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#sometimes you love people so much it hurts yeah this is one of those times
gguk-n · 18 hours
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Hello there! Love your work on the Max Verstappen x reader fiction. If it isn't too much, can I request an angst based on the song " All I wanted was a coffee" by Samantha Ebert? You can decide the ending but, a gut wrenching angst with kelly is appreciated. Thank you!
I hope you like this, I tried to use the song in the way that I saw fit. The reader has many insecurities and bit of mommy issues. Mention of cuts and bleeding.
I wish you loved me
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{Reader’s POV}
Max and I started dating soon after he got out of a really long relationship with his ex. With Max being a Formula One driver; the details of his past were general knowledge, did I wish I didn’t know? Yes. Because in the pictures of Max and Kelly, you could see his eyes sparkled and he would smile so bright sometimes and I felt like I never got to know that Max. But every relationship is different; I couldn’t compare it, could I?
Max was loving, I mean every boyfriend is. He would sometimes forget important stuff but he was a busy man with an even busier job.
But it hurt when I saw Max with P or Kelly for that matter. His eyes would light up; I just felt like crap every time he met them, but Max never noticed. At the end of the day, Max was always around P while she was growing up, it was a given she missed him, right?
It got worse when Kelly started coming to races and meeting Max. The worst was yet to come; the other girlfriends started to side eye me whenever me and Max would interacted as if Max was Kelly’s boyfriend.
I was in the bathroom when I heard them; they were talking about how Max and Kelly looked cute together, they were the model family, that Max deserved better. Kelly even talked about all the gifts he got her and P recently. I just sat there in the cubical for a very long time.
I waited, I was dumb I know but no one’s loved me before and the fact that Max was willing to love me even for a moment felt like relief. I didn't want to let him go, I could not when there was a chance he would come back.
I waited like always, Max was always away having dinner with P since she missed him. She missed him a lot ever since we started dating. I never said anything since Max was like her father figure but it hurt.
One of those nights, I was sat drinking whiskey, it was in Max’s alcohol cabinet. The bottle was almost over. The snacks dried up soon after the third glass. I was sat on the floor, glass in hand when Max walked in. “World’s best dad everyone” I sang. “How much did you drink?” He laughed. He laughed at me. “You know my mother was right” I said, trying to get up. “She wasn’t really the best mom, now was she” Max commented. “Yeah but she was right about a lot of things and she was right about how difficult to love I was” I laughed. Max looked at me with sadness in his eyes, “don’t pity me Max.... How could Kelly steal you from me?” I cried. Max said nothing. “No no sorry sorry, how can something be stolen from me when it was never mine to begin with.” I laughed bitterly taking the last swig from my glass. “The alcohol’s gone Max, just like your feelings for me or did you ever have them to begin with?” I slurred.
“Y/N I” Max began. “No Max, you’re not at fault. It’s my fault for coming between 2 lovers. You should’ve told me that you loved her, I would’ve never dated you” I cried for the first time tonight in front of Max. As I steadied myself, the whiskey bottle fell and broke, and I tried to pick up the pieces but ended up cutting myself. “Hehe look Max I’m bleeding” I giggled holding up my hand. “Y/N let’s clean that up” Max said trying to hold my hand. “NO, Kelly won’t like it. I’m not a home wrecker...or maybe I am” I laughed bitterly. “Let me help you” Max pleaded. “You look at me with so much concern for the first time since we started dating” I pointed out. Max’s eyes bore into mine. I tried to walk away but ended up stepping on the glass. “Look I’m bleeding from my foot now too. At least now people can see that I’m hurting since I’ll have bandages all over me. My heart ache gets missed every time, you know. Maybe now, they might see my hurt, for once” I said with fresh tears forming.
“Mothers are always right. I’m unlovable, always been. If only I was pretty, if only I was a model, if only I was thinner, if only I was….Kelly Piquet, then you would’ve loved me. But I’m me, I’m plain old difficult to love, Y/N that’s why I’m unlovable” I chuckled. “Let’s go to the hospital” he pleaded again. “No, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t worry about me anymore. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it. Then you can have your happy ever after with Kelly” I laughed bitterly. “Did you ever love me?” I asked. Max was quiet. “I was just a rebound wasn’t I. Tell me you really loved me even for a second” I begged. “I’m sorry.” He said.
I grabbed my phone with my other hand while bleeding on to the floor; “don’t worry. I’ll clean your place before I leave” I said looking at the trail of blood I was leaving and dialled my phone calling the only person I knew in Monaco, the only person who didn’t hate me or talk badly about me, Lewis. “Lewis, Hi....I need to go to the hospital. I’m bleeding” I giggled. “Are you drunk? How did you hurt your self? Where are you?” He asked concerned. “Yes, yes, home no wait, Max’s home” I answered. I heard him sigh. “Where Max?” He asked. “He’s here” I said looking up at Max. “Ask him to take you now?” Lewis suggested. “NO, we broke up, and ex-boyfriend’s don’t take their ex-girlfriend’s to the doctor” I explained. “What?” He asked shocked. “Please Lewis, it hurts. Can you come soon?” I asked. “I’ll be there soon” Lewis said and cut the call. I sat there and looked at Max, “The whiskey tasted sweet as always and you sobered me up so fast” I sighed looking at the mess I had made.
Lewis came to take me to the hospital; he did not speak to Max. I guess even he knew what was going on. I didn’t see Max again after that either.
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flickeringflame216 · 1 year
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i associate you with Julia and hiking and yelling about worship music and shouting about how cool God is when reading scripture and being a literal ray of sunshine and throwing blankets at you. whaT A GOOD FRIEND OH MY GOODNESS.
AHAKDNGKDNSBF GNFNAMSNF GNGJJWKTMYN RILLA
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snoopyearss · 6 months
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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disgustingtwitches · 1 month
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MDNI
141 as your drug dealer boyfriend
Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.
But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.
Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.
Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.
"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."
And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.
He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,
"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."
He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.
"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."
He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.
Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.
He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,
"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"
A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,
"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"
Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)
Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,
"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"
Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`
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bookyeom · 8 months
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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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pov by ariana grande
i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do
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You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.
You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 
“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 
“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.
”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.
“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 
“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 
“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 
“Come on. Stop.”
Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”
“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”
“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.
“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 
“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”
The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”
You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”
You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“
“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 
“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.
“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”
“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 
“DK would,” you mumble.
“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 
“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 
“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”
“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”
“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 
“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 
“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”
”Are you saying you don't care about me?”
You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”
“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”
“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 
“When are you guys hanging out next?”
You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 
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“How was yesterday?”
“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 
You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.
“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.
“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”
Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”
“Cheol.”
“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”
You look back down at your food. “He did.”
Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”
“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”
The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”
“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”
This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.
“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”
“Yeah,” is all you say. 
“Hey.”
You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 
He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 
You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.
That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.
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You hate how downright… silly you feel.
”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”
“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.
“Are you happy?”
Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”
”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.
”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”
“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”
The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.
“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”
Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 
“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 
You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.
“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.
“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”
“But what did I do wrong? With him?”
Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 
You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 
“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.
It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”
To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.
“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”
You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?
“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.
“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”
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You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 
You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 
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Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?
You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas
Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 
Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(
Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE
You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.
Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?
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You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.
Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 
“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”
You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 
“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”
Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”
Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”
You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”
The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.
“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.
“Listen, I–”
“Hey, Cheol–”
You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 
“You first,” you offer, and he nods.
“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 
You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.
“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 
Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”
You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”
“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 
“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 
You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.
“Yeah?” 
Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?
“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.
He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.
“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.
“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 
The tension in the air is palpable. 
Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.
“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”
That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”
“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.
“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”
You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.
“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 
When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.
“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 
I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.
You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.
He seems to understand you just fine.
He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.
The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 
The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 
Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 
When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”
It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”
He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 
You believe him.
“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.
“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 
You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”
“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.
“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”
Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”
You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”
The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”
“You’ve thought about it, huh?”
You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”
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A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda
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acid-ixx · 3 months
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I have a question, well 2 questions to be exact that’s been rattling around in my head since I started reading platonic yandere batfam fics, why would reader stay in Gotham? I’d be sneakily stealing as much money as I could without getting caught as soon as I reach a “fuck these guys” mentality. Like, asking to have some money for groceries or something and just pocketing it so that I could get a bus ticket and leave the city. Would you do it if you were reader? It just makes sense to me “this place sucks, these people suck, I’ve gotten enough to leave”, this is with me assuming that reader has the means of course, if the reader doesn’t then okay, yeah that makes sense
And my second question, do you ever feel resentful towards Alfred when you read batfam photonic yandere content? I do sometimes, especially when the reader is neglected. I know this might sound odd but when I read these fics I recognize that Alfred could do more, out of everyone in the manner, I think Alfred’s word carries the most weight, especially with Bruce due to him raising Bruce. I also notice in some batfam fics that the reader doesn’t get mad at him due to him giving them attention, but idk it feels kinda like a slap to the face, knowing that I don’t have the power but he does and yet not exercising it until I’ve burned every last tie to that family.
I know my thoughts are a more “well you’re on the outside looking in” type takes, but idk, it hurts my heart knowing that if reader stays in that city, it will be far more easier for the batfam to find them, where if they were outside the city, they’d have a fighting chance to make a new life for themselves
On a side note, I think we are underutilizing the angst potential of reader legally changing their name and the batfam not knowing until months or even years later when reader leaves. Like Bruce and the fam would just have to sit and realize that reader hates/dislikes/doesn’t care about them enough to legally change their name from Wayne to whatever reader chooses. Jason was Batman’s greatest failure, but Reader would be Bruce’s greatest failure, and what a delightful public failure it would be if the tabloids were to somehow find out that one of Bruce Wayne’s biological children changed their legal name
I’m loving your batfam content btw, like it makes me want to create one of those “screw therapy, I need to fist fight my dad” tiktoks and tag Bruce Wayne, that’s what I can phenomenal writing!! And sorry for making this so long! Hope you have a great existence!
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slight spoilers for future chapters.
this is one of my favorite asks... anon, you are so brilliant because your two questions tie into the reader's character so well and the flaws that they (you) conjured from years of neglect, so i hope my answers would suffice (i am answering based on the perspective of the reader from my series: again & again with a bit of my own perspective). tysm for sending this in, i actually really enjoy long asks and appreciate it when people take the time to send me these things!
why would the reader stay in gotham?
chapter one wasn't all the detailed about why they stayed in gotham. firstly, their self-worth had them reason that in no way, shape, or form would their family that basically estranged them would come running to them, especially not when the only time the reader could even stumble across them is by some miracle of coincidence. this also ties into their lack of knowledge about their family. sure, they know that babs is the oracle but do they know just how much access she has across gotham? not really. they know tim, like bruce, has a tendency to collect information about other people, but they don't know that they have contingency plans to be creeped out enough to get away from gotham and from their reach.
"it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!"
and the third point is, despite bruce being a billionaire of some sort, it was stated that the reader was too well-behaved and quiet. how does this make sense? as you've stated, they wouldn't simply have the means to get out. seeing as they were sheltered by alfred and never really explored the concept of traveling far away, they never asked for money; the only advantage of being a wayne is having quite a lot of things served on a silver platter.
they have this sort of toxic bond for staying with the people who have hurt them and it materialized to them physically staying despite knowing it would only cause more pain than anything else, and they don't know that. plus, they'd rather not have the wayne name associated with them and getting money from cheques or credit cards would be too risky for the reader's safety.
they've only realized just how shitty their family is after more than 10-13 years of staying in the manor, and saving up to move to an entirely different place would be difficult, alongside college and the jobs they have to take. so the next best thing they could do is rely on any means of advantage they could get whilst also moving on to the path of self-discovery and recovery.
but that doesn't mean they're staying in gotham forever, definitely not. the moment the reader realizes that dick gained some sort of interest towards them, they're booking it out of gotham. preferably to metropolis or central city or even somewhere far, far away— they're naive, but not stupid. sudden interest towards them means danger rather than anything else. and they're aware that alfred is capable enough to pull strings, so that's why spoiler alert: they have a secret stash of money hidden somewhere and like any children of bruce, they inherited the capability to be smart enough to already back up their contacts and everything on their phone, buy a burner phone and even change their entire identity in one quick go right after they move into an entirely different city or country.
gotham is merely their practice course.
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do you ever feel resentment towards alfred?
quite frankly, yes. the reader in the fic feels resentment towards everyone for a reason actually, but alfred's part was stated vaguely as to not spoil a future chapter that focuses on his perspective. they know that he has the more power inside the manor more than bruce has. everyone, and i mean everyone respects alfred, and it doesn't take a genius to know that if you mess with him, you're messing with an entire family of crime fighters.
it's not obvious, but the reader's narrative in chapter one is them trying so hard to delude themself into thinking things can be better until it's too late. so in a sense, there's false narrative coming into play.
"alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least."
at some point in time, alfred had also neglected the reader emotionally with the same reasoning as the others; he was busy with their father. and this all could've been avoided if alfred had tried to confront the entire family about it. i'm not delving deeper into this to really avoid spoilers other than pointing out some details in the first chapter.
just know that alfred relishes in your newfound favoritism towards him, and that he may or may not have pulled some strings himself from helping you become closer to the family.
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the part about reading changing their name from (name) wayne to (name) (last name) is what made me so drawn to this ask. you have pretty much predicted one of the chapters that explored (name) wayne to the public eye. they're not so much of an internet celebrity because of their rare appearances in public, but that's what causes immense curiosity about their identity to uprise in gotham, and their fame was one of the means to get to you.
there was one news article published that was the reason that made bruce distant towards you.
but let's focus on what yan! bruce would've felt once he turns a full 360.
because the first thing he would do once he has you in his grasp is to change your last name back to his. you are not the child of a (last name), you are a wayne first and foremost, bruce's third child and his greatest mistake, quite literally. you were a product of a one-night-stand, and because he was drowning in despair from jason's death, he had failed to notice you. all his years of neglect, and he doesn't even know a single thing about you, simply because he refused to acknowledge your presence.
and you rightfully hated him, he should've accepted that. but your diary entries and the way you innocently thought of him destroyed any sliver of hope for a peaceful reconciliation. he hates how you were experiencing the same type of despair as him when it comes to battling your own monsters— you truly are a wayne at heart. he couldn't afford to let you get away any further. just like dick, he needs to fix it now or further sever the already broken ties you have with him.
it's not batman now, but rather bruce. bruce wayne had failed to save another one of his children, not as a vigilante, but as a father.
knowing bruce, he's quick to take into action and search for you.
