#but we did it !!! got through the day !!! without having anything go horribly wrong!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fyorina · 2 months

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ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}

AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!

SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place.

For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?”

“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with.

“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”

“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”

“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry.

You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?”

“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”

“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly.

“I’ll-”

Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”

You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?

“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off.

Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”

You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up.

Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”

You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now?

“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.

“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”

“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him.

Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take.

“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”

Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.

You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”

“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”

“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed.

Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street.

“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”

You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.

“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”

Instead of trying to kill yourself.

“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”

“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.

His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.

You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.

Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!”

“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?”

You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”

His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.

“I-”

You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.

“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”

And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.

You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.

“So,” he says, “about that date?”

“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”

You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”

Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him.

“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”

Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”

“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him.

He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place

Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down.

“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.

“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?”

“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.

“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”

Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic.

“Oh god, we have to-”

You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.

He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours.

“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”

Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”

“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.

“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?”

You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.

You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.

You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.

“Never again.”

Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.

“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.

“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”

“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly.

“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”

Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”

“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining.

“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”

“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall.

Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly.

Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.

Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile.

“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”

Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.

“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”

Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”

Dazai looks thoroughly offended.

“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."

Dazai gasps.

Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”

You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair.

You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”

Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”

You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”

You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”

Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”

Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”

Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.

“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint.

“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”

Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”

“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida.

“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile.

“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”

You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”

“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”

Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.

“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.

“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm.

He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay.

He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you.

“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him.

It is.

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair.

You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.

You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand.

“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?”

There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.

You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later.

Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”

Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall.

“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost.

“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”

“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”

He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency.

“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”

“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”

“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on.

You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist.

“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”

“Stop.”

Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again.

“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”

“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.

“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.”

Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.

“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.

Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile.

Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down.

He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this.

“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”

He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.

So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off.

Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy.

Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity.

But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.

You consider it a win.

Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble.

His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?

And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter.

But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.

When did he start to…

He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved.

Not for who he is.

Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-

“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?”

Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”

“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”

Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it.

He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”

Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.

The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-

Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you.

Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly.

“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.”

Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.

Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.

Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.

Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this.

Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him.

Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights.

“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”

“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut.

The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away.

You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.

You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”

Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”

The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless.

“Deal.”

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

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iamatinydinosaur · 4 months

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Hello! I really liked the wording of my application and thank you very much :DSomething I hadn't considered until I read it is thatThe brother reader will have unconsciously seen Ramón on a couple of occasions as a father figure since he was the only one who took care of the reader for 20 years. Thinking of Ramón as a “papá luchon” seems adorable to me (in my country we refer to single fathers and mothers who support their children with their own work, without any other presence to help them, therefore, they have to fight against the adversities) If possible, can you write something related to this topic about Ramón and the reader? (gender neutral)

🐾Branch🐾

Through the Years

You were 3 and Branch was 5 when Grandma died. It was just you two. You watched as your older brother lost his colors. You were so scared. Branch saw this and promised he would never let anything happen to you. You were all he had left. Grandma's death effected you a lot, just not to the extent that it effected Branch. You were afraid of everything, never wanting to leave Branch's side. He preferred this anyways.

You Age 7 and Branch age 9

You ran into the bunker crying. Branch ran into the main room. "Y/N what's wrong?!" He exclaimed seeing you covered in scratches, dirt and slightly bleeding. "I w-as col-lecting berries and some sp-id-ers attac-ked me." You hiccuped. Branch got a napkin and wiped your tears away. "I told you to wait for me before you went to go get the berries." He whispered grabbing a warm bowl of water with a rag and a first aid kit. He rung out the rag and started wiping the wet rag over your face to get rid of the dirt. "I wanted to surprise you and show I'm getting big and help you." You pouted, sniffling. "You do so much. Maybe if I helped more maybe your colors would come back..." You looked down. Branch's heart swelled. He kissed your forehead. You looked at him shocked. "You're growing up too quickly. Stop it." He said smiling as he cleaned your scrapes. You giggled.

You age 10 Branch age 12

Branch laughed. You had made a dance number to your favourite song. You wore a silly outfit and danced horribly. Branch knew he had to help your dancing ability. You stroked your ending pose.

Branch fell on the floor laughing his hardest. "Did you like it?!" You exclaimed jumping up and down. Branch wiped his tears getting up. "It was amazing. But let me help you improve the dancing. Your voice is amazing but your moves..." He teased. The rest of the day Branch showed you to do the moves better. This was the first time in 5 years you had seen him dance again. "Just like that see." He said turning to you. However, he froze seeing tears in your eyes. "What's wrong! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.!" He exclaimed hugging you. "No, no. You used to dance and sing all the time before Grandma... I just missed this." You mumbled hugging him.

You age 14 Branch age 16

It was Branch's 16th birthday. You had gotten up at 4. Branch gets up at 6 am everyday so you wanted his birthday breakfast ready before he got up. You had been practicing this breakfast for the past month after he's gone the bed to make sure it's perfect. It was about 5:55 when you had finished. You made for the both of you eggs Benedict, blueberry scones, fresh apple juice and bagels with an assortment of jams. "Morning Y/N, why are yo-" He stopped mid sentence when he saw the dining room table. His eyes watered and looked at you. "Happy Birthday Branch!"

You age 18 and Branch age 20

You layed on your bed, covers over your head. You sniffled. You had just got back from what was supposed to be your 1 year anniversary date with your partner. "Hey." Branch said softly holding two cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream. He placed them on your bedside table. You curled into a tighter ball. Branch sighed sitting on your bed. You slowly pulled the blanket off your face. Your cheeks were puffy, tear marks ran down your face and your eyes were bloodshot. "What happened?" He asked pulling your head onto his lap. "They broke up with me. They love someone else." You whispered burying your head into his stomach. This irked Branch. This low life scum hurting his baby sibling. "When I see this punk again I swear." He grumbled rubbing your back. This made you giggle slightly. "I made your favorite, hot chocolate." He whispered brushing your hair. You rolled over and sat up. You smiled taking it. You knew you'd always be able to count on your big brother.

A/N: I loved writing this. When I got this request I always thought Branch would only show you things he never did in the first movie (just not singing) I hope you like it!! ✨✨

#trolls band together #brozone #branch x sibling reader #branch trolls

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targaryenluvs · 1 month

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HER & I / MADDIE BUCKLEY

PAIRING: Maddie Buckley x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When your best friend and crush shows up on your doorstep after a bad night, you help her to finally leave her husband.

WARNINGS: Abusive relationships, crying, escaping, threats, angst, fluff, comfort, confessions, kisses

WORDCOUNT: 1K Words

A/N: Maddie deserves the best 🥹 Mighttt do a part 2! Look at me posting twice in one day 🤭

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

You thought the world of Maddie, always had and always will.

So when she showed up on your doorstep, tears running down her face with bruises everywhere? You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Maddie? Oh my god, come in.” You ushered her in quickly closing the door behind her.

“What happened sweetheart?” You always called her nicknames.

She shook her head immediately as you opened your arms, “I’ve got you, don’t worry. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” You took her hand and sat her down on your couch before sitting next to her.

“Doug.”

Just one word was more than enough for your blood to boil. Her husband, the piece of trash he was, always treated her horribly. Ruining her mental health and wearing down the strong woman you knew she was. He never deserved such a wonderful woman.

“He… I can’t do it anymore Y/n.” Her eyes were glossy as her lip quivered. You could make out a forming bruise on the side of her face, as you softly traced it. “That’s okay, you’re so strong. I know you are baby, I can help you leave him. Is that what you want? Cause I swear, I will pack my shit up and we can leave.”

Maddies heart was racing, most likely the adrenaline from running away. But also having you so serious, so attentive and determined to helping her leave.

Through her years as your best friend she found herself naturally drawn to you, and you were always there for her. The first night she confided in you, you didn’t ask any questions. Just opened your door and your arms as refuge. You never had any good vibes when it came from Doug, and your anger only amplified when you realised what he was doing to Maddie.

“No, you can’t Y/n. Your life is here.” She shook her head at the idea of you leaving with her, for her. “That’s not your decision to make Mads. I have friends here sure, but most of my family is either in L.A or out of America. Friends come and go, but you’re more than that.” Her eyes flicked up at your words, eyebrows furrowed.

What is that supposed to mean?

“What does that mean?” You sighed as you grabbed onto her hands, “This isn’t the right time to say this to you Maddie.” She clutched onto your hands tighter.

“Please, just say it.”

“I love you.”

Her world stopped, the words she’d dreamed of hearing.

“I- I’ve loved you for so long. How was I supposed to not? Maddie you are unbelievably sweet, and kind, gorgeous, intelligent. God you’re perfect. And I am so sorry that Doug took that away from you. But you deserve to live. You deserve to help people, to live life without looking over your shoulder or worrying about angering him. If we leave. I promise I will do anything to keep you safe.”

She didn’t stop the tears as they rolled down her face, wiped away courtesy of you. “Let’s go.” She nodded as you grinned, “Really?” Maddies face broke out in a small smile, “Anywhere to be with you.”

And you did.

For the next hour you spent grabbing all the essentials, clothes, memories, documents etc. You texted another one of your bestfriends that you were leaving, and that she should come over and take inventory before selling your furniture. She was an avid user of Facebook Marketplace.

Luckily you were on good terms with your landlord and your lease was expiring in a week. As long as your friends sold everything of yours, you’d be in the clear.

Home isn’t a place, it’s a person.

And yours was currently right next to you.

It’d taken you and Maddie a bit of time to get on your feet, having crashed with her brother Buck who was nothing but welcoming.

“So you’re the reason she finally left him?” Maddie was currently in the shower, allowing Buck to finally question you. “No, she wanted to leave. I just helped her, I mean you did steal her car.” Buck jokingly gasped as he clutched his chest, “She gave that to me!”

“Sure thing Buckley.” You replied as you took a sip from your glass. “But, seriously, thank you. I have no idea where she’d be right now without you. And she really does love you, I can see you love her too.” Your smile was evident at his words.

“I do, I have for a long time. I’m just lucky. Now speaking of gay couples, you and Eddie.” Buck groaned as you giggled, “I see the tension everyday! You can’t tell me there’s nothing going on there!”

“She’s right, Evan has a crush.” Maddie joined in as Evan shook his head, “The two of you are menaces to society.” The three of you sat down on the couch and continued to bicker. Seeing you getting along with her family so well made Maddie’s heart swell. You were everything and more.

And you proved your love for her over and over. Always supporting her, handling her emotions and caring for her. When she woke up in the night after a nightmare, you were always there to calm her down. When she felt anxious, you listen to her concerns and assured her.

The two of you settled into life in L.A easily. You’d always wanted to live there, longing for home when you moved to study. Your parents were nothing but lovely to Maddie, which made her feel at ease.

She became close with Josh, and Chimney whilst you grew closer to Eddie, Evan and Hen.

So when it came time to the two of you discussing starting a family, you were nervous but confident in asking Chimney.

And out of respect for him and his mother, you named her Jee-Yun.

Maddie couldn’t help but become emotional when she thought about how far she’d come. From the days where she feared returning home to now, when she counted the minutes till she could home to her daughter and wife. Her family.

But she wasn’t in the clear yet.

Doug was still alive.

#maddie buckley x reader #maddie buckley #maddie buckley x fem!reader #911 x reader #911 fic #911 imagine #911 fanfic #911 abc #911 show #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley x reader

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thelukesalvez · 8 months

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: An Accident

Request: “i cannot stop thinking about luke (could just leave it at that! but i will continue) being almost obnoxiously overbearing if his S/O got hurt in the field. ESPECIALLY if he saw the incident go down. i’m talking not leaving their hospital room for DAYS, or not letting them off the couch to get a glass of water. i’m such a sucker for angst with fluffy undertones (😔✌️) so id owe u my first born if u could write something like this!!! also 100% get it if u aren’t interested! ty SO much either way”

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: car accident, injury tw

A/N: repost

When Luke finally has a chance to check his phone, his heart sinks as soon as he sees the eleven missed calls. Eight are from his own mother, accompanied by a couple of voicemails. Two are from your mother and one is from a number Luke doesn’t even have saved in his contacts.

An instant feeling of dread settles within the depths of his stomach. His finger lingers over the play button of the voicemail his mom had left him, but he hesitates. Luke’s family knows he often couldn’t answer his phone when he’s away on a case. For them to call this many times meant something was wrong– horribly wrong.

He turns the corner, slipping into an empty room in the police precinct. As soon as he closes the door behind him, he’s pressing his phone to his ear.

Luke’s heart sinks even further when he hears his mother’s panicked voice over the phone. But it completely stops when he hears her say that there’s been a car accident.

Luke hangs up before the voicemail ends, rushing out of the room towards where he heard the voices of the rest of his team.

He barges into the conference room, clinging onto the door frame as he speaks hurriedly.

