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#feels like final destination on crack

yndrgrl · 2 months

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your boyfriend, katsuki bakugo, loves you dearly, but you're scared you'll never be deserving of him

cute lil dabble. lowkey songfic. fem! reader. angst to comfort. fluff. established relationship. any au. overthinking! reader.

warnings: there are none :D

a/n: picture a "too sweet" by hozier girl x "i wanna be yours" by arctic monkeys boy relationship !

katsuki is always characterized as hostile yet calculating, a man who knows exactly what he wants. he's destined to be the top of the food chain, everyone knows it. he's powerful man with a deadly gorgeous face, his fangirls would describe.

& in comes you. plain old you.

you honestly have no idea what katsuki sees in you. like, if you're digging deep in yourself, maybe he likes your for your dark, crude sense of humor that always seems to make him belly laugh.

it's said that he's an early bird. he's awake before you every single day, asleep & sound by 8:30-- on the weekends, he'll push it to 10:00. before you've said your first words of the day, he's already made his side of the bed, made & ate breakfast, put away the laundry, & is off to his morning run after his morning workout. his good habits he's developed early in life has benefited him in every way.

he never procrastinated on chores, his paper work is flawless, & you could learn a thing or two from his time management skills. he's always making time for spontaneous dates you wanna go on, festivals you wanna visit, & he makes sure that the pantry is stacked with your favorite snacks. any of your interests are his interests, even if he doesn't fully understand it.

when it comes to katsuki, you ought to wonder if he ever wants to experience something different from his strict, repetitive lifestyle. you sometimes feel stupid for wanting more out; you want to travel somewhere far away, you want to go out clubbing with a bunch of strangers, you want to move to the country side & live in a cottage. katsuki always reels in your dreams, encouraging you but also reminding you that you need to stay consistent to achieve them. you're jealous with how fast he can accept reality.

"babe? you listening?" katsuki questioned, snapping you out of your thoughts. you blinked a couple of times then nodded almost-too enthusiastically. he let out a little chuckle & stroked your cheek with his thumb. "what're you thinking about?"

"nothing, i'm sorry," you sighed with your hands in your lap. you both were on the couch, doing your own thing. he was on his phone, & you were supposed to be doing some work on your laptop, but you found yourself spacing out again.

"don't apologize. i'm just curious about what's going on in that pretty, little head of yours," he told you before he took your hand & pressed his lips against your knuckles. you thought to yourself, i'm not good enough for this man.

you debated whether or not to tell the truth. on one side, he has been your devoted boyfriend for years now, but on the other, he could just be asking out of curtesy. like, what if he actually does not care at all- "(y/n)? talk to me. i know you have something you wanna say," katsuki commented, scooting closer to you. he set the pillow that you placed your laptop on the coffee table so he could get your undivided attention. he caressed your thigh to help ground you.

you stayed silent for a moment, & he waited patiently. you swallowed, your eyes darted from his piercing red ones to the floor to his hands. finally, you said, "you're too sweet for me." he laughed & laughed, & you couldn't help but crack a smile. "what? what's so funny?" you pouted.

"sorry for laughing, princess. it's just no one ever calls me sweet. like, ever," admitted katsuki as he settled down from his fit of laughter. what he said was true though, he didn't have a problem with it. he was not sweet at all, he was rough around the edges & egotistical with the skills to back him up. he only ever thinks about himself & you. "but what makes you say that, hm?"

"well, for one, you always treat me out & take me anywhere i want. we never go where you wanna go," you pointed out, jabbing your finger in his toned chest playfully.

"that doesn't make me sweet. i have the money, & i don't fuckin' care about where we go to eat."

you chose to ignore him, rolling your eyes at him because that was his excuse every time. "two, you're literally in the prime of your life, & you choose to go to sleep at 8:30? how do you sleep so well?"

"(y/n), what is this really about?" he questioned. katsuki brushed your hair away from your face, tucking the silky strands behind your ear. "& don't lie to me, i know you."

"ugh, fineee," you groaned as you threw your head back. maybe it was for comedic effect, or to gather your thoughts & regulate the tears that started to well in your eyes. "do you think i'm like, worthy of you?"

"worthy of me?"

"yeah, do you think i'm good enough for you?" you rephrased, pulling your hands away from him to rub your upper arm. it's embarrassing to admit something, it's scary too. what if, once you point it out, he'll agree & leave you?

"'course i do! i'm the best around & i got the best fuckin' girl, why are you thinking this shit?" katsuki exclaimed, his passion that you wish you had seeping through to his tone. a moment of thick silence followed, you took a deep breath. you suck at emotions.

"you're too good for me, okay! you're so much stronger than everyone, & if that wasn't enough, you're insanely smart! i'm just... here. average at best. people praise you like the morning after an eternity of darkness. you're the rain after a heatwave. everything works out for you, & i'm just the one holding you back from even better things-"

"babe, you're not holding me back or whatever. you've never held me back," he stated like it was a fact, but you felt as though he was just saying that to calm you down. it angered you, & you were ashamed that you were angry because it wasn't even directed at him, it was directed at the fact you felt unworthy.

"no, you don't get it! i aim low because it's realistic for me, i can't afford to aim for anything else because i'm destined to fail. you, on the other hand... you have so much potential. don't you get embarrassed about having a girlfriend like me?"

"no." he answered so quickly, like it was rehearsed, like he knew what you were going to say. "i've never felt embarrassed of you ever. you're so fuckin' dense, you know that?"

you paused just to stare at him. katsuki sure had a way with comforting people. even after years of being a hero, he never learned how to traditionally comfort people. tough love, everyone would call it. but with you, he forced himself to be tender because you deserve treatment no one else gets from him.

there were so many things he wanted to say to you. don't you realize what you do for him? god, katsuki would go mad living without you now that he knows what life is like with you, his missing rib. the two of you are meant to be, you're two sides of the same coin. so what if he's as bright as the morning? you were his darling night, the very universe was visible through your eyes.

"you must be dense if you really thing you're just average. would i go for an average girl?"

"i mean-"

"no, the answer is no. you're deserving of love, my love. everything you've accomplished, everything you've overcome, you're just diminishing it because what? you think you're dumb or something? you- you..." you're the reason my world goes round, you are so talented, he was so desperate to shout these praises at you.

he was never one for romantic gestures through words. if he did, he would've been the best damn poet in the game. "i am yours."

it was such a simple sentence, yet it shook you to the core. you stared into his lively, crimson eyes. the look he gave you in return made your breath hitch; he was so deeply devoted to you, as deep as the pacific ocean.

you leaned in, capturing him in a kiss. tears rolled down your cheeks, your despair melting away. you felt like the two of you were kids again, sharing your first kiss. how could you doubt a man who so clearly, who so desperately, loves every bit of you.

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mvltisstuff · 10 months

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going, going, gone - c.f

summary: y/n’s the only person who can get conrad, and he realizes that maybe he’s been falling for the wrong conklin.

conrad fisher x conklin!reader

gif from @conradfiisher

a/n: this will likely have a part two, so it probably won’t end here!! no promises as to when pt 2 is out but it will be there eventually ;)) this is literally me wishing i could slap some sense into belly

part two

“hey,” y/n greets, stepping into the beach house and finding conrad unpacking.

“hi,” he smiles lightly. the past few months have been nearly impossible. trying to crack conrad open is like trying to break into a safe. it took y/n forever to be able to understand conrad, and now that she finally did, there was an undeniable spark. she could sense the tension in his mind, knowing that something had set him off. he looked like he just wanted to break down, but he didn’t want to. if he did, he doesn’t know how to put himself back together.

“you ok?” she asks, cautiously. he’s almost like a wild animal, get too close and he runs away. especially since susannah died, he hasn’t been able to find a connection like the one he had with his mother.

“fine,” he mumbles, folding a few blankets onto the couch and placing some pillows beside it.

“conrad, don’t play this game with me again,” y/n sighs, stepping closer to him. he pauses in his movements to look up at her, slapping one last piece of decor on the mantle. “can we at least talk about the exam?”

“i, um,” he stutters, unable to find the right words that have disappeared in his mind. it’s like he completely pushed out the exam, all the other events had forcefully taken the excitement from it. “i feel really good about it, but it’s just an exam.”

y/n can tell in his slumped stance that something is truly disturbing him. he looks broken, and whoever did it certainly failed to put the pieces back together. it appears that they didn’t even try. “talk to me, conrad. please?”

he stops, breaking eye contact. he can’t look at her while he tells her because she can’t see his face when he says it. he doesn’t want y/n to see him crack under the pressure again.

“jeremiah and belly were making out on my car when i came out of testing. i walked out and there they were.”

“what?” y/n spits out, thinking about everything belly had told her before. “i thought she said she moved on-“

“yeah, i did, too,” his voice breaks, still avoiding any looks to y/n. if y/n sees him falling apart over belly, y/n would probably say something. the last thing conrad wants is for belly to know the affect this had on him.

“conrad, you know you can talk to me, right?” she steps closer, wanting to reach out her hand to him but knowing he probably doesn’t want it. he wants belly’s. “anything you say to me won’t get back to her.”

he slightly turns, finally letting his eyes wander up y/n’s body until they meet hers. he’s always found a trust in y/n. she’s been there since they were little kids, but it’s always felt different. there was an innocence to her, she felt like home and he could always run back to her if he needed her. he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he ruined that.

“i’m just so tired, y/n. it’s just one step forward and two steps back. i thought we could finally be over this, but they both just stabbed me in the back. on my car, during my test, in my hoodie. my mom always said belly was destined for me, but it just feels like jere took that.”

y/n can feel the hurt as well as see it on conrad’s face. she’s able to read him so well now that he’s not afraid to open up. she feels like they’ve gotten through a door, a point where they can share secrets and find a safety net in the other. “belly doesn’t deserve you, conrad. she’s not as mature as you, and you can thrive without her, i swear.”

“i’ll be ok, i just need a break from all this shit,” he groans, allowing y/n to finally walk up to him and hold his hand. “i don’t know if we can go back to the way things were after this.”

“i know i can’t change what happened, but i need you to understand that you’re not alone. at this point, you come first to me.” he nods, and y/n can see the sunrise in his face a bit more, but his mind is still covered with darkness. “if you need anything, please call me or come see me, ok?”

“deal,” he cracks a little grin, making y/n smile a bit in return.

“take care of yourself, connie,” she says before opening the front door. she starts the long drive home knowing what’s waiting for her there.

she plants her stuff down on the counter, letting her body relax after the hours behind the wheel. she starts to clean up some of the mess that she left on the counter when she hears squeaky footsteps come down the stairs.

“hey, you’re back already?” belly says, lurking into the kitchen to lean against the frame. y/n doesn’t say anything, she just looks at her and continues to organize everything. “what’s wrong, why do you look like that?”

“honestly, belly, i’m just trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“what do you mean?” belly asks, trying to think about why her older sister could have a reason to be mad at her.

“i stopped at cousins on the way home,” y/n informs her, belly knowing exactly where she left conrad.

“y/n, you can’t be pissed off because of what he told you-“

“no, belly, i have every right to be pissed. i’m pissed for conrad. you left him in the dust and you have no shame about it.”

“it just happened, jeremiah and i. i never wanted to hurt conrad, but im in love!”

“yeah, you were also in love last week with conrad. and the week before with jeremiah. you need to move on from them, bell,” y/n sighs, allowing belly some time to build another response.

“who are you to even say that?”

“because i’ve been there for both of them! i was there for jeremiah when you wanted conrad. i’m there for conrad because you are playing with their hearts like they’re toys. i can tell your hearts not fully in it with jeremiah, but i’m not gonna let you destroy those boys even more.”

“how am i destroying them?”

“belly, wipe that innocence off your face. you’ve managed to rip apart the fisher brothers because you cannot pick which one you like more.”

“but-“

“no, belly! listen to me,” y/n cuts her off before she can try and make anything better. “you couldn’t even contain yourself at susannah’s funeral because you were too worried about conrad. i know we are all grieving, but you are acting like you’re more worried about which brother likes you more. it’s exhausting having to clean up the mess you make over and over again. you’re slowly ruining this bond for me, for steven, for mom! you know i love you more than words, but if you keep playing with their feelings, belly, this family is going to be destroyed.”

“y/n, susannah told me-“

“use susannah as an excuse one more fucking time, belly.” the room goes deadly silent, y/n sick of the excuses and victimized mentality of belly. when steven comes stepping quietly into the room, he ganders softly into the chaotic mess that has formed between his sisters. she swipes her keys back off the table, grabbing an extra bag out of the closet. “i’ll be back.”

“where are you going?” belly says, eyes full of tears from her fear of confrontation. her voice was shaky, and y/n could still feel a sting of guilt in her chest. she hated to build a bigger wall between everyone, but belly had to hear it.

“i’m going to look after conrad, because you failed to do it,” y/n ends their conversation, slamming the front door behind her and moving to the car. she left the house with a terrible tone, but someone else needed her more. belly had jeremiah, taylor, steven, laurel, anyone she wanted. conrad had y/n, and that became enough for him.

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haknom · 3 months

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THIS MUST BE MY DREAM — YANG JUNGWON

∿ 📋 SCORE SHEETS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jungwon was living his best life at Earl View Academy. He was scoring the highest marks, dominating every exam, and ranking the top one out of every student. See, he was living his best life at Earl View Academy before you came along, destroying his reputation because of your similar level in academics. It had to be a dream, there was no way someone could compete with him. With that said, he immediately renamed you as the new student to his one and only arch nemesis.

∿ TOP RANKS ✂️ academic-rival!jungwon x fem!reader (ft. jungwon from enhypen, baekseung from epex, and minji from newjeans)

∿ EXAM REVIEW ⟡ insp by doctor slump, long fic, academic rivals to lovers, rivals to lovers, highschool au, nerds to lovers, fluff, crack, and angst.

∿ 📔 STUDY NOTES ୨ৎ swearing, bickering, mentions of pills (painkillers), skipping meals, fainting, crying, being sick, and mental health issues, lmk if i missed anything.

∿ NUMBER OF EXAM QUESTIONS 🎓 14980 words

∿ FEEDBACK . . . and with that said it’s finally done!!!!! took me two months cs i took so many breaks …. happy belated jungwon day? LMFAO… and tysm to @soov for proofreading all the way !!! love u rei <33

∿ STUDY PLAYLIST 🎶 click here!

RANK ONE.

In Earl View Academy, everyone wanted to live Jungwon’s life. He was a son everyone wanted—not his words—and that made him feel good about himself. Even if he was quite the goofball, he still aced all his assignments while having fun.

His life was perfect.

“Jungwon!” His friend, Baekseung called, gaining his attention almost immediately. The boy looked over at his brown-haired friend with a smile, pausing the movements of his pencil gliding against his notebook.

“Hm?” He hummed, waiting for his friend to continue talking. Baekseung took a seat on the window sill beside Jungwon as Minji walked into the classroom.

“Did you see the banner they hung up? It has something to do with University, I believe.” He said as Minji walked towards them.

“Here.” She held out her phone, showing the boys a picture of the banner. It showcased a brief description of what to expect when applying to the University of Seoul and the date of submission—February 9th of 2024.

Jungwon’s birthday.

It was perfect timing, almost as if it was destined to be. His reputation at school and his relationship with his teachers would easily help him get accepted, right?

“The acceptance rate is 40%, which isn’t all bad, but many people apply, so…” Minji explained, turning off her phone, and shoving it into her back pocket. Jungwon tapped his pencil against his chin to a random, yet consistent rhythm in his head.

Jungwon’s friends always enabled his confidence. He was aware of his smartness, but they made it seem bigger than it really was.

“Although a lot of people apply, I’m sure you’ll get accepted. Your application will catch their eyes immediately, trust me.”

Jungwon bit back a smile at Baekseung’s words, sending him an amused nod instead.

“I’m sure it will.” He replied, returning his focus to his notes. Before his friends appeared, he was working on a few equations, to make sure they stuck with him for their test.

It was his way of studying; learn the materials in class and study them like his life depended upon it.

It worked like a charm every time.

“I don’t get how you understand these things.” Baekseung said while peeking over at his work. Jungwon smiled, letting out a chuckle.

He never did, it wasn’t anything new.

“See, you start with your values, then you write out your formula and substitute your variables for your numbers—”

“Enough! You lost me at the word ‘values.’” He exclaimed, causing both Jungwon and Minji to laugh.

“Hey, when you get accepted into the University of Seoul, don’t forget me.” Baekseung pleaded and leaned in with his hands desperately clasped together.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

Jungwon dropped his pencil, letting it lay flat on his notebook, and placed his hands on top of Baekseung’s.

“You have nothing to worry about.” He said, playing along with Baekseung’s act.

“I don’t get how I was pulled into this trio,” Minji said, cringing at the sight before her.

“Yeah, me neither.” Baekseung smiled at Jungwon, then, removed his hands from underneath his, and returned to his spot on the window sill.

“Oh well, here we are now. You love us, right?” Jungwon teased, the cringing expression never leaving Minji’s face.

The two boys stared at her in silence, waiting for her response. They wouldn’t let her off the hook if she didn’t open her mouth to say anything.

“Fine. I do.” She replied, earning bright smiles from her friends in return. She shook her head, a small smile making its way to her face.

It was impossible to avoid their faces. Even if they weren’t trying, they still managed to swoon her over with one look. They were unstoppable together.

Jungwon went back to studying as Minji and Baekseung playfully bickered over a past memory. It was a common occurrence, nothing new.

“I heard they’re selling Yakult in the cafeteria today!” A classmate said to their friend, gaining the three’s attention immediately.

They stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They gave each other a look that only they could understand. There were no words shared, only their eyes held their words.

Soon after, Baekseung and Jungwon got up from their spots, following behind Minji who led them out of the classroom.

Yakult was their favourite thing ever. It was something all three of them could agree on—that they tasted delightful. Other than that, they all had different tastes in a way.

“Finally, they’re bringing it back!” Minji cheered, happier than ever. Baekseung, who stood in the middle, wrapped his arms around the two to pull them in closer.

“Do we have a plan?” He asked as Minji scoffed.

“Do we even need one? Just do whatever your mind tells you to.” She said and he nodded.

“Smart choice.”

The two conversed alone just as they did back in the classroom, except Jungwon wasn’t studying. He could’ve been included in their conversation right now, they weren’t excluding him at all.

He just didn’t pay attention. He didn’t even take note that they were talking because it all sounded muffled to him.

All he paid attention to was his homeroom teacher who walked down the hallways, lips moving as if he was talking to someone, but Jungwon didn’t know who.

Once he walked past, it was then revealed. A girl stood fairly behind his homeroom teacher, catching Jungwon’s attention.

He had no clue who she was, nor had he ever seen her face before, he ‘didn’t’ even care about what her name was, what time she arrived, what foods she liked, why she was wearing their school’s uniform, or what she had for breakfast.

All he cared about was how pretty she was, and fine, maybe what her name was too. Previously, if someone were to tell him about another being heaven-sent he wouldn’t understand them.

Now, he really does because she, she was heaven-sent to him at least.

“You okay?” Baekseung asked, looking over at Jungwon’s dazed figure. He shook Jungwon with the arm that rested over his shoulder, startling the poor boy.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”

Well, he hoped he was.

“Sweet, if I’m not wrong, lunch starts in about 3 minutes. Therefore, I believe we’ll be first…” Baekseung paused, his voice growing quieter at the sight before them.

“… In line.” His words were almost like a whisper. He was practically speechless at the line. At least 20 students were already waiting for their Yakult’s.

“Yeah, um, maybe we do need a plan,” Minji said, regretting her previous words. There was no way they’d get through a line like this one.

“Maybe? We 100% need a plan.” Baekseung said, his arms slipping off their shoulders.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine if we just wait. It can’t be that bad—Woah! Okay. Maybe it is bad.” Jungwon’s reassuring words were cut off by his shocked ones.

The line extended even further. How was that even possible?

“Hey, Min, what time is it?” Jungwon asked Minji as she checked her phone that previously sat in her back pocket.

“11:37 AM.” She replied, still flabbergasted at the number of students waiting for their Yakult’s.

“Do you think that will be enough time to visit the nearest convenience store and then come back?” Jungwon asked, desperate for an escape. He was still craving a Yakult, but they wouldn’t get one at this rate.

“It’s 27 (81 Fahrenheit) degrees Celsius outside…” Baekseung muttered, mentally sweating at the thought.

“We can get ice cream as well…” Jungwon whispered, scared that the line of students would overhear his words and run after them.

What if they were craving ice cream too? It wasn’t just the three of them who were feeling hot.

“Smart choice. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” Minji cautiously walked away from the entrance of the cafeteria, careful not to make a sound as the two boys did the same.

Yes, they were being very dramatic right now, but that line of students was very intimidating.

The three returned to class with leftovers of their ice creams, hoping nobody would ask them for at least one lick—it was disgusting to know that they were serious.

“Oh, Jungwon,” Minji said, remembering something from earlier. Jungwon hummed in response, his mouth full of ice cream.

“Did you even start your applications? Our midterms are soon, so I’m sure our guidance counsellors are going to approach you about it.”

“Are you worried for me? Or do you want to use my application as a template for yours?”

“I…” Minji stayed silent as Baekseung stifled a laugh. She sent him a glare, causing him to clear his throat. What was he laughing at? He was bound to do the same exact thing.

“Fine, you caught me. But hey, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!” She exclaimed as Jungwon chuckled, getting up from his seat to throw away his ice cream wrapper.

“If you want, I can assist you—”

“Guys, guys!” A classmate shouted while running into the classroom shocked. Everyone’s heads turned to look at the said boy, more confused than ever. What lie was he about to spurt next?

“I just saw a pretty, pretty girl in the teacher’s office. I think she’s a new student.” He explained, however, nobody reacted.

“Are you lying to cover up the fact you were being scolded in the office?” Another classmate asked, causing laughs to erupt from other students in the room. Jungwon smiled to himself, that was a good one.

“I’m serious! I heard she might even be smarter than Jungwon!” The student exclaimed, causing Jungwon’s smile to falter and his pen to stop moving.

All eyes were focused on him as he slowly looked up at the shouting boy.

“Eh, I’m sure there’s no one who can compare to his level!” Baekseung said, patting Jungwon on his shoulder and smiling.

Jungwon was considered very smart for someone his age. It was a common compliment he received, but he didn’t hate it. It was quite ego-boosting.

“Everyone! Have a seat please.” Ms. Eun walked through the doors of their classroom, and another student walked in a few moments later.

“Obviously, I’m sure you’re aware of the new student joining our class today! Please make (Name) (Last Name) feel welcome in our classroom!” She explained as Jungwon’s eyes widened.

You were the same girl he saw in the hallways earlier. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat and his ears went numb at the sight of you.

“Oh, Jungwon. (Name) also got perfect on the entrance exam and was the top student at her old school. It must be great to meet someone at your level.” Ms. Eun smiled as all the emotions Jungwon had felt earlier plummeted.

So his classmate wasn’t lying. There was really someone who matched his skill of knowledge.

You looked over at the boy Ms. Eun referred to, noticing the way his expressions switched. At first glance, he was calm, but his eyes said otherwise.

They held an emotion you’ve never seen in anyone else’s—a desire to win. And, of course, you wouldn’t let him achieve that goal of his.

If someone were to win and maintain that top student rank, it would be you and you only.

You two hadn’t even spoken to one another, but within those 2 minutes of staring into each other’s eyes, it was obvious you both saw each other as a threat.

No matter what, only one of you can have that title.

RANK TWO.

“Jungwon, you haven’t looked up from your notebook this whole class,” Minji said, turning around in her seat to face him.

“Literally! There’s not even a single test coming up. What is there to be reviewed at this point?” Baekseung chimed in with a frown.

Yet, Jungwon didn’t look up, easily proving their point. It had been a week since you first arrived at Earl View Academy.

A week since Jungwon first felt threatened by your appearance. His life was perfect until you arrived.

His friends swore they hadn’t had one single hangout since then, but he said otherwise.

“You do know, you reviewing your notes while Minji and I converse without you, isn’t a hangout right?”

Jungwon’s pencil stopped moving for a brief moment, only to start up again at an even faster pace.

He couldn’t fall behind you.

He glanced over at your focused state, glaring in the process. You seemed to be at ease and he wasn’t.

That should’ve been him.

What happened to the perfect life that everyone wanted to live? The one where he could be happy and carefree even while passing all his classes with 100s?

“Don’t tell me you feel threatened—”

Jungwon’s pencil-led snapping silenced Baekseung’s voice almost immediately. He looked up at his friend, eyes darker than usual. There wasn’t his signature gleam that complimented his dimpled smile. He looked like he was ready to kill someone.

“Minji…” Baekseung called, signalling for her to take over the conversation. Sadly, that failed. She was just as scared as him.

“Hey, I could, uh… I could sharpen this for you!” She exclaimed, instead of continuing the same topic as before.

She took the pencil out of his hold, but Jungwon silently searched his pencil case for another one.

He had no time to waste. He was almost done with his notes.