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holy shit, this is a really long post but i hope it does answer the questions ! im so grateful that you like my writing enough to write a really long ask, and i hope to see your messages more once the new chapters are published <3
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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IT'S ALREADY WEDNESDAY !?! DAMN 🥺 thursday basically now bcs it's just turned midnight here omg.
#🌙.rambles#despite the lack of time i'm not too overwhelmed! oh my god thinking abt it n i really love my friends so much :')#but there's that only one irl i have that has honestly been. hmmm. bcs i don't expect anything at all from others genuinely but it hurts if#you're the only one giving :') but i've been taking my mind off that. she's genuinely the only friend rn i have that drains me.#i still do love & care for her though! she's still my friend. other friendships i have whether irl or online is good enough ! but hmm#maybe i feel a bit anxious in general like i have to do more. sm more. i'm not sure. i'm sorry. i dont want to think too much rn#here's the thing i've had a lot more mood swings lately ( likely due to pms ) & i'm worried of how it may have unknowingly affected things#bcs like in my discord status i write sometimes there n it may not be really clear? often even if it sounds v negative i don't actually#mean it to that extent. it's often a bit dramatized bcs it looks cool. sorry. unless it's something like. oh yh when those two irls#excluded apollo n i on the day before our bday;; unintentional tho & i do realize that's just the kind of people they are.#everytime i spend time w them we just do whatever they want & we have a lot of differences. it hurt bcs it was our bday soon though &#with them i know from experience that they wouldn't reciprocate the similar kindness or gifts i would give or have given?#my fault for expecting something. expectations lead to disappointment. that said if i have problems with people....#i'm trying harder to bring it up. i know why they're like that ^ but maybe i'm afraid of unintentionally hurting them. yeah. but hmm#i apologized for smth i said then that day but i remember they just said 'hope you feel better soon' which kind of hurts thinking on it bcs#their actions that day made me cry a lot. it didn't seem like they care that hurt. & i realize those two though. they don't . yeah.#idk how to say but they've never been there for me when i need it. genuinely never. i can't see them being my best friends in the future.#they've never been there to ask me how i'm doing. to offer if they could help me. i've done that for them. i don't expect reciprocation but#it hurts when you feel the effort isn't returned. it's been like that for a long time. i've expressed several times wishing to have#heart-to-heart talks but they've never gone through bcs they don't work towards it too. that said though. i'm human. i have my own life#my own emotions and struggles. it gets so draining when it feels so one-sided. & then i feel more sorry that maybe my mental health#in general ends up bringing down my other friendships? sometimes with people if i don't really interact it's either i'm busy or#tired. just shy or anxious in general. or i feel unappreciated. recently it's been a mix of all that so it's been hard to do more than i ca#thank you tho for everything all of you have done. i wish i cld do more for you. arghh i'll go on as i can w my limit but recently#there's maybe this distance i'm too tired to cross rn? i'm a bit tired rn but i think i'll be ok again soon! i'm motivated when it comes to#my interests. passions. just forgetting stuff relating to ^ i'm not TOO stressed bcs i look forward to these games n books n ideas n all c:#i'm a bit tired rn but i'll distract myself! this too shall pass. i was doing better earlier. soon i'll feel better again as well 🤍#i'll be productive when i feel like it! i can rest. i can take it slow. at my own pace. it's hard n i feel bad for that but i need to.#it's enough to realize i'm tired & let myself rest. just live rn. i don't have to be so harsh on myself. i can rest. but. i'm sorry....#so much to do. so much yet unsaid and undone. in all aspects of my life. i'm not sure what to do first. it hurts. i'm tired. i'm sorry
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pearlywritings · 6 months
Text
A slip of the tongue
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synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~
pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader
tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor
word count: 3.7k+ words
a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!
Here is the second part btw
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Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.
"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."
Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.
All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.
Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.
But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.
Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.
“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.
When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.
"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"
Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.
“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”
“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.
“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”
“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”
The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.
He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.
“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”
“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.
Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.
“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”
You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.
“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”
“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.
“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”
“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.
Or rather realizing when an apology is due.
You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.
“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”
“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”
“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”
Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.
“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.
Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.
Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.
Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.
Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.
“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.
“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly. 
Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.
“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.
The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.
“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.
“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”
“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.
“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.
“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”
At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.
“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”
And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge. 
“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”
Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.
“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”
“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.
“Good night, Alhaitham.”
“Good night, Y/n.”
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True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.
“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-
“Are you overthinking again?��� 
Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.
“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”
Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.
“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”
Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.
“Morning, Haitham.”
With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.
He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.
He wants you to know that it’s mutual.
That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.
You are absolutely gorgeous.
His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.
You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.
His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.
But your voice snaps him out of it.
"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.
Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan. 
The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?
"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"
Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.
"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."
You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.
"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…
"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it. 
Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.
"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"
And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.
It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 7 months
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Pairing : Dad!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : first half angst ; reader is pregnant ; Ji is kind of an a-hole ; he fixes himself ; time jump for the second half ; ji and readers daughter is 5 ; Ji is still an a-hole ; angst ; happy ending though ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Can you please write an angst with a fluffy ending on hannie - where y/n surprises him that shez pregnant(w a daughter)but he lashes out at her harshly and says he doesn't want the baby bcz of his tiring and exhausting schedule - but realises his mistake sooner and apologizes her and even takes care of her during her pregnancy and even his precious daughter once she's born , And one mor fic of angst w a fluffy ending on hannie - where he lashes out at his 5 y/o daughter and y/n as they asked him to spend more time with him ,and especially on his daughter's bday and he didn't even remember her daughters bday and said all the possible harsh things like way too harsh things to them on his daughters bday - but later the same he realises it's his daughters bday and regrets immediately and Apologizes to both yn and his daughter and even surprises his precious daughter lately on her birthday A/N : I'm combining these two!! It'll be a famous Nana time jump for this one so I can pair them together in one fic. I changed the request just a little bit, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anonny. ALSO! I think I got the job!! That also means that I'll be working overnights (graveyard shift), but I'll actually be respected and treated fairly so... I'm really happy. I'll be able to get the hours that I need to pay my bills as well. I won't be able to write as much, but I promise I will write when I get the chance to.
Were you and Jisung together? Of course you were, he was the love of your life, and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a single day that went by when you weren’t able to happily say he was yours. Ji made you laugh, he made you laugh to the point where your stomach hurt and your eyes filled with tears and you were doubled over wheezing and gasping for breath. Ji made your heart feel full, so full that there was no more room in your chest for it to grow anymore. He made you feel loved in a way that was so magical, so dreamlike, it was like living in your own fairytale except it was all real, and every morning you got to wake up and know that he was yours and you were his. 
Were you and Jisung together though? No, very rarely. His job kept him away from you more often than not, and while the moments that the two of you were able to physically be together were… well, dreamlike, a lot of the time, most of the time, your interactions were kept to phone calls and late night texts or video calls. You tried to be supportive, you didn’t complain as much as most people probably would, although there were many times when you wanted to just break down and beg him to put you before his job at least once a month. But you didn’t, you’d put on a smile as you hugged him and kissed him goodbye after one of those rare nights when he would be able to come over and spend the night. 
He spent most of his time at the dorms with the other guys, and while he’d try to invite you over there, you’d always kindly decline. As much as you loved the guys and looked at them as brothers, you wanted to be able to spend time with Ji alone, and to you it seemed like he’d rather be around them than to be around you sometimes. You wished that he’d grow up a little, prioritize the relationship, and it seemed less like a wish and more like a need now. It only took one rare night that he spent the night for you to get the most life changing news of… well… your life. 
///
“Can you… Can you hear me?” You asked into your phone, the mind numbing sound of static coming through the speaker was headache inducing, but you really needed to talk to him. 
“Yeah… Kind of… Shit, this reception is really bad. Can you just text me, baby?” His voice came through choppy and muffled, it sounded like he was underwater, and while you knew that it would be best to text him considering the way the phone call was going, this wasn’t really something that you wanted to tell him over text. You wanted to hear his reaction, and while it would have definitely been better to tell him in person, he was currently on tour and you knew that by the time he got back, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. 
“I really need to talk to you…” You said, rushing out the front door to stand on the porch, hoping that the service would be better now that you were outside. “Can you hear me now?” You asked, and you heard him hum in agreement, and while you should have felt better that this moment wasn’t stalled any longer, your stomach began to twist into knots and although the mid-February wind was whipping around you, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck. 
“You okay, baby? What’dya need to talk about?” His voice filled the silence, and you knew that he didn’t have much time before he had to go back to work. He wasn’t rushing you, but you felt rushed, you didn’t want to wait forever to tell him, and you thought that maybe the news would brighten his day and lift his mood that had already peaked. He was so sweet, so gentle, and he had often talked about one day having a little baby Ji to follow in his footsteps, you were certain that his reaction would be nothing but positive. 
“I’m pregnant, Ji…” You whispered, and there was no question as to whether he heard you. The sound of a gasp, and then loud coughing, and then silence. Had he muted his phone so he could celebrate with the guys? “Babe? You still there?” You asked, trying not to get overly excited yourself. You wanted to save your own celebration for when he came back home and you both could be together to share in the excitement of such big news. 
“No. I… Look, I need some time to think about this because… You just… Do you even know what I’m doing right now? I’m about to do a show and you think I needed to hear that before I go on stage? As if things aren’t stressful enough for me… I don’t… I don’t want a damn kid right now!” Had you set your expectations too high? This was most definitely not the way you thought that the announcement would turn out, and this wasn’t the way you thought he’d be. It was so shocking that you were stunned into silence, frozen like a statue on the front porch. “I don’t want it. That’s it… That’s all I have to say. Figure something out because this isn’t going to work. I have to go.” 
And he did. He hung up, leaving you with so many thoughts, but none of them stuck long enough to really form into anything more. What the hell did he expect you to do? You were already 3 months along, it’s not like you were just going to get rid of the baby because he decided that he didn’t want it. That did change things though, it changed a lot of things. You weren’t sure what you were going to do right at that very second, but you had a lot to figure out before he came back from tour. 
~
After the concert, after all of the stress of the show wore off, he was able to really think. He thought about the phone call, he thought about what he said, and he was immediately hit with a wave of regret. He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking when he said it, he didn’t know what came over him, and the only reason he could truly come up with was the stress. It was the damndest thing, because he truthfully wouldn’t mind being a father, especially knowing that someone as amazing and caring and loving as you would be the mother to his child. 
That’s why he tried to get in touch with you, calling your phone repeatedly until he came to the stomach turning conclusion that you just weren’t going to answer him. That didn’t stop him from calling once more to leave a message though. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, I love you so damn much, and I’m happy, I really am. I do want the baby, I want this, I do. Please, don’t think about what I said, I wish I could just take it all back, I wish I could make you forget that I was stupid enough to say something like that. I hope you’re sleeping and when you wake up, just call me, please call me, baby. I need to hear your voice, I need to know that we’re going to be okay. I love you.” 
The call was promptly ended before he fell back onto the hotel bed. It was strange how he had been able to sleep by himself in the dorms for so many nights, he was able to fall asleep without you, but now that he knew that you were carrying his child, now that he knew how much he had fucked up, he couldn’t seem to sleep at all, and he wanted nothing more than to be right beside you, holding you. 
He was restless, he couldn’t even close his eyes to try to get some sleep, and he knew that there was no way he’d be able to perform the following night, not unless he knew everything was okay back at home. So he didn’t sleep, instead he got online and started looking up tickets for the next flight that would take him home to you. How was he even supposed to perform when his mind was running rampant with thoughts of you leaving him? He couldn’t do anything with those thoughts plaguing him. 
So he bought the ticket, a red eye flight that he’d hopefully be able to get a little bit of shut eye on before he landed. He didn’t just need to sleep, he needed to think of what he’d say once he got back home to you. He was sure that the guys would understand. Or maybe they wouldn’t… He’d apologize to them for leaving on such short notice, and he’d make sure to come up with some elaborate excuse for the fans as to why he wasn’t there. 
He knew that he wasn’t the best at prioritizing the most important things, at least not what most people would consider important. He had spent so many years of his life working towards this dream of becoming a famous idol, and even when he achieved that dream, he just couldn’t stop. Even when you had entered his life and made the world seem so much brighter, he had foolishly continued to choose his career, and you had, amazingly enough, still decided to stand beside him and put up with his shit. He had to show you that you were important, not just you now though, but this baby, this child who had come as a surprise, but he made a mental note and a promise to himself to love this child, his child, regardless of anything that happened. 
///
You stood in the kitchen, a cup of coffee held tightly in your hands as you overlooked the city just outside your window. You tried not to think about what he had said, you wanted to have a decent morning, well, evening… It was already 1 in the afternoon. When you woke up there had been so many calls from him, but only one voicemail that you were far too scared to listen to. You knew that he was angry, he was pissed, and you didn’t want him to go off on you again, even if it were only through a recording. You still had to figure out what to do though, it didn’t seem like there was much in regards to options. You weren’t going to get rid of the baby, and as much as you loved Jisung, the life that was now growing inside of you was far more important than a relationship that was clearly one sided. 