“Emily–” he stammers “I ha-have- I have to go–”

The rest of the team turns in their chairs to face Luke, but his desperate gaze is focused only on Emily and the permission he needs from her to leave the case.

“Luke,” she’s trying to remain calm for him. “What’s wrong?”

He runs his fingers through his tight curls frantically. “Y/N was in a car accident.” He doesn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice.

“What?”

“Oh my god!”

“Is she okay?”

JJ, Spencer, and Emily’s voices all overlap as they react to the news.

“My mom just said she’s in the hospital. She hadn’t heard anything yet.” Luke feels like he’s on autopilot while he speaks. He doesn’t even really know what he’s saying- he just knows he needs to go. Fast.

Of course Emily excuses him. She even insists that he takes the jet with promises that he’ll keep the team updated.

On the plane ride back home, Luke can’t stop thinking about that morning. Normally, Luke always kisses you goodbye and tells you he loves you. He’d almost call it a routine if he didn’t mean it so much. But that morning he’d been in a rush. All he could think about was where his stupid phone charger was. He remembers how frantically he had to search, barely acknowledging your attempts to say your affectionate goodbye. And he’d hurried out of the house without so much as a wave.

What if that was the last time he saw you? What if the last thing he ever did was disappoint you?

He remembers the sad look in your eyes as he left you alone in the kitchen, messy hair and tank top strap sliding slightly off your shoulder, he can’t get it out of his head.

And now it’s going to haunt him forever.

None of this was supposed to happen. He’s supposed to protect you– that’s his job. He’s supposed to protect you better than anyone else. He’s supposed to be able to keep you safe, always.

But he didn’t.

He feels sick.

…

It’s chaos when Luke finally arrives at the hospital and finds both his and your family in the waiting room on the floor he barely remembers his mom telling him to go to. He vaguely registers the presence of your parents in the hallway. He doesn’t even say hello.

Instead he asks, “Where is she? What’s going on?”

“We haven’t heard anything yet,” your mom says.

“What the hell happened?”

“Someone t-boned her at an intersection, right on the driver’s side. She’s in surgery now, doctor’s haven’t been able to update us much.” Your dad pulls your mother into his embrace, kissing the top of her head.

Luke shakes his head, like he couldn’t quite process what was happening.

You must have been so scared and he wasn’t there.

All he can picture is you, amidst the rubble of a car accident. How much pain you must have been in. The fear and panic you must have experienced.

And he wasn’t there.

He needs to see you.

Luke marches over to the nurses station without uttering another word to your parents or his mother. He puts his hands on the counter before speaking. “I need an update on a patient.” He tells the nurse your name.

“I’m sorry sir, she’s still in surgery. The doctor will come out and give you an update on her condition as soon as possible.”

Luke bites his lip. He wants to scream and yell and pound his fists. But instead he nods and uses what little energy he had left to let go of his anger. “Thanks,” he sighs in defeat.

He’s unaware of how much time passes, he’s too engulfed in his own thoughts, too preoccupied with punishing himself for not paying more attention to you this morning to keep track. The waiting room was eerily empty and quiet enough so that Luke could hear the faint humming coming from the fluorescent lights above. He chews on his nail roughly, trying not to focus on the silence.

When a woman in a pair of dark blue scrubs walks down the hallway peeling off a pair of latex gloves, Luke instantly snaps out of his trance and stands up.

The doctor holds her hand out to shake and introduces herself to Luke and your parents.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” she says. She turns to face Luke. “I want you to know that your wife, Y/N, is alive. She’s alive.”

There’s a moment where everyone lets out a sigh of relief before continuing to listen to what the doctor has to say.

“Y/N came into the ER bleeding and with a broken collar bone, a fractured arm, and a couple of broken ribs. But my biggest concern was the swelling in her brain.”

Luke is barely processing what the doctor is saying. Imagining you in such a state is almost unbearable, but he keeps quiet and continues listening.

“We were able to relieve some of the swelling in her skull, which should take the pressure off of her brain. It was touch and go for a while there- the damage was,” she pauses for a moment before finishing her thought, “extensive.”

“Is she going to be alright?” Your mom asks the question everyone is wondering.

“We’ll need to monitor her levels overnight. But I would say the worst part is behind us. She’s a fighter.”

“Can we see her?” Luke asks.

The doctor nods.

It takes a minute to realize that it’s even you lying in that bed. You’re hooked up to all these machines that are beeping so loudly, and there’s IV’s and cords hanging over you. A wave of nausea hits Luke again, the realization of how hurt you are. His girl. His beautiful, perfect, broken girl.

He sinks into the chair at your bedside, hands shaking when he sees the bandage wrapped around your head. You look so pale and so weak.

He can’t stop staring at your face, willing you to open your eyes and just look at him.

He should have protected his girl.

He scoots the chair forward, reaching out a trembling hand to clasp yours. His fingertips graze your knuckle. Skin that was once smooth is now littered with cuts and bruises.

Gently cradling your fingers in his, it’s only when the tears hit his arm that he even realizes he’s crying. He kisses your knuckles softly, resting his forehead against your hand.

The thought of you needing him made his insides ache with guilt. You needed him and he wasn’t there. He clutches your hand tightly and prays to whatever God might be out there. Let her wake up, he pleads. Please, let her wake up and I promise I’ll never not be there again.

…

It’s been less than a week since you were released from the hospital and you’re ready to murder Luke.

At first all his doting attention was kind of sweet. You loved that he had taken some time off to care for you. He was being a loving, attentive boyfriend, taking care of his poor, injured girlfriend.

You know that deep down it’s because he feels guilty. You had already assured Luke over and over again that you in no way blamed him for what happened. How the hell was he supposed to protect you from a car accident when he was eight hundred miles away?

But that did little to amuse Luke.

You really are doing much better. Sure it was a long road of recovery in the hospital. You’d seen physical therapists and occupational therapists and nurses and doctors and everything in between every day for weeks. And yes, your arm is still in a cast, and it still hurts your ribs when you laugh. But every day you’re gaining more and more independence. Or at least you’re trying to. But Luke won’t let you.

You try to be patient with him, but the patience is wearing thin. No matter how many times you tell him nicely; he just doesn’t seem to get it.

This morning he had waited on the lid of the toilet seat while you showered, asking if you needed help or if you were okay approximately one thousand times.

When you were done, he handed you your towel. By the time you’d wiped your body dry, you noticed that your hair dryer and products were all laid out on top of the counter, as opposed to its usual spot underneath the sink.

“Let me get that for you,” he says at breakfast, and with a quick reach, the box of cereal you had been reaching for is pulled down by Luke. He hands it over to you with a smile.

Muttering a soft, “Thanks,” you turn to reach for your empty bowl, which has been supplied by, drumroll and you guessed it… Luke.

After pouring in the dry cereal, you turn to go to the fridge, only to be met by his smiling face again. Only this time, he’s holding the milk.

Wordlessly taking the milk, you make your way back to the cereal, pouring a little in. You don’t fail to notice his arm shoot out and grab the milk to put it away. Maybe once you have your breakfast, you can try and talk to him about hovering. You’re always a little crankier when you’re hungry. And the last thing you want to do is start a fight, Luke is just trying to help after all. Closing your eyes, you take a steadying breath.

Clink. A cup of coffee hits the countertop next to you.

Thud. The creamer is placed directly beside it.

Clatter. And there’s the spoon.

Damn it, you think.

“Luke, I can’t take this!!” you cry out, turning to face him, he freezes in the middle of opening the creamer for you. “I can’t breathe with you hovering over me like this. You do everything for me! You get my clothes and my shoes, you fetch the remote, you make my food. How the hell am I ever supposed to get better if you just make me feel so helpless? I just can’t do it Luke. I can’t.”

You exhale a sharp breath.

Luke’s lack of a response makes you even more angry, so you keep going. “I know I may appear like this helpless damsel in distress. But despite what you may believe, I can actually take care of myself! I can survive without you hovering over me!”

“But you almost didn’t,” Luke whispers. He hangs his head, his gaze fixating on the floor.

All the anger you felt immediately exits your body. In fact, you wonder why the hell you were even mad in the first place. You take a cautious step towards him, and sigh.

“Luke,” you whisper.

He refuses to look at you. It makes your heart ache. You hadn’t realized how much he was hurting over this. You just thought he was being overprotective and overbearing. But of course the guilt has still been consuming him.

“I need you to hear this, okay? I need you to look at me when I say this to you,” you take his hand in yours.

“Luke, look at me,” you urge.

He turns, his eyes glistening with tears. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Luke isn’t the one who breaks. He is usually the one comforting you. And yet here you are– roles reversed for the first time.. His hand squeezes yours gently while he takes a deep breath.

It takes him a moment, but he nods.

“Baby,” you mumble, “I’m okay. I’m here and I’m okay,”

“You don’t understand,” he says, shaking his head. “You didn’t see– you weren’t there– you didn’t see what I saw. Fuck, Y/N. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought- I mean- you were hooked up to all those machines- and you had all these cuts and bruises. You were all bandaged up. Christ, they had to drill a hole into your head! It’s my job to protect you, to take care of you, and I didn’t. I wasn’t there-.”

You launch yourself into him then, your good arm wrapping around his torso and clinging to him tightly. He’s quick to hug you back, anchoring you to him.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he says, his head resting on top of yours.

“You didn’t,” you reassure him, shaking your head against his chest.

“I know,” he finally whispers. “And I am so, so thankful for that.”

You pull back from your hug, holding Luke out in front of you. “Baby, I love you.” You tell him. “I love you so much and I am so grateful that you’ve been so supportive and helpful during all of this. But if you don’t stop, I might have to kill you,” your face breaks out into a grin.

Luke laughs at that. “I don’t like it, but… okay,” he nods in affirmation.

“Okay?” you ask skeptically. “That means no more having every single meal, snack, and drink waiting for me. No more sitting outside when I’m in the shower. And no more hands on my back when I go down the stairs.”

Luke huffs.

“Oh, and no more having my clothes picked out for me either.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “No more feet or backrubs?” he asks cheekily.

Your eyes widen and you instantly begin to regret your little tantrum. “Baby steps, Alvez. I’m not completely healed yet.”

#luke alvez imagine #luke alvez #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader imagines #criminal minds

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moremaybank · 1 year

Text

EVERYTHING — r.c

pairing non canon!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary five moments in which rafe's heart clenches with love for you (based on the song "everything" by kehlani)

warnings hella fluff, soft!rafe, slight reference to sex but no smut or descriptive language, language (cussing), i think that's it

author’s note idk if anyone cares, but i'm really freaking proud of this

rafe masterlist ;; valentine’s event ‘23 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

i could blame it on the physical

i could blame it on your lips, your touch, your kiss

you know, real traditional

but your love’s too original

you are anything but conventional

baby, did you know that

from the moment we fell in, i knew we couldn’t fall back

knew i’d always crawl back, ooh

rafe had an exceedingly terrible day.

work was horrible, he got into an argument with ward, his food order was delivered to the wrong address across the island. nothing went his way or worked out in his favour.

when he got home, he practically ignored you, changing his clothes and giving you a swift and seemingly impersonal peck on the cheek before leaving and slamming the door behind him. he didn’t want to snap or take his anger out on you accidentally, so he hopped in the car and drove to the beach, hoping the fresh air, the waves crashing over the shore, and the breathtaking view would help clear his head.

of course, being you, you noticed something was obviously wrong with him. you also knew where his favourite thinking spot was.

you arrived at the beach, your eyes immediately finding rafe’s sitting figure closer to the shore. you made your way over to him, carrying your flip-flops so you could feel the soft, cool sand underneath your feet. rafe must have sensed that you were coming because he spoke the minute you reached him.

“how’d you know i was here?”

you plopped down next to him, “i know you, remember?”

he let out a soft chuckle, his eyes focused on the water before him.

“you wanna talk about it?”

rafe shook his head, “not really. honestly, it’s not even worth dwelling on. i just needed to take a breather, you know?” the wind blew one of his long strands into his eyes, and you were quick to smooth it away from his face, letting your fingers flow through his locks.

“yeah. i get it.”

his eyes found yours, and he was able to give you a small smile. you guys sat there for a while, watching the water come closer to you but never quite reaching as it retreated from the shore. as the wheels in your mind churned, an idea popped into your head. you stood up, shrugging off your sweater and pulling your leggings down your legs.

rafe looked at you like you were insane, “what the hell are you doing?”

“you deserve to have fun, and honestly, so do i. i’m going in there,” you spoke, motioning over to the water, “you coming?”

rafe couldn’t help the smile that formed, and he got up from his spot on the sand, stripping himself of his clothing. “hell yeah.”

you grinned, running off toward the water with rafe hot on your heels. he reached you, capturing you and throwing you over his shoulder as he ran you two into the cool water.

eventually, after play fighting and splashing each other with the water nonstop, you and rafe waded deeper into the water. he pulled you close, and you threw your arms around the back of his neck as your legs wrapped around his waist. you remained there, bodies swaying back and forth lightly due to the movement of the water as you embraced each other tightly. rafe moved his face closer to yours, his forehead leaning against yours as he closed his eyes.

