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halemerry · 8 months

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hii first of all, i absolutely love your metas on GO s2! your breakdown of the last few minutes of ep6 was really insightful and i love you for your meta about aziraphale and his role as a protector - it is a very astute look into his character and motivations which not a lot of people acknowledge in their theories/speculation after s2.

more to the point of this ask: this is something i've been mulling over and is the only thing that still doesn't make sense to me in ep6. why is crowley so nonchalant, or at least not noticeably worried, about the metatron showing up to the bookshop (a space he is very protective of) and taking aziraphala away for a talk after aziraphale has already been threatened by micheal? throughout the whole season crowley has been extremely protective over aziraphale and is very much aware of the real danger he is in (re: the book of life). this is also right after crowley has returned from heaven and has learned what the metatron was willing to do to gabriel to ensure 'institutional integrity' and that much bigger plans were afoot. i find it hard to wrap my head around his calm demeanor when the metatron enters the scene and takes aziraphale away, even if it's supposedly for a harmless talk. i wonder if you have any thoughts/speculation about this?

(opps this got too long and rambling). i would love to hear your thought but ofc please don't feel pressured to answer :) love your posts about the season and i look forward to reading more from you. have a lovely day!

Hi!! Thank you so much! This ask has had me by the throat basically since you sent it. It sort of touches on some things I already wanted to write about so forgive me if this spirals a bit.

So in a lot of ways I think this is a question that can have a one word answer. But since I do wanna talk about the way the show gives us this answer I actually want to start with Nina. Specifically I want to start with the thing she tells Crowley as Aziraphale’s off with the Metatron.

“You’re the hard bitten one that can’t trust anyone ever again and Mr. Wherever He Is is the soft one that still believes in magic people being basically good and all that."

I’ve talked a little bit about this line before in my meta about the build up to the Confession here because I think it’s important to view from the perspective of how it preps Crowley for the following conversation he’s about to have. But, aside from that, I think it's really important because it's wrong. Nina is describing herself here, not Crowley. She’s projecting her own issues onto him and Aziraphale in the way that she perceives herself relating to them. Crowley himself is actually the one that calls out her trust issues for what they are explicitly.

Nina doesn’t trust and she sees herself in Crowley far more than Aziraphale both in demeanor and aesthetic so she assumes he doesn’t trust either. But she has it backwards. Because Crowley isn’t hard bitten as much as someone who tries very hard to be perceived as such. And, most importantly in this specific context, Crowley actually trusts quite a bit.

And he nearly always has. Even as far as back as the Starmaker.

Just look at the way that the Starmaker and Aziraphale both talk about interacting with God. Aziraphale is nervous, anxious and pretty much immediately clocks that what the angel that would become Crowley is saying is going to get him into trouble. But the Starmaker? Even upset about the information he’s been given, he remains confident in the fact that it can’t hurt to ask a few questions. He trusts there to be no consequence for expressing an objection. He trusts that his opinion is valued. Even if he ends up wrong here there’s no inclination at all that he thinks his words will be taken inappropriately. And even the Fall itself doesn’t burn this out of him.

We see him trust Aziraphale, the cherub who was supposed to be guarding Eden from things like him, not to smite him on sight. And trusts him enough to not only have a conversation but express his own worries about his own actions. He then approaches Aziraphale like a friend at the Flood and makes no attempt to censor his horror at what is happening there.

Job is the first time we see Crowley act in a way that implies mistrust between them. This is the first time they’ve met since the Flood which I suspect is contributing to his reluctance to be honest with Aziraphale here. They fall into their roles and then very rapidly fall out of them. The fact Azriaphale reaches out to Crowley here is important. As is the moment where Crowley asks Aziraphale if he’s sure. After Aziraphale more or less agrees to be all in something changes. Crowley is surprisingly honest about his view on the world, mostly trusting Aziraphale not to use it against him. He places himself in front of a host of angels, trusting that Aziraphale would not expose him. And then later he’s even more honest, admitting to Aziraphale he’s lonely in an attempt to show solidarity.

The entire Arrangement could not exist without them trusting each other. Crowley’s pushing at Aziraphale’s boundaries is a constant exercise in trusting that Aziraphale will come around eventually - or that he at the very least isn’t about to weaponize the treacherous things Crowley is saying against him. As early as 1601 we see Aziraphale voicing active concern for Crowley's well being. We then see Crowley actively trust Aziraphale with both their safeties in 1941 - whether it’s trusting Azriaphale to save them from the bomb about to drop on them or trusting Aziraphale’s trust in him to not accidentally discorporate him during the bullet catch. They even explicitly talk about their mutual trust in this year during their shades of gray conversation.

During Armageddon Crowley shows up trusting that Aziraphale will help him fix this and once Aziraphale agrees never once seems to consider the idea that Aziraphale would hide anything from him (even when Aziraphale is actively doing so).

He also critically knows that Aziraphale tried to reach God and got himself discorporated as a consequence. And likely specifically knows that Aziraphale talked to the Metatron and came away from that conversation realizing that Heaven would not help him. It's worth noting whether Crowley knows this bit or not that in this conversation Aziraphale not only explicitly questions the Metatron's authority but also uses the conversation to extract information from the Metatron.

Aziraphale leaves this conversation with an active lie to the Metatron and attempts to call Crowley to tell him everything he knew. He then continually chooses Crowley over Heaven. They pick their own side and help stop the world from ending.

And then, all season, Aziraphale keeps proving that the trust Crowley has always had in him is well earned. Aziraphale, even more than Crowley himself, brings up ideas of 'us' and 'our side' and 'our car'.

Aziraphale openly talks negatively of Heaven. Not only does he agree with Crowley's disbelief that Heaven managed to stay in charge sending people like Muriel down, but he even goes a step further, implying that they perhaps never had control over earth in that way.

He also, most critically, immediately and without hesitation, tries to turn down the Metatron's offer to even have a conversation. Aziraphale, who has also just brought a group of archangels to order, reaffirms his lack of interest in Heaven right then and there in front of Crowley. Right when the Metatron has reaffirmed the threat of the Book of Life is out of play.

Crowley trusts Aziraphale. He always has. And more than ever lately Aziraphale has given him proof that he doesn't have to worry about where he allegiances lay.

But. It's also worth noting. I don't think Crowley is as chill as he maybe seems like he is. Yes, he's sprawled out and speaking casually here, but to some degree this is a bit of posturing. He's playing it cool and also not encroaching on the control Aziraphale has managed to wrangle on this situation. But he also doesn't just let them wander off either. As soon as they hit the door, Crowley is out of the chair and walking to the front of the shop to watch them leave through the window. He's keeping tabs as they walk away.

He then banishes Muriel and promptly starts to clean. Now I'm always a little wary to mix Book and Show canon, but I do think his cleaning of the bookshop (as well as him carrying around stacks of books while babysitting Jim) are manifestations of Book!Crowley's tendency to want to stress clean. He's keeping himself busy and gets done too quickly then promptly glances at his watch before throwing himself into the chair with a frustrated noise. He's anxious and stressed the entire time Aziraphale is out of his line of sight.

In other words, Crowley's not actually as calm as he's presenting himself to be. He's trying to take that nervous energy out in a way that doesn't conflict with giving Aziraphale agency. Because he trusts his angel. And that in part is why it hits him so hard when it all blows up in his face.

#good omens #crowley #good omens meta #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #answers #oh yeah this got waaaay long #oops

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pepsiconcoction · 1 year

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Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee.

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it.

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him.

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey.

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego.

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes.

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink.

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost.

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.”

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?”

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time.

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'.

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes.

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order.

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again.

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour.

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this.

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him.

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day.

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart.

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink.

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite.

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness.

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?”

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling.

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively.

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #han jisung #jisung #skz fluff #skz smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #skz drabbles #skz fanfic #stray kids hard thoughts

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bmhcdnsms · 4 months

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[male reader] - fem alligned, minors / ageless, and blank blogs dni or u will be blocked !

thinking about clingy men that won't leave you alone. i'm talking: whiny, needy, pathetic, touchy men that will do anything in their power to stay by your side. definitely do not care if their behavior is an inconvenience to anyone around you two, they won't change how they act at all.

they'll whine your name in that begging tone while they tug on the hem of your shirt, pleading eyes looking at you. all that effort just to beg you to let them come with you when you order your drink at the counter at the local cafe you two were at.

genuinely panics whenever you aren't near. it's codependency at its finest. you have to use the bathroom at the restaurant you two are dining at? he's counting down the seconds until you come back. and when you do, he almost burst into happy tears as he excitedly waits for you to take your seat. you have to help a family member on something important? he's trying to persuade you in letting him come, telling you that it's a good time for them to finally meet your boyfriend. you have to go to your classes? constantly tries sneaking in, despite you and your professor's warning on how he will get in trouble.

he can't go anywhere without you. turns into a really temperamental mess (to others) that will not hesitate in throwing a tantrum in hopes of that getting you to return back to his side.

"why don't you want me to come?" he whines, his voice on the other end of the phone call sounding exactly like heartbreak, "baby, i can go there quick-"

"i've already said no, elliot," you sigh, rubbing your forehead as you unlock your car, "you have classes, i know you do. you showed me your schedule last week, don't skip those classes,"

he whines again, sounding like a puppy that just got kicked. his needy sounds only grow louder at your silence, "but, why? i wanna go with you!"

"you can't, you can't miss your classes this semester. you got in a lot of trouble last time-"

"it doesn't matter! my professors don't care for attendence!"

"are you lying to me?"

there is a pause and that is enough to answer your question.

"i'm sorry, eli, but no," you're about to hang up, but falter as you feel bad for being so hard on him. but seriously! someone had to, or else he'd only get worse. your boyfriend practically wanted to live in your skin with you and it was beginning to be really concerning.

"i just want to spend time with my boyfriend, why won't you let me?" he pleads and you hear a locking of a door and can only assume he went to the bathroom for privacy in his upcoming breakdown, "do you not want to see me? are you hiding something?"

"i'm not and that's the truth, i just really need to go and buy groceries." you say calmly, already familiar with this routine.

"then why?! why can't i come? why? why don't you want to see me?" he questions, voice getting weaker and weaker. you can't see it, but he begins sliding down the door of the bathroom, stressfully running a hand through his hair. he begins hyperventilating. "why don't you want me with you?"

"we can see each other after my errands and after your classes," you explain, trying to tough it out even though your empathy is telling you to pity the man.

"[name], i really need to see you, please, please just let me come," he breathes out, words becoming a stuttering mess that is hard to understand through the phone, "please, let me see you, beautiful boy, please, please, please,"

he begins repeating the word "please" over and over again and at that point you begin wondering if it's even worth it to keep arguing with him over this. he's only going to get more adament in coming along. you curse yourself for even texting him that you were busy a couple of minutes ago because that is what made this reaction occur.

"please, i'll be quiet and good, you won't even know i'm there. i won't get in the way, i just want to be with you!"

#yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x male reader #male reader #clingy yandere #yandere male reader #yandere male #new yandere oc unlocked!#clingy yandere boy elliot

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peachybeom · 1 year

Text

Valentine Blues

Taehyun x reader

ex-best friends to lovers

Please reblog if you like this!

You were currently experiencing the worst day ever and were about one more tragedy away from having a breakdown.

Huffing violently you stood in the middle of an alleyway, watching your home route bus disappear with the main traffic.

Your phone beeped at the same time and you reached for it while taking rest on a wall nearby.

[10:51pm] Roomate.

Hey Y/n,

I just wanna thank you again for staying out tonight!! Because of you me and Josh can FINALLY enter the home base tonite and get extra juicy iykwim ;)))

Happy Valentines day babes!

Okay yeah now you can feel the breakdown coming.