The birds chirping just outside your window had captured your attention fully, the sounds of the city which had seemed so loud before were now almost calming, but that calm was soon disrupted by the sound of the lock being undone on your front door. You whipped around just in time to see Jisung standing in the doorway, disheveled and slightly frazzled as he dropped his bags to the floor. “What are you doing here?” You asked, refusing to move any closer to him. “Thought you had a tour to worry about?” 
His head shook and his bottom lip jutted out, shaky breaths had him trembling where he stood just as still as you had been on the front porch just yesterday. “The tour isn’t more important than you. It’s not more important than our family… our baby…” He whispered, his voice shaking just as much as his body was. “I was an idiot, an overly stressed out idiot… But I didn’t mean it. D-Did you listen to the message?” 
You rolled your eyes, trying not to pay too much attention to how sad he was and just how much it pulled at your heartstrings to see him that way. You just had a soft spot for him, and you were sure that that would never go away, or, at the least, take a while to fade. You had to be strong though, and even if what he said was true, you had to let him know how much you had been hurt by what he said before. “No… I didn’t. I think you said enough, and I didn’t really want to listen to your voice again, not any time soon.” It was a lie, you loved his voice, you didn’t want to go a day without hearing it, but watching the way his face crumpled, you could tell that your words really hit him. 
“That’s fair…” He whispered, a loud sniffle coming from across the room. “You don’t have to listen to it… I’ll say it now. I love you… and I love the little baby that we made together… And I’m sorry I was a dick. I don’t want to lose you, not because I was stupid and stressed out. I don’t want to lose you at all, ever.” Now his words were hitting you, although you were definitely going to blame the fresh tears that were streaming down your face on the raging hormones that were currently coursing through your body. “Don’t cry… Please don’t cry, I’ll cry too.” 
“You’re already crying though…” You whimpered out, a small sob mixed with a giggle. It felt so nice to laugh, but it felt even better to laugh with him. You wanted to put it in the past, not forget it, but right now you just wanted to move on. “Do you have to go back? I don’t want you to get in trouble for missing the shows…” 
His shoes had already been kicked off, making his way now over to where you stood in the kitchen, his hands cupping your face and his thumbs brushing away your tears. “I’m staying here… Where I belong. Changbin or Hyunjin can cover my parts. I want to be here with you, and that’s where I’m going to be. No more crying, I want to hear all about how you’re feeling, I want to be here for you.” 
///
The next months of your pregnancy were strange. It was like they were going too fast, but they also weren’t going fast enough. You loved being pregnant, but you weren’t a big fan of all the attention you were getting. It was one thing for it to be coming from Ji, but it was like everyone gravitated towards you, or… Moreso, your bump that everyone seemed to want to touch and ogle over like they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before. 
Jisung was too kind to tell anyone to really back away from you, and you didn’t know half of the people that would swarm around you wherever you went, but it was exhausting to deal with them. You knew that Jisung meant well though, and you could tell that he was proud to be a soon-to-be father, you could just feel the pride radiating off of him whenever he talked about it. 
His proudest moment to date though, was when he found out you were having a girl, that you were carrying his daughter. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he looked on in awe at the sonogram screen. You had to practically snap him back to reality that day, his head stuck in the clouds, daydreaming about the day his daughter would be born, the day he’d finally get to hold her and see her. He had told you all about it in the car on the way home. 
From that day forward, as if he wasn’t already like your shadow, he practically became glued to your hip. You love him, you really do, but it became annoying, not that you’d tell him that. You couldn’t do anything without him being right there beside you just to do it for you. You appreciated the help, but it’s not like you were on bed rest, you could still do things on your own. You couldn’t blame anyone for him being so protective, the only thing you could blame was the internet. He had been looking up what changes your body went through during the many weeks of your pregnancy, and he happened to stumble across the complications that could occur as well. That’s when you got your very panicked, very helpful, and slightly irritating Jisung. 
By the time you reached the third trimester though, you were so exhausted and your back ached so badly that you didn’t even mind it anymore. He had managed to get the rest of the guys in on helping you too, especially if he was in the studio for a long period of time- which was anything longer than 45 minutes -he’d have one of them check up on you and see if you needed anything. 
When he was home or when he got home, he’d shower you in attention and affection, kissing you first before pressing a kiss to your stomach and asking how your day has been, although his gaze would be focused solely on your stomach, absolutely mesmerized by the way your stomach looked when his daughter would move. He loved the way she reacted to his voice, you on the other hand could never get comfortable, although you once again, would never tell him that. He just looked so happy, and he’d get so excited, telling everyone how his baby girl recognized his voice and would move whenever she heard him. 
Of course, she decided to stay in for a little longer than the expected 40 weeks, and by the 41st week you were begging the doctors to induce you. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to use the bathroom or take a shower without Jisung being right outside the door asking if you were okay or if you needed help every 5 seconds. He really did mean well, but you couldn’t wait for your daughter to be out so that you’d be able to not only get some peace, but also some privacy where you needed it most. 
It was all worth it though when you saw Jisungs face light up at the sight of his daughter when she was born. Tears of joy streamed down his face as his hands seemed to automatically reach out for her, his lips formed into a circle, absolutely amazed at the fact that this, not so little, baby just came from you. If there had been nothing else to prove to you how good of a father he would be, this moment, the moment she was placed into his arms and you could just see it in his face, his entire world was complete now… He was going to be the best father. 
///
5 years seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and the little baby girl that would once curl up in yours and Jisungs arms to fall asleep, your little cuddle bug, was now a ball of energy that would whip around the house being the biggest goofball, much like her father, to bring a smile to people's faces. She was the life and the light of any room she went into, but at night, when she’s run out all of her energy and she’s tuckered out, you and Ji will catch a glimpse of your little baby girl, curled up in the middle of his and your bed. 
She was more energetic than usual, but that’s because it was her birthday. Her party wouldn’t be until the weekend, but you still wanted to do a little something special to celebrate the official day. Jisung had to work, but he didn’t want to get stuck at the office so he decided to work from home so he could just pack up his laptop and not deal with the commute, he’d be right at home with you and Jisoo when he was done. 
It was hard to keep her occupied, she was so excited and she knew she had presents to open, and you were trying to not only prepare her favorite dinner but also make cupcakes for her. There was so much to do, and you were doing it all on your own so that Ji could work. You were one person, you only had 2 eyes, although a lot of people joke and say that mothers have eyes on the backs of their heads, it seemed like those eyes were focused on the timer on the oven to make sure the cupcakes didn’t burn. That’s why you didn’t realize that she had, at some point, strolled into Jisungs makeshift office/studio. 
“Daddy.” She said, standing right beside him, tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie to try to get his attention. Her smile was wide, two little dimples adorning both of her cheeks as she looked up at him with the brightest eyes. He sighed harshly through his nose, pulling out one of his earphones to look down at her. “You coming now?” She was completely oblivious to the glare that her father was wearing, or at least, she was oblivious to the fact that it was directed entirely towards her. 
“I’m really busy right now, go bother your mother or something.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he tried to turn his attention back to his computer, but Jisoo wasn’t going to allow it. She tugged on his sleeve again, her mouth open to say something else, but Jisung spoke before she could. “Get out. You’re such a burden sometimes, Jesus Christ!” He seethed, his head falling back as he let out a loud groan. 
Jisoo wasn’t oblivious anymore, no, she was heartbroken, and quite honestly confused. She quickly scurried away from him, sniffling softly as she ran out of the room. Neither you or Jisung had ever yelled at her, let alone raised your voices around her. She was shocked, she was devastated, and she immediately ran to you. 
“What’s wrong, honey?” You dropped everything you had been doing to scoop her up and set her on the counter top, working quickly to wipe away the tears that poured down her puffy little cheeks. Your immediate worry was that she had hurt herself, your eyes scanning over her head, her face, her arms, and her legs to look for any visible signs of scrapes or bruises, but there were none. “Did you get a booboo?” 
Her head shook quickly, her hair whipping around her face as she did before dropping her head. She looked embarrassed, and if she had known the word and what it meant at her age, she’d tell you that that’s exactly how she felt. “I try to tell Daddy that it my birthday…” She started, her sentences broken up by shaky breaths and loud sniffles. “He yell at me… told me get out… He say I a bird hen… I not even know what that means…” 
She might not know what it meant, but you sure as hell knew what he meant, and you were pissed. “You’re not a bird hen, honey. You’re wonderful, and I know that daddy didn’t mean to yell. He just gets lost in his computer sometimes. He loves you though, and mommy loves you too.” You pressed a big, wet kiss to her forehead, trying and succeeding in getting her to giggle so that you could get her mind off of being upset. “How about you go play with your dolls in your room so that I can decorate your cupcakes and they’ll be a surprise. How’s that sound, huh?”
Jisoos smile was back once more, her hands clapping together as you helped her off the counter. You watched her run to her room, her door being shut fast, and rather loud, in her hurry to let you start on her surprise. Truth be told, you just didn’t want her to listen to you talking to Jisung, not just because you didn’t want her to think about it again, but also because the language you were planning on using wasn’t going to be kid friendly at all. 
It took everything in you not to just storm into the room and start yelling, but you knew that would draw her attention, so you walked in as calmly as possible, even though it felt like your blood was boiling. He only made things worse for himself when he let out a sound of annoyance, yanking his earphones out and slamming his hands on his desk. “Oh my god! Wh-” 
“You shut the fuck up and you listen to me you son of a bitch.” You hissed the words through clenched teeth, taking one look behind yourself to make sure Jisoo hadn’t come out of her room before storming over to him, your finger pointed and only an inch from his face. “If you ever make my baby cry like that again, I will personally pack all your shit up and throw you out of this fucking house, you hear me?” 
The momentary shock wore off almost instantly, and he was quickly defensive, although he did back away just a little before he spoke. “You knew I was working. I thought you were going to watch her, but I guess I was wrong about that. I should have just gone into the office today, I would be able to get shit done.” 
The fire that was burning inside you, pure rage that had your blood bubbling, it was like it had built up to the top of your body, completely blinding you with rage and all you could see was red as you slammed his laptop shut before picking it up and shoving it against his chest. “Then go to the fucking office, Jisung! Nobody wants you here anyway!” You shouted, your chest rising and falling heavily with each breath that you took. 
“Fine! I’ll be able to actually get something done! Don’t expect me to come home tonight either, I’m not gonna get yelled at because I’m trying to do my job so I can afford everything that you and Jisoo want!” He yelled right back at you, pushing himself up out of the desk chair and grabbing the rest of his things off of the desk. There had never been a time, up until now, that you had ever wanted to hit him, but your hands were twitching, your entire body was shaking. You wanted to hurt him, not because of the way he was talking to you though, it was the complete sense of disregard that he had for his own daughter. It made you physically sick. 
“I don’t want you to come back tonight. I don’t want you to come back at all. But you will go tell your daughter that you’re not going to be here to celebrate her birthday with her, and you’re going to be honest and tell her that your job is once again more important than her.” You hissed, finally taking a step back before motioning to the door with your hand. “Now get the fuck out.” He didn’t move though, he was completely frozen and all of the color drained from his face. 
“Fuck… Baby, listen-” 
“I said get out! Go! Do your job! Leave!” You were shouting once again, and you hated that you cried when you got angry, it made you feel weak, especially when your voice would crack and break when you were trying to sound strong. He continued to stand there though, looking absolutely defeated. “Please… Just leave… It’s obvious, work will always be more important to you. It’s like deja vu.” 
“That’s not true at-” 
“Mommy…” Jisoos voice came from behind you, and you quickly turned around to face her, trying to force yourself to smile. She wasn’t blind though, she could see that you were crying, and she had heard you and Jisung arguing. She quickly ran to you, her little arms wrapping around your waist. “Don’t cry… It okay. We have cupcakes… I help you make them and… And you help me blow the candles.” 
You nodded your head as you picked her up, holding her tightly against your chest. There was nothing more comforting than the hug of your own child, to know that they care, and even on a day that should have been all her own, she was still looking out for you. 
“We’ll have lots of fun.” You agreed, your throat tightening up and almost choking off your words. “When we finish making the cupcakes and after we eat your yummy dinner, you can open your presents.” It was so hard to look, let alone sound like everything was completely fine, especially when Jisung was still standing there in front of you, like a deer caught in headlights. 
“Does… Does daddy still have to do work?” Jisoo asked, glancing up at you and then looking over her shoulder at Jisung. Of course you wanted to say yes, you were absolutely livid, you wanted him out of the house at least long enough for you to have the chance to cool down, but you also didn’t want to send him away, especially if Jisoo still wanted him there. “I sorry I a bird hen, I not come in no more when you working.” With every word that she said, Jisung looked more and more ashamed, his head dropping lower and lower until you couldn’t even see his face anymore. “Please… Stay home. It my birthday… We gonna sing the song… And we eat cupcakes. That make everyone happy.” 
Regardless of how you felt, how pissed off you truly were, it was Jisoos birthday, and if she wanted her father there, you weren’t going to still make him leave. Jisung knew this, and while it was a small win that his daughter still wanted him around, he also knew that he had a lot of apologizing to do, not just to Jisoo, but to you as well. “You’re not a bird hen, honey pot.” He murmured, squatting down so that he’d be eye level with her. “I’m a big ol’ dummy head and I’m sorry that I made you sad. Can I have a hug?” His arms stretched out as he asked the question, and as if he hadn’t hurt her feelings at all, she ran into his arms, almost knocking him onto his butt in the process. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna help momma make sure you have the best birthday ever, okay?” 
He was really trying his best, he helped you and Jisoo decorate the cupcakes, he even attempted to help you finish making dinner. There was tension there between the two of you, words that had gone unsaid due to Jisoos perfectly timed interruption, but she was none the wiser to the feeling, she was just happy that the both of you were still there to celebrate with her. That’s what was most important anyway, making sure your daughter was happy. 
