#and the other thing is i never know how much anything costs and that Stresses me Out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

louebel · 6 months

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Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢��𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub...

"... phew ..."

scrub... poof!

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..."

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious.

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it.

If only you weren't sick.

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn."

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you.

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary.

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off.

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed.

Or not.

"Ow, ow..."

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid.

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why.

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you?

Those sweet memories...

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you.

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..."

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously...

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood.

Now? If he saw one inch of your form?

Sigh. His face always went red.

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer?

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting.

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought.

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy.

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough...

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it.

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it.

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you.

Ugh...

You wished it could all go back to normal.

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe.

"... Okay, I'm done."

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to.

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later.

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in.

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and —

knock knock.

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm.

You waited.

... knock knock.

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work.

Okay.

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now.

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light.

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them...

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight.

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him.

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes.

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.)

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone.

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself..

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you.

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?—

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?"

"Huh?"

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all.

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention.

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you.

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly.

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry."

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape.

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now.

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it.

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"..."

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage.

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and—

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three.

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis.

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name.

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed.

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy.

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next.

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything.

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—"

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?"

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream.

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it.

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long.

"You're cold... Off."

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued.

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager.

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep.

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him.

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions.

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him.

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think.

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary.

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?"

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly.

"Law …'m sorry if I smell."

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point.

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh."

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form.

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful."

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines.

"U- uuh... W- where..?"

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here."

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water.

The second tasted awful.

"E—eugh..."

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good."

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot...

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases.

“Do you feel better now..?”

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you.

Your question puzzled him.

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side.

"What?"

“I … I missed you."

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest.

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...”

Shit.

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...”

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability.

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..?

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…”

"Aargh..."

Warm.

"Mmh..."

It was very warm. Pleasant.

"Hn..."

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm.

The pillow was so nice, though...

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament.

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours.

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch.

He looked peaceful.

"... Law?"

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you.

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening."

You were mad at him. You were mad at him.

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention.

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit.

"I'm in my pajamas?"

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it."

"..."

Pause number two.

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant."

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening.

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed.

"You inhaled it, didn't you?"

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all."

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks.

"Y—Yeah."

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed."

"O—oh... That bad?"

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.”

“Hey—”

“You're fine."

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well.

"Well?"

"... You ignored me. You made it clear."

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out.

"I—I didn't."

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—"

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress.

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you."

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance.

You just... didn't know.

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not!"

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours.

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours.

If he explained, it would've been easier.

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—"

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest."

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not.

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—"

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss."

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep.

"I... You did nothing that bothers me."

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part.

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding.

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach.

He couldn't be serious.

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

"What?"

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth.

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose.

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry.

"Hey... I—"

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!"

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you.

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him.

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..."

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious.

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't.

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him.

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight.

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings.

"... You what, Law?"

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed.

His hands craved yours.

"I like—I like you!"

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed.

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you."

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—"

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances.

"... Law."

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—"

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about...

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self.

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize.

"Law."

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—"

Your heartbeats matched.

"Law!"

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him.

"It's... the same."

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises.

"Huh? Wh — what?"

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too."

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were.

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer.

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone.

All is back to normal.

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder.

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer...

Closer...

"Closer?"

"Alright."

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short.

How you missed holding it.

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face.

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change.

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait.

He felt lighter.

“… Truly?”

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.”

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit.

His eyes glistened.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return.

He can take all the time he needs.

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them.

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning.

"Tired?"

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it.

"Mm, there were a lot of them."

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks."

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it."

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?"

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it.

"... Meet me at my office once you're done."

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

#law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x you

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accio-victuuri · 12 days

Text

i was supposedly gonna address this by end of month and with my april candy round up but i think might as well do it now. only because it is being shared primarily on international platforms and i feel the need to put out this reminder. i wouldn’t even dream about controlling how one chooses to participate in this fandom but sometimes people need a wake up call.

so, there has been a video going around of GG filming Legend of Zanghai and there is a staff there that people are saying is WYB. it showed this person talking to GG while he is on standby and shooting etc. first of all, these two are notoriously good at hiding and being professional in their workplace. especially now. i doubt they will flaunt each other on set with one acting like a PA for the other. not only that, they both hate to cause any disturbance on set or have unnecessary eyes on them — much worse, gossip, so this is a no.

and in the very low chance that it is WYB or that whatever rumor we have of XX visiting XXX on set is true, the last person who should be outing their secret meetings shouldn’t be turtles. if there is one thing i really miss from the beginnings of this fandom is how much people protected them. even if at times we became obnoxious, you know that the reason is because we wanted to keep them safe. nowadays, i feel like more turtles don’t even care at all. they will show off anything to prove a point. but at what cost? seriously, how far would you go? how much disregard for their rights as human beings will you allow?

which leads me to the main problem here: sharing leaks. i personally sometimes can’t avoid it, especially on weibo cause it depends on who you follow, it will come up. or worse, the leaked videos/photos goes on hot search. xz has been very vocal against proxy shooting for this project so idk why some turtles continue to disrespect his wishes. it’s one thing to see it accidentally, but for international fans to share it and then make it out to be this “scandalous” video proof is so questionable. what makes them different from professional weibo paparazzis who out celebrity couples? who follow them in their homes and even their parents? how are they different from ss who put trackers on their cars and obsess over their personal itinerary? it’s so sus to call yourself a fan who care about them but applaud this kind of behavior. these kind of fans honestly don’t see xz and wyb as people. leave them the fuck alone. i don’t think i can stress that enough. let’s speculate all we want from the materials they willingly give us and try not to make it harder for them to live their personal lives.

i understand how material like that can make someone happy and affirmed but think about them first.

and if you are someone who needs solid video proof to support the boys and be on the bjyxszd train, then please leave this fandom now. i can tolerate alot of behaviors but never ones that endanger them like this. this need for constant validation is dangerous. it’s their relationship, not ours. they are real people and not fictional characters.

#yizhan #bjyx

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foxy-eva · 9 months

Note

I was wondering if you had any spencer Reid fics with reader who doesn’t work for the BAU

Thank you

Yes of course! Most of my fics are non-BAU!Reader or don't specify their job. Here's a little selection for you.

Heart Language: Spencer has a crush on his doctor (and the feeling is mutual)

Cowboy Like Me: Spencer fulfills his wife’s childhood dream

Safekeeping: Spencer is there to protect Reader when a situation gets out of hand.

Pretty Boy: Seeing how Spencer would do anything to make their daughter smile never fails to warm his wife’s heart

Reflections: The kindness Spencer Reid shows to a child seems to impress Reader a little too much

Summer Nights: Summer may come to an end but the kisses Spencer Reid shares with Reader will not

Side by Side: Spencer Reid is mesmerized by Reader on their first date and is surprised that she apparently feels the same way about him

Sleepy Golden Storm: Reader and Spencer Reid enjoy some morning cuddles

Forever Has A Nice Ring To It: When Spencer Reid finally finds the courage to express his love for Reader, both of them realize that forever has a nice ring to it

The Only Hoax I Believe In: Spencer Reid struggles with his addiction after prison until Reader is determined to help him, no matter the cost

NSFW under the cut, minors DNI!

26 Things (series): 4-part series about Spencer Reid helping Reader check off everything on her bucket list - even the explicit things

In Full Bloom: A random interaction between Spencer Reid and Reader leads to weeks of longing and yearning until they decide they have spent enough time being strangers

Second Time’s a Charm: Back in college Spencer Reid and Reader left many things unsaid. Years later they give it another try.

Slippery Slope: Spencer slips in the shower, his roommate comes to the rescue

Novelty: Spencer guides Reader through a night full of firsts

Call Me: Spencer discovers new ways to feel close to his girlfriend while working on a case

Sunday Morning: Spencer really enjoys Sunday mornings with his girlfriend

Daring & Decent: After getting teased about his girlfriend’s profession, Spencer feels insecure and needs her to show him that he is everything she needs

Movie Night: Spencer didn’t know that having a movie night was a synonym for having a make-out session with Reader but he sure didn’t mind

Summer in the City: Having a roommate who decided it was too hot to wear clothes suddenly made the heatwave much more tolerable for Spencer

Ever Expanding: Spencer and his wife decide it’s time to expand their family

Closer: When Spencer Reid comes home after being gone for too long he and Reader can’t wait to feel each other as close as possible

Washed Away: Spencer Reid knows exactly how to help Reader unwind after a stressful day

Duet: Letting the love of his life get away was Spencer’s biggest regret, so he decides to go after her

Find my general MASTERLIST here

Still looking for more? Check out @imagining-in-the-margins Collection for non-BAU!Reader fics!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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cozage · 1 year

Note

Thinking about what if Trafalgar Law had an s/o that is secretly rich. Like...