Minji took her seat again, placing the boy’s broken pencil beside his notebook with a soft, yet dragged-out ‘okay.’

There would’ve been no point in going anyway.

“Dude, why don’t you let loose a bit?” A classmate said to their friend and began shaking their shoulders.

“I can’t! You know how my mom is about my grades right now…” He mumbled, embarrassed.

The boy from earlier grabbed his basketball that rolled under his desk and bounced it around him.

“I know you want to play basketball right now, but that’s okay. I’ll just play with Jungwon and his friends.” He informed his friend, turning to look at Jungwon who wasn’t paying attention.

“Yo, Jungwon! Catch this!” He shouted, alerting both of his friends, but him.

He passed the ball, expecting Jungwon—or even Baekseung—to catch the ball, however, there was nothing.

Instead, the loud thud of a ball hitting your head, echoed throughout the classroom. At least, that managed to catch Jungwon’s attention.

Your pen fell out of your hand, landing on the desk. Your ears began to ring as frustration—and a bit of lightheadedness—took over your system.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” The classmate said, making his way over to you with a worried look.

It was only your second day and you were making enemies.

Yet, you couldn’t bother to accept his apology. You looked at him with a facial expression that not even his mom had ever given him. He was terrified.

“Does this classroom look like a circus to you?” You asked as a throbbing pain slowly began to settle in your head.

“Are you so unskilled that you can’t even hold a basketball properly? Actually, are you so childish to the point where you aren’t aware of classroom rules?”

The atmosphere of the classroom vastly shifted. It was quite intense and unsettling.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water stunned by your words. He was speechless, how could he respond to that?

“Please leave me alone, you’d only be a distraction to my studies.” With that said, you returned to your work, acting as if the boy in front of you didn’t exist.

Jungwon’s brows furrowed at the sight, you were being so mean and for what?

The boy shamefully walked back to his seat as all his friends held in their laughs. He was already embarrassed enough, their laughs only adding to the fire.

Forget what Jungwon said about you being heaven-sent, the Devil must’ve sent you instead. He swore if he stared even longer, horns would grow on your head at any given moment.

So, he looked away and continued taking his notes.

“She seems mean,” Baekseung whispered to the two around him. Minji nodded in agreement, mentioning how she got chills from how you stared at the boy.

You proceeded to rub at your temples in an attempt to force away the throbbing migraine coming your way. You couldn’t take a break from studying.

You had to finish reviewing this material before anything at all—not even a meal break was allowed in your Book of Rules.

“What do you guys want to do for lunch?” Baekseung asked, gaining Jungwon and Minji’s attention again.

“I heard they’re going to play Basketball in the gym. You two should play as well!” Minji exclaimed, which only resulted in Jungwon’s head perking up at the sport.

“I’m down,” Jungwon said almost immediately. Baekseung and Minho’s eyebrows rose at his quick decision. It was almost as if he wasn’t studying his butt off while ignoring his two chattery friends a moment ago.

“Are you sure? I thought you had to revise your notes.” Baekseung verbalised his confusion as Jungwon began packing up his belongings.

“I already understand everything. A + B = X times 6–”

“Okay! Okay. No more Math, please.” Baekseung was quick to halt Jungwon’s equation with his index finger. He slowed down his pace when zipping up his backpack, taking in the words Baekseung uttered before.

A smile made its way to the boy’s face at the realisation of his friend's confusion. Baekseung definitely had no clue what they were learning in class.

“Hurry! I don’t want to be late for team decisions.” He exclaimed, hopping off of the desk he sat on.

Jungwon waved off his friend’s pestering and walked out of the classroom, the two trailing behind him.

You, on the other hand, struggled to focus on your work. The whole classroom was quiet and you were the only one left. Everyone had left for lunch, but you.

Yes, you loved quiet, however your migraine didn’t. The accompanied silence only made your migraine throb even more, a faint mic feedback noise to back it up.

Almost like you had a fever.

You placed your pencil down beside your notebook on your desk and stood up from your seat.

A quick stop at the nurse's office wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? It would benefit your studying session and get rid of your pain quite easily.

That was the only exception to your Book of Rules when it came to studying. Nothing else.

Jungwon shot the ball into the hoop, his hair and necktie flowing with his every movement. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, cuffed around the skin above his forearm, helping his gameplay style quite well.

Baekseung smiled at his friend, high-fiving him in the process.

“Nice one! They won’t beat us at this rate.” He said, looking at the scoreboard that read 17-9. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating it like every other time.

Jungwon grinned, his dimples showing faintly. It wasn’t an all-tooth grin, more toothless. His lips were pursed into a thin line and his cheekbones were nearing his under eyes. It was enough to show his appreciation for his friend’s compliment.

His forehead was becoming a slightly sweaty state, causing his previously parted bangs to clump together and loosely stick to the damped skin.

There were 8 more points until the match was done. They didn’t have much time to play 4 full quarters, so they made a bet; first to 25 wins.

Sadly, no rewards could have been won by the players, making this Basketball game more enjoyable than competitive.

Jungwon didn’t have enough time though, he would almost need to return to studying quite soon. Seriously, he couldn’t fall behind someone like you.

“Baek,” Jungwon whispered, hoping it was enough to gain his friend’s attention who stood across from him on the court, but it wasn’t enough at all.

“Baekseung!” Jungwon called while raising his voice a bit over his usual tone. The said boy looked over with widened eyes in shock.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungwon said, fighting back a snicker at his friend’s startled state.

“Well, I have to go now. Tell Min I said bye too.” He said and walked past Baekseung, patting his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye.

As he walked out of the gymnasium doors, he shook his head, causing his hair strands to move around, some still sticking on his forehead.

He stretched his limbs and began revising the lesson from earlier.

The hallways were empty, leaving him with more of a quiet atmosphere to focus on his thoughts.

Jungwon’s lips moved, soft whispers of equations and problems leaving them. If there were other people here, they would give him the dirtiest looks right now. He most definitely looked psychotic.

Luckily, there wasn’t anyone. Yet.

The sound of the door sliding shut caught his attention and he looked up to see where it came from.

The nurse’s office was always a popular spot in their school, so it wasn't a shock that someone was leaving the room at this exact moment.

Surprisingly, it was a shock to him. He never thought you were the type to leave your desk ever.

Your brows furrowed at the sight before you.

A sight of disgust.

Yang Jungwon was the last person you wanted to see with your throbbing migraine. He was all sweaty, his hair glistened from the sweat droplets that stuck onto the strands, his necktie was loose, his uniform was dishevelled, and his face was a light shade of red due to the hotness of the gymnasium.

He looked disgusting.

Jungwon had no clue as to why you were glaring at him. He wasn’t the reason you ended up visiting the nurse’s office, so why were you giving him such a dirty look?

He should be the annoyed one at this exact moment. After all, you were the one who moved to Earl View Academy and ruined his ‘perfect’ life.

He looked back at you with a confused yet irritated expression on his features as the two of you stood in silence.

Jungwon’s eyes looked over your appearance, noticing how your hand was propped against your chest and holding an item he had seen before.

Your eyes followed his gaze and then widened at realisation. Out of reflex, you hid the painkillers behind your back, not wanting to come off as weak towards him.

You couldn’t let him see you as someone who wasn’t that much of a threat to his academic success.

In silence, you turned around, moving the pill bottle to your chest again, and made your way back to the classroom. For some reason, your movements aggravated Jungwon’s previous calm state.

God, he hated you so much. He couldn’t believe he once thought you were pretty—it would be a lie if he said he still didn’t. That didn’t matter though, you could be pretty and still have a snotty attitude.

That was a perfect description for you.

Although you thought you left Jungwon behind in front of the nurse’s office, to your dismay, you didn’t.

There he was, standing at the doorway of your once previous quiet study room—or in other words, your homeform classroom.

You rolled your eyes after noticing him at the doorway and looked back at your notes.

He ignored your response to his presence and took a seat at his desk near the window. Jungwon slipped his hand into his backpack, grabbing his pencil case and notebook in the process.

A tense silence followed the two of you as you flipped your pages in sync and continued writing down more things in sync.

You were pausing more than he was due to the pain in your head which only slowed down your movements even more. Yes, you planned on taking the painkillers, but not when he was around.

Still, you couldn’t hold back. You had to do it or else you wouldn’t be able to study one bit.

Although the painkillers mentioned eating a meal before intaking the pills, you refused to follow the instructions. You had no time to take a break and find something to fill your stomach, especially when you were already falling behind Jungwon’s studying pace.

You reached for your bottle of water off your desk and popped a pill in your mouth, scarfing down water right after.

Jungwon looked up at the sound of pills shaking in a bottle. It was obvious it came from you, you were the only other person in the classroom.

It seemed like the basketball to your head earlier really took a toll on you. He didn’t blame you though, it truly did sound like it hurt.

Except, that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Even if he was in one place all lunch, it seemed like you didn’t leave your seat at all. It was kept the exact same like he last saw it before lunch time.

Luckily, the sound of your stomach growling was enough to answer his unsaid question as he watched your ears turn a shade of red.

As much as you tried to pretend that didn’t happen, you were tremendously embarrassed. Still, you couldn’t eat.

Not yet at least.

“You didn’t hear that.” You mumbled, hoping it was loud enough for Jungwon to catch. He hummed in response while eyeing his work, not paying much attention to your silly incident.

He knew how embarrassing it could have been, so it was best not to engage.

Thankfully, God was on your side, ringing the bell a few seconds after Jungwon had hummed.

Soon after, students began flooding into the classroom and heading to their seats in loud crowds.

Therefore, your quiet time with the last person you wanted to spend it with, had ended.

RANK THREE.

“Jungwon and (Name), please come up and answer the questions on the board.”

Great.

It was only 10:30 AM on a Wednesday, and yet you were already going head-to-head with your rival.

Jungwon confidently made his way to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk from the ledge.

You, on the other hand, paused for a moment after getting up from your seat. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, and that was never a good sign.

However, if you didn’t make it over fast enough, he would for sure beat you in a blink. And so, you did. You rushed over and picked up a chalk stick, then began writing.

It was a simple equation to you, but to everyone else who didn’t understand the lesson, it wasn’t. It was way more complex to them than how it really was.

Jungwon was already halfway through answering the question whilst you haven’t even started. You wrote the given values on the side to keep track of the numbers you would use.

Easy, right?

Not quite.

You couldn’t focus at all even if there were no distractions nor was it loud in your classroom.

The only thing you could hear was the harsh sounds of Jungwon pressing his chalk against the board after he reached a new step.

Your ears became sensitive to any sound, causing you to even take note of the rhythm his piece of chalk followed when gliding against the blackboard. It was irritating you and annoying.

As much as you wanted to stop him from writing, you couldn’t because it was impossible. Your hand wouldn’t move one bit. Your vision became blurry, eyes fluttering shut and opening in a pattern.

“I think I’m going to faint.” You whispered, your words falling deaf on all ears, aside from Jungwon’s.

He didn’t pay much attention to your sentence, brushing it off as a dumb remark about his handwriting or something.

Truthfully, his calligraphy wasn’t the best when it came to using chalk, so you wouldn’t be wrong if you were to say something mean about it. He would only end up agreeing in the end.

Everything stilled for a brief moment before you lost your feeling in your hands, dropping the piece of chalk you held, and falling against the hardwood floor right after.

Gasps were emitted from your classmates—ones you couldn’t even hear—as Jungwon stilled his movements at the loud thud which caused him to flinch slightly.

Jungwon looked down as he still pressed the chalk on the board, his eyes widening and blood draining from his face at the sight.

“(Name)?” Your teacher called, hurriedly making her way towards your unconscious figure. However, there was no response.

“Hey, Jungwon, you were on the track team last year, right?” Ms. Ling asked as he nodded, swallowing and hoping the nauseated feeling in his stomach would disappear.

Spoiler alert—it didn’t.

“Could you run her to the nurse’s office, please?” She asked, leaving the boy with no other choice but to say yes. If he were to say no, he would seem like a villain, and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay.” He mumbled and placed the chalk on the ledge before crouching down, slipping an arm under your legs, and wrapping one around your back for extra support.

To his surprise, you were awfully light. A little too light for an average person. It was quite concerning.

Jungwon shook his head, making all his thoughts disappear in the process. He had no time to waste, he had to get you to the nurse’s office quickly—his teacher’s words, not his.

He slid open the door with his foot, shocked that he even managed to succeed himself, and placed you on an unoccupied bed.

Mrs. Oh, the nurse, emerged from her office with a concerned look after noticing the rush Jungwon was in.

“What’s wrong?” She asked before seeing you who lied unconsciously on the bed.

“She fainted a few moments ago in class.” He explained while running a hand through his hair, followed by a sigh.

“Fainted?” The nurse asked and made her way to your still figure, reaching out to touch your pulse points.

“I don’t think it’s a fatal issue. Just hang around for a bit, I’ll run some short tests then you can tell your teacher why she fainted.” Mrs. Oh said as Jungwon nodded.

He could just ask for the notes from Minji after class.

A few moments later, Mrs. Oh returned with a clipboard in her hand and a concerned look on her face.

“Is it bad?” Jungwon asked, slightly worried about her response.

“Oh, no.” Mrs. Oh said, reassuring the boy, then opened her mouth to say something else.

“Thing is, she hasn’t eaten for the last two days.”

What?

RANK FOUR.

Jungwon walked down the hallways of the school, heading to the vending machine nearby. Mrs. Oh’s words replayed in his head many times. It had been a day since your visit to the nurse’s office, but he was still hooked on Mrs. Oh’s discovery.

He didn’t know why he cared that you hadn’t eaten for two days. That was your problem not his.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite worried about your health. How the hell were you still at his level of academic achievements even if you weren’t eating to fuel your brain?

It was crazy. Not even he could survive an hour without a small snack to keep him going. So, how did you even manage to survive?

More of Mrs. Oh’s words flooded through Jungwon’s head, mainly focusing on the fact she put him in charge of making sure you were eating.

Was it not obvious you two hated each other? Well, maybe not since you were fast asleep, but to him it was.

What the hell was he supposed to do to monitor your food intake? Buy you snacks and drinks from the vending machines at their school?

Actually… that wasn’t such a bad idea. It could work for him, but would it work for you? Would you even accept his offers?

You were hard to work with in the first place. There was no way he would follow upon Mrs. Oh’s request. That was your problem and only yours. Not his.

Nevertheless, that didn’t explain the fact he was currently punching in the number two into the vending machine, expecting two granola bars to follow through the hole.

Of course, it wouldn’t be enough to fill him up this lunch, but he had no other choice. He was already exhausted enough from playing football outdoors, leaving him with no more energy to wait in line for food in the cafeteria.

He grabbed the granola bars and made his way to room 116—his home room.

He was excited for the peace and quiet he was about to experience. Nobody ever came to school this early. It was 7:30 AM after all.

School started at 8:20 AM.

If you were to show up at the bell, he could save the granola bar until lunch and give it to you when the room was empty.

Nobody could know that he was interacting with you, especially not after you two made it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other.

“Oh, hey, Jungwon! It’s been quite a bit since I saw you first thing in the morning.” A faculty member said, greeting the boy. He smiled at the teacher and nodded.

It wasn’t a lie. Jungwon always came early, yes, but he never went straight to class. He was either shooting hoops in the gym or doing his morning jog around the track in the field.

The September breeze blew the trees outside as Jungwon watched the leaves sway while walking to class. The windows in the hallways were wide, emitting a bright light into Earl View Academy.

It really suited the vibe he was going for.

But you didn’t.

Jungwon noticed your focused figure, his mood dropping immediately. He was glad you were okay, but not glad that you were in class.

He wanted alone time today, nothing else.

Jungwon put on a straight face, avoiding eye contact with you while walking to his seat. He swiftly placed the granola bar on your desk and moved away as if he didn’t.

You looked down at the granola bar, then to the boy who walked away in silence.

Before you could say anything, he was quick to silence your ‘irritating’ voice.

“Just eat it. Mrs. Oh is making me monitor your meals even if I don’t want to.”

He said without any other explanation. You looked back at the granola bar, hearing Jungwon sit down and begin opening his snack due to the loud rustling of the wrapper.

Instead of doing the same, you pushed the granola bar to the side and returned back to your studies. Once again, your ‘Book of Rules’ said no meals until you were done reviewing.

Jungwon opened his notebook, flipping through the filled pages to find an empty one and begin his studying. He was holding the granola bar in one hand and eating at the same time.

It wasn’t hard at all, which only confused him since you weren’t doing the same.

“Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, but you ignored him, staring into your notebook in silence.

The boy scoffed, looking out the window in disbelief. He doesn’t even know why Mrs. Oh trusted him with this ‘task’. He couldn’t say no though, he would have felt guilty to face her again.

Honestly, he was still shocked at the news from yesterday. What did she mean you didn’t eat for 2 days?

Was this an often routine of yours? Was that why you were so concerningly light when he carried you? You were always studying and never seemed like you took any breaks, which only left him wondering.

Seriously, did you ever eat?

“What?” You asked, stiffening and turning around to look at the bow. There was a look of annoyance present on your face, only causing Jungwon to stare back in confusion.

“What?” He questioned back. Why were you looking at him like that even after you blatantly ignored him a moment ago?

“Why is it your business if I ever eat or not?”

Hold on. Did Jungwon think aloud earlier? Was that why you were acting this way?

“I…” He said, fumbling over his words. Truly, how should he respond to that? You weren’t wrong about it not being his business to care—even if you didn’t say that.

He didn’t want to care if you did or not. Still, he couldn’t explain why he was so curious about it.

“Mrs. Oh told me in the nurse’s office that you fainted because your last meal was two days ago…” Jungwon began as your brows furrowed.

“So? Why should you care if that were to happen or not?” You asked.

Once again, you weren’t wrong.

“You’re telling me, you wouldn’t be a little bit concerned about someone who hadn’t eaten for 2 days?”

“If it was part of my business, sure, but if it’s not, then no.”

Jungwon pursed his lips, unsure of what to say next. He tried to think of it, but it ended up coming out on his own. He would definitely regret this later.

“Why?” He started.

“Why do you do that?”

You remained silent and so did he. There was an obvious tension in the air and the both of you felt it easily.

You averted your eyes away from his overpowering gaze, suddenly feeling all fragile due to his sudden question.

“Mind your own business.” You mumbled before turning around to face your desk again.

Normally, you’d return to studying immediately, but this time you were quiet as you stared at your notebook.

You always had answers for questions. Always. However, nobody had ever asked you a question like that, and for some reason, you couldn’t find an answer for it.

Jungwon sighed and shook his head. He didn’t blame you for not answering and getting all defensive instead. It was a question that could pry into anyone’s private life, and obviously, you two were nowhere near a basis like that.

“At least eat the granola bar. I don’t want Mrs. Oh on my ass about anything.” He said before picking up his pencil and writing on his plain notebook.

At the sound of his words, your gaze shifted to the pink wrapper on the granola, noticing how it was strawberry flavoured, one of your favourites.

Maybe you could reconsider eating the snack he got you even if it was going against your rules. It was obvious he wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t.

You unwrapped the granola bar, making sure to not crush the treat inside as the bell went so suddenly.

You were both shocked at how much time went past at such a fast pace as a certain thought crossed your mind.

It was time to start another school day.

RANK FIVE.

Ever since that day, Jungwon continuously dropped you off snacks in a discreet manner.

Although you never wanted to eat them, he made you. Your secret rule was slowly being forgotten because of his actions.

“Hey,” he called from his window seat, causing you to remove an earbud from your ear.

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“Why?”

Jungwon stared at you in silence. Were you really asking him that question?

“So I don’t get you anything that’ll kill you…” He said in a tone of disbelief, but you didn’t react.

“Why are you still doing this? Mrs. Oh must’ve forgotten about my visit by now. You can stop.”

You turned away and continued writing in your notebook, leaving Jungwon baffled.

He hated how you were never wrong. Mrs. Oh definitely forgot about your visit from a few weeks ago, but Jungwon couldn’t stop his habit of giving you snacks.

Why?

“You’re telling me you rather faint continuously?” Jungwon asked, halting the hand that went to put your earbud in your ear.

“That’s not a healthy habit. Seriously, you’re going to end up visiting the ER next.”

“As if that hasn’t happened before.” You mumbled and successfully put your earbud in your ear.

Jungwon’s face contorted in confusion, unsure of what you had said. It didn’t seem like the remark he expected, but he shrugged it off.

Whatever.

“Jungwon!” Baekseung exclaimed, running up to the boy and hugging him from behind.

Jungwon stumbled over his feet at the sudden embrace as Minji chuckled from behind the two.

“You’re acting like you haven’t seen him in a decade.” She said, crossing her arms once she reached them.

The hallway they stood in was empty—aside from the 3 being there.

Jungwon wasn’t even aware that he was in the hallway at the moment. His mind was elsewhere when he left the classroom.

Yes, he said he didn’t care about what you said, but he secretly did.

Did he hit a nerve or did he hit one of your soft spots? For the last few weeks, it was obvious there was a lot to you that nobody knew of, yet, Jungwon was close to finding them out.

He felt bad due to your reaction from earlier and a few days ago. Maybe he should really watch what he says from now on.

“What’s up? Do you have your head up in the clouds or something?” Baekseung asked, teasingly.

Jungwon shook out of his thoughts and looked at the boy.

“That was terrible. Never say that again.” He said, causing Baekseung to frown and Minji to laugh.

“Still, he’s right. What’s up with you lately?” Minji asked.

The three walked down the hallways, passing time before their next period started.

“What do you mean what’s up with me?” He asked, confused at their questions.

“You’re constantly spacing out today. Plus, you’re never running or playing basketball outside in the mornings either. I haven’t seen you for a bit every time I arrive at school.” Baekseung explained.

“Dude!” He exclaimed, tapping Jungwon’s shoulder to bring him back from his trance.

Jungwon looked over at Baekseung, startled from the harsh tap.

“What was that for?!” He exclaimed.

“You were doing it again. Seriously, what’s up with you?”

The three remained silent upon Baekseung’s question; Minji and Baekseung waited for Jungwon’s response while he thought of one.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Is it her?” Minji asked, chiming into Jungwon’s thoughts.

“Your rival.” She added after seeing Jungwon’s confused face.

He didn’t reply to her question, instead he stayed quieter than ever. Not a peep came out of his mouth. They were almost sure he stopped breathing too.

“So it is! I knew it. Pay up, Baekseung.” Minji said with a bright smile on her face while holding her hand out in front of Baekseung.

Baekseung frowned, glaring at Jungwon as he reached into his pocket for the 10 dollar bill he promised Minji. She looked at the buck, facing the light in case it was fake.

“It’s not fake!” He exclaimed as she chuckled.

“You never know.” Minji said and slipped the $10 into her pocket.

“Wait, you guys placed a bet on me?” Jungwon asked in disbelief.

“Well, yeah. I bet that you liked (Name) and Baekseung said you were just hooked on your university applications.” Minji said, leaning closer to Jungwon.

“He knows nothing about love.”

“I do!” Baekseung blurted, embarrassed at Minji’s remark. She looked over at her and shushed him with a finger on his lip.

“No, you don’t. Just accept that.”

Jungwon shook his head, still shocked at what his friends managed to do. Why would he even be hooked on his university applications if he was 100 percent sure he’d get accepted?

Plus, liking you was definitely out of his range. Wait, liking you?

“I don’t like her! What made you ever think that?!” He exclaimed, his hands flying up in defence.

“Yes. Yes, you do. Don’t fear it, Jungwon.”

Minji looked over at the boy with a teasing smile. Jungwon was a little terrified at the look Minji gave him with her finger still over Baekseung’s lips.

She truly seemed psychotic.

He began speed walking away from the two with hopes that he could escape the so-called assumptions. How would Minji know he liked you before he even knew himself?

Pfft, she was completely wrong.

Jungwon looked at the board, writing his last bits of notes with small diagrams to go along with them.

He was starving, but luckily, lunch was soon.

Speaking of lunch, he wondered what snack he should bring you today. You refused to tell him what you were allergic to, so he couldn’t just get you anything.

He looked up from his notebook, stealing a glance at your seat.

Well, he thought it was your seat, but instead, there was someone slouched over the desk instead.

He continued looking around for you, maybe you switched seats without him knowing?

No, that couldn’t be it. He saw you in the same seat this morning before classes. So, was it really you who was slouched over the desk?

That was surprising. You were always the one to be over the top when it came to education, yet, here you were knocked out mid-lesson.

“For homework, please complete pages 4 and 6. Enjoy your day everyone!” The teacher said while closing their lesson planner and leaving the classroom.

The bell sounded, signalling that lunch had begun while Baekseung and Minji took that as a chance to bother their friend, Jungwon.

“Hey!” Baekseung cheered, sitting down on the window sill like always.

Jungwon looked up at the boy with a smile as Minji turned around in her seat.

“Seems like you don’t have much of a competition anymore.” She said, silently hinting at the girl who was fast asleep—you.

Not even the bell woke you up. You must’ve had a rough night then.