“Hey honey, you wanna see something funny?” Jisung asked, and the little nickname had both you and Jisoo giving him your attention, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him at all. His finger was covered in icing that he had swiped off one of the cupcakes at the center of the table, and he was slowly creeping over to the kitchen where you were plating up dinner for the three of you. “I think momma would look super cute if her nose was bright pink, don’t you, honey?” 
Jisoo was laughing already, clapping her hands together as she shouted out her agreement to his question. “Ji…” You warned, trying to retreat from him, but he was closing in fast and there wasn’t much room for escape. “Don’t do it…” You tried to sound stern, but your daughter's twinkling giggles had you cracking a smile, and before you knew it, you were cornered against the counter and Jisung whose finger was inches from your nose. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it off.” He whispered, winking at you playfully, and if you weren’t still harboring irritation from the way he had acted earlier, the action would have had butterflies swarming in your stomach. “Boop!” He chimed as he wiped the icing on the tip of your nose, laughing along with Jisoo now as she ran over to look at you. 
“Momma look like a clown!” She said between fits of giggles, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with her and Jisung. You loved seeing your daughter happy, it had become your main goal in life, your number one priority, to make sure she was always happy, and if looking like a clown made her smile and laugh the way she was, then you’d dress up like a clown every day for her. 
“She’s the prettiest clown, isn’t she?” Jisung asked, and Jisoo nodded in agreement. “But we can’t have clowns at the dinner table, can we?” And the question had your daughter giggling even louder as she shook her head no. “Grab me a paper towel real quick, honey. Let me help momma clean off the clown nose.” He watched her long enough to make sure her back was turned before he cupped your cheeks, playfully licking the icing off your nose and then pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m the biggest clown, and I’m sorry… Thank you for letting me stay… I love you so much.” It all happened extremely fast, his words being rushed out, it felt like he was going 60 miles per hour, and by the time he had finished what he had to say, Jisoo was just heading over with the paper towel sheet and your face was still scrunched up. 
“Where momma nose go?” Jisoo asked as she handed Jisung the paper towel, her head tilted curiously to the side. 
“I think it just fell off. It’s okay though. Momma is still pretty. I got the two prettiest girls in the world in my house, I’m a lucky guy!” Jisung cheered, and it was painfully obvious that he was doing his best to suck up to you, and it sucked that it was working so well. It was impossible to stay mad at him. That didn’t mean that you weren’t still slightly upset though. You wanted… No, you needed to talk to him. 
///
By the end of the night, which lasted longer than any other night, you were exhausted and the argument from earlier had practically been forgotten, at least for now. Jisoo had opened all of her presents, and, even though you and Jisung had promised her that she could play with them in the morning, she had given her best puppy dog eyes and ended up playing with each of her presents for half an hour each, and of course Jisung had gone overboard in buying her gifts. 
“Are you coming to bed?” You asked, standing in the doorframe to the bedroom, looking down the hall and into the living room where Jisung was sitting in the armchair, his face hidden in his hands. “What’s wrong?” You knew he hadn’t fallen asleep that quick, he had just carried Jisoo into her bed after she had fallen asleep in the middle of her brand new toy pile. 
“She’s going to remember that I yelled at her, she’s going to remember what I said to her for the rest of her life. Deep down, she’s gonna hate me… And I know that you hate me too. I hate me… I can’t believe I said that to her. I was so focused on the computer and… I flipped out on you. I didn’t even deserve to be here with either of you today after what I did… I’m a shitty father and a horrible husband.” He rubbed his hands over his face when he finally lifted his head and you could tell that he had been crying. His eyes were puffy and his nose and his cheeks were blotchy and red. 
How long had these thoughts been eating away at him? You wondered if the way he had been acting earlier was actually him sucking up to you or if he was just trying to keep his mind from going to where it was right now. “Ji…” You whispered out his name, and even though you were beyond tired at this point, you couldn’t just go to bed when he was like this. He might have upset Jisoo and pissed you off, but it seemed like he was more angry at himself than both you and Jisoo combined. “Nobody hates you, I could never hate you, and neither could Jisoo. What you did today was fucked up… But I already yelled at you for it, hell, I almost kicked you out for it. But I don’t hate you. I love you too much, and so does your daughter.” 
“I hurt her… I made her cry, Y/N. What kind of father am I?” 
“You’re the best father a child could ever ask for.” His eyebrows lowered with confusion at your answer, his bottom lip in a seemingly permanent pout as he looked at you. “You made her cry once in her five years of being on this earth. One time, Ji. But you know what you do more than anything else? You make her laugh, you make her smile, you make her feel loved… And you do all of those things for me too. Me and Jisoo are the luckiest girls in the world because we have you.” His pout slowly started to go away, turning into a slight smile as you made your way over to where he was sitting and you dropped down onto his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he nuzzled his face against your back. “Plus, if it makes you feel any better… I’ve made her cry about ten times this week already.” 
Jisungs mouth fell open in shock, the entire upper half of his body leaning over so he could look at you. “What?! What did you do to hurt my baby girl?” He asked, and you were sure that right now he was mocking the way you had yelled at him earlier, but you could also see that he was interested in the cause of you making his daughter cry. 
“Whenever we go grocery shopping, she asks to go down the toy aisle to look at the toys… And then she ends up wanting everything that she sees, and I have to tell her no. So she cries, and this week especially, I told her that she’ll be getting a whole bunch of new toys, but… You know how she is.” He nodded his head understandingly. “And then… She tells me that whenever she goes shopping with you, that you get her everything she wants.” You turned your head to face him, and now he was wearing a sheepish grin, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. You laughed lightly, squishing his cheeks between your palms and pressing a kiss to his puckered lips. “Do you feel better now?” He nodded quickly, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the living room. “Good, because I’m so tired and I can’t fall asleep without you next to me. Let’s go.” 
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star-girl69 · 8 months
Note
i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔
no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)
okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE
she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU
she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself
like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you
she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol
but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!
and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP
and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”
excuse me????
“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”
“DIE”
she just laughs and takes your shoes off
she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you
clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat
“did you eat today?”
“babe you SAW me at lunch”
“just making sure….”
you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!
she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side
bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔
when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF
bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”
and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????
she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!
anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear
and an emotionally stunted caveman
she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you
idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)
so she quickly adapts to do all these little things
if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand
QUEEN of opening jars for you
if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you
also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.
like that one meme
“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”
“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”
also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup
finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER
like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head
you make it seem so effortless
she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy
so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..
also she’s constantly bragging about you
“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”
ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane
“yeah y/n is so pretty”
“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”
even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.
will she stop? no ofc not
she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words
loves kissing you all over
KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭
anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me
she’s just always touching you
hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere
hand around your waist
SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES
no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating
if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together
whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want
so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing
will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED
she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly
she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.
on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you
partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep
if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit
she’s a super light sleeper i feel like
always on the guard fr ✊
a little bit better when you’re there tho
so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep
like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?
hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop
you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔
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zhongrin · 1 year
Text
“honey, can you… leave me alone?”
— (sometimes, we all just need some downtime for ourselves)
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, diluc, kaeya, kaveh, thoma, albedo, wanderer, xiao
◇ tags ◇ angst with comfort, established relationship, petnames
◇ a/n ◇ oh wow! guys!! i wrote angst with comfort!!! guys!!!!!!! are you proud of me????? this is kinda self-indulgent bc i wrote this when i was just. tired. you know, those moments where you genuinely just want to shut down and be in your own company? yeah.
𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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zhongli smiles patiently. and if he judged that you would allow him to, he would place a kiss on top of your head before stepping away. his movements are graceful and calculated, amber eyes ever so observant as he watches the droop of your lashes and the downturn of your lips.
ah. you’re in that kind of mood.
with a firm nod, he promises to give you all the space you needed, as long as at the end of the day you return to his arms. a few hours or days of waiting would certainly make him miss you terribly, but zhongli is a patient man, and your well-being matters most.
“of course. you’ll come to me when you’re ready, yes?”
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al haitham understands your needs very well. contrary to most people’s beliefs, he would put them just as equally high - if not more - than his own needs most of the time.
he simply nods upon your words and, after much consideration, would place his soundproof headphones on your side before he leaves the room, carefully minding his footsteps as he walks towards kaveh’s room to inform the architect of the situation and remind him to tone his antics down.
“alright. call me if you need anything.”
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diluc would automatically ask you if something is wrong or is bothering you - it’s his protective instincts, don’t blame him too much - but he knows not to probe further when you give him that look.
he offers for a maid to deliver your favorite warm drink later, and with one last comforting squeeze of his hand on top of yours, he leaves, his head full of questions and his heart set to spoil you rotten the moment you return to his side.
“adelinde? tell the maids to skip cleaning [name]’s study today. and tell the workers to be especially quiet when they walk about the second floor.”
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kaeya might only have half the eyesight normal people have, yet he’s anything but inattentive, especially when it comes to you. he settles with a light, fleeting caress upon your cheek with his gloved hand, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before retreating, offering you a sympathetic grin.
“i got you, babe. i’ll be at the office doing paperwork for once, but you can visit me anytime, okay?”
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thoma holds back the urge to fuss over you like the mother hen that he is.
he knows about this habit of yours - sometimes lady ayaka exhibits the same behavior - so he knows he shouldn’t be too worried. you always get over this eventually; what you need now is time, and just like any other point in time in your relationship, he is more than willing to accommodate all of your desires.
“do you need me to sleep at the couch tonight? it’s really no trouble at all, love. anything that makes you most comfortable, okay?”
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kaveh visibly pouts and looks like he’s about to cry when you ask him for such a request.
he can’t help it, okay? he wants to hold and kiss and cherish you constantly! so having to deliberately spend some time apart from you is torture to him… plus, those tired eyes of yours hurt his poor empathetic heart more than anything.....
with a saddened nod, he fiddles his fingers and gives you a pair of wet puppy eyes.
“are you sure, baby? …... you know you can tell me anything, right? …… whenever you’re ready, okay, precious? i’ll be in the living room, then…. come find me soon, okay, my love?”
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albedo doesn’t even bat an eye. he’s already long since memorized your behavioral patterns, and from your recent ventures, he did conclude that this was going to happen. all within expectations, he muses, yet he can’t help but feel saddened at the exhaustion prominently displayed on your features.
with a soft smile, he places his specially curated ‘care package’ on your lap along with a gentle kiss on your cheek before exiting the room and hanging a “do not disturb - contact albedo instead” sign right in front of the door.
“there are a few snacks and calming scented candles inside, along with a few interesting puzzles and crafts. i thought you might like them and find them relaxing. i’ll be at the lab - just send a message through sucrose or timaeus if you need me.”
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wanderer’s automatic response is a half-fearful, half-angry “are you fucking serious? hell no!”, but the second emotion is amplified when he sees the murkiness in your expression.
he swears to inflict pain upon whoever dared to put this expression on your face, but he falters when you explain your thoughts the best you can in your current headspace. eventually, with a scowl on his face and a gruff "fine.", the door closes behind him and he slides onto the floor. sure, you can shoo him away, but he has no intention to move from that spot until you reopen the said door.
“….. hmph. guess being a puppet is a good thing at times like these.”
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xiao relates to your struggles far too well. he simply nods and teleports out from the room as fast as he could, not wanting his karmic debt to affect your mood further negatively.
throughout it all, your silent protector watches from afar and listens to the wind around you ever so cautiously. just because he agreed to give you space, it doesn’t mean he can’t continue to make sure you’re safe and sound, after all.
“understood. you need only call my name when you are ready to see me.”
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town
3K notes · View notes
leaderwonim · 6 months
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BUT WHY? WHY NOT.
pairing. ghostface!park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary. in a sudden turn of events, you ask with shaky tears why your boyfriend, park sunghoon, is doing what he’s doing. the answer he gives you is more terrifying than the whole situation itself.
warnings. kinda suggestive at some parts, vivid descriptions of killing, mentions of mental illness, hurt no comfort, cursing, one of the characters has a gun
tagging baes @saursoob @moons-v @wonniestars
recommended playlist. sometimes & race by alex g
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“You know I love you and I’d never do anything to harm you, right?”
Park Sunghoon always loved to say that to you, especially when you separated your mouth from his and you’d give him those eyes that told him you’d do anything for him.
You were just so easy. Easy prey to catch for big strong intimidating Park Sunghoon. Easy prey to feast upon.
He was a gentleman. Looking back at the past 7 months of your relationships, you never once remembered having to open a door handle by yourself. His hand was already there before you could even touch the metal knob.
“What boyfriend would I be if I let you open doors all by yourself?” He’d say with an eyebrow raise and a smirk.
Even though he was clearly teasing you, you felt giddy that you had such a great boyfriend like him.
You just wish you saw the signs sooner.
🫀
The first red flag was how twitchy Sunghoon would get at random times. Sure, it was normal for Sunghoon to be a bit shy—even awkward—but the sudden twitchiness didn’t go unnoticed by you. It was almost if he was uncomfortable in his own skin, desperate to get out.
But Park Sunghoon was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, the perfect son, and the perfect boy, there was nothing wrong with him, right?
Right.
“I don’t know,” Sana says as she shakes her head, clearly frightened by what’s happening. “I feel like someone is stalking us.”
Your friend group collectively starts comforting her, all besides your boyfriend who sat next to you with a frown.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you say, rubbing Sana’s hands comfortingly. “Right Hoonie?”
“Yeah.” If there’s another thing about your boyfriend, he’s good at reassuring people. “Maybe you’re overthinking Sana? It’s okay, you’re safe with us.”
“He’s right.” Hyoseop, one of your other friends, chimes in. “Besides San, you can’t let this scary moment dictate your life!“
Sana nods solemnly. “I guess. Are we still on that camping trip this weekend?”
“Hell yeah we are!” Your friend group cheers, which is more than enough to make Sana feel better about the whole situation.
🫀
“Sleeping tents?”
“Check.”
“Flashlights?”
“Check.”
“Batteries?”
“Check.”