They don't flaunt it but they aren't exactly hiding it either. How would law react?

Would he be neutral? Would he be confused...? Like...? What?

Characters: GN! reader x Law

Cw: some fighting/arguments, cute fluff other than that :)

Total word count: 700

Quite literally nothing goes unnoticed with Law, so I imagine he figures out you’ve got money pretty quickly. However, he’s not sure how much you have or how you’re getting it, and he won’t confront you until something big happens.

It starts out with little things. On port days you always come back with an extra special dessert or something fancy to share with the whole crew. Law can calculate how much it costs to buy something that nice for a crew of 20 people. He doesn’t think anything of it at first, but after the third time at port, he’s suspicious of your finances. But again, he’s not asking.

A crew mate mentions that they want something they see while they’re on an island but don’t have enough berries. Every now and then when you hear someone talk about something they really want, you’ll buy it for them and place it on their bed while they’re out.

You never say anything about it or let them know it was you who bought it, but every time someone shows up to dinner showing off something they wanted, Law notices how your eyes are full of joy, while everyone else’s are full of amazement and shock. The crew thinks it’s their captain who’s giving the gifts, and he thoroughly denies it, but he never throws you under the bus.

And then the ship needs a repair. A BIG one. And you’re stuck at port until you can get it fixed. Law gets the estimate for repair at 100,000 berries. You can see he’s stressed about it, trying to figure out where to cut corners to afford such a big (but necessary) repair. His stress is bleeding into all other aspects of his life, including your relationship.

So you walk into his office one day, and just set the money gently on the table, and walk away. He’s staring at the money, shocked that you could have so much on hand.

“Y/N-ya?” he calls to you before you exit the room. “Where on earth did you get this?”

“It’s better not to ask questions,” you smirk back at him and leave. You’d rather not tell him that you were rich, it’s not like it really mattered anyway.

Later, when the two of you are alone in his room, he brings it back up again. “Seriously, though” he purrs to you, kissing the crook of your neck in between words. “Where are you getting all this money?”

You laugh and push him away gently, teasing him. “What, you think I’m a secret Marine spy or something?”

His eyebrow raised in suspicion, playing along with your joke. “Wouldn't be unheard of, you know.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, finally giving in. “It’s just some money I had from my past life, Captain. Nothing more to it.”

That’s enough of an answer for him. Law isn’t one to pry, and he trusts you completely.

He continues to let you do small gestures for your crewmates anonymously. Your secret is safe with him.

But he doesn’t let you pay for ship problems or other things he should have to deal with as a captain in the future. Sometimes it can spark arguments between the two of you. He’s so damn independent and prideful, and you just want to help ease his burdens when you can. You two usually find a compromise, but sometimes the argument can last a few days until one of you gives in to the other.

Sometimes he caves first, sometimes you do. It not a super common occurrence, and after your alls spat about money is over, it’s completely forgotten. Law doesn’t want to take advantage of you, even though he knows you don’t see it like that. Because of that, you rarely buy things for him. He’s more of an “Acts of Service'' and “Quality Time” kind of guy anyway.

He likes to pamper you with gifts though. Little treats from a bakery, small pieces of jewelry you pass by and comment on. In the back of his mind, he knows you can afford it, but he still likes to show his love through little gifts anyway. And you like receiving the gifts too. They’re way more special coming from him.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

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badass-queer-couples-battle · 7 months

Text

Propaganda:

For Orufrey: "They're tragic wlw who have devoted their lives to each other since they were kids. They live together, they cook together, they're raising four girls together and they're doing the best they can. Olruggio would do anything for Qifrey if Qifrey would just Let Him 😭 but Qifrey is dead-set on protecting Olruggio and keeping him safe and in the dark no matter what it costs... i cant 😭..."

"Man I don't know they just have the vibes. They have toxic yuri energy but they are two grown men. They've known each other since their apprentice days and have stuck together ever since. Qifrey's main magic type was something he took up because Olruggio proposed that he learned to control the water he feared. They live together away from most of society with Qifrey's four apprentices, living the sapphic cottagecore (ateliercore???) dream. Qifrey, due to the fact that his eyesight is very much failing, something which is very problematic when it comes to witches, who need their eyesight more than most, is getting very desperate to get all he lost to the Brimhats, the witches who took one of his eyes and his memories, and Olruggio ends up noticing this pursuit and is implied to have done this more than once. Qifrey does not want Olruggio to know about both his failing eyesight and his goals, so he ends up completely wiping Olruggio's memory of those things, and laments that Olruggio is a kind person, and one who would most likely forgive him again, but also one who would try to save him, even when he didn't want to be saved. He also apologized right up until the moment Olruggio's memories of his secret were gone. In general I think chapter 40 is the somewhat toxic guy yuri chapter ever. I'm very tired so I do not know how to explain any of this, I just thought "wow Orufrey reminds me of this one poll I saw on Tumblr" and then spent three days straight hunting for your blog before completely forgetting my reasoning for Orufrey being yuri right before I submitted this."

For Joongdok: "Well first of all Yoo Joonghyuk has a whole arc that is transfem coded as hell (has a power/technique that can technically only be used by women but somehow he can also use it, for a time he even turns into a woman to wield it and it's. Actually just let me get the quote "The ines of the face had changed but it was clearly Yoo Joonghyuk. No, it was even more than before.") that just kinda happens,, and doesn't get brought up again but anyway. Second of all just look at them. You see the vision. Also a bonus observation is that these two often get shipped in a poly ship with Han Sooyoung and whenever I see people make a "regular couple, yaoi couple, yuri couple, I see no difference love is love" meme with them the combination of which pair among these three is which of the categories is always different"

Note: This submission also mentions Han Sooyoung, but I decided to count this polyship submission as guy yuri as well.

"They love each other, they pretend they don't care for each other but all their actions prove they care too much, if you remove someone from the trio then the resulting duo is extremely dysfunctional, as evidenced by more than a million words of canon. Is it technically guy yuri? Well, Han Sooyoung is a woman, but in a way she's one of the guys. Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk are men, but the text heavily hints that Yoo Joonghyuk is a trans woman who's just too busy and stressed out to transition yet, and Kim Dokja has just never thought about his own gender a single day in his life. They made the world for each other, they went back in time countless times and waged countless wars for each other, they wrote and read and lived a story, their story, for each other and that's what saved them all. The way Han Sooyoung writes Yoo Joonghyuk's story to save Kim Dokja and loses herself in the process, the way Yoo Joonghyuk voluntarily lives the story to the point of losing himself too and even forgetting why he originally decided to do it, the way Kim Dokja read Han Sooyoung's story which was Yoo Joonghyuk's life and that's how he found himself, they all took so much from each other and gave so much of themselves to each other, this is all very yuri."

"they're so yuri you have no idea. they have every staple of a yuri ship. unwavering devotion. waiting dozens or thousands of years for each other. dooming themselves and the world for each other. so much yearning. i also see them genderbent a lot (including inn canon in the case of yjh) and they're right both of these people are women. i genuinely can't even see them strictly as men at this point they're just yjh and kdj and they are yuri do you understand."

"they're so yuri. the abscense of yuri is the presence of yuri etc etc. these two guys are all ABOUT abscenses. also one of them is a part time woman. the other guy is a guy but like in the same way a square is a rectangle. anyway they're so guyyuri to me. bonus points also because they have a mutual girlfriend and when she's present they're girlyaoi but that's not relevant to this specifically"

#guy yuri round 2 #orufrey #joongdok #witch hat atelier #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #wha #olruggio #qifrey #yoo joonghyuk #kim dokja

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juyeonszn · 6 months

Text

I LOOK BETTER UNDER YOU

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.62k

GENRES smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, TW: LEWIS STRUCTURES/CHEMISTRY TERMS 🤢🤢🤢, academic rivals to something idk, kev and jichang appearances, chanhee is a cocky little shit, vaginal fingering, edging, exhibitionism lowkey, there’s not p in v action but they are in a public space so…. take with that what u will

SUMMARY aside from excelling at literally everything else, choi chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve.