“i love you,” he breathed.

“w—what?” you stammered, your heart pounding as you tried to register what he had just said.

“i love you, princess. you’re the only one who knows what i need without asking. you’re always there for me, and it means everything. i love you.”

you and rafe had never said 'i love you' before, not to each other. it wasn’t that neither of you felt it, because you’d both been feeling it for some time now, but you didn’t want to rush into it or scare each other away. but now that rafe had fessed up, your fear melted away, and all you felt was courage and bravery.

“i love you too."

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, for me

baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, oh, for me

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything, no tryin’

you be shinin’, my silver linin’

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, yeah, oh, for me

“baby, you almost ready? i don’t want to miss our reservation,” rafe called from the bottom of the stairs. he’d already been waiting for you downstairs for twenty minutes. he hated to rush you, but he was getting impatient.

“you can’t rush perfection, babe! five more minutes, i swear!”

“mhm,” he hummed — more to himself than you — while fidgeting with the rolex wrapped around his wrist.

rafe’s mind had wandered off as he waited for your arrival, but the minute you emerged onto the stairs, his attention was captured. his jaw went slack, eyes glued to your form as you hypnotized him.

your hair was perfect, your chosen hairstyle completed meticulously. your makeup enhanced your already stunning features in a way that mesmerized him. your dress hugged every single one of the curves that adorned your body, and the heels you wore accentuated your smooth, glowy legs. you smelled extra sweet today, no doubt bringing your favourite and most-luxurious perfume into play. the light from the chandelier reflected off your jewelry; the diamond necklace rafe had gifted you for your birthday, accompanied by the matching studded earrings and bracelet.

“okay, i’m ready,” you said. your brows furrowed when rafe didn’t answer since his eyes were still locked on you, and you waved your hand in his face in an attempt to grab his attention. “rafe?”

rafe dragged a hand over his face, still in shock, “you’re…perfect. i'm officially the luckiest man alive.”

“stop,” you said, tearing your gaze from his as your cheeks turned crimson.

“i’m serious. c’mere,” he said, pulling you into his arms. his index finger hooked under your chin, lifting your gaze to his again. “you’re beautiful, baby. you take my breath away every single day. you’re perfect, and i’m going to remind you of that any chance i get. now get your fine ass in the car,” he said, fingers tapping your butt.

you grinned, “whatever you say, mr. cameron.”

during the car ride, your turned to look at rafe, who was concentrated entirely on the road. the moonlight snuck in through the windshield, illuminating his striking features and making your heart clench. he truly was so gorgeous that it hurt.

you also couldn’t help but think about all the time and money he spent to make the night perfect for you. while you appreciated the effort (because he really was being so damn sweet), you also felt extremely guilty. did he think that you needed all of this? the extravagant date nights, expensive gifts and luxurious lifestyle?

“you know you don’t have to do all this, right?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

“do what?” rafe questioned.

“buy me jewelry and take me to fancy-ass dinners. that’s not why i’m with you. i honestly would’ve been fine with staying home and devouring a ten-piece nugget meal from mcdonald’s.”

“baby—”

“hear me out. i’m with you because i love the man that you are. you’re so kind, and loyal, and you have a heart of gold that you dust off and put on display when you’re with me. you're strikingly handsome, and you make me the happiest girl in the world just by being near me. i need you to trust that.”

rafe couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips. you were so grateful and appreciative of everything he did for you, and it just made him want to spoil you to the ends of the earth even more. once again, he’d been completely immersed in the love he felt for you.

he reached over the middle console, his hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers together. he brought your clasped hands to his mouth and kissed yours, letting his lips linger. “i do trust that. but you’re a princess. my princess, and you deserve to be treated that way. so let me take your sexy ass out for a romantic dinner, and then when we get home, i’ll throw you on our bed and show you how much i love you in a completely different way. deal?”

for the second time tonight, rafe had turned you speechless and bright red in response to his words. you nodded, “can’t argue with that.”

“you’re right,” rafe smirked, “you can’t.”

love the way you teach me

love the way you listen

you know all my details

you so damn attentive

you got my attention, babe

can’t forget to mention, babe

i’ma keep you lifted

you so fuckin’ gifted

rafe was lying on his stomach atop your mattress as he watched you do your makeup at your vanity.

“you’re pretty,” he smiled.

you made eye contact with him in the reflection of your mirror, “flatterer.”

you had just completed your eye look and were now moving on to the rest of the steps for your face. you grabbed a big blush brush, swiping some colour back onto your cheeks. next, you picked up your highlighter, moving to grab the brush for it when rafe popped up beside you.

“what’s that?” rafe asked. “it’s sparkly.”

you laughed, “it’s called highlight. you put it on the high points of your face to accentuate them and make them pop.”

“can i put it on you?”

your chest filled with warmth as you looked at rafe’s hopeful expression. he genuinely looked eager to apply it on you, and it was the cutest thing ever. you smoothed your hand over his cheek, “of course, handsome.” you handed him the shimmery pressed powder and the brush you used to apply it.

“okay so you want to put it on my cheekbones, the bridge and tip of my nose, my cupid’s bow, and the inner corners of my eyes if you’re feeling fancy,” you instructed.

“got it,” rafe said, but he hesitated. “wait…what's a cupid’s bow?”

you let out a laugh, pointing to the spot directly above your top lip. “right here, babe.”

“ohhh,” he replied. he used the brush you’d handed him to pick up some product — quite a lot of product, one might add — and went straight for your face.

“woah, woah, woah. hold it, cameron,” you said, grabbing a gentle hold of his wrist. “you gotta tap the excess off, that way, there isn’t too much on my face.”

“like this?” rafe questioned, tapping the brush lightly against the product's packaging.

“exactly like that,” you encouraged. “now, you just have to swipe it over the places i told you with a gentle hand.”

rafe couldn’t deny the butterflies swarming around in his stomach while you tried to teach him. he appreciated how patient and understanding you were with him. you were always so gentle with him, and it was different from how everyone else treated him. they were never calm or even-tempered, but instead, quick to frustration. you, however, were different.

he crouched down, coming face to face with you as he raised the brush to the high points of your cheeks. his tongue poked out between his lips, and his brows pulled together as he concentrated. he dusted the highlight down the bridge of your nose next and then paid extra attention to the tip of it. he left the cupid’s bow for last, eyes squinting as he placed the shimmer with care. his eyes flickered to yours, noticing the way you were staring at him.

“what is it?”

you shrugged with a smile, “you just look really cute when you’re all determined.”

you watched the blush rise to rafe’s cheeks as he tore away his gaze from you. “baby,” he whined.

“what? you are,” you smiled, leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose. “you’re freakin’ adorable.”

“so are you.”

and how many girls out in the world can say that they had it?

and how many bitches that became your misses can maintain the status?

that was before me, it’s childish, you done with your wilin’

now you can be wild with me, run that mile with me

catch some flights out with me, oh

i match your energy, match your fly perfectly

lips lock intensively, want you extensively

i know you was made for me, think you was made with me

shit feel like destiny

you’d asked rafe to come with you to watch a meteor shower on the mainland. rafe would never dare deny any of your wishes, so he obliged.

the two of you made a day of it, dressing up all cute and going out for dinner. you enjoyed a walk in a local park, watching the sunset unfold as you two strolled hand in hand. after that, you’d gotten some ice cream, unable to help yourself from stealing a bite of rafe’s. then, you’d driven to the lookout point where you could watch the meteor shower from the perfect view.

rafe could feel the excitement radiating off of you all day long as you spoke about how beautiful it would be. your eyes glimmered, a massive smile on your face as you chatted on, and all rafe could think about was how special you were. he was so lucky to be there that day, spending time with the most angelic and magnificent girl on the planet. you’d captured his heart, and he knew you’d never let it go.

“think about how cool it’s going to look, babe. this is like, witnessing god up close or something,” you yammered eagerly.

rafe looked down at you, your gaze focused on the sky as you stood next to him, leaning on the hood of his car. “you’re so perfect. how’d the universe come up with you, huh?”

“what are you talking about?” you questioned, now quiet as a mouse.

“you’re just so lovable. everything about you makes me fucking weak. like how you stop and play with every dog you see when we’re walking together, the way you quirk your eyebrow when you’re confused but don’t want to ask for help, how you fidget with your rings when you’re nervous,” rafe listed, gazing into your eyes with love.

“geez, you make me sound like a freak,” you joked.

“well, you are kinda freaky. you did just ask me to take you in the backseat of my car before we came out here,” he teased, poking your side.

“rafe. oh my god,” you scolded, smacking his chest but blushing as you did so.

he chuckled, “i’m kidding. i’m just saying that there’s so much to adore about you. like the look in your eyes when i told you i loved you that day on the beach. the way you bring me soup and kiss me when i’m sick, even though you know you’ll end up catching whatever it is that i have. you’re always so kind to me and my family and friends, and you treat them like your own. you’re different from any girl i’ve ever been with. i can actually see myself living a happy, joy-filled life with you. because of you. i’m just so fucking grateful for you.”

you turned to him, your arms wrapping around his torso as you looked up at him. “i’m grateful for you too, my love. you’re so special to me, truly.”

his hands held your face, and he pulled you in for a kiss. it was slow and sweet. gentle but still firm enough to convey his love for you through. his lips lingered before he pulled away, “promise me you’ll stay with me for a while?”

“i’d stay with you forever if you asked, cameron.”

‘cause, baby, it’s the everything for me

for me, yeah, oh, for me

this is such a different thing for me

for me, yeah, oh, for me

baby, it’s the everything, no tryin’

you be shinin’, my silver linin’

‘case, baby, it’s the everything for me

oh, for me

everything, everything, everything

rafe tossed and turned in his sleep, hardly being able to remain so. he could hear the gusts of wind outside, and the sounds of cars driving past his house on the street. he could see the moonlight peaking in from the blinds of his bedroom window and shining right into his eyes. he huffed in frustration, trying to sink into the bed and get comfortable. from your place beside him, you shifted in your sleep, smushing your face further into the fluffy pillow.

deciding he didn’t want to wake you up, he carefully got out of bed and headed down to the kitchen. he got himself a glass of water, the cool liquid quelling the dryness in his throat. he stood there, sweatpants hung low on his hips as they pressed against the cold marble counter. he stared out the window as his mind wandered.

rafe was lost in his train of thought when you arrived in the kitchen, sleepily rubbing the tired out of your eyes as you walked over to him. you gained his attention when you wrapped your arms around his midsection and leaned your forehead between his bare shoulder blades.

“what’s wrong, handsome? can’t sleep?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “didn’t wanna wake you with all my movement. plus, i was thirsty.”

you moved to his side, keeping one arm wrapped around him, “anything i can do to help? maybe we could watch a movie? or we could go for a late-night drive to get some slurpees?”

“aren’t you tired?”

you shook your head, “‘m never too tired for you. can’t sleep without you either.”

“get dressed,” he smiled.

after the two of you had happily made your way to the gas station for your slurpees, you sat in an empty parking lot, just enjoying each other’s company and consuming the bags of candy that neither of you could deny buying. music played softly in the background as you and rafe spoke about anything and everything. you’d laughed, reminisced about your favourite memories of one another, and shared secrets that had never been spilled up until that point.

“i can’t believe you never told me you used to do gymnastics. what else have you been holding out on me, baby?”

“nothing,” you laughed. “there’s gotta be pictures of me in my getup somewhere. i’ll ask my mom the next time i talk to her.”

“i bet you looked adorable.”

“i looked bald. my hair was so slicked back, i’m surprised i still have hair to this day.”

rafe laughed, “you’re ridiculous.”

“you love it, cameron,” you winked.

the laughter died down after a while, the two of you sitting there in peaceful silence. you’d ended up joining hands, with you playing with rafe’s large fingers. you traced the lines of his palm with a light touch from your index finger, and your touch was so gentle that it tickled him. goosebumps erupted all over his skin at your contact, an effect you had on him that never seemed to go away.

“how is it that you always know what i need?” rafe asked, looking down at both of your hands in your lap.

“how many times do i have to tell you, baby? i know you.”

“you do, and i love you so much for it. you mean everything to me, you know that?”

you turned to face him, surging forward slowly and planting a kiss on his lips. he sighed into it in contentment, one hand coming up to cradle your face.

“you’re everything to me too.”

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gemini-sensei · 8 months

Text

Biggest Surprise | Cobra Kai x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Request: I was wondering if you could do any headcanons or maybe a blurb on Reader having a cryptic pregnancy? And she out of the blue goes into labor or has the baby/s?