“Tooth—”
“Baby.” Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, putting his chin on your shoulder. “I promise we have everything, let’s go before we’re late and Eunae makes a big deal about it.”
You giggle, turning around to give him a proper hug. He smelt exactly like the vanilla scented candles you loved so much.
“You’re right, I don’t want Eunae on our asses in the middle of the woods.”
Sunghoon drives the both of you in his green shiny Jeep, the one his dad had bought him last month. The camp site was about 2 hours from your house, so you plugged your headphones in, leaning against the window as one of Sunghoon’s hands comes to hold your thigh.
“Wake up sleepyhead.” He says, flicking your forehead which makes you jolt from your sleep.
“Yah Hoonie! Don’t do that,” your cheeks puff out in annoyance, and your boyfriend can’t help but laugh, pinching it between his thumb and index finger.
“I texted Hyoseop, he says they’re already all here.” Sunghoon opens up the trunk, pulling out all your stuff with a grunt. “Jesus, it’s just 2 nights and we’re packing like we’re moving here or something.”
You roll your eyes, “we need to be as prepared as possible! I don’t even like camping, but Eunae insisted.”
“Well Eunae’s a bitch.”
You slap his arm, making the boy jump. “Hoon! You can’t say that out loud.”
“You’re thinking it too baby.” He swings his heavy duffle over one of his shoulders, his other arm holding the gigantic tent you guys had bought to share for the 2 nights.
“I don’t know why you couldn’t just put all your things in our big backpack.” You say, already feeling out of breath as you guys make your way to the site. “You don’t even have that much clothes anyway Hoonie.”
“Just wanted my own bag, that’s all.” He smiles. “Plus, the backpack is already extra heavy with all your stuff.”
You whine at his words, making him chuckle.
“Y/N! Sunghoon!” The voice of Inyoup, Hyoseop’s brother, echoes through the area. “You made it!”
“Course we did.” Sunghoon dabs up the boy, which leaves you to say hi to Eunae and Jihyun.
“Where’s Sana?” You ask, not seeing the familiar ginger anywhere in sight.
Jihyun pulls out her phone, checking Sana’s location. “She should be here by 7, said she’s running a little late because of boyfriend things.”
Jihyun sends the group a wiggle of the eyebrows, which stirs up laughter and a gross! from Inyoup.
“7 is gonna be so dark though, I’ll make sure to go fetch her.” Hyoseop says. “Now c’mon, let’s get a bonfire settled!”
🫀
Night time rolls around quicker than expected, the sky above already clearing out with the few stars being the only source of light in the surrounding campsite.
“Are you cold?” Sunghoon asks, pulling you closer to his side as all of you sit on the pieces of wood in front of the fire.
“I’m better now with you generating all this heat.” You joke, digging yourself closer into his side. “Actually, did you bring any extra coats Hoon?”
He doesn’t really hear your question, too engrossed in whatever horror story Jihyun’s telling the group.
“Yeah yeah.” He says, waving you off.
You take yourself out of his hold, going over to your tent. Honestly, it was a mess, but you were able to make out Sunghoon’s filled to the brim duffle bag. You open it, trying to scuffle through for something warm to wear.
“Ah shit,” you whisper, taking your cut finger to your mouth before examining the cut clearer. “What the hell?”
You uncover the jacket that was covering whatever sharp object that had sliced through your finger earlier.
It was a long sharp knife.
Where did your boyfriend get this? You hadn’t seen a knife like this around in your house, and more importantly, why?
It’s probably for precaution. Your brain tells you. Sunghoon is always so careful, he probably wants it to be safe incase any wild animals come.
So you ignore the knife, placing it back inside Sunghoon’s duffle. You place his jacket and make your way outside.
“It’s already 6:50, maybe we should go pick up Sana now.” You say, blowing air into your hands since it was starting to freeze.
“Oh shit, I’m cooking right now.” Hyoseop looks at the grill he’s currently grilling meat on and then back to the group. “Can someone else go get her? Preferably a guy, we shouldn’t let the girls walk out this dark.”
“I’ll go get her.” Sunghoon offers. “Let me just put on another layer really quick.”
You take a seat next to Inyoup, sipping on a glass bottle of Coca Cola.
“You think we can curl our hair with these like Olivia Rodrigo said in her song?” Jihyun jokes, raising her empty bottle up into the air. “I’m gonna try it.”
“You go do that.” Eunae scoffs, clearly unimpressed with the girl.
🫀
It takes approximately about 25 minutes for you and the group to start worrying, not seeing Sana or Sunghoon in sight.
“The parking isn’t that far right? They should’ve been here 5 minutes ago.” Hyoseop says, setting the silver plate of food onto one of the wooden logs near the grill.
“No yeah, I’m getting worried.” Jihyun stands up, “I’m gonna get a flashlight and look for them at this point.”
Jihyun makes her way to the tent she shares with Eunae, which was right across from yours.
“Shit shit shit,” she mumbles, her hands rummaging through the messy tent. “Shit!”
“What’s wrong?” You ask, quickly running over. “Jihyun, what’s wrong?”
“Some animal might’ve came in earlier and ruined our things.” Jihyun places a hand on her forehead, clearly stressed about the whole ordeal. “Please tell me there’s still a flashlight.”
She checks through her and Eunae’s bag, only to find everything but a flashlight.
“It’s okay Ji, me and Hoon have a few in our tent.” You reassure her, which makes the girl feel a bit better.
“Sunghoon’s back!”
Inyoup’s announcement makes you practically bolt out of Jihyun’s tent right away.
“Hoon!” You rush over to him, cupping his face. “Why’d you take so long? Where’s Sana?”
He gently peels your hand off, looking back at the group with a smile. “She says she forgot her toothbrush on the way and she’s gonna drive to the nearest CVS. Should be back in 20 minutes.”
The rest of the group seems to buy Sunghoon’s words, all except Eunae.
“Well why did you take so long then, Sunghoon?”
“Oh fuck off Eunae.” Inyoup exclaims. “It’s too dark right now for you to start an argument.”
Eunae scoffs. “You know what? Fine. I’m gonna take a dip in the lake, I don’t want to be near any of you right now.”
When she’s finally gone, Inyoup whistles. “I still don’t know why we’re all friends with her when she makes everything miserable.”
“Let’s just calm down.” As usual, your boyfriend is the mediator, which makes you smile and lean into his side.
“You can’t be worrying me like that Hoon!” You groan, hitting him in the chest jokingly. “Had me thinking you were lost.”
“Baby you know me,” he grins. “I’m great at navigating in the night time.”
He suddenly pulls away, “ah, I’m so hot from all the walking. I’m gonna go dip my legs in the lake for a bit.”
“Okay,” you give him a peck on the cheek. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“You can come if you want baby.” He looks down to make direct eye contact. “I know Hyoseop just made beef. You wanna eat that first and meet me later?”
You think about it a second before nodding, placing one last kiss on his face. “You’re right. I’ll see you in a bit Hoonie.”
🫀
Sunghoon sighs in relief, finally glad to have you off his back for a while.
He takes out the familiar black suit and mask, the one that is seen so many times in the scream franchise. The ghostface mask and suit.
He places it over his body, the mask fitting his face so perfectly that he’s in awe.
He already knows his first victim.
Choi fucking Eunae.
God, did she annoy him. Always getting into petty disagreements, always making a ruckus out of nothing. And tonight? The way she accused him so adamantly, the way her eyes crinkled on disgust as she looked at him.
He had to get rid of her.
“Surprise Eunae.”
Eunae’s arms are no use to Sunghoon’s muscular ones that’s wrapped around her throat.
“Help!” Eunae tries to scream, but it only comes out squeaky and inaudible.
“Poor little helpless Eunae,” Sunghoon taunts. “Taking a dip in the lake to cool her nerves because she just can’t help her silly little thoughts in her head.”
He points the sharp end of the knife directly at her throat, making a slight tear which lets blood flow down.
“Why are you doing this?” Eunae chokes up, tears already falling like a waterfall. “Sunghoon?”
She wouldn’t have known it was him because of the mask, but the voice taunting her earlier gave it all away.
“Goodnight Eunae.”
Sunghoon stabs the girl repeatedly until she stops squirming in his hold. Then, he lets go of the body, watching as it floated face down on the lake.
They’ll find her by next week, he thinks. The cops—of course. Not your friends, not you. You all would be dead by tomorrow morning before you even knew Eunae was missing.
“Aw man.” He frowns. “She got my gloves all bloody.”
🫀
Sunghoon knew you would come looking for him later, he just didn’t know when. Therefore, he knew he had to leave the premises immediately as to not be caught near Eunae’s body.
He already knew his next victims, anyway. The two brothers, Kang Hyoseop and Kang Inyoup.
He had already gotten rid of Sana, who, at the sight of him in the ghostface mask and suit, barfed all over the parking lot. He found it both amusing and fascinating—how the human mind could freak itself out so much to the point of physical sickness.
“Eunae! Is that you? Look, Hyoseop said I should apologize earlier for what I did, and although I don’t want to, he might be right.”
Maybe Sunghoon didn’t have to leave. Maybe Kang Inyoup showing up now was a sign from the universe.
He quickly makes his way behind one of the tall trees, which was enough to hide him but also enough to see Inyoup’s movements.
Inyoup goes towards the dock of the lake, “Eunae? Why the hell are you swimming like that?”
He giggles, not realizing how serious the situation was and that Choi Eunae had been dead for 10 minutes already.
Inyoup gets closer, his fingers gripping at Eunae’s arm. When he flips her over, he lets out a scream of terror, which has Sunghoon coming to put his hands over the boy’s mouth.
“What the fuck—” Inyoup cries out, eyes still not believing what they just witnessed. “What the..”
“It’s a real shame.” Sunghoon whispers in his ear, the knife he’s holding is dangerously close to Inyoup’s abdomen. “When Y/Nie first introduced me to the group, you were so welcoming and kind to me. You even opened up to me before Hyoseop.”
“Sunghoon?” Inyoup breathes out, and he can’t help but feel betrayal sink into his heart. “No, please, you can’t do this.”
“Didn’t you say you got that job offer in Osaka? Japan is beautiful.” Sunghoon takes a jab, which causes Inyoup to move forward in Sunghoon’s hold, groaning from the pain and impact. “It’s too bad you won’t ever step foot in Osaka.”
And he kills him. Drags Inyoup’s body into the lake, which floats along with Eunae’s.
“You can apologize to her in the afterlife.” Sunghoon shrugs, finding himself oh so funny.
“One Kang brother down, the next to go.”
🫀
Now Kang Hyoseop was no idiot. He knew his brother and Eunae had been gone for far too long, he knew Sunghoon had been gone for far too long. And Sana? She didn’t even come to the camping site like Sunghoon had confidently stated earlier.
“Hyoseop.” Sunghoon shows up behind him, only this time, the suit and mask are off.
“Sunghoon.” Hyoseop tries his best to give a sincere smile, but Sunghoon knows.
He knows.
“You didn’t have any food Sunghoon, you must be hungry.”
Sunghoon doesn’t know what Hyoseop’s playing at, but he’s already sick of the boy. His body feels itchy, and he has the urge to kill kill kill.
“Where’s Y/N and Jihyun?”
“Oh you know, at the lake. They needed to cool themselves off after such a hot dinner.”
Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise, and he finds his itching fingers reaching for the knife that’s tucked behind him.
“Hyoseop.” He says.
“Yes Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon pins down the boy, which is a much harder struggle than Eunae or Inyoup. Hyoseop had been going to the gym, and the boy was no weakling when it came to fights.
“I fucking knew it.” Hyoseop spits at Sunghoon. “You were the common denominator. Always so secretive and weird around us. I knew it.”
He says that with such disgust that it has Sunghoon cackling, impressed with the guy beneath him.
“But you didn’t say anything Hyoseop? You just let yourself go on a camping trip with the one guy you knew had bad intentions?”
“Fuck you!” Hyoseop tries to kick Sunghoon off of him, but it only makes the boy on top press on him harder. “I wanted to be wrong you know. I wanted to be completely wrong about thinking you were some fucked up loser for the sake of Y/N. But God, you are even worse than that.”
Sunghoon leans closer to Hyoseop, their cheeks touching.
“See you in hell Hyoseop.”
Then all the struggling stops.
It’s so easy, Sunghoon thinks. He didn’t even have to take months to plan this all out, when Choi Eunae said she wanted to go on a camping trip, he knew it was the perfect opportunity to strike.
🫀
“We have to go.” Jihyun says, grabbing your arms.
You were busy crying, feeling disgusted and horrified at the two bodies of your close friends in the lake.
Who the hell had done this to them?
“Where’s Hoonie?” You cry out. “We have to get Hoonie.”
“We’ll find him.” Jihyun reassures you, but her brain says the opposite.
She didn’t want to find Sunghoon. Like Hyoseop, she had a weird feeling about your boyfriend from the get-go. She just didn’t have the guts to tell you.
“Y/N, shh.” Jihyun places her index finger against your lips. “You hear that?”
It’s the sound of a body dragging, and you could make out the silhouette of someone tall.
“I have a gun in my tent,” Jihyun whispers. “I have to go get it. Can you distract him?”
You nod timidly, feeling fear strike every nerve in your body.
You throw a big stick across to the lake, which makes a dipping sound that has the man turning.
Jihyun, who had been the star of the track team in her high school days, runs like she’s never ran before, almost tripping over her own foot.
The man drops the body, and starts getting closer to the lake, making your breath hitch.
You watch Jihyun in the tent, letting yourself let out a breath of relief when she shows you the small gun in her hand.
“Surprise!”
Suddenly, the man’s sights are no longer on the lake, but on you.
His ghostface mask bashes against your face, making you let out a whine of pain.
“Jihyun! Jihyun!” You scream.
Jihyun panics, her hands shakily try to position the gun so that it won’t hit you.
She shoots, her eyes closing from the shock after the bullet leaves the gun, making a loud sound.