You were so engrossed in storming all the libraries in town, looking for a specific book for your asshole Professor, to get him to reward you some extra credit, that you had conveniently forgot the stupid promise you had made to your roommate.

As much as you wanted to crash on the soft mattress of your bed and mute the world for rest of the weekend, you weren't desperate enough to walk into your roommate having sex with her co worker while roleplaying as a nurse.

In your peripheral vision, you could see couples huddled together, walking hand in hand. Some sharing an ice cream, others practically devouring each other with their intense stares.

Love was definitely in the air, and it made you nauseous. It wasn't that you were anti love or something, in the past you actually looked forward to this cliche holiday.

But recently you had managed to convince yourself that after several bitter breakups and unrequited crushes, being in a loving, healthy relationship seemed just impossible for you at this point.

Shaking your head, you pushed aside all the pointless worries and tried to focus on your current problem which was being homeless for the night.

You racked your brain to think which one of your crackhead friend would be available to offer you a lodging.

Kai? No. You knew he had plans with his girlfriend in her dorm to watch some random Disney movie and cry like a baby while she consoled him.

Soobin? Doubtful. His still had problems prioritising his girlfriend over odi, so that was a territory you didn't want to enter.

Beomgyu and Jeongin? Never. Those two would definitely be somewhere wasted in a club while they humped their way through another round of beer pong. They had actually tried to convince you for an entire week to join them at the club tonight and form a 'Singles Union', An association which helped each other to get laid. No way you were walking into that trap again.

That left you with Yeonjun- ehhhh. You actually had no idea what he was upto. Last time you heard from him, he was 'Single like a Pringle and definitely ready to Mingle'- his words not yours.

Sighing, you crossed your fingers as you dialled his number on your phone. Hopefully he could be your saving grace.

After a few rings he picked up the phone.

"Hey Junnie, I know it's kind of late and well.....Valentine's day but I really really need a favor from you," You said rushing your words. The cold weather was definitely peeking under your raging emotions.

"Oh hi Y/n, yeah sure what's up," Yeonjun replied, in a whisper.

"Yeah so I actually- I hear a woman's voice. Are you on a date?," You asked, cutting off your own words.

"Yes I am, but I can help you. What's the problem?" He answered.

To this you stifled a laugh. Choi Yeonjun on a date? The no strings attached Choi Yeonjun taking some lady out to have a nice dinner? This day was getting more trippy minute by minute.

"It's a speed dating thing. Now tell me what do you want, I don't have much time." Yeonjun said in an annoyed tone, taking the silence as a way of you teasing him.

Ah that makes so much more sense.

You almost felt bad for interrupting Yeonjun on his 'date' but you knew he was the only one who could save you right now.

So you told him about your problem.

"Hmmm you are aware that you can just crash at my place right? You already know where the key is kept, I won't be home for the night anyways" Yeonjun stated matter of factly.

Your ears perked up at his suggestion and you almost cursed yourself for not thinking about it earlier until a face flashed up in your mind.

"And what about Kang Taehyun?" You questioned grimly.

"Beggars can't be choosers Y/n. Besides it's not like he's the spawn of Satan." Your friends responded.

"But Yeonjun-,"

"Listen I have to go but consider this. It's not like you have any other option. Byee happy love day!" And then Yeonjun abruptly ended the call.

You groaned loudly and stomped your feet like a baby, earning glances from a few pedestrians. But you couldn't care less about them.

You started to weigh your options.

Spending a night at a run in shady motel full with horny couples or with your friend's roommate, the annoying, son of a gun- who also happened to be your ex bestfriend, Kang Taehyun.

After giving both of them intense thought. You decided to swallow your pride and take up Yeonjun's offer. Atleast his bed would be free of mysterious bodily fluids unlike the motel's.

After almost walking for half an hour- a consequence of missing the bus earlier, you finally reached Yeonjun's apartment.

Your feet were giving up on you and your teeth began to clatter lightly due to the cold February weather.

You could hear faint music from the other side of the door.

Great. Taehyun was home.

You weren't surprised though.

Even though you despised Taehyun, you decided to knock on the door instead of unlocking it out of common courtesy.

Nothing happened for a few moments and you knocked again. Still nothing.

Growing impatient you reached for the key and was about to use it when Taehyun opened it.

Correction: A very shirtless dripping wet Taehyun, with a towel around his waist opened the door.

"Lover boy isn't home tonight," Taehyun started with a stern tone. Oblivious to the fact that he was basically half nude standing in front of you.

"I-uh," You gulped, trying to compose yourself.

Taehyun is annoying and irritating and an asshole. His chiseled abs could not facade his shitty personality.

"Yeonjun said I could stay here tonight, Now move." You continued before making your way inside the apartment.

You did feel a bit intrusive and rude but your day had already been a mess and dealing with Kang Taehyun was icing on the cake.

Ignoring and engaging in minimum conversation with him was your goal.

Reminiscing the comfy feeling of a bed, you made a beeline for Yeonjun's room and turned the knob to open the door.

"What the fuck," A string of curse words left your mouth as you saw the room before you.

It was completely trashed and the stench of freshly applied paint almost made you dizzy.

"Yeonjun's room is being renovated, didn't he tell you that?" A voice mocked you from behind.

Taehyun was now leaning against the door frame -now fully dressed- and drying his hair with a hand towel.

You wanted to cry. You knew that this proposition was too good to be true. Breaking down over a trashed room was childish but anyone in your place would feel the same way. Everything was getting on your nerves.

There was no way you could sleep in the living room too, your fingers were already numb and your throat felt scratchy.

"I'm gonna kill him," You muttered under your breath before taking your bag and making your way to the exit only to be stopped by Taehyun midway.

"Hey I can't let you leave. Yeonjun would kill me, also not to forget you are sort of homeless aren't you?" He said raising a hand.

Your eyes widened. So he knew, great.

The last thing you wanted to be infront of him was vulnerable and embarrassed, but here you were.

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right you didn't have any other choice.

"So where will I sleep?" You asked raising an eyebrow, refusing to admit defeat.

"In there," Taehyun replied pointing to his bedroom.

"No way I'm sharing a bed with you. You pervert, " You answered him in disbelief.

But the thing was even though you hated Taehyun, you knew that he won't make a move on you without consent.

Deep down you still trusted him.

You, Yeonjun and Taehyun went way back. They were the first two people you ran into on your first day of college, when you were a naive, insecure friendless student. They were the ones who took you in and made you feel welcomed.

"Oh no, You'll take the floor," Taehyun answered bringing you back to reality.

What?

You stared at him blankly as he broke out in a fit of laughter.

"God it feels so good to have the upper hand," He continued.

Suddenly the thought of walking home alone and witnessing your roommate doing the dirty didn't phase you anymore.

So once more you picked your stuff and started walking towards the door when you felt Taehyun grab you wrist.

You'd had enough. Fuck avoiding him.

"What the hell do you want Taehyun. I've already had a crappy day as it is, spent my entire day searching a useless manuscript for that Professor dimwit, ran two fucking stations only to miss my bus home and walked here in this freezing weather with people sucking off each other's face all around me. So No, I don't have the energy to deal with your petty humiliations. Let go." You turned around lashing at him.

Your fists were bawled and your lips quivered. Taehyun always worked you up, he made you feel weak and vulnerable and you hated him for that.

Something changed in Taehyun's expression and his eyes softened. He loosened his hold on your wrist as you pulled it away from him.

"You can take the room. I didn't plan on sleeping there anyways, got some assignments to finish," Taehyun finally spoke up, his voice soft and laced with guilt.

You stared at him for a minute too long and then without saying another word you made your way to the room and shut it behind you.

You sunk down on the floor, once inside.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair you let out a shaky breath.

This wasn't fair. While the rest of the world was busy celebrating love and happiness with their significant others, you were left here moping in the bedroom of the boy, one you managed to successfully detach and despise in your mind for almost a year now.

The reason you were so hostile towards Taehyun wasn't because he was sort of pretentious or his face was too annoyingly perfect, it wasn't because he was so calm in situations where one shouldn't be.

The true reason was that Taehyun made you feel things that you would never allow yourself to feel.

Everything thing he used to do drove you wild. Made your heartbeat like crazy whenever he was around you, the touch of his hands, the small comforting smiles which adorned his face when your eyes met.

You were always rational with your love life, never reaching for places you couldn't but Taehyun was an exception.

He led you on, starred in all your hopeful fantasies and dreams but then left one day only to leave them shattered on the ground.

"Y/n I think you've got it wrong. It's best for us to remain friends don't you think? Best friends can't hurt each other,"

Except Taehyun was wrong. Best friends can hurt each other, they can leave scars which can take ages to heal. Those words still haunted you to this day.

He had rejected you that day.

But it wasn't the response that upset you the most, it was the shitty excuse he gave you, because the promise to remain friends was just as difficult. You could never look at him the same way again, the pain eventually grew into hatred and here you were now.

Holding back tears, you finally looked around the room. Nothing had changed since the last time you've been here, Taehyun had always been a pretty minimalistic person. Everything felt the same except for two photo frames which were placed on his bedside table.

You went up and examined the two pictures closely. One was of the day when Yeonjun, Taehyun and you decided to take a spontaneous road trip to your home town. A smile spread across your lips as you recalled the happy memories.

However it was the second picture which earned a gasp from you. In it, you were shoving a handful of Chocolates into Taehyun's mouth laughing while he looked at the camera with mischievous eyes, hands wrapped around your arms.

You couldn't understand why Taehyun would still keep this picture with him, nevertheless framed and on his bed side table.

Before you could think about anything else, you felt a knock on the door. Startled you dropped the frame on the bed and went ahead to open it.

Taehyun stood there in front of you, holding a jumper in his hands.

"I have to grab some books and here, I figured you would be cold," His expression still apologetic.

His hair was messy and a hint of sleepiness evident in his eyes.

You took the sweater from him and moved to the side to let him in.

Your heart skipped a beat when you brought the jumper closer to your face. It smelled like him.

"I'm sorry Y/n. I acted like an asshole earlier," Taehyun said minutes after, eyes still settled on his giant bookshelf.

For a moment you didn't know how to respond but then you spoke,

"I'm sorry too for lashing out on you, it's just today's been a pain in the ass for me,"

As you were speaking you realised, how much time it had been since the two of you spoke without bickering, let alone apologize to each other.

"I thought you'd probably be out tonight celebrating," He continued now looking at you.

You scoffed at this.

"My love life has been in shambles since forever," you replied letting out a pathetic laugh.

Since you.

"Same for me, if that makes anything better,"

Even though the three of you did not hang out together anymore. Yeonjun always used to give you updates on Taehyun's life even though you pretended not to care.

You had no idea where this conservation was leading. At any moment you could ask him to leave, but there was piece of you that wanted him to stay just like it did a year ago.

"Actually I- uh got something to give you, just a second," Taehyun said abruptly before leaving the room.

He exited the room in such a hurry that you didn't even have time to process what he said.

Something for you? What could it be? The thumping of your heart making it hard to concentrate on anything.

The door opened again and this time Taehyun returned with a mug in his hand.

He stood beside you next to the bed and placed the mug in your hands.

"What's this?" You asked him, puzzled.

"I know the circumstances aren't the best but I couldn't break the promise," Taehyun replied, his expression soft and a little embarrassed.

You still couldn't get it.

"I can't cook or bake to save my life so here's some hot chocolate instead....Happy Valentines Day Y/n."

That's when it hit you. A few years ago you and Taehyun had made a made a pact with each other, for every valentine's if either of you were single or sulky the other person's job would be to look out for them and cook them a 'comfort' food of their choice.

Taehyun remembered. Of course he did, that explains that picture he kept on his nightstand.

You were overwhelmed to say the least.

"Hopefully this makes everything just a bit better," Taehyun finished off.

