#like broken glass maybe but i decided against it

[frostbite-the-bat]

The arcade's empty, I think it's Christmas Eve...

(SPEEDPAINT)

[lovebugism]

hi bug! can I please request the dialogue prompt “Hold up, she said what?” with steve and shy!reader? maybe she is robin’s friend and robin tells steve something reader said (maybe that she thinks steve is cute or nice or something of the sort), and it leads to a cute conversation between the two?

ty for requesting angel!! — steve finds out the cute girl at the record store likes him and decides to bring her ice cream as a proclamation of love (shy!fem!reader, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, 2.3k)

blurbcember ⋆⁺₊⋆ ❄ ⁺₊⋆ ❄

“Wait, wait, wait,” Steve interjects suddenly, a metal scoop in his hand and a wild look in his eye. “She said what?”

Robin fumbles with the metal tub of Peppermint-Chip ice cream she’s refilling. It clangs when she drops it into place with haphazard care. The shop goes unusually silent without her rambling to fill the dead air. Holly, Jolly Christmas crackles quietly from the broken speakers overhead.

The girl blinks at him with a wide ocean gaze. Her rogue-tinted mouth falls softly agape. She knows she’s said the wrong thing, but she can’t remember what.

“...Huh?”

“What’d you just say?”

Her doe eyes flit to the left for a moment. It takes her a second or more to recall the words she’d only just said. She does this thing sometimes where she rambles on and on about nothing, and Steve was the first person in the whole world to let her. So it’s way too easy for her to tell him a billion things at once and forget about all of them a second later.

“That the music store just got new cassettes in?” Robin answers, her gritty voice a few octaves higher than usual.

Steve nods slow and with a crooked grin that pulls at the corners of his mouth. He rests his elbow on the glass case above the ice cream and eggs her on. “After that?”

“…That you and the pretty new girl that works there have the same taste in music?”

“Before that.”

“That she said she wanted to show you the new tapes,” she says, wincing with the realization that she had, in fact, said the wrong thing. A secret she swore not to tell has just spilled from her lips without her even knowing it.

“And?” Steve lilts with a wider, rosier smile.

“Because she likes you…” Robin confesses (or rather, re-confesses) with her teeth gritted.

Even though Steve had heard her perfectly the first time, hearing it the second makes his heart skip a beat. The pulsing organ lurches into his throat. He almost forgets how to breathe.

“She likes me?” he repeats, mostly whispering, with an incredulous gape of shock. His bushy brows raise until his forehead wrinkles. His eyes go wide until the honey of them starts to glimmer.

Despite her best friend’s lovesick disposition, Robin’s freckled face hardens. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” she rumbles like a storm cloud, knocking her shoulder against his when she walks by him.

“Why?” Steve retorts like a child, following behind her just the same. 

He nearly bumps into her when she stops short at the deep freezer. She returns the cloth mits she carried the ice cream in with after spending her whole break organizing the case by color. Steve could never even be bothered to put the damn things back where they belonged in the first place.

“Because I swore to her I wouldn’t,” Robin agonizes, then whips around to face him again. Her features are twisted like a hurt puppy as she pleads. “Don’t tell her I said anything either, okay? She’ll hate me.”

Steve wasn’t planning on it. Not because he thought it might make you hate her, though. He’s not entirely sure you’re capable of that. 

He’s only known you for a few months — ever since the leaves started changing color and people traded their ice cream cones for cool music at the new record store. He spent half that time admiring you across the landing, but you’ve never been anything but gentle with him. You were soft, with a soul of sunshine. 

He didn’t know it was possible to be made of sunlight until he met you.

“Well, did you tell her I liked her back?” he presses, hoping Robin might’ve done some of the hard work for him.

Her face screws up like she’s tasted something sour. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I promised you I wouldn’t.”

Steve shoots her a deadpanned look.

Robin caves. 

“It’s not like I meant to tell you she liked you just now, okay? It just came out!” she explains, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Maybe next time I stick my foot in my mouth around the new girl, I’ll tell her that you’re obsessed with her, and the two of you can finally start dating instead of making sex eyes at each other all the time.”

He wouldn’t put that past her. Robin the Mastermind, Robin the Blabbermouth, Robin the Matchmaker. But his fluttering heart is pumping with too much adrenaline now. He feels like he could move mountains with the knowledge of your affections — knowing that all his own big, fuzzy, suffocating feelings have been reciprocated all this time.

If he doesn’t talk to you now, he’s scared he’ll never work up this kind of courage again.

“No. Screw that,” he concludes with a shake of his head. He’s in King Steve mode now — feeling half as suave as he used to back when the whole town was falling at his feet — chest puffed and ego reeling. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

Robin watches, dumbfounded, as he dumps a scoop of their best-selling ice cream into a paper bowl. Another tub she’ll have to refill. Steve ducks under the counter door and heads for the exit. “Wait— what am I supposed to do?” the girl shouts across the empty store.

Now out in the bustling Starcourt mall and taking short strides towards the music store, Steve spins on his heel to face her. He shrugs and readjusts the sailor’s cap on his head. “Wait for me to get back.”

—————

You’ve been banished to the back of the store.

Not exactly. But that’s what it feels like.

You got a bit too overwhelmed working the front counter, and since Eddie’s crazy soft on you, he let you put up all the Christmas decorations he’d been putting off instead. It’s a win-win situation, really. 

You’re stringing up sparkling tinsel over the rows of records when a deep blue sailor’s uniform catches your eye. Looking over your shoulder, you find Steve in all his glorysauntering towards you. He’s wearing shorts even though it’s basically winter now in Indiana. He’s beaming at you like sunshine anyway.

Beneath the amber glow of the dimly lit store, he looks borderline angelic. Almost unfairly ethereal.

“What’s that?” you wonder with a smile you don’t even know is there, nodding to the Scoops Ahoy brandedcup in his hand. 

You can almost smell the syrup-cinnamon concoction of the ice cream he holds in his palm. Or maybe that’s just Steve, and the sugary sweetness is radiating from his pores after working in a confectionary shop during the holidays.

He looks at you even sweeter.

“New flavor,” he answers vaguely, smirking as he leans against the metal shelves. He stumbles slightly when it rocks beneath his weight. “Oops. Sorry. It’s, uh— It’s pancake chunks with maple syrup swirl. I call it Wake and Bake.” 

A giggle tumbles from your lips when he hands it to you. “Eddie’s gonna love that,” you murmur.

“Well, it’s actually called Breakfast in Bed, but— I don’t know— I thought my idea was better.”

“Way better,” you concur with a nod and a pretty smile.

Steve watches with attentive honey eyes as you spoon a bite into your mouth. He feels a bit like it’ll be his fault if you hate it. His irrational need to impress you always makes him feel hopelessly inadequate. 

“Woah,” you hum without your mouth still a little full. The cream melts softly on your tongue, tasting of a sweet and early morning. “This is really good.”

His brows raise, and his eyes widen. “Yeah?” he wonders. Your words wash over him like a compliment for a reason he can’t name. It feels good to make you feel good.

“Mhmm. I might have to come by after work and buy the rest of it, actually,” you joke with a curt shrug. It’s a feeble confession — your way of telling him that you want to see him more because you could never say the real thing out loud.

Your heart sinks when Steve shakes his head. Then swells when he smiles.

“No way,” he scoffs, lips curling into a lopsided grin. “I’m not gonna let you pay for it— that’s crazy.”

“You can’t keep giving me free ice cream, Steve—”

“What my manager doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he lilts lowly and with a cool shrug that makes you melt. He goes very distinctly soft when he looks at you, all scruffy-faced and sweet-eyed. 

It’s suffocatingly beautiful. You crack under the pressure of it. 

“Well, uh— Thanks for the— ice cream,” you stammer and motion the bowl back to him. Thanks for stopping by and keeping me company, but you’re too pretty and I’m not sure how much longer I can take it, you don’t say.

“You don’t want the rest?” he asks with pinched brows.

“I just… should probably get back to work, you know?”

“Eddie doesn’t let you take breaks?”

“No, he does,” you answer quickly, shifting your weight on your feet. It becomes virtually impossible to meet his gaze. “Just not with…”

Steve’s brows raise when you trail off. “Not with me?” he finishes with a laugh.

“Well, not with the… pretty-boy-ice-cream-slinger in the sailor’s uniform,” you correct, then quickly follow. “His words. Not mine.”

In all honesty, Steve couldn’t care less about what Eddie Munson has to say about him. If Hawkins’s local freak is the only thing standing between him and the pretty girl at the music store, he’s down to break a couple of dumb rules.

He takes a small step towards you. His pink smirk widens. You swear your heart stops when he looks at you with it. “You don’t think I’m pretty?” he teases with a twinkle in his squinted eye.

Suddenly, there’s a frog in your throat and you’re fourteen all over again. You’re flustered and drowning and totally unsure of yourself. “I didn’t say that,” you mutter, gaze flittering and smile wavering.

Steve goes to rest his elbow on the shelf again, then remembers its unsteadiness and decides against it. His arm rests awkwardly in the air for half a moment before he crosses both of them over his chest. 

“Well, I mean, you didn’t not say it, so…”

You squint up at him, busying your clammy hands with the melting ice cream in your palm. You know what he’s fishing for. Your pride urges you to stay silent even though your heart sings the sweetest songs for him. 

“You know you’re pretty, Steve,” you murmur matter of factly.

“But do you think I’m pretty?”

Your thundering heart lurches into your throat when Steve takes another small step closer. He smells like wintertime — like Christmas and nostalgia and boy. You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, so you nod, slow and sheepish.

“Good,” he hums with a beam he couldn’t hide if he tried. “‘Cause I think you’re pretty, too.”

Your chest gets all sparkly at his admission — the affirmation that all your girlish feelings are being reciprocated by a boy you never dreamed you could have. You don’t feel hardly deserving of the fondness dripping from his features, but you pray he never stops looking at you with it.

You grow warm with the irrational hope that he might kiss you. You think he might actually kiss you until your boss’s voice pierces the golden bubble of puppy love the both of you are basking in.

“How’s the decorating going?” Eddie announces himself, appearing suddenly between the two aisles.

Robin idles at his side. She’s in the feminine version of Steve’s sailor outfit — with silver chains around her neck and bandaids on her knees. Effortlessly endearing and totally unaware of it all.

You push Steve away from you without thinking, all but shoving the softening ice cream into his chest. Some of it smears white against the scarlet tie around his chest. “Sorry!” you exclaim in your moment of fleeting panic, then turn to Eddie with the same apologetic wince. “Sorry…” you repeat quieter.

“Robin?” Steve gapes at the sight of his best friend — apparently the second thing standing in his way, right beside the freak. “What the hell are you doing here— did you tattle on me? What are you, four?”

“I got lonely,” the brunette answers plainly. “And I knew you were around here somewhere, so I asked Eddie where you were—” She waves a pale hand your way, fingers painted with chipping maroon polish.  “—And now I’m here.”

Eddie grins wide and tilts his wild head to his shoulder. “Yeah. Can’t believe you’re trying to taint my one good employee, Steven.”

“I’m not tainting anybody, Munson,” he bites back like a bickering brother, then screws up his face and turns to Robin. “Wait. If you’re here, who’s manning the counter?”

Her freckled face falls like a child caught in a fib. Her deep blue eyes widen when she blinks at him. In a mousier voice, she confesses, “Dustin came by… And I told him he could eat all the ice cream he wanted as long as he made sure no one stole anything.”

The four of you fall silent. The soft rock of Christmas Wrapping plays weakly from the radio at the front of the store. Eddie breaks first. ‘Cause he can’t ever be serious about anything. 

The boyish sound of his laughter sends a giggle sputtering from your lips. The pretty noise makes Steve smile despite his baffled disbelief.

He turns to you with a dumbfounded grin. “You’re still stopping by after work, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer softly, nodding as your smiling face grows hot.

Eddie scoffs when Steve walks by him. “If you still have a job by then.”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

45 / 1.9k / soap soulmate au, part 11

...

Mercenaries can be paid off for just about anything.

So when Price rings your cell phone to propose a trade—Laswell had your number, naturally—Horangi has no qualms with fishing it out of your pocket. You glare at him, but he doesn’t bother giving you anything more than a dry look before he answers it.

You hear Price’s voice from the speaker in Horangi’s ear. "Was wondering what was taking you lot so long."

Horangi sighs. It never ends, apparently. "What do you want?" he asks.

"Just to talk," Price replies. "What's your rate?"

"Come again?" Horangi asks.

"We're all soldiers here. Unfortunate that our mission came at the cost of yours, but we can all walk away happy, hm? I want to make sure you don’t go uncompensated. That’d be a shame."

Horangi scowls, but one of your squadmates in the back seat grips your shoulder and shifts his weight toward the phone in obvious interest.

"What do you have in mind?” Horangi asks.

"First, your rate."

"Too rich for your blood."

"Try me."

Horangi narrows his eyes. Then he shrugs and throws out a number. It's far more money than KorTac’s real fee, but before you can decide whether to say something, Price speaks again.

"We'll double that."

"Will you now?"

"I will. Even pay you all directly if you like. No need to involve the company. Just keep your handler’s cut for yourselves. I won’t say a word," Price says. "That should be good enough, shouldn't it?"

Horangi leans back, tapping the steering wheel in thought, but you can tell he's interested now. "What's the job?"

"Not a job, really. Just a favor. Let us have custody of your songbird, and the money's yours. Make up some story about how she got away or got shot if you need a scapegoat. We’ll turn a blind eye if you prefer. Keep the record nice and clean."

Horangi glances at you. “Songbird’s worth a lot to the company.”

“You’re not the company, now are you? You already did the damn job. You should get paid. You and your team.”

He likes the sound of that. Price's offer turns both of your situations into something everybody can be pleased with. Get the mercs paid for what they lost. They get the girl. Fine by him. He hums in thought. “Cash in hand.”

There’s a beat of silence on Price’s end. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cash in hand,” Horangi says again. “Or no deal.”

“Are you sure about that? Wired funds spend just as well as cash.”

“I can afford to be picky, my friend.”

Another long pause. “Is that so?”

“Apologies. I’d be happy to consider your deal if I hadn’t already made a better one with someone else. He’s willing to pay cash.”

“Who?”

Horangi scoffs and ends the call. He tosses your phone into the backseat floorboards and ignores your stare burning into the side of his head. “Don’t worry, rookie,” he tells you. “You know it’s a better deal than you’d get back at base. You’ll thank me one day.”

…

But you don’t make it back to base.

It’s an ambush. A trap—Horangi doesn’t see the charges on either side of the road until it’s too late, and the truck transporting you flips forward onto its roof. One minute, you’re feeling the melted snow in your boots; the next, you’re looking down at the road through the windshield. Then you’re coming to in a haze of gunfire and hoarse voices barking call-and-response orders all around you.

It’s not until your teammates have evacuated the wrecked truck that you attempt to move yourself and do the same. Maybe they plan to come back for you; maybe they think you’re dead. Maybe you are dead. You really fucking hope not. Whatever death has in store for you, it had better not force you to contend with the agonizing pain of a dislocated shoulder and broken glass buried in every second nerve ending.

You push against the seatbelt holding you to the seat, having to twist out of your coat just to slump to the pavement. You’re still ziptied, but you have to move. If whoever laid this ambush finds you, you're done for.

Somehow, all you can think about is Johnny. If he could see you now, he’d never let you hear the end of it. He’d lecture you like a goddamn recruit. You hate how much you want to see his stupid face get angry at you again.

There’s a long lull in the gunfire. Then the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone curses and orders the others to “spread out,” searching for your scattered teammates—for survivors.

Your teammates aren’t coming. You’re on your own.

Then you remember Price’s call and Horangi swiping your phone from your pocket.

Desperately, you shoulder your way back into the wreckage. Somehow, you find it. The screen is cracked, but it still lights up when you wrestle your bound wrists under your feet and touch the screen. Thank Christ. You redial Price's number from the call log.

He picks up on the first ring. "Go for Price."

"I need to talk to Johnny."

There's a moment of crackling silence through the line. Then: "Soap's tied up at the moment. What's going on?"

"I don't know. Ambush. The car flipped." You wince, feeling broken glass cut into your shoulder. The slushy pavement under you is turning ruddy. Oh, that’s your blood. "It's bad."

Price swears under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Near the base of the mountain. In the side. There's a... a lot of trees. Twenty hostiles. I think. I can't see."

"Stay put. We'll find you. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime."

"I want to talk to Johnny."

"For God’s sake. You can talk to him in person when we find you. Just sit tight."

"Let me talk to my goddamn soulmate," you hiss. You put as much venom into your voice as you can, but even you hear how weak you sound.

Price says something away from the speaker you can't quite make out. There's shuffling and then another familiar voice picks up, low and gruff, and tinged with a Scottish burr.

"Hen?"

The wave of relief that sweeps through you renders you mute for a second.

That makes the worry in his tone swell. “You okay? They hurt you?"

The concern in his voice has your throat tightening. Dammit.

Before you can reply, there's another burst of gunfire and a hostile voice much too close by for comfort. You grab the phone and edge your way further into the tenuous safety of the wreckage. You clutch the phone in your hands, barely clocking the glass screen digging into your palm.

The sound of your voice cutting out over the line triggers Soap’s anxiety all over again. He curses up a storm on the other end, his voice rising with every word and the urgency in his tone growing as he calls you by name.

You hear more footfalls, but whoever it is, they don't seem to notice you. You've not been gunned down yet, at least. You need to find somewhere safer.

Peering around the wreckage, you look for somewhere else you can hide. The tree line is close. You don't know how long you'll last in the snow no matter what, especially without your coat—but cold cover is safer than none. Staying under a leaking, gasoline-filled truck carcass isn’t a good long-term plan.

Soap’s voice rises over the line. "Dammit, say somethin'!"

Finally you do. "Johnny?"

"Jesus." Soap closes his eyes, hoping like hell he's not about to hear you get shot, or captured, or worse. He can already tell by the rough sound of your voice that he's not going to like what you say next. "I'm here," he says quickly, trying to keep the worry from his own voice. "Where are ya?"

"I’m an idiot. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn about..." You let out a harsh sigh. "You. Just wanted to tell you that."

It suddenly feels like there's a block of ice lodged in Soap’s chest. "That a goodbye, darlin'?" he says.

"I'm doing my goddamn best. Alright?"

"That’s a sorry fuckin’ excuse. You’re aways doing your best," Soap snaps. An ugly, hard thread of bitterness creeps into his tone. "Trouble is you always choose the worst way of goin’ about it. I’m not lettin' you go like this.”