Even if it had been 5 seconds since Minji spoke, Jungwon’s eyes never left you. He was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

“Baekseung, didn’t you say you wanted to go to the fast food restaurant nearby for lunch today?” Minji asked, looking up at the boy who stared back in confusion.

“What—”

Minji silenced him with a light slap on his leg, sending him a glare and mouthed the words ‘play along.’

“Oh, yeah! I’ve been craving a burger all day.” Baekseung blurted while nonchalantly rubbing on his leg and dragging out the word ‘all.’

“Jungwon, did you want anything from the fast food restaurant?” Minji asked and looked at him.

But he was still stuck in his trance.

“We’ll get him fries.” She whispered to the boy on the window sill. The two left as quietly as they could, leaving you and Jungwon alone in the classroom.

He observed your silent state, watching how your back raised softly as you breathed. The sunlight from the windows shined on your face, making your eyelashes more visible than others.

You looked so peaceful and so relaxed. It was the first time he had ever seen you this calm and not stuffing your head in your notebooks, rubbing at your temples in a stressful way, harshly sighing and placing your pencil down when you were feeling tired or didn’t understand the formula. It was a great sight.

Jungwon was so focused on you that he didn't notice the smile on his face.

He was smiling because of his arch nemesis. Well, could he even call you his arch nemesis if he cared about you so much?

Probably not.

The vending machine beeped as the four items hit the bottom of it. Jungwon reached down to grab the items and made his way back to class.

Was he out of his mind for still getting you snacks? Possibly. But he couldn’t stop himself, it became a habit of his.

At least you never wasted the snacks he got you. There was one point of the day where you would eat them casually, not even paying much attention to the item in your hold. It became a habit of yours too.

Eventually, the rule became forgotten, but only at school. It still affected you at home.

You woke up in a panic. The classroom you sat in was empty, just like your notebook. The one you significantly chose for the subject.

You looked around, eyes squinting at the bright light from the uncovered windows, taking in the fact nobody—not even Jungwon—was with you.

Great. You were so behind—something you hated.

You panicked, looking at the board to only be met with erase marks of today’s lesson. There was no way you could scavenge with something so little.

Out of habit, you looked down at your desk and rubbed at your temples with your fingers, more stressed out than ever.

You couldn’t fall behind nor could you fail. That was your worst nightmare. Did your parents care if you were to fail a class or fall behind? Not at all. They only cared about you and your health, yet you hated that.

Honestly, growing up, you tended to be naturally good at the things you did. Your parents were, of course, super proud of you, but you didn’t think it was enough.

You never thought anything was enough.

So, studying continuously, fainting continuously, and even starving yourself continuously became a natural routine of yours just to seek academic validation.

If you weren’t at the top of your class or your studies, you weren’t sure how your future would turn out. You would probably end up lower than ever.

No wonder you were so frustrated with yourself. How could you slack off, let alone fall asleep all class? That was so not like you.

You were very disappointed.

The feeling of a sudden coldness on your arm made you jolt. You looked up, wondering where it came from, only to notice the boy who stood before you, Yang Jungwon.

You both looked into each other’s eyes—for the first time, you weren’t glaring. Your vision was quite blurry because of the tears that threatened to fall while he could see you perfectly fine.

He nonchalantly placed the beverage on your desk followed by the poptart. He then made his way to his seat and sat down silently.

You stared at the two items on your desk, holding back your tears. There was nothing about the bottled coffee or the poptart that made you emotional, it was yourself and Jungwon.

You were jealous of him.

The more you attended Earl View Academy, the more you noticed how everyone adored the boy. Everyone, including staff members.

He made friends quite easily and got along with anyone possible.

However, you were the complete opposite. You had your own circle which consisted entirely of yourself and your studying materials, nothing else.

You rarely conversed with anyone, but when you did, it was always harsh. Things easily ticked you off, causing you to confront the so-called things pretty quickly.

Due to this, you were never envisioned as someone who was approachable. Even if you were on top of your studies and understood everything going on, not even many teachers took a liking to you.

It was rare to see one that did.

There were a few times where you tried to maintain certain friendships, but they all ended quite fast. Their reasonings were always the same—you never had time to hang out with them, but you always had time to study.

They eventually fell tired of you and left you behind to befriend someone else. They always regretted even trying something with you because it always turned out to be a ‘waste of their time.’

Jungwon placed his opened notebook on your desk so you could copy down the notes he took in class.

“The homework is page 4 and 6 today. If you don’t understand anything, I could explain it to you if you want.” He said before walking back to his seat.

He shouldn’t be this helpful to you. You two were ‘rivals’ after all—something you both silently yet mutually agreed on. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself. Even the sight of your tear filled eyes managed to make him feel a bit hurt.

He probably wasn’t even the cause of it, yet he felt like he was.

“How do you do it?” You asked, catching him off guard. He looked up from his phone and at the back of your head because you refused to face him in such a vulnerable state.

“Do what? Oh, the work? Hold on, let me—”

“Not that.” You said, interrupting him as he halted in his tracks.

“…Then what?” He asked hesitantly. He genuinely had no clue what you meant. Either Jungwon couldn’t read between the lines, or he was just too stupid.

“How do I be like you?”

RANK SIX.

Jungwon stood in silence, stunned at your sudden question. He was never asked such a thing from someone like you.

Children were always the one to ask him that exact question, which only left him with one possible answer every time.

“You’re already like me. Smart and strong.”

It was very cringey, but every child felt confident after hearing his words. Still, you were nowhere near a child, so how could he respond to your question?

“What do you mean?” Was all he could think of. He didn’t want you to seem weak or anything, so he kept it simple and short.

Maybe an elaboration would help him with an answer next time.

“You’re so… perfect. All staff members and students adore you, or even look up to you. You always balance your time, making enough space to hangout with your friends and study at the same time. You’re athletic, smart, most likely a great son, and your parents are probably so proud of you for maintaining the top student rank continuously.” You ranted, leaving him flattered and quite flustered but confused at the same time.

“Perfect?” He asked, genuinely curious about what made you think that.

“Yes, you’re so perfect. I’m jealous of you.” You added, finishing off your sentence while turning to face him.

“You’re jealous of me?”

Truly, in Jungwon’s eyes there was nothing about him to be jealous of. He had his own ups and downs, but managed to keep his composure around his friends and many others.

“Honestly, (Name), you’re fine the way you are. Yes, you have some unhealthy habits, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change.” Jungwon said while walking towards the seat in front of you.

“I wouldn’t say I’m perfect either. Of course, I’m going to sound a bit cringey, but all of us have things we don’t show. Like, I could’ve cried on my way to class.”

“Did you?”

“Did I do what?” Jungwon asked while taking a seat.

“Oh. No, that was just an example. I would never cry where people could see or hear.”

His eyes slightly widened as he raised his hands up in defence.

“I didn’t mean you shouldn’t! Do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He said, hoping he didn’t offend you.

You used your sleeves to wipe away the few tears that managed to fall, then looked at the boy in front of you.

“I don’t know why I’m about to tell you this, but I really need to get it off my chest.”

“Go on,” Jungwon said in a soft voice.

Although he waited for you to speak, you hesitated. Could you even trust him? You two started off as rivals, and still were rivals, but didn’t show it as much.

Whatever, speaking your mind wouldn’t hurt.

“Honestly, it’s not that I need to be on top of my work for my parents to adore me, they do. They very much do and show it every day, but it’s me who thinks it is not enough.” You said.

“I believe if I’m distracted, I won’t be able to achieve my academic goals to the fullest, you know?”

Jungwon nodded even if he didn’t get what you meant. He understood achieving your academic goals, but not to the point where he couldn’t do so if he were distracted.

“I mean, yeah, but considering eating meals or taking breaks as a distraction isn’t good for your mental health—or your health in general,” Jungwon explained as your eyes narrowed.

“Are you scolding me right now?”

“Quite literally.”

You rolled your eyes at Jungwon’s words, waving them off as if they meant nothing.

“Pretend this didn’t happen. Tell anyone, and I’ll make sure your life in Earl View Academy is almost unbearable.” You threatened, sending daggers at the boy.

“How so?” He asked, curious as to what tricks you could pull.

“I’ll beat you on every test, I’ll beat you on the final exam, and even make sure you don’t get accepted into University of Seoul.”

“Okay… However, in return, you have to at the very least tell me what you’re allergic to.” Jungwon said with pleading eyes.

You were shocked that was all he wanted in return. He really wanted to know what you were allergic to, but why? What good would that bring him if he knew what you could and couldn’t eat?

“Why are you so curious about that?”

“Dude, you really want me to end up killing you?” His words sounded like he was joking, but he wasn’t.

“No… I could just eat what I know I can and what I know I can’t.”

Jungwon continued to stare at you, waiting for you to give him the actual answer he wanted. You sighed and gave into his silent begs.

“There’s nothing.”

He remained quiet, his head tilting like a lost cat.

“There’s nothing that I’m allergic to. I’ll eat anything.” You informed the boy as he held back a smile.

“Perfect.” He whispered before grabbing the notebook he gave you earlier.

“What do you mean by perfect?” You asked, causing Jungwon to glance at you with a slight smile on his lips.

“You’ll see.”

RANK SEVEN.

To be honest, yesterday you went home wondering what Jungwon was hinting at.

He pretended as if he had never brought up anything and proceeded to teach you today’s materials. It was annoying.

Yes, you wanted to know badly, but begging wouldn’t even get him to tell you anything.

You adjusted your name tag while looking in the mirror, wondering what else you should fix up.

There was 5 minutes before you had to leave for school. Five minutes before you would get to see Jungwon.

You had no clue why you were a bit excited to see him. Usually, you never were. It was weird.

Part of you was glad he listened to what you had to say yesterday, it felt nice to get it off your chest. However, the other part of you felt ecstatic and let your heart thump even at the thought of seeing the boy.

What happened to the part of you that deeply hated him?

You couldn’t start liking Jungwon. At least, not when there was a possibility that he still hated you or saw you like his competition.

Right?

Jungwon stretched his limbs before reaching down to tie his laces. It had been a while since he ran around the track in the morning. He wanted to see if he still had it in him.

He couldn’t let his stamina fall because of his so-called continuous studying habits. It was also a great way to get his mind off of things, for example, you.

After yesterday’s conversation, for some reason he felt terrible about what you said. Was it his fault? No. But obviously, there was a time and place where he was in the same boat as you.

Trust him, it wasn’t the best.

This morning, he woke up extra earlier than usual because he had a lot to do—cook. He hand picked a recipe he believed you both would enjoy, and cooked all morning so it was nice and fresh by lunch.

It was way better than constantly getting snacks from the vending machine. Now, you could actually gain nutrients while eating.

He was very excited.

But why? Why was he excited to share a meal with you? There wasn’t anything going on between, aside from your quiet studying times halfway through lunch, the conversation from yesterday, and the times you two have been paired up or went head-to-head in class.

Other than that, what was there to really be excited about?

Jungwon slowed down his pace, then leaned over while placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Or was he just excited to see you? What was the meaning of all this?

Were you the reason his heart raced as if he did his morning runs whenever he was in class? Were you the reason he was always planning what he wanted to buy the two of you on his way to school? He rarely ever did that when you didn’t attend Earl View Academy.

So, were you really the reason?

You took a seat at your desk, pulling out your studying equipment—a normal routine of yours. You always arrived at the same time, 7:30 AM, with Jungwon arriving a little after.

Shockingly, even with 5 minutes passing, he didn’t appear. That was odd, he was always on time.

You shook your head, brushing off the fact he hadn’t arrived yet. The things he taught you yesterday were the only materials you had to review this morning.

You couldn’t fall behind so easily.

When you went home, you decided to take a break. A was a rare sight since you were always studying all night and all morning, nobody could stop you.

But for some reason, Jungwon was able to change part of your ‘unhealthy’ studying habits. At your old school, it was impossible for that to happen. Not even your short-term friendships changed anything.

It was the same old ‘Book of Rules’ you followed with no updates.

The door slid open, showcasing an exhausted Jungwon. He walked over to the seat in front of you and placed the two snacks in an empty spot on your desk then took a seat.

It wasn’t at his actual desk, instead, it was the one in front of you.

“Why do you seem so tired?” You asked, noticing his droopy eyes.

“I ran around the track today. It’s been a while since I’ve done it, so I guess I pushed my limits.” He explained while yawning. He stretched his arms before examining your desk; there was a partially empty space at the edge of your desk.

It looked like it could fit most of his arms and head.

“Can I?” He questioned while gesturing at the spot from earlier. You nodded, not giving him any other reaction.

Your heart was already racing from the ‘close’ proximity he provided. You had to keep it lowkey.

“Thanks. Wake me up a few minutes before the bell.” He said and dozed off to dreamland.

The classroom fell silent, the only thing being heard was the rustling leaves from the wind that travelled through the sky, your pencil gliding on the piece of paper you wrote on, sounding like music to Jungwon’s ears.

It was a relaxing sound. Not even close to irritating.

There were moments where you snuck in a few glances, noticing the way his face looked peaceful and less irritating than when he was wide awake. His breathing was at a usual pace as his back rose and fell at his command.

He was quite the pretty sleeper.

The formula of your work suddenly started to not make any sense. You searched the article you were looking at, realisation only hitting you a bit after.

You were working on your English, not Math. No wonder your formulas weren’t making any sense. Clearly, with how close Jungwon was to you, it was obvious you couldn’t think straight.

How often did someone mix up English work with Mathematics? It was never that often, and yet, you still managed to make the mistake.

You picked up your highlighter, forgetting about the embarrassing situation from earlier, and began highlighting simple concepts that you would need to remember when answering the questions.

Without you knowing, 30 minutes of silence passed between the two of you. You were surprised he didn’t wake up from the sound of your beating heart, because to you, it was quite loud.

You hesitated on waking up the boy in front of you. He was sound asleep. What if he woke up cranky?

Still, he requested for you to wake him up a few minutes before the bell. He wouldn’t be mad if you did so, right?

You softly placed your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him at a slow pace. There wasn’t much momentum, however, it was still enough to wake him up.

His eyes slowly opened, eyeing the area he sat in.

He could barely see, eyes still blurred with his sleepiness. Jungwon blinked a few times before looking in front of him, spotting your shocked figure.

“Morning.” He mumbled, his words cutting short because of a yawn. He stretched his arms before looking over at the clock.

It was only 8:20 AM. It always shocked you how students weren’t filling up the classroom around this time. They always arrived at least 5 minutes before the bell. Even if it was shocking, it was quite satisfying how everyone was still on time.

“What’re you working on?” Jungwon asked, slightly curious about the reason you held a highlighter.

“English,” you muttered. He hummed at your words and continued to inspect your desk.

“You didn’t eat?” He asked, pointing at the neatly kept snacks. It looked the same as when he first gave you them.

You shook your head. You completely forgot about the snacks. Instead, you were more focused on calming your racing heart, so it wouldn’t have woken him up.

“Eat. At least three pieces before the lesson starts.” He said. The snacks he brought the both of you were a small packet of animal crackers. One of Jungwon’s favourites as a child.

You paused for a moment, debating if you should follow through with his request. He was staring at you, once again, causing you to feel fragile under his gaze. There was no way he would stop if you didn’t eat.

You placed your highlighter down and grabbed one of the two packets. Hopefully, that would help his strong state.

Honestly, you couldn’t help but feel taken care of because of Jungwon’s acts. Your parents were amazing to you. There was no doubt about it. Still, with Jungwon, there was a new feeling you’ve never felt with anyone else.

At your old school, you wouldn’t even have a chance at something like this. If you fainted, there was only a tiny bit of shock from others. It happened very often because of your bad habits that it became so natural to those who studied and worked there.

But if you were to faint around Jungwon or anyone else in this school, they would be very worried. The nurse at Earl View Academy even instructed Jungwon to watch over your eating habits.

At first, you didn’t like the idea of having a so-called babysitter, but eventually it felt nice to know someone possibly cared about you. He started off as your number one threat, and became the person you looked forward to seeing most.

To him, you started off as someone he could never trust and his one and only arch nemesis, and became the person he watched over and enjoyed being around.

Well, look how the tables turned.

“Also,” Jungwon said, chiming into your thoughts. Your attention was then focused onto the boy who stood up from his previous seat with his animal crackers in hold.

“You’re doing great.” He said as the bell rang as if it were completing his sentence.

He sat in his assigned seat at the window while students began filling up the classroom. Maybe they were a little delayed today, but your heart for sure wasn’t.

You were concerned as to why Jungwon’s words had such an effect on your wellbeing, judging from how fast your heart rate was going.

You didn’t even know it was possible to experience such a rush of adrenaline. Your face felt warm as you recalled his words.

Was he perhaps referring to yesterday’s incident?

No matter what the reason was, you’ve never been told something like that. It was always about taking a break and slowing your pace. Even mentioning how you were trying too hard and needed to pay more attention to yourself.

But the words ‘you’re doing great’ were different. It felt like they were filling a void in your life that you didn’t even know existed.

Whatever it was, you were thankful.

Thankful for Jungwon.

Jungwon watched as the ball ricocheted off the rim of the net, sighing in disappointment.

“Gosh, straighten up.” Baekseung said and tossed the ball back to his friend.

The trio stood inside the empty gymnasium, shooting hoops for fun, until it became serious. Baekseung was quite literally concerned for Jungwon’s wellbeing.

He was missing every one of his shots.

“You do remember he did Track and not Basketball like you, Baek, right?” Minji asked while flipping through the pages of her book.

“I mean, yeah, but he’s never this bad.” Baekseung replied, emphasising his words.

“I’m literally right here.”

“Oh, my bad.”

Minji chuckled at the two, looking away at her book while placing a bookmark between the two pages she stopped on.

“Won, what’s on your mind?” She asked.

Great, here comes round two.

“I swear we didn’t put a bet on anything this time. Feel free to tell us anything.”

Jungwon sighed, letting himself loose. It was now or never. He needed to settle things, so he could peacefully continue along with his day.

So…

“How would you confirm your feelings for someone?”

RANK EIGHT.

Minji blinked her eyes in silence as Baekseung held the basketball in his hand with a dropped jaw.

Judging by their reactions, it was obvious they didn’t know what to say, leaving Jungwon feeling embarrassed.

“Nevermind, forget I said that.”

“No, no.” Minji said, shaking her head.

“We were just… stunned, that’s all.” She reassured Jungwon who’s ears turned a light shade of red out of embarrassment.

“Is this about a particular someone?” Minji questioned, slightly wanting it to be you.

She had been noticing the difference between Jungwon’s behaviour now and the first time you arrived. Nowadays, he was always looking at you with adoration in his eyes instead of an intense glare.

It was definitely different between you two.

“You know who it is, don’t you?” Jungwon asked, judging by her expression. It looked like she was holding off on saying something. She was terrible at hiding her expressions.

“Wait, I’m so confused,” Baekseung chimed in, dropping the basketball and making his way closer to the two.

“It’s (Name), right? The atmosphere between you two is so much different than before.”

Jungwon remained quiet upon Minji’s words. She wasn’t wrong, but she was very observant. Even Jungwon hadn’t noticed the change between you and him.

“Your silence is the only answer we need.” Baekseung said with a sly smile.

What? Who wouldn’t act the same way after finding out his best friend had a crush on someone?

“It is…” Jungwon mumbled.

“Okay. First question is… how do you feel when you’re near her?”

Oh.

Well, that could go a long way… There was at least a list of possible feelings, so where should he even start?

“Tingly. I feel tingly.” He said, recalling the moments he was with you.

To be honest, he was shocked you hadn’t realised how red the tip of his ears were when he fell asleep in front of you. It was almost an impossible process for him to sleep, but he managed.

“Sometimes, my ears become warm and my heart flutters at the sight of her smile or if I were to make her laugh…” He paused, thinking of more things to say.

“And—”

“Yeah, you definitely like her.” Baekseung interrupted with a shock yet disgusted look on his face.

“I do?” Jungwon asked, looking at the boy with wide eyes.

Baekseung nodded, causing him to look over at Minji who only did the same as Baekseung in return.

“Are you ever going to tell her?” Minji asked, opening up her book once again.

“I’d embarrass myself terribly. We’re still kinda rivals in some way. Wouldn’t it be weird if I were to suddenly confess my attraction to her?”

“Okay, Shakespeare, what the hell do you mean by attraction?” Baekseung asked as Minji chuckled.

“He means feelings, Baek.”

“Oh… That makes sense. I say do it, what is there to waste? You only live once.” He explained as Jungwon rolled his eyes.

It was a corny saying he had been told all his life, but they were never wrong. Things always turned out good for him if he at least tried them. Therefore, it wouldn’t hurt to profess his love for you, right?

“Jungwon, it’s 11:30, don’t you have to go now?” Minji questioned after checking the time on her phone.

“Ah, right. Thanks Min, thanks Baek.” He said before smiling at them and leaving.

To be honest, Jungwon was expecting a longer explanation to his feelings, but comparing these moments to a book, it was awfully obvious that he liked you. It must’ve flown past his head the first time.

You stared at the clock, awaiting Jungwon’s arrival. This was the first time you had caught yourself doing something like this. Usually, your head would be stuffed in your notebook right now, but after discovering these possible feelings for the boy you spend lunch with daily, things have changed.

Your habits must’ve been one of them.

There were moments where you glanced at the door, hoping that he would appear after every glance, but he didn’t.

“Sorry.” A voice emitted from the doorway, heavy panting followed through. Your head whipped over, noticing the boy you were waiting for all this time. He looked up from the floor, making straight eye contact with you.

He was subtly sweaty, making it obvious that he ran here. Yes, it was a disgusting look, but to you…

He looked disgustingly handsome. It was odd, very odd, that the look made your heartbeat race. You couldn’t deny it, you definitely liked Jungwon.

“You’re late.” You said in a teasing tone. You could care less if he was late or not, but it was fun to joke around with him.

“I’m aware.” Jungwon joked back while walking towards his seat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked while reaching into his backpack. You stayed silent, not sure how to answer that question.

“Be honest.” He said in a serious tone and grabbed the meal he cooked this morning.

“A little bit.” You replied as he took a seat in front of you. You eyed the containers he placed on the empty space, causing you to move your notebooks aside to create more.

He opened the containers one-by-one, leaving you stunned with every single meal. Once he was left with one container, he looked up to see your reaction, smiling at your childish look.

“Does it look good?”

His question brought you out of your trance, causing you to straighten up immediately.

“Yes. It looks great.” You said as Jungwon chuckled at your response. You observed the 3 containers, noticing the different aspects of each; one had greens while the others didn’t.

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you liked greens, so I separated them just in case.” He explained while pointing at the container you stared at.

You nodded at his words and hummed in amusement. Maybe you were only a tad bit hungry before, but now, you were starving.

“You don’t have to wait for me, you can eat.” Jungwon said, gesturing at the meal in front of you two.

You looked at him once then down at the utensils, hesitantly reaching for a spoon. Jungwon picked up on this and grabbed your hand, flipping it over while grabbing the spoon that laid on the napkin. He then placed it into the palm of your hand and looked into your eyes.

“Don’t hesitate, it’s fine.” Jungwon said and flashed you a smile, his dimples catching your eyes immediately.

Well, maybe you weren’t hesitating on eating anymore, but you were definitely still hesitant about something…

Confessing your feelings to the boy before you.

Yeah, that could wait.

RANK NINE.

Two days ago, Jungwon had a talk with his two friends. He was reassured about his feelings for you, finalising them to a certain extent.

Today, he claimed he was ready to confess. He wouldn’t back away from doing so, and plus, there ‘wasn’t’ much time until graduation (it was 7 months away).

Of course, it was a lie. He had to make an excuse to be able to push himself to tell you how he really felt.

You, on the other hand, thought the same. But, you weren’t sure how you would approach him in a way where it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagined.

Still, that would have to wait for the perfect time today. You couldn’t mess this up.

As your teacher spoke, your head became drowsy. Your notes seemed messy due to your eyesight blurring and nothing was comprehendible.

You shook your head, an attempt to regain your composure, but that didn’t work either.

“Okay, everyone. I’ll leave the rest of this period for individual work time.” Your teacher said even if there was only 5 minutes before lunch.

“Soccer today?” Baekseung asked Jungwon who wrote in his notebook.

He nodded at his friend’s request, causing the boy to smile. It had been a while since they went to play soccer and not basketball, so it would be quite fun to reminisce about the past.

The bell went, making 5 minutes feel like 30 seconds. To others it must’ve felt long, but to you, it felt short. You couldn’t focus on anything around you, not even the time. The throbbing headache that made its way into your system, as well as the nauseating feeling was all that occupied your mind.

Nothing else.

Not even the fact Jungwon was standing beside you right now.

“You alright?” He asked. You looked up at him, your head spinning at the movement. It was quiet in the classroom, hinting at the fact there was practically nobody left aside from the two of you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lies. You were far from feeling ‘fine’. However, you couldn’t let him worry as much as he did about your eating habits.

You managed to flash him a convincing smile as he did the same. The gentle pat on your head before leaving felt comforting knowing it was from Jungwon and no one else.