That's when you heard your own sniffs and felt a tear running down your cheek.

Taehyun looked at you with a panicked expression as he sat beside you and opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

"I can't do this anymore Taehyun, it's too unbearable. I did everything to get over this Despised you, avoided you but I'm just so weak. I'm pathetic," Even though your vision was blurry, you could still clearly see Taehyun's sculpted face in front of you.

It was pathetic really. The facade you managed to pull off for so long came undone the moment he confronted you.

Beomgyu and Jeongin would probably laugh their heads off and label you a loser if they ever got to know about this.

But Taehyun pulled you into a hug, his warm embrace enveloping the whole of you.

"Don't say that, I hurt you and it's my fault. I was a coward Y/n, I didn't want to ruin or complicate things but it only caused pain for both of us,"

He pulled back to face you.

"I know I can't ever make up for the things I said that day, but- fuck it I miss you. There are so many things I want to say that I couldn't back then but most importantly Y/n I- I love you."

Although your mind was an emotional mess. Hearing those three words from Taehyun made the butterflies in your stomach wild. The school girl crush, the giddy feeling you felt everytime Taehyun was near you returned.

"Same," you blurted out meekly not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences.

This earned a wide grin from Taehyun, giving a perfect view of his pearly white teeth and adorable eye whiskers.

He placed a hand on your cheek, wiping the tears and then leaned in dangerously close.

"May I?" He whispered against you lips and without thinking twice you smashed your them against his. This exact moment, you dreamt of it countless time. Being in Taehyun's arms was something you thought you could only see in your dreams. Actually you still weren't sure if this all was real or you were just lost in another dreamland. .

"I've missed you so much y/n oh my god" Taehyun breathed against your lips.

What eventually started soft and slow turned hot and steamy in a matter of seconds. Hands roaming all over and your entire body melting into his.

When Taehyun slipped his hands under your jumper to take it off you suddenly pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.

"What happened, did I do something wrong?" Taehyun asked with a worried look.

You shook your head quickly and pointed to the mug now placed on the nightstand.

"The hot chocolate will get cold," You replied.

Hearing this, Taehyun visibly relaxed and entwined his fingers with yours.

"I can make you a thousand cups of hot chocolate later but right now let's focus on us," He said in a deep voice, laying you down further on the bed.

"Am I really going to get laid with Kang Taehyun on fucking Valentine's day? Past us would be cringing so hard," You teased him further.

Taehyun replied by burying his face in your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day baby. Lets believe in love again."

The next day when you woke up to a naked Taehyun sleeping peacefully beside you. You had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that this wasn't a dream.

Never in a million years you thought such a disastrous day could have such a perfect ending.

Taking a sip of the cold chocolate milk from the night before, you started down at his beautiful face.

He gently stirred beside you, eyes opening slowly.

"Good morning, you're real" He speaks in a hoarse voice, eyelids still heavy with sleep.

"Yes Tyun, I am" You smiled at his cute state.

Taehyun pulled you closer to his side and whispered in your hair, "Did I tell you, you make all my problems go away"

"Speaking of problems-" You started but were cut off by the loud bang of a door opening.

"Hey Taehyun, Did Y/n come here- WHAT THE FUCK MY POOR EYES. DO YOU TWO NOT KNOW THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE LIVING IN THIS HOUSE" Yeonjun screamed covering his eyes.

You giggled at Yeonjun's mortifying reaction and slipped yourself deeper into the sheets.

"You're the one walking in without knocking, get the fuck out yeonjun" Taehyun screamed back, throwing a pillow at his direction.

943 notes · View notes

that-weeb-in-ur-closet · 3 months

Text

"Please, just... Let me. Let me love you?"

Ft: Suguru Geto.

incl: Smut, best friends, lesbian/Aromantic f!reader, public sex, plane sex, virgin!reader, a bit of blood, cherry popping, but most of it is really soft and light. ^^

wc: 4-5k? A lot I guess.

pairing: virgin!female!reader x In love!Suguru Geto.

Note from the author: Hey!! I got like a thousand votes for Geto Smut, so I hope ya'll like this. I got the idea based on myself (a narcissist, yes), but I'm a lesbian, I hate rl guys, but... Anime Boys. Enjoy!!

Geto likes you. Romantically, sexually...

And he's not afraid to admit it. He tells you it all the damn time. You're his best friend, you think he loves you as that, and he just jokes about the romantic and sexual love, but he wants to be more. You definitely don't. You don't like him or men in general.

But he just can't see why you don't want him. You told him you don't like anyone, and he believes you, but he doesn't wanna. Nevertheless, you both are still friends. Best friends.

Having a mental breakdown? Call Suguru.

Need to open a jar? Suguru gotchu.

Need advice on an outfit? - call Shoko, but, you get it.

Today, you are going to fly to America to visit your family. And you're bringing him, of course, because you absolutely need him on this 12-hour flight. And he's happy to go, why would he say no? You're his best friend.

So, that's where you both are. On the plane. You got the window seat, Suguru sitting next to you, and an older, pretty girl on the outside of the row, next to you both. Suguru is slightly happy you two got to sit by a pretty girl, but you? You couldn't care less about that. There are no babies, children, or old people, just people, you're age and adults, so about 18-30.

Suguru is pleased. He's happy as hell. He gets to be with you for 12 hours and only sees good-looking people so far. You, again, couldn't care less. You just stare out the window of the plane, quietly admiring the clouds that float around.

After a few hours, everyone settled in, no noise or talking, it's pretty calm. Suguru is pretending to read a book, just wanting to look at you without your knowledge. You are on your phone, have been for a while- when the plane starts to hit turbulence. You already have your seat belt on, so dose Suguru, so that's not what you're worried about. It's the feeling of your seat rubbing and grinding against your clit as you unwilling bounce in your seat. The feeling is pleasant, but damn, of all the times? On a plane? Next to a stranger? Oh, even worse, next to your best friend.

You try to hide your little moans and whines, but Suguru hears them when the turbulence starts to pick up. The pilot speaks on the speakers, a calm and reassuring voice that does NOTHING to help with your situation.

"Hello, passengers, it appears we've hit a bit of turbulence. Not to worry, it'll just be a moment. We would recommend you put on your seatbelt incase you fall off your seat."

The pilot then turns off the speaker as you continue to quietly moan from the sensation in your shorts. Suguru hears every single one. He's getting aroused, never before hearing those noises out of you. He's fantasized about it countless times in the past, but hearing it right now, it can't be real.

You look over to him and see his slightly widened eyes, along with his mouth being partly agape and his hand pressed against his crotch underneath his blanket.

You take biology. You're also not an idiot. You know what a boner is. And the tell-tale signs that a man has one, and the reasons they would have one. You are kicking yourself in the inside for letting this happen, but also getting slightly aroused by the few people looking at you two.

The turbulence doesn't stop. it's been going on for a minute or so, isn't slowing down, and is still making you bounce in your seat. Your panties are getting a bit more moisture in them, along with your clit being rubbed against the seat. You cover your mouth, but right as you do, Suguru takes your hand off your mouth and leans in a bit closer, which shocks you.

"Ohhh, no, no, pretty girl. I can't let you hide those... Those wonderis sounds from me. Not now."

He says with a seductive look in his eyes, whispering so nobody else can hear. He's practically violating you from how close he is, inches away, pressing himself against your side.

Nobody even looks at you both, not hearing anything, except the select few who can faintly hear your moans and whimpers. Suguru doesn't care at all, and a few seconds later, you're both in the airplane bathroom.

You don't like him. You don't like men. You don't like dick, you don't like how men smell, you don't like how they treat women, you don't like imagining sucking a man off, you don't like imagining a dick inside of you, or swallowing cum, it makes you grossed out.

Yet here you are, in a moment of weakness and arousal, with Suguru's lengthy cock inside of your virgin cunt, softly pushing in and out, making sure to hit your g-spot, hitting it in an angle to feel just how deep he is.

He always imagined this would happen. Him fucking you. Him being your first. He shaves every day, makes sure not a single hair is anywhere except his head, because he knew that would gross you out. How sweet.

You are covering your mouth as some of your blood and his pre-cum drips from your cunt, the feeling painful yet pleasurable, one that's hard to describe to a virgin. That's why you've never had sex. You don't like men, and nobody ever told you just how euphoric and perfect it feels.

He's slow and sensual, feeling every one of your muscles rub against him, feeling every squeeze, every breath, every heartbeat, every sound you make that ripples inside of him. He's thought about this. He's thought about it so many times. Fucking you from the front, you pressed against the sink inside the cramped bathroom. He looks down at you, your eyes crossing, your body moving in what feels like 80 steps for one motion, rigid and slow, back arching and head facing the other way.

"I don't like men.. I don't like men... I don't like men... I don't like men..." You repeat in your head again and again. And it's true, you don't. You like the feeling of this man inside of you. You like the feeling of his dick, not his dick. You like the feeling it gives you. You love that feeling.

He loves you. Your body. Your perky titties. Your voice. Your hair. Your eyes. Your smile. Your moans. The subtle shake of your legs. Your fucked-out face. Your personality. Your nose. Your lips. Your eyelashes. Every single thing, he adores it. And you're letting him adore even more of you.

He doesn't pick up the pace, going at a nice and slow pace, fast enough to cum, but smooth and caring, holding your waist as he tenderly slides in and out of you. It's your first time. He knows it hurts. He knows. That's why he's treating you so softly, right? Not because he actually loves you that much... Right?

That's what you think, trying to believe it. He kisses you softly, and you kiss back, enjoying the moment. You don't like him, he knows it, you know it, right? This is a one-time thing to help you, right? Just because you were struggling, right? Just because it'll feel better when you fuck yourself in the future, right?

You think again after he breaks the kiss. But this time, you don't believe it. The way he looks at you with love and affection in his half lidded eyes, so gently caressing your waist with his thumb, his flowing deep breaths. He kisses you again, so smoothly and tenderly that you forget completely about the pain of his dick inside you.

There are very few moments when his lips are fully connected to yours, lapping from one to another, licking your bottom lip to rub his against it slowly, kissing to the rhythm of his breathing, slowed and sensual. You can feel every little movement, the small smile on his lips, just enjoying everything about this. He thinks it's a dream, and prays he never wakes up.

He slows down his hips almost completely when you both cum at the same time. It's not a super big moment, as the fluids slowly drip from his cock and out of your cunt, onto the floor. It's enjoyable. It hits you both with a rush of pleasure and dopamine, but he doesn't break the kiss. He's breathing slightly heavier from the orgasm, as are you, but just in heaven at this.

It's so incredibly soft. Gentle. Sweet. Loving. Genuine. Caring. Tender. He actually loves you, as you've come to realize after this experiment.

*ahem*

Even after he finally broke the kiss, he sat you on the sink and cleaned you off. He never once broke eye contact with you when he was wiping you off, just staring at you with a small smile and loving eyes. He occasionally locks and kisses random spots of your body, admiring it.

This all still shoked you, even after everything. Once you got back to your seats, he held your hand the rest of the trip, not once letting go. He kept saying "I love you" almost every five minutes. It wasn't normal, but it wasn't that much of a weird thing for him.

He kept expecting you to say it back.

... Do you love him?

(Lemme know what to write next if you liked this. ^^)

#jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #suguru geto #suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto #geto suguru #satoru #getou suguru #im bored #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #geto smut #suguru

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vettelsvee · 1 month

Text

JUST LIKE YOU | Oscar Piastri Prologue

<- PREVIOUS PART | JUST LIKE YOU MASTERLIST | NEXT PART ->

warnings: curse words, my very much created version of the vettel family (seb is married to diana vettel, his former race engineer), claire's parents being trash. christmas time! english not being my first language so sorry in advance for any mistake <3

taglist: just tell me in the comments if you wanna be tagged in the following parts!

a/n: would you like me to post Sebastian and Diana's fanfiction, History?

