. You felt every inch, the stretch and fullness making you both gasp softly, clutching each other tighter like you were afraid the other might slip away.

He bottomed out with a quiet whimper, arms wrapping around your back as he sank into the cradle of your hips.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You feel like… you were made for me.”

You stroked his hair, lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect, Jisung.”

He whimpered again, shivering above you. “I missed this. Missed you.”

You kissed him, softly—then again, deeper. Your lips barely left his as his hips started to move.

It was slow. Deliberate. He rocked into you like he had all night, like he didn’t want to rush a single second. His thrusts were smooth, rolling, dragging his length deep each time with wet, quiet sounds between your thighs. And every time he moved, he whispered something into your skin.

“You’re so tight. So warm.”

“I’m not gonna last long, baby—feels too good.”

“I wanna stay inside you forever.”

Your fingernails dragged lightly down his back. You arched into him, wrapping your legs higher around his waist.

He gasped as he sank deeper, the new angle making you both moan. “F-fuck, princess—oh my god…”

You cupped his cheeks, eyes meeting his. “Jisung—look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open, red and glossy. “Yeah—yeah?”

“You’re mine. You always will be.”

His face crumpled.

He kissed you desperately, sloppy and breathless, tears slipping quietly from the corners of his eyes. He moaned into your mouth as his hips picked up just a little more pace—still slow, but now with more urgency. His thrusts grew needier, wetter, your bodies pressed so close you could barely breathe.

The squelch of his cock inside you, the way he whimpered every time your walls fluttered around him—it was too much.

“I wanna cum inside,” he whispered. “I need it, baby. Please.”

You nodded, clinging tighter. “Do it. Fill me up, Jisung. Please.”

He groaned at that—like the words broke something in him.

He buried his face in your neck and started fucking you harder, faster—his hips slapping softly against yours, the bed creaking with the motion. Your name spilled from his lips like prayer.

“You feel so good—so fucking good, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” you begged, nails digging in as your own climax built again. “Inside—fill me up, Ji—please—”

His whole body tensed.

“Baby—fuck—I’m cumming—!”

He moaned your name as he pushed in deep and stayed there, cock throbbing inside you. You felt him spill—so much—hot and warm and thick, painting your insides as he trembled in your arms. His breath hitched with every spurt, and he sobbed once, overwhelmed by how full and close everything felt.

You came with him.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave—your whole body tightening, legs locking around his hips, voice cracking as you fell apart beneath him. You clutched him like a lifeline, barely able to breathe, whispering his name as your walls fluttered around him.

He didn’t pull out.

He couldn’t.

He collapsed on top of you, still buried deep, both of you panting and sweaty and a little teary. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, brushing it back gently as he kissed your shoulder over and over.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin. “So much. I don’t think I can breathe without you anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered back. “I’m not leaving.”

You stayed there for a long time—he didn’t move, didn’t pull out, just laid there, inside you, soaking in everything.

Eventually, he shifted slightly, face still tucked against your throat.

“Did I cum too much?” he asked softly, breathless.

You laughed, stroking his spine. “You definitely did.”

He groaned. “I’m sorry. I just… fuck, I needed you.”

You kissed his temple. “I needed you too.”

He slowly pulled out, and both of you winced at the mess.

His cum dripped from you instantly, and Jisung let out a breathy, broken noise. “That’s so hot I might pass out.”

You swatted his chest. “Clean me up first, then pass out.”

He giggled, soft and sleepy, grabbing tissues from the bedside and tending to you with careful hands. You could tell he was still shaky—emotionally and physically. He kept pausing just to press a kiss to your thigh, your stomach, your cheek.

Once you were clean, he pulled you into his arms under the covers, wrapping around you from behind like a koala. His face was buried in your hair, his breath warm on your neck.

“Don’t let go,” he murmured.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Promise me this wasn’t a dream.”

You turned in his arms, facing him. His hair was a mess, eyes heavy with sleep, cheeks still pink.

You cupped his jaw and kissed him again. Long. Slow. Final.

“It’s real,” you whispered. “You’re mine.”

His voice cracked again. “Say it again.”

“You’re mine.”

He exhaled, a soft, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I’m yours.”

You both fell asleep like that—naked, warm, full of each other, tangled under hotel sheets with tear stains on your cheeks and his love all over your skin.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325 @lezleeferguson-120 @psychicyouthfox @pixie-felix @angel-writes-here @galaxy4489 @minniesverse @gncbnahc @ari-hwanggg @alondra6011 @sk1ndx0 @doliveiraa @soona-huh @rockstarkkami @yxna-bliss @kpetts @nightmarenyxx @victoriaaf

(I'M STILL ADDING PEOPLE TO TAG! comment on any post, send an ask or a message if you want added!)

[catchastarorten]

—“Come back alive”

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x eventuallover!fem!reader

Summary: he never told you how he really felt about you, believing you deserved more than a man consumed with finding his brother and that island. But now, with the island gone, he returned home to you, and did what he should’ve done a long time ago—truly be with you.

Content: very brief mentions of s3 events, happy endings for you and Jun-ho, childhood best friends to lovers, Jun-ho having emotional conflict, kisses, a little angsty(?), fast-paced, English isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.1k

You were his everything long before he ever admitted it to himself.

Jun-ho always knew that. Knew that since you were kids, voices hoarse from screaming each other’s names across the playground.

You two had grown up together, attached at the hip. Kids who met on a rainy schoolyard and never let go. He scraped his knees, and you were the one who washed the blood away. You got your heart broken in middle school, and he showed up with a small boquet he made with flowers he picked and told you that anyone who didn’t love you was a damn idiot.

As time passed by, the world changed—got colder—but you didn’t. Or maybe you did, in the same way he did. But you still looked at him like he mattered when he didn’t even feel real to himself anymore.

When In-ho disappeared, it was like the whole city turned to grey static. People offered "sorry"s, a few helped at first, but you—you stayed. You looked through police reports with him, stayed up late when he looked through footage frame by frame, and asked anyone you thought had a chance of knowing In-ho.

You never once asked him to stop. Never once told him to move on like everyone else did. You just looked at him with that patient grief in your eyes that mirrored his, and it made something hurt deep in his ribs, something too full to name.

There were nights when he wanted to say it. You’d be sitting on his couch with cups of cheap convenience store coffee, exhaustion hanging between you, and he’d look at your face—tired, steady—and want to say, I love you.

But how could he? How could he look you in the eye and ask for your heart when his was still buried under the weight of his missing brother? When he still woke up cold in the middle of the night from that dream? The cliff, the gunshot, the ocean.

He thought if he really said it, if he really let himself have you—you'd feel like a placeholder. Like comfort he ran to because his brother was gone.

And you deserved so much more than being second to his grief.

He was terrified. That loving you meant dragging you into his shadows. That you’d smile that soft smile of yours and nod, but never really feel like you meant enough to him. Because how could you be, if he hadn’t made peace with himself yet?

But he never stopped thinking about it. About you. About the things he didn't say.

And maybe you knew. Maybe that’s why you never said anything either. You never pushed. Never asked. But you were there. You were always there. You waited.

—

The night before Jun-ho left for the island again, he stood outside your apartment for five full minutes, just staring at the door. He thought about turning around. About leaving without seeing you. Maybe it would hurt less that way.

But when you opened the door—like you already knew he was coming—he forgot all of that.

You didn’t ask why he was there. You just let him in.

He stood there in your tiny living room, his eyes didn’t meet yours right away. “...I'm leaving tomorrow.”

You swallowed, your hand tightening slightly on the edge of your sleeve. But you were calm. “So you came to say goodbye.”

He hated the sound of that word in your mouth. Goodbye. It wasn’t supposed to sound so final.

“I came because I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”

That’s when you reached for him.

A hand to his chest first, gentle and warm. Then your other hand cradled the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone like you were checking to see if he was real. Your eyes flicked to his lips for just a second.

That was all it took.

You kissed him.

Slow.

Soft.

He froze.

Not because he didn’t want it—but because he did, he wanted you ever since he was fifteen and you tackled him during a stupid pillow fight. But because he was afraid. Afraid that this would be the only kiss he would ever share with you. Afraid that he might never get the chance to have you in his arms again if he left today.

But you didn't kiss like that. You kissed him like you knew there would be more. Like you were certain he'd come back.

Then he melted.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. He kissed you back as his chest pressed against yours, and it felt like home.

When you pulled away, your forehead rested against his.

“Come back alive,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer for a second. He just held you. Closed his eyes and imagined your life together—quiet kisses in soft-lit rooms, laughter over dinners, long nights where the only war was deciding what movie to watch.

“I will,” he finally said, and he hated how much his voice wavered.

—

The next day, he was gone with Woo-seok and the team

He could still feel the touch of your kiss. He leaned against the boat, eyes scanning the horizon, but all he saw was your face.

He thought about you the whole time they drifted on the ocean, trying to find the island. He thought about your laugh. He thought about how you never told him not to go. You just asked him to survive.

And he tried. When everyone on the boat nearly died from a betrayal. When he got the confrontation he wanted with In-ho, moments before the island exploded.

And he came back for you.

—

The second he saw you again, standing in that same doorway, he dropped everything and wrapped his arms around you.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

Your fingers curled into his back like you were afraid to let go. His lips found your shoulder, your temple, your cheek, then finally your lips.

And this time, it wasn’t slow. It wasn’t hesitant. It was years of ache and longing and quiet waiting that finally let loose.

He pulled back only once, to whisper the words he’d carried for so long.

“I love you.”

You smiled, voice breaking, but eyes steady. “I know.”

He was home.

[jellyfishline]

Sorry for adding unsolicited advice, but one of the most valuable things I've learned as a writer is how to push over this kind of block! So I'm gonna share a few strategies that have helped me, and might help other people too!

Strategy one: skip over it.

Literally don't write a transition. Just skip to the next interesting scene. Promise yourself you'll go back and write a smooth transition later. A shocking amount of the time when I come back to edit I find that I don't even need more of a transition at all. Sometimes, your brain is so stuck in the story that it doesn't want to leave any negative space, but the negative space of a new scene, a new chapter, or a new paragraph is what the story craves.

Strategy two: just describe it.

Don't try to write it nicely, prettily, or well. Write like you're making an instruction manual, or notes for an actor in a screenplay. Write "and then they walked into the room." Write "and the conversation was over." Write "the next day, [blank] happened." Again, a shocking amount of the time for me, writing it in plain language turns out to be what the story needed. And if it does need more detail, you can always add that detail later! It is so much easier to add frills once you've got the bedrock of a scene in place.

Strategy three: just dialogue.

Idk how often this happens to other people, but I often get tripped up trying to juggle dialogue, actions, body language, and internal monologue when writing. When that happens, I switch to writing just the dialogue in short exchanges, no dialogue tags or description, with only paragraph breaks and punctuation to structure it. This both frees me up from the paralysis of trying to write everything at once, and has the added benefit of really honing in on character voices. I love to try to give all my major characters a distinctive enough voice that you can work out who's talking by the cadence of their speech, even without dialogue tags.

Strategy four: outline it.

This is sort of an expanded version of strategy two. If you're really struggling, or if this transition is something you know is going to take a whole scene or a whole chapter and more than just a line or two of description, pause to write out the events in a short, descriptive, beat-by-beat way. "They talked. They argued. No one listened to each other. They all went to bed frustrated." Sometimes this beat-by-beat plotting will transform into something you can really use--fragments of dialogue, a solid description, a realization that you can restructure so an important piece of information doesn't actually have to go here--but if not you still have a workable framework to either propel you into the next scene or start building up into a meatier bit of prose.

Strategy five: just do it.

Putting this strategy at the end because while I think it’s a lot of writers' first instincts when coming up to a roadblock, I also think the inability to force ourselves through the boring miserable bits of writing and "just do it" is a major reason why projects get abandoned. Sometimes, you might find yourself in a position where you really do just have to write your way out of the problem you've made for yourself. In those cases, I think it’s a good idea to take a deep breath, be generous with yourself, and applaud yourself for showing up, even if you're only writing a sentence or two every day. Writing is hard! Even professionals have bad days. You don't have to burn yourself out putting words on a page. Take the pressure to perform off yourself, and just write what you can. Eventually you'll get past it, and the words will flow again.

writing is so funny because i could write nonstop for 9hrs and then hit a block where im like "how do i transition between this moment and the next?" and then i just dont touch it for 6 months

[maxinehufflepuffprincess]

We're Here

BangChan x fem! reader. 9th member.

Taglist. Masterlist. Progress Update. MamaBear Collection.

Summary: Sometimes you're the one who needs to be comforted.

You always did everything you could to keep the boys happy. Their happiness was important to you. Whenever one of them was upset or their mood was down, you always did your best to comfort them, to dry their tears, put a smile on their face and make sure they felt safe. You did this both privately and publicly. It just added to your ‘Mama Bear’ persona. Though, could anyone call it a persona when it was just you being you?

But of course, like every other person in this world, you had your bad days too. Days when getting out of bed felt harder than climbing a mountain. When smiling felt so out of reach. You had days when you were surrounded by people but felt lonely the entire time. There were days when you’d just burst into tears. Sometimes you didn’t even know why you were crying; it was happening, and it was needed. There were days when you were dance moves wouldn’t stick, when your verses felt like a jumbled mess, and cooking seemed like an impossibility. There were times when your anger took over everything or when your silence became a worry.

You weighted the world on your shoulders. You were always trying to be better, to do better. To be as close to perfect as you could be. You had a loving boyfriend, and together you looked after seven men who saw you as a friend and a pseudo-mum. So when they saw you break, when they saw you crying and struggling to put the pieces back together, they were there to help you.

—------

Chan knew instantly something was wrong when you walked into the studio. You didn’t greet him with the same smile. Sure, you kissed him and said hi to him, Changbin and Han, but it was off. You called the boys by their names. There were no sweet pet names like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘hun’, or ‘baby’. Binnie and Han took notice of this as well. The three watched you walk into the booth and started preparing your warm-up. 

Chan turned to look at Binnie, who was sitting beside him. Together, they both looked at Han, who was sitting on the couch, a puzzled look on his face.

“She looks tired. Really tired.” Binnie spoke to the two males. 

Chan nodded in agreement. You both got home late last night. He had been working on some tracks, and you had been cleaning up the choreography. However, what wasn’t usual was him waking up to an empty bed. He found you that morning, having made breakfast, enough to feed an army. Sure, you always woke up to make breakfast for everyone, but not this early. Never this early. You also didn’t tend to bake this early unless it was for a birthday.

“She is. I’m starting to think she didn’t sleep last night. She said she did, but I don’t know. She made enough breakfast to feed us all for the rest of the day. Plus, she baked. She doesn’t bake that late or early unless it’s for something important or she’s stressed. She was surrounded by cupcakes and cookies, and brownies this morning. She never makes brownies without Felix.” Chan turned to look at the window to the booth. All nine of you had come to work that day, each with a bento box filled with leftovers from breakfast.

You blinked and let out a small sigh. The palms of your hands came to run your eyes. You slept last night. Just not for long. You got an hour, maybe two in. You had gotten up to use the bathroom. But you just couldn’t fall asleep after that. So you spent the night cooking and baking for your boys. Sure, maybe you had gone overboard. But your boys had been well fed. Plus, Felix and Han had fun giving out the sweet treats to the staff members. Of course, each of the boys and you had your own supply of sweet treats, so they wanted to give out the extras.

“Chan. Are you ready to start?” You asked curiously as you looked at him, Binnie and Ji through the window. You waved at them, trying to put a peppy smile on your face. It didn’t work. 

Chan pressed the red button. “We’re ready, baby. Are you sure you want to do this today?” He asked, giving you the option to back out. 

You nodded your head. “Yeah.” 

Chan licked his bottom lip but agreed. He knew he couldn’t force you to stop. He needed to wait for you to be ready to finally let go of all the control. 

“What do you want to start with?” He asked you curiously, wanting to do this at your pace and with your input.

“Chorus, please.” You rubbed your eyes as you tried to focus on the words in front of you.

Chan nodded and played the music. You sang. But you messed up on the first go. You've got some words jumbled. It was okay, mistakes happen. 

However, you were starting to get upset with yourself once you had been in the booth for half an hour. Your voice had cracked, you jumbled your words up, and you had missed a cue. You just weren’t feeling it, and you couldn’t focus. 

You tipped your head back and closed your eyes as you tried to wrench the tears away. But as your body shook, it gave it away that you had started crying. Chan stood up and walked into the booth. He took the headphones off your head and wrapped you up in his arms. 

Your head was cradled to his chest, hands clutching onto his shirt that was becoming wet with your tears. His right hand gently stroked your hair. His left hand came to rub your back in soft circles. He looked up for a moment and blinked back his own tears. Seeing you like this always made him feel like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Let it out.” And you did. You sobbed as you held onto him. 

After a few minutes, you slowly pulled away and looked up at him. “I’m sorry.” Your voice broke as you spoke.

Chan shook his head. “Don’t apologise. All I ask is for you to take a nap, okay? We can do your part tomorrow.” His hands cupped your cheeks. His thumbs wiped your tears away. He then lifted you bridal style into his arms. You clung onto him. 

Chan walked to the door, ready to open it, only to see Changbin opening it for him. He nodded at him in thanks. He walked over to the couch. Han patted his lap as he looked at Chan. Chan then lay you down, resting your head in Han’s lap. The younger male immediately began stroking your hair. Just like you always do for him when he falls asleep on you. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you.” You mumbled out before falling asleep.

The rest of the day, the boys took it in turns to be a pillow for you. But none woke you up. You were finally asleep, and they couldn’t be more grateful.

—------

Minho noticed you were having a bad day during dance practice. You were struggling to keep up with the dance. However, he chose not to draw attention to this. Instead, he had the group practice one more time before deciding to call for a break. Of course, the rest of the members had noticed too. But no one had said anything after the fourth time. 

Everyone quickly got their water bottles and sat down. Some of the couches, some of the floor. You let out a small huff of air as you turned to grab your water bottle. As you opened it, Minho came up to you with his phone in his hand. 

He turned the phone to face you, showing you an adorable picture of Soonie, Doongie and Dori. All three were cuddled up together, sleeping. 

“Aw, they are so cute.” You were always excited to look at pictures of Minho’s three gorgeous cats. You also enjoyed seeing pictures of Chan, Hyunjin and Han’s dogs. They always seemed to make you smile. 

“I knew you’d appreciate their cuteness.” Minho nodded in appreciation and satisfaction. 

“I always do.” You had a smile on your face. Minho saw that as a win. He knew how to make you smile, even if it was just for a moment. 