“I’ll be back.” He said as he walked out the classroom, leaving you alone in silence.

You weren’t able to tell if the heat that crept up your neck was from his subtle action, or the developing fever that made its way towards you. Honestly, you could care less. It wouldn’t stop you from studying anyway.

And, well, maybe preparing your confession for the said boy.

The mesh of the net ricocheted as the ball glided against the barrier. The goalie was on the floor, the outcome of his failed attempt at blocking the ball.

“It’s okay! That was a good try.” A teammate reassured while helping the male up on his feet.

Once the ball was thrown into play, Baekseung scanned the area, searching for an open target to send the ball to. Teamwork was all that mattered when playing sports, so, why not include everyone even if he could shoot the ball himself?

You looked out the window, noticing the view of the many boys who kicked around a soccer ball. It wasn’t the best view, but you were still able to see a few faces—Jungwon’s especially.

Most of you wanted to get a closer look. It would be nice to take a short break from studying, right? It couldn’t hurt your academics that much…

You rose from your seat, head spinning once again. It was unbearable, but you’ve experienced worse.

See, you’ve definitely experienced worse. So, why were you on the verge of passing out, once again?

You stood in front of the window sill Jungwon’s friend, Baekseung, would always sit on. Your grip tightened the ledge, losing balance in your legs. Your vision became even blurry than before as your mind became foggy.

Yeah, you were definitely about to knock out cold. There was no way you would manage to stay conscious.

A moment after coming to terms with the fact you were about to faint, your body hit the floor, leaving the space between two desks occupied.

Your eyes were slowly closing as the warmth of a hand was placed on your face. Ears ringing, making anything that person said incoherent.

It was a terrible feeling. Maybe you should’ve gone to the nurse’s office at the beginning of your fever.

Yeah… Maybe.

“It’s 11:30, I have to go.” Jungwon said after checking the time on his watch. He waved goodbye to those he played with on the field, then looked at the classroom window, a smile making its way to his face.

Now it was time for 30 minutes with you.

But where were you? He scanned the empty classroom, yet you were nowhere to be found. Your stuff wasn't there either.

You weren’t there.

He was confused. You never left your seat, no matter the reason. So, where could you have gone?

Jungwon had no clue where he was going, letting his feet take him wherever. Suddenly, he was in front of the nurse’s office. Not even he knew why he was here.

Without hesitation, he slid open the door, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. Except, you weren’t in his arms like before.

“Oh, Jungwon. What brings you here?” Mrs. Oh greets almost immediately. That was a great question.

What brought him here?

“I’m not sure.” Jungwon said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, confused. That was the first time she received an answer like his.

The boy stared at the nurse in silence. It was awkward for her, but not for him.

Seriously, why was he brought here?

“Is… Is (Name) here?” He asked. Part of him regretted letting his so-called question slip out while the other part hoped you were here.

Other than that, he wouldn’t have any other ideas about where you could possibly be right now.

“Oh, yes, she is. Were you looking for her?” Mrs. Oh questioned, a slight smile plastered on her face.

Jungwon nodded, not wanting to say anything else. He already embarrassed himself enough.

He followed the direction the nurse pointed in, heading to where you were supposedly lying down.

“Apparently, she fainted in class again. One of your classmates brought her over… Turns out she had a raging fever.”

So, he wasn’t hallucinating the pained expression you gave him at the start of lunch.

At the sounds of his footsteps, you turned around fast, pretending to be asleep.

“I saw you.” Jungwon said, pulling your curtains aside.

“Nice try.” He took a seat beside you as you bit your bottom lip, eyes squinting in defeat.

“Are you feeling better?”

You turned around at his words to face him. The damped cloth that rested on your forehead slowly slipped off, causing him to catch it.

“A little bit.” You said as he adjusted the cloth.

You weren’t lying about it being a little bit. At least you were now able to move.

“Did you take medication?”

You nodded, noticing the fact he was only going to continue asking questions about your wellbeing.

“I heard you fainted… Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, the worry finally sinking in.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I got up to look out the window, but I guess I overestimated my ability.” You said with a light laugh.

“Why would you get up to look out the window if you were already feeling unwell?” He asked with furrowed brows.

It was only common sense, you should’ve made your way to the nurse's office. Not somewhere to admire scenery.

“Are you lecturing me, again?” You asked, referring to the conversation in the classroom from a while ago.

“Yes. You need to take care of yourself more.”

“But if I said I was trying to watch you play soccer, then what?”

Jungwon felt his heart skip a beat.

Okay. Maybe you got him there.

“T-That doesn’t matter. Your health comes first.” He mentally cursed at himself for stuttering. Your words must’ve taken a toll on him.

“You’re boring.” You said before looking away from the boy.

To be honest, this would be the best time to confess, right?

Mrs. Oh had left the office a while ago, meaning it was just the two of you left alone.

When would Jungwon ever get another opportunity like this one?

“Listen,” he started, gaining your attention all over again. You look over at him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.

“I know grades are important, but your health is too. Please prioritise your health as well, okay?” Jungwon paused, hesitating with his next words.

It was now or never.

“I don't want to fall in love with a corpse. It’ll be better if it were just you.”

You stared at the boy, stunned. You couldn’t tell if your temperature was rising or you were flustered by his sudden confession.

An awkward silence followed through, as he felt his heart sink.

Did he just mess everything up?

“Anyways… have you drank anything yet?” Jungwon asked, switching the topic really fast.

“No…” You whispered.

He nodded his head, pursing his lips and patted his thighs.

“Okay. I’ll go get you something.” He said before rising up from his seat and leaving quite fast.

You felt bad. If it were a confession, you just left him hanging.

Jungwon pushed the buttons on the vending machine with pressure. He was embarrassed.

Very embarrassed.

He didn’t want to show himself in that room ever again. The atmosphere was definitely still the same as before—awkward and unbearable.

Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his friend's advice. He could’ve saved himself from experiencing this sort of regret.

The sound of the juice boxes falling from their designated spots caught Jungwon’s attention. He whined at the sound, not wanting to go back at all.

Still, he couldn’t keep you waiting.

His plan of pretending nothing happened was now set in motion. It wouldn’t be that hard to forget the previous interaction, right?

“I hope you like orange juice—”

“Was that a confession earlier or was I going crazy?”

So much for pretending nothing happened.

He stumbled in his tracks, he was nowhere near your bed yet.

“Was it?” You asked, quite literally pestering a response from him.

Jungwon mumbled something to himself. Something along the lines of hoping he doesn’t mess things up further.

“Yes, it was.” He said, a heavy sigh following through.

Although his sigh sounded stressed, yours sounded relieved.

“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was the only one.” You said, causing Jungwon to make his way to your bed even faster.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his hands carrying the juice boxes and a confused expression on his face.

“Is it not obvious?” You asked, but he remained still.

Clearly, it wasn’t.

You sighed, disappointed that he couldn’t read between the lines with that brain of his.

“I like you too, Jungwon.”

RANK TEN.

“It really happened?!” Baekseung exclaimed, shocked. Jungwon covered his mouth with a hand, not wanting the whole world to hear about yesterday’s interaction.

“Then what?” Minji asked.

“It’s a secret.” Jungwon said with a teasing smile. Minji rolled her eyes at his response. It definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

The classroom door slid open, gaining his attention quickly. You walked into the classroom, holding your books to your chest.

A smile of adoration made its way to Jungwon’s face as you looked over at him, smiling.

Minji observed the interaction with curious eyes.

“What the hell? Never do that again, please.” Baekseung said, removing Jungwon’s hand from his mouth.

“Wait so… Are you guys, well, dating now?” Minji asked.

“Woah, no.” He said, raising his hands up in defence.

“So, you guys just confessed to each other and that was all?” She asked in a more hushed tone since you arrived.

Jungwon nodded.

Minji was about to say something else, but the bell rang, cutting her off before she could even start. The teacher walked in, addressing everyone to return to their seats.

You smiled to yourself and pulled out your phone to send the boy a text.

“Nice one.” It read with a smiley emoji.

Jungwon’s phone dinged, causing him to look at it. A smile made its way to his face as he read the message.

He was lying to his friends the whole time. Yes, that was bad to do, but it was the best way of keeping your official relationship with each other a secret.

They could know you two confessed to each other, but not that you were dating.

To be honest, Jungwon never saw this coming. He always thought you would be someone he hated because he never knew it was possible to meet somebody who was at his level.

He truly thought he was dreaming when he first saw you and learned about that information.

But right now, he was thankful he wasn’t and was thankful that you were someone who he fell in love with.

Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024

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timewillpasssoon · 14 days

Note

hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

#joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein fluff #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #Joost angst #justice for joost #joost klein x fem reader

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thatacotargirl · 18 days

Note

Hi there, still accepting requests? For some reason I'm in the mood for some classic Elriel angst 🥺 maybe where Inner Circle reader loves her best friend Azriel and secretly knows that they are mates, but he was always in love with Mor and now seems smitten over Elain, so she's scared to tell him in case she gets rejected, and she doesn't want him to feel forced to be with her because of the bond, but he finally realises (maybe when reader is about to give up on him and go on a date with someone else or leave the night court) and they get their cutesy happy ending together 😊

Hi there! I absolutely am, thank you for the request! I’m a fluffy writer at heart so this is my first attempt at any kind of angst - I hope I do your request justice!

Inbox is always open for requests ❤️

Divider is from @tsunami-of-tears , you are an absolute genius! Thank you for making such beautiful dividers ❤️

Misunderstandings

An Reader x Azriel one shot

"AZ!"

You hear screeching laughter from the library of the House of Wind and you feel your heart crack, your stomach drop, and your head spin, knowing exactly who that laughter is coming from. The strawberry pastry in your hand drops to the floor as you pop your head around the door, careful not to be seen, and see Elain balancing precariously on Azriel's shoulder. Azriel, who is known for his reserved nature, his lack of comfort for physical touch, has Elain hoisted on his shoulders and is guiding her towards the bookshelves so she can reach the book she is looking for. Only, he keeps pretending to trip, or to drop her, or to forget she's there - making her scream and grasp onto his arms tightly. In other words, he is flirting with her.

You feel tears pricking in your eyes as you slowly back away and close the door quietly behind you, desperate to not hear the laughter any more.

When you had felt the bond snap with Azriel 75 years ago, your heart had soared. You had harboured a crush on the Shadowsinger since the first moment you met him and to know he was your Cauldron destined mate had been the best moment of your life. Only, the bond snapped one-sided, and Azriel had yet to realise. Sometimes you would tug on that little golden thread, other times you'd yank on it harshly, hoping for any sort of reaction from him, for him to realise who you were. But nothing.

Instead, you watched as Azriel pursued an unrequited crush on Mor for centuries. She had no idea that you were mates, the only person that knew was Rhysand - and likely Feyre by extension. She didn't know how much it hurt to watch Azriel follow her around, his eyes full of metaphorical hearts. You saw the pitying looks from Rhysand every night at Ritas when Azriel would make a sly attempt at garnering Mor's attention, his back turned to you.

You and Azriel had always been close, he was easily the best friend that you had ever had. You could fall into comfortable silences with each other, neither of you particularly extroverted people, especially not by comparison to the rest of your family. But there was always a very clear line in your friendship and it was never once crossed. You'd hug, if the situation warranted it, you'd sit next to each other at meals and on the sofa, he'd help you if you asked; but you knew he didn't see you the same way that he saw Mor.

And now, Elain.

You had caught the pair of them in the kitchen just last week, laughing and covered in flour as he watched Elain bake. You saw them sat shoulder to shoulder in Azriel's study late at night, giggling over who knows what. Azriel had never looked this happy before.

You didn't realise you were crying outside the library door until you felt a hand on your shoulder and the sensation of winnowing around you. When you looked up, you were in Rhysand's office and clasped to his chest.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I told him to stay away from her, on account of her being a mated female, I thought he'd listen".

You could do nothing but cry harder. His feelings for Elain surpassed even an order from Rhysand - and Azriel never defied Rhysand. You heard the door open but didn't look up, too busy soaking Rhysand's shirt in tears. You felt someone pull you towards them and your body was engulfed in another, large male. You would know Cassian's scent from anywhere.

"He's a fool, y/n", Cassian whispered into your hair. You looked up at him, and then glared at Rhysand.

"I didn't tell him!", Rhysand said, holding up his hands in innocence.

"He didn't have to tell me, y/n. I figured it out a long time ago - for a Spymaster, I'm amazed he's so damn clueless".

You only cried harder, your head on Cassian's chest, mindful of his siphon. He held you whilst you wept, slowly guiding you both to the sofa in Rhysand's office.

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Rhys".

"Do what?"

"Stand by and watch him fall in love with every female that isn't me".

Both Rhysand and Cassian looked at each other, concern marring their faces.

"What are you saying, y/n?".

"I need to leave, Rhys".

You didn't know how long you intended to leave the Night Court for. Rhysand had spoken with Tarquin and had agreed that you would go to the Summer Court. You would find a home and work there, and Tarquin would allow you to stay for as long as you wanted - forever, if that was your decision. He had even lifted the ban on Cassian, allowing him to visit, but only if supervised by you at all times. You had formally resigned from your role as Night Court emissary and began packing your bags.

Mor and Feyre, teary-eyed, sat on your bed watching you pack - Mor secretly pulling out clothes from your suitcase so you'd have to re-fold them and stay longer.

"Mor".

"Please don't leave us, y/n. Azriel is an idiot, he's not worth leaving over".

You had told them about your mating bond with Azriel. Nesta and Amren also knew. But you'd been careful not to tell Azriel or Elain. You didn't want Azriel to leave Elain just to be with you because of the mating bond - you wanted him to be with you because he loved you. But he didn't. He loved her.

"I have to, Mor. It's time I get some space and find my own feet again. All these years have been taken up by Azriel and waiting for him - I deserve more than that".

She sighed, her head hanging in resignation. She knew you were right.

As you put the last of your clothes in the suitcase, you moved it to the door where your boxes waited to be transported to the Summer Court. You heard a knock, expecting Rhysand, but opened the door to a grinning Elain.

"Hi y/n! I was just wondering if you wanted to go..."

Elain looked from you to the suitcase, to the boxes, to Mor and Feyre's tear-stained faces, and then back to you.

"What's going on?".

"I'm going away for a little bit - just to the Summer Court. But you can visit, and I'm sure I'll visit here again".

Elain's lip wobbled.

"For how long?".

Feyre couldn't hold back her sob and at that moment, Elain realised you might be leaving forever.

"Why?".

You wanted to tell her the truth, but her sweet face made it hard to be angry at her. She didn't choose this. She didn't know that Azriel was your mate. She is just a young female thrown into a new world and making the best of it.

"Just need a change of scenery", you reply, forcing a smile on your face. You watch as Elain's face changed from heartbroken to panic-stricken, and she ran from the room.

"I think maybe that was one change too many for her", Mor sighs.

"I'll go after her", Feyre says, standing from the bed. She pulls you in for one last, long hug and flies from the room, hiding the new batch of tears streaming down her face. You see Rhysand standing in the doorway, his hand outstretched to you.

"Ready?".

You nod, taking his hand in yours and feeling his powers fill the room as he winnows you to Adriata, the Summer Court, your new home. You felt a lightness take hold of your body that had been missing for the last 75 years. A sense of calm and peace. Your heart was broken, but it could heal, you could find yourself again and feel happiness and joy at the small things in life, things you sorely missed.

But, if you'd have tugged on that golden thread one last time, you'd have felt Azriel's answering pull back.

Elain thundered through the House of Wind and up the stairs to the training ring on the roof. She burst the door open to see Azriel lighting the last of the candles that surrounded the picnic blanket, rose petals littered the floor, and a strawberry pastry sat on a plate in the middle. Azriel knew they were your favourite, and knew it had to be the food he offered you for the mating bond.

"AZ, SHE'S GONE".

Azriel whipped his head to the door to see a dishevelled Elain standing there, red in the face and out of breath.

"Gone where?"

"The Summer Court, she's left the Night Court, Az".

Azriel felt his heart sink. He had only felt the bond snap a few weeks ago and had been planning this night ever since. Elain, his new friend and confidant, had been helping him. She had helped Azriel find and read your favourite romance novels in the library to know what you liked from a partner, she had helped Azriel learn how to bake your favourite pastry so it would be perfect for you when you accepted the mating bond, she had taught him calligraphy so he could write you the love notes he knew you swooned over, the pair of them giggling at Azriel's attempts to be a hopeless romantic, and failing terribly.

He never imagined that you would leave before he could tell you how much he loved you. That you would leave without even saying goodbye.

His head reeled as he stumbled backwards. Without a second thought, he took to the sky, wings beating harder than they ever had before, towards the Summer Court.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Tarquin". You were in awe of the home he had provided for you in Adriata. A beachfront, two-story home decorated to the nines in shells and pearls. It was glorious.

"It is my pleasure, y/n. Please, do enjoy everything that my Court has to offer. This particular beach gives a beautiful view of the sunset".

With that, Tarquin departed - allowing you time to process your move and absorb your new surroundings. You walked down to the ocean, your beautiful new sundress blowing gently in the breeze, and felt the water flow up to your mid-calves. It was pleasantly warm, heated by a day of sunshine, as you watched dusk start to coat the horizon.

That was, until something crash landed in the ocean in front of you.

Before you were able to turn back and run, you noticed a black membrane bob up out of the water, followed by a blazing blue siphon. You heart stuttered as you watched Azriel swim as fast as he could to you.

"Y/n", he breathed, his hair matted to his face with sweat and salt water. In his hand, you noticed a soggy, crumbled, almost entirely disintegrated strawberry pastry. Gaping, you watched Azriel offer the pile of mush to you.

"Az?"

"I.... love.... you", he heaved, trying to catch his breath.

But you were pretty sure you stopped breathing altogether. You heard more noises behind you, and turned to see your entire Night Court family there, having been winnowed in by Rhys, Feyre and Mor.

"What is going on?".

Rhys stepped forward and offered you his hand.

"Let me show you". So you did.

Once joined, Rhys entered your mind and showed you memories from Elain and Azriel's minds. You saw the moment the bond snapped for Azriel, the grin that had taken over his face when he realised, the sheer excitement she had felt at knowing two of her friends were mated. You saw the conversation between them - Azriel asking her to teach him how to make your favourite strawberry pastry. You saw, from their eyes, what they were giggling about at Azriel's desk - the poorly written love notes, all addressed to you. You saw the book Elain was reaching for in the library from Azriel's shoulders - your favourite romance - and how they studied your tabs and highlighting like their life depended on it. You saw the picnic. You saw Azriel's heartbroken face when Elain told him that you had left.

As Rhys withdrew, you realised that you were crying. When you looked up, you realised you weren't the only one, your entire family was in tears - Cassian near blubbering into Nesta's hair.

Azriel loved you.

You turned to face him, still completely sodden and holding out the mush to you. You took it, grimacing slightly, and shoved the entire pile of it into your mouth.

"I love you too".

Azriel flew at you, grabbed you into his arms and kissed you like he would never get another chance. You dropped your shield and felt the bond overflowing with love, Azriel pushing all of his emotions to you, almost knocking the breath out of you once more.

"Come home?", he asked quietly.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again. Then paused.

"But, maybe in a couple of weeks?". Azriel looked at you with confusion, before his eyes suddenly darkened, a feral look overtaking his face.

"Aaaaannnddd, that's our cue to go", Cassian laughed, your family all grappling at each other to get out of there quickly, not wanting a front row seat to your show.

You paid no attention as you let Azriel lift you into his arms and carry you towards the beachfront house. You simply smiled, feeling comfort in the fact that, maybe, everything really was going to be ok.

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #azriel x reader #a court of frost and starlight #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel #azriel one shot #acotar imagine #acotar oneshot #azriel imagine

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feyascorner · 4 months

Note

Ok but what if tav is the hero of baldurs gate right, the god killer, slayer of the chosen three, savior of the emerald grove etc etc and after all that is told they had this incurable illness that the parasite had only slowed down. Now, with it gone, it’s progressing again and Tav can’t help but feel so stupid, weak even, that such a mighty hero could be struck by the weaknesses of their own body

Maybe pushes everyone away when they find out, too afraid to tell them that after everything they’ve been through after surviving all of that that they were going to die anyways

AND THEN ASTARIONS REACTION!!! Because surely he would not take that news sitting down (if he found out at all)

a/n. anon how did you know this type of prompt is exactly my cup of tea <33

It's not fair.

You did everything right. You saved the grove, the Tieflings, the Druids, the gnomes, the city, and even those who did not deserve saving, you always came to their aid. You've slayed gods, mind flayers, githyanki, even a bloody elder brain. And now, finally, after so long, with the brain having been defeated, and nothing but pure bliss occupying your headspace, you think you finally have time to relax.

Instead, you're reeled over the bathroom sink, eyes blurry from how much your body seems hellbent on making you miserable.

Ah, you remember. No matter what you've done for others, no matter what you've sacrificed, you're reduced to nothing but a sick patient. One that has no hope for a cure.

The months spent with little to do with your illness has left it to come back tenfold, and now all you can do is grovel on the bathroom floor, head in your hands as you understand that this is all you were meant to amount to. In the end, you were always destined to rot away by yourself and succumb to this gods forsaken disease. You are no hero. This is what you truly are---the pitiful remains of someone who longed for more.

The weeks following the defeat of the elder brain are filled with mournful streets for those who lost their lives and the joyous laughter of those who live on for them. Celebration--though it's difficult with half the taverns having collapsed in the battle--is not out of the ordinary. Strangers and friends alike come together every night, singing praises to whichever gods they worship. Your companions are no exception.

But each and every time, you deny their offers. You've become quite skilled at making up excuses about feeling tired, about having errands to run, or having loose ends to tie up. In reality, you're a coward. Despite the trust they put in you, you cannot provide it back--not in matters like this. Not when you've all been through so much, just for your own journey to amount to nothing.

It's not like you haven't known about this disease. You knew your death was imminent. But now, after experiencing just a fraction of what life has to offer, you no longer want to let go.

It's just not fair.

For what seems to be the millionth time this week, you hear someone knock at your door. Whichever one of your companions it is, you don't bother taking a step from your bed, face still planted into your sheets. You don't have the energy to move, and the useless healing herbs scattered across the room don't exactly hide your secret. So instead of standing, you bury your face deeper into your bed.

"You can't stay in there forever."

You flinch as you realize it's a voice you've dreaded hearing. One that invokes so much love yet fear as you remember that if you see him right now, it might be your last. And you don't want that. Not at all.

"I don't know what we've done to make you push us away like this," he says through the door, and your fist tightens in front of your chest. "But this is getting ridiculous, darling. You have to come out eventually."

You remain silent.

"Gods, just--" he stops, and you can hear the hesitance in his voice. You swear it almost cracks a little. "--Have I done something wrong?"

At this, you're suddenly on your feet, rushing to push yourself against the door, but unwilling to open in. "No, Astarion, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't you dare think that way."

You can hear him shift. "Then why do you avoid me? The others, I can understand, but me?...I mean, I thought we were more than that..."

"We are, it's just..."

"Just what?"

The final thread of your resolve snaps, and you reach toward your lock. Your hand falters for a moment, but you eventually open the door slowly. And if the way his face falls tells you anything, you must look absolutely dreadful.

"Oh, my sweet, what's happened to you?" he whispers, his eyes widening even more when he sees the mess of your home behind you. The clothes all over the floor, the blinds shut despite there being no sunlight to shield from, the healing potions and herbs messily tossed around...you'd feel ashamed if you weren't so tired already.

"...Are you sick?" he steps inside, taking his time to take in the state of what you call home. When you don't answer, he whips around to you, alarmed. "You're sick. Is it a cold? Flu?"

You shake your head, sick of having to lie to the one person you don't want to deceive. "It's a long story."

"I'm undead, darling. I have all the time in the world."

"It's not a very nice story."

"If I wanted a nice story, I'd be listening to a bard someplace else," he says, and you feel your eyes bubble with tears as he steps closer. "What's happened?"

The words spill out like vomit, and you're soon telling him what's been weighing on you for so long. You find yourself sliding down to the ground, and he goes with you, letting you grasp desperately at the sleeves of his shirt while you tell him everything. You can barely breathe with how fast your talking but you're afraid you won't say everything if you get any slower. The entire time, he just stares at you, his arms circled around you, and only when you're done does his gaze finally flicker.

"...Surely, there must be a cure." He's suddenly glancing around the entire room, at pieces of herbs. "Surely, at least one of these would--"

"None of them work, Astarion."

"Then we can find the finest healers in the city--we can even go back to that damn druid, and ask him."

"I've tried."

"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, obviously, if you haven't found a bloody cure!"

You give him one hard look--one with dark bags under your eyes and a weariness that stretches on for weeks--and his temper seems to cool. His shoulders slump, but he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just felt so weak," you whisper. "I didn't want you to think that too."

Immediately, his eyes harden, and he takes both sides of your face in his hands. "No. I don't think you're weak, and that's not going to change. You've proven yourself more than I can count, and I know you enough to know that you can't let it end like this, love. You can't leave like this."