2022 December 20th Switzerland

Claire

If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that there was no way in hell I should be here, on the other side of the world, getting off a plane after nearly 25 hours of flight and a layover, and just two days shy of turning twenty-one.

Or maybe there was.

I don't know.

My parents were not at all pleased that their only daughter preferred to go with a woman, a mother and married to my uncle's arch-rival for a decade now, to try to solve the little existential crisis I was having now that I had only about five months left of university.

My uncle's wife thought the same, but since I had never liked her, if my parents' opinion didn't matter to me at all, hers mattered even less.

Mark was the only one who encouraged me to go to Switzerland to see Sebastian and Diana Vettel. I'm sure that more than the conversation he had with the engineer, seeing me crying and with smudged makeup after the three and a half hours of video call with the woman, was what convinced him in the end. Obviously, we didn't achieve my goal either: figuring out what the hell to do with my life once I finished the damn studies.

Seb must be in the arrivals area. Emily wanted to go with him. I'm sorry I couldn't go, someone had to stay with Charlie and Matilda.

After seeing Diana's message and answering her not to worry about anything, I hurried out of Zurich Airport as quickly as I could in search of the father and daughter so as not to keep them waiting much longer, all while controlling my nerves about meeting them again.

We were in the midst of the Christmas season, and that was possibly the main reason why even the last nook of the airport was crowded. Also, why my fear for crowded spaces was growing.

I tried to stay calm, focusing on the noise my suitcase wheels and my sneakers made against the pavement. I breathed in and out several times until I felt the anxiety decreasing, while at the same time I had to force myself to keep moving among the crowd when I could barely pass through, ignoring the curious stares of those around me, and the occasional stupid comments about how today's youngsters didn't have manners.

Every time someone passed near me, I tried to recognize one of the two faces I was expecting to see, but it seemed that the mission of finding the Vettels was going to end up being much more difficult.

"Clare, Clare!"

A childish voice shouting my name made me stop in the middle of the road and turn in the direction of the sound, trying to figure out where it was coming from. In the distance, apart from the crowd, next to a pearly white Tesla and a girl with curly, completely blonde hair, I spotted a tall figure with long hair, a headband misplaced on the forehead, and sunglasses.

Sebastian had his hand raised in a greeting gesture, telling me to head towards them.

"Clare, it's great to see you again!"

The blonde wrapped me around his arms, and all I could do was laugh at the mere thought of telling my ten-year-old self that I would feel so comfortable with the person I once hated the most in the world.

"I would say the same, but I'm really tired and not in the mood to talk," I lied, although partly it was true. What I didn't want was to face that conversation, at least not yet. "I missed you. Well, I missed you all," I admitted.

"We've been apart for a month, Webber. Both you and I, and Di, and your uncle, thought it was going to be longer."

"Thank my mental breakdown for that then, and also that your wife is my personal Tony Stark," I laughed.

"Again with the Marvel references?" he raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "I won't judge: Di is my particular MJ, or my Gwen except she isn't dead."

I didn't have time to answer or to calm my laughter because Emily, with the typical energy of an eight-year-old, approached me bouncing around. The eldest of the Vettels reached a little below my chin, and I realized she was no longer the baby that Seb and Di used to take to the paddock every race weekend and with whom I used to play. I assumed it was the same for Charlotte and Matilda.

"Look what I drew for you!" the blonde said proudly as she handed me a paper.

I took it and admired it tenderly, carefully observing the childlike strokes that seemed to represent her parents and her sisters, with me as a special guest, as if I were one more in the family. Obviously, there couldn't be missing a Christmas tree to our right, filled with presents.

"It's very beautiful, Emily! Thank you very much," I responded as cheerfully as I could given my weariness. "Do you want us to show it to Mark when we get home and I talk to mom?"

"Yes!"

The German looked at us after putting my belongings in the car's trunk and intervened again:

"Emily has been counting the days for your arrival," he revealed, leaving me a little surprised.

"And Charlie and Matilda too. Matilda speaks baby language, and we don't understand her, but she claps every time when we talk about you," the girl added. "Since mom told us you were coming to spend a few days with us at Christmas, we asked Santa in our letters to bring you a present."

"Well, Di and I were also looking forward to your arrival," the retired driver blushed, scratching his head shyly.

I didn't know what to say, and Vettel seemed to realize it. He tried to say something else, but he ended up just telling us to get into the car because there were still about forty-five minutes to go to the family house.

I sat in the back of the car at Emily's request, and as I chatted with her and her father about how the family was doing after retiring from Formula 1, how they felt about the upcoming filming of History, the documentary where they would talk about their lives and uncover things that hadn't been made public before, and especially about the topic that worried me the most, where I could do my internships for the last semester of university, I let the whirl of thoughts invade me gradually.

After all, it wasn't every day that you set aside your own family to spend the most family-oriented time of the year with another family member less, going to the other side of the world.

Unfortunately, I didn't think that the people who created me, especially my father, would say that all this confusion I had been carrying for longer than I'd like to admit, and that I had kept silent for so long, was just an excuse to continue living off the cuff or because, simply, I didn't feel like continuing to study.

"Are you okay, Claire?"

The concern in Sebastian's voice brought me back to earth. I saw his eyes staring at me through the rearview mirror, quickly diverting his gaze from the road.

"Yes, of course. I'm just tired from the trip, as I told you before," I lied. The forced smile and tension in my voice showed the opposite.

"Are you going to be with us for all Christmas holidays?"

The girl's question, so simple and innocent, made all my pent-up doubts increase. I knew there was a remote possibility that I hadn't made the right decision, and after hearing that, I was becoming more and more sure.

Diana reassured me more times than I'd like that they didn't mind having me there as part of the family because I already was. My parents told me to do whatever I wanted, that I was old enough to make my own decisions, and that if it wasn't now, it was only a matter of time before I left for any little thing.

The disdain and arrogance with which they gave me their response made me pack my bags and call Mark to pick me up as soon as he could.

"Yes, Emily. Claire will be with us for all Christmas holidays" the German replied for me.

"Why aren't you going to spend the holidays with your mom and dad?"

I felt the knot that was already in my throat tightening more and more. I looked at Seb, begging him to help me while I tried to find an answer to the innocence of the girl without being rude or revealing to her that maybe I didn't have as cool parents as hers.

"Emily, sweetheart, that's not something you ask," Sebastian immediately reprimanded his daughter as calmly as he could, stroking her leg from his seat.

"Sorry..." the little one said with a melodic voice. I thanked him with my eyes, to which he responded with a simple tilt of his head.

"It's okay!" I hastened to say to avoid saddening her, wrapping my left arm around her. "Sometimes, parents and kids... argue, but in the end, they always make up and recognize their mistakes. Does that happen to you with mom and dad?"

"Yes!" she responded immediately. "I also argue sometimes with my sisters over toys or food, and mom scolds us, although dad almost never gets mad at us."

The conversation continued without any further altercation or mention of anything I didn't want to hear. I greatly appreciated it because time ended up passing faster than I thought, and in the blink of an eye, I could already see the dark wooden structure with white tones where I assumed the family lived.

When I spotted Diana, with Matilda in her arms, greeting us as if her life depended on it, and Charlie playing with Clifford, the family dog, I knew I had arrived at one of my second homes.

"Home sweet home, girls!"

Before the blonde even had a chance to turn off the engine and say anything else, his daughter and I were already running down to go towards his wife.

Emily, without even greeting her mother beyond a slight wave, went to play with her middle sister and with the Great Pyrenees. Diana shook her head, laughing at her daughter's attitude. She put little Matilda on the ground and, to my surprise, she started running through the grass trying to catch up with her sisters and the dog.

"Has she learned to walk already?" I pointed to the little one while the redhead gave me a hug.

"I thought you were coming so we could talk about you and your future, not so you could see the not really important progress of my family in the month we've been apart."

"I can see you didn't have sex with Seb tonight, huh? What a mood," I whispered sarcastically in her ear. She burst out laughing and started hitting my arm.

"Don't be silly! Come on, let's go inside. It's cold and we have a lot to talk about. I don't want you to catch a cold."

Calling her daughters next, who initially resigned themselves to go back home, I finally headed inside with Diana. Seb approached us shyly, as if he didn't want to bother us. Seeing him out of the corner of my eye, and out of respect, I let him pass in front of me and slowed my pace a bit, falling a little behind the couple, but that didn't stop me from seeing how the German took his wife by the waist and gave her a short kiss on the lips, showing the affection and complicity that I already knew they both had.

I wish I had something like that in the future but, as my parents must have known, who would want me with my shitty attitude?

"Claire, sweetheart, make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

Diana disappeared, and her daughters and husband followed her. I decided to listen to her and sat on the couch, taking a blanket that was on it to wrap myself up. After a few minutes, I spotted her again, now approaching Seb to exchange a few words in a low voice while sharing quite a few caresses for my taste and, once again, another kiss.

In a matter of seconds, the engineer disappeared and reappeared with a tray in her hands that had a couple of glasses, several beverage cans, and a colorful variety of snacks that I didn't recognize.

However, some of them were typical Australian ones. The ones from my home. My home.

I hated that Diana Vettel was one of the most amazing and humble people I had ever met because each time she made me feel more like I wanted her to adopt me, regardless me being 21 already.

"Damn, it's like you bought the whole supermarket," I commented under my breath as a defense mechanism to avoid bursting into tears.

"For you whatever it takes, darling," she answered, sitting next to me and taking a bit of the blanket to wrap herself with it too.

I stayed silent, moved by her words. Since I didn't know how to start our conversation, nor did I know if it was the right time to have it, I just looked at Sebastian, who was now in some kind of greenhouse with his daughters, teaching them what seemed to be how to plant some kind of vegetable or who knows what.

"I know it was hard for him, but he's happy," the redhead suddenly spoke, pointing to her husband. "I tried to convince him not to retire yet, and he tried everything to get me to accept the offer to be Mick's engineer at Williams," she explained. Did Diana turn down the offer to be Schumacher's engineer this upcoming season? "But I guess it was time for us to be a normal family."

"You've always been a normal family in my eyes," in a strange way, yes. They had lived from Emily's birth in 2014 until just a month ago more in any other country in the world than in this house. I would swear that it would even feel strange for them to be here for so long. "And you, how are you?"

The woman seemed surprised by the question. I knew her well, but not as much as I would like, and I knew that this was one of her typical reactions. I also knew about some difficult things for her thanks to my uncle, and others because they became public, like the alleged leaked porn video starring her and Sebastian.

However, all the negativity didn't detract from the fact that my admiration for her was maximal since I met her in 2012.

"I know you're in charge of the F1 Academy with Susie," I continued, seeing that she was still in her trance, "but I guess it's not the same as being on the pit wall directing your husband and trying to make the sport a little more inclusive in all aspects."

"You said it, it's not the same. I miss and, at the same time, don't miss being in Formula 1," she finally confessed. "Feeling so undervalued when you're trying to give so much more than your maximum... it's tough. It's hard to feel like you're enough and that you're worth something, not to mention the constant thought of whether you really deserve what you've achieved."

"For me, and probably for Seb and many others, you're more than enough, Diana. I told you when I was ten, and I still think the same: I want to be like you when I grow up."

"And I told you that you don't have to be like me, but your own version," she added. "No matter what happens, you always have to be yourself, Claire, not trying to be someone you admire."

She lowered her head, shaking it, and then raised it again to look directly at me. I saw how the greenish tone of her eyes was covered by tears that, in a way, made me feel bad for her because it wasn't my intention to make her feel bad.

"You'll become like me if you want then, darling," she continued, her voice almost breaking. "I'm more than convinced, and I'll help you as much as I can to make it happen. After all, that's why you're here, right?"