“Yah!” Changbin’s voice came, drawing your attention to the male. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“We’re ordering lunch. What do you want?” Changbin passed you Chan’s phone. “Dad’s paying, so go nuts.” 

“Why does it always go nuts when I’m paying, but you always say ‘thank you, Mama. You didn’t have to.’ when she’s paying?” Chan asked, throwing his hands up.

“Because we love our mother,” Hyunjin said, pulling a face like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He walked over and wrapped his arms around you. His chin was on your shoulder as he looked at the phone in your hands. “Oh, you should get that. It looks yummy.” 

Minho looked at the phone and grinned. “And it’s expensive.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to spend too much of Chris’ money.”

“Sweetheart, you can get yourself whatever you want. Food, drinks, and desserts. Whatever your pretty heart desires.” Chan told you with a warm smile as he looked at you from his spot on the couch. 

Hyunjin looked between the two of you for a moment. He then turned to look at Minho. “Our mother has a sugar Daddy.” 

Minho sucked in a breath. “We can use this to our advantage. All she has to do is bat her eyelashes or call him Chris or Chan in that sweet voice, and he’ll give her everything she wants. Which means, we can have whatever we want.” He clapped his hands together once. 

He could see that you had long forgotten about the dance practice. So he continued to play into all this. He and Hyunjin stood in front of you, quickly joined by Seungmin and I.N. The four are happily trying to figure out everything they wanted and the best way to get you to convince Chan that you wanted all this stuff. 

Chan let out a groan from his spot on the coach as he watched the four plotting menaces. “Stop trying to use my wife for your schemes!” 

“She was our mother first.” Minho challenged. 

“She really wasn’t. I met her first.” Chan told him, a proud smile on his face. 

“Please, she prefers her children over you.” Hyunjin let out a scoff and waved his hand in dismissal at Chan. 

“We don’t need to use her for anything. All we need is for Felix and I.N. to say please to her, and she’ll melt. She can’t say no to her babies.” Minho added as he placed a hand on I.N.’s shoulder. 

You looked back and forth between them all and let out a laugh. At that Moment, Minho knew his job was done. But that didn’t stop him from continuing to play the role of the overprotective son who wanted to give his mother the world.

—------

Changbin had led you out of a room after you had shouted at some staff members. It seemed like the whole day you had been snappy and angry. So, he reacted and got you out of a situation that was causing even more stress. 

Binnie helped you outside. The air outside felt nice. Changbin sat down on a bench and looked at you, waiting for you to figure out your next move. 

“I lost it.” You said as you paced in front of him. 

Binnie nodded his head. “Yeah. You did.” He said.

“I should’t have. It was rude.” You added. 

“It was, but you have had everyone pulling at you all day. The stylist made I.N. uncomfortable. There was an issue with Han’s shoe. Scheduling had been pushed back more times than I can count. Hyunjin tripped over a roge wire. Seungmin forgot the dance. You had to do the same take for thirty minutes. Everything that could have gone wrong has gone wrong.” Changbin explained to you. Showing he understood why you had lost your cool. 

The whole day had gone wrong. You had woken up later than usual. You and Chan had accidentally left your coffee at home. When you had all ordered lunch, some of the food was misplaced. Felix had gotten a migraine during filming. Minho had tripped and bruised his knee. Changbin had an issue when his makeup was being done. The Music Video you were all shooting was draining. Today had gone wrong for everyone. 

You let out a huff of air and crossed your arms over your chest. “Today had been utter shit.” 

Changbin nodded in agreement and patted the spot beside in. You looked at the male for a moment before sitting next to him. 

“How about this? This weekend, we all have time off. So, how about I take you to a rage room? Or we can all go. Either way, you can let all of that pent-up rage and anger out in a safe way. Plus, this way, you won’t have any lingering feelings of guilt.” It was a good idea. A really good idea.

You looked at Changbin and smiled lightly at him. “I’d love that. Thank you, Binnie.” 

The male opened his arms, ready for a hug. And you did. You hugged him tightly as he hugged you back, matching your tightness. 

—------

Hyunjin spotted you on the couch in your dorm. It was that time of the month, and all day you had been in pain. Hyunjin has become your official period partner. It wasn’t that the others didn’t want to; Felix often joined, as did Chan. But Hyunjin always seemed to make it all seem easier in a way. Whilst Felix smothered you in cuddles, massages and brownies. Chan would worry over you for the first day before relaxing; he always had a bath ready or had the painkillers you wanted. 

Hyunjin was always ready with a hot water bottle or a heating pad for you. Sometimes both, so you could have one on your stomach and one on your back. He was always there to distract you with dramatic stories or gossip he had heard. Or the two of you would snuggle up and watch whatever piqued your interest. 

Hyunjin poked your shoulder. “I got the snacks. Felix will be here soon with that blanket you love so much. I told him to borrow a different one next time.” He said as he rounded the couch and sat down beside you. He placed the bag of your favourite snacks, foods and drinks down. 

“Thank you, Jinnie. I really appreciate all of this.” You smiled thankfully at him. 

The male shrugged. “What kind of son would I be if I didn’t help you? Now I’ll go make the ramen and your hot water bottle…oh, and maybe hot chocolate?” He let out a small squeal, getting suddenly excited at the idea. “We have whipped cream and marshmallows. Oh, and I’ll get some ice cream. Put something good on.”

You let out a laugh as Hyunjin practically bounced to the kitchen. You turned on the TV and went on YouTube. You immediately looked through some of Nigel Baker’s videos before you decided which one you wanted to watch. You enjoyed this guy. He was hilarious, and he always had nice things to say about your boys.

Hyunjin came back a while later, carefully balancing a tray in his hands. Every step was slow. He didn’t want to risk dropping anything. He let out a sigh of relief as he set everything down on the table. 

He sat down beside you and gave you your hot chocolate. He turned to look at the TV. “Ah, yes! Binge-watching Nigel. Let's see how many of his videos we can get through. Good call, my muse.” 

You let out a giggle at the nickname as you set the hot chocolate down on the table to your side before grabbing the hot water bottle. You placed it on your stomach. 

“I thought we could start with him watching ‘Giant’. It's a good one. Plus I love that song.”

Hyunjin nodded in approval and pressed play. You both settled in, eating your ramen. 

Felix walked through the door with your blanket and a box full of brownies.

“Oh my god, the visuals of this man. Shit needs to be studied in a lab.” 

You let out a cackle. “He loves you, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin puffed out his chest. “Obviously. Everyone loves me.” 

Felix looked between the two of you. “I bought brownies for you. I know you always want extra when you're on.” He put the blanket on your lap before setting the box of brownies on the table.

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled up at him. “Would you like to join us?” You asked him.

Felix nodded and sat on your other side of you, so you were between the two boys.

You cuddled into Hyunjin's side as Felix cuddled into you. 

You continued to watch Nigel's videos. You all had a good laugh at the SKZ code stuff and the compilations. You all enjoyed watching him lose his mind over the music videos. 

You were currently watching him react to the music videos for your song ‘Mama Bear’. It was a song that 3Racha wrote for you as a birthday present. You, Felix, Seungmin and I.N. sang the song. Leeknow and Hyunjin helped with the choreography. It was a song you were very happy and proud of. The guys had all been in the video, of course. The whole vibe of the video was just showcasing the group as one big happy family.

“Honestly, look at this beautiful woman. She's holding her own. Her vocals are shining, and look at her moves. This whole MV is her. She has eight men worshipping her. You can see how much they love her. Mother of seven, taking care of her children in her own MV. Look at them all. They look like an actual, real family. It's crazy but so wholesome, man. Chan, if you're watching this- you're not. But if you are. You need to wife Mama Bear up.” You watched Nigel pick up his water and drink some of it. “Mama Bear, if you’re watching. Stay, love you, and obviously so do your boys. You work so hard. Thank you.” You were tearing up a little. You were here for the jokes, but now here you were, feeling so incredibly appreciated as you were snuggled between two of your favourite people. “Aphrodite, who?”

—------

One minute you were walking, and the next you were on the floor. It hurt a lot, your ankle. You supposed maybe you had stepped wrong and ended up rolling your ankle. You and Han had just gotten home after doing a big shop together. Han was by your side in an instant. 

“What happened? Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked you hurriedly as he held up three fingers.

You looked at the male. “I’m fine, just hurt my ankle.” 

Han nodded. “Alright, umm umm.. Let me think.” He tapped his forehead for a second before he picked you up. 

You let out a small yelp of surprise as you held onto the male. Han walked to your dorm and kicked the door. 

The door opened, and I.N. stood there with a confused face. “What are you doing?” 

Han walked inside and set you down on he couch. “She broke her ankle.”

You groaned. “It’s not broken, Ji.”

Han shrugged as Chan came out of your room. He raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to ask?” He asked curiously. 

“I fell. I’m okay, but my ankle hurts. We haven’t brought in the shopping yet.” Chan nodded at your words and gave you a soft kiss. 

“Han, grab an ice pack from the freezer. I.N., come with me and we’ll sort out the shopping.” The boys quickly went off to do their tasks. I.N. put on his shoes whilst Han went to the kitchen. Chris smiled at you and shook his head. 

“At least we know where I.N. and Hyunjin get their clumsiness from.” He chuckled. 

You smiled at his words and shook your head. “Be quick. There is ice cream in those bags, and I don’t want it to melt.” You and Chan shared another kiss before I.N.’s voice came from the door, telling Chan to hurry up.

Han walked into the room as Chan left. He put the ice pack, which was wrapped up, on your ankle carefully. He then took off your shoes and shook his head.

“Are you okay?” He asked you, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you for helping me.” You said as you squeezed his hand. 

“You’re welcome, and I’ll keep helping you. Whatever you want, I’m at your beck and call. Want some tea? I’ll make it. Want me to get you food? I’ll do it. Want me to boss any of the guys around? I’ll do it. Please ask me to boss them around.” 

That made you laugh. 

—------

Felix found you in the kitchen. It was a family dinner night. Chan and Minho were both at the store to pick up some things. So you were cooking dinner on your own. Which is something you have done many times before. However, it seemed you couldn't get anything right. Nothing was going your way.

As Felix stepped into the kitchen, he saw you hunched over the kitchen table, sobbing. He immediately walked over to you and hugged your back. Your body shook as you cried, but feeling Felix’s arms around you helped to ground you. 

You let out a small gasp of breath. Felix loosened his grip a little as he felt you moving to stand properly. 

“What happened?” He asked you, his voice soft.

“Nothing is going right. It’s like every cooking-related bone in my body decided to leave. Everything is either burnt or not even close to being cooked. I just…I messed it all up.” You told him, the tears freely running down your face. 

Felix’s heart broke. He quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped your tears away. “It’s okay. These things happen.” He told you as he gently stroked his thumb over your wrist. 

“I just wanted everything to be perfect. We’ve all been working so hard. You guys deserve a good meal.” You told him as you looked down in defeat. 

Felix shook his head. “You always give us amazing meals. Let’s order something this once. We can cuddle and forget about everything for a while.” He pulled you out of the kitchen and to the couch. He tapped Changbin on the shoulder. “We’re gonna order food instead.” 

Changbin raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless. Felix sat down on the couch and pulled you so you were between his legs, your head on his stomach. He immediately began playing with your hair. 

Changbin got his phone out and picked what he wanted before passing the phone around the room. He ended up going to the kitchen. He quickly cleaned up. 

Meanwhile, I.N. texted Chan and Minho to let them know that plans had changed. You stayed on the couch, slowly relaxing as Felix made sure you were okay. Han came to sit with you both, his hands gently rubbing your back.

—------

Seungmin noticed you were shutting down during an interview. He was sitting on your left, Chan on your right. You hadn’t been yourself all day. You were fidgeting in your seat. Your fingers came up to play with your locket more times than not. Playing with your locket often helped to ground and calm you. However, Seungmin noticed it wasn’t exactly working as well as usual. 

So he gently placed a hand on your thigh and rubbed his thumb in circles. The touch helped you to come back to reality. You looked at Seungmin and smiled gratefully at him. A second hand came to rest on your opposite knee. Chan had noticed what Seungmin was doing and wanted to help as well. However, he decided to let Seungmin handle this; he would be ready to step in if he needed to. 

Seungmin smiled at you. He continued to stroke your thigh as the interview continued on. He watched as you slowly let go of your locket after a while. You moved your hand to rest next to Seungmin’s. The male linked your thumbs together. 

As the interview continued, you felt a lot calmer. All because Seungmin was keeping you grounded. He didn’t make a big deal about it. He didn’t draw attention to it. He just comforted you in the best way that he could in that moment. 

Chan looked over at Seungmin, giving him a thankful nod and a proud smile. 

—------

You didn’t want to move. You should have been up an hour ago. But you were still in bed, curled up on the bed. You were trying to will yourself into moving, but it was like your body didn’t want it. Like it just couldn’t. So you just lie there. Chan was already at the studio, having left early for a meeting. 

However, the rest of the boys were still home. Jeongin had noticed you hadn’t come out of your room yet. Breakfast wasn’t made, and coffee wasn’t made. You weren’t humming in the kitchen or packing everything you needed for the day. The Maknae stood in the middle of the living room in confusion. Had you left with Chan this morning? No. He knew you hadn’t because you always left him two bento boxes and a travel cup of coffee when you left early with Chan. And there was no note saying so on the whiteboard that was on the fridge.

I.N. turned to look at your and Chan’s room. He walked over to the door and knocked on it before opening the door. He poked his head in and spotted you under your duvet. I.N. stepped into the room. 

“Are you okay, Noona?” He asked, worry and curiosity filling him. He walked over to the bed and sat down on Chan’s side.

You shook your head. Tears are already filling your eyes. 

“Did something happen?” He questioned. 

“No, baby. I just..I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You felt tired. You felt like moving was your biggest enemy right now. But you had to move. You knew you had to. The boys needed you. You all had dance practice today. 

I.N. shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. You’re allowed an off day. We can just stay in bed today.” He said as he lay down next to you. He took out his phone and texted the group chat. He let them know what was happening.

Baby Fox 🦊: Mama Bear isn’t feeling well. 😭 Fairy Prince 🌻: Is she okay? Can we help? 🩵 Personal Trainer 🐰: Does she need anything? 🫶 The Alpha 🐺: Let her stay home today. I’ll handle things on this end. Baby Fox 🦊: Can I stay with her? I don’t want to leave her alone. She’s really down. She looks like she’s going to cry. CatDaddy 😻: Yeah. Keep us updated. Tell her we can do the choreo tomorrow.  Artsy Prince 💐: Tell her we love her.💕 You'd better pamper her. Puppy 📷: Make her tea. Squibble 🐿: We’ll bring home food.

I.N. put his phone to the side and looked at you. “We’ll have a self-care day. The guys have everything covered.  Minho-hyung is going to go over the dance with us tomorrow. Nothing to worry about.” He told you. 

You slowly nodded. You felt guilty. The boys were still working, you were keeping I.N. from cleaning up the dance with the others. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. You’re allowed to have a day off. The others won’t be mad. They love you too much to ever be mad at you.” He told you as he sat up. “I’ll make us both a drink, and I’ll get the ice cream.” He leaned down and kissed your temple before leaving the room. He went to his room and changed into his pyjamas. I.N. then went to the kitchen. He made your favourite drink as well as his own. He then grabbed your favourite ice cream from the freezer as well as his own. He put everything on a tray and went back to your room. He set everything on Chan’s bedside table. He sat on the bed and looked around for a moment.

He had always liked your room. It was welcoming and filled with memories. On three of the walls were the paintings that Hyunjin had done for you. Above your desk was the painting of the boys all holding something that was presented to you. Above the bed was what Hyunjin named the ‘Family portrait. Beach edition.’ It was your favourite by far. On the wall to the right was a wall filled with not just paintings but pictures. Pictures of you and your family, Chan and his family. There were pictures of each of the guys, their pets. Pictures from the Kingdom and important milestones for the group. It was a real family wall. One that you took pride in. Your bed was incredibly comfortable. You seemed to have the best blankets. The fluffiest ones, too. 

I.N. got comfortable before handing you your drink. He watched you slowly sit up. “How about we watch something?” He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He quickly found your comfort movie. ‘Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island’, He then opened an arm to you. 

You took the opportunity to snuggle into I.N.’s side. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. He wasn’t big on touch, but he knew you needed it right now. 

“Thank you, Innie.” You spoke quietly, but still loud enough for him to hear.

I.N. nodded his head with a smile. “Of course, anything for you. You’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.” You had. He knew he could count on you. So he wanted to let you know that you could count on him as well. 

Later that night, you were feeling a bit better. You had napped. You had watched so many movies and cackled at YouTube videos with I.N. You had done face masks, and I.N. had painted your nails. Innie felt proud of himself when you perked up a little as time went on. You’d had a nice bath whilst I.N. made lunch. The day had been perfect. 

So when the boys all piled into the dorm once they had been dorm for the day, they all relaxed seeing you snuggled up with I.N. You head rested on his chest as he pointed at the screen. You were watching Ben Kim. A YouTuber.

“I.N fit now, though. I.N.’s super fit now.” Ben said on the screen as he leaned close to the camera. 

“See, he gets me.” Innie connected as he picked up a spoonful of ice cream and shoved it into your mouth.

You let out a laugh and shook your head.

“Can you try not to choke her.” Seungmin spoke as he walked over to the couch and sat on your other side.

“Welcome home.” You said to the seven males. 

Chan walked over and kissed your forehead. “We brought food. How are you feeling, my love?” He asked you as his hand stroked your hair.

“I feel better. Innie really helped.” You said honestly. 

Chan nodded his head. “Good. Now, how about you go to the table? Minho and Binnie are setting the table as we speak.” 

You nodded your head and let Seungmin drag you off the bed and to the dining room table. 

Chan placed a hand on I.N.’s shoulder. “Thank you for looking after her today.”

Innie nodded his head. “Of course, I just wanted to see her smile again.”

Chan’s eyes softened as he smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

Those four words were the cherry on top of a pretty awesome day for Jeongin.

-----------

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[idyllwave]

30 MILLION TO 1

yandere!phainon x fem!reader | part i. π

he wanted peace, if only for just one cycle, but did he even deserve that sentiment? well, someone thought he did, at least.

word count | ~2.7k

cw | angst , death , yandere!phainon , 30 million cycles , grammatical errors , etc.

the drabble that inspired this fic.

“I’m going to check out this stellaron reading, and then I’ll be back before either of you know it!”

You had a smile on your lips as you made a quick game plan to shoot at Welt and Himeko. The two, of course, being less than thrilled to send you on your merry way.