"I know it's my fault," you retort. "Okay? I should've listened to you. Are you happy to hear me fucking say it?"

"Does it look like that's gonna fix things?" Soap’s voice rises with every word now. His temper is frayed at the edges. "No, I'm not bloody happy. I don't want apologies. I don't want some grand realization. I just want you to survive. You're damn right you fucked up. And you've got a lot of work to do to make it up to me, so you'd best stay alive. You hear me?"

You swallow, clutching the phone tighter in your hands.

"Answer me."

"I'll try."

"No. You'll do," Soap says in a voice that brooks no argument. His voice drops low again, but the anger is still there. "You will make it back to me. You'll do whatever it takes. You don't get to leave me alone after all the trouble you gave me. I'll not hear one more sorry excuse."

God. You want him so bad it hurts. You close your eyes, concentrating on the pain of the glass in your skin and your dislocated shoulder to sharpen your focus. "Fine."

"That's my girl." The words come out rough, heated, and tinged with something like pride. "You just stay put," he says. "We'll find you."

You tense as another set of voices raise in aggravation nearby. The longer you stay here, the greater the chance you'll be seen. "I have to go," you say lowly into the phone. "Need better cover."

"Stay on the line," he says quickly. "Do not hang up. Hen!"

You bring your ziptied wrists down hard on the edge of your boot—and again, and again, pain radiating up your arm—until it finally snaps.

With your hands free, you pull yourself out from under the wreckage and away, leaving Soap on the line to hear nothing but shouting and gunshots.

Soap listens through the phone, biting down hard on the curse that threatens to tear free. He can't lose you. He's going crazy imagining the worst right now. His mind is all too happy to cycle through a parade of gory images. No. No, you can't go, not like this.

He'd give anything to be a knife on your belt right now. A bullet in your gun. Anything but this—this utter fucking helplessness. He can’t do anything but sit on the other end of a line and listen. It's torture.

Even with Price at the wheel, racing all of them toward the bottom of the mountain.

"We'll make it, Soap," is all Price says.

Soap nods, but he barely hears it. All he can listen to is the sound of gunfire through the phone and the cold, visceral rage in the pit of his stomach. He'll claw his way to you with his bare hands if he has to. It doesn’t matter how much blood and sweat it costs him to get you back. You’d better keep your word and stay alive to make it up to him.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / [part 11] / part 12

more Soap / masterlist

[namjooningera]

Hi, first timer here. May I humbly request for a drabble with Yandere Nanami wherein his darling gets sick and tries to avoid Nanami, but fails and gets coddled in return

You absolutely may!

Yandere JJK react to you being sick

Characters: Nanami, gojo, geto, Toji

Tw: sickness, forced physical touch, poisoning (?) 👀

AN: I decided to go with all the characters cuz I actually like this prompt! However nanamis will be longer since you asked for him specifically :D btw y’all I’m thinking of adding Choso! Tell me what y’all think ;)

Nanami:

You cough and shake, body trembling. Nanami’s at work, you know that because he isn’t on his side of bed. His watch and phone have been picked off the nightstand, the windows were sealed shut again, and the clock on the night stand buzzed with the numbers

11:23 am.

It’s late. Well, sort of. It’s the late where you don’t usually wake up. Sure you don’t wake up as early as Nanami does, but you at least wake up before the afternoon.

Before, you’d wake up as early as possible, well, when you had a life, that is.

But your sniffling, your nose is clogged and your body aches. Your throat, restricted. You can barely swallow down that dry saliva because dammit your throat aches. You need some water to smooth your sore throat, but you find the glass at the night stand completely empty.

You slowly crawl out of bed, on all fours, body weak and mind empty. You’re tired, you feel dirty, and you feel like you could pass out.

You basically limp to the kitchen with your glass in your hand, at any point knowing you could drop it. It’s just so heavy in your weak hand, and it fucking slips.

It slips onto the floor and shatters. You sigh, staring at the broken glass on the floor. No worries! Right? You’ll pick up a broom and clean it up later.

That’s a future you problem

Amongst all the other problems you have. You get another glass from the cabinet, filling up your cup and downing the water. It hurts so bad, like a shards going down your throat but the slight relief it gives, helps.

But you can’t stand for long, your bottom hitting the kitchen counter, hands grabbing the edges for support. You stumble into it, trying to move, but your eyes get blurry.

Your body is weaker, your vision is weak, eyes droopy and legs starting to give out.

It’s fine- you’re fine. Is what you tell yourself. You can’t let Nanami know about this. He’ll take care of you- then his ego will boost ten fold. He’ll probably get more clingy and desperate, protective. He won’t let you go for a second then after your no longer sick, he’ll think he has some control over you know. That you owe him. That’s what you think anyway. Not that he actually cares about you (oh he certainly does), but you’d like to keep it in your head that he’s being fake, that he’s a bad man. Because you know as soon as you realize his actions are purely out of love, that he loves you, perhaps you’ll actually start to gain empathy for him. Feel emotions.. you shouldn’t.

He was your favorite coworker, best friend. You grew up with him, or at least from high school. He’s taken care of you before, but now you just don’t trust it.

Your back, starts to slide down the kitchen counter, and you hazily sit against the kitchen cabinet. You look at the time.

“11:46 am”

Ok great, he won’t be back until 7 right? That’s how it normally is if he has some out of city mission.

But your eyes get droopy, your dizzy, your vision is blurred, mouth dry and oh-

Your head is heavy and falls over onto the floor. You’re on your side, shivering. It’s hot but your also shivering, you can’t tell if your freezing or if your heating up. Your mind starts to shut down and so does your body- the sweat that drools down your forhead, the body heat that illuminates your skin.

You lay unconscious on the kitchen floor.

Nanami’s excited.

He’s able to come home early today. Around 3pm? He was so glad. It turns out this out of city mission was actually a lot simpler then told- or maybe it was gojo beating them before he could even arrive. Turns out gojo finished them off quick so he could have a chance to eat out in another city with Nanami. Nanami rolls his eyes at the thought. Luckily he was able to escape after a while of entertaining Gojo Satoru for that long. He could come home early to his darling and he was excited.

Excited to spend the mid-day with you too. He opened the door excitedly, a sliver of a smile adoring his face as he opened the door, bakery sweets in hand (he had to buy some to cope with Satorus constant crude comments).

“Sweetheart! I’m home!”

He says cheerfully, but his smile drops just a tad when you don’t come to the door to greet him. He just shrugs anyway, going off to the room to find you and tell you about his insufferable day, but feed you sweets and tell you, you make it all better.

But as he passes the kitchen, he immediately stops, his head is thrown in your direction and he sees you. On the floor.

You’re on the floor. Why are you on the floor? Why’s there broken glass? Did you hurt yourself? Purposely? On accident? He runs over, his feet sliding over the glass, he winces but ignored it, dropping on his knees, looking at your sweaty cold body. He was confused at the glass, his aching feet, your cold but heated body passed out on the floor.

“D-dear? My love?” He whispered. His voice lingered with panic, major panic actually, he was terrified.

“Dear please!” He raised his voice for the first time ever, breaking one of his own rules he had for himself.

Your ears are ringing, but your eyes finally start top open and you look up at him.

“N-Nanami..” even though your angry at him, furious, you look up at him, and you know the fear in his eyes are genuine.

And you see your best friend.

Your high school best friend. The sweet man from high school. Patient, kind, caring, quiet, your lovely best friend. The one that you.. had more then just friendly feelings for. I mean how could you not? He was so sweet and perfect. Always spoiling you, taking care of you, making sure you ate and we’re always well kept. He made you laugh too, unintentionally most of the time but still hilariously. And oh was he handsome. He’s always been, and it always made you wonder why he never dated. Never say anyone or had something as simple as a crush. You always thought it was probably because he was too busy, the jujutsu sorcerer life isn’t easy, it’s time consuming and utterly dangerous, no fit for a relationship.

You look up at Nanami. He’s your best friend. A year rolls down your eye, dropping to the floor.

“Sweetheart? Don’t cry? My love, what happened?” His voice was shaking, he was scared.

You haven’t seen him like this before.

Hah, no that’s a lie. You have. And it was.. quite.. violent.

And right before you got kidnapped.

You get it now.

He did do this, kidnapped you and all, for your own safety. To make sure he’d always have you his palms, his hands, so that you’d never break.

But look at you. Even now. Even though your in the safety of his home, his surveillance, your still ill and wounded.

Your shaky breaths leave your mouth and your lidded eyes look up at him. He swallows hard. He considers taking you to the hospital- but no. They’d take you away from him. But he’d also rather have you completely safe and hurt free. If letting you’d go meant you’d be better, then so be it.

But his hands shook as he went to touch you. He didn’t want you to leave. Once he lets you go you’ll be gone forever.

His hand caressed your cheek, a tear bubbling in his eyes, and that’s when you know. When you know what’s in his mind, what he’s thinking.

“I-I’m fine..” Your voice incredibly shaky and desperate.

Just get away. You think. Leave me alone. Fuck. You want him gone, you want this asshole- the idiot who betrayed you- who kidnapped you who hurt you- you want him gone and off your back.

“You’re not fine. Your not! Sweetheart I- what happened?”

“C-could be uh-“ you cough, “food poisoning?” Perhaps, but you’re unsure. You’re both unsure.

He picks you up. His arms shaking and feet stinging from the small shards of glass that stick up his heels. He carries you to your room, placing you softly on the bed with a shaky exhale leaving his lips.

His face is pale and sweaty, he looks more sick then you.

“I’ll call you an ambulance okay?” Shaky tears leave his eyes. He holds your hand tightly, towering over your spread body.

“W-wha?”

He sighs, a sad smile on his lips.

“I-if that’s what I have to do.. to.. stop this.”

You think. You could get away, have that chance. But you also think it isn’t worth it.

Looking up at your best friend, the tears leaving his eyes, that soft smile he’s looked at you with before. Fuck. You know there’s something deeper to this, he didn’t do all of this on purpose. His obsession, obsession with protecting you and shadowing you and god just his constant paranoia and possessiveness until he kidnapped you- it had to be at a fault not from him right?

And looking up at the man you called your alley, your best friend, your crush. You had to save him. Maybe then, once you do, you two could be normal again? You could learn to forgive him, he’d let you go, and heal. And once he healed.. perhaps you two could be something more? More than a forced relationship.

Your hand tightens over his. Barely, but he feels it.

“S-stay.”

His eyes widened and he looks down at you. “Honey? What?”

“D-don’t wanna go Kay? Can take care of m’self.”

He grumbled at that. “Absolutely not. Your body is heated to hell and your shivering. You look terrible.”

You huff. “Rude.”

“Dear please let me take you to a hospital? Or to get checked out at least, please?” He’s so desperate, it’d be sweet if it wasn’t for the situation you were in, with a lovesick yandere. But you knew he wouldn’t let you go until someone could heal and take care of you. You sighed to yourself.

“Just go buy some medicine? Will be fine…” you mumbled.

“Do you have to be so thick headed? I know you’re in pain. At least let me take care of you.”

“Just leave me alone!”

Your scream threw him back, stepping back from you. “I…I understand.”

He left the room, his eyebrows bunched up and his mouth in a scowl. You felt disgusting, but hoped some nap could help. A nap that would wake you up from this horrid shit, perhaps this was all a dream.

Alas, you wake up. And it’s not a dream. And you feel even worse, actually. Your throat is completely closed, you can’t speak for fucks sake, your entire body is covered in a thick inch of sweat and you feel sticky. Your clothes are too tight and your hair feels wet, sticking onto your forehead. Your stomach is empty but still feels twisted, and god your body is so weak. So weak you can’t get up, so weak you don’t think you can even move your hand to grab the glass of water on your nightstand.

Everything hurts. You can’t avoid Nanami now, you need him.

“N-Nanam…” your realize your voice is basically gone to dust, you can’t speak and you can’t call out for him, and that’s when the panic starts to set in.

What if he left the house and won’t be back until late night? What if he doesn’t come check on you? What if he’s so upset for you avoiding him and pushing him away so he doesn’t help you?

But as your thinking all these thoughts, the door slowly starts to crack open, you see some blonde hair peeking out and an eye.

“Nan…nana..mi..” his eyes widens and he ran over to you.

“You need me?”

It’s like he was waiting out there for you to call him, right outside the door until you wake up and asked for him. You push that thought to the back of your head.

“Sweetheart- your burning up even worse then before. Please, please let me take care of you at least. I’m begging you, my love.”

You grumbled, looking up at him from your pillow. The soft expensive fucking sheets that nobody should be allowed to buy, clutched and balled up in your sweaty hands.

“F-fine.” You mumbled.

He smiled, but not one out of happiness but out of relief. “I’ll be the best care taker you’ve ever seen, my love. You’ll be better in no time.”

Gojo-

Satoru is possible the worst man you could be sick around. He gets fucking clingy and won’t leave you alone for a second. Treating you like some newborn baby who needs the utmost care at every waking moment.

That’s why, when you feel a oh so familiar cough rise in your throat, a chill in your spine and a just lovely heat illuminating from your forehead, you don’t tell him.

You pretend like it’s not even there. You think it’ll pass anyway. It’s probably some cold, some small bug that you’ll get over in a few days.

But it’s not that easy, especially when the medicine cabinet is locked and Satoru barely leaves you alone.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Your try to play off the fast you just chocked on your own disgusting heavy cough, as if you weren’t just about to puke from how gross and vile that cough felt.

You cleared your throat and continued to watch the TV. Satoru put on some lame show and you decided you had nothing better to do, so you plopped down on the sofa to watch, too. Well, plopped down on the entire other side of the sofa.

It’s funny though, he thinks you don’t see the way he slowly scoots over closer to you every second. It’s pathetic, really. But if you didn’t hate him so much you’d actually find it kind of endearing.

“Hey, uhh. You have any pain killers? Or just.. medicine.”

He looks at you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just.. have a headache. You know..”

He raises his eyebrow at you but nods. “Follow me..”

He leads you out of the living and to the kitchen. Where he unlocks a cabinet with a key that he pulled out of who knows where.

He grabs some pain killers for your so called “headache” and while he’s taking a pill out, you sneak behind him and try to grab some cold cough medicine.

And obviously, you get caught immediately because who wouldn’t.

“I knew it! You are sick!”

“No! I just uhh..”

“You just uhh.” he mocks you. “You’re sick- I can see it all over your face. Can’t fool me.” He snickers, grabbing the cold couch medicine, and you, by the arm, and drags you to the living room where he forces you to situate yourself on the sofa while he stands.

“How long have you been sick?”

You shrug.

He scoffs. “Fine. You know what? Your not getting these,” he waves around the cough medicine, “until I get a hug. A hug for every pill you want.” He huffs and strikes his chin upwards, acting all mad and pouty.

“What? Your kidding. Satoru this isn’t funny.”

“It’s really not.” He answers.

“Fine. I’ll cough all over you and get you sick too.”

He huffed and bonked your head a few times. “Hey! You want the cough medicine or not? Don’t you wanna get better?” He teased with a very annoying smile on his face.

But your desperate, and you can feel your throat start to clog and a cough starting to gear up, you know what you have to.

“-ugh fine!”

….

It’s a few hours later.

Satoru was fucking elated. Floating on cloud nine, while you, were stuck in his arms. He had been clinging onto for who knows how long. As soon as you gave in and gave him those hugs, he wouldn’t let go.

Yes, he gave you those pills, yes you feel relieved and less sick, but god was it really worth it? Worth your dignity and sanity?

“One more episode pleaseeeee.” He whined, knowing damn well that he could just force you to watch with him anyway, but it was as if he wanted that reassurance that you wanted to watch with him too.

Which you didn’t.

“No satoru. I’m sleepy, okay? I’m tired.”

He mumbled something incoherent and grumbled, but then a smile appeared on his face.

“Oh no problem! Let’s just go to bed then!”

You didn’t realize what he meant until he grabbed you off the couch, carrying you off into your room giddily and jumped into bed with you.

He cuddled up to your side and sniffed into your neck, inhaling your scent and almost rubbing himself into your nape.

“S-satoru move..”

He chuckled and just squeezed closer to you. “But you’re sick sweetie.” He said with a faux pout, the kind where you know he was taunting you. “I need to be with you at all times to check your temperature and make sure my girl doesn’t get worse~”

Geto-

Suguru geto is a weird man.

He goes off everyday to his cult, his huge estate that wraps around his cult.

You don’t know it all started, what lead him to kill the leader and take over. No, you do know. You just wish you knew why. You wish you could’ve stopped him before his corruption. But alas, here you are.

But this time, Suguru is upset with you. Before he left to “work”, you had called him names and yelled at him. Told him to get away from you and that you hate him. You don’t know why you suddenly blew up, you’ve been eerily calm these past few days, but your upset. He’s been forcing himself on you, not sexually, but he’s been trapping you two together.

Following you everywhere you went, acting all calm when you got upset as if he wasn’t the problem. At one point he tried to get into the bathroom while you were showering, yes that was the last straw.

In your robe you yelled at him and called him out, and at one point it got out of hand, you started saying things that didn’t even have to do with why you were mad.

He left upset, he didn’t say anything. Just silent as he listened to your screams then left silent, too. And that was the scariest of them all.

But the truth is, you weren’t really upset about the fact he was trying to barge in when you were showering. Sure that would’ve been annoying and outright perverted, but you were mad for a different reason.

The way he almost found out that you were in fact, not showering.

But instead, using the showers loud water noise to cover up the fact that we’re puking.

When you saw the door handle start to turn as you coughed into the toilet, you quickly threw on a robe over your pajamas and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You were angry because he almost caught you. The truth is, you’ve been sick for a while now. You know it’s some stomach bug, you get every now and then but you don’t want Suguru to know.

Because once he knows, it’ll just be another reason to control you. To coddle you and guilt you into staying with him.

But honestly the look on his face before he left- god did it make you feel guilty. You almost bit your inner cheek off seeing that. After all you still had.. unsolved feelings. He’s your best friend for fucks sake- no. He used to be your best friend. Before his corruption.

But you can’t help to think that perhaps- the Suguru you know is still there somewhere. He had to be right? That’s why he still loves and cares for you like he used to. Just now, it’s unwanted and forceful.

He comes home late tonight. You know why but you don’t say anything, you don’t comment on it. You’ve been reading, laying on your bed. Normally suguru comes in, lays on the bed and acts like he’s your husband who came home. Telling to you about his day, and asking about yours, as if he didn’t know.