Damn, the topic I just didn't want to talk about had finally come up, but I knew I had to address it.

I didn't know if I preferred to face my uncertain future or my partially dysfunctional family.

"Yeah. That my family sucks is another reason why I'm here," I grumbled.

"What happened, darling?" she took my hands and pulled me closer to her. I rested my head on her shoulder, and she started stroking my hair, as she had often seen herself do with her daughters. "We can leave the conversation about that extensive work world for another day, but not about your parents. I know it's affecting you no matter how much you try to show otherwise with that armor you put on."

The sigh that escaped my lips was heavy, as if I needed it to start slowly unloading the heavy burden I had on me.

"I don't know why my parents don't understand me," I started, my voice directly charged with frustration and, let's not say it, sadness. "I don't know what the hell to do with my life," I heard Diana scolding me for the curse word, but I didn't care, "and it bothers me that they can't put themselves in my shoes when, look, they've already been in my shoes."

"Claire..."

"Damn it, Diana, I'm their only daughter. If they don't want to support me, they could just refrain from giving it to me, not tell me that all this is an excuse to keep studying or... I don't know, not to start working or whatever bullshit they come up with."

The woman looked at me with compassion, nodding her head. She didn't know it, but something inside me was sure that she did understand me, and it hurt that it was just a person who hardly belonged in my life and not those who had given it to me.

"It's normal for you to feel this way, in the work field I mean," thanks for changing the subject, Mrs. Vettel. "I went through it in early 2011 when I saw that my graduation was getting closer and, therefore, the end of my contract as a trainee," she replied. I knew she wasn't the only one, I knew it. "If ninety percent of me sensed that they wouldn't renew me, the remaining ten percent thought I wouldn't even continue working in Formula 1. Obviously, with too much luck and thanks to a lot of Seb's influence, it was the opposite."

She took a sip of water, put a small Reese's in her mouth and, putting her hand in front of her mouth, continued:

"They say that choosing what you want to dedicate yourself to, supposedly, for the rest of your life is the worst part, but no one warns you that the end of the journey is the worst part of it," she said honestly. For God's sake, was this woman good at everything? "I know how hard it must be for you to feel this way, especially when you expect support and being understood from those who should give it to you the most. Luckily, you have your uncle and your aunt, just like I had my uncle and my aunt."

"Eloise is my uncle's wife, that doesn't make her my aunt. Not to mention the shitty behaviors she has towards me," I corrected her coldly.

"I've also been a victim of that snake, and I ended up blaming it on your uncle, so don't worry."

"The thing is, it's frustrating, you know?" I continued, ignoring the last thing she had said. "Knowing that you can't be honest and you have to constantly pretend to be the perfect daughter."

"Nobody's perfect, Claire, and as long as you're here, with us, these days, I won't allow you to be," the redhead assured me. "You can be honest about anything without fear of being judged by us, because it won't happen."

I looked up at her and was surprised. It was the first time someone, besides Mark, had taken my side and understood me.

"You're not going to take my parents' side?"

"I don't have to excuse them when I think they're not right," she revealed. "Being a parent is... difficult, and when you're all born, you don't come with a manual on how we should educate and raise you under your arm, and they don't give it to us later either, right? But there is something in which I understand your parents.

"In what?"

Diana Vettel directed her gaze towards where her daughters and husband still were. She chuckled softly and glanced back at me, giving my thigh a little tap.

"You'll understand someday if you ever become a mother, or care about someone so much that you always want them by your side."

Before I could even respond, she got up from the couch, swiftly tossing off the blanket, which ended up falling on my face. Her bare feet thudded heavily on the floor as she moved quickly, heading towards the stairs, forcing me to run to catch up with her.

"Where the hell are you going?" I shouted, breathless, gripping the staircase railing to catch my breath.

She didn't respond beyond telling me to watch my language, as the girls might hear us. I admired her as a mother, but sometimes she was so good at it that it exhausted me. The only consolation was knowing that Seb often let out curses in front of their daughters and prayed to whoever was with them not to tell Di, as he fondly called her.

"Diana, I would truly appreciate it if you could let me know in advance if you're planning any outings. I've been on a plane and in an airport all day, and there's nothing I want more right now than to crawl into bed and pray that jet lag doesn't hit me."

"Shush," she immediately responded as she sat down in front of the computer on the desk in what seemed to be her office. "I've been thinking about something for a few days now, and we need your uncle's help."

My uncle? How was Mark going to help me with my existential crisis, to shelter me in his house?

No way. I'd have to endure his wife, and I'd pay all the money in the world not to see his face.

"Mark isn't going to help us, I'm telling you," I replied, getting a bit annoyed by the uncertainty. "Who do you think he is, Cinderella's fairy godmother or something?"

"No," she said, scrolling through her FaceTime contacts until she found one labeled M. Webber, just below another one labeled Lara, followed by a bunch of heart emojis and weird faces, "but he might be able to help you land an internship."

"Mark already has a lot on his plate," I began to say as the redhead pressed the call button. "Dealing with Eloise, for example, takes a lot of work, and..."

"Hello, Mark!"

My uncle's smiling face and raised hand filled the screen. I knew his smile was a bit forced because he had heard the comment I made about his wife, but as always, he turned a deaf ear.

"Well, well, what's going on over there, ladies?"

"You must be kidding..." I muttered, earning a smack on the arm from Diana. "Fine, Mark, fine," I finished, shooting them both a disgruntled look.

"The thing is, putting aside formalities, after your niece more or less told me about the little problem she has with your brother and sister-in-law, and after I've been mulling over what we talked about the other day, I've come up with something," the engineer explained.

Mark furrowed his brow slightly, a bit confused and apparently a bit worried by the words of his former teammate's wife.

"Go ahead, it's all yours."

"Claire is a bit confused about what to do with her future," I stifled a laugh. I wished it was just a bit, and all this didn't feel like it was making me want to tear my hair out, "and she also has to do her final year internship. I thought that, if possible, we could help her do it in a Formula 1 team."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I shouted "what" louder than I had ever said anything in my life. My heart started pounding at the mere thought of me, Claire Webber, in a team of the sport I loved most in the world. I even started to feel dizzy with the idea.

"Are you kidding me, right?" was all I could say to Vettel.

"Do you want Claire to be Diana Vettel 2.0?" my uncle asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Are you planning to create a pilot project and then implement it with your daughters?"

"Neither one thing nor the other," the woman replied, quite agitated, crossing her arms. "Your niece doesn't need to be the second version of anyone. She's already her own version."

My uncle fell silent, realizing he had screwed up royally. Diana, on the other hand, tried not to make a big deal out of it, although she knew it might have affected him. She asked me to take the chair from what used to be Seb's desk and sit next to her, and so I did.

"According to the Teaching Plan of the University of Melbourne, Claire should start her internship period next January. The season doesn't start until March, but she could try to request some kind of leave," Diana explained in detail. I was pleasantly surprised that she had informed herself so much, and especially that she offered to help me.

"Don't worry, Diana. I can look for another place to..."

"As I told you before, I haven't forgotten that since we met in 2012, you've been telling me that you wanted to be like me," she interrupted. "Every time we've had the chance to spend time together, you've emphasized your dream of wanting to be part of this world, so if you not only have the chance but also the talent to make it happen, that's how I'm going to try to do it."

I nodded, accepting her proposal and everything that came with it. If this was my chance to pursue my biggest dream, and I could do it hand in hand with my own Tony Stark, then I had to make the most of it.

"So I should go starting from early March, right?" my uncle wanted to know, seemingly agreeing with everything.

"Yes, but I think it would be even better if she went to the preseason tests," the redhead asserted, getting closer and closer to the screen. "Maybe that way she can make herself seen and, perhaps, do something to get noticed by a team..."

I stopped paying attention to the conversation they were having because my eyes drifted to the back of the image emanating from my uncle. I saw as the door behind him slowly opened, revealing the figure of a guy I had never seen in my life.

His light brown hair fell slightly over his forehead. The color of his eyes was also brown, though a bit darker, and they stood out quite a bit against his fair skin. His shoulders slumped downwards, his gaze was almost downcast, and he seemed to move with such calmness that I didn't know if it was because he was tired or because he was just naturally laid-back.

"Mark," he began to say, "am I interrupting or...?"

"No, no, no worries! Come in and make yourself comfortable, Oscar!" my uncle replied. "I'm talking to Diana Vettel, who you surely already know," he greeted her with a wave and asked how she was, "and this is my niece, Claire."

"She's the one you've talked to me so much about, right? The one who's my age, studies Aerospace Engineering, and is almost as passionate about Formula 1 as I am."

Who the hell was Oscar, what the hell was he doing at my uncle's house at seven-thirty in the evening, and why did he know so much about my existence?

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lovely-showtimes · 4 months

Note

akito x reader - the reader is normally happy but then had a breakdown due to parent issues

♡ . breakdown.

character - akito.

type - scenario.

contains - implications of a bad home situation, but nothing in particular is specified.

a/n - so sorry for how long this took, nonnie T_T i lost a whole lot of motivation ... i hope this was worth the wait at least ~

Ding dong!

"Akito, go get the door."

Akito sighs in annoyance as he hears his father's voice. Begrudgingly he stands up and leaves his room, dusting off his hoodie as he goes. It was pretty late, who could be at the door at this time of night?

Akito prepares himself to put on his 'nice' persona as he opens the door, but stops immediately once he sees who's there. His heart drops into his stomach and his grip on the door tightens.

You stood in front of him, sobbing quietly and rubbing your eyes, attempting to hide your tears. You were shivering, partially from the tears and partially from the frigid night air.

Akito snaps himself out of the brief shock he felt upon seeing you so distraught and steps forward, pulling you into his arms. You wordlessly cling onto him, seeking the comfort only he can provide. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and caresses your back tenderly. It's a special type of gentleness that only you receive.

Even though the two of you are standing outside, it's the warmest you've felt all night.

Akito eventually speaks up, his voice a low murmur. "Let's go inside."

You nod feebly, allowing him to lead you inside. The moment you catch a glimpse of his room, you feel more at ease. You've been here so many times, and every time, you're treated with nothing but love and kindness. This place is infinitely more comforting to you than the place you should call "home".

Akito sits you down on his bed and tightly wraps a blanket around your shoulders, before sitting down beside you. You instinctively lean against him, causing him to hug you close to his side.

The two of you are quiet momentarily. The only sounds to be heard are the rustling of leaves outside, movement elsewhere within Akito's home, and your quiet, shaky breaths.

Before Akito can say anything, you speak up.

"S-Sorry for, uh, popping up out of n-nowhere," you mutter. "They... I-I mean, I didn't want to, well. Be there. Anymore."

You screw your eyes shut and rub your face, letting out a sigh that sends a shudder through your whole body. When you had rushed out of your home, you hadn't even thought about where you were going. You were just running, and running, and running...

...until you ended up on Akito's doorstep.

Akito snaps you out of your thoughts by resting his cheek on the top of your head. "Don't apologise, seriously. You can always come to me. Especially in a time like this."

He rubs your back. "Do you wanna stay here? While everything's, y'know, calming down."

You lift your head to look at him, which causes him to frown slightly. It's the first time he's seen your face properly tonight. He hates seeing you like this.

"Is... Is that okay?" You ask softly. "I mean, what if your parents aren't find with it?"

He shrugs. "Don't worry about it. My mom likes you, she wouldn't say no to you."

That made you feel a little better, at least. You crack a tiny smile and hide your face in Akito's shoulder again.

"Thanks," you murmur. "Can we stay here, please? For a little while?"

Akito kisses the top of your head. "Of course. I'll always be by your side, 'kay?"

"...Thank you."