“Y/n… we really don’t want to send you on your own.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ve been on my own before with these types of missions and I always come back a-ok! Besides Dan Heng and March are busy going to the Herta Space Station. And you two need to back them up.”

“But that will leave you with no back up-“

“We’ve been through worse. Besides, all I need to do is get the stellaron and come right back. Easy-peasy.”

Welt and Himeko looked to one another before both of them relented.

“Just…be careful,” Welt finally said.

“I always am. I’ll be back before anyone knows it!”

You waved to them as you left to your room to prepare for your hopefully short journey, and after borrowing a single train car, you were on your merry way, but like all promises that you make as a trailblazer – things never go as planned as you find yourself stranded on another planet, your communications being cut off and useless, and your transportation being rendered as a safety hazard.

“Out of all the times that I promise nothing bad is going to happen, of course something goes wrong when I don’t have any means of getting backup…,” you muttered to yourself. Whether it be good or bad fortune, you found yourself on a world you didn’t know the name of and were thankfully able to blend in with the crowd as you found the nearest city and got a change of clothes to match the people around you. And with a few quick conversations here and there you learned some key details…

They were isolated and didn’t know that space travel existed, they have these beings called titans, the world is on the brink of destruction, and there is a prophecy highlighting a group of heroes that are to save the world.

“Chrysos Heirs,” you asked, “I don’t think I ever seen one in person,” you said as a girl you were talking to giggled a littler and pointed towards the entrance of the city you were in, “see the man entering now,” she asked. You followed her pointer finger. Your gaze landing on a white haired man – but his whole appearance caused you to frown. He looked so … beaten down. Was it normal for Chrysos Heirs to look like that?

“Well, he isn’t a Chrysos Heir yet, but I hear that he will be soon! His name is Phainon and he helps out anyone and everyone!”

You watched carefully for a moment. You saw the way people crowded him as he walked forward, but it didn’t seem like he was in any shape to listen. You stood up from your spot on the bench and followed after him – the confused questions from the girl you were talking to fading in the distance.

His feet felt like heavy weighted stone, but he still managed to drag himself into the inner part of the city. People greeted him, others stopped him to ask for help. An emergency here. An emergency there. Like clockwork he could already guess what each person was after and what they wanted from him. He remembered their faces, their names, their past present and future requests. He remembered them all dying and how he wasn’t able to save anyone. Their screams as fresh on his mind as they were in the past one thousand cycles. And he was tired.

He could feel how tired he was when he got to a fountain, his body collapsing as he sat on the edge of it, head hung low as he rested his elbows on his thighs. He knew he had to try harder. That he needed to try a different approach to somehow stop all the future destruction that was going to happen, but … maybe in this one cycle…he can rest. Maybe just be elsewhere. Travel to a new place. Be someone else-

“Are you alright?”

Almost like a saving grace, someone had called out to him, but truthfully he didn’t want to reach out – he didn’t want to answer. Just for a little bit, he did not want to be asked of anything, needed for anything, or be expected of anything. So with his silence, he hoped this person would go away.

They didn’t.

Instead, they sat next to him, their arm wrapping around his shoulders as they pulled him in and he felt himself leaning into their chest. Soft and warm was the only way he could describe how this person felt right now. And before he could say anything, they had raised their other hand and gently ran their fingers through his hair. Their nails carding along his scalp. He didn’t know if he hated or liked how disarming he felt at that moment. How safe he felt. He decided to keep his eyes closed and relax in this person’s hold. While momentarily thinking of who it could be. Mydei wouldn’t be this soft, Aglaea was too stoic, Castorice is unable to touch others, Hyacine is too short, Cipher wouldn’t bother, and Anaxa doesn’t have the physique.

So why would an ordinary citizen treat him like this? Why would they even care?

When he got the courage to ask, the person started to sing a soft, quiet lullaby – their voice soothing to his ears as he relaxed again.

It wasn’t unnatural for strangers to comfort each other here, especially since the battles have been getting more frequent and even worse lately, but it just surprises him that someone would even bother to comfort him. Wasn’t there a child in need of this sort of comfort more than him? Wasn’t there someone more deserving of such care and attention? What has he even done to warrant such kindness anyway?!

“We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

For as long as he wants? He hated how his chest tightened, how his throat closed up, how his eyes stung behind his eyelids, and how tears threatened to escape from the corners of his eyes. A hero doesn’t cry. Not like this.

And just when a tear escaped, the person who was holding him had wiped it away before anyone walking past could notice. As if it didn’t even happen. They didn’t even say anything about it either. Like a hushed secret between the both of them.

It wasn’t until the sun hung high that Phainon gently pulled away and finally looked over.

3141592. The current number of which cycle he was on flashed through his mind as he looked at you. His eyes mapping out the curves of your lips, the slope of your nose, the way your eyes crinkled with a sort of soft kindness as you looked back at him.

“Feeling better?”

Your voice fit with your face perfectly.

“I- uhm”

And it definitely wasn’t normal for him to be so tongue tied either.

“I’m better, thank you…”

You gave him your name as you held out your hand to him, which he happily took. Your palm was soft – silk smooth without a single callous. When was the last time he held someone’s hand to just, well…, hold it?

“Anytime,” you said.

“Really?”

He meant the word to come out as teasing as he was trying to get his usual air of confidence back. As if trying to get the mask on again.

“Of course, anytime you need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be here.”

Out of all the cycles he’s been in, all the cycles he went through, he never met you – never even seen you before. But he was grateful for it now. This chance meeting between cycles.

“I’ll be sure to hold you to it then,” he said as he stood up while pulling you up as well as he still had your hand in his grip, “however, I would like to meet with you again, not for this reason though.”

You nodded, “I would like that Phainon. How about later this week?”

“How about tomorrow?”

Did he sound too eager?

You didn’t seem to mind as you agreed which he was very much grateful for, “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said.

“Tomorrow for sure.”

To be honest, you didn’t expect that you would be comforting someone who you had heard was a hero to the people, but you figured that even heroes need to be saved. Especially considering that when you saw him enter the city he had looked as if he had lost everything without losing anything at all. It was a look that made your heart weep. A look that reminded you of a poor kicked puppy. You wanted to make sure that that look never showed up on his face again, and all too quickly tomorrow had come, and you wondered how you would meet Phainon again. Neither of you really said where you would meet or at what time either. So you set off for that familiar fountain early in the morning. It wasn’t like you had anything else to do today anyway.

And much to your surprise, Phainon was already there waiting.

His smile seemed to light up the surrounding area as he crossed the remaining distance to meet you. There was a bounce in his step, his shoulders were squared, his posture was straight, and his whole demeanor seemed so much more lighter than yesterday. It made you smile.

“Good morning,” he sounded breathless as if he had ran to meet you.

“Good morning to you too… did you get done training or something?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he said with a laugh as he raised his hadn to scratch the back of his head, “and now that we are meeting like this … I actually have no idea what we should do from here.”

Your eyes crinkled and smile widened in a way that made his heart hit hard in his chest. You reached for his hand, and gently tugged him to follow you, “good thing I already thought up some stuff for us to do and see then, huh?”

“Y- yeah.”

Did he deserve this? Probably not. But it wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying it anyway. And he learned a lot about you in that single day. He couldn’t stop himself from memorizing every single detail. He knew he shouldn’t, but … it was difficult not to. Not when you make yourself so likable. Of course, he knew you weren’t doing it on purpose. It was just the type of person you were.

Before he could stop himself, he asked you to hangout tomorrow, and the day after, and even the day after that as well. It became a recurring cycle where he just couldn’t let you go – no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that he had to and that he didn’t deserve your kindness, care, or attention. However, soon, he stopped listening to that nagging part of his mind and had begun to latch onto you without mercy.

He followed you around like a lost puppy. Looked to you for attention and validation. Sometimes he would even ignore the pleas of others if it meant getting to you faster. You were becoming his destruction.

And he wanted to hasten the process even more. Even when the days with you turned into weeks and weeks turned into years. He didn’t let you pull away even as he became a Chrysos Heir.

Tribbie giggled behind her hand as she looked up at Phainon, “you should confess to her!”

“Huh,” Phainon snapped his head to her.

“You two aren’t getting any younger.”

“And someone else may sweep her off her feet before you do,” Castorice interjected quickly as she stood a little off to the side. Phainon huffed. Never in any of the previous cycles did he have to deal with this type of conversation. It was taking him off his game.

“Someone else… huh?”

He was confident that no one could compare to him and he knew your schedule like the back of his hand. You weren’t seeing anyone. In fact, he knew you were getting off work and heading his way right now. And there was, of course, another reason too...

“I’m sure there isn’t anyone else,” he finally said and Castorice shook her head, “you don’t know that.”

But he did. Your friends beside himself weren’t confident enough to dig up any buried feelings they might have, no one dared to come up to you when he was around, and yes there was Mydei, but the immortal man had no interest in you as far as he was aware.

“You two worry too much,” he finally said and before either of them could say anything else you had called out to him from a distance causing him to look over and smile as you raised your hand to wave at him.

“Now, if you’ll both excuse us.”

He turned back towards you and went to meet you halfway.

“Y/n!”

He smiled at you as he opened his arms and grabbed you into a hug, “how was work? Anything exciting happen? That same customer still bothering you? Did you eat? Hydrate? Need to sit down somewhere-?”

You hushed him by standing on your tippy toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Yeah … that was another reason why you wouldn’t go for anyone else. Phainon already took you for himself, and it took a lot in him to not turn around and give the two an ‘I told you so’ look.

“I’m fine, Phainon,” you said with a laugh against his lips before pulling away, I’m just happy to see you now. You reached for one of his hands to hold when he let you go from his hug, “now, let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

“Of course!”

He turned to look back at Tribbie and Castorice and … as expected, the two didn’t see that kiss coming. He smirked at them and gave them a polite wave goodbye. Sure his friends didn’t know about his relationship with you, but he also wasn’t keeping it a secret either. He just- didn’t like other people seeing your cute side was all.

Anyway…, he knew you weren’t actually tired. You were only saying that so he could rest and take a breather since he has been on a few tough missions lately.

Like most days, your shared home was filled with books stacked on the coffee table in the living room, each and every title ranged from mythical tales of space travel and new worlds. He always thought it was cute how interested you were in fantasy novels like that. Though, sometimes when he looked at you, he wondered if there was more to the story. Like the clothes you keep hidden in the box under the bed. He already sifted through them and they weren’t anything like the clothing styles he was used to seeing. Then there was your phone. It was locked by a password, but he swore the home page image was of a pitch black sky littered with stars. Where you could have taken the picture couldn’t have been anywhere here. And with the way you acted to information you didn’t know about this place was also another dead giveaway and it would also explain why he never met you before.

Just thinking about how you could be from another world excited him to no end. With this theory in mind, he wondered why he didn’t see you in previous cycles … probably because you traveled to other places on this world – he was sure of it.

If the next cycle were to happen, he wondered how he could find you again. Would you be drawn to him? Remember him maybe? He hoped you would. But if you didn’t, then that was alright too. He could always find you. In fact, tracking you through the city was easy. Especially since you didn’t wander off to unknown places or mingle with shady characters. It definitely made things easier.

“You really like these books, huh?”

Like always, Phainon did try to see if he could pry the information from you gently, so he could get that little confirmation that yes you were not from this world.

“I do!”

As expected, you never did give anything away. He couldn’t be mad though. It’s not like he told you about the cycles or about his home either. He actually quite liked how you two had things right now. A simple life where he could enjoy a little peace. Though, that wasn’t going to stop him from taking even more from you in the next cycle.

“Can you read to me?”

He posed the question gently, in that sweet tone that he knew would disarm you. Not that you ever denied him before. He knew you could say no, but he liked how you never said no to him.

[eggsaladstain]

the more i think about what the writers did with rumi/jinu the more insane i get because it's SO good

they're not lovers, they're foils for each other, they're two sides of the same coin

jinu was an ordinary boy who made a deal with a demon to become extraordinary, while rumi was extraordinary from birth due to her half human/half demon heritage and her mother's legacy as a hunter

jinu's shame is internal because his patterns were the result of his one desperate choice, while rumi's shame is external and taught to her by celine despite her patterns not being her choice at all

jinu becomes a demon because of his deal with gwi-ma, and it's gwi-ma who constantly reminds him that he'll never escape who he is, while rumi becomes a hunter and member of huntr/x because of celine, and it's celine who constantly reminds her to hide her patterns and who she really is

jinu doesn't see himself as anything other than a demon and wants to be free of his memories of his family, and thus his humanity, while rumi refuses to acknowledge the demon side of her and wants to be free of her patterns, and thus, a fundamental piece of her own heritage

their connection, then, is inevitable

jinu sees rumi, who is free of gwi-ma's voice in her ear, as the version of himself he'd do anything to be, but he also sees her as the living proof that demons are capable of being loved and can feel more than misery

rumi sees jinu, who steals souls and is bound to gwi-ma, as the version of herself that she's terrified to become if the patterns consume her, but she also sees in him the proof that demons aren't evil and mindless like she's been led to believe

with each other, they feel seen for the first time, and they can see the good in each other that they can't see in themselves, and it feels like they might be able to help each other, like they might be able to save each other, but in the end, they can't get past their individual traumas

jinu betrays rumi because he can't let go of his own shame, because he is so afraid of a future where his family's voices continue to echo in his head that he can't even imagine a different future with a girl who makes the voices go quiet

rumi walks right into jinu's trap because she's afraid of being rejected for who she really is, because she can't see the truth through her own fears

they let their worst instincts get the best of them and they failed each other, and despite singing about being free together, they ended up choosing their own familiar fears over the uncertainty that comes with freedom

the theme of freedom is a big part of their relationship - the freedom they feel to be themselves around each other, the freedom they are both trying to achieve by working together - and i see jinu's sacrifice as the culmination of their relationship, not the end of it

because freedom, to jinu, is freedom from his guilt and shame and pain, as well as the freedom to make his own choices

jinu's choice to sacrifice himself, to give his soul to rumi, is the first real choice he makes that isn't driven by desperation or fear but by love, it's the first real choice he makes to run towards something rather than away from something, and in choosing rumi, he is finally able to be free and at peace

rumi is the first person who looks at jinu and sees hope and not just a demon and jinu is the first person who knows the truth about rumi and says she's not a mistake, and they both believed in each other when they couldn't believe in themselves, they were only able to believe in themselves because they did it for each other first

no, they're not lovers, but the love was there

[chimielie]

You've gotten kind of obsessed with Suna's voice.

You don't know how because you so often hate the actual content of his words. He's monotone, often, so you have to really focus in to hear the nuances of it. The chuckle in the back of his throat when he's laughing at someone to their face, the dip when someone annoys him, the slight pitch up when he says something outrageous just to make you start shouting.

His voice is mellow and deep, not so bassy that it's grating, not so quiet that you ever have to ask him to repeat himself. He doesn't ramble and doesn't stumble over his words; if he speaks, he's self-assured and says only what he needs to say. If you unfocus your eyes and let whatever bullshit he's saying fade out and just listen to the rolling sound of it, you could almost imagine...

You refuse to finish that thought.

Still, it keeps leaking into your life in ways that aren't ideal. You try not to show preference when conversing with your friends, but your head snaps toward him whenever he says something, no matter how intently you'd been listening before. You start asking him to repeat himself even when you heard him perfectly clearly because you liked his inflection (or more often, lack thereof) on a particular word, the roundness of a certain syllable. He obliges so easily you start to wonder if he knows.

It's even coming up in your dreams. Nothing too explicit, not that your waking self knows of, anyway—you just wake up, suddenly missing the weight of a hand on your waist and the warmth of lips against the shell of your ear. Only one or two sentences will stay with you: sometimes lacking context, like "I missed this," this forever a mystery to you, or impossible phrases, like "I missed you."

Suna is a friend. A friend of a friend that you think is kind of annoying. You're not sure why you walk around with false echoes of him—him confessing to you in your head.

He's funny, sure, but too often mean. He always looks like he's thinking of a joke about you, one he doesn't even mind saying to your face because he doesn't expect you to get it. He's vitamin D deficient, he didn't know how to do his laundry until way too late in life, and he keeps inviting you over to watch weird experimental films.

You go, but only because you enjoy arguing with him about the meaning of it all and somehow the argument never quite finishes. "We'll finish this next time," he says, and you keep coming back like a lab rat for rage-hormone-laced sugar water. He used to invite the rest of your friends, but they stopped attending one by one until it was just you and him, whisper-shouting at each other at 2 a.m. because his hand touched yours in the popcorn bucket and you reflexively grabbed it and then bit him. And all the time, he has that stupid half-smile on his face, like he knows something you don't, like everything you say to him is a joke.

You're there now, your requisite fist-fight over the popcorn over and vacuumed up already, some 60s Soviet film playing on his TV. Somehow, after the violent intermission had wrapped up, he'd maneuvered you down so that your head was in his lap, petting you every time you started making unpredictable movements in a way that managed to make you go limp. It was unfair and made it much harder to win arguments without utilizing physical force.

"It's kind of obtuse if you don't know anything about the filmmaker," he's saying.

"That's the point," you say, his hand stroking across your forehead and making your eyes flutter closed. "You're telling me you make me watch this artistic shit and you want it to be linear?"

"You're not even watching," Suna laughs. "I don't want it to be linear, I'm just curious how much the average person knew about his biography back in the day."

"Mmf," you say. His other hand is on your shoulder now, gently applying pressure, working out some of the kinks having to put up with him has put there. "Annoying guy. Annoy me all the time."

"Do I?" He says. "You look pretty relaxed. You gonna fall asleep on me, huh?"

"It was an order, get it right," you grumble. "Not gonna fall asleep. Just keep talking."

"Anything you want," he says, "I knew you liked my voice."

You'd fight him about it, but you're so comfortable. It'd be like letting him win to disturb your peace right now, so you just listen to him neg you and then narrate the screen for your closed eyes, your breathing slowing and getting deeper. You'll wake in the morning not remembering coming to bed, a hand on your waist you remember without ever experiencing, a sharp chin you hadn't known to imagine digging into the crook of your neck.

He'll say something and be smug and obnoxious to the core, maybe (maybe!) awakening something in you even worse than it was with his morning voice.

When he tells you "we didn't finish last night," his lips tilting subtly in a motion that shouts out loud to you, "I thought you'd want to stay and get the last word in," you'll laugh without meaning to.

There's so much to disagree about in the world; you'll have to stay a long time before you've covered all of it. Thank heavens you have the spirit to battle it out till the bitter end.

[lomlando]

Oh!

summary: When Kimi asks his teammate an innocent question, secrets are revealed

content warnings: mild language :)!

word count: 1 k

pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

SERIES: Messy || may be confusing if read as a standalone one shot!