CW: secret relationship, mentioned sneaking out, hospitals, cryptic/stealth pregnancy, labor pains, very brief discussion of miscarriage, surprise baby,

Reader was walking into the kitchen of her shared apartment to grab a snack on the afternoon her life changed forever. She greeted Moon as she walked past, both wearing pretty smiles. It was a regular day of the week as far as they were concerned, rather chill and uneventful so far.

Except when she opened the fridge, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She threw the door away to grab her stomach, making everything in the door rattle. It caught Moon's attention and she stood up.

"Are you okay?" she asked, walking over as Reader groaned in pain.

"I don't know," she mumbled.

The pain passed and Reader let out a heavy breath. She took a moment to calm down, but it was a little hard with Moon fussing over her. Whatever that pain was, it wasn't anything to get worked up over. So she shrugged her roommate off with a little smile and thanks, then grabbed the snack she'd initially come in there for.

Moon watched her. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Reader nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was probably nothing."

They let it go and Reader went to her room, But about thirty minutes later, the same pain shot through her again. She was lying in bed, groaning as she withered on the sheets, texting Moon that it was happening again.

It didn't take long for Moon to get to her room but by the time she got to Reader, her roommate was halfway curled up on her side, holding her pudgy belly. She saw the tears in her eyes and the pained look on her face, making Moon feel horrible as she wanted nothing more than for her friend to be okay.

As she rubbed Reader's arm, trying to comfort her, she said, "We should go to the hospital."

"Yeah, probably," Reader groaned. The idea scared her, but what choice did they really have? "What could this be?"

"You could have a ruptured spleen or something," Moon suggested.

They waited for the pain to pass again before Moon helped Reader up and into her shoes. They walked down to Moon's car, where Reader got another shock of pain as soon as she sat down and started crying.

"Oh, God, Moon, please hurry!" she begged.

Moon helped buckle her in and rushed to the driver's side. She drove them to the hospital as fast as she possibly could without getting pulled over, though they got pretty lucky with green lights and little traffic. It was an agonizing ride for Reader as she dealt with the pain with loud groans; it was unlike anything she had ever felt before and it was hard not to scream.

When they arrived at the hospital, Reader hobbled up to the door until a nurse saw them coming in and brought over a wheelchair. Moon explained what was going on and they took Reader into a room quickly so they could figure out what was wrong with her. They took her vitals and asked her questions about her previous health and any sicknesses, and then they took her blood and promised to come back. It took a while and everything was up in the air until the doctor came in.

She introduced herself and smiled calmly, hoping to keep the air in the room as easy as possible. "I just have to ask you a few questions. When was the last time you were sexually active?"

Reader felt a little embarrassed as the topic came up. She glanced over at Moon, who had no idea of anything she'd been up to over the last year or so. She'd firmly told all of her friends that she wasn't interested in seeing anyone, but that really wasn't the case at all... However, she knew better than to lie to the doctor.

"A few weeks ago, why?" she asked. She couldn't have gotten an STI or anything like that. She didn't get hurt, at least that she could remember. So that left one final option. "Oh my god! Am I pregnant?"

The doctor maintained a calm demeanor. "Yes, yes you are. We were so shocked by the results, we had to run the tests two more times just to make sure."

Moon gasped softly, but didn't give any judgment or words about the secret Reader had been keeping. If anything, her dating life was the last thing on everyone's mind and Moon had her priorities in the right places. "Is the baby okay? I mean, Reader is in a lot of pain. Is she...?"

The doctor quickly shook her head. "No, no. Nothing like that. In fact, Reader... you're in labor. Those pains you're feeling are contractions, you're body preparing to deliver the baby."

"What? But that can't be right. I never even knew about it!" Reader cried out desperately. She was nowhere near ready to have a baby. She'd only just found out she was pregnant. She shook her head, crying harshly, and Moon tried to wipe away her tears. "This can't be happening! I can't have a baby!"

The doctor came over to comfort her as well, shushing her gently. She had a very maternal nature to her that helped ease Reader as her sobs turned into soft whimpers. "Hey, hey, I know this is scary. This is a lot for you to find out in just a few minutes, but you're going to be okay. My staff and I are going to take care of you two and you're going to be just fine, alright?"

Reader nodded, though she had a few questions about all of this. "How is this even possible?"

The doctor sighed. "It's fairly rare. It's called a cryptic pregnancy. Usually, very few or no symptoms present themselves and you're body doesn't change much. For the most part, some women will learn of the pregnancy halfway through. You're one of the ones that have made it to full term it seems."

They all fell silent as the information sank in. Then Moon asked, "So what now?"

"We'll, you're pretty close to giving birth. We're going to move you to the maternity ward before that happens and we're going to give you the rundown of what's going to happen," the doctor explained. "We're going to try and prepare you for this as much as we can before the baby comes."

"Okay," Reader said, laying her head back as she had to sit with the reality of the situation.

She was about to have a baby. A baby she didn't know about, a baby conceived months ago, a baby wasn't even slightly prepared for. She put a hand over her stomach, feeling nothing but soft, plush fat. It was hard to imagine there was a baby somewhere behind it, ready to be born nonetheless. And it scared the crap out of her. Where was she going to put a baby? How was she going to raise a baby? How was she going to tell the father?

Before she could think of any solutions, another wave of contractions rushed through her and she grit her teeth, groaning. She knew that the closer they got to each other, the closer her baby was to being born, and she was terrified. What was she going to do?

xxx

After being moved to the maternity ward, Reader was taken through some brief albeit helpful coaching. She listened to the doctor carefully and had Moon at her side the whole time. Though it was a startling and scary experience, Moon was optimistic throughout the whole situation. She held Reader's hand through contractions and promised that she was going to stay there with her for the whole thing. It made Reader feel ten times better.

When they were left alone, Moon finally asked, "Is there anyone you want me to call?"

She didn't ask who the father was. She didn't pry. She only asked if Reader wanted him there. It was so simple and sweet of her, and Reader appreciated it. If only it helped her figure out what to do.

"I don't know," she mumbled, thinking of her boyfriend. They'd been dating for almost a year, albeit in secret.

They hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of their relationship, thinking that if they started dating, it could meddle with their friend group. It was already hard enough with the whole backstory of Tory and Miguel and Sam and Robby thing always in the past. No one ever mentioned it, but they all knew it was there. What was the sense in making things harder? Then things just happened and she and her boyfriend liked being alone together, no one asking them dumb questions or getting in their way. It was easy, simple, lovely. So they snuck around and told some little white lies to see each other. No harm, no foul. Neither of them could have predicted where it would lead them.

Moon nodded in understanding. "Okay." She stood up and came to sit at Reader's side, showing her roommate her phone as her mood brightened. "Well, I started a list of things we're going to need. Obvious diapers and clothes and blankets and bottles-"

"Whoa, Moon, slow down," Reader said, looking between her and the long list she curated. "We don't even know what's going to happen. I mean, I haven't taken any prenatal meds or anything like that. I mean, what if the baby is sick or I'm not even allowed to keep them?"

"The hospital isn't going to take your baby from you, Reader," Moon told her, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder. "And secondly, it isn't like you drink or do drugs, so I bet the baby is fine. And if they are sick, we can figure it out."

"We?"

"I told you, I'm here for you. For all of this, not just the birth."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You don't have to. That's what best friends are for."

It wasn't long after that when the doctor and nurses came in and Reader was being instructed to push. Moon held her hand through the whole process, telling her that she was doing a great job. The delivery didn't take very long either. Reader pushed all of four times before the little one slid out and the doctor caught them.

Moon was encouraging her and telling her how proud she was of her when the loud wail of a baby broke the air. Both young women looked up to see the doctor holding up the messy infant with happy eyes.

"It's a boy."

"He's so little," Reader said as her baby was laid on her chest. She smiled at him, through the tears and sweat that poured down her face. Overcome with pride and love, she cried. "Hi there."

He nestled up to her, wailing and fussy. They were given a minute before a nurse scooped him up to be cleaned and evaluated. Reader watched from her position on the bed, her smile never leaving her face. Suddenly, her whole world had changed and it was all because of that little boy, whom she loved so much.

Once he was declared healthy, things moved quickly after that. Reader was cleaned up and checked on, her baby boy was dressed and given a bassinet to rest in, and things calmed down after that. Moon and Reader talked for a little bit about what to do and how they were going to do things, but as soon as Reader yawned, Moon told her that they would pick up the conversation later. Before she fell asleep, though, Reader asked Moon to tell their friends to come by the next day. She wanted them all to meet her son. Moon told her she'd let them know and with that, Reader fell asleep.

xxx

The following day, when everyone showed up at the hospital, they were a little confused as to where they were going and why they were there. Moon hadn't been very specific in the details, as she'd been almost as tired as Reader when she'd sent the text to the group chat, so everyone arrived a little worried.

They were chatting in the waiting, trying to figure out what they were doing there and what was going on. Yasmine had texted Moon that they were there, all having shown up within minutes of each other because as soon as visiting hours started, they were all pretty much there. Moon came out to get them and she was smiling wide.

"Oh, you all made it. Reader is going to be so happy to see you," she said.

Miguel asked, rather concerned. "Is she okay? What happened?"

"Yeah, you all you said was that Reader was in the hospital and wanted to see us," Sam said, just as worried. "Then we all texted you and you never texted back."

Moon got a guilty and apologetic look on her face. "Oops. I'm sorry. So much has happened. We've pretty much been here since yesterday afternoon and last night I fell asleep. My bad."

"Reader isn't dying, is she?" Robby asked.

"What? No, nothing like that," Moon said, shaking her head. She waved for them to follow her and she started walking. "Just follow me. It's something you kind of have to see to believe."

They walked down a few halls and as they approached the room, Moon slowed down and put a finger to her lips. "Shh. You have to be quiet when you walk in. I'm looking at you, Hawk."

"I can be quiet," he said defensively.

Moon playfully rolled her eyes as Sam elbowed him in the side, then she opened the door and led them inside. No one was ready for what they saw inside.

Reader was sitting on the bed with a small bundle wrapped up in her arms. She was smiling and talking softly, not noticing the group coming into the room at first. They were in a state of shock as they watched her, not at all believing what they were seeing until a tiny hand lifted from the blue blanket in her arms and reached for her. She reached back and let the little hand take hold of her finger.

"Oh my god," Yasmine let out.

Tory scoffed. "Well, that's the last thing I expected."

"What were you actually expecting?" Demetri asked.

"Stitches," she asked.

Reader looked up and smiled at her friends. "Hey."

Sam hurried over and stood at the end of the bed, as if to get a closer look but was scared to get too close. For as shocked as she was, she kept her voice calm and steady, not wanting to tighten the baby. "Reader, I didn't even know you were pregnant."

"Neither did I."

Everyone's jaws dropped at that.

"Are you serious?" Tory asked, walking over with Yasmine close behind.

The guys followed, too, but let the ladies go to Reader first, as they were obviously far more excited and ready to face the reality of the situation than they were.

Reader nodded to Tory. "Yeah. No symptoms, no changes. No indication at all. And yet, he's as healthy as can be."

She looked back down at her baby, who was looking up at her with big, pretty eyes. She couldn't help but think that he had his father's eyes, but she kept that thought to herself. They were beautiful and she loved them.

"It's a boy?" Yasmine asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Reader giggled.

The ladies - mostly Moon, Sam, and Yasmine - engaged Reader and talked about the baby, fussing over him and his mere existence. They talked a little about how it had happened and what was going to happen next, which was when Demetri and Miguel stepped in and asked the harder-hitting and logical questions - how was she going to pay for a baby? Where was he going to stay and sleep? Where was she going to get everything she needed for a baby? It was a lot to think about and they within good reason to be asking such questions.

Robby and Hawk stayed close to the wall, both a little awkward in the situation. Robby was a little uneasy around babies and though Hawk worked with young kids at the dojo, he had little experience with babies. They didn't say much but congratulated Reader.

When asked if anyone wanted to hold him, Yasmine and Sam got into a small argument over who should get to hold him first, failing to realize Moon had been the first person after Reader to get to hold him. Ultimately, the honor went to Miguel, who was just as eager to hold the little guy.

It was a night moment, all of them together, celebrating this new life. Reader was absolutely scared shitless but her friends assured her that she wasn't going to be alone in this. As far as they were concerned, the baby was one of them now. They were their own little family after all.

But her stomach still fluttered with butterflies as she looked out at the room, knowing she was going to have to face the father sooner rather than later. That was why she wanted this little meet and greet organized in the first place so that he would show up and meet his son. Reader wouldn't have to tell him one-on-one, even though she knew that perhaps that'd be the best way to do it. She was young and scared and in her mind, this was the easiest way to rip the bandaid off. She knew she'd be talking with him alone soon, but until that time came, she'd enjoy this moment.

Who's the father of Reader's baby? Let me know who you want it to be and I'll write a part two! Or if you want multiple endings and you just choose who you want it to be, I can do that too.