#akito shinonome x reader #shinonome akito x reader #♡ ~ love letter sent!#project sekai x reader #imagines #pjsk x reader

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circeyoru · 1 month

Note

have you listened to the song "Partner in Crime" by Madilyn Mei? If not, I strongly recommend it because it makes me think of Unwanted Souls!Alastor. Specifically early days of when the reader tries to push him away

This is for {Unwanted Soul} , check MASTERLIST for the work

The one I listened to is Partners in Crime by Set it Off. But I gave this a listen and omg the lyrics are quite in sync with the story!!

Let me go on a song tangant. Stay if you wanna read.

**Heavy spoiler if you haven't caught up with this series!!!!!

You're right; this matches well in the beginning when Reader/you are trying to push Alastor away so you can go back to your little world of self-indulgence. But what happened afterwards is Alastor staying and showing you care and devotion you never had.

Now, if you keep up with everything I posted about {Unwanted Soul}, you'll know that I never planned for this oneshot to end up as a series with this much background and connections for you. So, in Part 1, it was entirely matched with the request and that long to avoid a continuation. But then you saw the results, hahahahaha~

Anyways. Part 1 never mentioned anything of a dilemma of you pushing Alastor away yet wanting him near you, the later parts did. If you piece back everything, you'll see what I mean with this song.

When you're gone I feel alone again The voices cannot hold my hand They keep me company at very best Distract me from my loneliness

Here, this is a reference to when you had that breakdown when Alastor was more than late for that grocery shopping. You hoped it work, but when it did, you just feel so lonely. Everywhere you see in the apartment, especially the living room since that's where Alastor always was. So you retreated into your room, where he barely had permission to enter. With low self-esteem and self-harming thoughts, you conjured a knife and just stabbed yourself to distract yourself from the mental pain.

Maybe I'm just an anomaly Even my demons have their families Truly something must be wrong with me To need you as much as I do

Naturally, this is a reference to your living years. You felt alienated in your life and among the people that surrounds you. Yes, you're stable and successful to the point that you don't have to worry about getting hungry or not having a house to return to. But you felt so empty with what you're doing. You wanted companionship that you can lean on. Then Alastor comes along and you tell yourself it's too good to be true and pushed him away to protect yourself from a heartache.

I was never meant to win I was never meant to win I was never meant to win Shut up!

Sidetracking, this is referring to you quitting your job as an informant for Lucifer. It's some time after you mastered the two powers you had but never used. You think it's too powerful and you're not worthy of it, so you hide it away. Then it went to thinking you're not fit to work for Lucifer, the King of Hell. Worse when you come to see him as a friend instead of your employer and superior being. It was easy to put a stop to it since Lucifer wasn't as persistent with keeping you by his side than Alastor. (haha this explained why I never put Lucifer as a love interest or show competition between him and Alastor)

Here's the reigns Take ahold of me Please don't let me go You do the talking Sew up my mouth if I can't keep it closed

This is where you basically accepted that Alastor was a yandere for you and let it progress. You know how it is with this type of character. You were just too damaged and desperate for something you longed for that you didn't care anymore. It was a good thing that Alastor saw how damaged you are by that self-harm you inflicted on yourself, better now than later when you were more firm with your feelings for him.

There's a dog barking right around the block And a big ol' whistle blow Run for it I'll keep em occupied for you Cause I love you, I love you so Left me hangin at the station But you'll be back for me soon

I'll switch the narrative here. This matches more for Alastor. This talks about the time when you sent him to the hotel to work (and leave you alone). A little interest that shouldn't be explored for or for you to personally be involved with. So Alastor does his best to keep the hotel matters at the hotel, never needing you to leave your home to investigate anything. Alastor knows you moved him out because you were caring too much and you're trying to stop it. He doesn't care, he wants you. But he'll be patient and give you time, he knows you'll be back for him. And boy was the wait worth it when he saw you fight for him.

Something tells me you aren't coming Guess that I'm truly doomed

When Alastor was nearly brought down by Adam and realized that his power wasn't enough (since it was limited by you). That moment, he was fully prepared to just teleport back to your apartment and stay there.

I'm 'bout to die Yet the only thing I find I'm worried about is you I'm 'bout to die Yet the thing on my mind seems to nearly be nothing but you

This is when, moments before your slumber, you told Alastor that you missed him and removed the rule that blocks his connection with you. You know you're not dying, maybe, but there was that slim chance. You also know that wouldn't be what Alastor thinks, and in a way, you reassure him.

I'm just a pawn in your game Not your partner in crime

You used to think that Alastor was using you for something. In fact, you looked for evidence to prove your theory. But the battles he started for you, the demons he killed for you, and the words that made up deovtion and promise to you, it all pointed against that. Isn't it all so weird?

You're slowly killing me And yet I don't mind (You were never meant to win) You're slowly killing me But please take your time

This is where you accepted that you're not gonna be able to push away Alastor anymore. So you take a back seat and let it happen. You were never meant to win against Alastor's love for you, you were never meant to push him out of your life. What Alastor's killing is the doubts and reason you have to push him away, it takes time to heal and for Alsator to find out about your past. So... You want him to take his time.

"Hey, Alastor." You smiled as you waved your hand at him to beckon him over.

"Yes, My Love?" Alastor skipped over, throwing away a demon's limb behind him comically which earned him a burst of carefree laughter from you.

In a swoft move, you pulled him to your level and gave him a butterfly kiss on the lips then stared into his eyes, "I love you, so dearly. Never leave me."

Alastor felt himself melting from your words and the plead he saw as his order to keep you forever. What ever were you thinking to suddenly say this? He won't question since you ended up demanding his attention and presence. So he smiled and nodded, "Of course. I'll never dream of leaving you. I love you too much for that to ever happen, My Beloved."

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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gizmo-writes · 10 months

Text

please, come over | wilbur soot

warnings: minors dni, mentions of sex (not with wilbur), crying, being upset, feeling used

You hugged your body, sobbing into the mattress. You were shaking, crying, you could barely breathe. You didn't know what to do, you had just had the worst night of your life and now you were laying in bed, naked, sobbing and feeling used. Your shaking hand grabbed your phone as you heard it vibrate. It was your best friend, Wilbur. "How did the date go?" The text read. You let out a sob, setting your phone down. The date was fine, but afterwards wasn't. You were okay having sex with the person, you wanted to. But what made you breakdown was what they said after, they didn't wanna see you again, they said they only went on the date to have sex. You thought you had met someone genuine but apparently you were wrong.

Wilbur got worried after you didn't respond after almost 10 minutes so he called you. You groaned, grabbing your phone. "Hello?" You answered, trying to sound like you hadn't just been sobbing. "Hey, how was the date?" He asked. "Fine." You answered quickly. Wilbur was silent for a second, "y/n? What's wrong?" He asked. "I'm fine, Wil." You answered. "You're not. Talk to me," he said. You let out a shaky breath, "can you come over?" You asked. "I- it's late." He said. "Please come over." Your voice cracked as you let out a quiet sob. "I'm on my way." Wilbur said quickly.

Wilbur showed up in no time. You pulled on a hoodie and shorts, reluctantly walking to the door and opening it. Wilbur took in your disheveled look and frowned. He hated seeing you like this and wanted nothing more than to make you feel better. "What hap-" he started but you cut him off by hugging him tightly. You cried, you couldn't help it. You were tired, upset and just needed him right now. "Okay, okay. I got you." Wilbur hugged you back, rubbing your back gently. "I'm sorry." You cried into his chest. "Don't be, just let it out." He said softly, holding your head against his chest. He'd stand here for hours holding you if it meant you'd feel better. He'd do anything for you. He didn't care what it was. He'd do anything for you and he proved that by staying all night, holding you in bed and letting you cry or talk or just sleep. He didn't care, he was going to be there no matter what.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot fanfic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x you

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dj-spiderman · 10 months

Note

I had a really bad day today. Like absolutely shit day. I would love some hurt-to-comfort fic.

I have this thing where as soon as I starts to have a break down I try to think logically as to why I shouldn't be having one and ultimately decide that it's useless and stupid so I stop

I would like just the scene of the reader having a break down, and just crying while looking emotionless or even smiling and then just sighing and saying "i don't have time for this" and completely stops crying. The character (you can decide) sees this and is completely thrown off guard.

The character obviously asks if everything is alright and tge reader is confused as to why he asked, obviously he has to be. The character just comforts the reader, cradling him in their arms and acting like they are a little kitten who was left out in the rain, and the reader starts crying again because he hasn't been comforted in a long time

So please end it with fluff where they cuddle (reader being the little spoon)

Please don't stress yourself too much, I don't know how stressful it is to write, but I oftne read some pots to net be rude to creators, and I don't want to be rude. So thank you in advance

YOU DESERVE A BREAK

- Peter B x M!reader

- Genre: comfort!!

- A/N: I hope your day gets better!! I have a similar thing when it comes to breakdowns where I get into it, but then see something funny and completely forget or just tell myself that it’s not the right time. Anywho, it’s short, sadly, but full of some sweet sweet comfort.

You and Peter has been in your dimension, you had been frustrated the whole day, trying not to breakdown. Of course, you couldn’t help it once you lost a game you were almost winning. The tears welling up in your eyes and your breaths growing to stutter as you try and hold it all back. Telling yourself it was a stupid reason to cry.

It took a minute before you were back to your normal cocky self, but Peter couldn’t shake it off.

He had just seen you breakdown before going back as if nothing happened. That couldn’t have been healthy, and so, he paused the game. Setting down his controller as he turned to face you with a look of pure concern.

“You alright?” He asked, earning a look of confusion from yourself.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be..?” Your head tilted lightly.

“You seem stressed.. do you wanna… talk about it?” Peter offers, holding his arms open awkwardly.

Something seemed to snap in your head, tears welling up again as you scramble into his grasp. Your soft cries and shaking body being soothed by the other. Reassuringly cooing and speaking.

“It’s okay.. I’ve got you, you’re alright…” there’s no pressure to speak. No need to at the moment. He’s content just holding you while you cry. “You’ve done such a good job today, you deserve a break..” he hums, resting his chin atop your head, gently rocking your bodies.

You find yourself calming in his grasp, lying your head against his chest. Listening to the pulse of his heart, eyes half lidded as you feel yourself drifting.

“That’s it, you’re okay… you deserve some rest. I’ll keep you safe.. no one will bug you.” He chuckles lightly, stroking your hair back and wiping some spare tears from your eyes.

You lean into the warm touch, finally allowing for your eyes to close and body to relax. All previous stress leaving your mind as you accept the comfort provided.

Maybe you did deserve a break..

#peter b parker x male reader #peter b x male reader #spiderverse x male reader #peter b parker #spiderverse #astv

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 5 months

Text

"Cut!"

Hi! I was remembering how some of your fics have Roman practicing conversations with the other sides in the Imagination over and over. Now, I tend to be one of those people that is almost always in my head (been mildly dissociating near constantly for almost a year now which uh- probably should get that checked out actually) and a lot of the time when I do stuff I get deja vu even if I've never done something like that before. And it's kinda gotten to the point where I'm not entirely sure if something has actually happened or not sometimes. So I was thinking maybe Roman references a conversation what he'd had with the Imagination!Sides in passing on accident, and everyone is kinda like "Princey wtf are you talking about??" And Roman panics and hides, and the next time he sees the sides he thinks that they don't wanna see him and this is a scene in the Imagination. So he gets really confused when the words he's learned will get the fake sides angry at him just are met with more concern and worry from the real sides. And they're trying to comfort him and he doesn't know what's going on and yells "CUT!" but obviously it doesn't work and now everyone is really worried and Roman can't tell between what's real and what's fake anymore and just. Has a mental breakdown. and then they comfort :D because I cannot leave this poor guy with an unhappy ending. – anon

hiii !!!! idk if you’re taking requests, and if not please ignore me, but if you are, i’m legit in love with how you write rociet with roman angst, and i would love to see more of it !!!!!! thank you !!!!!!!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: unreality/roman having trouble remembering things and figuring out what's real, self-doubt

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 4976

It begins so slowly that they don't think anything of it at first. Roman will say something that they don't remember, or he'll reference something that never happened, or he'll forget something that happened just a few days ago as though it happened several months back. Things...escalate, and soon they figure out the problem is far, far worse than they could have ever imagined.