You quickly stripped down to your sports bra and boy shorts and swung one leg over into the small ice bath waiting for you. The quicker you were in, the quicker you were out was your mentality. Kimi stood, grabbing the edge of the bath beside you, mentally preparing himself for the ice-cold. You sank to your shoulders, feeling the cold make your muscles tense up. You understood why an ice bath was beneficial, but man, did you hate it. 

“You know the faster you get in, the faster we can get out, right?” You say, staring at Kimi who had not moved. Two months ago, you both agreed that you would stay in there together as long as the other one did to keep each other company. To maybe make the time go by faster, since you both hated them.  

“So, who did you have the other day with 20 questions? George? Max? Lance?” Kimi says, wincing as the cold water finally hits his legs. “I had Franco, super nice guy actually.” 

“Lando.” As you said it, Kimi’s body hit the water so fast it made a splash. Like the word had genuinely made him fall back from being so surprised. “Dude, did you just slip?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that. So you had Lando?” You could hear the change in his voice; he genuinely was surprised you were paired with Lando, but why? 

“Yeah, he was pretty nice actually. I hoped he was, you have always talked so highly of him it would have sucked ass if he was rude.” You say, looking over to Kimi, who was now looking at you in what looks like absolute horror. 

“Oh.” He says, snapping his head away from you. Suddenly, the wall in front of both of you was the most interesting thing in the room in his mind. 

That Oh. It was not a “Oh!” like ‘Oh, I’m so glad you finally were able to meet him!’ or ‘Oh! How did it go?!’ No, this oh was sinister. Like the “Oh” you say when you realize you sent a text to the person you were talking about, or the “Oh” when you realize you have been calling a person the wrong name for three weeks. Not a good oh by any means. 

“Why did you say oh like that?” 

“What do you mean?” Kimi finally shoots his head back over to you. He knows he’s caught. Even in the 20-degree water, he is still practically sweating. “I meant like ‘OH!” He changed his inflection completely. You can see right through it, though. “You know I love Lando, I’m glad you finally got to meet him.” Kimi begins to stand up. “I think I’m done for the day, I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to get changed.” 

Before you can even protest about how short the stint was, Kimi is already out the door. 

By the time Kimi comes back into the room ten minutes later, you are still sitting in the tub, still confused by the ‘oh’. 

“Oh,” Kimi says as he lets out an awkward laugh, “I thought you would be changing by now, too.” 

Before you could even really think, you leap out of the small tub and lunge towards the door. You had to know what Kimi meant earlier. 

“What the fuck, are you really blocking me in here?” 

You were a sight to see, you were sure of it. Soaking wet, standing in a growing puddle, arms and legs sprawled out in front of the large door as if you were a starfish protecting their sand. 

“You aren’t leaving this room until you tell me what you meant by that, 'oh, ' Antonelli. We promised each other no secrets.” 

Kimi puts his arms up in defeat. “Listen, not everyone has to like you. You’re gonna have to learn that. Especially being in this sport. You know I still remember…” 

As Kimi was rambling about what you, assume, to be a hate train he remembers his rookie year, he hadn’t even noticed you drop your arms and legs back to normal. What did he mean by that? As far as you were concerned, Lando and you had a fine time filming together. You hadn’t ever laughed for that long in your life, much less that hard as that day. 

“What do you mean by that?” Now, a lot more reserved, almost hoping Kimi would refuse to answer. 

“Okay, look, full story. I was talking to Lando the other day and asked who he was paired with. He said a rookie, then told me he didn’t care for them. I really thought he was talking about one of the other two, or I would have defended you. For what it's worth, I think you’re great.” Kimi says moving past you out the door. “Look, don't let it get you down. Take him down next week on the track.” He yelled back down the hallway, walking backwards towards the exit.

Kimi was right, next week all 20 of us would be in Monaco for the opening weekend, nothing else should matter. You should be focused only on racing. 

But the only thing on your mind that you could get out was, “oh.”

[eveningcherryblossoms]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 2

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

Betas were inferior beings.

It used to be that the world was composed entirely of betas. Their predecessors, anyway: Normal humans. Then came the first superior beings–alphas and omegas. Alphas, with their superior physique, the born leaders, providers and protectors of the pack. Omegas, with their superior charisma, the inspirers, homemakers and nurturers of the pack. Each other's equal, with fangs and mating glands that could bind them tighter than any marriage, with rut and heat cycles allowing them to have children far more easily than regular humans. The result–within a century, the world was overrun with alphas and omegas. They became the new standard, degrading poor betas as inferior.

For a time that was that. Many even predicted betas would eventually die out, and none of them were concerned. Then problems began to arise: Alphas constantly bristling with anger, omegas brimming with sensitivity, so-called fated mates snarling at one another over their respective differences and unwillingness to yield, pups left vulnerable when their alpha-omega parents' cycles synced in and caused them to forget the world outside their dens and nests.

On the brink of implosion, the truth was finally discovered: Betas, despite being inferior, were nevertheless integral to the pack. A community would either ruin itself through infighting or be ruined by the enemies while distracted, should there be no betas to smooth ruffled feathers and keep watch over the alphas and omegas. A pack had to be miniscule and its members had to be constantly considering and communicating with each other if it wanted to stand without a beta's soothing neutrality.

That truth doomed betas even further. Betas were inferior beings, regardless of their also being integral to the pack. Thus a beta's life in the pack became not unlike that of a pet.

A treasured, beloved pet–but a pet nonetheless. Collared and caged in the pack beta's suite that was open to all members of the pack, brought to whatever activities the pack members decided on, touched and scented and bitten regardless of the beta's own wishes.

And you just had to present as a beta.

When you woke up, your first thought was I have to escape.

Your second thought was no, there must be a mistake.

It wasn't really a denial. It was true that there were exceptions to the norm, but as a rule, one's secondary gender would follow one's parents. An alpha-beta or an omega-beta couple could have their child present as a beta. A beta-beta couple would have a beta child, no doubt. But you? It was just a 'professional arrangement'–you could perfectly recall your mother laughingly explain it to you back when she was alive, when it was the two of you as a pack away from this manor that had no place for you but physically. Still you were the child borne of Bruce Wayne, alpha and your mother, omega. How could you have presented as a beta? It made no sense!

Then you remembered your mother wasn't only an omega but a prime omega. In this world where alphas and omegas were the standard, primes were the new superior beings. Your mother had never boasted about it, seldom alluded to it even, that you forgot until now. With a chill running down your spine, you thought of Bruce, of the bulging muscles and sharp mind he for some reason hid under the vapid smiling mask of Brucie, and wondered–

Could Bruce be a prime alpha?

Think prime alphas as AA, prime omegas as OO, and betas as AO. Cross the primes and the result would invariably be betas.

The chill in your spine turned to numbness of your whole body. You kept sitting on your bed, on the morning of your sixteenth birthday, not plagued by heat or rut or the ache from being ignored by those who should have been your pack mates. You didn't know how long you just sat there stupidly staring at nothing, but at last your mind cleared.

Running away was out of question. Sure, there was a not slim chance of your escape being undetected for some time, but you were still only sixteen. If you were caught by authority, if they found out and registered you as the beta you were, whether the Waynes found you or not your life as you knew it would still come to an end.

Joining the Wayne pack was even more out of the question. Perhaps you would've thought differently had you presented as an alpha or an omega, but you hadn't, had you? Being a beta, the thought of being a glorified pet of the family filled you with nothing but disgust.

You had to hide in plain sight, keep your head down, wait until you were of age then flee. You could do it. You would do it.

You had to do it or die trying.

It's a beta life, not a better life–so you better give it your all and make it better with your own two hands.

A/N: Thank you very much for your kind support!! I really appreciate it 💕 I'm afraid this story will go slow, here's hoping I'll get to write reader's interaction with the Batfam on the next part 🙏

Forgot to add on the first part, I actually had this betaverse originally sent as an ask to the lovely and talented @fallen-angel2470. I didn't want to bother her with more ideas that are overflowing in my brain so I just made my own 😗

Taglist: @randomlyappearingartist @bellethesleepypotato @nirvanaxx1942 @tenswife @galaxypurplerose @shycreatorreview @cupid73 @time-shardz @mikusamsan @simpingpandas

Is this how you make a taglist?? Help I never made one before 😭

[levigarden999]

okay okay how about fluff of katsuki bakugo with a sweetheart princess of a reader.. Think of like.. fluttershy from my little pony. readers just like her in a way. Shes endlessly caring in a sickening way and puts up with Bakugos shit with nothing but a sweet smile and adoring gaze. bonus points if reader collects things like pretty dolls and novelty mugs

a perfect match ୨ৎ soft!reader x bakugo

⋆˚࿔ notes : love this dynamic thank u anon ⋆˚࿔

the fact you and bakugo started dating was definitely a surprise to everyone. you two were like the complete opposites of each other – while bakugo was impatient and temperamental, you were incredibly patient and kind to everyone. bakugo for sure couldn’t understand how you seemed to have endless gentleness and care towards everyone around you, while he mostly just pushed people away without even really intending to.

however, you never pushed him away, which shocked bakugo. it almost scared him and he often thought he didn’t even deserve your affection or love. but you told him otherwise – you loved him for who he was, you loved his temper and strong willed nature, his determination and sense of justice and rightfulness. while you sometimes gave him a parental scolding for being straight up rude to people, you never got angry. never yelled. you always approached him with kindness and love – which was exactly what bakugo had craved for his whole goddamn life.

that was probably why you were so perfect for each other in the end.

to be honest, you were at first insecure too. you liked to dress up in soft dresses, wear feminine makeup and you even collected those old-fashioned pretty dolls. you actually had a room in your house just for those dolls and their own clothes. often people thought you were weird for it and somewhat different, or that your soft and gentle attitude was fake, pretentious and annoying. it hurt you, because it wasn’t. you were just that type of a person, and you couldn’t understand what was so wrong with it.

when bakugo saw your doll-collection for the first time, he reacted in a way you didn’t expect. you two were already dating, but you still were prepared for him to laugh or make fun of you for it. but he didn’t.

he only stood there, arms crossed and a firm, observing look on his face.

”i bet it took a while for you to collect these” he remarked casually, voice staying even but not judging. you blinked with your long lashes, completely surprised.

”uh, yeah. i started when i was little so… took me a while, yeah” you said, a hint of insecurity creeping in your tone.

however, bakugo chuckled as his eyes focused on a certain doll. he walked over to it and pointed at it.

”this one looks just like you” he said, grinning as he looked back at you.

you blushed, because you hadn’t even realized that. it was the prettiest doll you owned, in your opinion.

while bakugo made you feel better in his own way, you also made him feel better.

when bakugo had his tough moments, when he cried and yelled from anger and frustration, panic causing his body to shake and writhe on your bed – only you managed to calm him down.

he grasped on your shirt, sobbed against your chest, while you rubbed his back and hummed him a tune to ease his outburst. you literally had endless patience and care for him. you grounded bakugo back to the present moment without even trying to act like a savior or anything. you just simply understood that bakugo had his moments when he desperately needed a safe person’s support. he even told you that you were the first person in his life ever who hadn’t judged or scolded him for his outbursts, even though he had had them since he was a young child.

you also understood that bakugo just wasn’t the best at socializing. he didn’t know how to read social cues, he was clumsy with his words and often showed his emotions way too harshly than he actually intended to. this was why people often simply didn’t like or accept him- but you did. you knew that bakugo had his troubles, and with careful, gentle chiding, you educated him that it wasn’t exactly respectful to call every single person ’an extra’, ’an asshole’ or ’a bastard’. he slowly – slowly – learnt.

you and bakugo loved each other endlessly, even though you both had very different ways of showing it. you were the one who openly clung to him, cooed him and told him you loved him. your favorite thing to do was to lay on top of him, squeeze his cute chubby cheeks while he blushed furiously and grumbled for you to stop, even though he secretly loved how giggly and soft you acted around him. bakugo mainly just did possessive gestures, such as defending you and discreetly resting his hand on your lower back in public.

bakugo's heart absolutely melted when you looked at him with those adorable puppy eyes. every time you did that, eyes full of adoration and love and clinginess, he never, ever, said no to you. he was ready to literally bring you the damn moon if you'd ask him. those eyes were the reason why there had been a few... additions to your already huge doll collection. and the money did not leave your purse.

[athenalvss]

pls more wally i beg

CAN YOU TWO STOP FOR SECOND? ( Wally west! )

summary: Young Justice's most sticky couple never leaves each other's sides.

pairing: Wally west x fem!reader

open request - Wally masterlist

⤷ Wally West is the clingiest guy ever, and I can both argue and argue, he always has some part of his body touching yours. If you're in the living room, his arm is around your shoulders. His head is resting on your lap. And if it's the other way around, you're either sitting on his lap or you have your head resting on his shoulder.

⤷No one has seen one without the other in weeks, you are almost Siamese, and on the few occasions when you two were in different places you knew each other's location, more than once the girls asked Wally where you were so they could go out together, or Dick sent you messages when Wally didn't answer.

⤷ Another option if you're not together is to send each other memes, selfies, stickers of you hugging, and lunch photos with the text "I miss you," even if you've been apart for half an hour. Wally once sent you almost 100 messages in one afternoon, and they were all "I love you" with different emojis.

⤷ You celebrate ALL the dates, really every one you can think of. Monthly birthdays, first “I love you,” first date. First time you beat him at Mario Kart. You have more celebrations than the national calendar. Wally always makes handmade cards and buy flowers, and you always make him themed food: cakes, cupcakes, sandwiches, whatever he wants. And M’gann cries every time she sees you guys being so cute. Conner really hates you for all of this; he wouldn’t even dream of doing something like that.

⤷ Wally and you definitely make couple shirts. I mean, not only do you wear matching outfits, but you referred to those shirts as one that says “If lost, return to Wally” and the other “I’m Wally” with silly drawings that you both made.

Everyone was gathered in the common room when Wally came running in with you holding his hand, as always, laughing at some inside joke that no one else understood.

Wally was wearing a white t-shirt with huge letters that said: “I’m Wally 😎⚡” And right below, a silly drawing he made himself: a little stick figure with orange hair running at super speed. And you, of course, were wearing yours: “If lost, return to Wally ➡️” With an arrow pointing straight at him when you were standing next to each other (sooo, always). Below, the same stick figure, but now with you hugging him, and lots of poorly drawn hearts around it.

"What... what's that?" Dick asked, stopping mid-stride as if his brain was rebooting.

"Oh!" Wally said, happy to be consulted. "Our couples' shirts! We made them last night on our date night."

"Did you make them?" Artemis chimed in, gritting her teeth.

"Yeah! Wally drew the stick figures, I did the letters. Teamwork, baby!" you said, proudly nudging him.

"No wonder they're so... ugly," Conner muttered, his arms crossed, without looking at them.

"I love it guys!" M'gann interrupted him cheerfully while giving Conner a dirty look.

⤷ In the middle of a mission, in the tower, during training. Actually, especially during training. Aqualad tries to talk to you two seriously and about the problems your actions can cause if you don't focus and train properly, but Wally is stroking your hair while you give him small kisses on the cheek, still looking at him as if he were the sun.

⤷ You two are unbearably happy together, Dick quietly admits, seeing you together gives him diabetes. You're always laughing, touching each other, saying "I love you" at the most inappropriate moments, but he would never allow the two of you to separate; it would truly be a sin if you weren't together.

⤷ Hearing the strange lines Wally gives you really baffles them, because it's not like he just starts delivering his lines or anything, you say something and he just continues with something clever. Sometimes they're good, but other times he thinks it was good, and you just let him believe it and give him a kiss.

The team was gathered, reviewing the upcoming mission. Kaldur spoke seriously while Artemis played with an arrow between her fingers, Conner leaned against the wall, and M'gann was making cookies in the kitchen, floating with anxiety. Everything was normal, until you and Wally walked in hand in hand, walking as if you were on a date in the park.

"What happened to your forehead?" you asked, raising an eyebrow and stopping in front of him. "Did you hit one of your own vibes again, babe?"

"Shh, let's not talk about my defeats," he said in a dramatic tone, placing a hand on his heart.

You looked at him with a mischievous smile, in that syrupy tone you only used with him. "Your eyes are so green and bright today... like kryptonite."

And without wasting a second, without even making eye contact with anyone else, Wally replied, smiling with complete confidence: "Then I'll be your Superman's kryptonite... and I'll make you weak."

Dick frowned as if he'd heard something in another language. Conner wore a look of genuine horror. Artemis dropped the arrow. Kaldur didn't even know how to continue speaking. M'gann opened her mouth to say something but decided against it.

Meanwhile, you just smiled at him like he was the cutest thing in the world and kissed him on the cheek.

"That was terrible, wasn't it?" Wally muttered, suddenly a little unsure.

"No… it was perfect" you whispered, even though you both knew you were lying.

"PLEASE," Artemis blurted, dropping her arms in frustration. "Would you two stop doing that in front of everyone! You're killing us!"

⤷ You have playlists for each other, he made one with songs that reminded him of you and you have a long list of happy songs that you definitely think belong to him, he also has a couple's playlist for when you're together listening to music and sharing headphones.

⤷ Despite all the constant complaints from the team about being a somewhat clingy couple, everyone would like to have a relationship like yours. You're always together, you can't get enough of each other, you really have a great dynamic, and you know how to read each other to keep it working.

[aninipanin1]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐃

Synopsis: In which, everyone thinks you and Itoshi Sae are dating. Or are you two really?

Notes: Kinda considering doing this with other players, specifically the NG11 players. hehehe. Anyways, enjoy this because Sae has been rotting in my mind lately. P.S. This fic is supposed to be longer, but I couldn't stretch it anymore cause my phone started lagging due to how much the word count was lol

"Hello, Madrid!"

A whispery greeting left your lips the moment you left the confines of the aeroplane. The airport was packed with people from foreigners like yourself to citizens of the country, awaiting family members or friends coming.

It was definitely chaotic, but the sense of adventure at coming to a different country and learning something new about the sports you were in love with.

It had been a week since the end of the Neo Egoist League, and Ego decided that the best way for you to spend your vacation time whilst learning is to head to Spain where you would be spending time with a supposed someone who will help you better.

Now, who that someone was is a mystery to you. All Anri said in the letter was that the person will 'meet you there.' Whatever there meant.

Sitting in the waiting area of the airport, you looked around in hopes of finding somewhere you could eat due to your stomach grumbling loudly. Stacking all of your bags on top of your luggage, you were about to head out when you hear a familiar voice call your name.

"Y/n."

"Sae-san? What are you doing here?!"

You turned around in shock seeing the redhead midfielder standing there, wearing a simple button-up shirt, slacks, and a mask.