"Astarion..."

He shakes his head. "I won't let this take you from me. There have been too many opportunities for us to lose each other, and we've overcome them all. We'll just do it again. We'll go to the most skilled healers in Faerun. We'll go to all of them if we have to, and we'll start tomorrow."

You can feel yourself tear up again, and he kisses your tears away while you sob in his arms.

"I'll save you," he mumbles against your temple. "Even if it's the last thing I do."

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

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ozzgin · 10 months

Text

[Baki Masterlist]

Yandere! Pickle x Reader

"Was that Hanayama on the phone?" you inquire slightly distracted. "What did he want?"

"I'll explain more on the way, (Y/N). I know it's a bit sudden, but we should hurry."

Baki grabs your wrist with gentle confidence and begins to sprint lightly, allowing you to match his pace.

"What the hell? Did something happen?" you increase your speed without complaints, though you'd like to know why you just started running like a madman.

"Remember that caveman we saw on TV?"

"Pickle? Yeah, how is that-" your mouth hangs open for a few more seconds as you process the information, and as everything finally clicks into place you furrow your brows at the young boy. He quickly turns his head to glance at you and flashes an apologetic smile.

"I just wanted to see him with my own eyes. Aren't you curious, too?"

You press your lips together and just look ahead. When Baki is like this, there's no point in arguing. The two of you have developed this dynamic of a little brother looking for trouble and the older sibling going along with it, too softened by their affection to say no.

You assume you've reached your destination when a large group of men are standing close together, observing something in frightened silence. You push past them and notice Hanayama, standing casually in front of the large man that's been making the headlines for the past days. Your eyes trace the heavy dents and cracks left in the asphalt, somewhat regretful for missing the event that caused them.

Pickle turns around, following Hanayama's gaze. Among the terrified expressions there's a small boy grinning with excitement. Next to him is an even smaller human who immediately reminds Pickle of the woman that had approached him upon his arrival. His eyes widen as he takes in the soft features and smooth frame. The tiny human returns the stare, although with detached indifference. Pickle can feel his heart throbbing loudly in his chest. He doesn't sense any fear and that entrances him greatly.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that." Baki snaps him back to reality. "I've been looking forward to seeing you, you know? I wanted to meet you so badly! When I heard you escaped, I asked Hanayama to keep an eye out for me."

Pickle extends his fist, seemingly unimpressed by the monologue, and Baki doesn't hesitate to return the gesture. Within seconds Baki finds himself flipped upside down, but he quickly readjusts himself and lands safely, struck with amazement.

"Isn't that aikido?!" you gasp in disbelief, sharing Baki's reaction. Pickle immediately picks up on the fact that you've observed him and a satisfied smile appears on his face. Were you impressed by his newly acquired skills? Whatever bizarre techniques these humans were throwing at him weren't hard to decipher nor reproduce.

Pickle's musings are interrupted by a strong kick to the face. Baki barely manages to contain himself. He's panting and sweating with feverish anticipation.

Before Pickle can react, the tiny human swings her arm and whacks the boy behind his head.

"Oi! What's the matter with you? This is the kind of face you make when seeing your girlfriend, not some random museum exhibit. Tone it down or I'll let Kozue know what kind of pervert she's dating!"

"It's not like that!" Baki rubs his freshly earned wound in embarrassment. "And you didn't have to hit me that hard. You're going to scare Pickle off."

The large prehistoric man watches the exchange. He doesn't understand what they're saying, but the body language indicates that they're close. Are they mates? He becomes slightly irritated at the thought. He wants to know the pretty looking human better, but it now seems there's an obstacle in the way. He'll take care of it.

***

Pickle starts walking away, guiding his new friends down the busy streets of Tokyo until they reach the underground arena. Despite Tokugawa's anger upon finding the escape artist, you whistle in admiration. You wish you had this kind of spatial orientation.

"So, what is it you want to do now that you've brought us here?" Baki is the first one to break the silence.

"Baki, isn't it obvious what you're gonna do here? You know what's done here, don't you? He's picking a fight with you!" Tokugawa exclaims, the scolding attitude from a moment ago long forgotten.

The light above you is abruptly dimmed and you look up to see that Pickle is somehow standing inches away, towering over with a wide grin. How did it bypass your attention? Tokugawa lets out a yell of surprise; Hanayama and Baki immediately switch to a defensive stance. They didn't expect this.

"W-what is he doing?" the old man mumbles in fear.

Pickle places a heavy hand on your head and ruffles your hair lightly. You stare in confusion, unsure how to react. He bends over for a brief moment and inhales in rapid intervals, as if inspecting your scent. Once satisfied, he growls at you - perhaps in an attempt to communicate - and turns back to Baki.

"Is it possible he likes (Y/N)?" Hanayama hums, weighing his thoughts.

"In that case, maybe he sees Baki as his rival?" Tokugawa points out.

"Hmmm. Then it should make this fight even more entertaining." Hanayama continues.

"I'm in the room, you know? You're talking as if I'm some meat on display." you groan in annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry, (Y/N). We'll clear things up with Pickle after this, alright? Until then let me have my fun, please~" he pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes.

The large man grinds his teeth in anger as he's witnessing this clear display of disrespect. He's just announced his intentions to claim you, and this human half his size is mocking him in plain sight. He'll make sure he never gets up again. With a thrust, he lands his foot on Baki's chest and sends him flying into the public seating. The poor young boy gasps for air and passes out almost instantly.

Pickle begins to approach him in heavy, menacing steps. Hanayama raises his arms in his signature stance, pondering whether or not to interfere in someone else's fight. You don't share his battle etiquette and plant yourself in the path of the Jurassic man.

"That's enough. You've won." you claim in a low, assertive demand.

Pickle puckers his lips in surprise and curiosity. His eyebrows are raised and he stops to consider. Are you trying to protect your mate? Do you not understand how these things work? He's stronger and therefore entitled to his prize. Why wouldn't you want a partner that's more capable of protecting you, anyways? It makes no sense.

He gently presses your shoulder in an attempt to move you out of the way, but it doesn't seem to do much. He increases the force to the point he can feel your arm muscles contracting and flexing, though you still don't budge. His mouth opens slightly and he lets out an inquiring growl.

Looking into your eyes, he catches a glimpse of the same determination he saw in the man he fought recently. A smile widens on his face, revealing his polished fangs. To think that such a small body is holding so much tenacity. He's very proud of himself for finding a fitting partner.

You haven't attacked him so far, so he guesses you've reached a similar conclusion. You're probably asking him to let the feeble human live with his loss. He can, of course, show this courtesy for your sake. He lifts you by the waist and holds you above his head. He can finally take his time admiring your features. He wants to etch them into his memory, down to the finest detail.

"Well...that stopped him at least." Tokugawa comments with his arms folded, standing awkwardly before the bizarre scene.

"I doubt he'll harm (Y/N), so let's get Baki out of here." Hanayama climbs up the stairs towards the unconscious boy. "Can we leave you alone with Pickle for now, (Y/N)? I'm sorry for putting you into this situation."

"I should manage", you sigh in defeat. Once again you're left to deal with the mess. You pat Pickle's head in an attempt to secure your safety even further. The large man is elated and lets out some high pitched sounds that reverberate across the arena. He even dares to wonder if his awakening was something meant in order to meet you. That's how he feels right now, at least. A fateful encounter with his lifelong companion, regardless of where this strange new life might take him.

"Ooh, Professor Payne won't be happy about this..." Tokugawa laments, following Hanayama.

***

"I'm glad you're finally done with your Jurassic adventure", you tell Baki as both of you stroll through the city.

"I'm a bit salty I didn't win, though." He slouches dramatically and you laugh at his theatrics.

"You're never satisfied with anything. You should be grateful you didn't end up like Retsu, Katsumi or Jack." you place your index in front of his face, pretending to lecture him.

"By the way, did you see the latest news? They want to put Pickle back to sleep. What will you do?"

"Me? What business do I have with it? I had him attached to my hip this whole time, I can finally catch my breath."

"It was your one and only chance to have a boyfriend!" Baki teases you with a wink. "Poor Pickle is probably going mad looking for you now. Don't you want to at least say goodbye?"

"If I go say goodbye I won't leave again, so no thank you."

You slow down as you reach the intersection. This is where you usually part ways, so your conversation has come to an end.

"Well, it was nice hanging out with you. I'll see you around." the boy waves as he continues to the left. You check the time on your phone and stretch with a yawn. You can't wait to have a proper sleep.

You arrive at your apartment and fumble with your pockets to find the keys. When you glance at the lock, you notice a massive shadow looming over the entire wall. You step back instinctively and realize that whatever is creating the shadow currently stands behind you. Two arms sprawl out and twist around your body. You're overwhelmed by a now familiar smell.

Pickle rests his head on yours and closes his eyes. Oh, the absolute terror he went through when he realized you were no longer with him! The helplessness of not being to communicate this disaster to the confused humans in white coats, staring at him without the slightest idea. How did not a single one of them comprehend that his partner vanished? He'd trashed the place over in a blind rage and turned the city upside down in his desperate search. He never felt so vulnerable and naked and weak. Thankfully, he knows your scent so well that the smallest hint of it can get him running.

But alas, you're here now in his arms and he vows to never lose you again. He doesn't know where he is or what this reality means, but he has one certainty he can cling onto. That you're all his, until time freezes over again.

#yandere baki #baki #baki the grappler #pickle #pickle x reader #baki x reader #pickle baki

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fcthots · 7 months

Note

jason x depressed!reader with "Do you want me to wash your hair?"

You're in your bed, trying to take a nap. You were exhausted, but couldn't fall asleep, and even if you did, it wouldn't go away. Picking up your phone and seeing all the missed texts and calls made it worse. The tv was on some show that you used to love, but now it was just pissing you off. Sleep wouldn't come and everything was making you upset or angry, but you also felt numb. Everything was stupid and you felt trapped in your own head.

Until you heard the door open.

You weren't worried about it being an intruder or anything. Jason made sure your apartment was equipped with oracle approved safety measures when you moved in, but that meant that there were very few people it could be.

You don’t move from your spot, only your eyes and greasy hair peeking out from the blankets. Maybe you didn’t have the energy to get up and run to the bathroom to get ready, but that doesn’t mean you particularly liked anyone seeing you this vulnerable.

He gently opens your bedroom door. The lights are off so he can't tell right away if you're awake or not. He squints until he spots your eyes watching him. He sighs.

His footsteps feel louder than they are. You avert your gaze from his and instead focus your eyes onto his feet walking closer to you.

When he finally makes it to his destination, he doesn't look at you right away. "I'm gonna turn on the lamp."

You shut your eyes and reopen them after you hear the click of the lamp. You squint at Jason's feet again.

His voice holds no judgment or accusation. "Why weren't you answering your phone?"

You want to respond, you do, but you have no excuse to offer him. Your mouth feels heavy with the weight of your guilt. You worried him. He has other things to do and now he's checking on you because you wouldn't pick up the fucking phone and send one text message. And why? Because it was too stressful for you?

He lightly peels the covers back from your face.

"Come back to me. Don't lock yourself up in there. I'm not mad. You didn't do anything wrong. Stop trying to punish yourself."

You finally look at his face in order to squint at him in faux offense. He knows you too well.

He trails his thumb gently up and down your arm. "You good to answer questions?"

You think about it for a minute and nod, despite the fact that you don't exactly feel like like answering questions, afraid of what they will be, but this is Jason after all. He's always mindful of your limits. The hand stills.

"Cool. Do you know how many days it's been since this started? Ballpark?"

You avert your eyes. You feel shameful for not telling him when it started, knowing he asked you to tell him when it happens.

He starts trailing his thumb again. "Try and stay out your head for me. I promise I'm not mad, I'm just trying to figure out how bad the episode is."

You sigh. "Three?" Your voice comes out cracked from disuse.

He watches his hand move against your arm. "Close enough, although I think it may have been 4 days, maybe 5."

You grunt in acknowledgement.

He sighs, not out of exasperation, but in thought. "Do you want me to wash your hair? Like in the sink."

"No. The rest of me is gross too, I don't wanna wash just my hair."

"Well do you feel up to a full shower?"

You feel like you want to cry, but you won't. "No...but I don't want to just wash one part. I don't wanna use all the energy I have left only to get one thing done, but I don't have energy for the rest."

He softly brings his hand to your face. His thumb trails over your cheekbone. "That sounds overwhelming" after a beat, "and exhausting."

You groan and try to hide yourself under the covers, dislodging his hand.

He peels the covers back again. His voice holds sincerity. "How about I give you a bath then? You don't have to do any of the work. I'll do everything. How's that? Sound good?"

You take a moment before tentatively nodding your head.

Jason takes his time helping you up. He supports most of your weight which seems silly because you can technically walk just fine, but you don't pull away all the same. His arm feels warm around your waist as you walk.

"I'll make you something to eat after you get out, assuming you haven't eaten in a while." He's right. You nod. Something eats away at you.

Your steps get slower as you feel heavier with guilt. "You know it won't fix me, right? None of it can." You don't look him in the eyes as you speak.

You watch the furrow of his brows from the corner of your vision. He stops walking so he can look you in the eyes. "I don’t care. I don't care if I have to do this every day for months at a time. I don't care if I have to cook every single meal for you. I'll do all of it and more because I care about you."

"I'm already too much of a burden, I won't allow you too do that for me"

"But you can't make yourself do it right now so what's the plan? To rot away? No. Not happening. You are not a burden. I want to help you. Let me help you."

For him, you'd do anything.

#saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #saph’s thots #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #anon #angst #jason todd angst #hurt/comfort #jason todd x reader angst #red hood x you #red hood angst #red hood x reader angst

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pinchofhoney · 7 months

Note

Hi, could you write something for Coryo x reader were the reader is close if not equally as evil in the end. How would that relationship work? idk just a thought I had use it if you wish

crack in the mirror

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

warning: i think none

summary: Many cling to the belief of their own goodness, until they meet someone who's just like them.

a/n: hii, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you'll enjoy what i've written for you!<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @watercolorskyy

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

How did it all begin?

With the 10th Hunger Games, where your academic excellence earned you the role of mentor to one of the tributes.

It was a time of innocence and youthful ambition, back when your paths met within the shadowy corridors of the Capitol's Academy. You and Coriolanus were close friends, unstained by the cruelty that life had in store for you and you pretty often looked back on those days, memories of laughter, shared dreams, and an unwavering friendship etched in your mind.

The two of you were bound by a shared ambition, shining among the brightest stars, each destined for greatness in the eyes of those who believed in you. The world was your playground, and you were determined to conquer it. Little did you know how that fateful year, with its trials and tribulations, would set the course of your life on a much darker path.

As the mentor to Treech from District 7, you hadn't yet embraced the darkness that would soon consume you. Back then, you were as eager as your colleagues, hoping to prove your worth, do your best, and guide your tribute to victory. It was pretty cruel twist of fate that Lucy Gray Baird, with her haunting charm and cunning nature, would change the course of everything.

In the heart of those unforgettable 10th Hunger Games, within the unforgiving arena, your dreams and aspirations slowly began to twist and corrode. Ambition transformed into ruthless manipulation, friendship into subtle deception, and innocence into a devouring thirst for power. The venomous snake mutt that took Treech's life before your very eyes became a symbol of the ruthless transformation that was gradually overtaking you.

That year marked the beginning of your involvement in the Games and the emergence of a darkness that would one day reflect the very core of President Snow himself. The metropolis watched, captivated by the spectacle of the tributes battling for their lives, while behind the scenes, a bitter change took root.

As you stood alongside the other students in the viewing room, preoccupied with the tributes, a chill ran down your spine. You didn't yet grasped the feeling, but something fundamental had shifted within you. You couldn't shake the realization that in the Capitol, victory meant survival, and survival allowed for anything. Lucy Gray's actions, no matter how brutal, were merely a reflection of the society to which you belonged.

Coriolanus tried to hold onto the purity of your friendship, to keep the darkness at bay, but you were the values he progressively ignored. Ambition has a way of distorting even the best intentions, and the path you had chosen was covered in shadows and secrecy.

As the Games progressed, the transformation hastened. The bonds you had formed with others became instruments of manipulation, and you enjoyed your newfound ability to bend their will to your desires.

The suffering of each tribute, each extinguished life, stoked the icy flames of ambition within you. You clutched to the logic that to climb up the Capitol's hierarchy, you had to be willing to destroy all who stood in the way. Your heart grew cold, your smile more deceitful, and your soul darkened, much like the future President of Panem that Coriolanus didn't yet realize he would become.

The Games ended with Treech taking the third place, a result you considered an absolute failure. It served as the catalyst for your final descent into the abyss. You had only tasted a little bit of success, and you hungered for more. The purity of your friendship with Coriolanus had been definitely tarnished, and the darkness that enveloped you continued.

The 10th Hunger Games and the Gamemakers marked not just the beginning of a change within you, but also foreshadowed the dark days to come.

You and Coriolanus would be leaders of a world where cruelty and manipulation held authority.

You had come a long way since those innocent days at the Academy, where laughter and shared dreams were the currency of friendship. As the Head Gamemaker, you wielded power over life and death, orchestrating the annual Hunger Games spectacle that captivated the Capitol.

Your importance in the Capitol was undeniable, but the bonds of friendship that once connected you to young Snow had weakened, stretched to their limits, and threatened to break. Since your graduation from the Academy, the warmth of your interactions had been replaced by a chilling formality. The echoes of your former closeness had grown faint, drowned out by the sounds of the ruthless Games you helped design.

Coriolanus, still crawling in his presidency, remained in your life as a hint of your teenage years and shared mentorship past. He was both intrigued and disturbed by the ideas you injected into the Games each year, but he never consciously acknowledged the rot that had taken root within him as well.

As the Head Gamemaker, you reveled in the dark art of power, where tributes became pawns and suffering was blend into the very fabric of the arena. Your ambitions had propelled you to the highest echelons of Capitol society, but the biggest cost had been the destruction of the humanity that once defined you.

Determined, you made your way to the meeting room, eager to introduce Coriolanus to your plan for the 23rd Hunger Games.

He was already there, wearing an expression that mixed curiosity with apprehension. You greeted him with a cool nod, fully aware of how your interactions had grown more formal over the years.

“Coryo,” you began, saying the familiar diminutive you'd used back at the Academy. The warmth of that old friendship may have cooled, but the nickname had grown in you, a habit you couldn't shake when you were alone with him. “I've prepared something truly phenomenal for this year's Games. Something that will cause goosebumps on the skin of every viewer, let alone the tributes in the arena,” you said, locking your gaze with your old friend with a mysterious smirk on your lips.

In response, Coriolanus leaned in with growing curiosity. “Please, continue,” he urged, which only caused a wider smile on your face.

You gestured toward a holographic projection on the wall, revealing a sinister, genetically created creature. Its elongated limbs, razor-sharp claws, and grotesque, misshapen features created a nightmarish creation.

“This,” you declared, “is the Umbra Noctis. It's a creature designed to terrify and torture the tributes in ways they could never have imagined. With its ability to blend into the shadows, it will stalk them relentlessly, striking fear into their hearts.”

Coriolanus observed the creature, a mixture of fascination and consternation in his eyes, narrowing the gap between you. “But how does it differ from the mutts we've used before?”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “It carries a venom that induces hallucinations, distorting reality for its victims. The terror it inflicts will be as much psychological as it is physical.”

As you detailed your plan, the room seemed to grow colder, and the weight of your shared darkness pressed on Coriolanus. You described the various mutants and horrors destined for the arena, all designed to heighten the tributes' fear and despair.

“I want the 23rd Hunger Games to be remembered as the most nightmarish ever,” you declared. “A spectacle that reveals the true depths of human darkness, concealed behind the Capitol's glittering facade.”

As the weight of your words settled in the room, Coriolanus’ initial curiosity gave way to a growing skepticism. He couldn't help but question the depths of darkness you were willing to immerse.

“Isn't this,” Coriolanus began, his voice cautious, “perhaps too much, even for the Hunger Games? We want to entertain, to captivate the audience, not to... terrify to the point of despair.”

You turned to him, your gaze firm, and for a moment, the professional mask slipped, revealing the abyss beneath. “Coryo, don't you see? The Capitol's fascination with the Games is not just about entertainment. It's about the harsh reality that we, as a society, have become as ruthless and depraved as the Games themselves. We are a reflection of the horrors we create.”

Coriolanus eyed you, his features a blend of recognition and disquiet. Your words had hit the spot, reminding him that he, too, played a role in Panem's transformation as its president.

You continued, your voice now nearly a whisper, “The darkness, Coryo, is not just within the arena but within us. The Games merely show what has always been there. It's a reflection of who we've become, and it's time we faced that truth.”

For a brief moment, Coriolanus seemed to confront his own rottenness, an unsettling truth that had long been concealed in the shadows of his conscience and the room fell silent.

With measured steps, you circled around Coriolanus, stopping in front of him. You met his calm gaze, finding in it the shadow of chaos, reflecting his soul.

Your eyes wandered over his attire, and with a calculated, gentle touch, you adjusted the rose on his chest before gracing him with a faint smile.

“Look at you,” you began, taking a step back, creating a clear distance between you. “Remember when you used to fear Dr. Gaul? And now, what have you become?” your next question followed swiftly, with no pause for his response.

“You're the man who sends innocent kids to their deaths every year, a cruel reminder to the districts of who hold the power, who is in control. And I? I'm just one of the instruments in your hands.”

Your words hung in the air, and as Coriolanus opened his mouth to respond, you silenced him with an unspoken urgency. “You might tell yourself that you can sleep soundly, shifting the responsibility onto me and my team, washing your hands clean of the blood. But deep down, you know it's a lie, don't you?”

Coriolanus met your gaze, a blend of defiance and self-denial in his eyes. He had always been skilled at pushing the truth aside, shielding himself from the reality he had become.

“You're mistaken,” he finally said, his voice tensed. “I have a duty to maintain order, to ensure the Capitol's dominance. The Games are a means to an end, a necessary evil.”

Your expression remained unwavering as you countered, “But do you truly believe that, Coryo? Do you truly believe it's as simple as maintaining order? The depths of cruelty we've reached, the horrors we've unleashed, they go beyond mere necessity.”

He opened his mouth to respond, to argue his case further, but a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes, betraying the internal struggle within. The truth you had spoken, the darkness he had tried to repress, clawed at the edges of his conscience.

“That's what I thought,” you said with a note of satisfaction in your eyes, and resumed presenting your plan as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Coriolanus' confusion. However, the shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable, and the unspoken tension lingered.

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 4 months

Text

Manner Matters - Irene Red Velvet × Male Reader

Rape/Non-con, Slight Violence, Blackmail, Pussy Fuck, Creampie

Red Velvet Irene

2,769 Words

The traffic jam devours almost an hour of your precious time because some dumbass had to go and have an accident right when you've got some important shit to do. As an independent plumber, you don't often get offers from big companies with the potential for the fattest paycheck you've seen in your five years of plumbing.

Today, you've already spat out more curses than you can count, and it's still morning. You don't even dare glance at the clock as you pull into the company compound. You know you're way beyond late, but you're still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, the company will cut you some slack and be open to negotiation.

Your buddy who recommended you to this gig mentioned that you'd be working alongside other hired folks, and you're cool with that. You just need to get in. As you navigate the jam-packed parking lot, filled to the brim with vehicles, you catch sight of a lone empty spot.

Relief floods through you like a tidal wave. Just as you start easing your truck into the spot, a blue KIA Niro zooms past you and snatches the parking space right out from under your nose. Your blood boils as you stick your head out and let out a deafening honk at that little shitbox on wheels.

Nonchalantly stepping out of the car is a chick in a pink mini-dress. The blaring honks from your truck go completely unnoticed by her as she bends down inside her car, rummaging for God knows what.

She's practically flashing her panties in your face, but your anger drowns out any horny thoughts. This woman acts like she owns the whole world. She slams her car door shut and starts fussing with her hair, using the dark-tinted window as a mirror.

You leap out of your truck and march toward her, yelling, "Hey! Are you fucking deaf? Blind too? Didn't you see I was here first?"

Finally, she glances back, acknowledging your existence with a condescending stare. Her eyes sweep over your lumberjack shirt, snug jeans, and brown hiking boots, and she clicks her tongue in disgust.

"You do know you can find another parking spot, right? Don't waste my precious time," she says, well aware that she snatched someone else's spot but completely unapologetic about it. Fueled by rage, you grab her bare shoulder just as she tries to walk away. In an instant, she spins around and slaps you hard across the face. "Don't you fucking touch me, you filthy man!"

With her insult echoing in your head, the woman struts off, leaving you speechless. "What a fucking bitch," you mutter under your breath as you trudge back to your truck. Ain't got time for this bullshit.

You would've parked your truck right behind her car out of pure spite, but that would block two more innocent vehicles, so you reluctantly spend another ten minutes finding a random parking lot nearby. Then you have to trek your ass back to this damn company.