But today, he doesn’t.

And you’re confused, but you don’t comment on it. And you don’t go to find him either because honestly you could care less.

But the thought lingers in the back of your mind, that uneasy feeling in your chest, heavy. You try to ignore it and read your book. But you can’t, your distracted and you can’t focus .

You decide you need some water, you get up and put your book on your nightstand. But as you walk to the door, about to pull the handle, Suguru comes storming in.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He said angrily, basically threw the door open almost hitting you on the way, grabbing you by your mid arms.

Your confused. He doesn’t have cameras in the bathroom how could he know- oh.

You remember your slip up. The slip up you forgot.

When going to the kitchen to grab a glass of water after puking your guts out in the bathroom, desperately wanting to get that disgusting taste out your mouth and throat.

But then as you made your way to the kitchen for some water, you choke and feel yourself gagging. You throw up into the kitchen sink, coughing your guts out.

You thought that the cameras weren’t in the kitchen- and if so you forgot anyway. To focused on trying not to sob as that disgusting mass left your throat and emptied out your stomach.

“I don’t know what your talking bout Suguru..” you mumbled, trying to act stupid.

Obviously that doesn’t fly with Suguru and he just holds your arms tighter. “I saw you, don’t lie to me. Why didn’t you just tell me?” His voice was angry until it broke at his last words.

“Do you just not trust me anymore?” And god the desperation and sadness in his eyes actually hurt you for a second, the guilt in you starting to bubble up. But you push that aside and shrug your shoulders at him.

He grinds his teeth and pulls you into him. “I’ll earn back your trust, my dear. Or I’ll force it into you.”

Your eyes widen at the last part and you look up at him. He has to be joking, right?

“Excuse me?”

“Your going to bed rest for the rest of the week. I’ll be home the entire time.”

And you realize all your private time away from him has been taken away for the entire damn week, locked in a room, a bedroom, in bed, with Suguru. Fuck. But still, you did feel a twinge of guilt, so even though you heavily didn’t want to stay locked in a room with him, you unhappily agreed, but agreed either way.

Suguru just smiles at you. He doesn’t mean to be harsh, he cares. And he’s smart enough to know what your allergic to and what gets your stomach upset.

It’s just so weird how a curse managed to make it into y’all’s home, undetected by the both of you, and somehow infected you unknowingly.

Oh well.

What you don’t know can’t hurt you right?

Toji-

He’s overprotective and you know that.

That’s why, before you even know your sick, he’s all over you and checking you. He things it’s subtle (spoiler; it’s not) and he coddles you to death.

“I’m gonna take a day off today.” He’s doing it because of you and not one of his stupid excuses. And he says it, while his one arm is around your neck, the other around your belly, trapping to against his chest, your back to him, in bed.

“C-could you let go? I’m over heating..”

He groans and cuddles into you closer. “Few mo’ minutes, doll.” He mumbled into the back of your neck.

“I’m not sick I told you! Get off!”

Except it’s like your extreme refusal that your sick, the refusing his help and refusing him, just ends up in you sick.

You lay on the bed in front of him, while he pulled a chair up to you and spoon fed you soup. You can tell he enjoys it, a sly tug at his lips saying ‘I told you so’, he doesn’t have to say it out loud you just know.

You whine and tell him to go away, you don’t need him to baby you or stay home from work. That you’re perfectly fine taking care of yourself.

“Yeah? You refused me tryna’ help you and ya think you can take care of yourself fine?” He says, basically angry.

You huff and let him push a spoonful of hot soup into your mouth. “

“Why don’t ya just shut your mouth and let me take care of you. So damn bratty.”

You sigh and clutch at your blanket. You have nothing better to do then surrender to his touch because you feel so damn weak.

He slightly smiled at you, seeing you finally quiet down and let him feed you without a fight.

What a smart girl. He thinks.

It’s like you know the antidote is in the soup.

….

So that was crazy guys. Anyways! Should I add choso and Sukuna? I love them sm 😋 (tbh kinda scared to write Sukuna cuz he’s insane)

[satoruxx]

SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

[babyleostuff]

hi! I was wondering if you would write an angst svt reaction about them saying something they didn’t mean in a fight but it just came out?

i decided to do this with the hhu, if you want me to do it with any of the other units let me know!

saying something they didn’t mean in a fight | hip hop unit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

as a leo and a fire sing myself, i’m sure that cheol can be a bit impulsive and not think his actions through, especially if it’s during a fight where his emotions are all over the place. things would get heated really quickly with him, and he’d have a hard time holding his tongue. 

“shit, baby,” he reached for your hand, eyes wide and panicked. “don’t fucking call me that seungcheol,” you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, looking at him with an expression that made his heart shutter to million pieces. 

he knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said them, but his brain was too slow to understand that, and the heat of the argument made him lose all of his common sense. “my precious baby, i’ve hurt them,” that would be the thought that’d run through his mind, as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just done. “just… leave me alone.”

and he’d do that. he’d give you as much time as you needed, but that wouldn’t mean he’d abandon you. cheol would make you your favourite ramyeon and place it at the nightstand next to your bed where you were resting, or he’d put his hoodie in the dryer you always wore after shower, so it’d be warm and cosy. 

and he’d take his pillow and blanket from your bed to sleep on the couch, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, and so that you could rest peacefully. but then, after maybe an hour of tossing and turning, seungcheol would hear quiet footsteps, and a dog's paws running across the wooden floor, meaning you couldn’t sleep as well. 

you’d lay next to seungcheol, your back pressed against his warm chest, as his arms shyly sneaked around your waist to pull you even closer. “please, let’s never fight like that again,” you murmured, pulling one of cheol’s hands under your chin, nuzzling your nose against his palm.

 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 

honestly, i have a hard time imagining wonwoo saying something he doesn’t mean. i feel like he always thinks before he talks, no matter what situation he’s in, and he strikes me as a person who is great at keeping his emotions at bay, contrary to cheol. he’d also have this thought at the back of his head that no fight is worth hurting you with his words. 

you looked at each other in confusion, as the words left wonwoo’s mouth. never in your whole relationship had he said anything like that, so you were taken aback more by the fact that he even said it more than that it was directed towards you. 

wonwoo nervously fixed his glasses, looking as lost as you. you could almost see his brain trying to understand what had just happened. “i’m sorry i… i didn’t mean what i just said,” he looked at you, eyes big and sad. 

you sighed, and grabbed his hand intertwining your fingers. “i know you didn’t mean it baby” you said, looking at his broken expression. “but you still said it.” his eyes got even wider, and he quickly cradled your face in his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks. 

“i know that no matter what i say won’t change what i did, but you have to know that no part of my mind and soul believes in what i said. that was just a stupid intrusive thought that i shouldn’t have said.” 

even though you said you forgave him, wonwoo was still very attentive to you for the rest of the evening - he had you on his lap for the whole time he was gaming, he made sure the sweatshirt you wore to bed was one of his best ones, and he cuddled you extra close to his chest that night.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

another fire sign, and as cheol (this might be an unpopular opinion?), might also have issues with controlling his emotions and words during heated arguments. like, i know he’s an amazing person with the best personality, etc. etc. BUT i see gyu as someone who is very defensive of his beliefs and point of views, and i think he can get quite stubborn, which can lead to him saying things he doesn’t really mean.

mingyu knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth - both of you were consumed by your emotions and neither of you were thinking clearly. the only difference was that he let those emotions hurt you. 

“i didn’t… i don’t…,” he whispered, looking at your shattered expression. yeah, he couldn’t believe it either that those horrendous words left his mouth. you closed your eyes tightly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the person who you trusted with your life broke your heart just like that, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. he didn’t deserve a single tear after what he had done. 

you held your head high up as you turned around and started walking towards the door. “no, no please,” mingyu followed after you, catching up with you quickly. “don’t leave my love. hate me, yell at me, punch me, but don’t leave,” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes glossy, and you knew that he was trying not to cry as well. 

“i’ll take the couch for tonight, but stay. i won’t let you walk out, it’s too dangerous.” 

he cradled your head in his hands, and pecked your forehead gently, before disappearing in the bedroom to take his pillow and an extra blanket.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 

same with wonwoo, i don’t see vernon saying something he doesn’t mean. like, i don’t think his mind even works that way. for one - arguments with him are never heated, not because he doesn’t give a fuck, but his personality and mindset are so calm and collected in itself that neither of you even have a chance to raise your voices.

“i’m sorry,” he stared at his shoes, too scared to look at you. “i’ll leave you alone.” 

he quietly closed the front door behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment, confused and sad. vernon rarely got angry, especially at you, and you had never heard him raise his voice. you had a stupid fight that probably started over something stupid, but both of you were tired and irritated and you just snapped at each other.

but you didn’t mean for him to leave. 

later that night, when the sun had already set, vernon came back home as quietly as he left. “chwe hansol, where the fuck have you been?” you exclaimed, worried to death. You threw your arms around hiis neck, pulling him close to you. You shivered as he nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. 

“you know i didn’t mean what i said, right?” he asked, pulling his face away from you. “of course, silly,” you smiled at him, caressing the back of his neck. “but never leave like that again, or i’ll kick you out myself.”

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[gojoidyll]

thinking of boothill x insecure ! reader.

warnings | pre-release boothill & grammatical errors

All your life there was always someone who tore you down and made you feel lesser than those around you.

But when you met Boothill, well, you thought that maybe you could finally get the peace you've been searching for. Besides, unlike everyone else, he doesn't tell you to clean your forehead so he can place a bullet between your eyes. (You saw that as a compliment since everyone else gets threatened here and there.)

However, your scars, though invisible and deeply rooted where no one can see, are still there. Eating away at you.

And you know that someone tampered with Boothill's Synesthesia Beacon, so you know that when he says something like "cutie" it isn't something nice at all.

Which is why you couldn't stop that nagging feeling in the back of your head everytime Boothill calls you as such.

"Hey cutie-"

"Cutie."

"So, how about it, cutie?"

His tone would always be flirtatious and smooth. But, you were never good at reading people. Was he mocking you? Was he abusing his tampered beacon and using it as a chance to call you crude names without you knowing?

It always made your body tense and your eyes to look away from him.

Boothill was always quick to notice your change in demeanor when the nickname would leave his lips.

"Watch ya overthinking about now, cutie?"

Now it was one of those rare days where he didn't have anyone to chase after or a bounty to collect, and here you were sitting at a bar all by your lonesome self. And, as per usual, he didn't fail to notice your tensed up shoulders the moment "cutie" left his mouth.

"Nothing..."

"Don't be like that, cutie, go on and tell ol' Boothill what's troubling ya."

He decided to push your buttons. If you weren't going to answer him normally, then calling you cutie a bunch of times was bound to do the trick.

"Can you," you mumbles the rest of your request causing him to lean into you. Your elbows just barely touching as you gripped your class of (favorite) drink tightly. The condensation of the glass soaking your hands.

"What was that, cutie?"

He emphasized the nickname while being sure to pop the "t".

"That nickname... please stop calling me that. I know your synesthesia beacon is broken, so i-"

"Let me stop ya right there," he threw and arm around your shoulders and pulled you against him. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the heat you could feel radiating off of him. It was an odd feeling.

"I got that beacon fixed a few months ago and even before I got it fixed.. when I would call you cutie or something else, it was never meant to be an insult."

You opened and closed your mouth trying to find the words to say something, anything.

HE GOT IT FIXED?!?!?!

"I- you- what?!"

He laughed at your dumbfounded expression and gave your hip a firm slap, "the expressions you make are sure worthwhile to see, cutie. Now, let's drink!"

After that, you were sad to say that your insecurities were still there. They still haunted you everytime you looked in a mirror or were around people who you genuinely thought were better than you in every possible way.

But when you were with Boothill, well, he made you feel worth it.

[hawkinsbnbg]

hold me tight

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 20: “I didn’t know where else to go.”

tags: post Starcourt, friends to lovers, requited unrequited love.

rated: T | word count: 1k4 | ao3

This was stupid, Steve told himself. Absolutely stupid. It wasn't like Eddie was his friend or anything.

They just happened to spend many sleepless nights together smoking and talking about everything and nothing. They just met up at Skull Rock almost every day so Steve could decompress by listening to Eddie's ramblings about DnD, Hell Fire Club, and Corroded Coffin. They just told each other a lot of secrets and held hands to offer each other comfort. They just shared multiple inside jokes that not even their own friends would know.

They just—

Okay, maybe Steve had downplayed it. Because at this point, Eddie might be his only real friend in this town.

And it was just Steve's luck to catch feelings for him and lose him in the process.

See, since his young age, Steve had always been self-aware enough to know what he wanted. Whether it was toys, food, or people. He just never made his liking obvious in case his parents decided to hold them over him.

Hence, nonchalance had always been his default façade. It was the "Kill two birds with one stone", helped him protect his secrets, helped him conceal his most vulnerable part, and helped him remain indestructible under scrutinizing eyes.

And for a long time, Steve thought he was so smart, hiding his true self behind the garnished mask he had created.

Until he met Nancy, until he got his heart broken that night in Tina's bathroom, until he stumbled on Eddie and realized that the mask he wore made him look exactly like what he always hated.

Bullshit.

And now, standing on the Munson Trailer's porch, Steve tried to not turn on his heels and run away or puke his guts out because he was too scared of facing rejection again.

But he also didn't want to be alone right now, and call it his moment of weakness, he just wanted to be held and reassured that everything would be alright even when he probably didn't deserve it.

Selfishly, though, he knew Eddie wouldn't say no to him, not when he was in such a pitiful state, not when they used to be good friends up until Steve ruined it all. And perhaps, it was the thought that gave him enough courage to rap his knuckles on the door.

"D'you know what time is it, man? If you're here to ask for weeds– Holy shit!"

Against his better judgment, Steve shrank in himself, ashamed that he was causing trouble for Eddie once more, making himself as small as possible and bracing for another rejection.

"Uhm, hi?" He smiled weakly.

Wordlessly, Eddie guided him inside, led him to the couch, and sat him down.

After handing him a glass of water, which he sipped slowly, Eddie started cleaning the cuts on his face, movements gentle as if afraid of hurting him.

Though it wasn't much and Steve knew any decent human being would treat him with the same sympathy, his heart still didn't get the memo and started somersaulting in his chest.

He watched the soft yellow light cast on Eddie's face, illuminating those dark brown eyes like stars, shining on the plump lips being worried between those sharp white teeth.

He glanced down, taking in the sleeveless black tee and gray sweatpants, the crimson guitar pick dangling on Eddie's chest as he leaned forward slightly, the tattoos on the pale arms, the long fingers, void of rings.

"What happened?" Eddie asked, sounding genuinely worried, after a moment of tense silence.

Instead of answering the question, Steve only shrugged and grimaced slightly.

"Sorry for waking you up this late. It's just," he averted his gaze to avoid Eddie's intense look. "I didn't know where else to go."

"You're always welcome here, Sweetheart," said Eddie kindly. "And you can wake me up whenever. We're already past that, aren't we?"

Eddie was right.

It wasn't rare for the older boy to climb through Steve's window at random hours and invite himself into Steve's bed so they could cuddle until morning. And it wasn't new for Steve to do so to Eddie, either.

Over just a few months, they had grown impossibly close and Steve would dare to say Eddie was the one who understood him the most and vice versa.

Except, it was never that simple, wasn't it?

It wasn't as if Steve hadn't kissed Eddie in a completely un-platonic way. It wasn't as if they hadn't seen each other since the day Eddie ran away from him, confused and terrified, leaving Steve with even more nightmares.

He sighed, suddenly feeling tired. Who was he kidding anyway? It was a huge mistake to come here after all.

"Yeah," he sniffed. "But I thought I wouldn't be welcomed anymore after what I did to you."

"Steve," said Eddie sharply.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he squeezed his eyes shut and raked his fingers through his sticky hair, using the dull aches to ground himself. "I– Tonight's been a lot. People died, Eddie. And all I could think about was you. As much as I regret driving you away, I'd kiss you again and again even if I were allowed to come back to that day to fix my mistake. Because it had kept you safe and away from me, from dangers. And I swear I'm not trying to make you forgive me out of pity. I know I had screwed up big time. So I'm gonna be out of your hair soo–"

Steve let out a gasp when Eddie suddenly kissed him, staring in shock as Eddie pressed another one on the corner of his mouth, tasting his blood and pain.

"What–"

"I'm aware this is far from the appropriate answer you deserve," Eddie brushed a hair out of Steve's forehead, smiling sadly. "But I couldn't find any way more obvious to tell you the kiss was never a mistake. Because I've been dreaming about it for months and you had granted me exactly what I wanted."

Steve was confused. Because why would Eddie say that? Why would he kiss Steve then when all Steve wanted was to make it right? Why would he look so sad when he had already shattered Steve's heart into pieces?

"Why?" Steve asked softly, unable to hold a grudge when Eddie was looking at him like he hung the moon and stars, overwhelming and nothing he had feared at all.

"I was scared," said Eddie bluntly without needing him to elaborate, always understanding him beyond words. "That's not an excuse for the way I acted with you. I was an ass for going radio silence and leaving you in the dark. As your friend, I should've known to communicate better. But I didn't and I caused you all this pain just because I panicked over a kiss I've been wanting since the first time I saw you."

"I'm really sorry, Sweetheart," said Eddie quietly, hand cradling his face gently like one would hold something precious. "For having been an idiot and a coward. For breaking your trust. For running away. For hurting you."

Leaning into the touch, Steve closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of old weeds, leather, citrus, and cigarettes, feeling oddly homesick even though he was already home.

He wanted to get mad at Eddie, to demand some kind of compensation for his battered heart; and yet, he was tired, in pain, and about to keel over now the drug in his system had worn off.

However, he was in no shape to hold a serious conversation at the moment and he knew Eddie had noticed it too.

"Let's go take a shower first, okay?" Eddie leaned in and kissed his shoulder. It was so random but Steve still felt his cheeks warm at the intimate gesture.

Somehow, he didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed about it and ended up having Eddie wash his hair for him.

———

After making a call to check in with Robin as promised, he padded into Eddie's room and joined the older boy beneath the quilts and blankets, smiling softly as he thought about all the time he had been in Eddie's bed when he couldn't stand his parents' arguments.

When Eddie pulled him closer, he went willingly and melted into those arms, feeling warm and safe for the first time after two months of staying apart from his best friend.

"I love you," he mumbled into Eddie's chest, too relaxed and sleepy to care about the consequences. Go big or go home, right?