MORE my brain hurts LOL anyway fawntober day???? 7 holy fuck that is actually insane… ANYWAY shout out reese for being my beta as always <3 and also shout out @sungbeam for the idea <3 laurv u bestie!!! pls reblog if u enjoyed :)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

You felt stupid. Never in your life had you ever struggled to learn a concept, usually understanding on the first go around. This was the case for a majority of your courses. However, for some reason you just couldn’t quite grasp Lewis Structures in your Chemistry class.

Everything else seemed simple enough, your professor explaining them in a way that made them sound easy. They were anything but. You found yourself stressing over whether or not you could fully comprehend the bonds between atoms in time for your midterm. With the way it was going for you, that hope appeared to get less and less realistic.

“Have you thought about going to tutoring?” Your friend, Kevin, asks as you sit across from each other in one of the library’s study rooms, your chemistry textbook opened up to the section on Lewis Structures.

“I mean, no, I haven’t. I just think they’d judge me, considering I have the second highest GPA in our department.” You huff, scribbling down even more notes on the concept, as if you didn’t already have everything you needed to know. God, being a woman in STEM was so hard.

“That’s your problem,” Kevin rolls his eyes, working on his communications homework simultaneously. “Your ego is too damn big. Maybe if you toned it down a notch and set aside your pride, you’d be able to grow the balls to actually ask for help.”

You’re offended, honestly. Because as much as he was right, he was simultaneously very wrong. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the courage to ask for assistance. It was the fact that your biggest rival was the person in charge of the science department’s tutoring lab. He had the highest GPA in your year and you couldn’t stand the thought of losing to him. Let alone showing your weak side.

Aside from excelling at literally everything else, Choi Chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve. You were thankful that he wasn’t in your Chemistry lecture, lest he made fun of you for all the questions you asked pertaining to your struggles. He had a knack for crawling under your skin like a goddamn parasite, doing everything in his power to make sure you never felt a moment of peace as long as he was around.

You hated him. You hated him so much for all of the unnecessary competition and constant need to one-up you in every mutual category possible. You hated his overall overachievement to be better than you, to be above you at all costs. You hated his dumb pretty face.

So how could you turn to tutoring after all of that? It just wasn’t feasible. Kevin wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have an arch nemesis holding him back from success.

“That’s not it at all, Kev. But it’s whatever, I’ll figure this shit out myself.”

You could not figure that shit out by yourself. Midterms were a week and a half away, and you were still ripping your hair out over which structures were more dominant and other things of that nature. This was absolutely humiliating. Perhaps growing up as a gifted kid was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

With a frown permanently etched on your face, you glance over at your tablemate’s notes. He had messily scrawled examples of those damn Lewis Structures covering the sheet, eyes flickering back and forth between his notebook and the projector at the front of the lecture hall. Oh how badly you wished to be in his shoes, to decipher everything and anything to do with the dot structures presented to you.

Ji Changmin was by no means a genius. His intelligence levels were above average, but that was still below you. How could he understand this better than you? It made no sense. Then again, he was close friends with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. That had to be the reason why. His friend was practically the Einstein reincarnate.

This meant that you couldn’t even express your difficulties with him either. Chanhee no doubtedly knew that you sat beside his friend. If you asked for his help, it would obviously circle back to him and you’d never hear the end of it. You’d never unhear the taunting voice of Choi Chanhee teasing you for asking Ji Changmin for assistance with fucking Lewis Structures. There really was no winning here.

As the lecture draws to a close and your professor reminds you to study for the fast approaching midterm, Changmin clears his throat beside you with a raised eyebrow. You look at him with thinly concealed surprise. So much for being subtle.

“I saw you looking at my notes,” he snorts. “You know, if you’re having a hard time with this chapter, you should just go to the tutoring lab. I’m assuming you haven’t because Chanhee hasn’t gloated about it yet. But if you were curious, he won’t be there today. He has to go to some meeting for the newspaper. You know that guy’s got like ten different clubs he’s a part of.”

You’re not sure why Ji Changmin would be on your side with this. In fact, it kind of makes you skeptical. You didn’t know how credible he was, so why would you trust this information? For all you knew, he could’ve been attempting to lure you right into a trap. However, despite the bit of laughter he exhibited, he didn’t appear to be lying. You were usually a pretty good judge of character.

That’s how you found yourself showing up to the tutoring lab later that evening.

It was located inside of the STEM building on the fourth floor, along with some of the offices belonging to several professors. You chose to go later at night with the knowledge that most students would be gone by that time. The lab was available for use until 9 PM on weekdays, and it was currently 8 PM.

Your grip on the strap of your bag tightens as you push open the see-through glass door of the lab, grateful for the evident emptiness. Though it also worries you, because there were no tutors around either. Maybe the slowness of a Thursday evening encouraged them to head home early. You decide to wait a few minutes anyway, just in case someone shows up.

That was, unfortunately, a very big mistake. As you’re pulling out your notes and textbook, you hear the low creak of the door opening. You think you might keel over and die when you’re suddenly face to face with The Choi Chanhee.

His lips curl up almost menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shut the fuck up,” your teeth grit together. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting or something? Why are you here?”

“Ended early,” he shrugs. “The tutors have a habit of leaving prematurely when I’m not around, so I wanted to see if there was anyone here. Guess it’s my lucky day, huh?”

This dude was a walking headache for real. You were seriously going to walk out of the lab with a migraine if he kept talking like he was so fucking smart. He was, but he didn’t need to know that you thought that. His own ego was large enough without you inflating it even more.

“I’m going home.” You state simply, mouth drawn in a straight line. You didn’t have the patience for his aggravating ass tonight.

“Am I really that horrible that you won’t accept my aid? I heard that you’ve been having problems with Lewis Structures. I may like to joke around, but I’m not really a masochist who likes to watch people suffer,” Chanhee chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re just so easy to rile up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But fine. If you’re actually gonna help me, I’ll let you just this once. I can’t afford to have this cost me a perfect midterm grade.”

He grins, something that looks conniving. You hate how much more attractive it makes him. You were thankful again for the fact that there were no other students present. It was embarrassing enough to be seen being civil with the worst person in the world.

Chanhee takes the seat beside you, turning it so he’s facing you. You keep your body squared to the table, flipping your textbook to the page on Lewis Structures and preparing a fresh sheet in your notebook. You feel your cheeks warm up with the attention on you, his arms still folded in front of him.

“S-So I don’t get the— um— I don’t— uh— I don’t understand the dominant— the dominant bonds,” your eyes squeeze shut, mortified by the amount of stuttering and fumbling over your words. “How do you— um— how do you determine them?”

He smiles at how cute you are, a shy side of you he’s never seen before. He was so used to you constantly arguing with him, used to you standing your ground and competing with him even when you knew he’d come out on top. He places an arm on the back of your chair, leaning in to read what was in your textbook although he didn’t need to. He just wanted an excuse to get closer to you.

“So you’re gonna want your formal charge to be as close to zero as possible. In order to calculate that, you’ll have to subtract the number of bonds divided by two and the number of electron pairs from the total number of valence electrons per individual atom,” Chanhee explains, pointing at the formula on the page. “How about I give you a couple examples to work on?”

You nod slowly, afraid your voice might betray you again. He jots down a few molecular examples on your notebook, pausing for a moment to nip at his lip and examine you. You blink, a little confused by the action.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight crack in your tone.

“I have an idea,” he licks his lips. “To make this more rewarding for us both.”

Your brows furrow, his response further perplexing you. One of his hands situates itself on your thigh, your eyes widening. Of all days to wear a skirt, why did you have to choose today? You glance between his face and his hand, lips parted.

“Ch-Chanhee?”

“Yes, pretty?”

You don’t know why the nickname has your upper and lower heartbeats skipping, sweat forming on your palms. You’d always been too preoccupied despising him for being so much better at everything than you were. But right now, his fingers creeping beneath the denim of your skirt, all of that seemed to fly out of the window. You gasp as his fingertips reach the lace of your panties.