The hiring is going down on the last two top floors, and let's just say you're swiftly shown the door without any second chances. Instead of feeling disappointed, though, you're just straight-up pissed. You're furious that it's etched into your expression, and your teeth are grinding together so hard it's a wonder they don't crack.

You sit in the lobby for what feels like an eternity, spacing out and seething with rage. Finally, you rise from your seat and leave like some damn aimless robot. Your destination? That woman's fucking car.

If it's gone, so be it. But if it's still there... You don't even know what you'll do. By some twisted stroke of luck, that woman is once again checking herself out in the side mirror. Now, as you endure the crushing weight of losing everything, her provocative outfit starts whispering all sorts of evil and nasty shit in your ears.

"Yah, woman," you calmly call out to her.

She turns around, clearly annoyed, and when she recognizes your face, she rolls her eyes. "Really? I already told you not to waste my time."

"Apologize. Once you do that, I'll fucking disappear from your sight like a ghost," you demand, your voice dripping with restrained fury.

She scoffs, her arrogance still in full force. "You want me to apologize? To a filthy man like—"

Without another word, you grip her whole face with one hand, silencing her. You've had enough of her shitty attitude. Then, you slam her back against the side of her car. She pricks your hand, feeble and panicked, as if her weak-ass strength could make a difference.

"Hmph! Mm!" She struggles within your grasp, hitting your arms in a futile attempt to break free. During her feeble attack, her purse slips from her grip and falls to the ground.

However, your attention is diverted by the search for any potential witnesses. You scan the surroundings but find no one in sight. Glancing back down at the woman, you tighten your grip on her face, causing her complexion to grow redder with each passing moment.

A swell of anger transforms into lust as you admire the beauty of her face. "It's such a shame that you're nothing but a bitch," you chuckle, a twisted amusement in your voice. "But who gives a damn? A woman like you needs to be taught a fucking lesson." You can't help but laugh at the double meaning of your statement.

Fear takes hold of the woman, and she shakes her head in a desperate plea for mercy. Checking the area one final time to ensure there are no witnesses, you deliver a powerful punch directly to her gut. The impact is excruciating, causing her knees to buckle, but she can't muster a scream.

Straightening her up, you strike her stomach once more, this time aiming a little to the left. She coughs against your palm, her eyes widening as she blinks slowly. Releasing your grip on her face, you swiftly backhand her, sending her sprawling sideways to the ground.

Unsatisfied with the outcome, you use the roof of her car for balance as you unleash a relentless barrage of kicks to her abdomen and thighs, following it up with brutal stomps to her ribs.

Silenced by the pain, she is unable to call for help. Her chest tightens, making it difficult to draw in a proper breath as consciousness slips away. Your final blow lands squarely on her pelvis, rendering her unconscious in an instant.

"Know your damn place, you snobby whore." Right when you're about to stomp on her again, a ringing flares from her purse. Grabbing the purse on the ground, you dig out her phone. "Kim Taeyeon..." you mutter the caller's name, glancing at the woman on the ground before letting the call end. A message pops up on the screen.

- why aren't you answering?

- whatever irene-ssi…

- come to the office this evening

- or you'll get in trouble

You smash her phone on the ground and start rummaging through her purse. It's just a bunch of random crap until you stumble upon her ID. "Bae Joohyun... What the fuck is Irene then? Celebrity wannabe bitch and a goddamn hag at that," you snicker, mocking her for being in her thirties already, and pocket her car key.

Opening the driver's seat, you toss her stuff inside. After closing the door, you take a moment to look at Irene. Her mini-skirt has ridden up, revealing her smooth and curvy ass. Your teeth scrape across your lower lip as your gaze travels over her milky thighs and slender legs, making your cock throb.

You pop open the back door and squat down. You hoist Irene up from the ground, draping her body over your shoulder and giving her ass a grab. Lifting her legs, you shove her into the car. One leg ends up hanging off the seat while the other leans against the backrest, knees spreading wide.

Irene's dress does nothing to protect her down there anymore. It is a priceless sight, seeing her in such a helpless state. The perfect payback for what she had done to you. And now, you can finally unleash all your built-up frustration on her body as much as you want.

Unbuckling your belt is a piece of cake, even though your hungry eyes are glued on her cameltoe. Climbing onto the seat, you shut the door and kick off your jeans and boxers in one swift motion. Having a knee resting on the seat, you position yourself between her legs.

Giving her hand on her chest a slap to the side, you squeeze her tits through the thin fabric and mold them however you like. Your rock-hard cock presses against her dangling thigh, seeking temporary enjoyment.

You are eager to fuck her pussy as you tear her lace panties. Irene's snatch is fully exposed, a thin layer of pubic hair offering no protection. But merely dominating her body isn't enough. While rubbing her clit with one hand, you smack her face with the other, careful to avoid the bruised side from the backhand earlier. The sound of the impact reverberates in the car.

"Wake up, bitch! Don't think you're getting off easy," you declare, delivering another slap.

Irene begins to stir, hissing in pain as she grimaces. You gather her wrists in one hand and pin them above her head. As she regains full consciousness, the first thing she sees is your face, and then she feels the invading sensation between her legs, causing her eyes to widen.

"You feeling that, huh?" you taunt, pressing your thumb harder against her clit while two fingers graze her slit.

Irene glances down at her pussy. "Get the hell away from me, you creepy fuck!" she shouts, trying to push you away, only to realize that you already had her hands under control. Closing her legs is her next instinct, but you are placed between them.

She is trapped and helpless, her voice her only weapon to resist you, though it seems futile. "Let me go! You disgusting piece of shit! Fuck! Get off me! You filthy, crazy fucker!"

She glances upwards, scanning for any sign of someone outside the car, anywhere. You cease playing with her pussy and deliver a powerful punch to her cheekbone. Instantly, she sees stars, groaning in agony. Cupping her face, you force her to meet your glare.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch! One more word from that foul mouth of yours, and I'll ruin your pretty face," you warn, ensuring she understands the seriousness of your threat.

"Fuck you! You think I'm scared!?" Irene yells defiantly, spitting in your eyes. That's it. She won't understand until she experiences it firsthand.

You release her hands and proceed to choke her. She struggles to pry your hand away, unaware of your true intentions. Fueled by anger, you unleash a torrent of punches upon Irene's face, repeatedly striking her cheeks, chin, and nose.

Her desperate hands gradually move to shield her face, but it's too late. You deliver one final, forceful blow directly under her eyes. Blood streams from her nose, her lips are split on both sides, and bruises emerge on her cheeks, with one eye swelling shut.

When you finally cease, Irene's trembling hands, raised in front of her face, betray her fear, and her breathing becomes rapid and shallow. The sight of her tears brings an absurd sense of satisfaction. Once again, you pin her hands above her head and spit on her wounded face.

You wipe your bloodied knuckles on her dress, marking the end of your assault. Before leaving her, you strike her ribs with a single punch. Irene groans in pain, attempting to recoil, but you firmly grasp her hip and straighten her body.

"No need for your pathetic face anyway. I'll rape your nasty cunt until you learn the meaning of respect," you declare, thrusting two fingers into her pussy, causing her to jerk in shock as you scratch her insides.

Both of you tremble as you vigorously finger-fuck her, causing her legs to tense up. Despite the pain and discomfort, Irene manages to whimper weakly. Her eyes slightly roll up, blinking with feebleness. Her face becomes numb while her pussy continues to be manipulated, causing her body to squirm from side to side. It doesn't take long for Irene to naturally become wet.

As you withdraw your hand, soaked with her urine, you forcefully shove it into her already-opened mouth. "You're nothing but a filthy whore," you insult her, delivering a smack to her breasts.

"N-No... Stop! Don't hurt— Ugh!"

You choke her and guide your cock along her slit before forcefully thrusting it deep inside her pussy in one powerful motion. She's incredibly tight for a bitch, her inner walls gripping your girth. Fully burying your cock inside her, you firmly grasp her toned thigh and gaze down, relishing the sight of her stretched pussy.

"Take it, slut. I'm going to fill you up until you can't spout shit ever again."

You commence rocking your hips back and forth, and your cock penetrates her as deeply as possible, exerting all your strength with each rough jab. As you choke Irene, gripping her windpipe, she can only emit groans while your anger finds release, your balls loudly slapping against her asshole.

Her pussy tightens around your cock as her breathing becomes increasingly difficult. Her toes curl inside her heels, and her hands weakly tap your arm, begging for release from your grip on her neck. But all you do is chuckle at her pitiful state while continuing to fuck her reddened cunt.

Her disheveled face still annoys you, especially as you recall her shitty behavior, but you can't deny the incredible sensation of her pussy. Sensing the impending orgasm, you release your grip on her neck and sit up straight, firmly grasping her waist.

Irene coughs painfully and gasps for air. Her pussy is being stretched even further than before, and she pleads, "S-stop... Pull out—Shit, just fucking stop!"

"Fuck you, bitch. I'm gonna make sure you never forget this day," you declare, hooking an arm under her knee and pushing it towards her chest.

Leaning forward, you exert all your weight onto her as you continue thrusting your cock into her tight pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin resonates through the car, even causing the vehicle to shake, accompanied by your loud grunt as your climax reaches its peak.

"Ahh... Don't you dare! N-No... please—Ohh!"

With one final powerful thrust, you slam into her and release your fresh load deep inside her womb. Moaning in pure ecstasy, your entire body trembles as you impregnate the arrogant woman who has shattered your golden opportunity.

Irene's head slumps to the side as she takes in your load. The pain on her body and face fades into the background as thoughts of what comes next start creeping in. Meanwhile, you come down from your high and let out a laugh before pulling your dick out with a satisfying 'plop'. Her pussy oozes out an excess of cum.

You ain't dumb enough to just leave her like that. You reach down to grab your phone from your jeans on the floor and snap a few quick shots in succession. You capture her used and swollen pussy, dripping with cum, and finish it off with a picture of her messed-up face.

Irene tries to reach out to you, her weak and sore body struggling. "What the fuck are you doing...? Ain't you had enough, you bastard!?"

You jump to her side and grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her up. "Listen up, bitch. If you try any shit, these nasty pictures are gonna spread like wildfire in this whole district." You show her the explicit shots of her pussy.

"I got plenty of friends who'd pay a fortune for this kind of shit." Tapping your phone against her head, you continue, "So you better show me some goddamn respect next time we cross paths, got it? I'll see you around then, Ma'am Joohyun."

Can't make out Irene's expression under all the beat-up bruises. Not that you care. You got her right where you want her. You shove her back onto the seat and give her a solid knee to the gut, a final warning. She doubles over in pain.

Pulling up your jeans, you spit on her and bounce out of the car. Nobody is around as you fix yourself up, sporting a wicked grin as you walk away.

#kpop smut #irene smut #non con smut #male reader #kpop gg #red velvet smut #hardcore smut #irene #irene red velvet #kpop girls

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teacheesee · 9 months

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hiii can i request a reader x luffy fic on how luffy would act if the reader like fell asleep on his shoulder or something? thank uu😸😸

oh anon i went above and beyond for you… tysm for this cuteeeee request mwahhh •.*

monster trio x gn reader - falling asleep on their shoulders!

warnings: fluff, zoros is a little teensie weensie bit suggestive leave me alone, no pronouns used!

luffy

On the plush couch of your apartment, Luffy’s leg shook in excitement as he queued up a movie for you two to watch while you ate the take-out you ordered. He was ready to eat, and ready to watch one of his favorite movies with you. You got up, heading towards the kitchen.

“What do you want to drink, Luffy?”

“Anything is fine, water, quick quick you gotta watch this part, it’s important!” He brought the takeout box to his chin, using his chopsticks to pile an ungodly amount of noodles into his mouth. You smiled at him from behind the counter, taking in the sweet ambiance.

You two had just started dating a few weeks ago, and moments like this were so fun to share, so simple. You walked back and sat next to him, your legs brushing him with the proximity. You could feel him tense at the feeling, still not used to how he got to be near you whenever he wanted, but he relaxed quickly, his leg moving to bump yours in a playful acknowledgement. You smiled as you ate, quickly becoming transfixed at the tv screen.

Half of the movie later, your stomach full and eyes drooping, your head began to drop. You quickly would jerk it back up, but it was becoming impossible to stay awake, and the cycle kept continuing. After a cool moment in the movie, Luffy turned to you to see your reaction.

“Wasn’t that co--” he started, interrupted with how cute you looked, illuminated by the blue glow of the tv, eyes closed and head tilting down, fighting to stay awake. He took a deep breath and turned back to the tv fighting a smile, you were so beautiful and he couldn’t believe you were his. Even when he thought that this night couldn’t get any better, you proved him wrong as your head lolled onto his shoulder. Your destination finally made, you fell into a proper sleep, your steady breaths ghosting his shoulder. Reaching to pause the movie, Luffy returned to you and brought his head to rest atop yours.

He looked at you, his arm wrapping under yours to hold your hand gently, basking in the knowledge that he was the only one you trusted to hold you like this.

“We can finish it tomorrow.”

zoro

“Man, I’m beat,” you huffed, dropping your bag on the floor. Kicking off your shoes at the entry way, you stumbled into your apartment. Zoro was sitting in the living room, watching tv after his afternoon workout, by the looks of his clothes.

“Long day?” he asked, pausing the show to hear your response.

You sighed, “Guess. I’m gonna shower, you coming or what?”

“Guess.”

You sat in your bed, leaning against the headboard, book in hand. Zoro was next to you, sitting beside you but his eyes closed, nodding in and out of sleep. The book you had found was so good, but the long day you had was really catching up with you, and fast. To your credit, you had gotten a few chapters read before the book slipped from your hands and fell onto your lap. With the movement, Zoro cracked an eye open. Your head was tilted back, face relaxed as sleep began to take over you. Zoro grinned, sneaking his arm behind your shoulders, his hand pulling your head towards his. He pressed a kiss to your head while he massaged your scalp gently, urging you deeper into your well-earned sleep.

sanji

The car ride home in the taxi was pretty quiet, save for the occasional stray question asked by the driver, and the soft music that played from the front of the car. After the day-long string of activities Sanji had planned, ending at one of your favorite bars, you were ready to go home and catch some sleep before undoubtedly seeing him again tomorrow. It was only your second date tonight, but it was going so well that it felt like you’ve known him forever. You and Sanji sat side by side in the taxi, his hand resting on his thigh, pinky outstretched and linked with yours. The rock of the car was gentle as the tick of the highway played a steady rhythm, warm yellow street lights casting quick shadows across your bodies.

His hand snaked around your arm, now fully holding your hand. “So did you have fun tonight, my love?” You looked at him, him returning your gaze. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then opting to settle your head on the crook of his shoulder. He tilted down to help you settle there, feeling your cheeks rise as a smile rested on your lips.

“So is that a yes?”

You hummed in response, eyes closing as you began to nod off. Sanji smiled, his head tilting back against the headrest. A few minutes later, the driver pulled onto your street.

“Excuse me?” Sanji asked. The driver looked back. “How much for you to keep driving a little longer?”

a/n: thank you sm for this awesome silly tres cute little baby fic it was so fun to write (i need sanji in a way that sets feminism back). please send me more requests but!!! if yours includes a character i haven’t met in the show (i’m at thriller bark) it might take a little while longer bc idk how to write them yet. patience is a virtue, kitties. okay meow (cat saying ciao) •.*

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

who could stay? (you could stay.) (eddie munson x reader)

summary: you're convinced that being loved comes with a cost. he finds a way to prove you wrong. (wc: 9.7k+)

order up! i've got one ash's special for anonymous. ♡

Keep going, keep going, keep going.

Agree to run that errand for someone. Offer a shoulder to cry on for that person. Fix that problem for this friend. Keep going, keep offering, keep becoming indispensable.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact age you’d figured out the formula. You can never know for sure if the day was sunny or if it were rainy, if it were a calm December morning or a buzzing July night, but those details aren’t very important. The only important detail is that you had finally cracked the code at some point – you had finally figured out the solution to feeling unlovable. And that was that, truthfully, there wasn’t a solution. Once you were destined to feel this way, to feel so sour at your core, there is no easy way to rid yourself of that rotten pit. It would always be there – always churning, always burning, always yearning. Yearning to be loved, yearning to feel those waves of warmth cascading over your brain and down your spine, the ones others had always described to you but you’d just never… experienced. Never became familiar with.

It felt like everyone was playing an over-elaborate prank on you. They’d all conspired against you, invented a false feeling in which someone claims to feel loved, only to sit back and watch as you fumbled to find it. They’d laughed as you dug through a graveyard of relationships, caked your fingernails with dirt as you sobbed and would continue to claw deeper, trying to find just one set of bones that might hold that warmth for you.

The only solution to that detrimental feeling of being unlovable, was to feel needed.

You needed to feel so necessary, so essential, to everyone around you at all times. It never mattered how much of you it took. You’d give away every piece of yourself a million times over just to feel wanted at some capacity, even if that capacity were one you’d forced upon the other person. You didn’t care if you’d built the glass cages of theirs – you just cared that they kept you around to wipe away any smudges that appeared.

Being wanted wasn’t quite the same as being loved. And if you thought about that for too long or too often, you might just break irrevocably.

“I just don’t understand him,” Nancy sighs from the head of your bed, reclining against a wall of pillows you’d lined your headboard with. Two of which were body pillows. Long tubes of fluff to try and fill lonely spaces, you suppose, “Why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to go to the same college? Why… Why do I feel like I am forcing him to be with me?”

Because you are. Just like I force you all to need me.

“I don’t know, Nance.”

That bland, bitter, half-thought out answer lingers on your tongue, almost burns your throat with the whisper of say more, say something useful, say something comforting. It’s the whisper of those four words not being enough. It’s the whisper of that threat that those four words could be the beginning of the end, the thing that makes Nancy realize she doesn’t need you.

After all, what use is a friend that can’t give good advice, or be supportive during relationship rants?

You open your mouth to add on something sweeter, something to coat the conversation like honey and smooth out the lines forming on Nancy’s forehead, but she beats you to it, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Yes. “It’s fine,” at least that wasn’t a lie – you’d dug this specific grave, had rooted down tooth and nail only to find another empty coffin of a friendship curtained with want instead of love. You’d all but asked for this, “What he did really was shitty. It’s not fair to you.”

The words are almost robotic, telling Nancy Wheeler what she wants to hear rather than what she needs to hear. You don’t always do that, you do make a point of investing in the truth from time to time to truly secure your position as someone who is genuinely needed in her life, but the headache nagging at your temples tells you it’s not worth the fight tonight. You’re tired, you’re agitated, and you really just want to get Nancy to the point of contentment in her rambling so that you can send her on her way.

God, you’re an awful friend.

It turns you quiet, a ricocheting thought that bruises your inner skull the rest of the time Nancy sits on your bed. The guilt eats you alive for that moment of irritation the rest of the night. Even after Nancy goes home, even after you’ve brushed your teeth and you’ve tucked yourself into bed. The guilt gnaws on the edges of that emptiness inside of you, that ever-present black hole that already existed, and says this is why you cannot be loved.

Maybe the pity party for feeling like a bad friend is what makes you a bad friend.

And maybe if you were a better friend, you would be loved instead of wanted for once.

It’s all part of a cycle, never-ending and treacherous. It’s always been this way. You make promises to your friends and rip yourself to shreds before remolding yourself into whatever they need; giving rides to the younger kids within your circle to the pool all summer which evolved into taking turns with Steve as to who would pick them all up after their D&D club ran late every Friday night, always lending a listening ear to Nancy once Johnathan moved away and she’d had to witness her relationship and her love vanishing in real time, always being the one person who will listen to Robin ramble for hours about her sudden interests. None of it was born of ill-intent, but when you’d go home lonesome at the end of the night, you could see it all for what it was.

You were trying to fill a void. A hollow rot, a black hole. And it was only working half the time.

Half the time, until he came along.

And make no mistake, his arrival was as bloody as anyone who had previously entered your life. For a while there, you believed his headstone was at the end of the line already, sanctioned away in this graveyard of the ability to be loved. He came crashing into your life on a random Friday night, and you had sworn you could already see the end as it began, but you had been wrong.

“So, you’re the infamous babysitter.”

His voice caught you off guard. You’d been sitting in your car with your windows down, enjoying the reprieve of a cooling autumn evening as you waited for the boys to finish up with their D&D club. With your head buried in the latest sci-fi novel that Dustin had recommended and would no doubt be grilling you on once he got in the car, you hadn’t even heard the club exit the school.

“Nope,” you fought a smile as you glanced up from the pages to see an older guy standing there, closer to yours and Steve’s age than the kids. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this was the famous Eddie all the boys would ramble on about for hours on end, “Harrington’s the babysitter. I’m just the taxi driver.”

There was something particularly pretty in the way he threw his head back with laughter at your words. Curls that messily fell just beyond his shoulders, full lips disappearing as his teeth peeked through and shined beneath the parking lot’s lamp posts. His denim vest looked purposefully distressed with a mirage of patches and pins, and he was wearing a leather jacket beneath it, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough for it yet outside. He was cute – and watching him laugh because of you sparked something irreversible inside of you.

“C’mon now,” he sighed as his cackles quieted, “Give yourself more credit than that. At least call yourself something fancy, like ‘chauffeur’.”

“Ah, but ‘taxi driver’ insinuates that I charge them,” you don’t miss a beat, and your quick wit has him chuckling again.

You caught sight of his eyes, corners creased with joy – brown. They were deep, russet, tantalizing brown. Almost indiscernible from his pupil in the dark.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You took his hand that he shoved through your open window with ease, and felt an immediate shiver run down your spine. Not quite from the cold, but not quite warm. You saw the first flash of his grave, and you knew you’d be digging your greedy hands into it soon enough.

As you gave him your name in return, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone.

You had been half right that night. You wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone, you would be seeking out the impossible from Eddie – but so would he.

It quickly became apparent that Eddie was a pest. Someone who weaseled his way into the lives of others, who made his presence felt and never forgotten.

You’d started with the same slow dance as you did with every new person, a hesitant dipping of your toes into their waters, unsure if your presence in their life would only cause more trouble than you’re worth, when you quickly discovered that nothing could ever be hesitant or slow with Eddie Munson. He’s the one constantly reaching out to you. Driving the kids home now takes double the time it used to, long conversations being had with him that has the kids dragging you away, practically begging to just be taken home. The day he’d asked for your number, you couldn’t tell which one of you burned brighter red. And the moment he had your number in his clutches? Forget about it. You never heard the end of Eddie Munson, and you never really wanted to.

Unlike your friends you already had and loved deeply, Eddie was observant.

It’s within the first month of knowing you that he had picked up on your insecurities. Maybe he hadn’t directly seen that gaping hole in your chest yet, but he noticed your habit of running yourself dry to see others thrive.

The need to be needed. He picked up on it quickly.

“What about Sunday?” Eddie’s voice traveled over the line as you laid on your stomach, stretched out across your bed for a few moments of rest before you had to get up and take the cookies you’d baked for Steve and Robin into Family Video, just like you had promised, “I’m free then if I finish all my fuckin’ homework on Saturday night.”

Surprisingly, that phone call with Eddie hadn’t been something expected or planned. It had been impulsive; in a rare moment of peace, you found yourself craving to hear his voice. Somehow, the two of you had ended up trying to figure out a free day to properly hang out. Eddie wanted to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, and you wouldn’t turn down the free fries he also promised.

“I can’t,” you paused just to hear his predictably dramatic sigh, grinning as you continued to explain, “I’m taking Max to the skatepark that day.”

“And it’s going to take all day?”

“It could!”

“There’s absolutely no way.”

“You clearly haven’t seen that girl skate.”

The conversation continued, light-hearted enough with plentiful jokes made. Something about talking with Eddie made your heart lighter, the usual unbearable and contradictory weight of emptiness no longer on your mind as you listened to him ramble about something that had happened in one of his classes – a teacher tried to embarrass him when he caught Eddie doodling for a D&D campaign by asking him a question, not expecting him to know the answer. Eddie had, of course, leaving the teacher baffled with a smirk.

It’s all about my charm, sweetheart, he responded when you asked how he hadn’t earned a detention from that.

Only towards the end of the call, when the conversation finally lulled and the two of you found yourselves settled into a comfortable silence, did Eddie finally circle back to the beginning of your conversation.

“You know,” he started, “When I first met you, I never took you to be someone so…”

“Amazing? Wonderful? Funny?” you jokingly attempted to finish his sentence.

“Busy.”

Oh. You hadn’t expected that one.

“Busy?” you repeated back to him, “I’m not that busy.”

Your mind immediately started racing with thoughts of what he had meant. Was he feeling neglected? Maybe you should have canceled on Max on Sunday, agreed to Benny’s with him instead. No, you couldn’t bear Max’s disappointment. Maybe you could tell Max you had a time constraint, even though you knew she hated those when it came to her skating days. Was there any other plans you could abandon? Anyone else you could bear to let down for the sake of not leaving Eddie high and dry? No, no – all your other weekend plans involved going to the movies with Robin, helping Steve look into colleges finally, taking the boys to the Starcourt mall to shop for supplies to make figurines for their newest campaign. The room was suddenly getting smaller, your chest constricting, your head spinning. You couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing any of those people, no, but what about Eddie? Maybe he was right in feeling neglected, maybe you deserved whatever guilt was to come from whatever his next words would be. He was your friend, you were supposed to make time for h-

“Sweetheart,” he scoffed over the line, and you swore you heart stopped right then and there, “You’re the highest thing in demand since Cabbage Patch Kids last Christmas – and trust me, I should know how in demand those fuckers were. I worked seasonally at the mall, remember?”