And when Steve finally drifted off, he heard something almost sounded like, "I love you, too."

[makelemonade]

The Tsaritsa is the archon of love, so when she notices and feels that the love lives of her Harbingers aren’t going too well, she has to interfere.

female reader, hurt/comfort, the harbingers are all friends; Pierro and Capitano. - pt2

Pierro

Being the Tsaritsa’s righthand and her first Harbinger was a stressful job. He was hardly at her side despite being her righthand but the moment she needed something done, the first person she’ll go to is him.

The Tsaritsa also hardly shows her face in public, so if there is any event she ever plans for the Fatui, whether it be a gala, ball or anything- she’ll make Pierro go to talk, even though SHE’S the one who hosted it.

Well, sometimes she’s there, lurking. No one actually knows it’s her since she chooses to stay hidden.

She decides to hold an eventful masquerade ball one night to celebrate the success of her Harbinhers. It’s one that she of course probably won’t even be going to and Pierro must go on her behalf.

Despite being his lover of many years, aka HIS WIFE, he has never once let you come to one of these and just says you’ll be bored out of your mind.

But a MASQUERADE BALL?! HELD BY THE QUEEN?! You had to go. This was your dream.

You begged for DAYS and he was so sick of it that he was forced to say yes.

Only for him to completely leave your side the moment you get there. At first, you thought that maybe it was just because he had a job to do, but throughout the night, he did not even spare you one glance.

You were standing off to the side, downing your 5th glass of champagne you’ve been stealing from the trays.

You felt upset, honestly. This was your first ever ball with him, one that you prepared for in terms of elegance and manners. You even made your own dress! It was ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS and it matched your mask and yet he didn’t even say anything.

You watched as he spoke to the Harbingers and important figures in Snezhnaya; they all laughed, smiled and showed off their guests, lovers or whoever they brought and you were practically discarded.

He acted like he had no lover tonight, and It made you wonder if his coworkers even knew he had a wife. Did he ever talk about you? Do they ever wonder why you’re never at the events? Do they even know your name?!

You struggled to listen in to their conversation, only being able to hear if one of them spoke loudly or the room went somewhat quieter.

You heard one speak a bit loud; the mayor of Snezhnaya.

“My Jester, I’ve never once seen you attend these with a guest. Why is that?”

The next voice was quiet, but you knew your husbands voice.

“I simply don’t have anyone to bring.”

You almost dropped your 6th glass of champagne, and if you did drop it, it would’ve broken just like your heart just did.

Married for YEARS yet they don’t even know who you are.

You waited for another waiter to walk by and slammed your glass down onto the tray, deciding you couldn’t stay in this ballroom anymore.

Walking around, you found doors that led out to a balcony and was thankful there was no one on it as you rushed to it.

The doors weren’t open wide so no one would see you out on there, thankfully. You took off your mask, letting your tears flow as you quietly sobbed, ignoring the cold hitting any bare skin.

On these nights, the Tsaritsa always seemed to calm down the weather. There was no harsh snow or rain, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still cold- if anything, this was almost warm.

You leaned against the railing, your hot tears melting through any remaining snow left on it.

Shivering, you couldn’t go back inside- your mascara was probably smudged by now and you didn’t want to look at your husband.

You were thinking of ways to try to leave the ball without your husband noticing but in full honesty, he probably didn’t even notice you were gone right now.

You didn’t even hear the clacks of high heels until you felt something drape over your shoulders and you almost yelped out of surprise.

It was a coat; a long, fluffy one at that. You looked to your side to see you’d been joined by another woman.

Her skin was as pale as the snow, her hair long, flowy and honestly you could’ve sworn it was glowing. Her eyes were as sharp as ice yet as soft as snow.

Her dress was white, with laces of icy blue and sapphires adorned; the same with her mask.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone hide out on a balcony during any of these.” She almost laughed, “Too cold.”

You wondered how she wasn’t cold; she’d given you her jacket, and her arms were bare yet she seemed perfectly fine as she leaned across the railing.

She even dared to jump up on it, sitting down as if there wasn’t a huge risk she could fall off with one gust of strong wind.

That made you noticed there were no harsh winds tonight.

“What’s wrong, dear?” She asked, ever so softly as she took in the sight of your tears.

“Just my husband,” you scoffed, moving a hand up to wipe them. You didn’t know why you were exposing this to a complete stranger yet there was just something about her that seemed like it was right to do so.

She hummed, then chuckled. “Love; such a beautiful yet painful feeling. Glad I’ve had my fair share with it.”

“You’ve been in love before?” You asked, genuinely interested in this random woman’s life.

“Many, many times.” She leaned back a bit, holding onto the railing as she looked up to the sky with a sad smile, watching the northern lights dance.

“Which makes it necessary that I must help people in love.” She looked back down to you, “if you so wish to speak.”

You sighed, wrapping the coat around you closer as you shivered. “I’ve been married to my husband for years, yet it feels like nothing. He has a stressful job- he works for her majesty, so I never ever complain about his absence. Yet tonight, he completely disregarded the fact of my existence and, even his own coworkers don’t know I exist! He won’t introduce me! Am I truly his wife if he can’t even act as my husband?!” You just groaned, looking up at the lights just as she did before.

She took in your words, nodding at every angry or frustrated rant within. After a minute, she spoke.

“Have you ever thought he doesn’t introduce you because of his coworkers?”

You looked down, turning to her confused yet encouraging her to continue, intruiged.

“The Harbingers…as loyal as they may be, some are rather dangerous, reckless and if I dare say myself, absolutely weird.”

You cackled. There was no way this random lady was dissing THE TSARITSA’S HARINGERS. “Do you truly have no fear?!”

She just laughed as well, hopping off the railing to now stand beside you. “I speak the truth. Maybe take that into consideration; perhaps, even though he is the first harbinger and can definitely take on all of them if any dared to touch you-“

You broke out into laughter again.

“-maybe think it’s to protect you from them. His actions tonight are not to be forgotten, and I assure you that soon he will realize his wrong and all will be will.”

You took in her words, looking back up to the sky. Well, she wasn’t wrong; he was the first harbinger, and even though he is insanely powerful, that didn’t mean the others weren’t.

Maybe he was trying to protect you, but that didn’t defend his actions.

You turned to thank the woman, but was met with nothing. She was gone- you didn’t even hear her leave!

Then that reminded you- how the hell did she know he was the first harbinger?! You only mentioned she worked for him.

You still had her coat and you walked towards the doors to head back inside, hoping to find her but she was nowhere near.

You just sighed, choosing to sit on the bench at the side of the balcony. Wrapping the coat around you.

It was large, insanely large- the type of coat that would honestly fit the size of your husband….

You took a closer look at the coat, only to notice the Fatui emblem.

Who the hell was this woman?!

~~

“And then I told that stupid fennec green-haired bastard- OH MY ARCHONS!” Dottore stopped his story when he noticed the sudden presence of his archon and every other harbinger within the circle yelped.

“This is a first.” Capitano muttered, no one knowing if he was surprised or not under that mask.

They all tried to bow but she out her hands out. “Nono! No one knows I’m here other than you all so do not make a scene!” She whisper-yelled and they all immediately straightened themselves.

“Pierro,” She turned to him,

“Yes, your majesty?” He bowed his head,

“May we take a walk?” She asked, putting her arm out.

He nodded, wrapping his arm around hers. “Continue your story, dottore.” She called before she and the first harbinger walked around the ballroom.

“Your wife looks gorgeous tonight.” She said once they were out of earshot.

He looked at her with shock. “How did you-?”

“Pierro,” she sighed, coming to a halt. “You have been at my side for 500 years. You are my best friend but I am also your Archon; nothing gets past me, and as the God of Love it is my duty to tell you that your wife is heartbroken at your actions tonight and i’d advise for you to speak to her!”

During this; she somehow pushed him all the way to the doors and at her final words, she pushed him out onto the balcony, the warmth of the ballroom now gone.

He looked around and found your tear-stained face on the bench and he sighed, sitting beside you.

“You look adorable in that,” He laughed at HIS coat on you.

“Would you like to meet my coworkers, darling? I don’t want you to put this gorgeous dress to waste.”

Capitano

The fourth harbinger hardly ever talks. At meetings, he speaks a total of four words. There are very few Harbingers he will speak too and the only ones he actually talks to more than anyone else is Pierro, Dottore and Signora.

Just because you are his wife does not mean this excludes you.

The Tsaritsa had put both you and him down for an arranged marriage just a few months ago. Her reasoning- told through Pierro- being that Capitano seriously needs someone in his life and she’d rather it be someone who talks a lot- aka you.

You never met the Tsaritsa, but you worked for the Harbingers as a secretary so even before your arranged marriage you’ve had your fair share with all of them.

The Tsaritsa HOPED that maybe at meetings and gatherings capitano would finally talk more after marrying you and yet he remained as quiet as usual according to Pierro and she was gonna lose her shit.

Now, in the privacy of your home with him, he is more comfortable with you than the others. He’s shown you his face, but in truth the only reason being because he doesn’t want to sleep with it on and you literally sleep with him so…

He talks a bit more; he says good morning, good afternoon, good night..

Yeah…

At first you were fine with it; it was better than when you were just his secretary and he’d leave work on your desk with a note saying “have done by today. thanks :)”

It was cute you wouldn’t lie. you just wished he showed that little emotion on the note in real life.

It was nice having someone to constantly talk to and yap to; he always listened in with such focus, and would nod to show he was listening and interested.

But after doing that for months it just gets so tiring to the point it’s just depressing.

You may be married to him now but that didn’t mean your job was gone, so you were still at work with him. Sometimes it would be in his office or in someone else’s if they need help.

One day, at work on your break, you found all the Harbingers into the lounge.

“Y/N!” Childe laughed. “Our favourite- come sit with us!”

You shook your head. “I couldn’t impose, my lord. I was just taking my break.”

“Nonsense,” Signora waved her hand, shaking her head. “Take your break with us.”

Choosing to sit with all of them, you noticed Capitano wasn’t there- as per usual.

As you sat with them and they talked about their lives and missions, they’d ask you a few questions about Capitano. At first, it was simple questions about your marriage thay were deemed common sense which you’d answer yes to, but then it went into questions about him, which is when it got humiliating.

They’d ask about where he was from, what did he like to do in his pastime, why does he hardly talk, what’s his favourite food, drink, how does he like his tea, what are his next missions-

All you could not answer, and instead of you, his own wife answering, Pierro did.

You excused yourself when you realized that was absolutely humiliating. How could you, his wife of several months- close to a year now!- not know anything about him yet his BOSS, knew everything?!

When you left, Pierro noticed everything at that moment, and decided he NEEDED to bring this up with the Archon of Love, but let’s be real.

She already knew, and was trying to figure out ways to fix this; “We need Pantalone and Childe for this. They’re handsome, touchy, flirty and perfect.”

The next day, you’re confused when Pantalone and Childe are suddenly bothering you with everything; Yes, usually they’re asking you to help with paperwork but today was different…

It started in the morning when Childe came up to you asking you to spar with him. He’s only ever asked once, and he literally almost killed you that time. You were strong, but you had no vision and he was a literal harbinger.

He promised he’d go easy, and the sparring session lasted for about 30 minutes. By the end of it, you were completely sweaty and your hair was a mess- he apologized and offered to take you out for lunch

You accepted but decided to at least go put your stuff in your husbands office before you left.

Capitano is a little confused when you walk in absolutely drenched of sweat but just decides you’ll probably talk about it tonight when you’re both laying in bed and continues to work on a few papers.

“Apologies,” You let out a breathy laugh, putting down any bags you brought to work that morning. “I just finished sparring with Childe, and he’s taking me out for lunch. I’ll be back later.”

He doesn’t say anything and you just sigh, already knowing not to expect anything.

From the top of the castle, Pierro and The Tsaritsa watch as you and Childe run away from the castle, clutching onto your coats for dear life from the harsh, cold wind.

“So, what’s the plan here?” He asked, “Pardon my forwardness but I truly am confused.”

She just grinned. “Well, first I asked that Childe were to spar with her and take her out to lunch, which I truly hope makes Capitano the slightest bit jealous. Then upon her return, Pantalone will magically return from the gardens with a rose and give it to her and she’ll go back to her office and tell Capitano about her day and he’ll realize and get jealous and fuck her.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I did not need to know that last part. And if that doesn’t work?”

“A god always has another plan.”

You and Childe are at lunch for about 2 hours; really it would’ve been shorter but you and Childe were BOTH insane talkers so naturally you were there for a long time.

Returning to the castle, Pantalone was seen emerging from the gardens holding a few roses and Childe, for some reason, took that as his queue to wish you his goodbyes and hurry away.

“Good afternoon, Lord Pantalone.” You bowed and he just chuckled.

“No need for pleasantries, Y/N. Here,” He handed you a rose and your eyes were full of surprise as you took it.

You became rather flustered, beginning to stutter. “O-oh, thank you! It’s beautiful.”

“Just for a beautiful girl like you.” He winked and you giggled.

“I’ll be off to give these to Signora. Have a lovely day, Y/N.” He smiled before making his way down the hall, and in seconds he was gone.

You stared down at the rose, feeling giddy. You’d never even received flowers- not even when you got married! Your wedding day wasn’t really even a wedding, instead Pierro officially declaring for you two to be wed and well, that was it.

You practically skipped back to your office, ready to tell your husband all about your day.

~~

“So this morning I got here and the MOMENT I did Childe magically found me and asked me if I wanted to spar! and I was like hesitant because the last time we sparred he like literally almost killed me but he promised he’d go easy on me and he sortaaaa didn’t so he decided he’d take me out to lunch and we were there for like 2 hours just talking and he was so king enough to pay for both! then we got back and Pantalone gave me a rose and he did so with such a sweet compliment! Isn’t that sweet?”

Your husband was not phased by your sudden burst and continued to work, just nodding at everything every few seconds.

“That’s nice.” He murmured, continuing to work- seriously what the hell was he working on for so long?!

You frowned, expecting a little bit more, but at this point it was stupid to expect something from him that now you were a little angry but mostly sad.

You glanced at the rose you had put down in a vase within the room and sighed. “Do you really not care? Are you seriously not jealous?”

His movements paused.

“Like, a man literally just took me out to lunch for 2 hours and practically spent the first half of the day with me, and then another man gives me a rose and tells me I’m as beautiful as it is and you don’t say anything?! I know this is just an arranged marriage but- but I would’ve thought that…maybe you loved me as much as I love you.”

You waited for him to say something, expecting just anything, but that’s the thing with expecting-

You’re met with nothing.

Sighing, you bowed down to him. “My…apologies for overlooking this marriage…my lord. I’ll return to work.” You grimaced acknowledging him so formally, but maybe that was for the best.

You turned around, rushing out of the room before he could say anything, but mostly so he wouldn’t see your tears threatening to pour out.

When the door closed behind you, you let the tears fall as you ran through the dark halls of the castle, trying to find anywhere to hide in.

You made your way to the lounge, happy it was empty as you took a seat on the comfy couch, dragging a hand down your face while also wiping your tears.

Archons, how would you even return home to him tonight? It would be absolutely awkward to have to lay in bed beside him after that outburst.

For the first time, you dreaded having to return home. You loved the warmth he brought whenever you two lay beside each other, and it was even better when he held you.

That made you cry more- how could someone as distant as him, be so soft towards you and hold you when he doesn’t even love you?!

“You know when I heard you and Capitano were getting married I was like- no way.”

You jumped at the sudden voice and somehow, you hadn’t even noticed Signora was sitting beside you and you yelped as you quickly stood up, bowing down.

“M-my lady! I’m so sorry I was just lea-“

“You’re not going anywhere.” She shook her head, patting her hand down on the seat you were just on.

You sighed, realizing you genuinely couldn’t disobey her and sat beside her. You took in her words, “you weren’t the only one; everyone else was shocked.”

“Do you ever think the Tsaritsa was wrong in her choice?” she asked.

You frowned. “In full honesty, I trust her majesty, but maybe this was something she didn’t look into with all her might. It just…doesn’t seem to be working out.”

Signora leaned back into the couch, deciding to get comfy and you took that as a sign to do the same. “Have I ever told you about my lover?”

You shook your head.

“God, 500 years ago. A bit more, actually. He was handsome, amazing, annoying- he honestly reminded me a bit of Capitano. Sure he talked a bit more but I was the talker in our relationship. However, then the cataclysm happened and…look at me now.”

You frowned, looking at her sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled sadly, “No matter how much they don’t talk or how much they don’t seem to focus on you or anything, take into consideration that they’re willing to be there. It’s difficult, to find love especially in so many circumstances, but love is everywhere. I see it with you two, and I know. I know you two can make it.”

You glanced down at her lap to find a rose.

You looked back up at her. “What should I do?”

“Force him to talk.” She laughed. “A man as big as him also has a big heart. Seriously, cry In front of him and he’ll become puddy and do everything for you. He made a child cry once and he almost cried.”

You both broke out into fits of giggles, you trying to imagine that and her remembering it.

“Thank you.” You smiled at her, “Permission to-“

“Just go,” She waved her hand, rolling her eyes. “You don’t need my permission.”

With one final smile, you quickly got up, rushing to make your way back to his office and force him to talk.

Emerging from behind a wall was the Tsaritsa, who stood behind her friend. “How was it?”

“They’re so fucking.” Signora grinned.

~~

You opened the door to his office, but was met with him standing right in front of it, hand hovering in the air.

You practiced what you were going to say to him, but now having him standing right in front of you- literally towering over you- you had no idea what to say.

However, he out his hands up to his helmet, forcing it off and just throwing it to the side and you were met with his glossy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He sniffed, moving his fingers up to rub at his eyes. “I love your rambles- archons I live for them. Every morning when I wake up, I can’t wait to to hear you talk about what your so excited for throughout the day and at night, I can’t wait to hear how your day was. I love you, my dear. I know I don’t…express it much, but I do. So much.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes once again. “Cap…”

“I’ll prove it to you.” He breathed out, a hand making its way to cup your cheek to wipe away a falling rear before he leaned down, connecting his lips with yours so passionately, but most importantly, it was full of love.

He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue in and you let out a whimper as your knees buckled, and he was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you up right before he decided to just pick you up and you yelped, breaking the kiss as he carried you over to his desk, pushing everything off and ignoring the sound of the vase with the rose breaking- instead he smiled at it.

Down the hall, Pantalone, Childe, Pierro, Signora and the Tsaritsa were all grinning.