Relieved and excited to see a familiar face, you ran up to him and bowed politely, giving him a cheerful smile.

"It's been a while since we last saw each other! Again, why are you here? Are you going for a flight too?"

"No. Did Ego not tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'll be the one helping you."

You blinked once and then twice, trying to take in the information. Your blank expression is also turning Sae confused. Wait, he meant that the supposed mentor you would be learning from is THE Itoshi Sae?!

"I...oh...I didn't expect...that."

Unbeknownst to you, the look on your face made Sae a little worried. Wait, were you disappointed that it was him? You sound like it. What if you were? Surely, you weren't. If you were, that would hurt him he won't lie.

After all, he may or may not have celebrated when Ego called him to tell him about the Blue Lock Director's plan for you.

Yeah, no, he definitely did not jump up like a weirdo from his couch when the phone call ended. Nope, no one saw that, so it means it never happened.

In your eyes, though, Sae still looked the same. Straight and poker face as if nothing changed, though if you only tried to look deeper in his emerald eyes, then maybe you would have seen the complicated doubts he had.

"Anyways though, thank you for accepting me, Sae-san. I know you are really busy, but I'm really excited about our time together!"

He nods his head before picking up all your bags in his hold, to which you were about to protest, but he only gave you a look. One that is not his usual glare, a little softer than that, but hard enough to tell you that any arguments would not be taken into consideration.

"Let's go. Have you eaten yet?"

"Uh no...I was just about to."

"Then let's eat somewhere. Not here, though. There are better food outside the airport."

Holding your luggage in one arm while gripping your wrist on the other, he guided you through the crowd of people like a professional as if he was used to doing it.

Well, he probably was considering he is very popular and crowds are something you have to learn how to interact with as someone famous.

Outside the airport awaited black car that someone rented for you and Sae. He said that it was to avoid the discomfort of changing vehicles.

"Go in. I'll take care of your luggages."

"Huh? Oh no no! I can help-"

"You look tired from the jet lag, just let me."

The redhead opened the door to the car for you, nudging his head, signalling you to enter the car. Feeling the pressure of Sae's teal eyes looking at you, you just obeyed and entered the car before watching him put your luggage on the back as if it didn't weight anything.

"Let's go. We'll just eat somewhere close to your hotel. Its a bit far from here, so you can rest in the meantime."

He sat beside you, giving a small nod to the driver who started the car. You nodded at his suggestion.

Though, throughout the ride, you never did sleep too busy looking out the window like a child. The streets looked alien in your eyes, from the architecture to the people. Everything made you even more excited to stay in the city.

Meanwhile, Sae could only watch from beside you with a softer than normal look. The way your head moved from right to left every once in a while due to something catching your attention made him feel some type of giddiness in his stomach.

God, you were just adorable.

"There are better places for sightseeing, we can always visit if you want."

"Really?! Eh...but aren't you busy?"

"I can always find a day where I'm free. I'll be fine."

He pat your head once before retracting it the moment he realized what he just did, turning his head on the window beside him with pink cheeks.

You were not fairing any better as you feel your cheeks heat up at the sudden and unexpected gesture from the redhead, copying his move and trying to focus your mind on the sights outside instead.

Meanwhile, the driver found himself chuckling softly, shaking his head at the display he saw when he decided to peek at the rearview mirror.

Young love really is just as awkward and bright as he remembered it.

"The bed is so soft... I'll definitely miss it once I come back to Japan."

A soft frown escaped your lips as you stood up from the messy bed of the hotel to prepare for the day. It had been two days ever since you arrived in Spain, and it had been good so far.

The place was very beautiful, and you were in awe about how drastically different it was than Japan. It was a bit hot during this time. You won't lie, but it was not something you could not handle.

However, you were more focused on today's agenda. Sae told you he will be free today, and so, the training you were supposed to be undergoing will commence today.

For the past few days, you wondered what type of training it was. Was it something related to the fact you were once a midfielder and Sae is one currently? Because that was the only thing you have in common with Sae that you could think of.

"Whatever, I trust Sae-san! He won't let me down!"

After an hour or so of preparing for the day, you hear your phone ping signalling that someone messaged you.

Sae:

I'm at the lobby of your hotel.

'Wha...He didn't even tell me when he was about to head out. Classic Sae-san...'

You sweatdropped at his message. Thankfully, you dressed up early, or else you might have made him wait for a long time.

Heading down on the elevator, you headed to the large and luxurious lobby where you saw a familiar mop of redhead. For someone who is going to a football field and possibly going to be running around, he was dressed up pretty nicely.

Hair tidy, shirt crisp as if an iron just ran through them a few minutes ago, face weirdly calm as he typed away something on his phone.

He looked awfully handsome, and well, it should not be a surprise, but it was to someone like you who never paid much attention to people's looks.

"Sae-san, good morning! I'm ready to go..."

"Good. Let's get going, we have a tight schedule today."

The day was eventful, to say the least.

For your first stop, Sae took you to a nearby park where he made you watch, analyze, and predict how a group of kids' play will go.

It was surprisingly interesting, seeing as kids were blank slates. No coaching, no rules, just their creativity and basic knowledge of the sport. It was adorable and albeit difficult on your part.

After that, he brought you to a part of the park where he made you play with the ball alongside him. He did the trickiest types of lobs and dribbling before making you catch it with your foot.

For someone who has not played a while, you definitely lacked the stamina and skills to play like you used to.

"As a manager, you should be in tune with what your players may be feeling or experiencing in the pitch. If you can't do that, then you'd ruin the flow of the game. That's why we're playing."

By the end of the first two hours or so, you were already out of breath from all the movements, while the midfielder was not even close to sweating waterfalls like you were.

"C'mon. I'll walk you to your hotel so you can clean up. It's time to eat lunch anyway."

"S-sure...thank you."

With one final deep breath, you picked up your bag and started to follow him back to the hotel. You won't lie, Madrid was a beautiful city, the architecture of the houses is certainly a little different from the ones in Japan.

It did not come to your mind that you might look like a newborn child with how you ogled at everything. Panning your head from left to right, and sometimes even double taking at something that caught your attention.

"Don't get too distracted."

You felt a hand grab your hand, larger fingers gripping your smaller palms as Sae led you through the streets, pulling you away from bumping into people.

Heat rushed through your face at the sudden touch. From how you knew the man, he was not the type to be touchy with anyone no matter who they are and how close they were to him (you would know from Rin's rants).

So where did the sudden hand holding come from? Putting your other hand on your face was enough of a reaction to tell anyone paying attention to you that you did not want anyone seeing your flustered face.

Sae was not safe from this as well. He was as cool and suave as he always was, but inside, he was still a teen that don't have much of a grasp on his hormones and feelings.

With his back turned to you, he felt a little safer from anyone seeing the pink on his cheeks-

Ah, no. He definitely was not blushing. He isn't weak like that.

'I'm just holding her hand. It's not a big deal. Yeah, it isn't a big deal.'

With the crowded city and the maelstorm of feelings, even someone as cautious as Itoshi Sae missed the few sounds of a camera clicking.

"Thank you for taking me here, Sae-san! The food was delicious."

"You don't have to keep thanking me. It's just right to do these things."

He shrugged, taking a sip off his drink. Looking down at the finished plates in front of you two, your mind wandered to try and make everything less awkward.

What starter conversation should you go for? Hmm...

"Did Ego-san approach you to help me with the training?"

"Yes. Though I didn't see the downside of not doing it. I'd benefit from it, too, anyway."

"Benefit you? Why is that...?"

"It's not confirmed yet, so I can't tell you."

You nodded, confused at the mystery he left you with. What did he mean it would benefit him, too? It's not like he will be playing for Japan in the U20 World Cup-

Oh.

Oh, now you felt stupid for not thinking about it immediately. Though, you decided not to tell him about your thoughts to avoid serious conversations on something that has a possibility of not happening.

"But anyways... I enjoyed today! It was really refreshing to play again after so long. I realized how much I missed playing and to even play alongside someone who is a genius like you!"

Sae nodded at that, though you saw the very small twitch that left his eye when you said the word genius.

Wait, did he not like it when someone called him a genius? Did you indirectly insult him? Oh no.

"Uh...sorry if I...offended you."

"No, no. It's my fault for being rude. I know you were complimenting me, and I feel happy with it."

Aww, now the conversation was ruined because of you. Well, at least that was what ran in both your and Sae's minds. Blaming each other for something so trivial.

"No, I understand that some people may not like it when people call them a genius. I can't begin to imagine how the press, especially from Japan spinning this narrative of you being this talented, like you were some type of sports hero, may make the pressure on you heavier."

An unnoticeable twitch in the corner of his lips went past you as he just sighed. He rests his head on his palm, he looked out the window beside you both at the busy afternoon streets.

"Like I said, it's fine. Besides, the reason why I distaste the word genius in context to me is that it's just not factual. I'm not a genius. I make plays not out of luck, talent, or whatever those born with advantages have. I play smarter than that, and idiots like the media would disregard hard work in order to spin whatever narrative they want just to get more clicks."

Jade eyes wavered under the sunlight that poured from the glass window. Sae may look calm and collected, but you know that there must be some sort of tension brewing from his heart.

"You're the farthest away from someone who does not work hard, Sae-san! You have been playing since you were a kid, and the years you developed playing is a huge contribution as to why you are where you are today."

The conversation came back after that, saved by both of your willingness (mostly yours) to get over awkward moments. As you were both busy with talking, you didn't notice the few people that recognized not just Sae, but also you.

"Oh, is that Itoshi Sae? What is he doing here?"

"Yeah, but what about her? Isn't she the Blue Lock manager? Why is she here in Spain?"

"Are they on a date? They look way too close to just be hanging out."

"You don't know. They might be just friends. But, if they are on a date, then they might actually be a real power couple."

Those who recognized you both kept to themselves, though, whispering to their friends about what they thought your relationship was, yet thankfully knowing their boundaries.

If only those things can be said to a certain few hiding behind the facade of just a passerby, yet was already writing on their heads about possible headlines and tabloid articles about this.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Um...this was posted last night, Ego-san." Anri said nervously as she showed the man the posts. Yes, she was a little surprised about it, and that was it, but she knew this misunderstanding could lead to best case scenario, a little scolding from the JFU or worse, being fired.

Ego, on the other hand, shook his head. He knew he should not have trusted that kid. Does he not care about your future in the football scene? This scandal can blow your damn career, seeing as you were the less popular one in this situation hence you were open for not just criticism but control from some unwanted people.

"Ego-san...you don't think that the JFU will fire her-"

"No, they won't, you idiot. Knowing them, they are probably foaming at the mouth with this news, especially that fat dumbass."

Now, Anri was confused. Why would the executives want a scandal like this? Now, for her, if you and Sae were indeed dating, it wasn't much of a problem. But to some fans, especially some rabid fangirls? Yes, it definitely will be.

And that would spell less sales for Blue Lock, or just having some people review bomb the project with negative comments just for this.

"Why would they want this, Ego-san?"

"Don't you see? Itoshi Sae is a talent the JFU has wanted in their hands for some time now, seeing as he's the young face of Japanese football in the world. So to see him be interested and close to a worker of theirs like Y/n, they can turn around and use her for their own greed. Even worse, they'd make a big deal out of this scandal and profit out of it. Just from the reaction in this one post alone, its telling that people are turning heads at this drama."

"Oh... you're right. Adding to that, we have less of a say to her career compared to the players. This is a disaster waiting to happen."

Ego just rolled his eyes at the news before turning back to what he was doing. Whatever, he trusted you enough to know what to say or do when the time comes and what he predicted will turn out to be true.

Though kids these days really do go around romancing early. This is why he doesn't have any kids.

Meanwhile, all across Japan, the news just started trending, and a few eyes saw the post and needless to say, they weren't happy at all.

"Itoshi Sae?! What the fuck?!"

Isagi screamed from the hotel he was in, even accidentally hitting the back on his head on the bed post which made him yelp in pain.

"Wait, that means Y/n-chan is here?! In Spain, too? Maybe I should visit her...but still! She can't be dating him! No!"

In denial, he was as he scrolled obsessively through the comment section of the post.

"No way! No! This is a nightmare!"

Then the pings on his messaging app started. It was from the Blue Locker's groupchat.

As seen by the reaction from the other Itoshi brother in the messages, Rin felt like all of the progress he had from the meditation that Ego made him do has now vanished into thin air the moment he opened his phone.

Maybe the elders were right, it is that damn phone as he nearly crushed the poor gadget in his hand as he read more and more news about ut from different social media platforms.

It did not help that Otoya's comment made him shudder in disgust. Hell no, if someone was going to be your brother in law, that would be Sae, not him.

He was the better brother anyway! If you're going to take the Itoshi last name, then you'll have it because of him, not and NEVER because of Sae.

"Stupid brother, can't even keep his hands to himself. I was with her first."

In another part of Japan, Bachira had the largest frown ever present on his face as he saw the positive comments about you and Sae, saying that if it were ever true, you two will be one, if not the greatest couple that ever touched the sports which made him feel moee insecure than jealous.

Of course you'll like Sae. He was successful at such a young age, with so many accolades and fans adoring him because of who he is.

That was something Bachira could only wish to achieve. He was just starting to get recognition for his talents after all, and it felt like because of this, you were even farther away from him than before.

"Bachira-san! Let's play again!"

He felt the tugs on his shirt, as the kids from the kindergarten jumped up and down, a ball in one's hand as they pointed back to the grassy part of the school.

Putting the best smile on his face, he jumped along with them in excitement.

"Yeah! Let's do it! Last one not on the field has a rotten egg!"

In the Mikage estate, Reo found himself obsessively scrolling on his socials instead of the plays of his fellow Blue Lockers to study.

Its not that he was obsessed over his phone or anything, no he prided in himself on having total control over himself.

Well, except for a few things.

He just could not help but scroll and reload his page, hoping and praying that there is a confirmation from any reliable source about the speculated relationship between you and Sae.

A confirmation that you two, indeed, were just friends and nothing more.

He was nervous. He already lost a friend, he can't lose someone again. And he knows its not comparable at all, Nagi is a friend and you were someone he admired from afar.

But, the nights where you'd find him rolled up in himself due to anxiety, times where even if everyone turned their backs on him, you didn't, it made him hope.

Hope that he can build something between you two. That he wasn't the only one who felt safe and sound around you.

He just did not expect that his time would run out just like that, oh so fast.

On the other side of the world, Michael Kaiser found himself still adjusting to the jetlag of travelling. It had only been 3 days ago since he arrived back in Germany, and well, his sleeping schedule was a little torn apart due to being used to the timezone of Japan.

So he just jumped on the couch nearby and grabbed his phone, and started scrolling in hopes that he's find something worth entertaining him.

There wasn't much that caught his attention until he scrolled to a video with a title that made him stand up from his place.

'Real Madrid's Itoshi Sae and Blue Lock Manager, Y/, L/n, caught dating?'

"What in the actual fuck..."

He wasn't one to watch gossip videos. No, he hates and dont care about them. He doesn't give a shit about what is going on in other people's lives.

But this? Oh, you know he's paying attention.

The first half of the video was boring as hell. It just talked about who you and Sae were. Only halfway through the video did the reporter finally start to talk about the pictures caught of you and Sae around Madrid.

From sitting on benches next to each other, walking hand to hand around the city, to even eating lunch together, the proximity between you two was suspiciously less on the platonic side but leaning towards something more.

By the time the video ended, he did not even notice that he was clenching his fist so tight, moon-like marks already appeared on his palms.

A bitter chuckle left his mouth as he ran his hand through his hair, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of emotions.

"You're ruining me here, häschen."

ADDITIONAL TIME:

"What?! Eh, please calm down-"

"NO! PLEASE! PLEASE TELL US YOU ARENT DATING THAT GUY!"

You don't know what the hell happened for you to be welcomed in the Blue Lock facility once more with most of the boys begging you to confirm that you were still single.

Bachira was clinging to one arm while Shidou clung to the other, as the rest of the boys crowded you, also wanting to hear your side.

"Did he threaten you?! Did he bribe you?! Please tell us you didnt sell our secrets."

"Why would I do that?! And I wasn't dating Sae-san! He was just kind enough to help me train and get through Madrid since it is a foreign country, after all."

A collective sigh of relief was let out from the boys as they all finally calmed down on the interrogation. A smile lit up on your face, thinking that all the commotion was finally solved when Anri revealed herself with a tight smile.

"The PR team wanted to have a talk with you, Y/n-chan..."

She looked nervous, like she didn't want to tell you about it. You paled though, you knew how strict the PR team were when it came to scandals and this misunderstanding (that you found out about just now) was all over the internet!

Oh, dear you are about to get the scolding of a lifetime.

And just as if your luck did not smite you enough, you looked at your phone to see that there were hundreds of missed calls from many different players. Some from your friends from your old school, to some players in the NEL before like Charles, Loki, Lorenzo and Ness.

But most of all, the one with the most calls and text with a whopping 25 missed calls and 32 messages was the Emperor himself: Michael Kaiser.

"Oh dear...what did I get myself into."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, a small smirk can only appear at the corners of Sae's lips when he sees the tabloids.

He felt bad, bad that he was actually enjoying this while you are probably scrambling around trying to explain to everyone that it was just a misunderstanding.

Looking out the view from his apartment, he sighed at the night sky, feeling like a stupid kid wishing for a fairytale love story of some sort as if he didn't know what the reality was.

"I promise, Y/n...in the near future, we'll have to explain to those stupid paparazzi's that it is not just a misunderstanding anymore."

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[lnfours]

little off topic, but am i the only one that finds confidence in lando hot??

like the confidence the ENTIRE weekend was just 🤌🏽. and then this tiktok - gosh it makes me FERAL.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdfDrtBW/

anon i am screaming into my pillow. gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. i, and i cannot express this enough, love his confidence and, for lack of a better word, little tinge of cockiness. like GOD. his little ‘yes?’ and that smile in the video ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???????? he knows he’s hot and it’s not fair.

lando brainrot

the club in london was packed to the brim of people. full of hot and sweaty bodies bumping into each other. overpriced drinks in hands that had ended up spilling over the edge of the little plastic cups slightly as they all danced to the house music booming through the speakers.

when the idea was brought up in the girls group chat, you weren’t really sure at first. you hadn’t seen your friends since the winter break, but after everything that happened, you weren’t really fond of the idea of bumping into a certain someone. much rather content with ordering take out and watching a shitty romcom.

but after a lot of convincing, you found yourself climbing into the back of the car with your friends, taking pictures and laughing at something carmen had said to george about his shoes.