“I can make you feel good,” he says into your ear, thumb massaging your thigh. “I can make this worth your while if you do well for me.”

He was giving you fucking whiplash. One second he was teasing you for coming to the tutoring lab, and the next he was trying to coax you into coming quite literally. You think you’re the insane one, however, because you can’t conjure a logical reason to say no.

“Okay,” you breathe, shakily picking up your mechanical pencil. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

You begin to work on the first molecule he wrote out, trying to ignore his slender fingers pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. Your bottom lip quivers when his lips make contact with your neck, kissing up and down softly with each circle of his phalanges on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Chanhee presses two fingers inside of your cunt, smiling against your skin when you whimper, nearly dropping your pencil. You fight back tears threatening to spill from your eyes due to lack of reaction, his digits so skilled at working your pussy and looping that knot in your abdomen. Your legs spread wider as you attempt to finish the first example as quickly as possible, so he can knock you over that edge that seems so close now.

“D-Done,” you shiver, lids almost fluttering shut from pure bliss.

Chanhee judges your answer, fingers halting their movements when he recognizes an error. You whine, that taste of sweet release pulled right from under you like a rug. He tsks, kissing your temple as if he hadn’t just denied you an orgasm.

“That’s not the dominant structure. Try again.” He instructs, not continuing until you’ve picked up the pencil and rewrote the Lewis Structure.

You ignore his palm applying pressure to your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your drooling cunt, lips sucking at the exposed base of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. Your focus zeroes in on completing this structure correctly, rearranging the electron bonds until they’re right. You feel your climax returning when he praises you for getting it this time.

“Such a smart girl,” he murmurs into your collarbone. “Now do the other one.”

He doesn’t stop his assault, increasing the pace of his fingers while you scribble out numbers and draw electron pairs. Your orgasm inches towards you, like a freight train going at full speed. Chanhee curls his middle finger, tripping you up and causing you to write down a wrong number on accident. Ever the perceptive, he relaxes his wrist and retracts his hand, the band in your stomach loosening along with it.

“Please, Chanhee,” you cry, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. “Need to cum so bad.”

“Mm-mm,” he scolds. “Not until you finish the structure properly. C’mon, I know you can be a good girl for me.”

You force yourself to persevere, bottom lip between your teeth when he slips his fingers back into your pussy. Pretending like you weren’t on the cusp of euphoria was making you dizzy, but it was necessary if you wanted to reach it completely. You couldn’t handle a third denial.

Chanhee speeds up his fingers, adding his thumb on your clit for extra stimulation. It was like he did enjoy watching you suffer. Perhaps he really was a masochist. You scrawl the last electron bond of the structure, releasing the pencil from your grasp and throwing your head back with a low whine. He hums in appreciation at a job well done.

“Oh my god,” you moan softly, looking down at where his hand disappears in your skirt. “Feels s-so good.”

“Yeah?” Chanhee goads, peppering kisses on your jaw and nibbling at your pulse point. “Ready to cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You can’t even reply, his cocky voice filling your head as he finally permits your orgasm, walls convulsing and clenching around his digits with a wail. It hasn’t even occurred to you that you’re in a very public, very open space, where anyone could walk in at any given moment. Your brain is too foggy from your overstimulated cunt and the comprehension that Choi Chanhee just fucking fingered you to even consider the consequences of the location.

It only takes a few seconds for you to come to, your body catching up with your head. You look at Chanhee with eyes resembling those of a prey cornered by its predator.

“Why is your hand still inside my skirt?”

“‘S warm down there,” he shrugs with a sly smile. “Besides, I’m not really done with you yet.”

“What are you talking about…?” You trail off, throat dry from how winded this guy was making you.

“You still need some practice before your midterm, no? And I kinda wanna see how pretty you look under me.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz chanhee #the boyz new #tbz chanhee #tbz new #choi chanhee x reader #choi chanhee smut #chanhee x reader #chanhee smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

Miracle-two

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Authors Note: Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

"How is she?"

I clutched my phone between my shoulder and ear as I carried the box of merch to the table that was set up inside the venue.

"This morning was rough, but we managed."

"Yeah it was like that the other night," I sighed.

Three days ago, after I came home to the lingering smell of gas in the house, I decided that no matter how much it cost I would hire a live-in nurse to stay with my mom while I was on the road. It would only be for one month then once the tour was over, I would quit and find a job that let me be home with her. That night, I woke up in the middle of the night from screaming coming from the front yard and that's where I found my mom only wearing her underwear standing in the middle of the yard. It was cold and her blue lips were trembling, guilt ate away at me because I didn't know how long she was out there. I think she must have been in a catatonic state and woke herself out of it with her screams.

Then the night before I left for tour, I woke up to my mom looming over me in my bed with a bat clutched tightly in her hands. She didn't recognize me and threatened to beat me with the bat if I didn't get out of her house. It took a soft voice and calmness but I coaxed her back into bed, the fear of my life eating away at my insides.

Of course, when I hired the nurse, I was one hundred percent upfront with her about all the bad. The nurse, Lana, never cringed or ran out like I thought she would. She was a few years younger than my mom and worked with Alzheimer's patients for longer than I'd been alive. She was used to patients like this; it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Which is why in one week, I needed to send her first paycheck.

$850.

Every week, for five weeks.

It may have not seemed like a lot but for someone who struggles to pay their bills already, it was a lot. My pay for being a merch girl barely covered it and I didn't get paid until the tour ended. To say I was stressing about how to pay Lana was an understatement.

"She's resting in her room right now." Lana's voice brought me back to our conversation.

I chewed roughly on my bottom lip. "Is the door locked?"

"Don't worry, dear. I'll take good care of your mother while you're gone. Enjoy the time away."

"Please call me for anything, no matter the time," I stressed while letting the box fall to the floor at my feet.

The sound echoed through the room and I waved off the stares from Davis and Matt, who looked at me with raised brows. Lana and I talked for a few more moments before I reluctantly hung up, knowing I had to get to work. Noah was already upset with me being late getting to the venue, the last thing I needed was to get caught slacking off. It took me a long while to gain the courage to leave my mom, much to the pushing from Lana, and I ended up missing the call time for the bus to leave. I texted Davis an emergency came up and I would take a cab to the first city. It was only two hours away but the hole that burned in my wallet because of how much it cost continued to gnaw away at me.

So instead of dwelling on it, I focused my attention on getting my area set up. The table with our credit card machine, a jar for tips, and then the fence-like wall where I'd hang up every merch that we had while the boxes lined the floor at my feet. I set my area up on the other end of the ballroom where the guys would perform in which meant I could watch their set. It was like that sometimes but other times, I would be placed outside the room and wouldn't get to watch; not that I ever cared too in the past. It was our first show of the tour and I wanted everything to look perfect, not giving a reason for anyone to get upset with me being late.

No one cared, I knew that, but the nagging voice in my brain wouldn't shut up.

"Need any help?"

Turning on my heels, I gave a small smile to Bryan and shook my head. "I'm all finished, thank you though."

He returned my smile with one of his own, his camera slung around his neck. "Mind if I snap a few pics?"

"Not at all," I shook my head. "Just don't get any of me, I haven't showered yet."

Since I was late, I had the cab driver drop me off at the venue, not having time to check into the hotel we would stay at tonight to shower. Our next show was in two days about ten hours away so we weren't in a rush to get there.

Bryan chuckled while snapping a few pictures of the merch area.

"Well, I'm sure you can sneak away for a bit."

I groaned, the thought of a shower making me smile. "Tell Matt if he needs me to text me?"

With a quick wave goodbye, I gathered my things and quietly slipped away from the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the show.

With the two trays full of coffee in my hands, I entered the venue through the back way and made my way towards the ballroom where I knew everyone would be. I was only gone for less than two hours, using that time to get a quick nap and freshen up for tonight. Davis texted me a long order of coffee, almost everyone wanting some sort of caffeine. Thankfully, he also sent me the money to cover paying for it.

I made some small talk as I handed Matt, Bryan, and Davis their coffee. Ruffilo and Folio came by to grab their orders while Jolly, who opted out of coffee with a shake of his head.

"Who's the last coffee for?" I asked.

"Noah," Jolly answered. "He's up on stage if you want to bring it to him."