Choose: Hawk | Miguel | Robby | Demetri

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jealusty--movedaccounts · 1 year

Text

Adore You

PAIRINGS : minho × gn! reader

WORD COUNT : 2.8k and some change

GENRE : angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, slightly suggestive (very very slight)

WARNINGS : mentions of anxiety/depression (not descriptive), the world showing the reader the middle finger, established relationship, minho calls the reader bunny, lots of hugging and cuddling, minho is whipped, and a very respectful gentleman (except for when he gropes the reader but he's just a touchy feely person, okay), they're so in love, minho gets emotional and cries :(, also gets a little horny and almost pops a boner lmao.

lower case intended.

A/N : hi! here is some fluffy whipped minho for you. this fic is my first baby so please treat it well. feedbacks and reblogs are very highly appreciated! proofread like a thousand times, so we should be good as far as mistakes go. still let me know if anything needs fixing!

feel free to let me know what you liked and what you didn't, I'll try to change my future works accordingly. enjoy!

Main Masterlist

"min?"

"mm?"

"thank you"

"what for, bunny?"

"no one's ever done this to me."

"done what?"

"adored me like you do."

what a shitshow of a day.

but you've been through worse, right? you can get through this, right? right?

as it turns out,

wrong.

oh so very wrong.

the day was jinxed from the moment you got up on the metaphorical wrong side of the bed. being sleep deprived was nothing out of the ordinary for you, but even so, today it felt as if someone had replaced battery acid for your eye drops you put in the night prior.

great, now I have puffy eyes on top of my dark circles. how cute.

the geyser broke down so you had to take a freezing ice cold shower at 6 AM on a Tuesday morning in February (the weather reports later told you that it had been the coldest day in the last 3 winters in your country, by the way).

love that for me.

you somehow managed to teleport your shivering form into the kitchen. you had no motivation to make anything edible, so cereal it is. you got the milk out, not bothering to heat it up and dumped it into a bowl. lazily kicking open the lower cupboard, you snatched the cereal box, and tried shoving the cereal into the bowl to then quickly shove it down your throat and get this horrible thing called breakfast out of the way... only, nothing came out. the box was empty.

okay, wow. are you serious right now?

you were starting to get irritated.

doesn't matter. I don't like eating anything this early anyway. it's good. perfect, even. I'll just have my morning coffee and be on my way.

you were out of coffee pods. and when you begrudgingly went to make instant coffee, you realised you were out of vanilla syrup as well. already running late, grabbing coffee on your way to work was not an option either.

excuse you!? I can't function without caffiene in my system. I'm practically a zombie without it.

getting ready quickly, you slipped on your favourite pair of sneakers, not caring about your work place dress code.

it can go fuck itself for all I care. I deserve to be comfy at least if I'm not having any caffiene today.

all set, just as you locked your gate, and took the first step forward, you noticed a weight dangling off right underneath your sneakers. glancing down, you were met with the adorable sight of your sole barely hanging on to the base of your shoe.

not my favourite sneakers!

that was just the beginning of the most horribly horrible day in the history of horrible days of your horrible life. and no, you were not exaggerating. the subway was incredibly crowded and you did not get a seat, hanging off the grab bars, bumping against sweaty bodies.

why are they sweaty this early in the goddamn morning!? did they forget the concept of showers?

you were standing right in front of a dude seated on the train bench, shamelessly trying to look up your skirt. you told him off, taking off a part of your frustration on him, with a teenage girl looking up at you in awe. you got to work about a whooping 34 minutes late, which your boss rubbed in your face all day (yes, no round offs here, "you were precisely 34 minutes late. every minute counts after all!"). your best friend called in sick. the canteen was out of your favourite acai. the dry as fuck bread might as well have been sandpaper. you zoned out during the meeting and made a blabbering fool out of yourself when asked for an opinion.

so yeah, when you came back home with a pounding headache - we have the lack of caffiene to thank for that - feeling like shit, wanting to drown in your blankets, and sob yourself to sleep, it was pretty reasonable, you supposed.

so you did just that.

minho was on his way over to your apartment after you had not replied to any of his texts all day. he sent you the usual morning message you loved so much, but never got a response. it was so unlike you. he sent another "are you alright?" message a couple hours later, only to be met with radio silence. figuring you were busy, he didn't bother you any further.

so here he was in an Uber with your apartment as his destination.

deftly climbing out of the cab, he knocked on your door softly a few times. and when he didn't get a response, he pulled the copy of the key you had given him and let himself in. even though he had a copy, he always preferred to knock. partly because he wanted to respect your privacy, which was very valuable to you. he had no sense of personal space or privacy when it came to dating, but it became clear pretty early on in the relationship, that it was something you deeply cared about. and he would always respect what was dear to you. the other reason was that over the course of time, he had come to enjoy seeing you open the door for him - wrapping him in your warm embrace, the blueberry scent that you carried with you everywhere flooding his senses and calming any lingering tension in his muscles - versus getting in himself.

entering your cozy place, he was immediately alert, fire alarms going off in his head upon seeing the darkness engulfing your apartment. the living room, kitchen, the small study room to the side, everything was plunged in darkness. you always kept the lights on and had some heavenly candle burning, which he had come to find comfort in. you never kept the lights off. he couldn't think of any other time when he came over and you had them off. never. except that one time when...

holy shit!

he dashed to the bedroom, swinging the door open, panic coursing through his veins.

at first, he thought the bed was empty with just a ball of blankets tangled together. but as he softly padded across the room to get to the bed, he saw a fluffy head of hair poking out from underneath the edge of the blanket.

gingerly, he tugged it down only to come face to face with your tear stained face. a look of pure horror flicked across his face, as against his better judgement - because you had clearly been through something and were finally getting some sleep - he softly whispers,

"bunny?"

you didn't even stir, clearly exhausted. he felt bad for trying to disturb you from your slumber but he just had to know that his nightmare was not unfolding right in front of his eyes.

"hey, baby, you okay?" he gently nudged your elbow.

opening your eyes, peering up at him through tear drenched eyelashes, you go "minho?" voice groggy.

he gets into bed with you, sliding under the covers, wanting to comfort you. but he couldn't pull you into him just yet. keeping you at arms length, he mutters,

"you doing okay, bunny?" he studies your face and upon not seeing what he was fearing, relaxes a bit.

you don't say anything. instead, opting to slowly shift forward and sniffle into his chest.

"hey, hey, hey, talk to me, bunny. I'm here. I'm here. shhh." he started petting your hair, gliding his fingers through them, massaging your scalp just like he always did because it calmed you down.

"had the worst day." you barely mumble against his chest.

"it's okay. wanna talk about it?"

you slightly shake your head no, grip on him tightening.

"it's okay. everything's okay. I'm here now. we don't have to talk about it. just relax for me, yeah?"

you sigh at that, his hand in your hair lulling you back into the limbo between consciousness and sleep. your breathing evened out soon enough and you felt at peace at last, after the horrible fucking day - the day that could honestly go fucking fuck itself for fucking you over. the fucking irritati-

"woah, woah, bunny, what has you worked up again?" minho's words broke you out of the trance you didn't realise you'd slipped into.

"huh?"

"you're trembling." he wound the other arm underneath and around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, his other hand still in your hair, his chin atop your head.

"you're with me, baby. you're safe."

as your shivering started to subside, he couldn't help but think back to that horrifying thought again. although he did somehow relax a bit initially, his mind was once again plagued with the possibility.. what if-

"no!" he didn't catch himself saying that out loud, until your head snapped up to look at him with bloodshot eyes. the sight broke his heart.

"are you okay, minho?" you whisper, somehow feeling selfish for not noticing until now that he seemed to be worked up too. as comforting as his hold on you was, you were just now realising his body was tense. did he have a bad day too?

as he looked down at you, he scanned your features, carefully trying to gauge out what was actually going on. he didn't see that look on your face. looking into your eyes, he didn't see that distant, far off, aloof emptiness that he once did - all those months ago. he kept staring at you for what felt like hours, eyes never staying at one place for long, nervously raking over every one of your features. but then why were the lights off when he came in? surely history isn't repeating itself. surely you're not-

"minho?"

he jumps at that, coming out of whatever rabbit hole he had gone into. you were looking at him with wide eyes, still bleary from tears and sleep. he found his resolve crumble. he really did want to give you space, to not rush you into telling him what was wrong, but the panic bubbling in his chest was making him downright nauseous with worry. so he says,

"you... you're no- you're not" he gulps "you..." he trails off, words forming an ugly lump in his throat he didn't seem to be able to swallow.

looking into his eyes, you could see the panic, the tension, the dread, his normally handsome face pale with terror.

as if a light bulb went off in your head, you suddenly knew exactly what he was thinking.

you lunge forward, knocking him back a little, clenching your hands into fists and balling up the material of the shirt in front of his chest, burying your face in his neck.

"no, baby, no. I'm okay. it's okay"

you could still feel him tense underneath your fingertips, so you pull your head from where it was nestled in his neck, looking straight into his eyes. steeling yourself, mustering up what little resolve you had left after the day, you spoke with as much assertion as you could,

"I'm not having an episode, minho. that was months ago," you stressed on the word "that was months ago, baby. I went to therapy, I got treated, I got well. it's all in the past now. I'm all healed."

"you know there's no such things as healed. we- we did go to therapy but it can resurface anytime." his voice was barely above a whisper, wobbling around the edges.

we.

he always did that. even back then, it was always we for him. "we were suffering", "we went to therapy", "we'll get through this together", "we're doing better now", "we got over it", "we're gonna stay strong"...

when you look up at him, you see the beginning of tears starting to form in his sombre eyes. your heart clenched.

leaning forward, you softly cupped his face with both hands, voice low but still confident, if only to assure him,

"I know. but you know we can tell when it's happening, right? I can tell that I'm fine. but even moreso, you can see that I'm fine, right? you were always able to tell just by looking at me for a second."

he examines your face once again. after a beat, he's eyes droop into a relaxed stance, his body going limp beside you.

"yeah, you're fine. b-but i.. it scared me. I was scared, baby. it was a very difficult time for us."

there it is, us.

"I- I just.." his voice broke, tears now steadily falling down his pretty, pretty face, dropping onto the mattress, taking your heart with them.

you moved toward him once again, mushing him against you this time, his body plaint in your hold, seeking your warmth.

"I know, baby, I know. it was. but its over now, okay?"

he continued sobbing quietly.

"minho, look at me" he did. you forced a pained smile "I'm smiling, see?"

he let out a huff at that, what could've been a chuckle if he wasn't so out of breath from crying.

"that's obviously fake."

"but if i was indeed.. uh- unwell", you didn't know how else to put it, "I won't be able to fake it either."

which was true. if you were back to that state of mind where you felt breathless in your own skin - a place you might have still been dwelling in, if it wasn't for your boyfriend - you wouldn't even have the energy to talk, let alone try to fake a smile.

he just hummed and went back to snuggle his head in your chest.

"Mr. lee, are you using this as an excuse to cope a feel?" you attempted to lighten the mood.

this time, he actually did chuckle. the sound warmed your heart, healing all the exhaustion from your body.

"do I need an excuse to grope you, bunny?" he was back to his teasing self apparently, shamelessly dragging his hand down to your ass, cupping it and squeezing. hard.

you laughed at that, pecking his lips gently and let yourself relax, his hand still on your ass by the way.

you don't how long you lay there like that with him, listening to the quiet sounds of his breathing, once again floating in the blissful clutches of sleep, albeit, a lot more relaxed now.

and while you were still half awake, you felt something warm, and soft on the top of your head. the feeling travelled down to your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, warming you. it was only when it ghosted against your lips did you realise that it was minho peppering your face with doting kisses. in your dazed state, you could faintly make out his hands brushing your hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ear, tenderly caressing your back.

still more than half asleep, you murmur with your eyes closed, a stupid lazy smile on your face,

"min?"

he smiled at the nickname, the look in his eyes growing even fonder. you never call him that. that nickname is reserved for when you're either trying to act cute to get something from him or during your sleepy incoherent mumbling, apparently. he keens at that, heart fluttering, refusing to stay in one place.

while he's busy swooning, you call out again, pouting, with the same goddamn nickname, sounding entirely too sweet and cute for a grown ass woman. it's almost a whine and is enough to make his head spiral down the gutter. how you whine when you're under him, looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, your face contorted in pleasure, his di-

snapping out of his train of dirty thoughts about an unassuming you, he looks down and is met with your closed eyelids, looking so peaceful and fragile in his hold, and immediately wills himself to calm the fuck down. how humiliating would it be to pop a boner right now. taking a deep breath all he manages to say is,

"mm?"

"thank you."

"what for, bunny?"

"no one's ever done this to me." you mindlessly mumble, not really answering his question, clearly out of it due to your sleepy muddle.

"done what?"