“They are one hundred percent fucking.” Childe laughed as they all high-fived each other- expect Pierro, who just walked away with a sigh.

[lordprettyflackotara]

dollhouse || jeff the killer || part two

SMUT DNI 18+

“You’re fucking insufferable!

“I’m insufferable? Which one of us fucked up the mission?”

“Obviously you!”

You audibly scoffed. The mission had gone perfectly, minus one tiny little flaw. Neither of you anticipated your getaway car being broken into and stolen. It resulted in a very awkward game of hide and seek, where you both were forced to hide behind a dumpster until someone came to get you. (Ben found the situation hilarious).

Unfortunately for both of you, EJ was the one who was ordered to pick you up. The proxies were used to your and Jeff’s bickering, the three often intervening and picking sides. EJ on the other hand was more reserved, always silently observing and thinking. The final piece to the tragic puzzle, were the three days spent tracking down said car to cover your tracks. In recent years Slender had become more insistent on being careful, making sure no traces of creeps were left behind. With EJ’s sense of smell it wasn’t hard to find the thief, just time consuming.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy torching the car and watching it be engulfed into flames. What you didn’t enjoy, was quite literally everything else. Including the long car ride back to the mansion, which included both you and Jeff sharing the backseat. Originally you both had fought over the passenger seat, EJ quick to manhandle the both of you into the backseat by force. Now you were forced in a confided space with your arch nemesis, one who had came in you days prior.

“I’m not the one who decided to finger paint blood on the wall. Maybe if we had saved the arts and crafts bullshit we’d still have a fucking car,” You argued. You were both still covered in dry blood, exhausted, and filthy. Every ounce of energy you had left was dedicated to spiting at each other. “EJ are you hearing this shit? The whole go to sleep thing is kinda my thing. Not my fault you weren’t clever enough to come up with a signature,” Jeff debated. EJ sighed, ignoring the both of you as he continued driving down the dimly lit road.

“Yeah I can tell your signature was made when you were fourteen. It screams edgy preteen,” You spat, crossing your arms. You looked out of the window, sick of seeing Jeff’s face. You hated how he made you feel. So angry. So vulnerable. It was like he could see right through you, both of you apart of the same parting glass. “I’m not the one who got horny mid mission,” Jeff grumbled. You shot daggers at him with your firey gaze as you turned your head. “What the fuck did you just say?” You asked. Jeff matched your energy, both of you meeting halfway. “I think you heard me loud and clear doll face,” He snickered.

“I will throw you out of this moving car Jeffrey,” You growled. Jeff came closer, your faces an inch apart. “Yeah? I’d like to see you try-” He began, both of you flying forward against the seats in front of you. EJ had slammed on the brakes, the car coming to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. “Will you two shut the fuck up? You are driving me nuts! Either fuck, get married, or kill each other. Pick one. Or you know what? Fuck it. Maybe do all three. In that order. Just shut the fuck up!” EJ yelled. Jack was never the violent or expressive type, not in your experience. You’d never heard him mumble more than four sentences before.

You picked yourself up off of the floorboard, trying to look proper as you resumed your position in your seat. Jeff did the same, watching as EJ slowly turned back around. He shook his head, slowly pressing his foot on the gas. “We did fuck, just to be clear,” Jeff clarified. You screeched in horror. “Jeff?! What the fuck?” You said, slapping his arm. Jeff rolled his eyes. “Cmon dude it’s fucking EJ. If anyone understands the primal fucking thing it’s him,” He said, pointing at the demon in question. Jack slammed on the brakes once again, your head hitting the seat in front of you this time.

“I’m getting out of the car. Get your energy out by fucking or killing each other, I don’t care which. Just let me know when you’re done,” EJ grumbled, undoing his seatbelt. You reached over the seat and grabbed his arm. You wanted nothing more than to go home and shower. And if you had to shut Jeff up to do it, you would. “We’ll figure it out and leave you out of it. Okay? Please take us home,” You say softly. Out of all of the mansions residents, Jack probably bothered you the least. Most of the time he kept himself wrapped up in his medical lab. You only really saw him when one of the proxies needing stitching up, EJ taking pride in the one thing he considered himself to be good at.

Jack sighed, not saying anything but beginning to drive the car again. “Look at you getting all soft on EJ. You gonna beg him to fuck you too?” Jeff huffed, jealousy radiating off of his skin. You turned to him, climbing over him and straddling his lap. Your hand flew to his throat, squeezing the sides like your life depended on it. “If you keep yapping we are never going to get home. Shut up,” You snarled. You could feel Jeff’s cock grow hard underneath you, your eyebrows raising. “Say please and i’ll shut up,” Jeff said, his voice husky. You couldn’t decide if it was because of his lust or lack of an airway.

You most certainly did not want to say please to Jeff of all people, but you did want to get home. More than anything. You slowly lowered your hips, grinding against Jeff’s aching boner. “Please,” You say softly, meeting his obsidian eyes. The pale killer quickly flipped you over, planting his lips on yours. You could hardly process your back hitting the backseat, the air being knocked out of your lungs. You struggled to keep up with his frantic kisses, as if he just couldn’t get enough of you. His pale hands slipped under your shirt, squeezing your mounds of needy flesh.

You let out a small groan, Jeff’s obsidian eyes temporarily torn away from you. “EJ if I catch you looking back here i’ll scoop out your eyes,” Jeff threatened. There was a brief silence in the car, before Jack turned on his blinker to turn. “I don’t have eyes Jeff,” He replied blandly. Jeff squeezed at your breast harder, the pain making you squirm. “Yeah yeah you get the point,” Jeff barked. He smashed his lips back onto yours, your fingers desperately fiddling with his jeans. “That desperate huh doll?” He snickered. You rolled your eyes, Jeff forcing a groan from your lips as his finger toyed with your nipple.

“Thats it, such pretty noises. Let it all out,” He mocked. He helped you shove off his jeans, his hand grasping his hard cock. Jeff buried his head in your neck, sucking and lapping at your sensitive skin. The two of you were whimpering messes, completely forgetting Jack was even there. “Don’t leave marks you asshole,” You whined, your hips rolling upwards. Jeff grinned devilishly as he released your neck with a pop. “Little too late. Good luck explaining that,” He argued. You ran your thumb over his slit, the pale killer above letting out a groan. You grabbed him by his hoodie, changing the position.

Jeff sat upwards in the backseat, watching as you scrubbed your blood soaked scrubs off. You straddled Jeff, melting into the kiss as his large hands grabbed your ass. You hated how good he made you feel. His wet you got from his touch and degrading words. How divine it felt that your slick was rubbing up and down his hard cock, and all you could want was more. He slapped your ass harshly, your whine quickly swallowed by his eager lips. You hovered over his cock, before slowly sinking down onto it. You let out a string of curses, a cocky smirk dancing across Jeff’s lips.

“Go on, let EJ know how good I made you feel,” Jeff purred. Your right hand flew to his neck, choking the sides as you sank down lower onto his cock. “Shut the fuck up Jeffrey,” You argued weakly. Your walls spasmed as you struggled to accommodate his size, your drenched cunt pulling him in. Jeff’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as you choked him, the pale killer in more pleasure than he’d let on. “Look at Jeff EJ, look at how much of a pathetic fucktoy he is for me,” You huffed. You sank fully into his cock, the two of you breathing heavily as you finally made eye contact. Jeff’s hand brought itself to your throat, the two of you choking the other.

“Get on with it or i’ll bend you over and give Jacky a real show,” Jeff threatened weakly. You rose your hips, before rolling them back down on his cock. You both let out a unison of groans, your body beginning to ride his shaft faster. You released his throat, grabbing handfuls of his hoodie to maintain balance. “F-fuck Jeff,” You whined. His cock was abusing your g spot perfectly, your body on cloud nine. Jeff released your throat, bringing his large hand to your cheek. “Thats it doll, keep making that stupid fucked out face of yours,” He huffed. His other hand strayed from your ass, slithering to your clit. He began to draw slow circles, your brain turning to mush.

“Fucking hell- please go faster,” You pleaded. Jeff brought his forehead to yours, the two of you moaning in unison as you shamelessly rode his cock. Your knuckles were turning white from gripping his hoodie so hard. It was then the killer began fucking up into you, your moans becoming louder and unhinged. “Jeff! Shit!” You moaned. Jeff stroked your cheek with his thumb, the loving action almost making you furrow your eyebrows in questioning. But he seemed content and you couldn’t deny your enjoyment. “I hate you Jeffrey Woods,” You hissed, hating the way your body was reacting to his.

“I hate you more dollface,” He seethed, both of his hands grabbing your waist. Jeff gripped your waist so tightly you knew you’d have bruises in the morning. “I hate the air you breathe,” You argued. Jeff’s thrust into you, knocking your next insult out of your lungs. “Yeah? I hate how good you feel wrapped around my cock,” Jeff panted. You could feel the cord in your stomach tightening, your thighs beginning to shake. You brought your fingers down to your clit, circling the sensitive bud as Jeff rammed into you. “I hate you,” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure.

Jeff grabbed your throat, forcing you to look at him as you both reached your highs. “I hate you too, slut,” He spat. His words sent you over the edge, your walls spasming around his cock as you came. “Jesus fuck, it’s like you’re milking me,” He groaned, cumming deep inside of your cunt. You both panted in unison, trying to come down from your highs. Exhausted, you rested your head against Jeff’s shoulder.

Jacks voice was the next thing you heard as you came down, “You two need fucking therapy.”

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: After an argument with you, Simon feels a deep sense of remorse for the pain he caused and the distance he has created between himself and you. He proposes watching a movie together as a way to reconcile however, during the movie, Simon notices that you were zoning out. And when confronted, you burst into tears and reveal deep-seated emotions that you have been keeping to yourself.

C/W: Angst + hurt w/ comfort !! mentions of alcohol (drinking), offensive languages, mentions of overthinking for reader, both parties are hurt 'nd crying

W/C: 3.5k bubs

The silence was almost unbearable as you sat alone in the dimly lit living room, feeling increasingly claustrophobic. The weight of Simon's words hung in the air, making you feel like you couldn't catch your breath.

The room felt cold, the air thick with your tension. You tried to breathe deeply, filling your lungs with oxygen in hopes that it would calm the pounding of your heart. But it was no use.

You were trapped. Trapped in the silence, trapped in the aftermath of the argument.

You couldn't shake the feeling that this was all your fault. Maybe if you hadn't said anything, or if you had just kept your mouth shut, things wouldn't have escalated like they did.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you fought back the urge to cry again.

This wasn't how your night was supposed to go.

The pain in your heart was all too real, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. You wanted to scream, to cry, to let go of the emotions, but you couldn't.

Instead, you lay on the couch, your body motionless except for the tears running down your face.

"Can you just stop being a bother?"

Exhaused. You felt so exhausted that you find that sleeping right now would've sufficed your hurt. Even if the tears would have left dry tear marks in the early morning when you get up.

Your thoughts raced, your mind filled with the sound of Simon's words, replaying over and over again like a broken record.

"I didn't even ask for any of these."

You couldn't stop obsessing over what he'd said, what he'd meant, whether or not he meant it. All you knew was that the hurt was too much to bear.

Until your body had enough.

After taking a moment to process what had just happened, you felt... numb. Your breaths came slowly and evenly, your eyes no longer brimming with tears, and your hiccups no longer piercing the silence of the room.

You sighed and sat up properly on the couch, rubbing your eyes as you tried to banish the images of Simon's anger from your mind.

You decided to distract yourself by focusing on the task at hand: cleaning up the living room from the party's remnants. You made your way over to the coffee table, picking up the empty plates, the two drinks for you and Simon, and the now cold popcorn.

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar scent of butter and salt waft up from the table, and started to gather everything up.

As you worked, you couldn't help but think about what Simon was up to in the bedroom. You didn't want to know, but the silence was deafening, and you couldn't help but wonder.

'Maybe he's finally sleeping...' you sincerely thought.

After cleaning up the living room, you made your way to the kitchen, your feet dragging against the hardwood floor with each step. You opened the fridge and grabbed a light alcohol, pouring yourself a glass as you made your way to the countertop.

You sat down, swirling the liquid around in the glass, then taking a slow sip. The familiar taste of alcohol burned in your throat, sending a shiver down your spine.

You closed your eyes, feeling the headache coming on, and massaged your temples. Your mind felt tired, your body felt heavy, and all you wanted to do was slip into bed and sleep.

You took another small sip and sighed, feeling a little bit better as the alcohol began to take effect.

Suddenly, a hand gently touched your arm, making you jump. "What-" you muttered to yourself.

You turned to face Simon, who was standing behind you. He looked exhausted, with red eyes and bags under them. He couldn't look at you in your eyes after that and so he resorted to lean himself closer to you when he noticed that you eased your body to him, obviously calm with him touching you after the argument you guys had.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to say those things. I was just so angry, and I didn't think about how much they would hurt you."

His voice cracked as he spoke, and you could feel the sincerity in his words. You could also feel your heart breaking all over again at the thought of the things he had said, even though it was clear that he was truly sorry.

"I know it doesn't make it right, but I just wanted to apologize," he continued, his tone softer than you've ever heard before. "I shouldn't have let my anger get the better of me like that."

Despite your hurt, you found yourself nodding. "It's alright, Si'." You replied, eyes averting away from him. With a sigh, you took a sip from your glass. "Everyone has their moments, hun."

"Can we just start over?" he asked gently, reaching out to touch your hand. "I'm sorry, I... I just want us to be happy..."

Your gaze met his, and even though it was filled with regret and remorse, you could still see the love and care in his eyes. You knew that he meant every word he said, and that he would do anything to make things right between the two of you.

"I'm..." You said softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "willing to try, sweetheart..."

As you sat beside Simon, taking in his words of apology, you felt a pit form in the bottom of your stomach. You had wanted to hear those words from him for so long, to know that he was truly remorseful for the pain he had caused you.

But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn't quite escape the feeling of hurt that still lingered.

"I'm willing to try, for us." You continued so softly, your voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. "I know it takes a lot to admit when you're wrong, and I appreciate you doing that."

You reached out, taking hold of his hand in yours, trying to convince yourself that everything was going to be okay. But deep down, you still felt the pain of his words, and you weren't sure if you could ever truly forgive him.

"I can't deal with this right now."

You had buried your true feelings deep inside, hiding them in the dark, just for his comfort. And in that moment, you didn't know which way was up.

Just for his comfort? What about yours?

The silence stretched between you and Simon, a small part of you wanting him to say something to make it better, to make it all go away. But he merely looked at you, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice filled with sincerity. "I know it won't be easy, but I'm ready to do whatever it takes to make things right between us over and over again."

You wanted to believe him, to feel the hope and love that you had once shared. You really do.

But the pain still lingered, a constant reminder of the broken promises and the tears that had come before.

You sat in silence for a few moments, processing Simon's phrases. His words sounded sincere, and you wanted to believe that he was genuinely sorry for the hurt he caused you.

But you can't shake the feeling that you may never be able to fully forgive him.

Simon reached out and took your hand in his, and you couldn't help but notice the warmth in his touch. His voice was steady, soft, with a hint of tenderness that sent shivers down your shoulders.

"Say, love?" He called out to you. "Do you want to go and have that movie night again? 2.0?"

You were caught off guard by the proposal, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I..."

You had been expecting to spend the evening alone, nursing your wounds and attempting to forget the hurt in your heart. The thought of going back to that place was excruciating, but the look on Simon's face was one of pure determination.

He wanted to make it up to you, and he was willing to do whatever it took. You hesitated before speaking, not wanting to give in to the emotions that were racing through your mind.

"Do you really want to?" You asked, turning your face away from him as tears began to form at the corners of your eyes.

You had been trying so hard to stay strong, but your heart ached with the realization that you still loved him, despite the hurt and betrayal.

'God, were you just so pathetic.' A voice in your head echoed.

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied, his tone gentle and full of affection. "I want to make it up to you. Please, let me prove it to you."

Despite your doubts and insecurities, you nodded slowly, allowing yourself to be overcome by the overwhelming love you felt for him.

"Let's do it," You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

You can't believe it, can't believe that you would really put him first than yourself. You can't believe that you considered the proposal just because Simon's words and actions spoke volumes to you.

You could see the determination in his eyes, and the way he looked at you made your heart ache. You had been so torn apart by his previous actions, the thought of him trying to make it up to you and showing he cared about you brought you even more glumness.

You watch as Simon's face broke into a wide smile, and he reached out to take your hand again, exclaiming, "Fantastic! You won't regret it, love. Let's make it the best movie night we've ever had!"

The movie became a haze, and you barely spoke a word, lost in the emotions that were running through you as you sought out comfort in the awkward room.

Save from Simon's often comments about the movie, it was just your thoughts swimming around. It was quiet. It was making you feel self-conscious.

But you wouldn't want to upset him, god, was it so wholesome trying his best to make it up to you. You couldn't afford to do something that might impact this negatively. So you stayed quiet, only answering in small replies to his comments about the movie.

Even though you were with Simon, you felt like you were alone. You were battling thoughts and feelings that would take over if you let them. But you were holding on for Simon, not wanting to break what you guys have in this moment.

You appreciated his efforts but it was hard to forget what happened. You wanted to let it go but it was still so fresh and raw.

The silence was deafening but you didn't want to break it with how you were feeling. You were still processing what happened and didn't want to burden Simon anymore than he already was. So you stayed quiet, watching the movie with Simon and trying to distract yourself from your thoughts.

So you sat silently next to Simon, watching the movie in front of you as he blabbered on and on about the movie. At this point, you don't even give a shit at watching it anymore.

You tried not to let your thoughts wander to the things that were weighing on your mind, not wanting to ruin the peaceful moment. It was so hard to keep up the façade, though.

You knew that if you let even a little of the sadness seep through, it would be so hard to keep it all contained in the face of his concern. It was so nice to have him by your side, but the thought of him seeing how much you were hurting just made everything worse.

So you stayed quiet, trying to keep your emotions in check. Then, you felt a lump forming in your throat. You were unsure of how to move forward from here.

And what will happen onwards? Like nothing had happened?

Suddenly, the silence was broken by Simon's voice. "Hey," he muttered, his eyes fixed on you now. "What's wrong?"

You swallowed hard, feeling your emotions welling up inside. "It's nothing," You dryly replied. "I just zoned out is all."

You wanted to tell him how much his words had hurt, but the words refused to come. Instead, you just sat there in silence, staring at the floor, your heart pounding in your chest.