Your breath caught. He was feeling neglected. You weakly began your apology as tears were already filling your eyes, that panic turning over itself in your gut, “I’m-”

“And it’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong,” It’s clear your voice had been too soft, too weak, for him to hear you, “Just means I’ve gotta fight harder to be worth your time, am I right?”

You had to clear your throat, but it did nothing to subsidize that anxiety that rattled your bones. It’s blatantly evident as your voice shook with a second attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean- I can… I’ll… Just tell me when for Benny’s. I can make it work, I swear-”

“Woah, woah, woah.”

He had to have heard the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. The shake of your breath as you’d stuttered over your words, grasping for a solution.

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” his voice was soothing and soft, the most gentle it had been the entire night. You pinched your eyes shut and just tried to imagine those stupid, big doe eyes, those ungodly messy curls (you’d started to tease him about if he ever even brushed or combed them). The panic remained, but Eddie’s voice started to give it a run for its money, “I was just playing around. You know that, right?” he paused to give you room to answer, but your throat was still tightly squeezed by overwhelming emotion, overwhelming fear of having scorned Eddie, “You could only have enough time in your schedule to see me once a year, and I’d still be your friend. We could only have these random phone calls, even if they were never longer than a minute, and you’d still be worth it. You know that, right?” Another pause, another wave of silence from your end, “Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.”

Each word made the panic settle. You weren’t sure how he did it. You weren’t sure how mortified you should be that he had only been in your life for a month at most, and had just overheard you at your most vulnerable.

All you were sure of was that you believed him.

“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling that ring of fear loosen, vocal chords finally functioning once more.

“Okay,” Eddie repeated back in that same gentle, soothing, soft tone.

You weren’t disappointing him. You weren’t making him feel neglected. He still found use for you, he still wanted you around – he still needed your friendship. That had to be enough.

It was quiet over the line for a few moments.

It has to be enough, you reminded yourself.

“Say,” you finally said, voice back to normal strength and the tears having dried themselves up for the most part. Your heart had almost returned to normal rhythm, “How does Benny’s sound tonight?”

“Tonight?” he chimed back, sounding as excited as a little kid the morning of a cherished holiday, something like Christmas.

A shiver ran down your spine. It’s not from the cold, and you tell yourself it’s not quite warmth �� it can’t be warmth.

“Tonight,” you confirmed, “With a detour by Family Video, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a special delivery of cookies to fulfill.”

“What kind?”

“Excuse me?”

You were grinning - God, you were a pathetic fool, grinning and clutching onto that phone like a lifeline. Like if you let go of it, you’d lose his voice, and if you lost his voice, that would be the end of the world.

“What kind of cookies?”

“Chocolate chip.”

He hummed, not answering right away as if he were deliberating this information. When he finally spoke again, another shiver wrapped around your spine, spinning down, down down. Waves of what you almost believed were warmth. “Okay. I suppose I can be your taxi driver, for a price.”

“What’s your price?”

“One cookie.”

“Deal.”

It had to be enough, because you were still clutching that telephone tightly to your cheek, long after the phone call ended with Eddie’s promise of being at your house soon enough. It had to be enough, because after that night, it became clear; the world would not end with the loss of just Eddie’s voice from your life, but the loss of Eddie, period. It was the first night of many in which you played a very, very dangerous game.

Even with Nancy gone, you felt restless. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer in all that self-pity, still replaying the night and all you could have done differently.

Had she caught on with how out of it you had been? Had she seen through your act and immediately assumed the worst – assumed you weren’t worth keeping around?

The thoughts might be an overreaction.

You were definitely overreacting.

You didn’t really care that you were overreacting, though, because you really couldn’t control it. It was just another dark path you couldn’t stop your mind from traveling down. It was endless, and it was lonesome, and… and it was just normal. What should be devolving into a panic attack can only settle like an emptiness deep within your chest; you’ve been staring at the blank wall of your living room for so long without blinking, your eyes have gone dry.

A pattern. That’s what the therapist said. You had a pattern for overthinking these interactions, for projecting feelings onto others that didn’t exist. You think all your friends hate you, you think that a stranger found your smile to be more of a grimace, you think your mom hasn’t called in months because she recognizes you as a failure finally. But none of it is actually what those people think. It’s like a mirror – you look into the eyes of others, and you see all your own insecurities reflected back.

She’d asked you to work on it. To take a step back and just breathe, just remind yourself of that, whenever this happens. You’d decide whether you’d mention this minor slip up later. For now, you were going to wallow. You were going to spiral with just you, this damn blank wall, and maybe even the bottle of wine in the fridge.

Yes, your mind was made up, and you force yourself to stand from the couch and wander into the kitchen, eyes still dry and chest still caving in on itself as you open the fridge.

That’s as far as you get. Your fridge is wide open, the bright luminescent light flooding your kitchen floor in time with the trickling chill that sneaks up on your warm cheeks and already numb toes, when you spot it.

A box of takeout. It’s old enough now you could throw it out, you had known the moment he’d taken the last of his meal to-go that he wouldn’t finish it. Teased him about it, even. But he was stubborn and you weren’t capable of turning down the opportunity to let another piece of him, another flash of evidence of his place in your life, occupy this apartment. So there it sat, a half-eaten burger he hadn’t revisited.

But he had revisited the apartment – revisited you. He’d been here every night this week, and you’d practically had to shove him out on the street to get him to leave this morning to get to work on time.

The edges of that emptiness that weighs down your insides blur, already lightening microscopically as you slam shut the fridge and forgo the wine completely to grab the phone instead.

“You don’t have to always take care of everyone, you know,” he murmured as he joined you in the kitchen to retrieve popcorn for the gang, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie night.

“Pardon?” you asked, hardly glancing over your shoulder as you punched in the designated time for the microwave to turn the kernels into an easy, mouth-watering snack of butter and crunch.

“You always take care of everyone. You don’t have to.”

His words rang clearer that time, loud enough to have stopped you in your tracks. You paused mid-reach, the cabinet for the Harrington’s bowls wide open and shelves nearly too tall for you.

“I-” you weren’t sure exactly what to say, “What do you mean?”

His brows scrunched, eyes having narrowed in the slightest in your direction, “Please don’t play dumb right now.”

“I’m not playing dumb. I’m trying to get popcorn for our movie night,” you waved your hand towards the shelves lined with bowls for emphasis on your point, “That’s not really taking care of everyone – it was just being polite. Steve’s hosting, it’s the least I can do.”

“The least you can do? The least you can do is actually just sit with friends, enjoy the movie,” the crease between his brow deepened, eyeing you with an unfamiliar concern. You shifted beneath the weight of his gaze.

You don’t know what to say. Except, “It’s not that serious.”

He scoffed, and you nearly flinched from it. Fear threatened to bubble up – he’s upset, he’s getting irritated at you. He’s getting tired of you.

You waited for him to say something more as the buzz of the microwave filled the tense space, but he remained silent. Brooding.

“What?” your voice shook, your entire being torn between succumbing to all that fear and anxiety in upsetting him further and that voice in the back of your mind that urged you to push him, to hear what he really thought. “I know you have something more to say.”

“In the six months I’ve known you, you haven’t taken a single break for yourself.”

He met your push, stood his ground and didn’t let it put any distance between you two. It felt like a goddamn revelation, right there in the Harrington kitchen.

“I take plenty of breaks, Eddie,” you tried to laugh off, “I do spend time away from you all, hard as that may be to belie-”

“Hardly,” he cut you off as sharply as the first resonating pop that echoed from the microwave.

“What’s your point? I just like being around you guys. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”

This was the part where the distance would happen. You kept pushing, took the inch he’d given you to bite back and ran with it. Normally, you avoided conflict with any of your friends vehemently. Always afraid, always assuming the relationships to be so fragile and so delicate. You would take such care in never giving them a reason to hate you that you’d never taken to a battleground before.

But there had been a look in Eddie’s eyes that night. A shine that, breaking through all the worry for you, whispered, fight with me. Stand your ground with me. I’ll still call you tomorrow, no matter what words we exchange tonight.

A safety net had formed that you’d never even noticed. That delicacy wasn’t needed here. You could pick up the sword, there in that kitchen, and it wouldn’t turn Eddie to smoke and shadows.

“My point is…” he paused, he swallowed hard, he exhibited the delicacy that was usually expected from you, “You can like being around us. But you should put yourself first. At least once. At least on movie night.”

“How is me making popcorn not putting myself first?” you got the question out, you took a deep breath, ready to go on some sort of defensive tirade for your habit you were well aware of.

He beat you to it, “Every day last week, you only got three hours of sleep, at most, before your shifts. You gave up sleep to hang out with us all way too late, refused to throw in the towel and go home before anyone else.”

“I could have napped-”

“You didn’t nap,” he stressed, taking a step closer to you. The popping of the snack turning in the microwave was erratic, mere seconds left on the timer. Static noise to the conversation at hand, “I know you didn’t fucking nap after your shifts because you were immediately running errands for everyone else, or hanging out again. You offered to give Robin a ride to work every single day, and her shifts start… what, an hour after yours ended? And then you had to give her rides home, right? But in those hours she was at work, you were helping Dustin with an essay for school – that little fucker told me all about it. You were awake when Johnathan called you and we were all stoned off our asses, went and got us food we didn’t need but still wanted. We didn’t even expect you to pick up, you know? I told them, I swore to them, you wouldn’t pick up. You had a morning shift. You were scheduled literal hours from when we called you. But you picked up. You fucking picked up, and you went and got the fucking food for us fucking idiots.”

Your brain completely malfunctioned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was saying all of these things that should be good things, things that proved you were needed and you were reliable, but with such venom in his tone.

Anger had sparked within you as you pictured how giddy Dustin had been over the B he’d earned on his essay, that sincere appreciation on Robin’s face every time she left your car last week, the dopey grin that Argyle had worn when you’d arrived with their food order in your pajamas. All previously things to fuel you, filling that aching hole inside of you, now being tarnished because he was concerned.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you seethed at him, “Would you prefer I hadn’t been awake? Would you prefer I let Dustin just… get a fucking F on that essay? Or Robin walks to work?”

“Yes!”

You were both shocked at the sudden volume in your voices. The quickness in his reply. The quiver in your lip.

“Yes,” he breathed out, quieter this time, “I would prefer those things if it meant you were taking care of yourself. The word ‘no’ should be in your vocabulary, sweetheart. I… The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.”

But you all needing me might.

“Just… just…” your breaths came out in huffs, eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Eddie’s stare. A final push, and it came out more fragile than you’d ever intended, “Just mind your business, Eddie.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but the microwave started to go off, signaling what you saw as the end of the conversation – the fight. You’d raised your voice at him, you’d swung that sword in his direction, and he hadn’t vanished. His friendship – he – wasn’t as breakable as you’d thought.

You spun on your heel, you took the popcorn out and divided it into bowls for the group, busying your hands in any way possible. All the while, he never left the kitchen. He stood just feet away from you and let you do what needed to be done, and only stopped you as you turned to exit the kitchen with the snacks acquired.

His hand caught onto your elbow, “You have bags.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have bags under your eyes,” he elaborated. He no longer looked frustrated, but defeated, a morose distress pinching the edges of his feature.

“Jesus,” you were now scoffing, adjusting your grip on those bowls, “You really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”

“They’ve been there for months,” his grip refused to loosen, thumb trailing over the crease in your arm, “Please don’t run yourself into the ground.”

You gave him a cold shoulder as you left him behind to rejoin your friends, unable to shake his consternation. It was so genuine, it terrified you. It made your insides churn, it turned your anxious attachment to dust.

It made a shiver of warmth travel down your spine.

The empty space beside you on the couch only remained for seconds after you’d passed around the bowls, keeping one for yourself. He was back there, back at your side, as if the two of you hadn’t just exited a battle ground. As if a stand-off hadn’t just occurred, as if it all hadn’t ended in a draw.

He looked at you with those eyes.

Fight with me. Stand your ground with me. Don’t walk away from me. I will still call tomorrow.

He did more than call that night. As the movie started, he didn’t so much as flinch when your head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion. He only tucked an arm around your shoulders, only shifted you to be more comfortable as you used him as a personal pillow. He glared at everyone in warning not to grill you on the plot of the movie when you’d awoke mildly disappointed, he’d let you sleep on the drive home. He never once brought the fight back up.

And he still called the next day.

After your shift, he was the first voice you heard after dragging your feet into your apartment. A brief apology was exchanged before it was back to business as usual between you two. And somewhere between his rambles, you fell asleep with your phone balanced half-haphazardly between your cheek and shoulder. You could only dream of the grin he wore when he’d hear your soft snores over the line, quieting down immediately to let you rest. He never hung up – he was content to sit on a hushed line if only for the assuredness that you were finally resting.

The warmth no longer traveled down your spine, instead curling up timidly near that hole inside of you. You let it.

“Munson residence!”

That warmth that had found home in your chest still remains to this day, rousing at Eddie’s voice over the line. It’s nearly enough to make you cry – the relief that floods you just by the sound of him and his endless chipper. His optimism that always seems to exist, even in contrast with those harsh edges he tries to portray.

“Eddie,” you whisper, as if you’re not the only one in your apartment, “Can you… Are you free?”

Even after a year, you still sometimes felt guilt, asking so much of him. Asking so much, and giving so little in return.

But you weren’t the one who set that standard. Eddie had. Ferociously, fiercely, stubbornly. The insistence that you simply being was enough for him.

“For you, sweetness?” he chuckles lowly. He recognizes your voice immediately; you never have to say it’s you calling. You could have shrugged it off as Caller ID, but you knew the Munson’s phone didn’t have that. No, he recognized you by voice only. He’d once joked that only you would one day be able to rouse him from the dead, based on the ‘sweet melody alone’. Recognition in death – you had managed to burrow your way so deeply into his life, you’d earned recognition in death. “Always. What’s up?”

You could have just kept him on the phone. Had one of your infamous conversations about everything and nothing. Sat on the cold tiles of your kitchen and smiled like a child as you listened to him rant. But the cold chill of your lonesome apartment was becoming suffocating, and you remembered that take out in the fridge and the way one of his socks had ended up in your laundry last week. You remembered how you started keeping his favorite brand of beer in your fridge and how one of your pillows started to permanently smell like his aftershave.

He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. He had a key to your apartment. He had a space, here, in this lonesome apartment. And all you had to do was beckon to him, and he would come to fill it. Always.

“Can you come over?”

You don’t even have to explain yourself. He complies readily, whispers out a soft yes in the voice you’d also recognize even in death, and promises to be there within ten minutes.

He makes it within eight.

And you’re still leaning on your kitchen counter, your head still swimming dangerously with all the different ways you’d let down Nancy. Once upon a time, you might have worried about inviting him over, worried that your anxieties and your short-comings might bleed into your relationship with him. In the beginning, it had been simple enough. You kept him at an arm’s length away the moment you realized you couldn’t make yourself needed to him, not out of selfishness but out of fear. Fear, because if he didn’t need you, why would he stick around?

Because without need, if you did the wrong thing, there was no necessary thread tying them to you. Because without need, there was no chance for the day that you might find love in your grave robbings, and you couldn’t handle the thought of someone like Eddie Munson deciding you weren’t worth his time.

It hadn’t occurred to you for a very long time that maybe, possibly, you’d been going around the concept of love with a very wrong mindset.

Your safe place. That’s what the back of the van had become over these sticky summer nights – your safest refuge.

It was always the same scene; Eddie on his back beside you, lazily nursing a joint, while you sat up reading passages of the latest book you two had embarked on together. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was fantasy, and sometimes, it was just a reread. That night, it was a reread. The Hobbit.

“‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. ‘I remember the mountain well-’” you recited off of the page, when Eddie suddenly sat up abruptly and snatched the book from you.

“No, no, no!” he wagged his finger at you after he discarded his joint into the ashtray you’d made him start keeping in the fan, “Sweetheart, you’re doing the voices all wrong.”

You rolled your eyes at him, reaching to take the book back, “Not all of us have a Dungeon Master voice to whip out, Munson. Give it back.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Do I need to say please? I’ll say please.”

It was best like this. Just the two of you, away from everyone else. Some nights, the two of you hadn’t even needed a book to bond over. You’d just gaze at stars, or indulge in whatever weed he’d brought along with him. He never pressured you, though – if you shook your head at his offer of the joint, that was that. He seemed to apply that to most aspects of your friendship this last year.

You never had to prove anything to him. He saw your worth as if it were glaringly obvious, as if it were as simple of a concept as breathing. No extra effort needed from your end.

Just by being, you had managed to become something important to him. He needed you, if only because you were you.

“The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me,” he snorted, shifting so that his shoulder pressed against your own. A warmth spreads from the point of contact. “Let the master show you how it’s done.”

You tried to not let it show, but your grin was radiant. He was the master at those ridiculous voices, at theatrics and at bringing the story to life. You were transported from the shore of Lover’s Lake, in the back of that stuffy yet comforting van, to meadows of soft grass and hobbit holes of comfort. To a place where all the threats were mythical and all the expectations of you were released.

You’d spent the week helping Steve finish up his college plans. His parents had tried to pressure him into picking his top three universities, but the moment he had confided in you that he might prefer a community college to begin, you’d held his hand as you guided him through the process. A rewarding process, have no doubt, but it had left you numb and reeling. Sharing someone else’s stress, shouldering their burdens – it had been a bit much.

You needed this. You needed Eddie’s ridiculous voices and the sharp press of his shoulder against your temple.

“Falling asleep on me already?” he teased when he’d noticed how quiet you had gone.

“Never,” you lied through a yawn that quickly exposed you.

“Liar,” he huffed. You didn’t even need to glance up to confirm the smile you knew he wore. “We can head back home, if you need. I know it’s getting late-”

“No,” you quickly sat up, effectively making yourself dizzy, “No, I- It’s fine. I’m awake. I swear.”

“It’s okay that you were falling asleep,” he was quick to reach out, to tug you back down to his side, wrapping his arm around you to press you even closer than before, “I just don’t want to keep Cinderella out past Midnight.”

“It’s barely ten.”

“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he scowled as you pressed your grin against his t-shirt clad shoulder, “I’m serious, though. Do I need to take you home?”

“No, Eddie. I’m good.”

“Swear it? Swear you don’t have an early shift, or some… some obligation?”

“No shifts, no obligations.”

“And if I just kidnap you for the weekend? Am I going to have an angry mob at my doorstep, demanding your service?”

You smiled wider at the thought. The idea of him hiding you away, letting you live in this reprieve for the entire weekend. It was a nice thought, “I certainly wouldn’t complain.”

And so the two of you sat there like that for an hour more. Eddie coming up with ridiculous tones for the various characters, you slipping in and out of consciousness as his warmth stayed wrapped around him. You don’t even notice when the warmth he’d planted in you finally covers up that hole inside of you, not even missing the absence of that emptiness until Eddie went quiet.

In the silence, you noticed it.

The gash you’d grown accustomed to, the hole that had become an extra limb for you. Vanished. Gone. Disappeared without a trace.

It was a sudden and terrifying realization. Everything in you urged you to jump up, to scramble around you to find the darkness again, like a comfort blanket you couldn’t stand to lose. You went against the instinct, though, and rose slowly from Eddie’s hold.

In lieu of scrambling, you peered at Eddie curiously. “Hey, Eds. Can I ask you something?”

He nodded sleepily, almost as drowsy as you. You’re shocked when he shifts and instead of pulling you back to him, he opted to lay his head in your lap.

That hole was still gone. The weight of his head on your thighs, the feeling of his breath on your bare thigh. For a moment, you can’t breathe.

You’re warm. Not uncomfortably so, but encapsulated with an internal warmth. Like a fever spreading, the ice in your spine that you had lived with for years had begun to thaw.

“Why do you keep me around?” you whispered, still sitting stiffly, staring in awe down at the way he just nuzzled his face into your lap.

With his eyes still closed, face smooth from any worry from the question, he mumbled, “What do you mean?”

You only hesitated due to the thought crossing your mind; what if you bringing this up reminds him?

You thought back to the night in Harrington’s kitchen. The push and the pull, the bloody battle and the way he still called.

He was not as delicate as you took him for.

“I- What do you get out of this?” you couldn’t figure out how to phrase it correctly. You knew what you got out of this, but what does he get?

“Get out of what?”

“Get out of keeping me around.”

His eyes finally opened, twisting in your lap so that he could stare up at you. “You say that as if you’re forcing me to be your friend.”

I could be, that nagging voice in your mind whispered. You could very well be forcing him, and just be blinded because you were enjoying the summer of warmth that he carried with him too much to let him go.

“You never let me do anything for you,” you sighed, fingers finding themselves tangled in his roots against better judgment. But you needed to touch him, to ground yourself, as you admitted this hard truth, “You do shit for me all the time. You drive all the way out to this lake just because I complain about everything being too much. You’ve started playing chauffeur for the kids to give me a break. Harrington said you even offered to look at college brochures with him. And…. And I’m not stupid, Eds,” your voice shook as you looked down at him, a sudden feeling of undeserving striking you in your chest, “You do so much for me lately. And you don’t ask for anything in return – you don’t let me do anything in return. Why?”

His smile twisted with a hint of sadness, and brown eyes met your gaze without so much as flinching, “Sweetheart, why do you think you have to repay me for that stuff?”

“I-”

“No, hear me out,” he reached up, taking your hand out of his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, slowly dragging it down to rest on his sternum, “I chose to do that stuff. And, yeah, maybe I was trying to take some of that shit off your plate. But you didn’t ask me to. I chose to. I wanted to do those things, do nice things for you, because you won’t let anyone else.”

You bit back a scoff, “I let people do nice things for me-”

“You really don’t,” his hold on your hand tightened, “You really, really don’t. You constantly…. You just, you take care of everyone else, but you act afraid to let someone take care of you. People are allowed to take care of you, too, y’know? You should let them. They love you – they want to take care of you, just like you take care of them.”

They love you.

The air drained from your lungs in a slow, silent sigh. You waited a few minutes, but the oxygen never replenished as you tried to grasp his words.

They love you.

Why would they love me?

“Why wouldn’t they love you, sweetheart?” Eddie looked more concerned now, suddenly prepared to sit up and remove his head for your lap. But his hand still held yours tightly, still clung to you, “You know they love you, right? God, you gotta know that. We all love you.”

You hadn’t realized you’d spoken the bitter thought out loud until he looked at you, utterly heartbroken, in complete disbelief. “I…”

No. I don’t know that. What have I done to deserve their love?

“They need me, sure,” you started, narrowing your eyes at the breaks in the waves of Lover’s Lake, “I mean, I just try to make myself useful to them. It’s the least I can do when I… when they…” you struggled to get the words out. You saw that hole again, like a light at the end of the tunnel, but so far from the relief most mean by that metaphor. Something peeking around the corner, ready to devour you all over again. So you plunged, you prepared yourself for it to spring to life and take you whole as you nearly whimpered, “When they put up with me. It’s the least I can do when they put up with me.”

“No one puts up with you,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Least of all me.”

The deadliest of blows. He cracked your hardened surface with that, shook the foundations of every belief you’d held for eternity.

“Most of all you,” you corrected without thinking, “God, I- Eddie, seriously. What reason do you have for keeping me around? I don’t know how the fuck you put up with m-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you’d never heard him beg so painfully before then, “Please. Don’t… You want to know my reason?” you nodded numbly, finally looking to find him with wet eyes and lips pressed into a fine line, “Because you’re you. I… Fuck, I love you. I keep you around because you’re you. You’re good for me. Whether you believe it or not. You’re good for me just by being you, and there’s nothing you have to do to accomplish that,” you started to look away before he grabbed your cheeks, turning you to face him as he emphasized each word, “You don’t have to earn love. That’s not what love is. Got it?”

You looked into his eyes, and saw all the soft declarations of love echoed back to you, even from the very start.

‘Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.’

‘The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.’

The entire time you’d been so worried about taking care of everyone else, he’d been worried about taking care of you. Endless late night phone calls, careful check-ins when he saw the exhaustion take the frontlines, sparse fights about putting yourself first. The only thing he ever wanted from you was for you to take care of yourself.

While you were busy being there for everyone else, he was busy being there for you.

He never once made you dig to the bottom of his grave to find the warmth. He’d handed it over on a silver platter.

So how could you look him in his at that moment, and tell him that you didn’t ‘get it’? That you’d never been sure if what you were seeking from your friends was really love? That, really, you’d given up on being loved a long time ago, assuming it was asking too much?

How do you look him in his eyes in that moment and tell him you had long since declared yourself unlovable?