I'd rather pour this hot coffee over my head than go talk to him.

I haven't seen him since I got the call from the fire department. He over heard the conversation, knowing something happened with my mom, but I didn't know if he would bring it up. Hopefully, he'll take his coffee and go back to whatever he was doing.

"Sure," I forced a smile on my face.

With his coffee in hand, I walked up onto the stage where I saw Noah standing looking over to the empty floor. Hearing me walk up, he peered over his shoulder at me. I did my best to not to gawk at his bare tattooed arms; the muscles tensing under his white tank top.

"Your coffee," I raised it towards him.

As he took it, our fingers brushed and the spark that shot through me made my toes curl. If Noah felt it too, he gave nothing away. With my back turned to him, I was about to walk away when his voice halted me.

"How's your mom?"

That's a loaded question.

"Uh, she's fine," I did my best to have a straight face, not wanting to give anything away. "She locked herself out of the house the other day and tried getting in through a window. A neighbor thought she was breaking in."

I was shocked in myself at how easily I came up with that lie.

"Good," Noah nodded.

Silence fell between us for a few beats and deciding that the conversation was over, I walked back over to the merch stand doing my best to ignore the burning gaze at my back as footsteps followed close. Noah was following me not stopping when we reached the merch stand.

"What are you doing?" I asked when I saw him riffling through one of the open boxes on the floor.

His eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch of me with his static gaze then pulled out a shirt and handed it to me. When I didn't take it, confused on his actions, he let out an annoyed breath.

"Either you change into this shirt or I'll do it for you, angel and I don't think you want others to see you," Noah said nodding to the group of guys a few feet away from us.

My cheeks burned hot as the blush spread everywhere over my skin because of that damn pet name. But I still didn't take the shirt from him, unsure why he wanted me to change.

"You never cared before if I wore one of your shirts during a show," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "Be a good girl and go change."

The way something rushed straight to my core shocked me. I never thought being called a good girl would turn me on the way it just had.

Licking my lips, something Noah watched intently, I carefully took the shirt from him and stalked over to the bathrooms to change.

Holy shit.

The ballroom was fucking packed, and I was running around like a madwoman at the merch stand for the last two hours. The openers finished their set, Bad Omens coming on soon, which meant everyone wanted to grab the last bit of merch before. I was so busy I barley had time to stop for two seconds to take a drink of water, something Jolly dropped off undetected by the fans before he went to the green room in the back.

"Here ya go. Enjoy the show tonight!" I gave a smile as I handed two shirts and a sweater to the couple in front of me.

With the few seconds I had between customers, I took a large gulp of water then made work of grabbing a ski mask and a shirt. It went on like this for another twenty minutes until darkness cascaded over the room, the opening sequences of Bad Omens set echoing around us. Finally, having more than two minutes for a break, I sat down on the table and took a deep breath. I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Lana.

She didn't call which meant good news but that didn't stop me from checking in.

Your mom is fine, dear. I'll have her call you in the morning. I think hearing your voice might help her remember you.

After I responded, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and busied myself by cleaning up around my station as Bad Omens played their set. I didn't bother packing up because I knew once the show ended, more people would line up for merch. Before and after the show is the busiest time for merch. Every once in a while, I would watch Noah stomp, dance, and come alive on the stage as he sang or screamed his lyrics. By now he had lost the ski mask and jacket, donning his black cargo pants and black tank top. As much as seeing him in that mask made my pussy clench, seeing him in this outfit practically made me whine with want.

I'd been attracted to guys in the past, hooking up with a few but had nothing serious. Noah, however, was different. I'd never been this infatuated with someone even though he could be a dick to me sometimes.

No, don't think about his dick.

I shook those thoughts out of my head, not wanting to go down that dark tunnel of thoughts, and texted Davis wondering if he could cover me for a few minutes so I could go to the bathroom. Instead of responding, he showed up two minutes later with a smile.

"I'll even give you five minutes for a break," he said.

"My hero," I called out over the sudden screams while rolling my eyes.

Once in the somewhat quietness of the hallway, I stood there for a few seconds taking a deep breath. My ears rang from the screams and loud music so this bit of solace was nice; until I saw the line for the bathroom. Even with Bad Omens playing, it didn't stop people from rushing to the bathroom.

I knew there was one in the green room so turning around; I followed down the long hallway before slipping behind a door at the end. It was way quieter back here, a soft thump of the bass banging against the wall as I walked into the green room, feet halting when I noticed Noah in there alone, throwing back a water bottle in one large gulp. It was at the point of the show where they had a few minutes intermission.

"Who's at the table?" He asked breathless.

Ignoring how his skin glistened under the light, I pursed my lips. "Davis. I just need to use the bathroom but the line for the one in the hallway is insane."

Noah nodded before tossing the bottle in the garbage and I walked passed him towards the bathroom but his fingers grazed over the inside of my wrist, stopping me. I stared down where our skin touched then back up to his face. He said nothing, simply brushed a strand of hair away that fell into my eyes, his fingers lingering on the skin behind my ear. Having him this close to me was enveloping my senses; I could think straight and his scent was deep in my bones. My breath hitched at how close we were and if I didn't know any better, I thought he was going to lean in to kiss me until a persistent knock pounded on the door.

"Noah! Let's go, we're going to miss our mark!" Jolly's voice rang out as he opened the door.

The speed that Noah pushed away from me made my stomach drop. He clearly didn't want to get caught touching me.

Jolly looked between Noah and I. "Am I interrupting-."

"No," Noah shook his head, not letting Jolly finish. "I was grabbing something to drink. Ready?"

As fast as Noah moved away from me, I was alone in the room just staring at the ground below my feet.

"What the fuck was that?" I grumbled, forgetting the whole reason I came in here.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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wilcze-kudly · 4 months

Text

Ok @i-put-the-ass-into-sass and @justlikedsstuff the floodgates are open.

Imagining all the Beifongs, not just Toph having extremely sensitive seismic sense.

Just i imagine it's a very strong experience, strong enough to literally replace a sense. I imagine that it can be incredibly overwhelming for people who use it alongside other senses, eg. not replacing a sense like in Toph's case. I also imagine that the younger you learn it, the bigger difficulty you have 'turning it off'.

I like to imagine it can cause migraines and overstimulation in frequent users. But being unable to use it can cause anxiety and distress, as losing any other sense would.

Lin and Su knowing when their mother is lying about coming back home before dinner.

Su listening to her mother and sister's heartbeats and wishing that they'd just speak what was on their hearts.

Lin hearing Tenzin's heart speading up when he would look at Pema and not her. Lin having difficulty walking and keeping herself balanced after losing her bending to Amon, feeling literally blinded. Trying to keep it together in front of Amon and the Equalists but having a panic attack the moment she's alone because she can't feel anything, she can't feel anything, she can't feel anything

Su being hesitant to teach Huan and the twins seismic sense, because she knows how difficult it is for children to handle. But of course, they're stubborn little things and they start learning by themselves.

Its a very rare ability, but it comes surprisingly easy to the Beifongs. Though the cost is thay children are made to deal with senses sharper than their little minds are meant for.

I always headcanon that Huan has a particularly well developed seismic sense, which is the reason he's so testy and emotional. He can feel almost everything around the house (think dolores from encanto lol) and he has difficulty processing the overwhelming amount of stimuli. He tries to express it through art and he wears thick soled shoes to block it all out.

The twins are quite the opposite. They lean into it, so much so that they refused to wear shoes when they were younger. They were also heavily affected by being suspended in a wooden cage after the family's capture. To this day they feel incredibly anxious if seperated from it for too long.

Thinking about Opal and Baatar Jr not getting the sheer magnitude of feeling everything around you like that and thinking that their siblings are just being dramatic.

Thinking about the Beifongs pulling up their feet or trying to touch the ground as little as possible when stressed or overwhelmed. Or walking barefoot if upset or unsure, to get that connection.

Thinking sbout sensing heartbeats. Hearing the moment something or someone dies for the first time. Is it an animal, a random baby bird killed by an alley cat, a beloved pet? Or is it a person?

Lin killing a criminal in the line of duty. It wasn't her fault, technically. She did everything right, she defended the civilians he was holding hostage. But she tried to block the bleeding, hearing his heatbeat get slower and slower, until it stopped completely. How empty her head must've seemed when she could no longer hear it. How visceral the guilt must've been.