Simon seemed to sense your discomfort, and his expression softened. "I know I have a lot of things to work on," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I promise I'm going to do better. For you."

His words seemed to fall flat against your ears, almost lost in the overwhelming pain you felt. You wanted to believe him, to believe that things could get better, but a part of you was still unsure.

The silence filled the room again, thick with the weight of your emotions. You wanted to say something, to tell him how you felt, but you just couldn't. Instead, you remained there, silent, feeling the loneliness settle around you like a blanket.

Tears started to well up in your eyes as the words and emotions started to bubble up from inside you. You tried to hold back the tears, but they just kept overflowing, streaming down your face.

"Simon," you managed to say through choked sobs, the words barely intelligible. "I don't know how to say this, but I just can't keep it all inside any longer. You've hurt me so much earlier, over and over again. And I know I've probably hurt you too, but it's just that I can't seem to fix it. I feel like I've tried everything, but nothing works."

Your voice was shaking with emotion as you spoke, the words coming out like a river. You weren't sure if Simon was listening, but you kept talking anyway, the tears streaming down your face.

"I feel so hopeless," you managed to utter, the words catching in your throat. "I don't know if we can ever make this work. But I love you so much, Simon, and I want to try. I want to try so hard, because I know there's something between us that's worth fighting for. I just don't know what to do. I don't know anymore."

The silence filled the room again, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. You were left feeling vulnerable and exposed, with nowhere to hide.

You continued to say how you felt, the pain in your heart pouring out with every word.

You told Simon about how much his words had hurt you, how his refusal to listen to your thoughts and feelings made you feel like a burden to him. You couldn't help but wonder what you had done wrong to deserve such treatment.

As you talked, the tears fell from your eyes, each one representing the pain that you had been holding inside for so long. As you cried, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, a weight that had been dragging you down for far too long.

"I've been trying so hard to show you how much I care," you sobbed. "I don't know why it's not enough. What else can I do to make you see me? To make you understand that I love you, and that I'll do anything to make this work?"

As you finished speaking, you fell silent, the tears still streaming down your face. The room was filled with a heavy silence, the only sound the soft sob of your breath. You felt a sense of exhaustion wash over you, as if all the emotions you had been holding back had finally been released.

The silence continued to fill the room, and for a moment it seemed as though time itself had stopped. Neither of you spoke, and it was as though the weight of your words hung in the air between you.

After what felt like an eternity, Simon reached out and took your hand. His touch was warm and comforting, and it seemed as though some part of him understood the pain that you were feeling.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to hurt you like that. I just got caught up in my own thoughts, forgetting how important you are to me- which is a pretty damn shit move. I'm really sorry, darlin'."

You looked up at him, tears still streaming down your face. You wanted to believe him, to believe that he truly understood the pain that you were feeling. But you couldn't shake the fear that it was all just a temporary moment of kindness, and that soon enough he would go back to treating you the way he had before.

You didn't want to get hurt again, but you couldn't help but hope that this time might be different.

Maybe this time, he truly did understand...

Simon reached out and gently wiped away your tears, his touch providing a small measure of comfort.

You watch as tears pooled into his eyes too, but he still continued, "You're not a burden, my love, and you never have been. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I'm the fucking asshole here. I want to show you that.. that I can make things right."

Simon's voice was hoarse with emotion as he spoke, his words barely above a whisper. He couldn't believe what he'd done to you, how he'd hurt the person he loved the most. He hated himself for the pain he'd caused, and he cursed himself out for not being able to do better.

As you watched, tears pooled into his eyes as well, his emotions rising to the surface. But despite the pain he was feeling, he was determined to make things right. His love for you was stronger than any mistake he could make.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "You deserve so much more than what I've given you. I want to make things right, to show you that I love you, more than anything else."

His words seemed to echo in the room, filling the space between you with all the love and guilt that Simon was feeling in that moment. You watched as he wiped away his own tears, his determination burning bright in his eyes.

For a moment, there was silence, as you both stared at each other, overwhelmed with the weight of everything that had been said and done. But then, slowly, you reached out and took his hand in yours, and you knew that despite everything, you were both willing to fight for your love, to make things work.

You felt a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he truly did mean it this time. Maybe, despite the hurt and disappointment of the past, there was a chance for something better.

"I believe you," you said softly. "But I need you to show me. I need you to put in the effort... to try."

As you finished speaking, Simon could only watch as tears continued to stream down your face. The guilt and remorse weighing heavily on his shoulders was almost too much to bear.

How could he have let you down like this, after all you had done for him? After everything you guys had been through together?

He wanted nothing more than to turn back the clock and make everything right, to show you that you meant more to him than anything else in the world. But he knew that it would take more than just words to convince you that he was telling the truth.

Simon would have to show you with his actions, prove to you that he truly was committed to making this relationship work.

"I promise," He said through gritted teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. "I promise to do whatever it takes to make this work, to show you that I love you no matter what. I'm sorry, my love, sorry for all the pain I've caused you. Fuckin' hell... I'm going to make things right, I promise you."

As he spoke, his resolve only grew stronger, his determination stronger than ever.

"Don't cry anymore, pretty girl."

He might not deserve your forgiveness, but he was going to do damn everything to earn it. Even if it meant fighting tooth and nail, even if meant facing his greatest fears and demons.

Because in the end, you were all that mattered to him. And Simon would do whatever it took to mend this relationship.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders.

A/N: now that we've made up, i can now sleep peacefully 🙏🙏 i hope you’ve all been enjoying the second part of this. i have to say though,, your support and enthusiasm has been overwhelming, and it means the world to me to know that you’re all enjoying my work <//3 this has been the heaviest fic ive ever written holy shit. listening to nbhd songs to this, esp this playlist, is such a vibe !! i couldnt stop rereading all this and crying my ass off on repeat 😘😘

special mentions <//3 . @mockerycrow @pandoramyst @monanight @casualunknownrunaway @invaderzim13 @xsoftdead18 @colorfulbanditempathhero-blog @aliilium @rhyanna6012 @ghostlythots @duskwo0d @b1rds3ye [ thank you guys for loving this lil silly fic of mine and for the supports, really, i am like so over the moon that y'all liked it ! thank you so much for your patience and support while waiting for the p2. i'm so grateful that you've been willing to stick with it, and i really appreciate all the comments you've given me along the way. i rlly hope this brings you all the comfort you guys were looking <3 ]

[lethalchiralium]

Mirrorball | John Price x F!Reader

a/n: me?? posting??? in this economy?? unheard of. this is definitely not me writing needy price whaaaat

warnings: mentions of injury, trauma

summary: You’re trying to sleep, but someone wakes you up with a long awaited phone call. OR, John’s outside of your door, begging for forgiveness.

It was a work day tomorrow and someone had the audacity to call you in the middle of the night. Your eyes tried to blink away the murkiness of sleep as you answered the call, not even paying attention to the ‘Unknown Caller’ blinking at the top of the screen.

“Hey.”

Your head fell back into your pillow, your hand holding your phone to your ear.

“Yes, John.”

“Don’t be that way.”

Your hand gripped your phone a little more, now that you were waking up more.

“Well, seeing that it’s…” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the time on the screen, “2:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, you’re only calling ‘cause you’re bored.”

There was a scoff on the line. “Why can’t you just accept that maybe I’m worried about you?”

Your eyes were still closed, your eyebrows furrowed and you mumbled, “Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.”

There was silence. Just the warmth that flooded through your chest every time you heard his low breathing; a signal, a waypoint, your reminder that no matter how much you want to turn away, there’s no escape from your desperate need for John Price. Your fingernails dug into your pillowcase, tears that have broken glass now soak the silk underneath your head. You could almost smell the rich tobacco that seemed to envelop his clothes and his worn skin - he was the feeling of sunlight reflected on shattered glass. Shining just for you.

You could imagine his hand curling your hair behind your ear, his soft lips pressing kisses into your hairline, your shoulder, your spine. You had memorized the way his hand would gently graze over your side, featherlight movement as he would whisper his promises, his mantras, but ignore your desires.

“M’here.”

Even in your half-asleep state, you felt a rush of confusion.

“You were in Afghanistan last night.”

“I lied.”

“You seem to do that often, John.”

Silence again. Your eyes opened to your dimly light room, the small light plugged into your wall helped you make out everything in your room. The jacket of his that still was tossed over the back of your favorite chair, most of his clothes hung in your closet - deep browns and dreary grays that were pressed against your bright blues, greens, and yellows. His breathtaking fiancé dressed in all of the colors that made you feel happy - but all were a farce, a lie wrapped up in a fairy tale. You weren’t happy. How could you be happy when your whole world decided to break your heart?

“Tell me what you want or I’m hanging up, John. I mean it.”

Silence. You could hear the quiet bustle of Liverpool outside your window, the street lamp’s warm light hidden by your dark curtains. Curtains he used to move at this time of night to open your window, he would burn the end of his cigar and watch the city lights.

Now, he stood outside your front door, without even a knock.

“What I did to you wasn’t right, I knew that then and I know that now. Screaming at you and telling you I never wanted to see you again was the biggest mistake of my life. I love you. And love isn’t supposed to be like that. I-I was… I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared of what you think of me, I was scared of what almost happened to me, I’m terrified to lose you.”

“Stop.”

“Please. I’m here.”

“What do you want, John?”

“I want come home.“

Another pause.

“Please let me in.”

Your stomach lurched.

You hated that you sat up, lethargic body dragged behind your mind as you silently made your way to your front door; cold phone pressed to your ear. He was a warm light, you were like a late night moth - hearing the familiar hum of one John Price.

“I’ll do anything, love. Please.”

You stretched your arms as you stood on your tallest tip toes, it reminded you of spinning on your highest heels, just for him. You could remember his hands, gentle on your hand and waist as he had laughed deeply in that ballroom all those years ago. The way his touch never differed from anything gentle or soft, even as he held your hips in late nights, pulling loud moans and cries from you as he fucked you passionately. The way he whispered your name like gospel as you sobbed into his chest. It was impossible to forget what he’s done for you - and what actions he made that caused you pain.

He was made of a broken spotlight, his light reflected on you. Your mirror pieces had fell long ago, your fingers still bleed from picking up your shards, from pressing them into place so when he came around, you would reflect his slowly dimming light just like a mirror ball.

Your hand pulled open the door, gazing at the man you so painstakingly loved - face dirty, scarf disheveled around his neck, beanie snug on his head. You didn’t care that his rough hands gripped your hips, metaphorically pressing in the glass shards like always. He pulled you to him, your face landed in his scarf as he wrapped you in his freezing embrace. You moved to rest your chin on top of the scratchy wool, your lips right next to his ear.

“Are you hurt?”

He walked both of you into the apartment, skillfully kicking the door closed as he held you tighter. A fist on your lower back, a steel grip on your shoulder as his nose was firmly pressed into your (bonnet/hair). You could feel his chest, how it didn’t dare expand - he was holding his breath. As if he let you slip, that the mirrorball he adored would shatter into a thousand pieces. Your hand pushed into the back of his ribcage, moving in soothing circles.

“Breathe, John.”

You expected a harsh exhale, something loud in your ear, but all you received was a soft sigh through his nose. The freezing clothes that clung to him began to warm, his heartbeat erratic - you could feel it in his back, right behind his heart.

“Are you hurt?” You asked again.

He didn’t answer, silence was his weapon of choice now. He was full of words on the phone, telling you things you wished to hear earlier - oh shit, your phone. The phone you dropped on the floor before opening the door, hopefully it wasn’t broken. You had so many of him on there. So many photos of him hanging off your arm, lips pressed against your soft skin, eyes gazing lovingly at you.

“What do you need?”

You need me. I know you like the back of my hand.

That’s when he let go, pulling away from you to show fresh tears on his flushed face. Your eyes widened with concern, you tried to reach his face but his hands intercepted yours - holding them with a firm grip.

“I don’t need you to forgive me.” His voice was melancholy, a melody of grief and fear that you had never heard before. “I am an awful man. Rubbish. I hurt the one good thing in my life because I thought you hating me would be easier for me to die with.”

Your stomach coiled up into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.

Your fiancé held back a sob as he spoke, “I got hit. I almost died, all I could think about was how much you would hate yourself because I made you hate me. I don’t want that. I want to be by your side forever, I want you to put me in my place, I want you to take everything from me because I am not worthy of anything without you.” His hands squeezed yours. “I want to lay beside you for as long as I live. I want to only know you for the rest of my life. I want to do everything you ask of me.”

“What do you need, John?” Your voice softer than ever before.

He blinked away tears. “I need you to teach me how to truly be a better man. I need you to guide me. I need you to love me. I need you.”

You had told yourself a thousand times that he would never crawl on his knees to you, that his pride would destroy you, that he would never show weakness to you - but here he was. Showing his belly, giving you the chance to deliver the final blow.

You supposed he was waiting for it. Waiting for your teeth to sink in and rip him apart like a chew toy, scream at him until your voice ran hoarse, push him away until he fell onto his ass. But… you couldn’t. You were ready to walk away from him ten minutes ago, but now it’s… terrifying. Walking away from the one thing keeping you whole.

You squeezed his hands. “Marry me, John Price.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he was about to question you. But you spoke again. “Marry me today and show me that all that you said was a promise.”

He didn’t nod for long as he let go of your hands, grabbed your face and kissed you - pushing your head backwards as he pressed his entire body to you. You didn’t care anymore if he cut himself on your glass, you were sure he would fix the edge just to keep you happy.

Keep you spinning like his favorite mirrorball, shining just for him.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Snow Angel

Pretty Girls

Leah Williamson x Reader Warnings: Abusive relationship

The following weeks were a tightrope walk for Leah. Every glance from you sent shivers down her spine, every shared practice session felt charged with unspoken desire. Yet, you remained resolutely distant, the playful banter and lingering touches a distant memory. 

It was Arsenal's annual winter gala, with players from both men's and women's joined by their families to celebrate the teams past and present. Forced to sit at the same table together, the tension between You and Leah crackled.

The breaking point came later in the night after dinner when most of the guest's had moved to the dance floor. Alcohol, usually a social lubricant, only served to loosen inhibitions. As the laughter died down, Leah, emboldened by a few glasses of wine, turned to You.

You watched as Evan wrapped his hands around some random girl before turning back to the table only to be met by Leah's stare.

"So, about that night..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

Your face drained of colour. You quickly turned your head back to the dance floor eyes scanning for Evan.

"Leah please, not here."

Leah let out an annoyed huff, "When then because you do nothing but ignore me."

You reached for her hand squeezing it "Please Le."

Leah looked at you confused at your desperation for her to drop the topic, but just as she opened her mouth to ask Evan wrapped his hand around your upper arm pulling you out of your seat. "Come on babe, dance with me."

You turned back to Leah mouthing later before turning to smile at Evan.

Leah watched, a bitter taste coating her tongue, as you were swept away by Evan's confident grin. The night, once filled with the promise of a resolution, felt like it was crumbling around her.

Across the table, her teammates were lost in their own conversations, oblivious to the storm brewing within Leah. Anger, laced with a fresh dose of hurt, bubbled up. She'd taken a risk, exposed herself, and you'd shut her down again.

As the night dragged on Leah decided she had enough, she was done waiting for you to come to her with an answer.

Spotting you and Evan standing at the bar laughing so happy and care free Leah decided it was now or never.

Ignoring the concerned glances shot her way by her teammates, Leah pushed her chair back from the table with a scraping sound that cut through the chatter. Her heart hammered a furious tattoo against her ribs as she navigated the throng of bodies towards the bar.

Leah grabbed your arm turning you slightly. "We need to talk about that night Y/n, I can't go on like this anymore."

Evan turned looking at you both confused.

"What night, Leah?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

The room held its breath. Leah could back out, pretend it was nothing, but the lie choked her.

"The night at my place," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "The night you, uh, crashed there after the club." Her glare dared Y/n to contradict her.

Y/n's gaze flickered between Leah and Evan, shame and panic warring on her face. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible.

"Evan, I..." You couldn't find the words unable to wrap your head around what was happening, Leah was doing this now, to get back at you for ignoring her.

The air hung heavy as your voice trailed off. The revelation hung in the room like a thunderclap, electrifying everyone within earshot. Evan's confusion morphed into a scowl as he looked at you, his hold tightening on your arm possessively.

Leah, despite her anger, felt a pang of guilt at the naked betrayal reflected in your eyes. Maybe this public outing wasn't the best course of action, but the hurt and confusion had driven her to a corner.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the murmur of shocked whispers from onlookers. Your teammates at your table shot worried glances your way, the playful atmosphere of the night now replaced with a tense curiosity.

Suddenly, a new voice cut through the tension. "What's going on here?" It was Kim, your captain, standing tall beside Leah with a concerned frown etched on her face.

Now, all eyes were on you. You could lie, fabricate some story to appease everyone. But the truth, however messy, loomed large. You took a deep breath, stealing a glance at Leah's pained expression. This wouldn't be easy for either of you.

"It's...complicated," you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "The night Leah mentioned...we did share a moment, but..." You hesitated, unsure how to explain the confusing dance you'd been doing with your feelings.

"But...?" Evan prompted, his grip on your arm tightening even further. You winced at the pressure, the situation escalating with every passing second.

Taking another steadying breath, you finally decided on honesty, however brutal it might be. "Evan," you began, your voice gaining strength, "we're not...together. We never were." You turned to Leah, your eyes pleading for understanding. "And what happened that night...it shouldn't have happened."

A collective gasp rippled through the room. The carefully constructed facade of your relationship with Evan crumbled before your eyes. Shame burned hot on your cheeks, but you pushed on, determined to finally clear the air.

"Leah and I..." you started, then paused, searching for the right words. "We care about each other, but it's complicated. There were feelings, a moment of weakness..." You trailed off, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

Leah, seeing your genuine distress, felt her anger begin to simmer down. Maybe public exposure wasn't the best strategy, but at least you were finally being honest. Her gaze locked with yours, a silent plea for understanding passing between you.

Before you could continue, Evan yanked his arm free, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You mean to tell me this whole time..." he spat, his voice thick with anger, but before he could finish his tirade, Kim stepped forward.

"Enough, Evan," she said, her voice firm and authoritative. "This isn't the time or place. Let's all take a step back and cool down."

Evan shook his head, "No we're leaving."

You tried to stop him "Evan, please let's just talk about it here, sort it out here."

Evan pushed his hands through his hair "Don't you think you have embarrassed me enough in front of all your friends tonight, we are leaving."