"kissed me like this while I'm asleep. adored me like you do."

his heart swelled at that. wounding around you even more, he spoke into your hair,

"you've got me now. I adore you, bunny. so much."

blissful in your sleepy haze, you shift closer, drifting off into the distant slumber, knowing that you were adored. by a person you adored just as much.

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davesbigwhirlwind · 6 months

Text

My uncle made me into a nerd

I just wasn't that academic I used to tell my mum - she disagreed - she thought I was just lazy. She was probably right.

I was 16 and leaving school and I didn't have any plans. So my mum announced that she'd spoken to my uncle, who had kindly offered to give me a job as the office junior at the firm he owned. As he lived and worked far away, it had been agreed that I would live with him.

The following Sunday I got the 2 hour train to my uncle's, where he met me at the station.

My uncle was quite a traditional man - he had a fully, neatly trimmed beard, fairly short coiffured hair, and generally wore tweed jackets and cardigans, and was seldom seen without a tie, and loved to smoke a pipe. He was a serious man, and definitely not one to have a joke - he could also have something of a short fuse, and could be a man of few words. Despite this, we had a good chat, and he seemed genuinely pleased that I was going to be working for him - he said that he felt I had great potential, and that he was sure I would do well - I just needed to follow his instruction and do my best.

I knew my uncle would want me to be fairly smart for the office, so I'd brought my old school trousers and shirts to wear in the week. I mentioned this to him, and he said we'd sort everything in the morning.

I settled into the spare room, which was a big, comfortable room with a double bed, chest of drawers, TV and big wardrobe which was currently half full of all sorts of stuff, such as an old computer, boxes of paperwork and some old clothes.

Monday morning came, and when I got out of the shower and there was a multi-packet of briefs and white vests on my bed. My uncle passed my room and said to put on the underwear and then he would be back - I explained I already had underwear that was fine to wear, but he said it made sense that I wore what he had got for me as it was new, and could I just do it please.

I did as he asked, to save starting off on the wrong foot, and then my uncle came in "Right, we'd better get you ready for your first day at work! Are you excited?" I assured him I was, and was ready to get stuck in. He said he had sorted some clothes for me to wear, but I reminded him that I had already brought some trousers and white shirts with me. "Oh no, you don't want to be wearing your school uniform! You're an adult now, so it's only right that you look the part. Now, I've looked out some clothes I don't use that will be perfect, given that we're a similar size - and you're welcome to keep them." I said I could buy anything that I needed, but he said that wasn't necessary, and I should save my money, and he was only too happy for me to make full use of these things that had just sat in his wardrobe. This was clearly an instruction rather than an offer.

I looked at what my uncle was wearing - a pair of bluey-grey wool trousers and a pale grey check shirt, with a dark grey tie with cream stripes through it - he always looked a very washed out, as he generally only wore shades of grey or bluey-grey, with only his brown shoes adding any colour, and everything always looked very old fashioned. I could only hope that the clothes he was offering had been rejected by him for being too casual or colourful.

He went over to the dresser and opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of chocolate brown socks which he passed to me. I looked a bit confused. "Put them on" he said - I genuinely hadn't understood, as I could believe that anyone would think that a 16 year old boy would wear brown. I slipped the socks on, and he instructed me to pull them up. I did so. He then went to the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt that was very similar to his - a cream colour with a check running through it. I buttoned it up. It seemed very baggy and long in the body, but my uncle assured me that was the style. Next, he pulled out the most horrible pair of flannel trousers. They were a mid-brown colour, made with thick wool and tailored loosely - again, I said I'd just wear my own trousers, but this time he was clear "put them on." I grudgingly took the trousers from him. They were very rough texture and surprisingly heavy. I slipped them on and as I pulled them up my legs I could feel the coarse material rubbing against my leg. It felt horrible. I pulled them up and on buttoning them up I found they fitted my waist perfectly. The twin pleats meant there was extra fabric which then made for a wider trouser than the normally skinny jeans I'd normally wear. Sharp creases ran down the middle of each leg and then a turnup at the bottom gave extra weight which anchored the trousers which then hid part of my foot, due to being wider than I was used to.

I was then told to do up my top button. I did so but it was really tight! I was then passed a brown tie with beige stripes. I tied it and my uncle then clipped on a solid tie bar about a third of the way down which attached to the shirt - very similar to one he was wearing. "You'll always want to wear one of these as it stops your tie getting in the way"

"Now, shoes," he said digging into the bottom of the wardrobe. "I bought this pair but they were too big for me, so I bought another pair in the size smaller, so I'm thinking these will fit you perfectly. He then presented a pair of highly polished tan brogues. They were covered in intricate stitching and decorative small holes in the leather and with a row of very fine laces running up the middle. I recognised them. They were identical to the pair my uncle was wearing. I said something about hard leather not being good for my feet, but he assured me I would soon get used to them. He pushed them onto my feet and then tied the laces tightly. What between the collar cutting into my neck and now the shoes restricting my ancles, I was not feeling so good, and that was before the horror of the suggestion of having to wear this outfit out of the house!

My uncle had one last surprise up his sleeve, as he showed me a tweed blazer in a light tan colour, wide lapels, and a longer, boxy fit. it was again heavy and felt too big. My uncle did up the top button of the two on the front and declared it perfect. I was then shepherded downstairs to be paraded in front of my aunt, who declared me to look very handsome, and that the colours really suited me.

My uncle explained that he had tried wearing shades of brown for a short time, but he felt grey suited him better, so he relegated those clothes to the back of his wardrobe. I thought back to when I'd looked in the wardrobe and the various being brown, fawn, cream colours in the wardrobe - it now dawned on me that these weren't just random clothes that had been put there for storage....

There was a big mirror in the hallway, and I stopped to stare. I looked ridiculous. If you chopped my head off you'd think I was a middle-aged man (or older!) as no-one under 50 would wear any of these clothes, or in any of these colours. And this look definitely didn't suit me, and nor did it go with my lovely hair which flowed freely to just below my shoulders and with the gently tussled look that I had perfected after getting out of the shower. At least my hair was there to express my personality.

"Right, will we go then?" my uncle said. I nodded grudgingly. He opened the front door and gestured for me to walk in front of him to head to the car on the drive. I took one step 'clack.' And another 'clack.' I then walked closer to the car 'clack. clack. clack.' I lifted one of my feet and looked at the sole, fitted with metal plates. I then remembered you can also hear my uncle coming a mile off. I'm used to it now, but it always used to take me by surprise, as, on any hard surface you would hear his shoes clacking as he walked. People would look up and stare. Now this was me too. Though, to be honest people would stare anyway given what a 16 year old boy was wearing, but this would mean they'd get an audible alert.

We travelled in silence to the office. I was reflecting to the last half hour. It was really bad. the only saving grace was there was no-one I knew was there to see me.

We arrived. I got out the car. I took a couple of steps, still trying to get used to both the slippery soles of my shoes and the noise they made. My uncle strided off towards the door. I followed him into the office, both off us clattering down the polished wood floors in our polished brogue shoes. Everyone instinctively looked up. With that racket, who could blame them, and also I guess in heralded the arrival of the boss. Many pairs of eyeballs stared at me.

We reached the corner and he pointed to a desk as part of a group of 4 "this is yours, take a seat" now this is Sally, Daniel and Mark. And this is Alexander" I said hi to each of them. Sally was probably 60 and I knew to be my uncles secretary. Daniel was around my uncles age and I found out was office manager, while Mark was a graduate who had joined the firm the previous summer.

"Make yourself comfortable, and we'll talk through your induction shortly" I sat down, and Mark sat next to me did a bit of small talk, and we got onto the fact I'd just left school. "was it public school? by any chance?" Mark asked. I said no and asked why he'd said that. "Well, it's just based on your outfit, I can only imagine that someone from public school might have clobber like that!" I explained that my uncle had had a guiding hand in the outfit. "Ahh, that explains it - I'm surprised you got away with that hair in that case" I queried this "well he made me get my hair cut shorter because he said it looked too messy." I looked at Mark's hair it wasn't long but it just about reached the collar of the shirt he was wearing, and just above his eyebrows, brushed to the side. He looked a bit surfer-like. "I love my hair, so there's no way I'm cutting it" I said.

The morning went quite quickly. Everyone was friendly. I took my jacket off as soon as I could, as all the other men were just wearing open shirts, so I felt over dressed (as well as being downed in a sea of turd-coloured clothing).

It got to 12.30 and my uncle said "right, grab your jacket, we're going out." I grabbed it and clicked along behind him. He turned round "well put your jacket on then" which I did while trying to keep up with him as we headed to the car.

We parked up and headed to an open doorway, and I found myself in a barbershop. My uncle had a few words of greeting and then pointed to me "This is Alexander. He needs smartening up, as we discussed" I was told to take my jacket off and sit straight in the chair.

I said I just wanted a light trim, as I was being caped up, but the barber patted me on the shoulder and told me to just relax, as my uncle had already sorted everything.

My hair was about a maximum of about 10 inches long at the front, and maybe 4 or 5 inches at the back - it was all swept back in quite a loose, bohemian style that I loved. I really didn't want to loose that style.

Before I could say another word the barber had his clippers in his hand and with a comb he was pulling out my hair from the side of my head about an inch or so and then cutting off the remaining hair. Massive long stands of hair were falling to the ground. This was years' of growth. "I really want to keep the length on top" I blurted out. The barber just smiled vaguely. This combing and clipping continued round the back and to the other side of my head, so that the hair on the sides was now drastically shorter, though still a little bit shaggy, and just nestled on the top of my ears. It was already way shorter than I would like. He then started on the top though this time leaving maybe 3-4 inches of length. I was devastated. He then dragged the comb down my head causing a slight pain on my head, and leaving a very precise parting down the left side of my head, as he combed the hair carefully to each side.

This done, he now turned back to the sides and using his comb, he now angled it downwards and swiped more hair off the side of my head. This time about half an inch of hair fell, and I could soon see that he was leaving shorter hair of only about an eighth of an inch at the bottom and blending upwards to maybe half an inch higher up, and progressing round my head once more. He then took a smaller razor and went round my ears and then also cut a line across the top of my sideburns, and I could feel him carving a line across the back of my head.

On the side of the brand new part he then continued with clipper and comb taking the length of all of the hair to the part line progressively longer, but the maximum length still only being about three quarters of an inch. Then across the top of my head he did some snipping with the scissors but with only very small specks of hair flying off. He then went around the upper sides blending the shorter sides with the longer length. This was all looking very short.

Finally, he then brushed down the long hair at the front and cut across my forehead at a diagonal, leaving long hair by the part which hung just above my eyebrow and finishing near the top of my head on the right side of my face.

Suddenly the chair was tilted back and shaving foam slapped on my face. My little facial hair was quickly removed, and I could feel him shaving off my entire sideburns. On being returned upright, I could see that my face looked very pale following the removal of my attempts at facial hair - while the hair on my head made me look like some sort of preppy American Highschooler with the side part hanging loosely over my forehead. The barber took some gel in his hands and ran it through my hair working outwards from the part line. He then took the hair at the front of my head and flicked it upwards and to the side creating a small ridge.

"Done" he announced proudly. My uncle stood up "excellent, now Alexander looks like a man you'd be proud to walk beside. Excellent work."

The barber showed me the back, which was a short blocked taper, where less than an hour before had been my beautiful mane. My neck was so pale! I saw what was a very standard business man's haircut. I guess it's exactly what my uncle would choose. In fact, it was just a shorter version of his haircut really. We definitely had matching side partings now. It was too grim for words. But he was the boss.

Back at the office, I felt even more embarrassment and we both clacked through the office, and me - not just a vision in brown, but now with my short business man's haircut. On sitting down, Mark whistled "that's some haircut you got there. Thought there was no way you were cutting it?" "Well my uncle made me realise that shorter hair is easier to manage when you've got a job." Neither of us bought that - it was blatantly obvious from the style of what was on my head that only one person had had any input into my new conservative haircut, and my new outfit, and it wasn't me.

Back at the house, my aunt was thrilled with my cut, and said how I looked like my uncle when he was younger!

I took my jacket off and sat down. I undid my top button, and started untying my shoes as my uncle jumped in - "we don't take out ties or shoes off until we retire to bed", he admonished me. I grudgingly re-tied.

"Now, I've a treat for you - as a working man, you deserve a treat, and I'd like you to join me in a pipe." Now, he smoked regularly, but I had no interested - and in fact, I hated even the smell. I'd never smoked, and didn't want to. I politely declined.

He opened his drawer next to his seat and took out two pipes. One was newly boxed, he passed that one to me. I unwrapped it. He showed me how to roll tobacco and pack a pipe. He gave me a tobacco pouch, and lighter. Mine to keep he said. He then lit my pipe for me and put it in my mouth "now breath it" I tried not to breath in much, but even the little I did made me cough. "and again" I tried and coughed more. We continued this for about 20 minutes until the nicotine was making me feel faint. It certainly wasn't a treat.