“look who just walked in.” rebecca said, eyes looking towards the entrance of the club over her glass. you followed her line of vision, immediately recognizing the messy curls. even in the dimly lit room.

“guess he’s gotta celebrate another win somehow, hmm?” carmen said, looking over to you now, “have you talked to him recently?”

your eyes shot back to her, shaking your head and furrowing your brows, “god, no.”

your relationship with lando was… complicated. you two had tip toed along the line of friends or more for as long as you could remember, but it always ended before it could ever begin. for one reason or another.

but this time, you were sick of having your heart strings tugged on, your feelings played with, so you stopped. stopped calling, stopped texting. but it never seemed that your absence had effected him. and that’s what hurt the most.

“not at all?” alex asked, genuinely surprised. it was known that you and lando were friends, sometimes even more than, but to completely not have contact with him? that was unheard of.

“no,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, “don’t think his girlfriend likes me much.”

the girls smirked, you looking at them confused. they obviously knew something you didn’t.

“he’s not with her anymore,” lily said, “turns out it was… messier than we all thought.”

you had seen the rumors spreading like wildfire online, but you weren’t sure of their accuracy. a pang of guilt hitting your chest. you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t care, he was the one who played these never ending games. he was the one who never thought about reaching out after it was all said and done.

you downed the rest of your drink, your brain working in overtime as you stood up, “i’m gonna get another drink,”

the girls nodded, watching as you made your way to the bar. you managed to squeeze in through the bodies, finally getting a bartenders attention as you smiled at the blonde lady behind the counter.

“can i get another cosmo, please?”

“sure thing, love,”

you watched the people around you. friends laughing and telling stories, couples sitting closely and leaning in to talk to the other over the loud music. you shoved the resurfacing memories of you and lando down, wishing to get over him. but no matter how hard you tried, there was no use. he’d always live in your memory. stuck there like wine stain on a white shirt.

the blonde placed your drink in front of you, smiling softly, “did you want to start a tab?”

you were brought back to reality, now fumbling at the zipper of your purse to find your card, “oh, uhm-“

then you were hit with the smell of that stupidly expensive cologne, an arm reaching behind you as they handed the woman their card, “you can just put it on mine for now.”

the voice sent chills down your spine. speaking of the damn devil.

“sure, did you want something?”

“i’m good, thank you though.”

she nodded and walked off to the register, the man behind you now fully coming into your view as he took the empty spot next to you. you looked up at him, eyes scanning over his face as he did the same with you. he still looked the same, perfectly crafted jawline and dimples that could have any girl at his feet. except now, he was sporting a little bit of facial hair. and you noticed he had managed to finally take everyone’s advice and go for the mullet.

he looked good. too good. and he knew it too.

“i could’ve gotten it,”

he shrugged, “i know, was feeling generous.”

“could you just sign this for me, hon?”

his attention snapped back to the girl behind the counter, smiling as he took the pen and signed his name. he thanked her again before she disappeared, off to help another customer at the end of the bar.

“congratulations by the way,” you didn’t quite know what to say to him after all these months, “killer drive.”

he smiled, “always sounds better when it comes from you.”

you took a deep breath, taking a sip of your drink before looking down at the bar top, “what’re you doing here, lando?”

“celebrating…?” he said with a furrowed brow.

“no,” you looked back up at him, “i mean, standing here. talking to me, paying for my drink, acting like you haven’t been missing for the past 7 months,”

his head dropped as it was his turn to find interest in the wooden bar top as you continued, “you could be doing this for any other girl who’s practically begging you to fuck them, or better yet with your girlfriend. but, you’re over here. with me. why?”

“i’m not seeing her anymore.”

so it was true. and now you felt like the bad guy.

he could see your sense of guilt for saying it on your face and he immediately shook his head, “‘s alright, i’m fine. wasn’t gonna work out between us anyway.”

“how come?”

“well, after the first bad thing she said about you, i knew it wasn’t gonna work out anyway,” he said and you ignored the way your heart jumped to your throat as you looked at him again, eyes meeting his, “but turns out she fancied one of my friends over me the entire time.”

you gave him a sad look, “i’m sorry-“

“don’t be,” he said, straightening his posture now, “and as for the other question, the one about girls falling at me feet and ‘begging me to fuck them’,” he smiled as you cringed at the mention of your own words, “as pretty and… optimistic as they are, they could never be you.”

you smiled softly, tracing the rim of your cup with your index finger as he kept talking, “and i’m sorry for not reaching out. i should’ve texted you and called you, but i couldn’t. i kept thinking about how much better you deserved, but the truth is is that it made me want to fight every man who thought they were deserving enough to have you.”

“i missed you,” you said softly, but still loud enough for him to hear over the music. he smiled back at you, that same heart clenching smile that made you want to grab his face and kiss him.

“i missed you too,” he said back to you, eyes searching yours, “can i have another shot at this? for real this time, all in. just me and you.”

you nodded, letting him step a little closer as you draped an arm on his shoulder as you smiled at him, “is this winners confidence or are you just trying to get me back in your bed?”

“i mean, every winner needs their trophy, right?”

you hummed, his face now inches away from yours, “smooth,”

he gently brought his hand up to your chin, tilting it up before trailing his fingers to your jaw, “i’m serious this time. i can’t let you go again.”

“you never lost me, lan.”

the familiar nickname was like music to his ears and he smiled back down at you, “can i kiss you?”

“i’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

that was all he needed before he dipped down and connected his lips with yours, your free hand now clinging to the martial on his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. he tasted of expensive champagne, your senses overflowing with all things him.

his hands gripped your hips, keeping you in the same spot. scared that once he’d let you go, he’d lose you again.

you rested your forehead against his, smiling as you both chuckled softly. you bit down on your lower lip before pulling away slightly to look at him.

“wanna get out of here?”

“god, please.”

[bewitched-hours]

Okay...could i request a 007n7..x reader....

So basically like reader was married to seven but then he got forsakened...so when the specter puts us in we see 007n7 who is sitting down watching the others play go fish or something we like run in his arms crying...i really like fluff guys..

YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW- Ahem- Yes-

Reader gets She/Her~

Life went downhill ever since they disappeared...

First c00lkidd... Then 007n7...

You were sure this was some sort of curse put on you. Having your only family disappear couldn't be just a coincidence.

Your biological family weren't nice people and made it clear they weren't interested in changing. They treated any misfortune as a joke and didn't care who got hurt as long as they got their laughs.

It was cruel and made you file a restraining order when they refused to let you be after you tried going no-contact.

You still remembered sitting on a park bench the day you filed that order and felt utterly exhausted.

It wasn't easy to just let go of family like that, even if they were cruel...

But that day you noticed a little red child coming up to you and stringing you into a conversation. It was simply adorable and a perfect distraction for the pit that had formed in your stomach from the anxiety earlier.

His father joined soon after and you two got along better than you thought, even exchanging numbers as you offered to help with babysitting.

But who were you kidding? You simply wanted to see c00lkidd again because he seemed like such a sweetheart.

It was a matter of months before you and 007 started dating and moved in together, becoming a dual income household and finally living a normal life of sorts... You even got married after just a year or two!

No more cruelty, no mean jokes, your mistakes were treated with love... You felt your heart melt whenever 7n7 helped you fix it.

But now..? Now you were lying in your shared bed, staring at the empty space besides you and listening to silence...

The only actual sound was your sniffling as you cried into the pillow. It was like your perfect family had been ripped away in an instance and you had no one to turn to.

You knew your husband's past. You were well aware he wasn't someone with many people on his side to speak of and you didn't have anyone either so you were basically alone in your grief.

The world felt dull and grey without them. No more laughter and drawings, no one to share the morning bacon with...

It was almost more like mercy that you suddenly ended up in this realm.

When you woke up, you saw the night sky above and heard the faint sounds of chatter and fire crackling. It was almost comforting if you weren't still confused on how you got here.

Sitting up, you noticed immediately you seemed to be on some kinda camping grounds and looked around.

A large cabin with smaller ones at the side, a group of strangers huddled around a fire, your husband leaning against a-

wait... WAIT A MINUTE-

You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw that familiar burger hat and blue shirt. Tears forced their way into your eyes as you got up and shakily made your way over to him and collapsed against his back, hugging him tightly.

Before he could even question the sudden motion, your voice brought the realization to him immediately. "I missed you..."

Your sniffling soon exploded into quiet sobbing as 007 turned around to hug you back, tears escaping his eyes now too as he couldn't believe his luck.

Within seconds you were both cuddled up and telling each other how much you've missed the other. With you talking about the countless nights where you'd hug his pillow for comfort and him talking about the countless times he got anxious thinking about if you were still safe.

But you were here now... That was what mattered to you both.

You eventually introduced yourself to the other survivors, making sure they knew of your past after hearing 007 wasn't so liked among them... They were shocked to say the least.

Hell, you even showed them your ring that 7 and you got custom-made for the both of you. It had a message engraved on the inside that was meant to remind you both of the other.

The other survivors were conflicted with you, knowing you hadn't done anything to warrant caution besides being married to the ex-hacker and protecting him so fiercely.

But you didn't care. You were happy sticking with your husband and discovering more about this realm and your new abilities.

And at least you'd be able to see c00lkidd during rounds... Even if just for a short time...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[sevarchive]

♡ strawberry gummies ──

જ⁀➴ a shidou ryusei story. 3.9k words

synopsis: in which two kids grew up side by side in an orphanage, and swore they’d never leave each other behind, but not all promises survive growing up.

a/n: i really gave this my all, shidou’s a tough one to break in angst, and there’s so little of it out there. i rlly tried. btw this piece was written for a ticket from the ask roulette carnival! visit their original ticket here!

ryusei shidou was born rabid.

that’s what the other kids at the orphanage whispered, wide-eyed, after the first week. after he broke a chair over someone’s back. after he bit a teacher. after he smiled at his own bloody nose like it was confetti.

you were the only one who didn’t flinch.

not because you weren’t scared, you were.  but you’d lived with monsters before.

people who smiled like lies and touched like bruises. people who said they loved you and left you with scars to prove it. you knew cruelty that dressed itself up in soft voices and parental authority.

the first time he talked to you, he was outside alone, holding an ice pack to his jaw and there was blood on his temple, already crusting into his hair.

he squinted at you. “what? you lost or something?”

you shook your head.

“then quit staring. i don’t need your pity.”

still, you didn’t move. you knelt down instead and held out a bandage.

“tch.” he scoffed. “what, you tryna play nurse now?”

you didn’t answer, just started unwrapping the gauze. he hesitated. then, with a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes, he dropped onto the ground beside you.

“whatever. just don’t screw it up.”

you dabbed at the cut on his lip gently, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything.

“…you’re not scared of me?” he muttered, quieter now.

“no,” you said.

he didn’t smile, but his shoulders dropped a little.

and when you pulled out an onigiri from your pocket and held it out to him, he blinked, then snatched it from your hand like you might change your mind.

“…fine. but you’re weird,” he said through a mouthful of rice. “don’t expect me to share.”

but when you pulled out a second one, he didn’t argue. and from that day on, he never made you flinch.

time slipped past like a lazy tide. shidou got worse. or better—depending on who you asked. he grew taller, faster, sharper. talent curled beneath his skin like a fuse waiting to burn. feral on the field, a menace off it.

football was the only thing that held his attention. it wasn’t a sport to him. it was instinct. survival. something that lived in his bones and blood, something he sank his teeth into like it was the only way he knew he was alive. the rest of the world was too slow.

too soft. too boring. so he broke it.

but y/n stayed. always.

she watched him turn shin guards into weapons and grins into warnings. sat through suspensions and scoldings. walked him to the principal’s office more times than she could count.

everyone else saw a rabid dog in cleats. but she saw a boy who once gave her half his onigiri when they had nothing else to eat.

on one of those storm-soaked nights, the power flickered out again at the orphanage. she found him in the common room, hunched in the dark with a cut lip, a swollen cheek, and scraped knuckles.

another fight. another blame he never deserved.

someone’s wallet went missing, and no one cared enough to ask questions before pointing fingers. shidou didn’t bother defending himself. not because he didn’t care—because he knew they wouldn’t listen.

he let them hit him first. let them think they were winning before he fought back.

when she sat beside him, he didn’t say a word. just let her place a warm onigiri in his hand and a gummy candy on his knee. she gave him the first bite, even though it was her favorite. and he took it like it meant something.

“If the world’s gonna treat us like trash,” he muttered, “I’m gonna be the meanest, loudest, most dangerous pile of it they’ve ever seen.”

she turned toward him.

his eyes were wild with certainty, gleaming like something alive. he looked like a boy with nothing to lose and everything to prove.

they sat like that, shoulder to shoulder, sharing candy while the rain poured and the world outside spun without them.

and for a moment, even with bruises blooming and silence thick between them, it felt like they’d carved out their own little piece of peace.

like as long as she was there, he wouldn’t fall apart. not completely.

it didn’t happen all at once.

there wasn’t a moment where shidou stopped being the boy who shared half his rice ball in the rain. it was slower than that. quiet. like a door left ajar in a burning house—you don’t realize it until the smoke’s already in your lungs.

he got angrier and more reckless. after school, he’d vanish without a word. sometimes he came back bloodied. sometimes not. you never asked, and he never told you. but he always smiled.

a smile too sharp to be safe.

he started playing like he had something to prove. like scoring wasn’t enough unless he crushed someone to do it. he wasn’t chasing the ball anymore—he was chasing domination. fear. the kind that makes people flinch when he walks by.

you started staying up later. just in case.

and then one night, he knocked.

three slow thuds.

you opened the door and froze.

he was drenched in sweat and someone else’s blood. his shirt stuck to his skin. there was a rip in the sleeve and dried red smeared along his arm. but he wasn’t hurt. not physically.

he was grinning.

not out of joy—because he felt alive.

his eyes sparkled with adrenaline. his fingers twitched at his sides.

“guy pulled a knife on me after the game,” he said, laughing under his breath. “so i broke his wrist. and his face. might’ve cracked a rib too. not mine. his.”

you stared at him.

“was it about me again?”

he scoffed. “yeah. they always think hurting you is the way to get to me. they’re not wrong.”

he stepped into the room like it belonged to him. he was pacing now, still riding the high.

“i told them to stay away. i warned them. i begged them to try me.”

he stopped, turned toward you.

“i can’t let anything happen to you. you’re the only thing i give a shit about off the field.”

you didn’t say a word.

he took another step closer, lowering his voice now, like it mattered.

“you know that, right?”

you looked up at him. his face was flushed. blood dried on his cheek like war paint. he reached up to touch you—just a brush of his fingertips against your jaw. gentle, even now.

“so i scare them. so what? fear’s better than failure.”

“i didn’t ask you to protect me,” you whispered.

he paused. his hand fell back to his side.

“you didn’t have to.”

for a moment, it was quiet. he wasn’t smiling anymore.

he looked away.

“i know you hate it,” he said. “the blood. the fighting.”

you didn’t deny it.

he rubbed his temple, messy blond hair sticking to his skin.

“i don’t wanna miss it,” he mumbled.

you blinked. “what?”

“your birthday. it’s next week, right? sixteenth.”

your breath caught.

he laughed softly—no grin this time. just a small, tired sound.

“i was gonna take you somewhere. somewhere nice. just us.”

you looked at him. he wasn’t angry now. just... worn.

“i remember when you turned thirteen,” he said. “you made me that stupid little paper crown. said i was king for the day. i kept it, you know?”

your chest ached.

“i just wanted to keep you safe,” he whispered. “that's all i was trying to do.”

he sounded younger than you remembered.

for a second, the mask cracked. and behind it, the boy you grew up with was still there. bloody. bruised. tired. but still ryusei.

still yours.

i was holding the damn onigiris again.

tuna mayo. her favorite. the ones we used to split when we were kids. i’d always act like i hated them; too soft, too sweet, but i never said no when she handed hers over. never could.

i was sitting on the curb outside the field. dirt on my cleats. blood dried on my sleeve from some fight i barely remembered. practice was done. the sun was already dipping low. and all i could think about was her.

she wouldn’t get out of my head.

every match, i looked up into the stands like she might be there. every time my fists curled, i heard her voice in the back of my skull, soft and stubborn, trying to reel me in like i wasn’t already too far gone. every time i scored, i thought—she’d be proud of that one. and it pissed me off. how she was still inside me. everywhere.

i wanted her beside me. always. i wanted her to wear my name like it meant something. like a warning. like a promise. because that’s what she was. mine.

even if i never said it, i built entire futures around her in my head. mornings with her humming while she made tea. nights where we argued and yelled and then she’d sit next to me and press her hand to my chest and all the noise would stop. that was the life. the one i wanted. the one i swore was coming.

so i went back. to the orphanage.

i had the onigiris in my bag like some idiot. remembered her saying she missed them once, and i thought maybe—just maybe—if i showed up with them, she’d smile like she used to.

but the second i stepped through the door, i knew. too quiet. too still. no laughter echoing down the hall. no voice calling my name.

the staff looked at me, and i already felt it in my gut.

"shidou."

"where is she?"

they paused. my skin went tight. my jaw clenched.

"where is she," i asked again, lower this time.

"she left. she was adopted."

no. no.

my ears rang. my heart started punching my ribs. adopted. like she was some stray someone could just pick up and take. like she didn’t already belong to me.

i ran. didn’t stop to think. like if i didn’t move fast enough, the world would close around me and rip her out for good.

i saw her. in the back seat of a car. just her outline through the glass.

she didn’t see me. i shouted her name. over and over. my throat burned.

she didn’t turn around.

i ran until i couldn’t breathe. until my legs were jelly and my chest felt like it was going to cave in. like if i just got close enough, i could grab her back.

but i didn’t make it. the lights disappeared. the road went silent. and i was alone. no sound. no blood. no bruises.

no her.

“they’re for you!” i screamed, chest heaving. “i bought them, y/n! with my own fuckin’ money! didn’t steal—didn’t hit anyone—i stayed clean! for you!”

my hands were shaking. the onigiris were half-smashed in my grip, warm and ruined.

“it’s tuna mayo. you like that shit. i remembered. it’s your birthday, isn’t it? sixteen. i was gonna say happy birthday like a dumbass and you’d roll your eyes and—fuck—”

my throat closed up. i could barely breathe.

“why didn’t you wait? why didn’t you turn around?!”

i dropped to my knees, still clutching the food like it meant anything. like it could bring her back.