Remus doesn't bother with asking or knocking, he just sinks into Roman's room right over his bed.

There's no yelp or screech, which means Roro's not in the bed, but he does get a surprised little squeak when he turns around from his desk.

"Ro-bro!"

"Re? I thought you were—you went—aren't you feeding Ollie right now?"

Remus frowns, sitting up. "No, that's not for another week. And you're supposed to come with me."

Roman furrows his brow, toying with his pen. "Really? I thought you said…"

He trails off, staring into nothing and Remus's frown deepens, sliding off the bed and walking over. Roman's pen stills, his grip a little too tight, and Remus nudges his shoulder. "Roro?"

It's like someone electrocuted him—Roman clicks and suddenly this wide grin that looks almost painful settles on his face and Remus blinks in surprise. "Sorry, don't know what came over me. Must've been lost in thought."

"Are you—hey!"

Roman leaps up and tackles Remus through the door into the Imagination, summoning his sword and swinging it before Remus has a chance to catch his breath. His morningstar clangs against the blade a moment later and he grins too—he's been waiting for Roman to start one of their fights for ages!

"Come on," Roman taunts, spreading his arms, "or are you just gonna lie there all day?"

"Oh, you asked for it, Roro."

Their sparring shakes the ground, yells and laughs ringing out as their weapons clash over and over and over. Remus throws back his head and howls and the Imagination responds, the sky growing dark and thick with clouds as thunder booms in the distance. Roman's sword grazes his arm and he shoves Remus hard in the chest, knocking him over.

"Do you yield?"

"Never!" He springs back up and they're off again, but Roman keeps dancing out of the way. "How're you so fast? Have you been practicing without me?"

Roman falters and Remus jams his elbow into the soft part of Roman's ribs, knocking him off-balance just enough to swat the sword from his hand. The first raindrops start to fall as Roman lands on his side, Remus's morningstar about to aim for his chest when a leg trips him and suddenly Roman's got his sword back—how did that happen?—and Remus's weapon is flying across the field.

"How the fuck—?"

"Do you yield?"

Remus snarls playfully and jumps up, tackling Roman and knocking his sword away again. Roman responds instantly, grappling across the slowly-muddying field until they end up on their backs, Roman's arm holding Remus in a chokehold as the rain pours down on them.

"Do you yield?"

"Yeah, yeah," Remus gasps, "I fucking yield. Leggo."

Roman chuckles and lets him roll off, landing face first in a mud puddle. His muscles ache but only in the good way and he flops onto his back, smiling breathlessly at the sky.

"That was fucking amazing, Roro," he gasps, "you have been practicing, haven't you?"

"Just trying to keep up with you," comes Roman's answer, just a little too quickly.

Remus doesn't think anything of it.

"Roman?"

"Hm?" Roman looks up from his spot in the corner of the living room, curled around his notebook. "Oh, hey, Padre. Is everything okay?"

Patton tilts his head. "Yeah, kiddo, why wouldn't it be?"

"Sorry, it's just, you know, everyone's been a little tense recently, what with…" Roman makes a vague gesture. "Everything. I shouldn't have assumed, though, I'm sorry."

Before Patton can ask if Roman's okay, Roman's settling his notebook to the side and standing up.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with dinner?"

An expression flickers across Roman's face, too quick to name, before he's smiling and bowing. "It would be my honor, lead the way."

At least he's alright enough for that. Patton goes over to the kitchen, Roman behind him, and reaches for the large pot at the back of the stove. "I was thinking we could try that new pasta dish that Virgil's been asking about? The one Thomas saw on that YouTube video?"

"The one with all the spices and garlic and stuff?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"I don't remember if we have all the ingredients we need, but I'm definitely down to try." Roman opens a cabinet and starts taking bottles down from the shelf. "We can also definitely tweak the recipe to make sure that we can do the important parts, we just have to be careful that—"

"Uh, Roman?"

Roman pauses, turning to look over his shoulder, still holding a jar. "Yeah?"

"I, uh, I did this last week, I know what spices we have. I figured this out, you don't have to tell me how to do it."

Again, that expression flickers over his face and he quickly sets down the jar and takes a big step away from the counter. "Right, right, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to—no, I'm not gonna make an excuse. I'm sorry, Patton, I'll listen."

"It's fine, kiddo, I know you didn't mean it." Patton holds out the pot. "Can you fill this with water?"

"Of course!"

They start prepping, Patton providing little instructions and Roman carrying them out. He chops the shallots, the green onions, and sets the sausage to the side to be cooked first. By the time they're ready to start the actual cooking, Patton's got the water boiling for the rice noodles when Roman looks over his shoulder.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Cooking the noodles, that's it."

"But they're—sorry, aren't they supposed to be cooked later?"

"We need them ready to add to the rest of the stuff near the end, kiddo, so they have to be ready."

"But they only take a few minutes." When Patton frowns, just thinking Roman's words over, Roman hastily continues. "Sorry, I'm sure you know that already. Here, I'll, uh, would it be helpful if I got a bowl out to put them in once they're done?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

He catches that expression on Roman's face again, and again it vanishes too quickly for him to ask about, but the rest of the cooking goes off without a hitch. They get a lot of compliments on how good everything tastes and Patton makes sure Roman gets as much of the praise as he does.

"I just listened to you," Roman demurs, "it's really all you."

"It seems not only have you cooked a spectacular dish," Logan observes, "but you've also taught Roman some humility."

Virgil snorts. "'Bout time."

Roman smiles as the rest of them laugh. Patton takes another bite. "This is even better than last time."

"Last time," Roman says quietly, "sorry, can you—when was last time?"

"Sheesh, Princey, how bad is your memory getting? It was just last week?"

"Last week, right."

Patton opens his mouth to ask why Roman still sounds unsure about it, but then Remus throws one of the prawn shells at Janus and he doesn't think about it anymore.

"Easy, now," Roman murmurs, still stroking his hand up and down Virgil's spine, "that's it…you're doing really well, shadow-ling."

Virgil closes his eyes, resting against Roman's solid chest as the last of the panic attack bleeds from his veins. His breathing has yet to even out, but he can start to smell some of Princey's shampoo again, so he takes it as a win. He'll deny it later, but he turns his head to nuzzle into the crook of Roman's neck. Roman doesn't say a single thing, just shifting his grip to hold Virgil more securely in his lap.

"Hey," he says gently when Virgil headbutts his chin, "you here with me, bud?"

"Mmpf."

Roman's chuckle thrums warmly through his head. "I'll take that as a 'sort of.'"

Half of Virgil expects Roman to gently prod him into taking care of himself the rest of the way: getting him water, making him try and eat a little, getting him out of the gross and sweaty clothes into clean ones, even trying to talk him into taking a shower. And he'd do it, putting up his cursory protests, but that would mean that Roman's getting ready to leave and right now, in the last of the panic, he really wants Princey to stay.

He'd deny it if Roman ever asked him, of course, and he'd throttle Janus before he could chirp how much of a lie that was.

But Roman doesn't do that. Instead, he wraps his arms even more gently around Virgil and tucks him half over his shoulder, almost straddling his lap as one of his hands begins to card through his hair. Pressed chest to chest, he has to stifle another hitching gasp as Princey starts humming. It's a low and gentle tune, almost melancholy, and he swears it's some kind of magic as it reaches into the exhausted heap of emotions still swirling in his gut and starts coaxing it out of him.

Yeah, that means he goes back to crying into Princey's shoulder, but it's a softer cry that feels like he might actually feel better when it's over and he has no idea how Roman knows exactly what to do.

He's not gonna question it though.

There's no way the song Princey's humming is as long as he holds him for, so he must be doing it over and over, which just makes Virgil cry more because Roman is choosing to stay with him right now, he's choosing to let Virgil be a puddle of mess on his lap, and he's still running his fingers lightly over Virgil's back and yes, actually, Virgil would like to stay here forever.

When the tears eventually run out and Virgil's just floating there, in a really pleasant haze, he realizes that Roman isn't going to move until Virgil decides he wants to move. Not when he's just shifting so it's easier for Virgil to breathe, and he's still scratching gently along the space between his shoulder blades.

"…Princey?"

"Hm?"

"How'd…how'd you know what to do?"

Roman turns and noses Virgil's hair. "You told me, remember?"

Virgil's tired brain tries to figure out when he gave Roman the step-by-step on how to give him the best, most indulgent comfort ever and draws a blank. "No. I—when'd I do that?"

Roman's hand stutters for a moment, just a moment, but a moment nonetheless. "Maybe I just figured out why it took me so long to realize what you needed, then."

Talking is hard, and so Virgil doesn't do it, but he does think about it.

"It's not that bizarre of an opinion, to be sure, but the way it's phrased speaks more of an incomplete understanding of the topic than they intended."

"No, I see your point. I mean, I know I'm definitely biased and reading sentences like that tends to make me defensive, but I know that, and I'm trying to work on it." Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. "I think it's just hard because when you make such sweeping generalizations that imply that you really don't know what it is you're talking about, it's hard for me to not be super defensive and stuff, does that make sense?"

"It's another area for you to work on—"

"Yeah, I know."

"—but I see your point. If someone doesn't come to the table in good faith, it's difficult to have good faith yourself." Logan sits back, still pondering the opinion piece in front of them. "Though it is clear they lack the same kind of expertise and knowledge that you do."

"I think that's also why it's hard for me—I can list, like, four different examples offhand that would disprove their point, and at least half a dozen more that show the contradictions they've made in the last paragraph alone—like, I'm not alone here, that part contradicts their point about pacing, doesn't it?"

"Not entirely, but yes, it lends an ambiguity to their earlier statement."

"Right." Roman rubs his forehead and flips through his notebook, brow furrowed. "I swear I remember when we talked about academic continuity, I just need to find that page."

Logan frowns. "When we what?"

Roman looks up, brow furrowed. "When we talked about…you know, the importance of making sure your argument—or your point, sorry—carries through your entire piece?"

"I don't recall that conversation."

"You, um—" Roman starts flipping through his notebook, his movements taking on an increasingly frenetic pace— "you brought one of my papers to me that we talked about and you started going through the um, the problems with the layout and we started talking about the importance of—I swear it's in here, I just need to find it."

Logan sits forward, his brow increasingly furrowing as Roman almost tears a page trying to turn it. "Roman, it's—"

"Here." Roman runs his finger down the page, still not meeting Logan's gaze, "we talked about how it's important to have a coherent theme that the reader can follow and how to acknowledge conflicting viewpoints without placing them in a hierarchy."

Logan blinks. That does sound like a conversation that he and Roman would have—one that he believes he'd rather enjoy—but he has no recollection of it. Roman's expression flickers when he says as much, something almost like panic rising in his gaze before it's quickly stifled.

"Well," he says, forcing a smile onto his face, "perhaps I was just reading it back over and imagined what you'd say."

"I quite like this imaginary version of me, then," Logan jokes, "he makes excellent points."

Roman's reaction is not quite a flinch, but his smile squeezes for a moment too long before he nods.

"Would you mind having it again," Logan asks, "for the sake of—?"

"Oh, I couldn't do it justice," Roman says a little too quickly, "but you, um, you can read it? If you want?"

Logan blinks again, surprise coloring his voice. "You'd let me read your notes?"