The man who had a hold on you falls back, grunting in pain.
His arms are behind his back, trying desperately to keep his body sitting upright.
“That’s what you get fucker!” Jihyun shouts, running over to you and pulling you close to her side. “For what you did to our friends.”
You hesitantly walk to the man, who’s body was shaking. You take off his mask, only to reveal the one person you wished it wasn’t.
Park Sunghoon.
Your boyfriend.
“Sunghoon?” You sob out. “What? Why? Why? Why are you doing this?”
You’re practically shouting now, horrified at the thought of your boyfriend killing your own friends.
His mouth was dripping blood, and his body looks like it was spasming.
Still, he grins, eyes filled with something you can’t recognize. He has no remorse.
“Why not?”
Jihyun decides she’s had enough, pointing the gun directly at Sunghoon’s head.
His once shaking body crumples to the floor immediately, and you feel your knees buckling at the sight.
“Shhh,” Jihyun hugs you from behind, although she too is crying. “Let’s get out of here.”
It all starts to make sense now. The flashlights disappearing, the knife you found in Sunghoon’s duffle.
Although all of this is terrifying, his last words still rang in your ear.
Why not?
697 notes · View notes
kawareo · 3 months
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Thank you lovely people for giving me a chance to ramble more about something (this is genuine, i mean no shade)
I find it really cool how every character has a parallel with Durge! In general every single romance pairing has reasons for why i think "yeah i could see them being good together", but I love those for Durge especially since I think about Durges way too much
Gale. Prodigy, Chosen of a God(ess) with a relationship that went far past god/Chosen, with him and Mystra being 'lovers' and Durge and Bhaal being 'family'. They were also both groomed to a degree to fulfill a role and have since fallen from grace of their gods.
Lae'zel. Raised in what is essentially a cult, having her entire world fall apart when she learns the truth about Vlaakith and Orpheus (while Durge's world falls apart when they learn about who they are in act 3). Cult has harsh and merciless punishments for those that disappoint, with death and beatings for githyanki and... Well. You know what, for Durge (looking at you, deleted bad ending).
Shadowheart. Having an equivalent of an electric collar on you that her God(ess) can punish her with (for Durge, that punishment isnt so immediate but Bhaal can literally stop their heart if he wants to). Amnesia. Having to choose between leading your cult or leaving everything you thought you knew and being an outcast. Depending on what you do with Shart, they also both kill their parents.
Karlach. Having your body changed without your consent, in drastic ways that you have no control over; the engine for Karlach, lobotomy + Slayer form for Durge (slayer in a more minor way but i will say that even in evil route you dont get a say whether or not you transform the first time). They both hurt people that get close to then without meaning to. They both have someone more powerful who sees them as property. Also, ties to Gortash.
Wyll. Daddy issues! And being rejected and outcast by your Father, wanting to prove yourself that you're still worthy. They were also both given shitty fucking names by their dads. They both at some point chose between power at the cost of freedom and freedom at the cost of literally everything; Wyll when he made a deal with Mizora, Durge at multiple points through the game when it comes to Bhaal. They both struggle with being tied to an evil, manipulative being that wants them isolated and weak and alone. Similar with Karlach, unwilling body modification, but specifically one that turns you into a 'monster'.
Astarion. 'Father'. 'Siblings' that you are in constant and brutal competition with, for momentary approval of your Creator who will never have enough of anything short but the world. Creator who's end goal very much includes you dying for him. Having no bodily autonomy as your Creator can literally violate your mind whenever. Sexual abuse. Struggling with bloodthirst! Your existence itself is violent, you can't live without hurting someone! (Bloodthirst for Ass, Urges for Durge)
Halsin. (Potential) guilt for something you have done, being pushed in a leadership position (Halsin at the grove, Durge with companions) that you may or may not be unsuited for. Being so, so alone, without anyone to care for your feelings. They both also have sides of them that they sometimes can't control, with the Bear and Urges, or more literally, the Slayer.
Minthara. A proud and efficent warrior that got one upped by a person they underestimated. Ties to Orin. Living as someone with the highest social status in a brutal, cruel society. Fanatic worship of an objectively evil god(ess) and then the betrayal that follows, waking up from quite literal brainwashing, seeing how your God(ess) turns against you.
And I could go on! Theyre all so good and interesting and depending on what path you decide to take, there is always something that Durge can relate to on with any companion! I tried to avoid repeating points or talking about my Durge specifically by just talking about what is set in canon for them, and there is still! So! Much!
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celenawrites · 1 year
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pretty when you cry
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pairing - Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
word count - 2.4k
warnings - Ghost is a bit of a dick but he gets better, Reader is a bit of a crybaby here but it's just cuz she's very in tune with her emotions, Simon is emotionally constipated and cannot handle feelings, some fluff, heavy-ish (?) angst, open ending, etc.
Note - Kinda got tired of writing fluffy stuff all the time and my mental health is fraying atm, so I decided to (hopefully) hurt some folks with this little piece. Enjoy!
AO3 Version
Divider by @/firefly-graphics
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You cry easy. 
That's what Ghost thought of you when you first joined Task Force-141. 
While he has always been skeptical of any new additions (often temporary) to the team he has come to love and trust after going through hell and back, Price was convinced that your impeccable record on stealth ops, your physical agility, and your skills as a sniper were much needed. 
Reluctantly, Ghost silently accepts his Captain’s decision.
However, time and time again, your sensitive nature had him worried that you might prove to be a heavy liability to the team. 
When you stub your toe against the leg of the table, you let out a few tears of frustration and pain, cursing everyone and their mothers while you hold your injured foot in the air as you comically jump around the kitchen, even though your lack of spatial awareness was to be blamed here. It is almost always a comical sight, Gaz rubbing your back in comfort while you curse and cry, failing to hide his amusement. Soap is not afraid to laugh at your face for it, while Price has this twinkle in his eye as he asks you to sit and eat something for breakfast. 
Simon ignores the flutter in his stomach when you take a seat next to him on the table, your wet hair letting out wafts of jasmine - all for him to smell and keep to himself. 
You cry when you accidentally let the door close on your pinky, dramatic hiccups leaving you as Soap ties up your little finger with white bandages, stroking your hair as he consoles you, "That's a brave lassie, yeah? You got this". (Soap has always been good with people, Simon notes.) Sometimes, Soap will be ‘kind enough’ to offer you to kiss your injuries better and you’d shove him, your face giving away the embarrassment and the humorous jest you feel around the demolition expert. 
You weep uncontrollably when you watch Marley and Me with Gaz in the rec room. Price and Ghost had been passing by, discussing the aftermath of a mission they had just returned from when they heard loud sobs coming from the usually empty room. They peer in to find both of you huddled close in soft blankets, a bowl of popcorn propped up in your lap and a box of tissues in Gaz’s lap, as you munch on the buttery snack and cry over the adorable dog finally being put to rest. You lean into Gaz for comfort and Ghost wonders if you still smell of mud and caked blood like you did on the field. 
Price decides to break up the party as he enters the room, clearing up his throat to grab the attention of his Sergeants. Your lip wobbles as he lightly scolds you, his brow laden with concern as he looks at you and tells you both to go get some much-needed rest. You pass him by as you leave the room, your hand being a feather’s touch away from his and he almost holds onto you. (He still has no idea why he almost reacted like that to you)
One time, Price had been sent to help Laswell out on a crucial mission and all you had accomplished during those three and a half weeks was mope around and wish your Captain were here. You’d be lying on the sofa in the common room and you’d whine to your companions. “I’m so bored. I miss Captain. I wish he was here”, you’d pout and Soap and Gaz would gang up on you, teasing you as they asked you whether you had some unresolved feelings for dear Price. (The idea of you coveting Price like a lover seemed ridiculous to him, really. You and the Captain? Not a chance)
And then there was that one time when you had to go on a solo mission (the first of you being on your own since you joined the task force, really) and when you had come back to him them, battered and bloodied and disheveled but still safe and sound and Price lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as if all the weight of the world has disappeared now that you’re back home, back to your team (where you now rightfully belong). You rush to them, running as if you cannot close the distance between them fast enough, and Price hugs you with steady arms as he lets you cry into his shoulder, wetting his uniform as you all but sob in relief, leaning on your Captain for support as your legs turn like jelly, unable to support the weight of your weary body. 
It must’ve been terrifying - being out there on the field, hostility and death surrounding you in all directions and the only person you could possibly rely on is yourself. Keeping yourself safe and sane as you navigate unknown terrain and fight off the monsters who wear the skins of humans and pollute the very Earth they have been raised on. Blood and gore and gunpowder clinging to you like a second skin as you pray to survive another night and make it back home safely. Back to your team. 
Back to your kind captain, and sergeants you have befriended and a cold Lieutenant who sometimes fails to hide the care he carries for you in his brown eyes. 
Price has a look of sympathy and understanding on his face as he drags you to the infirmary, even holding your trembling hand in his warm palm as you flinch at the sight of the large syringe needle and hiss in pain whenever the alcohol-soaked cotton is applied to your cuts. He soothes you with a gentle pat on your back, mindful of your treated injuries as he softly tells you to clean up and maybe get some much needed sleep, asking Gaz to supply you with something to eat before you doze off due to fatigue and the morphine still floating in your system. 
Ghost found it annoying for the most part - sometimes snapping at you to "Shut up and focus" on bad days and while he’s still irked at the sentimentality you possess, something that he and his comrades have willingly allowed to wither and die in their souls, a small part of him - a part of him that still resembles who Simon was, a mimicry of the humanness he hasn’t felt in his dead soul for years, worried about you. Worried sick about you and your emotions and the lack of lid you have on it. Worried if he had been too harsh on you because he doesn’t do emotions, and clearly he is out of his depth when it comes to dealing with people, but especially when it comes to dealing with you. 
He realizes he doesn’t mind you crying all that much. 
You go out for drinks to celebrate your successful solo mission and you spend the time you had lost on the field with your teammates - you play billiards with Gaz against Soap and Ghost and lose sorely, and then you try out a peg of whiskey the Captain has ordered and Price laughs heartily as you sputter and whine as the drink burns your esophagus. You somehow convince Ghost to teach you how to throw darts and he tries to not lean into your warmth as he stands behind you, his gloved hand holding your wrist as he positions you and teaches you how to throw the wooden dart you hold between your smooth fingers, and tells you all he knows about making sure that the little thing hits the dartboard without fail. 
Simon can smell your jasmine shampoo and your citrus perfume on you as he uses his hands to correct your posture. He can feel how soft and pliant you are under him, eager to obey and please him, and all he can think about is what it’d be like - being your confidante, being the voice of reason for you when you’re drowning in emotions, being a sturdy shoulder for you to cry on. 
And he knows for a fact that you’d be all that and more in a heartbeat if he allowed you to. 
You lean onto Simon for support, your head lolling onto his shoulder as he quietly guides you to your bedroom. You hum quietly as he carefully makes you lie down on your bed, removing your shoes for you and when you beg him to help you remove the little makeup you had applied for the night (Price blatantly ignoring the use of contraband because it’s you), he surprisingly complies. Years of applying camo paint on his face give him the needed experience around using micellar water and makeup wipes as he helps you prepare yourself for a night of mindless sleeping, which will be followed by a hangover in the morning plaguing almost all of them. (He swears he’ll force you to drink the ginger tea he’ll make, no matter how much you’d whine about it tasting ‘yucky’. He’d rather not have you hurling over everything like a cat with a persistent hairball stuck in its throat).
“I’m so happy”, you hum to yourself as Simon tilts your head up. 
“Close your eyes, Sergeant”, he orders and you comply, feeling the soaked cotton pad rub against your eyelids as your Lieutenant removes your pink eye shadow. It’s a pretty color on you, Simon thinks but he never says it out loud.  
You stay silent as he finishes up with your work, his calloused fingertips tilting and moving your head to look at any missed spots he might’ve overlooked in the dim bedroom light. 
“All done”, he scruffs, getting up on his feet and he hears you call out to him as he leaves the room.
“What is it?” he asks, wishing to be in his warm bed on this cold night. 
“Thank you, sir”, you say earnestly with your eyes shining with sincerity and an unrecognizable emotion. 
Simon observes you - you lying on your bed in the clothes you wore to the bar, with most of your makeup removed and your eyes struggling to stay open as intoxication and tiredness tempt you to forget the world and sleep.
A moment too late, he asks you, “What are you thanking me for, rookie?”
Only to find you out cold.
He sighs, draping the thin blanket over your shivering body and leaving you alone in your room. 
When you wake up the next day with a hangover headache, your makeup removed and your blanket draped over you tenderly, you make your way to the common kitchen and you ask your moody superior if he remembers anything from the night before - your hazy memory failing to cover the gaps in your memory. 
He gruffly says out, “No” and then hands you a cup of ginger tea, looking at you intensely as he waits for you to whine about the bitter taste of the tea he’s made for you. Knowing it’s a lost fight, you let out an exasperated sigh and thank your Lieutenant for the hangover cure. He looks at you a beat too long before leaving you to your own devices, exiting the room, and going God knows where. 
It takes him time, with all that he is and all that he has been through, to come to a new conclusion for his first impression of you. Steadily with time, Simon realizes that the reason you cry so easily is not because you're weak. 
It’s because you’re brave. 
Brave enough to express yourself and not fear rejection from others. Brave enough to show that you care, to show that you love life and people and everything life has to offer. Brave and kind and valiant in everything you do, Simon is almost jealous of your ability to be so open and free. He wonders what it would be like to let go and just allow himself to feel. 
It’d probably drown him alive. 
It might set him free. 
He’d never get the chance to know though. 
Now again, you sob as you put pressure on his abdomen wound as you talk to him with a wet, unstable voice, “Stay awake for me, Lt. We will all make it”. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. (You need that reassurance more than him anyway).