“i was right there. i was right fucking there, and you left anyway…you left me.”

i turned and slammed my fist into the nearest wall. again. and again. and again. didn’t matter what it was made of. i just wanted it to hurt. i wanted to bleed. i wanted something real. something to hold onto while the rest of me fell apart.

my knuckles split. blood dripped down to my wrist. i kept going. i screamed. not words. just rage. grief. failure. all twisted together, tearing out of me like it would kill me if i kept it in.

i dropped to my knees. breathing like i’d just played the longest match of my life. but there was no whistle. no finish. no reset.

y/n was it. the leash. the brake. the voice in my fucked-up head saying stop. when i was ready to burn the whole goddamn world, she was the reason i didn’t. and now? now she was just gone.

i couldn’t punch through this. couldn’t fight it off. couldn’t bleed hard enough to feel anything but empty.

if someone looked me in the eye right then and told me to give something up—anything—i wouldn’t even blink.

football. my future. my name. everything i ever clawed for.

i’d throw it in the fire, laughing.

just to hear her say my name again. just once. that’s all.

y/n thought that maybe if she stayed quiet, if she didn’t let the weight of it settle too deep, leaving wouldn’t hurt as much. but it did. even now, in a soft apartment tucked into the quiet corners of france, it still ached like an old bruise.

her new parents were gentle. they spoke carefully, always asking how she felt, always treating her like she might shatter if they pressed too hard. but no amount of kindness could reach the place inside her that never left.

her body moved forward, but her heart stayed behind. it stayed with ryusei.

she thought of him more than she wanted to. sometimes it came without warning. the sound of boys yelling on a sidewalk. gravel crunching under worn sneakers. a rice ball in the corner store that looked too much like the ones they used to split. she missed him.

not just the version the world saw, wild and brutal and on fire, but all of him.

the boy who once curled up next to her in the dark and whispered promises he never learned how to keep.

she had told herself that leaving would protect them both. that maybe he would stop fighting so hard if he was not always trying to protect her.

but then she saw him again. not in person, but through a screen. a u-20 match playing late one night. his name caught her off guard, and when she looked, it felt like the air left the room. and when the camera caught his face, she saw the same expression he used to wear when he came home bleeding and didn’t want to talk about it.

after that, y/n could not stop. she watched every match, every interview, every replay. she looked for him in every frame, searching for proof that he was still there, that he had not turned into someone the world could not love. she watched to see if he looked angry. she watched to see if he looked like he remembered. she did not think he ever forgot her. and she knew, without question, that she had hurt him more than she meant to.

if she could go back, if she could hear him calling her name just one more time, she would not have walked away. she would have turned around. she would have stayed.

because she loved him. because she still did. even now, with nothing left but flickering screens and memories sharp enough to bleed.

one night, y/n booked a flight without thinking. told herself it was to watch a match, just to see how he moved now—how he lived without her—but she knew better. it wasn’t about football. it never was. she wanted to see if there was anything left of the boy who once shared half an onigiri with her when they were ten.

she found him outside the stadium, half-hidden by shadow and sweat, hoodie pulled low over his eyes. his teammates passed without looking at him. he leaned against a vending machine like the world bored him. and when she called his name, his head lifted slow, cautious, like he didn’t trust what he was hearing. their eyes met.

for a moment, everything stopped. the noise, the crowd, the city. she saw something flicker—wide and open and almost afraid.

then it was gone. like it had never been there. the light left his eyes. and ryusei turned away.

“wait—ryusei, please—”

her fingers caught his sleeve. he tore away from her like she’d stabbed him.

“you don’t get to say my name anymore,” he muttered, voice gravel and glass.

her throat tightened. “i had no choice.”

“you always had a choice. you just didn’t choose me.”

“that’s not fair—”

“you think i care about fair?” he stepped closer, eyes burning. “you got in that car and didn’t even look back. not once. i begged you with my fucking legs. chased you until i couldn’t breathe, and you kept going.”

she felt it. that old ache, crawling up her spine.

“i missed you,” she whispered. “i never stopped missing you.”

he shook his head.

“i needed you,” he said. quiet, almost shaking. “you were the only thing i gave a shit about. and you left me like i was nothing.”

“i was scared.”

“so was i.”

he swallowed hard, chest rising and falling with the kind of pain that had nowhere else to go.

“you think i didn’t cry for you?” he spat. “i would’ve set the world on fire for one fucking word. one goodbye. you didn’t even give me that.”

“i thought leaving would protect you,” she said.

“you broke me.”

he looked at her like she was the ghost of something he used to pray for.

then he stepped back.

“you’re too late.”

and when he walked away, this time she didn’t follow.

after that night, ryusei got worse. whatever restraint he had left burned out fast. he played like he wanted to hurt people—opponents, teammates, anyone who crossed his path. fines piled up. warnings blurred together. he stopped showing up to meetings. he stopped sleeping.

on the pitch, he was a wildfire. off it, he was wreckage no one could stop.

his name started flashing across the news for all the wrong reasons. leaked footage. street fights. blood. a busted lip in one clip, a shattered nose in another. he slammed someone against a wall after a foul in training and walked off grinning. he did not care if they suspended him. he did not care if the entire world labeled him a monster.

the only person he wanted to see him had already looked away.

eventually, they brought him in interrogation, sat with his hands cuffed, wrists scraped raw, eyes dulled by exhaustion.

the questions came fast, one after the other. about the charges. about the career he was setting on fire. he barely answered. gave nothing but silence and smirks. his eyes kept drifting, unfocused, locked on corners of the room where no one stood.

when one officer leaned forward and asked if he even wanted to save himself, ryusei looked up, slow and far away, like he was listening to someone else.

like the voice in his head was the only one that mattered.

“this is what you’ve become?”

he blinked hard. it was the officer. of course it was. but when he blinked again, it wasn’t. it was her.

“i did this for you,” he muttered, breath unsteady. “i fought so no one could hurt you. i—”

“you lost me anyway.”

his head snapped up. something cracked in his chest. “shut up. shut UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP—”

but she kept going.

“you didn’t protect me. you scared me. you broke everything you touched and called it love.”

he lurched forward, chains clanking against the metal table. eyes blown wide. breathing jagged.

“don’t say that,” he whispered, trembling. “please, don’t say that. i love you. i still do. just stop—stop looking at me like that—”

she tilted her head. “i don’t even know you anymore.”

he screamed.

not words. just noise. animalistic and raw, the kind of sound you make when your soul’s been dragged out of your throat and shattered on the floor.

he stood, dragging the chair with him, throwing his body toward the vision that wasn’t even there. the officers yelled, reaching for him. he didn’t hear them. he was clawing at his chest, his arms, the air—anything to tear her out of him.

“MAKE HER STOP!” he begged, collapsing to his knees.

his voice was wrecked. small now. childish.

“please… please just make her stop…”

shidou was walking back from the field. still in his cleats, hoodie pulled low, blood crusted on his sleeve from some fight he already forgot. the match was over. the streets were quiet. but something restless still gnawed at him from the inside.

then he heard it.

someone's crying. choked between hiccups.

he turned the corner and spotted her, little girl, alone on the curb, knees pulled to her chest, face hidden.

shidou slowed. something in him paused. something about her small shape, the trembling, the way she looked so alone...it reminded him.

of her.

so he crouched in front of the kid. cleats dug into the concrete.

“you good, short stuff?” he said, voice flat. “you look like the world ended.”

she didn’t answer, just sniffled louder.

he sighed and dug into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a crumpled strawberry gummy. it had been there a while. he wasn’t even sure why he still carried them.

“here,” he muttered. “don’t cry.”

she looked at him—wide eyes, watery—and slowly reached out.

but before her fingers could even touch the candy, a voice roared behind him.

“hey! get the hell away from her!”

shidou’s head snapped up just as a man came barreling over. the stranger shoved him back, nearly knocking the gummy from his hand.

shidou stumbled, more stunned than anything.

“what the fuck’s your problem?” he barked.

“my problem? you’re some grown asshole cornering a little girl!” the man snapped, shielding the child behind him. “she’s ten! what the hell are you doing?”

shidou’s face twisted.

“you think i’m trying to hurt her?” his voice was dark. low. “seriously?”

the man glared. “don’t play dumb. what were you giving her, huh? you some kind of freak?”

shidou’s grin fell.

he stood up slowly. too slowly.

“i gave her a candy, you moron. i had one. that’s it.”

“oh yeah? you think that makes it better? you're a monster!” the man snapped. “back off, or i’m calling the cops. y/n, come here—”

that was the mistake.

the second he heard it, that name, shidou froze.

“what… did you just call her?” he asked.

the man blinked, thrown off for a second—but then his face twisted with something meaner. louder.

“y/n,” he barked, tugging his daughter behind him. “my daughter. now back off, freak—”

that was it.

something inside shidou cracked.

he slammed the man against the wall, fingers twisted in his collar, hard enough to make the siding groan. the man gasped, eyes wide.

“you don’t get to say that name,” shidou snarled, spit flying from his teeth. “you don’t know what the FUCK it means.”

“GET OFF ME—!” the man choked, trying to shove him away. “you sick piece of SHIT! GET OFF—!”

his daughter sobbed behind him, too scared to move.

“you’re disgusting,” the man spat, voice sharp with panic. “you look like you belong in a cage. you are a monster—look at you! you're scaring a kid, you FREAK—MONSTER!”

shidou’s hands shook.

he’d heard those words before.

freak. monster.

over and over. in classrooms. on the field. from people who never looked past his fists. but it never stopped cutting.

he wasn’t even trying to hurt anyone. not this time. he just wanted to help.

just wanted to be something good for once.

but no matter what he did, the world still looked at him like this. like he was made of teeth and violence. like he was already beyond saving.

his chest heaved. his voice broke.

“she was the only one who didn’t look at me like that…” he said, voice cracking. “she was all i fucking had. and you think i’d hurt her?” his grip tightened. “you think i’d touch something i’d kill the whole GODDAMN world to protect?”

the man didn’t answer. he was too busy staring at the wild, broken thing in front of him: the fury, the heartbreak, the grief painted into every inch of shidou’s face.

and the little girl just cried louder.

he reeled his fist back.

and then—

someone screamed his name.

not the little girl. not the man.

her.

shidou’s whole body went still. his fist hovered in the air. his breathing stopped.

“y/n,” he breathed, like the name itself was keeping him alive. “oh my god. you’re—fuck—you’re really here.”

his voice cracked. his hands trembled.

“i thought i was losing it. i kept seeing you—kept hearing your voice—and i thought it was just my head fucking with me again but you’re—”

he laughed, breathless and broken. “you’re here. you’re here.”

he took a step closer, blinking through the tears already falling. “look at me. please. just look. you saw it wrong. it wasn’t—i wasn’t hurting her. i swear. i was just trying to help, that’s it. i heard her crying and—shit, y/n—i would never—”

his voice faltered. he rubbed at his eyes like it would somehow fix the wreck of himself.

“don’t look at me like that. don’t—don’t look scared. please.”

his hands reached forward, hesitant, like she might disappear if he touched her.

“you know me. you know me. this—this isn’t who i am. not to you. i never wanted to be—whatever the hell this is. i just—i just wanted to keep you safe.”

“i’ve missed you every single fucking day,” he whispered. “i didn’t forget anything. i couldn’t. you’re still the only thing that makes this life feel like it’s worth anything at all.”

his voice dropped, soft and begging.

“just say something. anything. tell me i’m not too late.”

and then—

her expression didn’t change. her voice was steady, but it sliced deeper than any punch he’d ever taken.

“you are.”

and she walked away.

but she came back.

not right away. not after the fight, not after the world turning its back on him. but eventually. y/n moved back during the winter, after everything. people even said she was crazy for it. she didn’t care.

she found him in a rehab facility near the coast—quiet, twitchy, eyes a little too empty. he looked like someone who'd been living with ghosts.

she became the reason he started healing.

at first, she just visited on sundays. sat with him in the courtyard while he stared at the sky like it might have answers. she brought snacks, old books, the onigiri he used to pretend he didn’t like. then one day, she didn’t leave. told the nurse she’d stay the night. told him she wasn’t going to keep loving him from a distance anymore.

he didn’t cry. he just looked at her like she’d handed him the whole damn sun.

eventually, they found a place together, nothing fancy. it was close to the train station and two blocks away from a bakery that always smelled like caramel.

he even started therapy. y/n always held his hand after every session, no matter how drained he looked walking out. and little by little, the walls started to come down.

and she—god, she lit up their life like it was her second chance too. danced around the kitchen barefoot. sat on the counter in his oversized shirts. called him “my husband” even before the wedding.

when he proposed, it was stupid. he blurted it out over burnt toast and toothpaste still on his mouth. she laughed until she cried. said yes anyway.

they got matching rings. she teased him for crying at the city hall. he denied it. later, she caught him staring at the silver band on her hand like it was the first sunrise he’d ever seen.

he also stopped playing pro. said he didn’t need the noise anymore. started coaching at a small local school instead. the kids loved him. she swore it was because they didn’t know how violent he used to be. he said it was because he was the coolest bastard on earth. she told him he was lucky she loved him.

a few months after that, she told him they were expecting.

he didn’t sleep that night. just kept his head on her stomach, whispering things like, "you’re gonna be so loved, little punk,” and “i swear to god, i’ll get it right this time.”

they painted the nursery yellow. she taught him how to fold baby clothes. he read parenting books even though he hated reading. started keeping strawberry gummies in his pocket again—for her.

at night, he’d fall asleep with one hand resting on her bump, the other tangled in hers. the fan spun overhead. her breath warmed his collarbone. he hadn’t had a nightmare in weeks.

he felt safe. he felt whole.

some nights, they’d lie on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, lights off, dreaming out loud.

“i’m scared,” she whispered once, palms on her stomach.

“i’m not,” he answered. “not with you.”

and then—

"who the hell are you talking to, freak?" his cellmate muttered, half-asleep.

જ⁀➴ © sevarchive ✦ masterlist ; like/reblogs are appreciated ꣑ৎ

[harrington-stevie]

Hello! I wanted to request an angst-to-fluff fic with Steve Harrington and reader?

Maybe something along the lines of Steve's father saying something horrible about him that stays with him, and because he's struggling with his father's words, he becomes cruel to reader without realising it, taking out his anger at her, etc.. She lets it pass multiple times because she loves him. Until one day, he says something mean when she's just asking him for some of his time, and reader finally breaks and they have an argument that lets Steve realise how much he's been hurting her.

I love lots of angst as long as it is a happy ending!! my poor heart can't take sad endings. Lots of grovelling too!!!

Also i love your work, you write so well, and its so detailed. It makes my heart ache(in a good way) . ANYWAYS LOVE YOU

Hi!! Thank you so much for the compliment, I'm really glad you like my work and I appreciate it a lot!! 💖💖 Love that idea, it goes with the idea I've had recently, but I love the angst toward reader tbh.

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count: 5k

-

Steve and you had been friends for as long as you could remember. You always did everything together; he would hold your hand whenever you hung out, whether it was at the cafeteria, bowling, or even when he walked you home. It was his love language, until he realized he was in love with you. It felt wrong, because what if it didn’t work? What if he broke your heart, or you broke his? He wouldn’t want to force anything.

He had thought about kissing you multiple times. Your eyes crinkle when you laugh too hard, and he can’t stop staring at your lips. Steve loves the way you are so carefree, how you treat your friends well and how you help everyone around you. He worships you in a way that’s almost unhealthy for him. His fingertips almost tingle when he touches you, his heart skips a beat, and his ears buzz. 

He loves you in more ways that he can actually explain. Steve doesn’t know you feel the same aggravating affection for him, but he started to become distant somehow. 

He had never been mean to you before. At least not in a serious way, only playfully. But he started giving you short answers, cold responses, eye rolls that you wouldn't notice. You two were close to each other ever since primary school, that's why you're always together.

He’s closer to you more than with anyone else. Even with Robin being his best friend as well. Whenever you would ask something, he would shrug and just say “yes” or “no”. It was weird for you, he was acting weird.

Steve punched his bedroom wall once after a call with his father. He completely forgot you were supposed to meet at his house to make pizza. You find him in the kitchen, holding his bleeding hand with his jaw tightened. The phone is still dangling off the hook, and you can see a small hole in the drywall.

Your eyebrows furrow. You blink once, twice, trying to take it all in, how shallow his breathing is. The way his fist is trembling even though it already made contact with something it shouldn’t have. 

“Steve?” Your voice is careful and soft. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t flinch an inch.

You step forward slowly. “Hey. What happened?”

He scoffs under his breath, short and bitter “What do you think?”

You glance at his hand, his knuckles are a little scrapped with a red smear along the skin of two fingers that are already swelling. You grab a towel, dampen it, and step beside him, not touching him yet.

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine” he mutters.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I said I’m fine.”

You don’t listen. You reach out gently, carefully wrapping the cloth around his hand. The moment you touch him, he stiffens.

Your voice stays steady “Was it your dad?”

There’s silence, a pause that stretches and it’s uncomfortable.

Then a hiss of breath through his teeth “Doesn’t matter.”

You look up at him, but he doesn’t want to meet your eyes, he’s somewhere else. As if he’s in a daze and his mind is stuck on the previous words he heard through the phone. Something he didn’t deserve, something that has been said way too many times for his liking. He knows he shouldn’t care, he knows it’s not true. But he hears them so much, he’s starting to believe he’s not special.

“You’re not special, Steve” His dad had said “You’re a disappointment with good hair. That’s all people ever see.”

You hold his hand a little firmer, cleaning the blood from his knuckles “It matters to me.”

That’s when it breaks. He laughs sharply, it's as sharp as a knife.

“What, so you can feel bad for me?” He snaps, yanking his hand away “So you can play nurse and patch me up like I’m a little broken kid?”

Your hands still and you freeze, your mouth parting, but nothing comes out. He glares at you and his shoulders heave, Steve’s chest is tight with something he doesn’t know what to call. 

“You always do this. You always hover. Like you’re waiting for me to fall apart so you can swoop in and fix it.”

Your throat tightens “Steve–”

“I don’t need you to fix me!”

The silence that follows is loud and immediate. It buzzes in your ears like a slap.

Your voice comes out quiet. Hurt. “I’m not trying to fix you.”

He falters, and his face shifts for a second. There’s regret flashing like a crack of light through a storm, but it’s too late now. The damage is already there.

You take a step back “I just didn’t want you to bleed alone.”

His jaw tightens again.You nod slowly, heart squeezing in your chest “But if that’s how you see me... I’ll go.”

You turn, taking two steps forward when you hear him. It’s barely there, a whisper of him asking you to stay. 

You don’t turn around, even though you have stopped. “Don’t. I didn’t mean it. I just... I’m mad. And I don’t know where to put it. And it keeps coming back to me, and then to you, and I hate that I do this to you.”