The air crackled with tension as Evan stormed away, dragging you who looked to Leah with what seemed to be a pleading look etched across your face.

Kim placed a hand on Leah's shoulder, her gaze laced with concern. "Are you alright, Le?" she asked gently. Leah shook her head brushing off the captain's hand "I'm going home, I'm sorry."

Leah is lying asleep in bed hours later when her doorbell goes off, she tosses slightly ignoring it hoping sleep will welcome her back when it goes off again.

huffing Leah tosses her duvets aside, before trudging down the stairs and swinging the door open angrily.

"What." Leah goes to give out to whoever has found themselves on her doorstep this late at night but the words die in her throat.

In the doorway, you're standing there shaking a dishevelled, your eyes red-rimmed and hair windblown. Dress torn, a bruise beginning to form on your cheekbone, a busted lip and a shiner coming through on your left eye.

Leah's heart lurched. The anger that had fueled her earlier actions evaporated, replaced by a cold dread. You were a mess, a physical manifestation of the chaos she'd helped create.

"Y/N?" Your name came out in a choked whisper.

You swayed slightly, before You flinched, as if expecting a slap instead. "Leah," you croaked, your voice hoarse. "I...Leah...please...let me in."

There was no room for judgment now. You needed help, a safe haven. Stepping aside, Leah ushered you in, the late-night chill clinging to your clothes a stark contrast to the warmth of her house.

The public humiliation you'd both endured at the gala paled in comparison to the violence simmering on her doorstep. Her anger towards you was forgotten, replaced by a surge of protectiveness.

"Come in," she rasped, stepping aside to usher you both into the house.

You stumbled slightly, leaning heavily on the doorframe for support. Leah quickly reached out, a hesitant hand hovering near your arm. You flinched again, but this time, it seemed to be more out of pain than fear.

Taking a deep breath, Leah swallowed her reservations. "Let's get you cleaned up first," she said, her voice firm but laced with concern.

You offered a weak nod, leaning on her as she guided you further into the house. The weight of your body against hers was a stark reminder of the intimacy they'd shared, a stark contrast to the violence you were now escaping.

"Evan..." you manage, voice hoarse. "He...he didn't take the news well."

Your words spark a horrifying image in Leah's mind, as she recounts his forceful grabbing of your arm over the night.

You winced as her hand came towards your face looking to clean your lip. Leah began to remember all the previous times you had winced at a hand being raised towards you and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her next question.

"Did he…?" she started, then stopped. How to phrase the question delicately, when all she wanted to scream was, "Is this the first time done this?"

You seemed to understand her unspoken question. Shame flickered in your eyes before you dropped them to your hands.

The air hung heavy with the unspoken truth. Leah bit her lip, the concern for your well-being warring with a fresh wave of shame.

"Was this..." she started, her voice barely a whisper, "the reason you were hesitant with me? Because of him?"

You looked down at your feet, avoiding her gaze. A small, defeated nod escaped your lips.

The confirmation hit Leah like a punch to the gut. All this time, your distance, your mixed signals – it had all been because of Evan's abuse. A part of her wanted to be angry, to rage at you for not confiding in her sooner, but the bigger part ached for you, for the pain you must have endured in silence.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she finally asked, her voice thick with emotion.

You lifted your head, your eyes filled with a vulnerability that ripped at Leah's heart.

"I was scared," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "Scared of him, scared of losing everything – the team, you..."

The raw honesty in your voice resonated with Leah. She understood. The fear of losing everything you'd worked hard for was a powerful motivator, especially in the face of an abuser.

Placing a hand on your arm, this time gently, Leah offered a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now," she said softly. "He can't hurt you here."

The tenderness in her touch sent a wave of warmth through you. Looking into her eyes, you saw not judgment, but a wellspring of concern and a flicker of something more – a hint of the feelings you harboured for her as well.

"Leah I..." you started, your voice trailing off.

Leah squeezed your arm gently. "We can deal with everything else later. Right now, you need to rest and get cleaned up."

There was a silent understanding that bloomed between you. The night's events had irrevocably altered the course of your relationship. The truth, though brutal, had finally been laid bare. Whether there was a future for you and Leah, you didn't know yet. But for now, the solace of her presence, the promise of safety, was all that mattered.

Leah had gotten you up the stairs and to her bedroom before placing you gently on the bed and rushing to get you pyjamas for the night.

"Right, here's the pyjamas, you know where the toilet is eh i'll be in the other room just come wake me if you need me." As Leah began to walk off you grabbed her hand "Le....thank you." how could you ask her to stay after everything, she had opened her home for you, the pain you put her through.

Leah hesitates for a moment, caught between her lingering anger and the vulnerability in your eyes. "You deserve to be safe," she says softly, her eyes filled with concern, before walking out.

The night stretches on, a tangled mess of worry and a strange sense of vulnerability for Leah. She tosses and turns in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. Sleep eludes her, replaced by a constant replay of the night's events.

The image of you, battered and bruised, on her doorstep, had banished any lingering anger Leah felt. Now, a restless worry gnawed at her. Every creak of the floorboards sent her imagination into overdrive, conjuring visions of you tossing and turning in pain.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Leah crept out of her room and padded down the hallway towards yours. The soft glow of the bedside lamp peeked out from under the door, casting a warm rectangle on the floor.

Hesitantly, Leah pushed the door open a crack. You were lying on your back, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. The harsh light accentuated the shadows of your injuries, making them look even worse.

"Can't sleep?" Leah asked softly, the door creaking slightly as she nudged it open further.

You flinched at the sound, your gaze snapping towards her. "Leah," you whispered, relief washing over your face. "I thought you were asleep."

Leah stepped into the room, the concern etched on her face evident in the dim light. "Couldn't," she admitted. "Is everything okay?"

You shook your head, the movement sending a jolt of pain through your throbbing cheek. "Just… thinking."

Leah felt a pang of sympathy. The weight of the night's events must be crushing. Taking a deep breath, she decided to offer some comfort.

"Would you like some company?" she asked gently. "Maybe some tea?"

A flicker of a smile touched your lips. "That would be nice," you rasped.

Leah smiled back, a genuine one this time, relieved to see a hint of your usual spirit flickering back to life. "Alright, I'll be right back."

She scurried out of the room, the sound of her footsteps a comforting rhythm in the quiet night. As she brewed the tea, a warmth spread through Leah's chest – a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot water.

Seeing you so vulnerable, so dependent on her care, had awakened a fierce protectiveness within her. But there was something else too, a deeper emotion that had been simmering beneath the surface all along.

Returning to the room with two steaming mugs, Leah settled on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd you. You reached out, taking the mug from her hand with a grateful smile.

For a while, you both sipped your tea in comfortable silence. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a shared understanding blooming between you.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice still hoarse from the night's events. "Leah, about earlier..."

Leah met your gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. "We can talk about it all in the morning," she interrupted gently. "Right now, you need to rest."

You shook your head. "No Leah...I have to....you deserve to know," you stated your voice thick with emotion.

You picked at your fingers letting out a shaky breath " He was so sweet when I first met him, but it didn't last and I thought that what I had with him was all I was going to have, all I was worth, but then I met you after my transfer and you were so soft and gentle, even as a friend and I found myself falling for you.....I was just so scared to leave him and then.....then that night here with you...Evan..he...I was only ever there for him...for his pleasure but with you....I...You were gentle and loving and...you looked after me and I loved every second of it but felt so heartbroken too because it's all I ever wanted with the girl I dreamed of but I...he scares me....the things he does scares me and it was easier to leave the next morning and ignore you then fall into my feelings because I was terrified of the outcome."

Leah, her heart clenching with every word, listened intently as you poured out your story. The vulnerability in your eyes mirrored the turmoil within her. Here you were, laying bare your soul, and she understood in a way she never had before.

"Leah," you continued, your voice trembling slightly, "I know I messed up. I should have confided in you, but I was afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of what Evan might do."

Leah reached out, her hand hovering gently over yours. "It's okay," she whispered, the words thick with emotion. "I understand."

A tear escaped your eye, tracing a warm path down your cheek. You leaned into her touch, finding a solace you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Can you ever forgive me?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pining. Leah looked into your eyes, searching for the answer within them. The truth was, the anger had faded, replaced by a deep well of empathy and a growing affection for you.

"There's nothing to forgive," she finally said, her voice soft but firm. "You were in a difficult situation, and you did what you had to do to survive."

A tear rolls down your cheek, and you don't bother brushing it away. Relief washes over you, a sense of finally being understood. You take another sip of tea, the warmth spreading through you.

Leah, her heart clenching at your confession, reached out and placed a comforting hand over yours. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You're safe now."

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as the dam of your emotions finally broke. You let out a choked sob, the exhaustion and fear of the night catching up to you. Leah held you close, her embrace a silent promise of safety and support.

As you cried, the story tumbled out – the manipulative games Evan played, the subtle threats that escalated into violence, the isolation that made you feel trapped. Leah listened patiently, her anger towards Evan burning hot alongside her protectiveness of you.

When your sobs subsided, leaving behind a shaky silence, Leah spoke softly. "You're so strong, Y/N," she said, her voice filled with admiration. "For enduring all that, for finally getting away."

You shook your head, a weak smile flickering on your lips. "Strong isn't exactly how I feel right now."

Leah squeezed your hand. "Maybe not. But you were brave. You came here, you faced the truth, and you're starting to heal."

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the quiet sniffles and the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air, a question lingering between you.

Finally, Leah took a deep breath and broke the silence. "What do you want to do now, Y/N?" she asked gently.

You looked at her, your eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. "I...I don't know," you admitted. "All I know is...I don't want to go back to him."

Leah hummed running her fingers through your hair. "I want to be with you...I want to know what it's like to be loved by you."

Leah felt her heart flutter "I'll be happy to show you when your ready."

You turned to face her, your eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and lips "Can...Can i kiss you." Leah quickly nodded before pulling you closer and kissing you.

"Ow." you let out a soft groan at the sting of your lip, "Softer next time please." Leah smiled as you began to laugh "Softer every time."

[nemesyaaa]

do revenge // mean!rafe cameron x camdoll!reader

summary ; you were tired and sick of the hell life the well-known kook prince give you. so after being for so long his favorite victim, you decided to fight back.

warnings : dark content. insecurities. revenge plot. bully!rafe. poker face!rafe. sick behavior and toxic attitude. smut. oral(m. receiving). dollification. blackmailing. dubcon. shitty kooks behavior. bad thoughts. quickly mentions of some kinks. self-justice. pogue/kook hate/unfair dynamic. free hate. masked reader. threatening. power imbalance. baddie attitude. minors dni. please, be careful with the warnings.

author's note : the girl on the gifs is not a faceclaim, it's only to show what kinda mask she wear. it's the first time i think i do something like that so......and it's a one-shot, so it's maybe a little too long 💀

you worked as a waitress in a small restaurant. you hated this job but you had to make money and today the place was a little empty so you thought you could relax but that was before Rafe showed up with his gang of kooks. you had started shaking as soon as you saw them. you felt so small and trapped, your breath sped up. there was like a lack of air in your lungs because you knew how rafe was with you, how much he hated you but above all, how much he loved to humiliate you. it was his favorite pleasure: being cruel to you. and damn, he knew how to hurt you better than anyone. he must have broken so many things in you, your ego, your heart, your self-esteem, your confidence, your joy of living that you wondered how you were still standing in his presence.

with a tense smile, you approached them because you also couldn't escape the group. you hugged your notepad to your chest, pressing tightly the page against your breasts. you were about to open your mouth when rafe cut you off.

“i understand better why this restaurant is so empty…” he commented, looking you up and down. “ but what i don’t get is why you haven’t been fired yet when you’re scaring customers away.”

“apparently not everyone since you're here...." that was what you wanted to answer but you preferred to kill yourself rather than make a remark to rafe that was going to cost you your life. and you wouldn't want to give him this pleasure.

“have you chosen what you want? ” you said, addressing everyone, preferring to ignore the leader of the kooks group.

“it’s so cheap here. ” he had commented. “ very cheap. ” from his insistent look, you understood that he was including you in his criticism. he was very childish.

you nervously tighten your grip on your pen. of all rafe's friends, topper seemed the most sensitive to what you were going through but he always stayed quiet. this idiot finally ordered cocktails. the words had to be ripped out of his mouth.

when you came back with the drinks, you delicately placed them on the table. you were embarrassed by the way rafe stared at you like you had something on your face, like he was planning another nasty remark. and it didn't take long, because the next minute, he had managed to make you cry and made everyone laugh.

when you handed him his glass, he purposely knocked it to the ground.

“what are you waiting for, pogue? clean it. it's not like it's new to you, you're used to cleaning up other people's shit. "

burning tears started to come out of your eyes, you bit your trembling lip. your throat was tight, and you hated everything you were feeling right now. the shame, the humiliation, the fear, it destroyed you.

you brought something to clean before bending down. he hadn't apologized. he never did it anyway. you kept all this grudge inside of you, even if it killed you.

he picked up your rag with a smirk. “you don't need that when you can use your tongue. ”

you looked at him with wide eyes, as if you had heard wrong. topper had intervened before you did. “hey dude, no need to go that far.”

“shut up, topper. i really need to show you that all women are fucking dirty and disgusting sluts. so stop protecting them, and watch the show i put on for you. and for free. ”

"rafe...listen..." you said softly.

“you better listen to me if you don't want to be fired. you know how good i am at making your life hell.” you started to kneel down, bringing your face closer to the ground. “yes, you understand very easily, maybe you can show your ass to the camera too. record it, kelce. lick it well, sweetheart. don't want to see your ugly face on the screen. “

this day was the last straw. it was worse than anything. it was completely degrading and nasty.

and it was surely at that precise moment, that night to be exact, that everything had changed in you. that you had decided that this couldn't last, that you had to play into the enemy's game to defeat him, that sometimes you had to be unfair when he cheated, that when someone was bad, you had to be tougher and stronger.

it had been several years that you had endured criticism from rafe and kooks about your physique, your pogue condition, that your face was the center of mockery and the worst jokes, that it lasted to the point that you had surely become the funniest joke or meme in the island.

but you had grown up. you had prepared your revenge over several months. because you couldn't pretend it didn't affect you. but all the hatred you had felt for yourself had started to turn towards rafe, to give you a reason to live, a purpose because he had given you a furious and crazy idea.

he had humiliated you. and he was going to taste his own medicine.

deep down, you weren't just doing this for yourself but for all the pogue girls who had suffered harassment from kook boys, for all the girls who had received bad treatment because they didn't look like princesses, for all the girls who were made to believe that they deserved nothing because they did not meet the physical standards. you had to put an end to this nonsense.

so after five months, you had become what rafe loved the most. you had become a very popular online camdoll for kooks. you wore a mask that hid your facial identity enough to not be recognized. you had a completely different style. you were surely prettier, more magnificent in his eyes. because he had fallen into the trap. he had this slightly superficial side. you knew you had succeeded from the moment you felt the difference. not only did he want you, but he wanted to possess you.

he was one of your loyal viewers. he didn't have his first name as a username but you knew it was him. his messages had the same tone as when he spoke to you.

he was pathetic, because he paid to see your content, to talk to you, to hear you touch yourself, to do dirty things to you. no matter how much you charged.

he even sent you a video of him jerking off on one of your lives. you couldn't lie, you had watched the entire video. his fist was wrapped around his painfully cock, moving up and down, the leaking tip disappearing and appearing with the speed of his thrusts, the way his boner grew bigger the more he thought of you. he was going so fast that his bulge was literally slapping against his hand with a loud, obscene noise, his sagging balls moving in rhythm. his hair was messy, there was a quiver in his lips every time he made a grunt. “ fuck...fuck...fuc'...gonna fuck that dollface one day...gonna get this dick all in your dumb pussy. ” his length was very feverish and at the same time hard, shaken with spasms. the veins pumped by his strokes. he had come in such a short time, loads of cum exploding all over his sweating chest. he had wiped everything with a pack of tissues. and just when you thought the video had come, he started again.

you never responded. only downloaded the video and stored in a confidential folder.

but one day, he spoiled you a little too much. however, you weren't doing anything really crazy. you fulfilled clients' requests — which involved masturbating with a vibrator, playing with your breasts while riding a dildo, putting as many fingers as your viewers wanted in your pussy, letting them dress you however they wanted, letting them make you crazy stupid and vulnerable, doing little shows and hauls until you end up naked, playing with the food on your body, recording your orgasms, filming you when you slept naked or took a shower.

you had decided to thank rafe for his expensive gifts by asking him to come to your house. you had a studio that you had decorated, enough to make him believe that you lived well, and that you could be a kook. obviously, he had accepted and of course, he was hoping for sex when you told him you had a surprise for him.

it was, he was going to have sex. and you a revenge.

rafe had always assumed that he hated you, the shitty, ugly pogue, that he would never sleep with you. and to quote his own words “even for a million, i could never fuck such a disgusting thing. ” and it was always in public, in front of people. then you were going to do the exact same thing. you were going to fuck with him, and if he loved show that much, he was not going to be disappointed.

on the day, you had prepared yourself for the occasion. while you were getting ready, there were tons of flashbacks in your head, scenes, words that kept coming back. all this cruelty that could make you vomit.

“i really thought alcohol would help me find you attractive but no, you're still just as ugly. i thought it was a pogue thing baby but actually it's just you. ” it was rafe.

“ i felt like i had hit you in the face ten thousand times with my golf ball. ” it was still rafe.

“the difference between you and the other pogues? is that you angel, you will never be able to hide the fact that you are one. all the misery shows on your face. ” always rafe.

and it was each time heavier, more hardcore. he reminded you of your condition, but also of how much he couldn't see you. you were too horrible. you never told anyone about this treatment, about all this hatred. but you had now learned, from the best, how to make noise.

you wiped away your tears, and brought the mask to your face. “i can do it. ” you muttered to yourself as you began to get slightly anxious. you were afraid of breaking down in the middle of the act, of finally not being sure you wanted all of this. you felt mixed feelings. was it really good to do that, was it really right? but on the one hand, what had justice done for you until now? absolutely nothing. like everyone else, she had watched you get humiliated. so it was just common sense?

the door to your studio rang. you opened it. you couldn’t lie that rafe was really handsome and smell good. but the first thing you noticed was his smile.

he was completely different. you could see in his eyes for the first time, something positive towards you.

" welcome. ” you said with a smile, inviting him inside.

oh he resisted the urge to kiss you, his hands were in his pockets but they were nervous and unsteady. they wanted to be on you.