Arguments must be difficult. You can feel when you hit a nerve, sense the other person's anger, tell when they go completely cold towards you.

You can never lie, not to your family. No little white lies that make day to day life easier. No secrets. All blunt honesty and beating hearts filling your ears.

You immediately know when you've said something wrong. When you've hurt someone's feelings. The guilt is instantaneous. The slight skip of someone's heartbeat is like a slap to the face.

You know when someone's lying to you. You know they're lying when they say they'll be back for dinner. You know they're lying when they tell you they'll hang out with you tomorrow. You know they're lying when they say that they love you.

Do you call them out?

Or do you keep the peace, grin and bear it?

Can you even lie to yourself, or will your own heart betray you to yourself?

You know when a sibling is crying down the hall, know that they will be witness to every intimate moment you have, as the you will be to them.

Like there's so much to do with seismic sense. I want it to be less of a gimmick and more of a deep psychological experience. Like it is in all its essence a sense. It's probably a big part of its users lives.

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yerion · 9 months

Text

for tonight.

an album is in the works for yoongi. just when stress could corrupt the rest of his mind void of inspiration, he decides to find you—the ex of bts’ main rapper.

pairing : idol!yoongi, exboyfriend!yoongi x f-reader. genres : mainly fluff.

content : yoongi takes you to his studio to prove that this isn’t just a fever dream, but his second confession.

word count : 2,7k.

“hello?” rubbing your eyes, you whimper in fatigue as you press your phone against your ear. “um,” your eyes open at the silence. “please leave a voicemail if this is anything important—”

“it’s me.”

you swallow once at the familiarity; it feels like you’re swallowing a hundred needles, or splinters—or maybe even nails.

“sorry for the random call in the middle of the night.”

it’s him.

you remember breaking up with your first boyfriend—min yoongi.

to others, he’s known as suga or agust d.

there’s no end if anyone was to discuss his successes, yet someone like you happened to be his girlfriend behind the scenes.

you were desperate to forget about him—and efforts never tend to disappoint, so it’s only normal for yours to pay off as well.

it’s been years.

“were you asleep?” yoongi asks vaguely. back then, discerning his emotions was as easy as falling asleep in his arms. now you can’t actually tell if he’s apologetic, or maybe feeling guilty—there’s a chance he could be feeling as paranoid as you right now.

then again, why would he?

“why did you call?” you finally muster the will to ask. it only cost you a few painful swallows and a couple of shallow breaths.

and it’s dead quiet again.

“why are we breaking up?”

it was dead quiet then too.

you exhale shakily as you clench your blanket in your fists.

you’re in dire of a distraction—you didn’t know you still had any space in your heart to be hurt after being scratched countless times.

you can’t believe this is real—this blazing pain you can’t compare with anything else.

why does pain like this still exist, and why is it related to yoongi again?

“i don’t know.” he just says.

he doesn’t even understand how fatal those words are to you; three simple words—three common words that possess the sick power to break you.

it’s every asshole’s evacuation and escape route. in the past, yoongi was anything but that, however time warps anyone.

“i’m hanging up if that’s all you have to say.”

“remember when you said to call when things get really hard?”

is he going through something?

last time you glanced at the internet and its headlines, you read that he’s preparing for a solo release before enlisting into the army.

that does sound like a harsh time for him, but you feel like he’s been through much worse—taking possible disbandment discussions as one, his early debut days as two, and his pre-debut shoulder injury and the story behind it as three.

“what’s wrong?” you can’t help to ask, you follow your heart more than your head—you always have; you haven’t changed.

“i…”

“did you have a drink?” you guess, only because he’s never the type to falter.

“i had a few shots of whiskey,” he confesses huskily. “it usually helps, but tonight it’s not doing shit.” you can hear his empty, hoarse laugh after indulging you into his new reality.

it’s as if you’re sobering, you slowly lift yourself up from your mattress. hair brushes past your dewy face and wetted lips, and you bring your knees close to your chest to stay seated under the slice of moonlight, eager to hear your ex-boyfriend’s rare struggle.

“how about you?” yoongi asks like he used to. “how have you been?”

“fine,” you answer. “me not calling you ever since and begging for another chance says everything.”

“i guess you’re right.” his hollow laugh reverberates in your ear. “i know it’s fucked coming from me, but i…” he breathes out loud, “—wanted to ask you a favour.”

“why?” you pry quietly. “what do i have and you don’t?” you ask with bitterness on the tip of your tongue. you’re no superstar and you’re no millionaire like him—you’re just you—the average you.

“want to find out?”

from there, all you hear is white noise. though yoongi kept the audio quite blank before, you couldn’t hear any background noise until now. there’s constant crackles and sounds that resemble the howling of the wind.

by sweeping open the curtain beside you, the drip of moonlight seeping through your room enlarges.

now you see the moon as whole in the starry sky alongside leaves rustling in sync with the noise from your phone.

“are you outside?”

“uh…” yoongi wonders huskily. he used to tousle his own hair while pondering aloud. “do you still live in the same house?” he inquires cautiously.

immediately, you crawl closer to your window, hurriedly smacking your palm against the glass to peer straight down from the third floor of your apartment.

your eyes brim with anticipation as they bounce everywhere—the flickering streetlights, the dimmed garden, the dormant cars parked outside, the swaying trees.

“are you here?” your breath trembles as you try to extinguish the glimmer of hope within. considering his status, everything he does on his own is like playing with spitting flames, although he’s human just like you.

“yeah,” he replies softly. “do you want to talk?”

“yeah,” you answer identically. “i’ll be down in a second.”

“alright.”

he always left you to hang up, and today wasn’t any different.

for a moment, you stare at your phone screen lit up with a new, unregistered number and the ongoing time beneath.

you’re inevitably on a delay because of how surreal everything is, but you manage to disconnect the call promptly in order to face him for the first time in years.

this is your ex—your ex, min yoongi, is downstairs—a ramble and an echo of your own words play inside your head while you storm out of your apartment to rush into the elevator.

because of how ungodly the hour is, there isn’t a single soul out in the lobby. secrecy is on your side today, and you know for a fact yoongi will be appreciative of it.

with breaths that you can’t even collect, you chew on your lip as the elevator dings on the ground floor.

the lobby is cold—insanely cold—the cold pierces through your skin, desperate to cling onto your heat. even so, the automatic doors slide open at the sense of your urgency, and your head turns in accordance to the voices of your heart—where is he? is he really here?

and you see him—he looks nothing like the yoongi you saw in your torturous and repetitive dreams back then.

yoongi has his eyes set to the ground as he absentmindedly roams around the front of your apartment. his pale skin infused with moonlight glows unlike his attire—he always liked his blacks.

“yoongi,” you involuntarily call out in an unexpectant soft decibel. you want to be louder, but the squeeze of your heart restricts you from doing so.

yoongi stops mid-motion to flick his head up at the sound of your velvety voice. “it really has been a while.” he laughs once in absurdity. “thanks for coming out.”

you only stepped out of your own home, but he’s the one who travelled beyond thirty minutes to see you.

“what brings you here at this time?” exhaling slowly, you hug your own bare arms to keep yourself warm.

yoongi averts your gaze by turning his head to sigh loudly. “it’s just me thinking for myself again.” he looks out, “you know how i am when it comes to my priorities.”

“did you argue with one of the boys?” you frown. “is something not working out?”

“the memories of you in my head were starting to fade,” he says. “i couldn’t sit around and let that happen.”

“we broke up.”

at that, yoongi takes his approach to walk closer. he’s intentional with his steps, keeping it slow amidst the chilliness which should be attacking him as much as it’s bothering you. “i know.” he answers deeply, still leaving gaps for you to fill.

“you’re going to be seen with me,” you dismiss heartlessly as you survey your surroundings worriedly before returning his stare.

yoongi drops his head again to exhale in thought. then, he wordlessly slides his zip up hoodie off of his shoulders to drape it around your smaller body. his eyes glide over your collarbones, but he’s quick to hide your skin by bringing each end of the hoodie together.

you raise your brow. “seriously?”

“is that all i made you think of?” yoongi cuts in. “i knew i was a shitty boyfriend, but, wow, it never gets old.” his hand drops in defeat as he laughs under his breath.