By the end of week one I was hating it. The daily outfit remained identical, other than alternating between tweed blazers, shirts and ties, all in earthy shades. And he kept making me persevere with the pipe. I was coughing less but really didn't like it, and I now stank of tobacco.

I'd been getting on well with Mark - I think he felt sorry for me, and invited me out on Saturday with my mates. My uncle was happy to agree. I explained I'd like to wear my own clothes, but my uncle couldn't understand it - if you have good quality smart clothes available, why would you want to wear lesser clothes. And also all my old clothes had mysteriously disappeared. This wasn't a new work wardrobe. This was my only wardrobe.

Mark smirked when I entered the pub - "do you ever not dress like a grandad" he said.

We had a company away day which included some drinks afterwards. A couple of the guys said they were going for a cigarette, and my uncle said we'd join them. He got his pipe out and nodded to me. I shook my head, but he gave me THE look. I grudgingly got my pipe out. We lit up. Mark looked at me with disbelief. I could understand it. Here I was dressed in brown tweed, with the geekiest haircut and smoking a pipe. I was a lost cause.

#Nerdification #forced makeover #tf story #nerd #geek

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strniohoeee · 6 months

Text

Vain

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader *friendship*

Synopsis: Y/N is stuck in a toxic relationship, and when they break up. She runs to Chris for his advice🥹

Warnings⚠️: Talks of a toxic relationship, trauma, mentions of a hand being raised at readers face

Song for the imagine: Conceited- Lola Young (this song is fucking good literally LISTENNN)

Told me that you loved me, you're just talking to yourself

I don't wanna know, I don't wanna hear it

Let yourself out, you're so conceited

365 days….365 days trapped, hurt and angry. I was angry because I was trapped. Trapped in this god awful toxic relationship. With a “man” who did not care. He could care less if I lied there bleeding in front of his eyes. He’d probably laugh in my face and walk over me. This I knew, and I hated myself everyday for staying with him because I loved him.

How could I love someone as crazy and deranged as him? That I’m not sure of, but when you fall for someone you fall for it all. The imperfections and the beauties. But he…he had too many imperfections. Ones that would bleed into our relationship tainting it.

Him and I started off strong. He was amazing to me, he did it all. I truly felt like a princess when I was with him. He got along with my friends, my family, just everyone in my life. I thought I would eventually marry the guy. But here I am hurt and alone.

About 7 months into our relationship something in him flipped, and to this day I can not understand what happened to him. He wouldn’t talk to me, or explain anything it always ended up in him lashing out.

“Baby…I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I’m here for you” I would tell him

“I don’t need you here for me. Go away” he would tell me

“How can we be in a relationship when you won’t even communicate” I told him

“Shut your fucking mouth” he’d warn

“I don’t know why you resent me so much. If you’re not happy we can break up” I would say softly

“Break up? You’re nothing without me. You need me, you can not live without me.” He would say scoffing

That’s how most of our arguments went. He’d call me useless, pathetic, no good, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’d have no one on my side if I broke up with him, he’d turn everyone against me. Every horrible thing you can think of, he has said to me.

And like an idiot I stayed. I stayed because I was scared. Scared that he’d truly truly hurt me. Sometimes when we argued and he’d get close to me there would be this twinkle in his eye. A twinkle of malice like he’d actually put his hands on me. Fear controls every aspect of life, more than you’d think.

The only person I felt comfortable going to was Chris and his brothers for help. Often they’d tell me to just dump him and come stay with them, and that they’d keep me safe. However I could never bring myself to do it. I was scared.

Chris and I had grown really close a few months back. I would even consider him my best friend. I told him everything, and when things would get bad and I would have a panic attack it was Chris who was there to calm me down. At first * Y/N boyfriends name* didn’t really care that I was friends with Chris up until things started to get really really bad.

He’d check my phone whenever he wanted, read my messages, go through my DM’s, look at my call history. He’d watch my location constantly asking where I’m going. I was his prey. He wouldn’t leave me alone and he knew it scared me, but that was something he loved

When he would go to work I’d call Chris and catch him up on everything, and then had to beg him to not text or call me, or initiate any contact until I did.

For our one year anniversary last week we didn’t do a thing. He even acted like he forgot, and when I mentioned it he flipped out. Telling me that I’m a piece of shit, and that I didn’t deserve a single thing. But I never wanted anything, I just wanted my boyfriend back.

Today he was at work, and I wanted to be nice and make him some dinner, turn on some music, and just try and have a good night with him.

When he got home I could immediately tell he was not happy, and that this night would end in another fight

“The fuck you doing” he said walking into the kitchen

“Uhhh hi to you too, i was making you dinner” I said giving him a smile

“I’m not eating that shit” he said opening the pot and throwing the lid down on the stove, causing me to jump a little bit

I paused for a moment contemplating how I would go about my next comment

“What the fuck have I ever done to you?” I asked him finally looking at him

“You haven’t done shit for me. You’re nothing, you’re a nobody” he said

“What’s your problem with me? You used to be so sweet and loving, and now you’re just angry and mean” I said back

“You ain’t nothing to me” he spit like venom

“So then leave me” I told him getting angry

“Ha! Leave you. You couldn’t survive a single day without me. You need me. I’m all you have” he shot back

“Not true at all” I spat back

“Don’t fucking speak to me like that” he said walking a little closer

“Speak to you how? I’m talking to you like a normal adult. You’re acting like a child” I told him

“I should fucking spit on you” he said with a smug face

“You’re a fucking psycho. You’re crazy” I told him shaking my head

“Walk away then! Go LEAVE!” He yelled the last part

“Make up your mind! Want me to go or want me to stay” I said rolling my eyes at him

“I could give a shit what you do. I know you’ll be crawling back” he said crossing his arms

“You’re so full of yourself. I don’t need you” I spat back at him

“Yeah you fucking do” he said now standing infront of me

“NO I FUCKING DONT” I yelled at him

“DONT RAISE YOUR FUCKING VOICE LITTLE GIRL” he yelled back

“LITLE GIRL?” I questioned yelling back

“YEAH LITTLE FUCKING GIRL. GO BOOHOO CRY TO YOUR FRIENDS…..oh wait you don’t have any” he said laughing

“FUCK YOU” I screamed in his face, and immediately he raised his hand and I flinched and stepped back. Utter shock on my face

“Did you just try and hit me?” i asked started to walk away from him

I ran and grabbed my purse, phone and car keys. Walking to the front door

“You’re not going anywhere” he said following me

“I am! YOU DONT OWN ME! I'M LEAVING AND I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN. YOURE A FUCKING LUNATIC WE ARE DONE” I yelled at him, swinging the door open and running out and to my car

Once in my car. I started to drive to the triplets house. As he kept calling and texting non stop but I kept ignoring him.

I got to the triplets house, and once I rang the doorbell Chris came down and was shocked to see me

“Hey! What are you doing here?? Are you okay?” He asked reading my face in worry

“I broke up with him” I said as he let me into the house

“What happened??” Chris asked as we went down to his room

“He’s a fucking psycho” I said pacing his room back and forth

“Go on” Chris said

“I make dinner for him trying to be nice, and he comes home all nasty and rude and starts fighting with me calling me all types of names and that I’m nothing without him” I told Chris still pacing the room shaking with anxiety

“And then”…my voice “he fucking raised his hand like he was going to hit me” I said finally stopping

“Did he hit you?” Chris asked in disbelief

“No he didn’t. I walked out before he could do anything” I said

“Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry! You don’t deserve this, and he doesn’t deserve you” Chris said

“God! What the fuck is wrong with me. How could I stay with someone like this for so fucking long. A fucking maniac” I said finally breaking down and crying, and Chris comes running over to grab me and bring me back to his bed

“Hey! Don’t beat yourself up for someone like him. Kids got a lot of fucking problems, but this isn’t your fault” Chris said rubbing my back

“I fucking love him. I will always love that kid, and no matter how shittt he treats me. My chest hurts from how much I love him” I said sobbing

“You can love him, that's normal. But you can’t beat yourself up for how you feel!” Chris told me

“I know but I’m just so fucking stupid for staying with him. No matter how many time you told me to leave him, and so I just didn’t” I said still sobbing

“Listen he’s a horrible person, and yes you should’ve left him a long time ago, but it’s your life and you will do what’s best for you” he told me

“I don’t wanna feel this pain anymore. I don’t know who I am. He completely ruined me” I said to Chris

“It’s going to hurt. It’s going to fucking suck, but you need to hurt and cry and feel pain in order for you to heal. So allow yourself those emotions, and you will see with time it will get better. You don’t need him. You never did need him, you’re a strong independent woman, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. Got it?” Chris said

“Yes. Thank you Chris I love you so much. You have no idea how grateful I am to have someone like you in my life” I responded wiping my eyes

“Kid I love you so fucking much. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to see you hurting or crying, especially over some loser like him. You deserve better…way better” Chris said pulling me in for a hug

“Thank you Chris” I said hugging him back

“There’s plenty of other guys who will truly care for you, and treat you like the beautiful queen you are” he said kissing my head

“You’re right” I said pulling away from the hug to wipe my eyes one more time

“Who knows?? Maybe I’m that guy” Chris said wiggling his brows

I started to laugh “yeah maybe. Who knows” I said giving him a smile

“There’s that beautiful smile of yours” he said smiling back

“I love you Chris”

“I love you too Y/N”

The End

Hope yall like this one too. I’m like ehhh about this, but I liked the idea. I’ll be posting the Matt cabin in the woods, and poignant part 2 tonight, but for rn IMA TAKE A NAP CAUSE A BITCH IS TIREDDD

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #Spotify

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maknaeswrld · 5 months

Text

heartbreak is a part of life | l.mh

wc: 1.2k

genre: ANGST; best friends to strangers; multi POV??

cw: literally no happy ending (for reader); talks of marriage; depression; sad cereal; angst; let me knows if I missed anything

part one: when you loved me

You stayed in your room, hiding under your blankets. You had turned your phone off after several concerned texts from Jun, you didn’t want anything that reminded you of highschool, with the only exception being the jacket you cocooned yourself in.

Your stomach growled its displeasures with you, but you still didn’t move until the hunger pains hit.

Slowly pulling the covers away from yourself, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled your way to the kitchen. You heard hushed whispers before you even got out of the hall, and they shut up quick when they heard you coming.

You ignored your roommates in your kitchen as you shuffled to the cabinet and grabbed a box of your favorite cereal and poured yourself a large bowl. You shuffled back by them after pouring your milk and headed back to your room.

“Shit, that's her sad cereal and her comfort jacket. It’s really bad.” You heard Nat whisper from behind you.

You sat at your desk and slowly ate your cereal. It was soggy and gross by the time you finished it and your stomach was upset. You knew you should've eaten something more substantial than a sugar filled childrens breakfast, but nothing else sounded even slightly appetizing and adding throwing up to the list of things gone wrong in the past twenty-four hours was not something you wanted to do.

You fell into a horrible routine, you were sluggish and zombie-like, half hearted with everything you did, and exhausted. You hadn’t slept well in weeks and even your co-workers were starting to notice.

You had never gone through depression before, but you didn’t need to go to a doctor to acknowledge that was what was going on with you.

One day, you came home from work early, hoping to soak in a nice long bath and hide out for a while, instead you opened your door to the sound of voices filtering in from the kitchen. They didn't notice you and you thought maybe you could sneak past the doorway without drawing attention to yourself but froze when you heard his name.

“We can’t tell her, she’s barely starting to pick back up, it’ll shatter her world.”

“She’s strong, she’ll get through it, but Minho’s engagement will be plastered everywhere before the end of the day. I just think it’ll be better hearing the news from us rather than a random magazine dealer on her way home from work.”

You knew you weren’t meant to hear this conversation, and you definitely didn’t want to, but even with tears in your eyes and your already fragile heart shattering into pieces, you silently leaned against the wall and listened.

“She’s been through hell, Jun. I have never seen her so torn up. If we tell her, I have no idea how she’ll take it. She just found out she’s in love with her high school best friend and has been for years, the last thing she needs is to find out he’s getting married.”

“We can’t just hide something like this from her forever, Lia. Min wants to invite her to the wedding. She has a right to know.”

You heard your roommate blow out a breath of frustration, you could picture her rubbing her cheekbones under her eyes like she usually does when she's stressed about something.

You didn’t want to hear any more. No longer caring about being unnoticed, you dashed by the kitchen, head tilted down to hide the tears blooming in your eyes. You ran to your room, ignoring the sounds of surprise and calls of your name.

You locked your door and leaned back against it. You ignored Lia pounding on your door and calling out to you, you didn’t pay any mind to Jun’s usually calm voice breaking with concern, all you could do was stand in shock as you processed what you had heard them saying, tears staining your face.