He didn’t make you say it. Only kept your cheeks pressed between his palms, as he leaned forward, forehead meeting yours and whispering words for only you, “I love you, no strings attached. You’re my… friend. I love you. Okay?”

No one had ever fought so valiantly to get the point across. Not just that night at the lake, but in the entirety of his friendship with you.

The hole slinked back behind the corner. The darkness decided it could wait another day. And in its place, warm brown eyes filled the void. Whether he even realized it or not.

You nearly believed him. Nearly. But you bit down hard on that belief, throwing it out of sight, and instead of echoing back the ‘okay’ you assumed he was seeking out, all you did was sob out another, “Why?”

When you collapsed into him, he held you. Your sobs remained dry, your confusion palpable as you clung to him and tried to let that belief envelope you like his arms had.

I love you.

How could someone love you?

He didn’t press it the way you thought he would. He didn’t scold you for continuing to question him and he didn’t lash out at your disbelief.

He just held you. Letting your face press into his neck as his fingers ran up and down your spine, giving it a moment before he started talking again.

“Your humor,” he hummed after a couple moments of silence, heavy breathing eventually evening out.

“What?”

“The way you take care of others,” he continued on like he hadn’t heard you, “That spark you get in your eyes when you tell someone about something good. A favorite book, movie, story from your day – whatever it is. The way you give the best hugs – and you don’t give me them nearly often enough. The way you snore, and the way you definitely deny snoring.”

You opened your mouth, about to lift your head and argue with him, but he just placed an encouraging palm on the back of your head to keep you close to him.

“The way your favorite color changes with the seasons. The way you only like artificial cherry flavoring, not the real stuff. The way you look at night when we’re driving and you’re just screaming your favorite lyrics. The way you look at me to see if a joke lands. The way you fuss about my wrinkled clothes, even when you also don’t care about the wrinkles in your own shirts. The way you take your coffee. The way you always offer to paint one of my nails to match yours. The way you treat your recipe for chocolate chip cookies like some top secret, government trade. But we both know it’s just some recipe from a cookbook you thrifted when you were ten. The way you get excited over the small things, like the cows we pass by on the way out here. They're always there, and you always point them out. The way you just… are.”

He didn’t have to say it. He was answering your question.

He was listing his whys.

“You don’t have to earn it,” he didn’t say the word, not this time. You felt it, “It just… it’s there. It’s there and it’s not going anywhere. I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”

Loved. For the first time ever, it felt like a possibility; to be loved.

Eddie always knocks on your front door a certain way – a pattern he rarely strays from. But you can always tell. He’s the only fool who would find humor in knocking out such an annoying compilation of hits on the wooden panels until you finally unlatch the lock and open it to find him standing in your threshold.

His hair is frizzy and in a low ponytail, wearing a baggy band shirt and plaid pajama pants. He greets you with such a wide smile, your chest aches.

“Hey there, sweetness.”

You don’t say a word, just drag him inside before you wrap your arms around his waist. Ever since that night, and his admittance of enjoying your hugs, you made a conscious effort to hug him more often.

“Miss me?” he chuckles, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek as you softly pinch his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him only laugh harder once you pull away.

“Not at all,” you snark back as you make sure the door is securely shut and properly locked.

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope.”

He smacks a fist to his chest as if you had stabbed him with your words, “Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.”

“Get over it,” you tease. Your head has finally stopped swimming, your chest no longer tight with the fear of not being enough. Nancy is long forgotten as you say, “Have you eaten dinner?”

“Depends,” he hums as he toes off his boots, “If you’re offering to buy me some, then no, I definitely did not eat spaghetti with Wayne right before you called.”

You throw your head back laughing as he’s already making a beeline for your kitchen, digging out that damned takeout menu and reaching for the phone, already so sure of your order.

Knowing your order at restaurants. Without having to ask. Apparently, that was part of the whole ‘being loved’ gig.

Adjusting has taken months. Since that night in Eddie’s van, he’d kept his word. Not a day went by without him finding a way to remind you, whether it be by direct words or small actions, that he loved you. You both kept it under that friendly guise. He loved you in that familiar way, the way the others supposedly loved you. A way you could manage to recognize some days.

Other days were still rough. Days like today were still rough.

The takeout is ordered and Eddie sets up camp on your couch, rambling about something that had happened during one of the DnD nights he still hosted with the kids. Something about a dumb decision Mike did that cost most of the group their character’s lives. You have a hard time following along, and he’s quick to pick up on it.

“Hey, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you lean into the back couch cushion, smooshing your cheek as you watched him animatedly speak.

“Hm?”

“Bad day?”

He never judged you for the rough days. He never judged you for the days you still couldn’t find the love, even after he worked so virtuously to show it to you. He may never understand it, that hollow ache that resided in your darkest corners and whispered that none of it was real, but it never deterred him.

He loved you on good days, and he especially loved you on bad days.

You consider lying to him, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you so earnestly, “Yeah. It… yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks you, shuffling to be more comfortable where he sits as he motions for you to lay down. You do so immediately, head finding a home against his thigh and his fingers stroking over your cheek before they toy with the ends of your hair.

All you can do is shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about that fear of failing Nancy as a friend, especially when you know that wasn’t her take away from it. It felt silly now; all that overthinking, when you know now if you questioned her on it, all she would have seen from the day was a friend lending a caring ear. You know because you had asked her about it once, if she found your listening habits too callous, upon Eddie’s insistence.

She hadn’t. In fact, all she could do was thank you, had insisted that she was just grateful someone would listen to her ramblings. And you understood that, left it at that.

“Okay,” he murmurs, voice so quiet you nearly miss it. His fingers continue to play across your shoulders now, barely weighted against bare skin, “That’s fine.”

He didn’t mind if you didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t mind if you never spoke another word, if all you needed was him here. You just needed him close by and to sit with you, to make it all a little less much.

Nothing. He needed absolutely nothing from you, asked nothing of you. Because you didn’t have to earn this. All you had to do was simply be, and he would provide this.

Love. What an odd concept, to have found warmth in a grave you never even got the chance to dig your shovel into.

“Hey, Eddie?” his fingers pause at your croaking voice. You smile at his stillness, at the way he hums carefully in response, still trying to offer the silence you quietly begged for, “I love you.”

There’s more to unpack there. More than just familial love, more than just two friends that love each other without conditions. But tonight is not the night, and you both see that it is enough. There will be other nights to dig your claws in and to dissect what those three little words mean between you two. There will be other nights to consider how your other friends don’t have a permanent spare toothbrush on your bathroom counter or a space for their takeout in your fridge. But not tonight.

For tonight, this was enough. The quiet, and the warmth, the being was enough.

“I love you,” he emphasizes the last word, leaning down and his lips grazing your temple.

You notice the way he leaves off the too. He’d love you, even if you didn’t love him. You’d love him, even if he didn’t love you. Unconditional, no strings attached. A warmth you do not have to fight to earn. A rarity you never encountered before, and may never encounter again, but you have for tonight and for as long as he chooses to stick around.

Your shovel sits abandoned in a shed in the distance. Your fingernails are clean of the dirt. The graveyard, it seems, would go another night without its robber.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #yeah the archer has a chokehold on me #idk man this is scary to post a put... a lot of myself in here #my bad #3k celebration

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lomlhwa · 3 months

Text

roadtrip (c.s)

pairing: bf!san x gf!reader

preview: idk it's a long roadtrip and san needs to let out some pent up energy

tags/warnings: fem reader, oral (m.receiving), kinda subby san idk there's not a lot of dialogue, road head can i get a wahoo, head while driving (don't do that), he's wearing grey sweatpants (yes that's a tag), you take your seatbelt off to give him head (WEAR YOUR SEATBELT), dacryphilia, pet names (baby, pretty girl), cum eating

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 833

song recs for this fic: let's! by hoppipola

a/n: dedicated to one of the biggest san stans i know (you know who you are)

you look up to check the clock on the car display and groan. 4:00pm. you’ve been on the road for at least 4 hours now. you know your destination is far but there’s only so much gazing out the window that one person can do.

at least you have the best view on the planet sitting next to you. your boyfriend, san, always looks so much more attractive while he’s driving. one hand on the wheel and one hand gripping the plush skin of your thigh. his eyes are stuck on the road, his head swaying from side to side to the beat of the music filling the otherwise silent car.

you rest your head on the window, debating dozing off. that is, until you hear the sound of san’s clothes shuffling around on his seat. you turn your head to find that he’s adjusting his hips in his seat, seeming uncomfortable.

“you okay, sannie?” you ask, feeling concerned. could he have a stomach ache? was a pit stop imminent? he nods, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. you can tell from his facial expression that it’s an empty motion.

“just tell me what’s wrong. if you need to stop we can-” you cut yourself off once your eyes finally travel down to his lap. you finally spot his…. problem. it’s clear to you now why he was shifting around in his seat.

“oh, that’s what’s wrong,” you cross your ankles together, debating how to go about it. you’re about to suggest pulling over but when you look at him, you think you might explode if you don’t do something immediately. he looks at you with wide, teary eyes that beg you to touch him.

“aww sannie, do you want my help?” you lean towards him and you can tell he’s really struggling to keep his eyes on the road. “please, baby. it hurts,” he takes his hand off your thigh to pull at his grey sweatpants. you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation.

“eyes on the road or i’ll stop,” you instruct as you help him shimmy his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs. he’s harder than you think you’ve ever seen him in your entire relationship. what could have even had him like this?

you unlock your seatbelt to lay your torso over the center console. not the most comfortable position but you could not care less right now. you keep your arms free so you can wrap your hands around his cock. you pump him a few times, using his pre-cum as lube.

you shoot one glance up at him to make sure he’s looking at the road. his cute face is scrunched, trying to keep from looking down at his pretty girlfriend. you can see tears slowly streaming down his face out of desperation.

you finally wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it. a small squeak comes from your boyfriend at finally getting what he wanted. san grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. you bob your head up and down, doing your best to not accidentally knock into his arm.

his hips buck up slightly, his tip jabbing the back of your throat. you gag, saliva pouring out of your mouth. he takes one hand off the wheel and tangles his fingers in your hair. his other hand still holds a death grip on the steering wheel.

“pretty girl,” san says, his hips continuing to rock up. he sniffles before adding to his sentence. “let me use your mouth, i need it,” he pleads, his voice cracking. you can’t help but feel like his crying is only spurring you on.

you pull your mouth off him only to respond. “go ahead, just make sure you keep driving,” you assure him before taking him back into your mouth. he strengthens his grip on your hair before guiding your head manually.

you place your hand on his thigh, digging your nails into it to try and ignore your gag reflex. you can’t help but gag though, considering the sheer size. shoving the whole thing down your throat is guaranteed to trigger your reflexes.

“oh my pretty girl, i’m gonna cum,” he announces, shoving your head all the way down and holding you there. all your muscles tense as you hold your breath, waiting for him to fill your throat. in only a mere few seconds, your throat is full of his cum.

he finally lets go of your hair and lets you come up for air. some of his release slips out of your mouth and your fingers scramble to shove it back in. you swallow it all to the best of your abilities.

you wipe the tears off his face and look at him lovingly. “feel better, sannie?” you ask and he nods. you can tell he means it this time. “i do, but i’m pulling the fuck over because i can’t leave you high and dry.”

#lomlhwa #ateez #atz #san #choi san #ateez smut #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut

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imaginesforeons · 6 months

Text

One Word (Yandere!Toji x Reader)

~All he wants is a name~

CW: Previous abusive relationships. Current abusive relationship. Yandere!Toji. Kidnapping. Implied NSFW(kinda).

Word Count: 950

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

.-.-.

Your hand squeezed the doorknob so hard you swore you heard your knuckles crack. Trembling, you let your sweaty forehead rest against the bathroom door, closing your eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Toji crooned from the other side of the door. “All you have to do is give me a name. Just one word, then it’ll all be over.”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “No. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

From the other side of the door you heard a thump. When Toji spoke again, his voice was louder. He was probably leaning against it. “Really? You’re trying to protect the guy that beat on you for three months?”

“Toji,” you said. You knew how much he loved it when you said his name. Maybe it would make him go easy on you, and you could escape today without any blood on your hands. “He’s not here. When I left him, he never even looked back. I bet he doesn’t even remember my name.”

You bit your tongue until you tasted the salty tang of blood as you waited for his response. On the other side of the door he was silent; you couldn’t even hear his breath, and you were surprised that he hadn’t forced his way in yet.

It was a courtesy, you knew. Ever since Toji brought you - kidnapped you - to his home in a secluded countryside, he had removed all the locks in the house, except for the front door and windows, the former of which he had the only key, while the latter he had bolted shut. The only reason he hadn’t pushed into the bathroom was out of some misplaced respect for you. Or maybe he was having fun.

He was probably having fun.

It seemed like you were destined to have one abusive relationship after another. Your first boyfriend was notorious for his gaslighting of you, and you had to deal with a year of feeling like you were crazy until you finally caught on. Your second boyfriend had seemed, at first, to be a little better. Until you found out you were the other woman, and he had a wife and two kids with a third on the way. Your third boyfriend had worked slower. While you had dated and broken up with the other two in a span of a year or less, this one had worked with a deadly patience.

Your honeymoon phase lasted two years before any dangerous signs decided to show themselves. At first, you excused it by saying he was stressed, an excuse which would damn you. He would come home angry, shout at you, pick at every little mistake you made, then leave again. But he’d make it better the next day, bringing you gifts, cleaning the house, and taking you out to picture perfect dates. Later, you would learn that this was called love bombing. You thought it would get better, but each day it only got worse, building to a deadly climax.

It got worse and worse until one night, you found yourself out on the street, fleeing from your boyfriend and nursing a broken wrist. That was how you met Toji. He took you to the hospital, and after you left your boyfriend, you couldn’t say anything but yes when he asked you out on a date. Your reprieve lasted only three weeks, until one day you woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house, and Toji explained that you’d never leave.

Four months later, and you were here, hiding in the bathroom from a man that could break the door down with one hand. He had demonstrated his inhuman strength dozens of times, and though he’d never laid a hand on you, every time you saw him crumple a doorknob in with a single squeez, or snap a crowbar in half like a twig, you were left shaking.

“Listen, babe,” Toji said. “You know I love your loyalty, but my patience will only last so long. You just have to give me a name, and I’ll do the rest.”

You felt your heart plummet.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please, Toji, I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”

Toji snorted. “Why? Don’t tell me you still love him. A guy like that doesn’t deserve anything from you.”

You wondered if he could hear how ironic that statement was, coming from him.

“No!,” you cried swiftly. “I just don’t want to be reminded of him again, that’s all. Toji, I never loved him-” a lie “-I’ve only ever cared for you!” Another lie, but maybe this one would make him give up.

There was silence from the other side of the door, lasting long enough that you felt hope start to bloom in your chest. Then you heard a familiar sound that made your eyes sting anew, a sound like the crumpling of a soda can. Toji had just crushed the bathroom’s door handle.

It was useless, but you still pushed back as he forced the door open. You still fought when he swept you into his arms. You snarled and cursed when he threw you onto the bed, because while Toji might be dangerous, he had never turned his anger towards you. You turned your head away when he tried to kiss you, but he only took your face in one calloused hand, holding it steady so he could place a quick kiss on your lips.

“I thought you already learned that what I want, I get,” Toji murmured. “By morning, I’ll be leaving with a name, no matter what.”

#jjk imagines #imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere #yandere toji #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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throneofsapphics · 6 months

Note

I figured I should ask before requesting but here goes nothing, again, ‼️TW‼️;

Can I request more angst with Az? Like uhmm.... Maybe the reader has extreme trust issues and she finally has opened up to Az but now that Elaine is here, she finds Ax drifting (not much but they don't do their normal dinners together as much as they used to, they don't bathe together as much, etc, small things she needs to that stability) and it starts to eat away at her but she doesn't want to tell Az about her feelings because she feels like a burden but then maybe Mor or someone convinces her to talk to him but he's had a long day so he snaps at her and leaves and she ends up... Offing herself..... Uhm.. and then Az's finding her body the next morning and his reaction and everyone else's too...... 👁️👁️

It only takes three

Azriel x Reader

Summary: “There were three words you came to say, three little syllables, and it only took three to shatter you.”

Warnings: suicide, pills & alcohol, suicidal ideation, angst

A/N: I appreciate you asking, thank you for the request! & what’s a little more trauma for the inner circle? know your triggers y'all, this is heavy

Azriel dedicated himself to gaining your trust. The one person who managed to knock those walls down, and it took decades before you’d opened up to him. Mor was a close second. Maybe it was a cliche, but he understood you, more than anyone else. He’d listened through everything, listened as you broke, and helped you put the pieces back together.

All these years, you’d been waiting and hoping he’d see it, hoping he’d feel the same bond you did. You were somewhere between friends and lovers, nothing ever clear or defined. But, you knew he was the one person you could rely on.

Resentment was ugly, and so was jealousy, but you couldn’t help those emotions as you watched his infatuation with the middle Archeron sister grow. It was nothing against her, she truly was a lovely person, and you could see why Azriel took an interest in her. The nasty little voice told you he’d grown tired of you, that you were too much, that he’d found someone less burdensome - as you’d always feared.

At first, you wrote it off as him being busy. That’s what he said - and he’d never lied to you. After the war with Hybern, things hadn’t quite settled and his workload was high. You tried to be understanding, to be respectful of the boundaries he’d subtly set. But you craved your old routine. Wednesday morning breakfasts, him slipping into your bed when he couldn’t sleep, bringing him tea when you knew he was working a late night. He used to always leave his door cracked, but recently it had been locked. Any knocks went unanswered, even though you could hear him inside. Instead, you’d leave the cup outside of his door, only to find it there in the mornings - untouched.

It really began to fall apart, to you, when you went to visit Feyre at the River House. Azriel said he had some kind of work mission, that he’d be out for the day, and as Feyre led you around, he was in the gardens, with Elain. You didn’t let him see you, instead you stuck out the rest of the tour with a smile, saving your tears for home.

It was a different type of torture, watching the one person destined for you fall in love with someone else. You tortured yourself too, holding on to hope he’d realize and he’d come back to you.

Finally, you built the courage to tell Mor. You needed a sounding board, someone to give some advice, someone outside of your head.

“Tell him,” Mor encouraged you, “he’ll understand.”

“He’s been pulling away, I don’t want him to think I’m trying to … I don't know, trap him.”

“Az,” she sighed, “he’s wanted to find his mate for … well maybe even for centuries. For a shadowsinger, he’s too stubborn to see what’s right in front of him,” her mouth curved up at one corner. “If you don’t tell him, he might never know. I imagine you’re tired of waiting.”

“You have no idea,” you laughed, but stood. Brave. Three words; I’m your mate, and at least the weight would be off your chest. Whatever happened next, whatever his reaction was, you could figure that out as it came. Despite the growing distance, he was still the person you trusted above all, and you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

For once, his door was open. This felt like a good sign.

“Az,” you called, peeking your head inside the room. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Tomorrow,” a clipped one word answer, not even bothering to look up from his desk.

“It really is important.”

“It can wait.” there was such a finality in his tone. Almost like he thought nothing regarding you could be important. But you wanted to give it one more shot.

“Please-”

“I don’t care, whatever it is, I. Don’t. Care.”

Well, he’d finally looked up at you, like you were some obnoxious fly he was trying to get rid of. Swallowing your tears, you nodded and turned away. Part of you knew you couldn’t promise tomorrow.

There were three words you came to say, three little syllables, and it only took three to shatter you. To shatter the fragile self he’d helped you build.

Maybe it was intentional. You knew exactly what this cocktail could do to you, and you wanted that sweet release to drag you under. When every breath felt like a chore, every word like an ache tearing out of you, it felt like the only option.

One hand clutched the bottle of pills, the other the bottle of wine.

Pills from a friend, who warned you taking too many could kill you. That warning was a siren call now.

You were already drunk when you poured the entire bottle into your hands, throwing them back without a second thought, wine washing them down. It would take you into sweet, sweet oblivion, and only the mother knew whether you’d wake up on this earth or not.

Maybe your soul could become one of those pretty little spirits, migrating on starfall. Or maybe you’d end up in another universe, like the ones you studied in the library. You giggled to yourself. Anywhere else felt like a better option now.

You were definitely hallucinating, because three little butterflies floated in front of you, reaching out you felt them touch your fingers. Was it welcoming? Or an omen? The butterflies faded, bursting into dust, and the tears began. A few minutes later, you knew nothing.

“Where’s y/n?” Mor asked Azriel as he stalked into the room. He was still in a piss-poor mood, and this was the last thing he wanted to do this morning. Going to a court meeting.

“Do I look like her keeper?”

Mor seemed a bit confused by his response. “Can you get her?”

He wanted to ask; why not you, but it felt a bit too childish. Besides, he needed to talk about last night anyway. Too late, a shadow whispered in his ear. It’s never too late, he could fix this. Taking the stairs two at a time, he headed for your bedroom. Shadows swirled around him, in front of him, searching and … storming the room. They unlocked the door before he could, gone, gone, gone, they whispered to him. Had you left in the middle of the night? He couldn’t hear you in there, but your scent was still fresh.

And alcohol. A pit settled in his stomach. Gone. Too late.

Azriel pushed the door open. Not in your room. A small click and his shadows opened the door to your bathing room. There were sweet and tender memories from that room. Him washing your hair, delicately working through the strands that always seemed tangled, you washing his wings.

He didn’t think this would be one of those memories.

Pushing the door open, he fell to his knees.

Mor heard the guttural scream, one of pain and sorrow. Something she’d never heard from Az. Mor didn’t bother taking the stairs, and winnowed to your door. Directly across from her, another door was swung open, offering her a clear view. Azriel on his knees in front of … your body. Lips blue, skin white. His hands pressed down on your chest, up and down, up and down.

“You’re late,” Rhys said, echoing through her mind. She only cast the image to him. Within a minute, more voices and footsteps sounded inside the house. Mor had already crossed the room, kneeling next to Azriel, her magic searching desperately for a sign of life.

Minutes later, Madja was there, crowding in behind her. Cassian pulled a thrashing Azriel away from your body.

Mor could only stand by the door, mouth parted and body still in shock.

An empty pill bottle, one blue pill laying next to your hand, as if it had fallen out. An empty bottle of wine on the floor, dregs of red liquid still gathering in the bottle.

Today was supposed to be good. Last night, you’d told Azriel you were his mate. She was prepared for the two of you to miss today entirely.

Something had gone terribly wrong. Whirling around, she took one step closer to the shadowsinger, each movement laced with fury, entire body trembling.

“Did you reject her?” Mor had skipped the earthly and deadly quiet, and screamed at Az, power rumbling through the room.

“What do you mean reject?”

“She is - was - your mate.”

Azriel felt like his world stopped. Each word sliced into his chest. Mate.

That’s what you wanted to tell him, and he told you, unequivocally, that he didn’t care. He was the person you trusted above all others, at one point. The one who spent decades breaking down those walls, slowly and carefully gaining your trust. Decades working towards that goal, and a year to throw it away.

This was his fault.

He could imagine the hopeful look on your face as you peeked into his door. If he’d seen that … if he’d just looked.

“Az, can I talk to you about something?” Fuck, he’d forgotten to lock his door. Papers obscured his entire vision. Today had been too damn much, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone. It wasn’t specifically you.

“Tomorrow,”

“It really is important.” Desperation, but he knew there wasn’t much going on in your life. A shadow swirled angrily at the callous thoughts.

“It can wait.”

“Please-”

He looked at you, your face had fallen. The beginnings of tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Listen, listen, listen, his shadows were nearly begging. Tomorrow, he told them.

“I don’t care, whatever it is, I. Don’t. Care.”

You finally left. A small tinge of guilt, but he’d make it up to you tomorrow, or maybe the next day - that would be Wednesday, and he’d get up early to bring you breakfast, the old tradition you’d fallen out of habit with. Something easily revived.

Tomorrow, however, would be chock full of meetings. Meetings you’d be at too, and he’d make the time to hear you out, to apologize.

Now, a shadow curled next to his ear, pleading. He ignored it. They’d always favored you, and now he’d even say they were fussing. You were strong enough.

Azriel had ignored everything. Ignored each warning sign, ignored the desperate pleas of his shadows and the tears on your face. You cried, but it was never often.

“It’s my fault,” he said - more to himself. “My fault.”

He felt himself crumble, felt everything he used to keep himself in check slip away, his magic threatening to burst from him, to turn this house to rubble. He didn’t fight as Rhys grabbed him, as he winnowed him out to somewhere far out in the mountains. His brother released him as soon as they landed, but didn’t leave, he didn’t abandon him. Rhys should’ve, should’ve left him out here to bury himself. That’s what he deserved.

The ground shook, parts of the mountains surrounding him faded into dust, snow flooded down the sides, birds squawked as they fled. He spent hours, hours and hours up there - until his siphons dulled, until he felt his magic start to protest, until Rhys had to knock him unconscious before he let it tear him apart.

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #acotar drabble #acotar x reader

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