“forget it,” you bite the inner flesh of your cheek, grasping yoongi’s hoodie to tear it off. “we—no, you said you had a favour for me?”

yoongi reaches out to seize your hand, stopping you from escaping his scent and warmth. he’s rather blunt for someone who’s no longer with you anymore, nor is he even hesitant or cautious when touching you. “yeah, i do.” he then answers casually after retreating. “i have somewhere to take you.”

you don’t know how the hell you made it here; you don’t know why you’re seated here without any sort of resistance in yoongi’s studio—listening to nothing but the obnoxious ticking noises in the room.

it’s undeniably a distracting sound, so you wonder how yoongi works under it—or should you say above, considering how high he is up in the world?

“you got rid of your old speakers.” you mention as you start to realise everything in this room is unrecognisable to you.

yoongi falls lazily onto his chair, accustomed to this mundane routine of his. “which ones?”

“never mind,” you mutter in embarrassment. “it’s been years, and electronics get replaced all the time—” laughing awkwardly, you grip onto the edge of the couch. “—don’t they?”

yoongi’s breath tumbles into a nostalgic laughter. “just be yourself.”

pursing your lips uncomfortably at his familiarity towards you, your thighs tense as you remain quietly seated on his couch beside the rest of his equipment and multiple monitors projecting a music production software. “are you working on new music?” you ask out of awkwardness.

“yeah,” yoongi turns to face the main monitor. “my last album before i enlist.”

you try to swallow the gulp stuck on your throat. “when is it coming out?”

yoongi sucks in a breath as he sits back on the headrest, gazing at the ceiling thoughtlessly. “good question.” before you can open your mouth to inquire, he smiles knowingly and interrupts, “come see this,” he tilts his head in the direction of his workspace.

curious, you lift your weight off of his couch to trudge over to hover beside yoongi. your stare descends to the notebook covered in rushed, indecipherable handwriting.

“can you tell?”

by all means at his words, you squint, trying to decrypt the meaning behind his ideas formed in scribbles. “not really?” your voice projects with uncertainty.

yoongi cracks into a short, breathy laugh. “even after so many years with me.” he drags out a croaky yet deep ‘hm’ before confessing in a mutter, “it’s about you—listen, i know it doesn’t look like it, but… uh, fuck.”

you couldn’t help but to chuckle at him stressing. “yeah, okay.” you roll your eyes playfully, “sure it is.”

at your reply, yoongi wordlessly clicks through a few prompts on his computer. “and this.”

by rocking forward from where you stand, you instantly recognise the meaning behind the folders shown on the monitor. there’s four folders named after you—in your initials.

“they’re all for the album i’m working on.”

you turn to face yoongi blankly, faces now close from your slouch. “what if i told you i had a boyfriend?” you were meant to say boldly, however yoongi’s timeless pink lips take you aback.

“you wouldn’t have come out if you did.”

the confidence in his voice makes you freeze momentarily. the time he’s spent with you is definitely not a delusion. it’s no surprise he knows you well. “true.” you forfeit.

“so…” yoongi trails off huskily. “is it too late for us to start over again?”

did you hear correctly?

your heart comes to a brake; one with an aggressive skid. “are you being serious?” you ask breathily.

he nods once. “damn serious.”

you push yourself back a little, knees still bent. “i… didn’t think a day like this would come.”

“you have an unforgettable face and voice.” yoongi exhales, “i really tried.”

“thank you for not trying hard enough.” stifling your chuckle and retaining your helpless smile, you reach out to tenderly clasp his shoulders. “i think i would’ve gone crazy if you did.”

yoongi elicits laughter. “crazier than when you’re hungry?”

you attempt to shake his shoulders. “i really considered becoming your fan to justify my liking towards you.”

“even if every song of mine was based on you?” he genuinely asks. “you wouldn’t last a day being in the audience.”

“come on,” you roll your eyes.

“so stay as my girlfriend.” yoongi confesses. “i’ll treat you right—better, this time.”

you couldn’t deny the anxiety pooling in your stomach at his suggestion. after all, he’s a superstar—most fitted to be up high, sparkling like the twinkling stars in the night.

and what are you?

how will you shine beside him?

won’t you just drag him down?

no.

that’s not true.

you’re you—you’re sure you shine in your own way.

that’s the reason behind why everyone exists today.

you let a smile consume your lips as you nod. “i’ll trust you.” you muse, “like how i did long ago.”

yoongi ascends from his seat and stands on his feet, causing you to stumble back instinctively. “except this time i won’t disappoint you.” he watches you turn silent at his promise. “i have more than enough time to love you now.”

shaking your head, your smile widens. “you’re sounding a lot like someone who’s been an idol for over ten years.”

yoongi tightens his lips as he shrugs his shoulders like he normally does. “well, that’s the truth.” he answers huskily. “i’m growing old.”

“we are growing old.”

“hopefully together.”

you grimace jokingly. “you’ve gotten awfully sweeter.”

“it’s about time i try some romance.” yoongi tilts his head to the side invitingly before spreading open his arms for you to clearly jump into. it fuels a wave of nostalgia to flood into your mind.

you cross your arms teasingly, dismissing him for a moment. “in a company full of beautiful people dancing and singing everywhere they go, there’s no way you had zero interest after me.”

“just get in here.” he flicks his head towards himself and his arms.

raising one brow, you stare at him defeatedly. “you have a lot of storytelling to do.”

“and you talk too much,” yoongi says bluntly, however it’s just his way of speech. “you should know how impatient i am.”

“yeah, yeah.”

at that, yoongi loops his arms around you. with the force of his arms, causing you to subtly thud against his chest. an arm of his snakes behind your head, allowing his hand to rest against the softness of your uncombed bed hair.

taken aback, half of your face buries comfortably into the side of his neck and his left shoulder.

he still feels the same.

he still smells the same.

“thank you.” he mutters softly into your ear, holding you tightly against himself to refrain you from flipping and turning to observe his expression. “i had no hope for today, but—” he inhales sharply. “—never mind.”

you manage to leave a distance between yourself and yoongi to peer up at his face. “hey,” you whisper cautiously when you see the seriousness written over his façade. he blinks slowly, lips shut and quiet. “it’s not like we ended terribly.” extending your hand, you cup his heated cheek.

perhaps yoongi is guilty, he keeps himself isolated from the idea of elucidating.

“superstar, i’m honoured to see you look so unsure of me.”

he finally breaks into a croaky scoff. “don’t call me that.”

you quickly swoop forward to steal a kiss from his lips, immediately feeling red upon tearing away. “i’m just stating a fact.”

“i’ll be good to you.” he promises the moment you drift from his lips.

“you better.”

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mannuh0v · 2 months

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Masky/Tim Headcanons

hi hi, stopping by to say that I'm inspired and writing more and more! I hope you like it, sorry for any writing errors :)

My Headcanons Masky/Tim:

Appearance:

-This man is clearly tall, he is around 1.80 or 1.90 tall, he is not small like Toby but he is not bigger than Hoodie

-He and Hoodie are a great duo, they get along well because they know each other better. He doesn't like Toby very much, but he tries to respect him because he knows the boy's condition.

-"Where are my cigarettes?" This man has a smoking habit, are you mad? Smoke, Are you busy? Smoke, Are you observing something or someone? He smoked later. (Professional smoker your lungs ask for help)

-His voice is thick, rough and, but it can vary from person to person, never too gentle, just lower his voice to speak

-He obeys his leader at any cost, he always wants to be the favorite, not that he can't, he wants everything to be perfect, don't take it the wrong way, he knows when he's REALLY perfect

-He has a medium beard, and short straight black hair that is always well combed and never messy. He takes very good care of himself, after all, he really appreciates himself!

-Brown eyes, that's all he doesn't take off his mask much, maybe only around Hoodie but nothing more

-There are moles on the face and body, it is common but they are not attractive, well hidden after all

Well-being and Unwellness

-Bom Tom is not the same person as Masky so his tastes vary between different things, like one likes music the other doesn't like it much, he has two personalities within him, he has difficulty knowing what he likes or not.

-Being alone, something he really enjoys as he tends to not be good socially (None of these guys are after all)

-He doesn't like to share, he could be talking to Hoodie and Toby bothers him and he will get stressed or leave or probably have a fight

-Women, he doesn't know how to act well, he's never liked anyone, but if it happens it won't be long before a disappearance occurs, he knows how to make plans that won't fail for anything.