His voice barely holds itself. You stay quiet, and he sighs “I called him. I thought maybe it’d be different this time. Maybe he’d say something, I don’t know, like he’s proud or he’s glad I’m okay. But he just said I’m still a waste of space.”

You feel the pain coming through his voice, your chest mourning for him. When he turns to look at you, his eyes are already red. His tone is shaking “I hit the wall because I couldn’t hit him. And you walked in and you’re just... you, and I panicked. I thought, ‘Why are you still here?’ Because if I were you, I’d have walked away already.”

You take a breath, walking right up to him, taking his injured hand again gently, as though it’s made of glass. You dab his skin carefully with the towel. 

“I’m here, Steve. Not because you’re perfect. Not because I want to fix you” You glance up at him and meet his eyes “I’m here because I love you. And that means staying when it’s hard. Not just when you’re charming, or sweet, or making pancakes at midnight.”

He swallows harshly “You shouldn’t have to stay when I’m like this.”

You smile sadly “Then stop giving me reasons to leave.”

And that’s when he almost breaks down. He presses his forehead to yours like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. 

“I’m sorry” He breathes. “For what I said. For pushing you. For being so scared all the time.”

You squeeze his hand, bruised and broken and still worth holding.

“I know,” You whisper. “Me too.”

It started slowly, when his dad showed up, he stopped meeting your eyes when you made sure he's okay. He just says he is okay and kisses your forehead, and you let it go. You thought things wouldn’t be so difficult, not when he apologized and seemed to be so regretful after that day. But you were wrong.

He cancelled plans with no explanation. Not just with you, but he knows it's harder if it's you, because you ask questions. Eddie doesn't. Not that he doesn't care, he fucking loves Steve. He just knows he needs some boundaries, so he lets it go.

It gets worse once. You've planned a picnic, you pack his favorite snacks, you borrow his mother's old blanket. It's how he feels closer to her sometimes. But he didn't seem to remember to have had plans with you, because he never showed up. You waited and waited. You called him when you got home and he never answered. You broke down after finishing brushing your teeth, when you finally laid in bed.

He was drinking with Jonathan, Eddie and Argyle. He wanted to distract himself from his issues and apparently, from you. He dodged questions when Eddie asked about you. He didn't even notice he was supposed to meet you earlier that day. While you're crying in bed, he's drowning his sorrows with alcohol.

He clenches his jaw when you're excited about something small, like a new song or a movie you want to watch with him. He tries to go out of his way to make it less bothering, but he can't. Steve feels pressured, he feels like he can't stay normal around you. Whenever he raises his voice at you, he startles you. 

You had called out his name and he snapped, like you were interrupting something important.

"What?" He asks, his tone is sharp and his jawline is clicked.

You had wanted to ask him if he wanted to grab milkshakes, but immediately regretted even thinking about it. You look down at your feet, he doesn't notice your sadness. You gave him some excuse to leave, to which he didn't wonder if it was true or not.

You still love him, though. So you stay. You hold onto the Steve who sang loudly in your car, the Steve who brought flowers to your job even though they were half-wilted, the Steve who kissed your knuckles as if he was a knight in shining armor. But even though he's been acting like an asshole, you know he's still in there.

His father's words etched in his head. And it stuck. Those words became something dark inside him. So when you reached out to him, for his time, for his attention, for his love– he heard accusation. Expectation. Pressure. He mistook your softness for judgment. And he lashed out.

You’re sitting cross-legged on the carpet of his living room, flipping through one of his old yearbooks while he sits on the couch, eyes glued to a TV he isn’t watching.

“Hey” You say gently, “can we do something together this weekend? Maybe just hang out? I feel like we haven’t really talked in a while.”

He doesn’t look at you.

You try again “Even just a walk? Or–”

“God” He says sharply all of a sudden “You’re always asking for something.”

Your heart drops, blinking “I’m sorry?”

He scoffs like it’s obvious “I’m tired, okay? I don’t need you clinging to me every second. I don’t have time to entertain every little mood you’re in.”

You freeze. You’re not sure what hurts more. His words, or the way he says them. Like you’re a burden. Like your love is annoying. He still doesn’t look at you.

You swallow, hard. There's a forming lump in your throat and you try to push it down “I’m not asking you to entertain me. I’m asking you to spend time with me. Because I miss you. Because I love you.”

That gets his attention. His eyes flicker to yours and he realizes something’s wrong. But it’s too late. You’re already standing.

“I let so many things slide, Steve. I let you ignore me. I let you snap at me. I told myself you were tired, or upset, or going through something. And I gave you space because I care about you.”

He opens his mouth, but you keep going.

“But I can’t keep loving someone who makes me feel like I’m a burden just for wanting to be around them.”

You wait for a response, but he doesn't say anything. He feels the pressure inside his chest, something tightening and a nauseating feeling of guilt.

You nod slowly "Okay, whatever. I guess that's it, right?"

You get up and grab your purse, looking over your shoulder for a second before leaving. The door closes harshly behind you, and it makes him flinch at the sound. Steve immediately gets up from the couch and flips the coffee table from his living room. This is not just his dad's fault. It's his fault as well. He's letting his words get into his head and he's losing his mind. The anger doesn't sip away, it stays there during the night.

Robin feels like she's in the middle of a crossed fire. She hears your complaints about him, she listens to his complaints about his father. She knows you're hurt, she knows he's hurt, and she doesn't know what to do. She tries to talk him into apologizing to you, but you have decided to give him the cold shoulder.

She ends up telling you what his father told him. She rambles so much, she always says something she shouldn't have. But maybe it was for the best. Because then you finally knew why he was being mean to you. You know how much of an asshole his father is. You feel bad for him, you feel sorry for him, and now you realize why he acted the way he did.

He had distanced himself from you and from his friends, despite all he wanted was some company. In frustration, he began to lash out at his father whenever he had the chance. One day, they got into a heated argument when his dad came home, and in a moment of anger, he punched his father. His dad landed a punch that split the skin on his cheek slightly. 

Steve was furious, because how would he hide that from anyone? He couldn't just say he fell. At Jonathan's birthday party, they all ask him what happened to his cheek and he finds an excuse no one actually suspects.

You sit on the couch with the girls. You're all gathered around Nancy, who just got the perfect gift for her boyfriend and she's so happy about it. You're happy for her. You're so happy, you're almost jealous. You've wanted that with Steve, you wanted to have something like that with him, but maybe you had misread something. Because if he truly wanted to date you, he wouldn't have treated you that way. No one would be bold enough to do that.

And he looks at you from across the kitchen while Eddie talks out of his mind. He's like a submachine gun of words. The other guys laugh and tap each other's chest when they agree with something. He's just standing there, sipping on his lukewarm beer like it's the most boring thing. Steve keeps drinking as if that would solve any problem in his life. 

He becomes short fused out of nowhere, because he starts thinking about things that make no sense. Nancy's father would never say she's a failure. Eddie's uncle is proud of him, even though he failed school and has his name stained. Jonathan's stepfather– Hopper, doesn't care he gets stoned and doesn't have the perfect job.

He looks down at his drink too many times, he stops listening to the chatting around him. He starts giving short answers to everyone, including Dustin, who's so dear to him. You meet his eyes a few times, he doesn't look like he's okay. He doesn't seem to be interested in being there. He doesn't know how to shut it all out. He gets drunk. Worse than that, he gets bored drunk. He sits on the kitchen island and stares at his drink. Steve doesn't even know what he's drinking anymore. Is it beer? Is it whiskey? Is it vodka?

You don't enjoy the party that much. You can't. Your eyes can't stop being pulled like a magnet at him. His eyes lack confidence, happiness. All because of his father. You follow him when you notice he left the kitchen. You find him sitting on the bench in the backyard, his head thrown back and his eyes shut. You sit beside him and he doesn't shift, he doesn't move. He knows it's you because of your smell, because of your calm presence.

“You okay?” You ask, even though you know he's not.

“Do you ever stop?” His voice comes out slurred, his cup is filled with margarita. Well, half of it. He's drank the first half in one swig.

You blink, confused “What?”

“You always need something. Always pushing, always wanting. It’s exhausting.”

The words don’t register at first. Your brain fumbles them. You look at him confused, your heartbeat skipping.

“I’m... asking to see you, Steve.”

“I’m tired” He snaps “I don’t need to be your entertainment every time you get bored or lonely.”

And there it is. That’s what breaks you, you look at him for a long second. Your mouth is parted, and your breath is caught in your throat.

“That’s what you think I am?” You whisper “A bored girl looking for a distraction?”

He exhales, already regretting it, but not enough to take it back.

You nod slowly “Wow.”

“I didn’t mean–”

“Yes, you did.” Your voice cracks, but you straighten your back “You’ve been meaning all of it, haven’t you? Every eye roll. Every cold shoulder. Every time I ask if you’re okay and you look at me like I’m annoying.”

He falls silent.

You keep going, and now your voice is shaking. “I let it slide because I thought you were hurting. Because I know you’ve got things buried deep. But this? This isn’t just a bad mood anymore, Steve. This is you making me feel like loving you is a burden”

His mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to speak, but there’s nothing. Just guilt. Just stunned silence.

You take a shaky breath. “All I ever wanted was time with you. I’m not asking for flowers. Or grand gestures. Just... you. And you treat me like I’m clingy. Like I’m too much.”

You turn, wiping a tear as it falls “Maybe I am. Too much. For you.”

You don’t expect him to stop you. So when his hand catches your wrist as you turn to leave, you flinch.

“I’m sorry” His voice cracks when he speaks and it makes you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it” He says again “I didn’t– God, I didn’t mean any of it.”

You stay still, not facing him. He steps in front of you, forcing you to see his face. Bloodshot eyes, which you don’t know if it’s from the drink or for suppressing his tears back.

“My dad said... he told me I’m nothing. Just a pretty face people keep around until they get bored. That people only want me when I’m fun, or happy, or convenient.” His voice trembles. “And I started believing it. So when you loved me anyway, I got scared. I pushed. I made it hard to love me, just to see if you’d go.”

You stare at him, tears blurring the edges of your vision.

“You were trying to make me leave.”

“I know” He whispers “And I hate myself for it. I don’t want to lose you.”

You shake your head “You hurt me, Steve.”

“I know.”

“You made me feel small.”

He nods, with tears slipping down his cheek “And you made me feel seen. And I punished you for it.”

You don’t answer.

He swallows hard “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The silence stretches. A few minutes pass until he speaks up again, and this time it's like he wants to say it all out loud.

“I'm sorry” He says, a tear escaping his eyes that are closed “I'm so sorry if I'm such a fucking loser.”

You place a hand over his wrist, his knees keep bouncing as his head still falls back against the wall.

“Stevie” You say gently “You're not a loser. You're smart, you're gentle and caring. You work hard, you became better after school.”

You take the cup away from his hand and place it on the ground. You pull both his hands with yours and cradle his face, lowering his head. He doesn't open his eyes just yet, his brows crease when he tries to hold back his tears. But he just can't find strength to do that. He wants to cry, but he thinks he's just being weak.

He doesn't believe it, he never has. Because if that was true, his father wouldn't be so disappointed at him.“I'm sorry for acting like a total jackass with you. But I– My father keeps telling me I'm a fucking joke, he doesn't stop. We had a fight the other day, I threw a punch at him and he punched me back.”

“You're not even close to being anything he says you are. You are more than that, sunshine” He softens at the nickname. You have both called each other that ever since you made a deal when you were younger.

Your thumb brushes his skin gently and he leans into your touch “You have to stop listening to everything he says. He just wants to hurt you and you're giving him what he wants.”

Steve finally lets the tears roll. It falls easily, and you try to wipe them away, until he starts sobbing right in front of you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him in a tight hug. He keeps apologizing, hiccuping. His head digs into the crook of your neck and his crying comes out muffled. You stroke his hair and then let yourself cry as well. You have never seen him so broken before.

Finally, you speak.

“I don’t need perfect. I never did. But I need honesty. And I need someone who fights with me. Not against me.”

He nods pulling back just a little bit “Then let me fight for you. Let me earn back what I broke.”

You look at him, really look. He’s not perfect, he’s raw and flawed and scared. But this time, he’s trying.

You nod once, tears still falling “Then start now.”

He leans in, presses his forehead to yours, and breathes you in like you’re the only thing keeping him steady.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I promise.”

Steve starts taking you out. He holds your hand as if he’s afraid you’re going to disappear. He brings you your favorite snacks at work, he picks up movies for you both to watch. When he knows his father is around, he doesn’t stay home, he stays with you. He ignores his father’s call at all costs. His mother has to call Nancy’s mother so she can talk to him, and sometimes he can hear his father in the background. 

And this time, when he holds you, it feels like he means it.

It doesn’t reach him like it did before, it doesn’t do much damage like it would. He’s still angry sometimes, his temper would swing at times, and he would have to hold back at some moments. But when he sees you, when he knows you are not letting him go, he lays it all down. 

On his birthday, he goes to The Hideout.  He’s in the booth, half-smiling because Robin had forced him into wearing a party hat, it’s crooked and ridiculous. His arms are folded on the table, his shoulders feel relaxed like it hasn’t been in a while. His face light up when he watches as you enter the place and approach the table with a gift for him. 

You slide into the booth beside him, nudging your shoulder against his “Birthday boy.”

He huffs a laugh “That’s me.” 

He looks older, a little tired, maybe. It’s not easy to have parents who don’t give you enough of their love, who aren’t proud of who you are. Who aren’t there when you need them. They didn’t even call and he’s not even surprised, he thinks being with his friends is enough already.

“Are you having fun?” You ask him gently and he nods. 

“I am” He nudges your shoulder back and you nod. 

A few minutes pass with Robin drunkenly singing into a beer bottle like it’s a mic, Eddie yelling “encore!” way too loud, and Mike and Lucas arguing about something you don’t care to understand. 

And then you reach into your bag and pull out a small package in a brown paper. It doesn’t have a bow or anything fancy, just your handwriting on a folded scrap saying “for you”.

Steve raises an eyebrow “You got me something?”

“Obviously” You say, with a smile on your face that can make his days so much better “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

He smiles, a little shy “The kind who’s already giving me way more than I deserve.”

You shake your head “Open it.”

He tries to ignore the way his heart thumps when you say “friend”, but you know it’s more than that. You just don’t have a title yet. 

He removes the paper carefully, not ripping it off, but he freezes when he sees what’s inside. 

A framed photo that looks a little blurry and kind of off-center. It’s you and him, on your back porch last fall. There are leaves everywhere and he laughs. He's literally cackling, and you’re squinting at him as you grin like a stupid 12 year old girl in love. Robin took it without either of you knowing.

There’s a handwritten note on the back of the frame, and he glances at you before opening. 

I know birthdays are hard sometimes. I know you still hear him sometimes. I just wanted you to have proof that you're loved. That you laugh like that. That you're someone people stay for. Especially me.

He swallows hard, his fingertips carefully grazing the edges of the picture. He’s quiet at first, they tighten around the frame and his eyes are locked on it, his jaw works a little and his breath trembles as he leans his head down. He presses it to your shoulder. 

“Thank you” He murmurs quietly “This… you didn’t have to…”

“I know. I wanted to.”

One of your hand tangles in his hair, the other one holds his hand under the table, your thumb brushes over his knuckles. He leans back and meets your eyes, smiling. A true smile, a kind one. 

Steve wanted to kiss you so bad that night, he longed for that. But he knew it wouldn't be the perfect timing, he wanted it to be good for both of you. Even though he can see how much you liked each other, and not just as friends.

“You make it easier. Being here, being myself.”

You rest your forehead against his “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

His heartbeat skyrockets when he kisses your cheek and places the photo back gently into the wrapping. Outside the booth, the band starts playing something truly awful. Someone throws a napkin. Dustin howls. Robin does a split that no one asked for. And Steve laughs, that same laugh from the photo. The one that makes your chest warm. It’s not a perfect night. But it’s a real one. And Steve, for once, lets it all in.

One night you were both sitting on the roof of his car, looking out at the vast starry sky. Airplanes passing by, trees rustling with the soft autumn wind. There's a blanket thrown over your shoulders, half for the breeze, half because he put it there without asking.

You haven’t spoken much tonight. And that’s okay. It’s not the kind of silence that feels like a wall anymore.

It’s the kind that feels like safety. The kind where you don’t need to fill the space to feel wanted. Steve's arm is resting behind you, long fingers tapping lightly against the metal of the car. You glance over at him, and he’s already looking at you. Not like he used to, not distracted or anxious or distant. Now he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

His eyes soften, and he swallows. And when he speaks, his voice is quieter than the wind.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since before I even deserved to be.”

You blink in surprise, your heart starts beating faster. He feels nervous, his hands shake and he’s not sure he’s doing the right thing. Because Steve broke you many times already, he can’t keep doing that anymore. 

“I just didn’t know how to say it before. Or maybe I was scared that if I said it, you’d see right through me. I was scared I would throw everything away, ruin everything we had.”

You don't respond right away. You let it land, let the words sink into your chest.

Then, gently, you ask “Do you mean it?”

He nods, just once. And then, he locks his eyes on yours, with a whirlwind in his head. But he’s sure of it, he knows.

“I love you.”

There’s no hesitation. No bitterness clinging to the edges like before. No fear behind his eyes. Just this raw, open truth he’s finally ready to give you. It’s not the same love he usually shared with you, this one is different.

Your chest aches in the best possible way.

“I love you, too” You whisper “Even when it was hard. Even when it hurt.”

His hand slides up to your cheek, gently and expectantly “I’m so sorry for the ways I hurt you.”

“I know” You say, your lips curl and you lean into his touch “You’ve been showing me.”

There’s a pause there, you two are just breathing, feeling each other’s closeness. Steve sees how your face lights up when he strokes his thumb against your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, suddenly.

It’s such a Steve thing to ask. Always gentle, careful, almost shy. And it’s the easiest answer you’ve ever given.

“Yes.”

He leans in, slow, like he’s still half afraid you’ll disappear. His hand cradles the side of your face, thumb brushing just under your cheekbone, and when his lips meet yours, it’s soft, like he’s memorizing the shape of you before he ever dares deepen it. Your hands curl into his shirt without thinking. He kisses you like he’s been waiting months, even years, for permission.

Like he’s finally found something worth staying for. Like he means every word he’s ever said, and all the ones he couldn’t say until now. When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“I’ve wanted that since the day I met you” He murmurs “But this... now... it feels like the first time I’m really me. And I’m so glad it’s you.”

You smile. And this time, when you kiss him, it’s not cautious or heavy or full of everything unsaid. It’s warm and certain, your tongues collide and there’s a million fireworks bursting inside of him. Inside of you. 

Two people choosing each other, finally, completely.

No fear, no walls.

Just love.