He’s sluggish, the blood loss and pain makes it hard for him to focus on your blurry face and the skull mask on his face doesn’t help him either. He’s immobile, despite trying his level best to raise his hand up so that he can wipe away the stray tears on your cheeks. He parts his lips to tell you to please stop crying, to tell you how he’s not worth the worry, he’s not worthy of your tears - not when he has vehemently admonished you for them all this time. 
But all he can do is let out a low moan of pain, his eyes rolling back in his head. He can hear your voice, can hear the worry and fear and panic as you call out to him, but everything is hard and he can hear you but comprehending your words is near impossible with the ringing in his ears and the whirring of the helicopter that came in to rescue him and his team. He’s aware of his teammates sitting beside him - he can imagine their solemn faces as they cope with the possibility of him succumbing to his wounds before they make it back to safety. But he focuses on you instead - sweet, radiant you who worries about everyone and everything; who wears her heart on her sleeve and still holds onto the hope that he will make it out of this ordeal alive, even though he can feel his life slipping away from him like the sands of time.
Each breath of his is labored, and Simon wishes for nothing more than to wipe away your tears or to maybe hold your soft self against his injured body, cradling you close to his heart as he vows to survive this for you. Only for you. 
Through black spots and dryness, he blinks up to look at you and he has this realization, a moment of pure ‘Eureka!’ as he observes your worsened state of being. 
You have never been prettier than this instant, crying over him and praying to any kind of deity who’d grant him the boon of life. 
Satisfied with his discovery and suddenly extremely tired, he allows himself to close his eyes, letting the fatigue win and the last thing he sees is you crying for him to stay alive and fight. 
The last thing he hears is your sobs as you beg someone, anyone to save your Lieutenant. 
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Note -
Title is thanks to the song 'Pretty When You Cry' by Lana Del Rey, although I wasn't actually listening to the song while writing this.
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castiwls · 5 months
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tolerate it - a.s
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Paring; anakin x reader
Prompt; 'If it's all in my head, tell me now. Tell me I've got it wrong somehow'
Requested; @simonsbluee
Notes;anakin version:) again all time fav cry song requests are open!
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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The sound of the door opening pulled your attention from the data pad on your lap. A small smile grew on your lips as you placed the pad beside you before standing from your seat. “Your back,” You grinned. “I didn’t think you were due back for another few days.”
Anakin pulled off his robe before turning to you, his grin just as bright. “We got back early.” He closed the distance between you both pulling you into a hug. You felt his arms squeeze tightly around your middle as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck. 
Taking a deep inhale you felt your body relax in his arms. He was safe. After weeks he was finally home again. After a moment you pulled back. His arms still wrapped around your waist. “I missed you.” He spoke quietly, his eyes slowly tracing your face. 
“I missed you too.” You smiled slowly rubbing a hand through the back of his head. “How come you’re back so early?” 
“Some sort of diplomatic thing.” He let out a breath, rolling his eyes causing you to laugh quietly. You knew how much he hated anything which involved politics. In all the time you’d known Anakin he’d never been one for anything which involved long boring conversations.
“The charity ball?” He nodded his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your waist. “Yeah. How did you know about it?” He frowned slightly, a look of confusion filling his features. “I got invited to,” You watched as a small smile grew on his lips at the idea of not being alone. “Well. That should make this slightly more bearable.” 
You nodded thinking for a moment. “We could…we could go…together.” Your voice came out as a whisper. The thought was something which had been sitting on your mind for a while. 
Every event you were invited to end up with you having to go alone. It was always the same questions asking when you were going to get into a relationship if you had anyone special in your life. By this point, you had mastered the act of politely brushing off anyone who brought up the topic, but that didn’t mean that it never hurt.
It hurt that you were unable to share your relationship with the other people in your life. That you had to act as if Anakin was nothing more than an acquaintance when you met him in public. You knew getting into this relationship that there would have to be sacrifices, you never expected anything less. But sometimes you wished that he would have enough trust in you to share your relationship with those closest to you.
Anakin let out a sigh, his gaze moving down to your feet. He pursed his lips slightly, looking back up. “Angel, you know we can’t…” He moved a hand to gently cup your check. “If the council found out about us…I don’t know what they’d do.” he frowned to himself as he spoke, his gaze seemingly growing distant for a moment before he re-focused back on you.
“I can’t risk them finding out.” He rubbed a thumb across your cheek. You kept your face passive as you stared at him. 
Sometimes your relationship felt almost one-sided. You felt committed to him in a way that he could never commit himself to you. While you knew Anakin was by no means in love with the order and their rules you knew he was still committed. You came second.
The thought had you swallowing, trying to push back the sudden rush of emotions that ran through you. “Fine.” You pulled back from his hold before walking back to the main room. Anakin sighed following closely behind you.
“Are you seriously gonna do this again? You know why we can’t do that. It would put my rank at risk!” He stopped as you turned to face him. You jabbed a finger into his chest. “You. You. You. That’s all it ever is. Do you ever think about what I want?”
“Of course, I think about what you want. You are the most important person in my life!” He reached out to grasp your hand. He lowered his voice as he spoke. “Which is why I can’t lose you.”
You rolled your eyes letting out a quiet breath. “You know, sometimes I feel…I feel like you don’t even love me anymore.” You felt your lips quiver slightly as you swallowed back tears. “Like you're only here out of obligation.” 
You watched his face drop slightly. “Of course I love you. You’re my wife.” He stepped closer, his thumb slowly rubbing circles over your palm. “Then why are you so scared of telling the people closest to us that we’re married,” You pulled your palm from his grasp feeling a tear slowly slip down your face. 
“There’s dinner on the table if you want it.” You whispered before walking towards the bedroom.
You could hear him calling after you but you simply ignored it slamming the door behind you. Slowly you sank to the ground, your body shaking slightly as sobs began to fall from your lips. 
You’d stopped feeling loved a long time ago. At first, you’d believed that the feeling was simply in your head that you were just having doubts about your relationship due to how new it was, yet those doubts never seemed to go away. 
And Anakin did nothing to quell those doubts. Taking a breath you placed your chin on your knees, staring at the bed. You never imagined the man who you were supposed to love unconditionally and who was supposed to love you back could leave you feeling so unseen in your own relationship.
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phoward89 · 6 months
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Based on this ask
Warning ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, child gets hurt (nothing major), unruly mobs, poison, hanging tree
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“Daddy!” Cassian Xanthos excitedly exclaimed, running over to Coriolanus as you followed behind him, your belly just starting to swell with your second child so you're still able to keep up with your little blonde rugrat.
“Did Mommy bring you here to help me run the country, Cass?” Your husband asked your son, who was his spitting image at 4 years old. The little boy had the same light platinum blonde curls, the same baby blue eyes, the same prominent nose, long legs, and toothy grin.
A grin that was missing something.
“I finally lost my tooth!” Cassian proudly announced, climbing up onto your husband's lap as he sat at his desk in his presidential office.
“Yeah? Let me see it.” Coriolanus beamed, giving your son a proud smile.
You couldn't help, but to melt at the interaction you were watching unfold before your very eyes. Coriolanus, despite being a cold, callous, stern, calculated, iron-fisted leader, was a very loving husband and father. Around you and your son, he was a different man. A man that let his guard down, let himself have emotions.
Coriolanus presented himself to the public as a hard man and rarely talked about his family. The only ones that knew how much his family meant to him was the presidential mansion staff. And they knew better than to cross their boss. The staff knew that if they wanted to keep breathing and assure that their families didn't wind up banished to the districts that it's best to ignore how soft the cold hearted President Snow was with his family.
“Cass, put your tooth under your pillow tonight and the tooth fairy will collect your tooth; give you a reward.” Your husband told your son, making the little boy smile and giggle in excitement.
Coriolanus made sure to incorporate all of those little traditions he grew up with. The ones Grandma’am had shared with him when he was a little orphan boy, growing up alone and afraid during a war.
“Last time I lost a tooth, the tooth fairy gived me a gold coin.” Cassian. Xandros chirped.
Coriolanus cringed at hearing his son's improper grammar. Looking down at his boy, your husband corrected him with, “It's the tooth fairy gave me a gold coin, not gived.”
“Okay.” Cassian simply smiled.
Looking away from the little boy in his lap and over to you, Coriolanus asked, “Have the maids finished packing our bags for our trip to 12?”
Your husband, being the President, had to take trips to the districts to deal with things. It was mostly meetings with PK commanders and mayors, sometimes a few other things such as productivity at a factory or a mine. But he never went into full details with you about it. You usually just had to deal with him bitching about the incompetent people he had to meet with.
You also got stuck attending dinners with the PK commanders, mayors, and their families. Coryo always brought his family along on his business trips for that very reason. So that his family could smooze with the family of whoever he was stuck meeting with. Your husband was all about networking.
“Yes.” You nodded, leaning against the edge of his desk and resting your hand on your barely there baby bump. “Paloma, placed the bags in the foyer of the living quarters; I think the chauffeur's loading them into the car soon.
“As soon as I'm done with my paperwork we'll head out.” Coriolanus informed you, picking up his pen and resuming his paperwork while letting his son sit on his lap.
“Okay, but why do we have to go to 12? We both hate it there, can't you just send one of your staff to handle whatever mine dispute is going on?”
“Darling, I can't send an assistant. I need to handle this myself because, apparently, the last time I sent an assistant nothing got done.”
“Daddy, why you and Mommy hate 12?” Your son innocently asked your husband.
You narrowed your eyes at Coryo, silently warning him that the story of you two’s past in 12 wasn't fitting for the ears of a 4 year old little boy.
Yea… Telling your son that Coriolanus and you met each other when he was a Peacekeeper (and that he was supposed to be Lucy Gray’s beau), that he paid for an apartment you shared (he was supposed to live in the barracks, but he always seemed to sneak in and out before wakeup call), and brought you back to the Capitol with him wasn't a good idea. He was too young; wouldn't understand.
Hell, you're hoping that Cassian never learns the truth about how you and Coryo got together. It's just too complicated. Maybe even somewhat embarrassing in a way.
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Your husband gave your son his old puppy plushie from his childhood. It was a plushie that your son slept with. He had to take it with him during trips, or else he'd be up all night crying without it. Cassian Xandros couldn't sleep without his plushie, Puppers.
And Puppers couldn't be packed in the suitcase. No, your son has to carry that plushie with him when going somewhere. Sticking it in the luggage gives him panic attacks.
And dealing with a 4 year old having a panic attack’s no easy feat. Especially when that child's the carbon copy of Coriolanus Snow. Oh boy…the panic attacks that Cassian would have over thinking his Puppers was lost were on a whole different level.
Like the end of the world, the 2nd apocalypse, and WW4 type of level. The little boy was unconsolable while having one. You would always hold your son and assure him that everything was fine. You'd whisper reassuring words to him and comfort him while your husband would find the puppy plushie and shove it into your son's hands.
Safe to say, it was easier to just let Cassian carry Puppers the puppy plushie onto the train with him then to pack it up.
“Daddy, did you bring Puppers on trips when you was little?” Cassian Xandros asked his father while sitting on his lap, looking out the window of the Presidential train car your family had just boarded half an hour earlier.
“It's when you were little, Cass.” Coriolanus corrected your son’s grammar, like he always did.
You just smiled from your spot on the sofa, eating some fruit while watching your favorite boys. They're two peas in a pod. You know that Cassian Xandros is most likely going to follow in his father's political footsteps when he's older. You can see it already.
“No.” Coryo shook his head. A faraway look appeared in your husband's icy blue eyes as he looked out the window over your son's head of platinum curls. Looking down at the little boy in his lap, a thin line of a smile appeared on his face as he explained, “I didn't go on trips as a little boy because things were scary back then. Panem wasn't safe like it is now.”
Looking at his dad, who was his hero, Cassian asked, “And you make it safe, right daddy? Cause you's President?”
“Yes, your daddy makes the country very safe because he's the president.” You answered Cassian before Coriolanus had the chance to correct his grammar.
And it's true, your husband had put many laws, rules, and regulations in effect when it came to the law and order of the country; to keep Panem safe. To keep the country running smoothly. Your husband had seen many horrors in his short life, more than you and that's something considering that you grew up in the districts. Your husband had an obsessive need for control and order; it showed in his political policies.
You never got into it. As First Lady your job was to just smile, go to charity events, host tea parties, etc. Oh, you also collected gossip for your husband, that he used to make decisions about who he should and shouldn't eliminate. But, as First Lady, your role wasn't as a ruler- that was your husband's job. Coriolanus was the President, he oversaw the country and you’re just his sidekick.
“You're mommy’s right.” Coryo smiled, only to ruffle his son's light blonde curls and correct his grammar, once again, with, “And it's because you're President, not cause you’s President, Cass.”
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The trip from Capitol City, Panem to District 12, Panem was a very long and boring journey. Traveling from the Rockies to Appalachia was always a soul sucking experience. You and your husband avoid traveling to District 12 like the plague, but unfortunately it couldn't be avoided. It seems that the route was long and full of nothing to look at, but a few old crumbling ruins of ancient Pre-Panem cities.
Cassian Xandros, being a little boy, was excited when the train passed by the remnants of the ancient places. “Mommy, Daddy, what District that?”
Never looking up from his reports, Coriolanus told your son, “It's not a district son, it's the ancient city of Pittsburgh.”
“What happened?” The little boy, who inherited both his father's looks and thirst for knowledge, asked.
“Don't worry about it, buddy. You'll learn about it when you're older in school.”
“But daddy-” Cassian Xandros began, only for the president to sternly cut him off with, “I told you not to worry about it, Cassian.”
Seeing the dejected look on your son's face paired with his low lip quivering made you decide that your husband needed a talking to. That you're going to straighten him out. So, giving your son a soft smile, you suggested in a sweet and motherly tone, “Why don't you go to the dining car and ask an Avox for some ice cream? Hmm?”