You moved like a ghost as you walked to your desk. You continued to ignore your friends as you pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. In an unsteady sprawl, you wrote out seven simple words, folded up the paper, and stuck it in the small hidden pocket on the inside of the jacket that you had treasured for so long.

You calmed your breathing and gently folded up the jacket. Opening the door, you came face to face with your two worried friends. As they both looked you over, they noticed the jacket at the same time, Lia confused as to why you were holding your comfort jacket instead of wearing it, and Jun wondering how the hell you still had one of the dance team's jackets after all these years.

Your voice was unsteadier than you were hoping it’d be as you held the treasure out towards Jun.

“Can you give this to him and tell him congratulations for me? And sorry that I won’t be able to make it to his wedding?”

Jun took the jacket hesitantly, looking to Lia first as if asking for permission. Once it was in his hands you gave them a shaky smile and nodded before walking back over and crawling into your bed. You would’ve shut the door, but knew Lia, and your other roommates when they got home, would feel a little bit better if they could peek in every now and again to make sure you were alright.

Jun left a while later, the jacket feeling heavy on his arm.

He arrived at the company building twenty minutes late for practice and slightly out of breath. He said a quiet hello to the lady at the front desk as he rushed to the practice room. Minho noticed him the second he walked through the doors, pausing the song he was teaching and calling for a water break before walking over to his friend.

“Where have you been? I didn’t think you were gonna make it.” Minho said, voice grumpy but eyes concerned as he looked his friend over, quickly taking notice of the jacket. “Is that..?”

Jun hesitated but held it out to him. “Y/n says congratulations, also she is sad to say she won’t be able to attend the wedding.” Minho looked at the jacket. He knew exactly which jacket it was. He hadn’t thought about it, or the note he had left in it, for a while. He always got sad when he thought about her. He assumed she found the note and got weirded out, which led to her never contacting him again. Sometimes he wondered how things could have been if he wasn’t such a coward in high school, but he couldn’t complain too much. He had his dream job, his gorgeous financée whom he loved dearly, and most of all he did it by the sides of some of his best friends in the whole world.

Even so, the what ifs flash by every now and again.

A sudden curiosity flooded him as he wondered if you ever even found the note. It was entirely possible it was still in the pocket. He ignored the fact that the jacket was completely covered in your scent, one that hadn’t changed even after all these years, and unzipped the pocket.

He noticed there was a note, but not his. This one looked clean, as if it was newly placed there. He pulled it out and unfolded it, reading the words that were written there in your gorgeous, steady handwriting.

“Thank you for when you loved me.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading, feedback is always always appreciated🫶🫶

Alternate Ending: love is worth the wait

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #lee know #skz fanfic #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee minho #lee know fanfic

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fuji-mango · 1 month

Text

"Change will change you." -Nick ⁉️

Nick x Reader BSF (Male)

SYNOPSIS - Nick's been your best friend since you were kids, but for the past month, he's been ignoring you. He won't answer texts, won't return your calls. Life's been hell since he went MIA, so you decide to finally try and start pulling yourself together.

Note: My first story... be nice pls...

Word Count: 2351

WARNINGS: Burnout, Depression

Y/n’s POV

I remember when I thought that scraping my knee or falling off my bike was the most painful thing in the world, but I know now that I was very wrong. What hurts more than anything in the world, is feeling truly alone. Like you’ve been cast out to sea, and all you have is the whispers in the back of your head to stay sane.

All I can manage to do is lie in bed all day, wasting away while the world around me carries on. The sound of rain outside pelting the window only adds to the hollowness that I’m feeling. Everything felt like it was falling apart, I was being ghosted by my closest friend, everyone else moved away to college early, and doing any small thing felt like the most exhausting task in the world. Not to mention that my parents were currently several states away for work.

And as I was contemplating my depressing thoughts, I felt a slight vibration from my phone that was somewhere under my comforter. I sat up and rummaged around my bed in the dark searching for my phone. Eventually I found it and unlocked it immediately, being blinded by the screen as I did so. I scrolled through my notifications and instead of finding a new message from Nick, I found that my health app was reminding me to drink water. I wasn’t going to.

I opened my messages and I immediately saw the words I dreaded seeing beside Nick’s contact. “Read”.

I’ve been left on read again... 63 messages in the past month, and Nick hasn’t replied to any of them. I don’t even know why I feel surprised, I knew what the outcome was even before I sent it.

Nick, do you wanna hangout on Friday? (2:37 Pm 7/23) Read

…

Hey, I haven’t heard from you in awhile, how are you? (3:13 Pm 7/30) Read

…

Nick, I’m worried about you, please msg me. (12:04 Am 8/12) Read

…

Did I do something wrong? (9:13 Am 8/18) Read

…

Can you just tell me why you won’t respond? (8:15 Pm Yesterday) Read

I laughed a bit as I scrolled through our messages again. I knew he was busy with his career, that it was important to him. I just never thought that I would be thrown away for it.

Nick was my best friend. We grew up together, we watched each other go from things like dinosaur phases to graduating highschool. It feels like a part of my life is missing without him, but I can’t let it get me down forever.

I know that it’s raining, but I could go outside. I need some fresh air.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Nick’s POV

It was raining outside when Y/n texted me, it feels like forever since I’ve seen him. Part of me feels guilty for not reaching out, but the other half feels like it would shatter if I saw him again. I walked outside towards the van joining my brothers, trying hard to ignore those lingering thoughts.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n’s POV

I just let myself walk, taking random turns every now and then. The slight drizzle and breeze wasn’t horrible, but still annoying nonetheless. It just feels like everything distant… Like I’m watching everythings happen from an outside perspective. The dozens of cars driving by, people waiting at the bus stop, groups of friends walking around together… The world seems so alive, and yet I was just a bystander to everything that was going on.

It was exhausting. The mental strain, the emptiness that always followed… I was tired of it all. I just wanted to feel normal again, but how could I do that when a part of my life feels like it was ripped apart.

Eventually I ended up at one of my favourite places to hangout, at least I used to. I don’t even know when or how I got here. I thought that I was taking a random route, but maybe I subconsciously brought myself here. Kelly’s Diner, the place where Nick and I used to spend hours just talking to each other, laughing obnoxiously as the hours drifted by, up until they were closing.

I wanted to go inside, to try and find some happiness here again, but some part of me told me it wasn’t worth it. But I ignored that feeling and went inside anyway, being greeted by the pink and green detailed interior. It seemed foreign to me, despite all the times that I’ve been here. I walked up to the counter, sitting on the cushioned bar stools that were still as uncomfortable as I remembered.

One of the workers made their way over to where I was sitting after dealing with a table around the corner. It was Spencer, a guy from school, but I mainly knew him from all the times that I came here with Nick. He always got annoyed whenever we got too loud and bothered everyone else in the diner.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile.” Spencer said, his usual tired face telling me all I needed to know.

“Long shift?” I asked him sarcastically.

“Yeah, works been a bitch lately, how bout you?”

“It’s been going.” I said, stretching my arms over my head. “Can I just get a chocolate ice cream frappe?”

“No fries or anything” Spencer clarified, to which I gave him a quick nod. “Alright, I’ll get that to you in a bit.” and with that he walked into the kitchen, coming out moments later to give food to the table he was at earlier.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Nick’s POV

Hanging out with Matt and Chris was always fun, but it was also a great distraction. I always hated when things were out of my control… hated how I felt insecure when I started to fall apart. Hated how all I could ever do was run away from the problem instead of facing them. And here I am, trying to suppress the sorrows by smiling and laughing with my brothers.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n’s POV

After a couple minutes, Spencer finally made his way over to me, my drink in hand.

“One chocolate ice cream frappe for my favourite customer.” He said, setting down the drink in front of me.

“Thanks” is all I managed to let out.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” and with that, Spencer walked off to start wiping down some tables.

All I did was stare at the frappe for a bit, reminiscing on the past. When Nick and I came here, I’d always ordered the chocolate one, and he’d always get vanilla. It felt strange only seeing one of them on the counter, but I was starting to feel less bothered by it the longer I stared. When I finally did take a sip, a wave of warmth enveloped my body.

It tasted just how I remembered, maybe a bit better actually. And it was at that moment that I knew I was going to be okay. When life realigned for a second to let me catch my breath. I’d kept myself stuck in place, and now I was finally moving on my own again, no external force driving me forward. Just me, and I’m going to have to accept that fact.

The fact that Nick wouldn’t always be there anymore. I mean, I did miss him and all, he was my ride or die… and sometimes it felt like he was just around the corner. And as I thought about these stupid ideas, I heard his laugh. His obnoxiously perfect laugh.

He was here, Nick was actually here. It was the most relieving yet horrifying thing I’ve ever experienced. I set down a ten dollar tip on the counter and got up from my chair, slowly walking towards the source of the sound. My legs felt heavier with every step that got me closer, until I made it to the corner and finally I saw him. And there he was, smiling and laughing with Matt and Chris, a vanilla frappe in hand.

I pulled up my phone and started to text Nick. One last attempt before I walk away from all of this.

I miss you. (6:27 Pm Today) Sent

And I watched as he picked up the phone, and set it down just as fast. Leaving those four letters on my screen once again. “Read”. And in that moment, I didn’t care anymore, how could I care anymore. I was so fucking tired of caring. Tired of spending all my time and energy on this. I stood up from my chair, making a loud squeaking from its legs scratching on the floor. All I could think about was getting out of here as fast as I could.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Nick’s POV

A loud sound from behind me took my attention away from the conversation that me and Chris were having, and I turned to see Y/n. He didn’t look like his usual self though. His hair was messily done, which wasn’t like him at all, and his clothes were slightly wet from the rain outside. He hates the rain.

By the time he was out the door, I found myself getting up abruptly and following after him. I heard Chris and Matt yelling something at me but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Y/n looked like he was in shambles, and it was because of me. Because of how selfish I’ve been.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n’s POV

The rain was a lot worse than it was 20 minutes ago, going from a slight drizzle to a full on shower. I kept walking as fast as I could, trying to calm myself down. The tears on my face were blending in with the downpour. And I could hear Nick following behind me yelling my name.

“Y/N!” Nick yelled over the loud sound of rain, but I ignored it.

My walk sped up into a jog.

“Y/N!” He yelled again, but I still didn’t stop.

My jogging turned into running.

“Y/n just stop for a minute, please.” Nick pleaded, but I was being torn apart. Why now? Why after all this time? Nick didn’t bother to write a single text explaining anything and here he was running after me. He hates running.

I turned my head back to look at Nick but tripped over the uneven sidewalk. I managed to catch myself, scraping both my palms on the wet sidewalk, but it let Nick catch up to me.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, catching his breath and offering me a hand to help me up.

“I’m fine Nick.” I slapped his hand away and got back up, trying to leave once again, but he grabbed onto my wrist before I could. “Nick let me go.” I said, trying to escape his grasp. The tears were falling harder now.

“Y/n…”

“I said let me go Nick!” I yanked my hand away from him, turning around and continuing on my way.

“Just let me explai-”

“Explain what?” I hissed out, stopping for a moment before turning around and finally facing him. “Explain how you fucking abandoned me?” He took a step back. “Explain how you ghosted me for a whole month?” He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, so I kept on going. “Cause I want you to explain it Nick, I want you to fucking explain how you could throw me away like I was a piece of fucking trash.” My voice broke on the last few words, and I felt horrible yelling that at him, but part of me felt justified about it, which made me feel even worse.

“Y/n…” Nick started, struggling to find the right words. “What I did… it wasn’t okay. And I don’t know that you’ll ever forgive me.” He paused for a second to compose himself. I couldn’t tell if he was crying, or if it was the rain. “And it was selfish of me to do that. Selfish of me to just ignore you and not tell you why.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I yelled out, the frustration that I’ve been holding inside lashing out.

“Because I like you.” Nick said, which left me speechless. “I’ve liked you for so long and I know that you’ll never like me back that way, and it was so fucking hard watching you be so happy with other people while I watched from the sidelines. It was so hard waiting for myself to fall out of love with you because of how much I care about our friendship… but I can't take it anymore.”

“Nick… I…” I didn’t know what to say… didn’t know what to do.

“You don’t have to say anything Y/n, it’s fine.” Nick said, looking down at the ground. He looked as miserable as me.

“Nick…” I took a step forward and hugged him. “I don’t think I could ever like you that way... but you’ve been one of the most important things throughout my life.” I stopped for a second, pulling him out of the hug and looking at him face to face. “And if this is what you need to be happy... then it’s okay... I understand.” I took a deep breath in. “But I want you to know this... You’ve been one of the best things in my life, and you always will be.” and with that, turned around and walked away.

It’s taken a lot of time to accept this change, and at first, I really didn’t want to. Sure it still kinda hurt to think about, but as I looked down at my scraped palms, I knew I could get past this too. I looked back at Nick one last time to see Matt and Chris finally reunite with him, and for the first time in a long time, I smiled.

#sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader

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