-Fairly though, he hates losing in basic things like board games

Masky: "You're stealing, aren't you?"

Toby: "No, to be honest I don't even know how to play this"

Work:

-He took the missions extremely seriously so you don't want to get in the way or else something will get ugly between you and Masky

-He doesn't always have a straight face, he knows how to smile, he just doesn't do it a lot

-He likes animals, but he wouldn't have a pet because he doesn't have time to take care of it, the pet would end up dead or something like that

-Good at disguises, if he needs to become a teacher he will do it and always do it perfectly so that the mission is completed without any hesitatio

-"Damn, what did they do to my car!"-he is jealous of anything that is his, including people, cars, objects or even pens

Well guys, that's it, sorry for any serious mistakes, I'm dying of sleep, I don't know if it's written correctly! :)

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #masky marble hornets #tim masky #kate the chaser #jeff the killer #creepypasta fanart #jane the killer #nina hopkins #ticcy toby #hoodie marble hornets

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wonijinjin · 8 months

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figure you out

author’s note: the request can be found here

synopsis: the members of seventeen think you look rather scary while dino says otherwise, but who is right?

word count: 1.6k | genre: fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort | pairing: idol! dino x gn! idol! reader | warnings: reader has low self esteem in some parts

you have always been told that you look intimidating, but until the point of getting to know seventeen you never really believed it. you were the leader of the newly debuted group of HYBE, and with that title came many responsibilities; you had never imagined this to be as hard as it was, always keeping everything you had to do as a leader in mind is a tough job for sure, so you being stressed was an understatement.

chan first saw you at the HYBE building, walking to (he supposed was) practice, a frown evident on your face the whole time, only forming into a shy smile when you greeted him with a bow. first he thought you were kind of scary, he never saw you really smile, a somewhat sad and tired look always being prominent on your face. it was rare to see you show many emotions during times he got the chance to see you, but when you did he felt he was hit by cupid; your laugh (which he sadly couldn’t hear often) would always light up the hallway, and he always caught himself smiling when he heard it.

of course it is not a surprise that soon enough the other members of seventeen caught up to his lovesick look when he saw you even for a moment. “chan, are you kidding me? you have a crush on y/n? but how? like no offense or anything, but y/n always gives everyone this angry look and never talks to anyone, it is kinda scary to be honest.” dk asked him when they decided to take a break during dance practice. “and y/n also has a laugh that is so beautiful, i am not threatened by a frown, i want to hear that laugh again, i want to hear it again because i made y/n laugh.” he said while having that warm look on his face again, even just the thought of you made him excited and happy. “also, you are quite rude to be judging a person by their appearance, you know?” chan answered while raising his brows in disagreement. “okay i’m just saying! you really are interested in y/n, huh? i have never seen you defend someone this quickly, well except for our members of course.” dk sighed.

a week after this conversation the members decided to take matters into their own hands; they needed to figure out what kind of person you were, after all it was about their dear youngest member’s emotions, which they wanted to protect at all costs.

the duo of mingyu and scoups took on the responsibility of stalking you after schedules, which you of course didn’t know about. you often stayed behind after schedules so they followed you to the practice room, and peeked in, watching you get to work with your debut song’s choreo, while preparing for your first comeback’s dances aswell. they watched as you fell, trying to learn one of the difficult moves over and over again, with not much success. ten minutes later there you were, on the floor, panting, silently sobbing. “how am i in this group in the first place? why can’t i learn faster? the others depend on me, i need to get this right to help them!” you mumbled to yourself, trying to collect some motivation to continue.

“poor little thing.” scoups said, knowing how difficult it is for a leader to always be on top of the situation. “i remember how hard we had to work even in our rookie days, this brings back memories.” mingyu added. meanwhile you stood up and collected your belongings, ready to leave the room. “oh wait y/n has already finished, let’s go.” mingyu whispered, dragging scoups with him so you wouldn’t see them.

next time the members of seventeen got to see a bit more of you was at lunchtime in the cafeteria of HYBE, where you sat alone, laptop next to you. you were interacting with your fans on Weverse, which they learned was a frequent activity of yours; you wanted to communicate with them as much as you could, so even during lunch you couldn’t miss commenting on posts and telling the fans to always eat and sleep well in cute little videos. after being done with your SNS duties, you continued work with writing lyrics for your already half-finished solo song which you hoped would be included on an album one day, also practicing for helping in future productions for your group.

“woah, y/n is still working even at lunch?” joshua pointed in your direction from the other side, dk whom he was with snapping his head where you sat. “where are the other group members though?” dk questioned, confused. “i just saw them leave as they were done for the day.” joshua replied. “so they really left y/n here alone? man, that is kind of sad.” you finished your lunch and got up, leaving quickly. joshua and dk were curious about where you headed as anyone who was done with their day at work would’ve definitely gone home. well, not you, you went to practice your vocals a bit in the vocal room, they could clearly hear your voice from the halllway. “damn, y/n has a great voice.” joshua said, dk agreeing. “and i didn’t know they had a song like this!” dk raised his brows, further listening to the lyrics. “because they don’t! i think y/n may have written this! so this must be what all that work earlier was about!” joshua figured. it has to be said; they were pretty impressed by your passion and hard work, so much so that they were starting to feel guilty about questioning why chan had a crush on you.

“honestly, y/n is a pretty cool person, next time we shouldn’t judge only depending on a first impression.” scoups said when the members were together at a restaurant, at their monthly dinner meeting. “see? i told you, and i bet y/n is so much more kindhearted, we just haven’t seen enough yet.” chan replied, finally satisfied with his members liking you. to their surprise you entered the room with a mop in your hand, apron on your waist. when you saw them your face went pale for a moment, not knowing how to act with your seniors all at a table on the opposite side. seungkwan was the first to talk to you, saying hi and questioning why you were there dressed like a worker of the place. “well, actually this restaurant is my grandparents’ and on days i have time i always come by to help them, especially with cleaning so they don’t have to do it after closing.” you replied with a small smile. “seriously? this is so considerate of you, on top of everything you still help them, you are so sweet!” chan said as the others were too stunned to speak; never in their lives did they imagine you to be this responsible and humble. “well, i am trying my best to be helpful.” you chuckled, which made chan’s heart jump.

after finishing their meal the members were getting ready to leave when chan spoke up. “i will stay a bit more, seeing if i can help y/n with anything here.” this earned a knowing look from his members, patting him on the back as they left. you came outside only to find him standing in front of you. “do you need help with anything? i thought i might ask you know, it must be hard to handle this all by yourself.” he grinned, to which you replied with a giggle. “thank you, but i don’t need any help. don’t you have somethingto say to me though? perhaps another reason why you stayed behind?” you grinned, waiting for him to realise that you knew; you saw how he looked at you many times when you two ran into each other at the company building. “was i that obvious? this is kind of embarrassing then, as you already know that i want to confess to you.” he blushed. “i was wondering why you never came up to me to be honest.” he looked away. “well, you always looked like you didn’t want anybody to speak to you, or like you could fall asleep every minute, so it wasn’t quite easy to approach you.” he said in a lower tone. “am i really that scary to people around me? for real?” your jaw was on the floor, not believing that the things people say about you always looking kind of unfriendly was true. “yeah…the members thought you seemed too cold-looking fir a period of time…” chan admitted, not daring to look into your eyes. “but

that has changed of course, they really admire you, just like i do.” he quickly added. “i am so sorry, i just look like that, i have many things to do so i don’t get much sleep and i am always lost in thought, so that must explain the frown.” you looked down, feeling bad that the members didn’t like you, even to the point of needing to be convinced somehow. he moved closer to you. “i don’t mind it. i like you the way you are y/n. i think i have been having a crush on you since the first moment i saw you, frown or not, i like really like you, and i want to get to know you better in the future.” he whispered, his eyes looking at your lips. “well i like you too, but are you gonna kiss me already or am i still that scary then?” you mumbled. he didn’t need anything else to give him a green light, kissing you quickly. after pulling apart he laughed. “then would you be mine?” he asked. “i am already yours, chan.”

#wonijinjin #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #fluff #seventeen dino #lee chan #svt dino #dino x y/n #dino x reader

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