‘Okay, mommy.” Cassian nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips, before taking off to go get his ice cream. A treat that you knew would make him feel better; would also get him out of the suite long enough for you to tell off your husband.
As soon as the door to the train car closed, you gave your husband a disgruntled look and told him, ‘Coriolanus, I understand that you're tense because we're almost at 12, but that doesn't give you the right to snap at Cassian. He's just curious about why there's ancient ruins outside of the Districts along the train tracks.”
“I need to prepare for my upcoming meetings, darling. I don't have time to conduct history lessons with a 4 year old right now.” Coryo said dismissively, as if everything you just told him wasn't important. As if his goddamn paperwork was more important.
Well it wasn't and you're going to let him know that.
“You're not the only one that's on edge about this visit to 12, Coryo.” Your said, causing your husband to look at you. Shaking your head, you admitted, “I haven't seen my brother Rein since he disowned me; called me a sellout and a whore when I became your girl. Going back there, not knowing how my family's going to react seeing me as your pregnant First Lady; the mother of your son, terrifies me.”
And your estranged family's opinion of you, after all of these years, did have you worried. You didn't part with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, on the best of terms. They made you choose between them and a Capitol born and bred peacekeeper, Private Snow. You, in the end, picked Coryo. The man that took care of you while you lived in 12, who took you with him when he got discharged and sent back to the Capitol. The man who married you despite the way his Grandma’am turned her nose down at you.
The last time you saw your brother it was when you were on stage with your husband while he was giving a speech during a presidential campaign tour. Although district citizens can't vote, Capitol citizens and those serving the Capitol in the Peacekeepers can. So, Coryo decided to do a district tour to boost morale and votes of the Peacekeepers. He even made sure to use his background as one along with the fact that his father was General Crassus Snow during the election too.
But that was around the time you discovered you were pregnant, so…
“But I'm not taking it out on Cass; I won't sit back and watch you do that, Coryo.” You told your husband, needing him to know that your son couldn't be an emotional punching bag.
Setting his paperwork aside, Coryo stood up and sighed, “You're brother, Rein, and that ratty whore of his are idiots.” Going over to the sofa and taking a seat next to you, your husband snaked an arm around you, bringing you to lean your head against his chest. “I'm sorry that being with me caused such a rift between you and your family; you should've told me you've been feeling apprehensive about this trip.”
“Coryo, you know that I get over emotional from pregnancy hormones. I didn't want to bother you with my feelings about this trip.” You told Coriolanus, feeling like you're ready to burst into tears at any second.
At that very moment, your son walked back into the train car with an ice cream cone in his hand. Seeing you so sad and his daddy trying to make you feel better, Cassian Xandros went over to Coriolanus, only to hold his ice cream out and say, “Daddy, mommy’s sad. Give her my ice cream; then she'll be happy.”
“No, you eat it, sweetie.” You told your son while holding your husband's hand; preventing him from taking the ice cream.
You knew that Coryo would take the ice cream under the guise of giving it to you, but would eat it himself once you turned the treat down. Your husband has an odd relationship with free food…
“Do you want Puppers instead? He always makes me feel better.” Cassian asked, licking his chocolate ice cream cone that had every single once covered by chocolate sprinkles. That was definitely something your son got from his Snow genes. The love of chocolate.
“Oh, I'm fine, Cassian. Your baby sister's just making me a little dramatic.”
“But I thought Auntie Tigris said that daddy the drama queen in the family.”
“Looks like visits with Auntie Tigris are coming to an end.” Coriolanus coldly muttered under his breath.
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“President Snow, Sir, we’ve arrived.” A Peacekeeper announced, walking into the presidential train car once the train has stopped.
“Thank you.” Your husband nodded, only to stand up and look towards you and your son. “It's time to go meet the mayor.”
“Is it still Mayor Lipp?” You wondered, standing up with your son and going over to Coriolanus.
You haven't set foot in 12 since Coriolanus did a presidential campaign tour years ago, before you had Cassian, so you had no idea what was going on politically in the district. Honestly, you didn't care either. But, you did need to know who the mayor was since that's who was housing your family for your visit.
“Yes, that wretched fool’s still the mayor.”
“Mister President, Sir.” The Peacekeeper acknowledged your husband, only to turn to you and say, “First Lady, Ma’am.”, before stating, “A Peacekeeper, says his name's Smiley, is here to escort you to the barracks.”
A puzzled look appeared on your face. “The barracks? But we're staying with the mayor.”
“According to this Smiley, Ma’am, the Commander here in 12 has made new arrangements for the Presidential family.”
“Smiley’ll tell us what's going on, darling. Don't worry, we'll be fine.” Coriolanus assured you, since he didn't want you to get yourself in a tizzy while in your delicate condition. He was always so protective of you when you're carrying his child.
But there was a need to worry. Unknown to Coriolanus and you, the miners were striking and protesting. And not just a few of them, but all of them. Apparently they were tired of working long hours underground in dangerous circumstances without being properly compensated.
The protests started at the mines, but by the time your train arrived at the depot, the station was swarming with District 12 miners demanding to be treated like human beings instead of slave labor. Peacekeepers were lined up, keeping them at bay with rifles drawn and threats to shoot. It was so bad that the Commander was afraid for the safety of Coriolanus and his family. Honestly, none of you should be there, but it was too late to cancel the meeting between the President, the mining bosses, the mayor, and the Commander of District 12.
So, the Commander sent Smiley to greet President Coriolanus Snow and to inform him of what's going on. To act as a makeshift bodyguard because the two men are friends.
Well, your husband only used his old bunkmate as a contact to keep tabs on District 12, but friend sounded much better.
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“Coryo…” You trailed off, looking up at your husband. You were tucked into his side as he had an arm protectively wrapped around you, hand on your round belly. His other arm was holding your son against his chest in a vice tighter than that of a boa constrictor.
Cassian Xandros had his head buried in his father's chest, clutching tightly to his puppy plushie. The loud noise of the crowd of miners and protesters was clearly frightening him. To be honest, it frightened you too.
These people crowding around you were out for blood. You could sense that if the Peacekeepers weren't keeping them at bay, then the crowd would rush you and your family; tear you apart limb by limb- because they're angry at how they're living compared to how your family's living.
“We'll be at the van soon; then we'll go to the base and won't have to deal with the protestors anymore.” Coryo assured you, keeping a stern look on his face as he led the way towards the van as angry miners and their families shouted profanities. Smiley was up ahead, clearing the way, while the personal guards (peacekeepers) that came on the trip from the Presidential Palace flanked you.
It felt so unsettling, this short walk from the depot to the van that'll take your family to the base. To safety.
It should've been easy to get to the van, considering all the presence of the peacekeepers, but it wasn't. Because nothing in your life, in Coriolanus' life, can be easy.
No….
Because right before you reached the Peacekeepers’ van, the unthinkable happened.
“Should’ve stayed in the Capitol, sellout whore!” You heard your older brother's voice yell before feeling spit land on your cheek.
President Coriolanus Snow should've keep walking, guiding his family thru the crowd to the nearby van, but hearing his brother-in-law call his First Lady a sellout whore made him see red. Made him furious.
Motioning to one of the presidential Peacekeeper guards, Coriolanus ordered, “Arrest that man for assaulting my wife, First Lady Y/N Snow.”
The peacekeeper nodded, only to grab your brother (who put up a good struggle) and cuff him. Your brother was cussing up a storm while the crowd was screaming to let him go, that Rein didn't do anything. The protesters screamed that Rein was innocent; was being falsely arrested by the cruel, dictator President Snow.
But you know what Rein did to cause his arrest. He insulted you and spit in your face. In Coryo's eyes was that assault; something unforgivable.
But the crowd of miners and protesters (some of which were rebels and their sympathizers) didn't see it that way. All they saw was an ‘innocent’ man being carted away.
You don't know how it started, but suddenly people broke thru the lines and tried to swarm you, your husband, and your son. Smiley and your Capitol Peacekeeper guards were beating back the crowd so that your husband could whisk his family to the Peacekeepers van.
And you would've made it to the van unscathed to, if it wasn't for the moltov cocktail that somebody threw at your husband as he ushered you towards the van.
You heard the crash of the bottle and smelted the chemicals before your son's cries of pain sounded out. Turning around, as one of the Peacekeepers by the van shoved you into it, you saw flames licking at your son's back and at your husband's arm. A piece of glass from the broken moltov bottle was embedded in your husband's jaw as blood flowed freely from it.
A pair of Peacekeepers rushed over to your husband, patting the flames out of both his arm and your son's back.
“Daddy, it hurts.” Your son cried, referring to his boiled flesh.
‘Radio the hospital on base, I want the best treatment for my son.” President Snow ordered the peacekeeper that was pushing him towards the van, where you were sitting anxiously.
“Mister President, Sir, we'll get him to the hospital on base right away.” The peacekeeper assured your husband as he joined you in the van.
Coriolanus just nodded at the peacekeeper, causing the man to hop into the back of the van. You and Coriolanus tried your best to soothe your son as the peacekeeper sitting next to your husband barked for the driver to get to base; to radio the on base hospital to let them know that President Snow's son is suffering a burn on his back from the mob’s attack.
Of course, the peacekeeper driving to the base did as he was told. So, when your family arrived at PK Base D12 a stretcher with a medic and a doctor was waiting for your son.
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Coryo was holding Cassian’s puppy plushie so hard, you thought the thing’s head was going to pop off and the stuffing would fly out, as the two of you were escorted into your son's hospital room by his attending nurse. His burns weren't bad enough for surgery, but they were bad enough that they needed cleaned, treated with ointment, and bandaged. The nurse explained that Cassian Xandros was asleep due to a dose of morphling he was given for the pain.
Despite him being asleep and on pain meds, you and Coryo just had to see him. Had to sit with him. Your baby boy was hurt, you both needed to be by his side.
Coriolanus might've been a lot of things, but he was a very loving and devoted husband; father. Seeing his son hurt because people didn't like him made him furious. He didn't care if somebody went after him, but going after his family was an entirely different thing.
And those District dogs that wanted prime rib instead of the scraps they got for mining coal all damn day are going to pay. They were going to pay dearly for hurting his son.
Because nobody hurts what's his and gets away with it.
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Coriolanus canceled his meetings concerning the mine production, only to have the mine bosses rounded up in the middle of the night and thrown into jail. The reason? Well, they allowed their workers to turn into a violent mob; they didn't keep them in line. 
The President ordered the mine bosses to be executed at the hanging tree for being an accessory to the crimes of their mining employees.
Talk about executions…
President Snow had 100 miners rounded up and sent to the gallows as punishment for what happened to your son. It didn't matter that those people weren't the ones that threw the moltov cocktail. They were disgruntled district 12 citizens. They protested and pushed back; causing a rebellion. 
They're rebels.
Rebels! 
So they had to hang to serve as an example; a lesson on what happens when one goes against the Capitol. Dares to bite the hand that feeds it.
And your older brother, Rein. 
Well…
Your husband's currently having a meeting with him in his jail cell. 
“Heard you hung 100 innocent people.” Rein told Coriolanus as the imposing platinum blonde devil took set a thermos down on the table your brother was chained too.
“Those scum were not innocent. Their little rebellious outburst hurt my son and scared my pregnant wife.” Coriolanus told his brother-in-law, who he hasn't seen in a good 5 years, while taking a seat across from him. “I don't play around when it comes to the safety of my family, Mr. Halvir.” The president told the dark haired man, who had broad shoulders due to years of work in the coal mines, while reaching for the thermos. 
Rein narrowed his Seam grey eyes at President Snow. A man he hates for turning you against your kind, against the district that you were born and raised in. Oh, how your brother hates your husband for being your keeper, for turning you into a Capitol puppet.
Unscrewing the thermos’ lid, Coriolanus made the condescending remark of, “You should know that first hand, considering how I moved Y/N out of your shithole hovel in the Seam once she became mine.” 
“You made her choose between you and us when she was too young to even understand the damning consequences of that choice. I hope your kid brings home somebody you hate; somebody that drives a wedge in your perfectly fucked up Presidential First Family.”  Rein snarled at Coriolanus while the platinum blonde man poured some of the hot tea from the thermos into a plastic cup- that also served as a topper for the thermos.
“Mmm…” Your husband hummed, tasting the tea. “Still hot.” He remarked, setting the tea down in front of your older brother. Gesturing to the plastic cup, Coriolanus simply said, “For you.”
Rein looked between the cup and Coriolanus, only to nod and take it. His chains were long enough to make it possible for him to pick up the cup and bring it to his lips, but short enough to ensure that he couldn't lunge across the table to do the president any harm.
“How's your boy?” Rein asked, sipping on the tea. 
“Why do you care? He's just the product of a Capitol snake and a sellout whore, isn't he?” Coriolanus seethed, hate dripping from every word like venom. Leaning forward, eyes watching the miner intently as he sipped on the tea, he asked, “Do you have any little bastards running around?”
“No.” Rein shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “Me and Ashlie decided not to have kids. That it's not worth it, with the risk of reapings and all.”
Coriolanus’ lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Then the Halvir name dies with you.”
Rein's Seam grey eyes flashed with confusion, only for realization to shine in them as he began to feel his throat close up. Clawing at his neck, in a desperate, but useless attempt for air, your brother realized that your husband had poisoned him. He began to feel his blood boil on his body, feel it bubble up from his stomach and travel up his throat. Shaking, he used the last bit of his strength to muster out the word, “Why?”
Coriolanus pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, only to use it to stifle a small, bloody cough. A small side effect of drinking poison, but at least he had taken the antidote prior. He smiled wickedly, a thin layer of crimson staining his teeth, as he told Rein, “Your little stunt caused that crowd to attack me; to hurt my son. Anyone that hurts my family will pay with their lives.” 
Watching the light dim in your brother's eyes as blood pooled uncontrollably from his mouth and nose, your husband leaned over him and whispered, “Snow lands on top.”
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