“do you want to drink something? ” you added the name of the cocktail he always had at your restaurant. you had done it on purpose but he hadn't noticed. he nodded.

“are you going to take off your mask one day? ”

“without it, i am no longer what i am. so it's better that i keep it. isn’t that all you want me to be? a doll. ”

“no, you’re right. then at least i know you're not a fucking pogue. ”

“it would be bad for your reputation too. i already see the headlines and the taunts "rafe cameron fucks a pogue" and people will laugh at you, and you hate it being humiliated. no one likes it. ”

“you look really nice, doll. i mean, kind.” he replied.

“i am but i believe that some people. ” you pressed the word, and gave him an honest look. “have abused a lot of this part of me. that's why i'm a doll, i don't have to feel anything, just do what people want me for. you can fulfill your every desire with me. do you want to see me in a certain dress? let me change. do you want to release your anger in me? let me help you. do you just want to fuck me? i am literally made for this. ”

“you are made for me. ” you smiled through the mask because in a way, he was right. he had created your character.

“do you mind if i film? i really want to record this. you are the first customer I have met. it's special for me. ”

" no. at least people will know to who you belong. ”

“that’s exactly it. ” you lied when starting the live. “let’s get started. ”

you had removed his pants and his boxers, placing yourself between his thick tighs, he was so much bigger than you that you looked like a small caged thing.

you placed your outrageously manicured hands on his open legs, your mouth sinking and wrapping around his hard cock. your tongue had started rolling around the girth, you could feel the small drop of precum going down your throat. this part that he was soon going to get fucked strongly and hard.

you wanted to drive him crazy, see him sweat like a pig because you were so good, because you did it all too well. he had wrapped your hair in a grip to make it easier to pull on it. “yes...suck that cock...just like that...let me ruin that mouth...fuck…”

your dripping lips were stretched by the size of his length, and the way it was getting completely hard inside of you. you could feel the drool running down the sides of your mouth. you felt every inch of his penis fucking your throat. and through your mask, you saw his smirks. he pulled your hair, and you took all of him, until your face came into contact with his pelvis, every bit of him was in you. you almost gagged.

he had barely pulled out of you before he entered you again. his cock worked against your tongue, brushing it harshly, the tip tapping the back of your throat. your cheeks were sunken, and your lips drowned between spittles and saliva. “you're perfect, doll...you really know how to suck...i could really take advantage of the situation if you keep this up...” at his words, you sucked him faster, pumping efficiently while his hand stroked your hair. his fingers moved along with your head.

he was completely using you, doing whatever he wanted with you. and you let him do it, because you wanted him to be proud of himself and to be seen on camera. he had pushed his cock onto your mask, decorating it with saliva, your own currently drooling. “so pretty. ” he had commented. he pushed his cock back into your mouth without warning, taking it ever deeper. you felt fizzy. your lips were open and used for several minutes non-stop, your throat puckered and pummeled. your jaw was starting to hurt, but you didn’t show it. you had to be perfect, packaged the way he wanted. your tongue flickered around him, teasing his girth.

“ need to be inside you...so bad...you make me feel so good. it's your face, doll. you're divine.”

maybe he had a mask kink to say that, to also be turned on by a fucking plastic object. or maybe it was the face he imagined behind it all? you didn't know.

he had thrown you on the bed, opened your legs in two and pushed your body against his hips, pulling you by the waist. his cock had twitching, purring some pre-cum, at the contact with your soaked cunt.

“ i could never sleep with a pogue. but especially with you, just thinking about it makes me vomit. “ it was perfect that you remembered that in the moment, as he thrust into you, his hips moving slowly.

your pussy clenched around his cock, barely letting him move without hurting you. “ fuck, you're so fucking tight, doll....need me to stretch this pretty little cunt. i'm gonna make you so dumb. “

you couldn’t hide that you still got wet, and damn, he knew how to fuck and you couldn’t be his first time. he had started pounding into you once your pussy had started to ease around him.

it was really intense, his body slamming violently against yours, the strike echoing through the room. your weak moans but which he heard very clearly, and which encouraged him to go even further within your walls. he pushed himself even more to hear you scream. he had a goal and he wanted to make you so stupid that in the end you wouldn't be able to do anything.

he buried himself inside you, his powerful thrusts stretching your pussy, your body twitching beneath him. he was on top of you, staring into your eyes. you were a little fascinated. his shoulders were broad and muscular, his arms heavy and toned, and his abs were perfect arranged into six packs. his hair fell on his forehead.

he couldn’t see the emotions on your face, nor clearly define what you were feeling. he only had your voice and the reactions of your body.

your pussy hugged him with each strokes, he filled you completely, making his way to your spot. your puffy slit was spread, capturing his bulge. you squeezed him harder, he startly getting down, the wet and dirty sounds of his hips rocking your body. you could see the vein on his neck, his contracted muscles covered in sweat.

he had placed his lips on yours, his mouth kissing yours. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, gently guiding the kiss with your tongue.

he continued to fuck you, while playing with his tongue in your mouth, kissing you without limits, until your lips and jaws were covered in drool. you waited for him to cum inside you. but he hadn't pulled out while you were flooded, loaded with his cum, and some orgasms you'd had. it dripped from your slit onto the sheets. he had placed the tip of his cock back in front of your entrance, picking up where his enjoyment had left you off.

this time it was a little gentler. it was like you had established a little intimacy even though you knew it wasn't true. after a few minutes, he stopped.

" are you always being that kind ?…”

“ you think i'm a mean person ? ”

“ you never hurt people ? never in your life ? ” you asked him, with a friendly tone.

“ what if ? ”

“ don't freak out. everyone has a mean side. now, you got me curious. can you tell me the worst thing you have done to someone ? ”

“ maybe it was to one of that trashy pogue…” it started, and you forced yourself to not react when you saw the smile on his face. even after years, it didn't regret anything. because obviously, he talked about you.

“ thank you for confessing this story to me. now, i have a gift for you…” you said with a fakely soft voice. “ it was not the sex part. i'm willing to let you see me without my mask. i really want you to see me because i trust you. ” was obviously a lie.

“are you sure? ” he was so surprised by your proposal. “ don't you want to tell me something worse you did to someone too ? ”

“ oh, it's part of the gift, rafe . ”

at this moment, he knew. he fucking knew.

he had removed your mask.

because of the shock, he took a step back.

his face was indescribable.

“oh no, you can't pretend to be disgusted, not after fucking me like you've wanted this your whole life. ” you smiled. “what did you say before? that you could throw up? liar. you came so hard in me. and, it is still dripping. come on, don't run away, give a closer look. maybe i should make you clean the mess you made with your tongue. like you did to me. maybe, this time you will vomit. but i'm not sure, you're such a pathetic hater. and i'm just not afraid of you anymore. ”

“what the fuck is wrong with you, pogue ?! did you have fun?”

“ pogue ? ” you mocked. “ was babydoll, sweetheart, a few minutes ago. now, it's pogue ? how it feels, rafe ? how does it feel to be humiliated ? i think, it's better for you to apologize for all these years. but not only for me, for every pogue. ”

a crazy laugh escaped his lips, as he came closer to you. “ really ? what make you feel that i will apologize ? especially to you. ”

“ because now, the game is over. it's a war and i'm gonna fight back. it means, i will drag you down. every secret, every weakness, every move that you want to hide from me will be from now my first concern. i'm glad that you hate me because it's only the beginning. ”

“ you really think that you have some power over me ? be serious. ”

“ it's not about power at all. it's about justice. ”

i also wanted to thanks @bunnyrafe @rafecameroninterlude and @bimbotrashcan who helped me a lot, and trusted me for this !! tysm, i'm very grateful <333

[hugz4hoon]

thunderstorms - p.s.h.

summary — sunghoon is not a huge fan of thunder...

pairing — bf!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre — fluff and extremely slight angst maybe?

wc — 984

a/n — omg first post so exciting!!! i literally wrote this for my writer's craft class when i was 17 and came across it again yesterday, so i figured i might as well post it here :D idek if anyone is gonna see this but might as well just drop it lolz if u see this, i hope you like it! :-)

It was a regular day, just another Friday night spent binging stupid movies. It happened to be raining today, with the thunder outside being so loud that the coffee table in front of you shook every time it struck. You and your boyfriend were both sprawled across the couch, with Sunghoon laying in your lap while the movie flashing across the screen drowned out the noise coming from outside. As the thunder struck again, you felt Sunghoon nuzzle into you a bit more as his dark hair tickled your chin. 

Weird, he’s not usually this affectionate. 

Although it caught you off guard, you let him come closer. 

“It’s a bit cold, don’t you think?” Sunghoon asked, his voice coming out muffled as his face was pressed against your chest. “I guess it is kind of chilly, why don’t we make some hot chocolate to warm up?” You asked with a cheeky grin. He looked up at you, his pink lips stretched into a tender smile. “Sounds good.” He then got up to start making the hot cocoa for the both of you.

While he was in the kitchen, thunder struck again. A loud shatter suddenly came from his direction, which caused you to whip your head towards him. You saw Sunghoon standing over a broken mug, glass scattered all over the floor. You quickly jumped off the couch and ran to him, cautiously avoiding the glass.

“Oh my god, Sunghoon! Are you okay? What happened?” You questioned, worry plastered all over your face. You searched his face for any emotion. Fear, shock, anger, anything that could explain what was going on, but you were met with a blank expression. Sunghoon’s deep brown orbs were unreadable as he kept staring at the broken mug until he looked up, and suddenly his eyes went back to normal. 

“Oh. The mug just slipped out of my hand, nothing else.” 

Not convinced, you questioned him again. 

“It just slipped?” You pressed, raising your brow.

“Yes, it just slipped,” he said sternly, avoiding your eyes. He faced you with a pointed expression on his face. “Whatever Y/N, can you just help me clean this up?” 

Weird, he seemed different from his usual calm self. Must be an off day, you thought, so you decided to shut your mouth and just help him clean the mess. Your hands brushed together as you carefully picked up the larger pieces of glass. Sunghoon’s hand felt cold and sweaty, and when you looked at it, you saw that it was shaking. Remembering that he felt cold earlier, you let it slide, as that was probably the cause. 

Stop overreacting, you thought to yourself as you continued to pick up the shards. After cleaning the glass, you finished up the hot chocolate together and went to sit back on the couch with your freshly made hot cocoa. While making the hot chocolate, Sunghoon seemed to calm down a bit, and whatever was bothering him seemed to disappear. Pleased that he was back to his normal self, you looked at him in relief. 

Then thunder struck again. 

“Fuck!”

You flinched as you heard him curse loudly. His black hoodie was soaked in hot chocolate. Sunghoon placed his now half-filled mug on the table, then stood up and threw his hoodie off. With a concerned look on your face, you looked up at him, who was now clad in just a T-shirt. “It’s okay Hoon, we’ll wash it—” “No, it’s not okay!” He interrupted. 

Now you’re starting to get pissed. Why is his temper so short today? Did you do something? “What is going on with you today, Sunghoon? You can tell me if you're upset with me about something, but I can’t keep tiptoeing around you—” Before you could finish your sentence, the loudest strike of thunder hit the ground, and you saw his whole body visibly flinch as his eyes widened for a second.

He’s afraid of thunder.

You promptly engulfed his larger body in an embrace as best as you could. After minutes of just holding him, you brought him back down to the couch to lay on you. “It’s okay, I’m right here.” You watched his stature start to shrink as he cuddled into you, moving further into your hold.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you’re scared of thunder?” you asked him gently, while combing your fingers through his soft hair to calm him down. Sunghoon looked up at you with glossy eyes, then looked at the ground with a sigh. 

“Because it’s stupid and I didn’t want to bother you with it. I’m an adult, I’m not supposed to be afraid of a bit of thunder.” 

Your mind went blank after hearing the first sentence. It felt like someone dropped an anvil on your heart. He didn’t want to bother you? What? You held his chin to turn his face towards you and looked him in the eyes. “Listen to me. Nothing you say will ever bother me. I always want you to talk to me, and I always want to help you. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Okay?” Your serious eyes didn’t leave his teary ones the entire time you spoke to him. He slowly nodded his head. “Okay,” he answered in a broken whisper, “you’re right. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, baby. Just don’t hide it from me next time,” You pouted while poking him playfully. “I won’t, I promise,” he giggled shyly as you kept prodding at him. His soft, deep voice was like music to your ears. You scanned his features as he laughed—the way his eyes turned to crescents, his wide smile that exposes his fangs, his little dimples. He was perfection personified.

For the rest of the night, you stayed on the couch with cheesy rom-coms playing in the background, as you eventually fell asleep like that.

[vintagexherry]

"I saw mommy kissing santa!"

Miguel O' Hara x Wife!Reader

//Mentions of kissing, Suggestive, fluff, OC sibling of Gabriella

A/N: This is just to let out some stress, Might make a Nathan Bateman version of this if i feel like it

■■■

Miguel was in the living room, sitting on the couch tapping on the hologram screens, checking any report emails from the other spiders. Thankfully, the villains in other dimensions were probably in the christmas spirit since all the reports he gets are broken buildings or affirmations that a villain got sent back to its rightful dimension.

Curtains are drawn back to let the view of snow fall over and pile against the glass. The snow wasn't that heavy today since the next-door neighbour christmas lights are visible enough, although that doesn't mean he probably needs to shovel the driveway the next day.

"All things sorted Miguel, no anomaly in sight for the last one hour."

Miguel heard Lyla pop up and talk next to his shoulder.

"Alright, that's for today Lyla."

"Aight! Merry Christmas, Miguel!" With that cheery tone, she disappears in a flash. And with that, Miguel also turned off the screens and laid back on the couch with a heavy yet relaxed sigh.

Honestly, he doesn't remember the last time he actually enjoyed a holiday without getting called for action. The warmth of the fireplace with its crackling noises could even put him to sleep.

That is until he hears an echo of small feet trying (and failing) to be quiet and sneak up to him, not to mention the hushed giggles and whispers along with it.

He decides to entertain them, cus why not.

After a few seconds, two gremlins children tackle him from behind the couch, a pair of hands covering his eyes, and one tries to wrestle his arm as if it had a life of its own.

"Gahh! You got me!" Miguel exclaimed.

His children laugh and giggle as Miguel try to pry them by grabbing their pajamas as if there unruly kittens.

After a minute of wrestling, the kids' laughter died down to huffs for breath, and Miguel couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, you two, what got you so energetic today? You didn't drink any coffee, did you?" He swear, the last time the two had coffee, you and Miguel had to chase them around the house. As much as athletic Miguel is, he got his limits.

"Ew! Too bitter, " Gabriella says as she cuddles next to her dad.

"Psh as if you didn't drink some yesterday" Mateo accusingly points at Gabriella

"Your just jealous I drank more than you did!" Gabriella fights back

Miguel huffs a laugh, and as much he finds the fight funny, he's more curious what got the kids all energetic. Usually, they would be eager to help their mom, who is by now preparing dinner in the kitchen.

"Alright, alright, break it up, you too. Santa already wrote you on the nice list. Don't make him change it."

With that, the kids succesfully stopped well.

Maybe too well...

Miguel looked down at them and saw them giving looks to each other as if their talking telepathically.

Weird.

"Something wrong?"

Mateo and Gabriella glanced up to Miguel and back at each other as if urging at least one of them to speak up.

Whatever they got going on telepathically, it seems like Gabriella won since Mateo gave a defeated sigh and looked at Miguel.

"Papa. You better not tell mama I told you this..."

"Alright...?"

Mateo looked at him and to Gabriella who gave an encouraging nod.

"Mama kissed santa last night."

What.

Wait...

Miguel tried holding his laugh, but before he could, he was already choking on his saliva and only choked and raspy laughs came out.

Mateo and Gabriella seemed confused at first but quickly faded to anger and determination.

"C'mon Papa, we really saw Mama kissing him while he was putting gifts under the tree!" Mateo exclaimed, determined to state and conclude his point.

"And I thought Santa only stopped for the cookies and milk." Gabriella added

And with it, Miguel snorted and laughed more. His stomach clenching from his laughter and his children unimpressed.

Oh kids....

If you only knew.

"Ok, ok...." Miguel said when he finally caught his breath.

He looked at Gabi and Mateo, who only looked at him in disappointing looks. (Which he tried not to laugh again)

Before he could speak again, the three of them heard your voice coming from the kitchen.

"Mat, Gabi! Dinner's ready, call your dad to come too!"

Gracias a Dios.

You were always there to save him perfectly.

He looked at the kids again and gave them a final look.

"Look, Your papa is gonna look at the cctv later at night and I'll see if mama really kissed santa."

And with that, the kids agreed to have mercy on him at least this night and headed straight to the dining room, excited for dinner.

□■□■□��□■□■□■□■□■□■

"Amor, you can't believe what the kids told me today."

"Hm?" You were on the bed reading a book, and you looked up to Miguel, wearing a towel around his waist as he picked sweatpants to sleep.

"Is it something funny? I swore I heard you laugh just before dinner." You recalled the sound of his laughter filling the space as you cook.

"Well, that's because the kids accussed you of something, Mrs. O'Hara."

"Oh?" Your interest is now piqued, and you bookmarked your book and put it on the nightstand.

"Now tell me Mrs. O' Hara..."

Miguel slipped next to you, laying on his side, his head resting on his hand.

"... Is it true that at 11:42 pm. on Christmas Eve, you had gone out of your bedroom to kiss the one and only Santa Claus?" He smirked at your confused face.

What.

Wait....

You bit your lips to stifle your laughter.

Miguel smiled wider at your reaction, even chuckling along.

After gaining your breath and steadying your thoughts you speak up.

"Well, Mr. O'Hara, I can assure you that I would never do that and that Santa only stopped to drop presents and eat cookies and milk."

"Cookies and milk hm? What if..."

Suddenly, you felt his other hand slipping beneath your night dress.

Oh, now you see where this is going.

"What If...?" You inquired, making eye contact with him.

Miguel smiled

"What if.... Santa decided to stop by to taste something.... Sweeter? Hm?"

His hands were now playing at the hem of your underwear.

"Sweeter? If that's what Santa wants, I'll be glad to give him a taste." You smiled, feeling Miguel's fingers tug down your underwear.

"Don't mind if I do." Miguel smirked, and with that, he lifted himself up and took your underwear off fully, throwing it away randomly on the floor, you could even see the print of his dick just pressing agaist his sweatpants.

Safe to say, Miguel had to do breakfast tomorrow morning for the kids.

The End