"…if…if you want to?"

Waiting for Roman to retract that invitation at any moment—he has never seen Roman fiercer than when something touches his notebooks—Logan reaches out and carefully starts to read. The conversation's transcript—or summary—is fascinating. He finds himself almost mourning the fact that this wasn't a conversation he'd actually had. Although some of the comments that he can tell are his are a touch more callous than he'd prefer, he finds himself engrossed in their dialogue until he gets to the latter half.

Roman's handwriting grows sloppy, as it is wont to do when he gets caught up, but there are occasional splotches of discoloration where it looks like something wet.

"Oh, I was drinking something," Roman says offhandedly when Logan asks, "must've spillled."

"I'm surprised you'd drink around your notebooks, you take such care of them."

"Well, you know me."

Before Logan can point out that he does, that's why he's confused, Roman's saying that he's sorry, but he's a little worn out, would Logan mind terribly if they cut this short a bit? Logan shakes his head and watches Roman pick up his notebook, walking out of his room. That moment of panic lingers in his mind and he frowns, wondering why Roman had panicked.

He thinks about that and the drops of liquid that had obscured a line in Roman's handwriting that just said cut.

Janus hears Roman lie over and over again and he's about to break something.

Every time, he has to hold back his visible surprise that one, Roman is lying so readily, and two, that he's getting away with it. The little prince is a better actor than Janus gave him credit for—than any of them gave him credit for, as it's turning out—and the more times it happens, the more Janus thinks that something right under their noses is going terribly, horribly wrong.

The lies aren't big enough for them to be problems on their own, but they stack on top of each other like pebbles until it feels as though Janus blinks one day and there's a wall between Roman and the rest of them that seems insurmountable. And each time another adds to the mass, he thinks about calling it out, but they're never for something so serious as to warrant a full interrogation and the last thing he wants to do is let Roman know he's suspicious of him.

…it sounds much worse than it is.

It's just that if Roman is this good about keeping everyone off his tail right now, with almost no baseline suspicion or cause for concern, he has no desire to see what would happen if Roman was intent on keeping it a secret. And if he is going to succeed in uncovering why Roman feels so fundamentally scared, something Virgil only admitted after Janus had poked and prodded him for far too long, then he needs all of the rest of them on his side too.

His opportunity comes unexpectedly.

They're having a meeting—not a meeting meeting, they're just talking about what they want to do this weekend—and Roman brings up a conversation they'd had about making sure movie nights were comfortable for everyone. Talking about possible triggers beforehand, making sure everyone had equal access to whatever snacks they wanted, even down to making sure everyone behaved considerately while the movie was playing to ensure everyone was having a good time.

A perfectly reasonable thing to bring up, except that conversation never happened.

"What?" Roman looks around. "Are—it did, I swear. We were—we were getting ready to watch the second Venom movie and Remus brought up the body horror and gore that happens and we started talking about—"

He looks around at them all again.

"Do…do none of you remember this?"

"No, kiddo."

"Not really."

"It would be a good conversation to have, but I don't remember this instance of it."

Remus and Janus just shake their heads, Janus keeping his eyes on Roman as he fiddles with his hands.

Don't lie, Roman, please.

"Sorry," Roman says, flashing a bright smile, "must be getting lost in my Imagination again."

Janus narrows his eyes—not technically a lie, but Roman's leaving something out. For a moment, it seems like the conversation will keep flowing and he'll have to wait for a better time to ask Roman what's wrong, but then Patton's speaking up.

"Kiddo?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Roman laughs. "Yeah, of course, Padre, why wouldn't I be?"

Lie. Janus hisses softly and Roman's head jerks around.

"What's the matter," Logan asks, and Roman jerks again at the gentle tone, "will you talk to us, Roman?"

"You've been acting a little strange for a while now," Patton agrees, taking a step closer, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah, like I said," Roman tries, a smile still sort of on his face, "everything's fine, why are you—"

Janus hisses again as Virgil sits up. "Princey, you don't have to be scared, you can—"

"I'm not scared!"

The stronger lie sears across Janus's tongue as Roman winces at the force of his own shout. He pinches the bridge of his nose. No one dares move for several long seconds. Just when Logan looks like he's about to say something, Roman takes a deep breath and lowers his head.

"I'm sorry," he says in a voice that sounds so mournful it makes Janus's chest ache, "I didn't mean to shout or snap at you. You didn't deserve it, I'm sorry. I think I—I've just been spending too much time in the Imagination again."

As soon as he finishes talking, he braces. Like he's expecting to get hit. He hears Remus make a worried noise next to him, starting to reach out.

"Little one," Logan says gently, "we're not angry with you, there's no need for all of that."

Roman's eyes snap open and at the look of pure confusion on his face, a few more of them let out little sounds. Virgil stands up and Roman turns too quickly to face him.

"Hey, Princey," Virgil soothes, his hands up, "I'm not moving, okay? I'm just worried. You're—I can feel you freaking out a little that's all."

"Sweetheart," Patton calls next and Janus winces at how much Roman's neck keeps snapping back and forth, "sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe, it's gonna be okay."

"Back off a bit, we're crowding him."

All of them—except for Remus—take a step back. Remus edges closer and closer to Roman until he can rest a hand on Roman's shoulder. Roman just trembles and Remus cups the side of his face.

"Hey, Roro. Look at me. Just at me, okay?"

"I don't—this wasn't—"

"Breathe," Remus bids softly, and Roman draws a few gasping breaths.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What wasn't?"

"This—I—I don't—"

Remus opens his mouth to say something else when it morphs into a wordless sound of surprise as Roman sinks out abruptly, leaving him scrabbling at the empty air as the rest of them rush forward.

"What happened?"

"Where'd he go?"

"Did we do something to upset him?"

"What's going on?"

Janus doesn't say anything, still staring at the spot where Roman had been. He thinks about all of the lies he's heard, all of the things Roman hasn't said, and how out of all of the things Roman lied about, he'd never lied about being lost in the Imagination.

A conclusion starts to take shape.

+1.

"No wonder you've been so off, your head hasn't been attached to you since you lost it."

"It's a bad idea to spend so much time in the Imagination, Roman, you know that."

"That sounds really irresponsible, Roman. You should know better."

"Quit hogging the Imagination, I need to use it too."

"Oh, of course you were, Roman, did you honestly think we'd expected anything different?"

"You need to be better disciplined, if you can't get the work done you need to before deciding to go off and play."

"Sheesh, Princey, are you really that selfish?"

"If it's getting so bad that you're having delusions, then you need to stop, kiddo."

"Oh, no, Roman's having trouble understanding what's real again."

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

"You're being dramatic, pull yourself together."

"Your crocodile tears aren't convincing anyone, you know."

"Stop crying, you're not a baby."

"Do you think that if you throw a big or pathetic enough tantrum, it'll get us to spoil you? Grow up."

"Stupid."

"Ridiculous."

"Pathetic."

"Annoying."

"Worthless."

"You can't do anything right."

"You're being ridiculous."

"We should never have relied on you."

"I knew you couldn't handle it."

"We're better off without you."

Roman curls up around his pillow, wedging himself deeper into the corner. He jams his face between it and the wall. He tries to keep his hands out of sight. He counts in his head as he breathes, trying to keep it as even as possible. Eventually it will be over. He just has to last until then. Then he can go to his room and cuddle his plushie dragon and be upset there, out of the way, and hurt all by himself. It's safer that way.

He keeps his breathing nice and steady, letting the hurt course through him. The voices keep going, taunting, mocking, yelling, scolding, until they start to just say his name over and over. Roman, Roman, Roman, Roman—

"Roman!"

Something like a frenzied scream comes from behind him and he turns his face deeper into the wall.

"What the fuck are those things?"

"Shit, how long have those been here?"

"Are they—are they supposed to be us?"

"Yeah, fucked up and cruel versions of us, not on my fucking watch!"

Several wet splats come from behind him and then there are hands on his shoulder, running through his hair, and someone that feels like Remus is murmuring in his ear.

"Hey, Roro, it's over. I destroyed them, they're gone, it's the real us. We're here, we're really here, just—just come out of there, okay?"

Oh. It's this one.

He always finds this one the cruelest, where they lure him in with promises of comfort and safety only to turn on him when he reveals what he's actually upset about. No, thank you, he's hurting just fine on his own.

"Roro, please, come out of there, it's okay, it's all gonna be okay."

"Let me try," he hears Logan's voice say, and then the Remus is moving away and there's another hand on his shoulder, "dear, it's alright. You're going to give yourself neck pain if you stay like that, come here…"

Despite his chest howling at him not to, Roman lets Logan coax him out from the corner. Each word of gentle praise just makes it worse—it's going to hurt so much when they start being mean again.

"Princey—" and there's Virgil— "hey, stay with us, okay? Just focus on us, Pat, do you want to—"

"I got it."

Despite himself, a wounded noise leaves Roman's throat as a blanket gets draped over his shoulders. Careful touches smooth it down, more hands helping to secure it in place, and he just curls up so small under it so he doesn't get used to the warmth.

Just get it over with. Just get it over with. Just get it over with.

"Sweetie," he hears, and flinches at the touch of a smooth hand and a scaled hand on his face.

Wait, what?

Janus never takes his gloves off. Not here. Not like this. They can't—they can't be this cruel to him, not today, not when everything already hurts so much.

"Cut," he manages, "cut."

But the hands don't leave and he looks up to see Janus, actual real Janus looking at him and then he smiles softly and calls him sweetie again, and then Logan is appearing over his shoulder and Patton's adjusting the blanket and Virgil and Remus are keeping watch at the corners of the room and—and—and—

"Come here, sweetie," Janus murmurs and he's falling into his chest and there's a kiss being pressed to his temple and it's warm and soft and—

"Shh, Princey," Virgil says as a thread of panic starts to wind its way around his chest, "it's okay, you're okay," and—

"Come this way a little," Logan coaxes as something soft appears under him, "come lie down, you're alright," and—

"There you are," Patton's voice says as something starts to cuddle him, gently yet firmly and it's so surreal and—

"Oh, Roro," Remus mumbles as his brother's arms wrap firmly around him, "this is real, I promise, I promise we're here with you, everything's gonna be okay, okay? We're here, we're real, you're real, everything's gonna be okay now," and—

—and then Roman doesn't think anymore.

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lover-of-mine · 1 month

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https://www.tumblr.com/lover-of-mine/745334896398073856/i-know-i-completely-changed-my-original-spec-on-s7 please I want to hear this! I love hearing your metas and spec lol

Alexa, darling, I love that the original spec was also written on an ask from you, thank you for always supporting my ramblings 💜💜💜💜also @steadfastsaturnsrings, Saturn, darling, I do have more thoughts lol

Okay first, this one needs context, so other metas/speculations whose elements got me to think this one makes sense, I don't think you need to read them for this to make sense, but just in case you want to read something more in-depth about it, I do strongly recommend you read them thought, I think it makes this one more impactful: link to the original spec where all I had to go on was the voices in my head, like legit, we didn't even have a date for season 7 yet, this one is just in case you wanna see the original version of this, buddie is mirroring the couples in Buck, actually and the only situation they are missing is the couple that crashed into the tree aka both of them in danger/hurt at the same time, Buck needs to deal with death/figure out how to live as someone who wants to live, buddie is tied by death.

Okay, so, when I first started thinking about this I was mostly thinking about Buck's relationship with water/breathing and that leading to a breakdown or leading to buddie. Because Buck drowning could trigger him enough for him to have a full-blown breakdown, but a Buck who's already been through the process of realizing he wants to be alive almost dying again might give him an oh moment that would lead him to act on his feelings for Eddie. My hope was also for that to mirror elements of the shooting since I am a firm believer that the shooting was Eddie's oh moment. But I was writing that with no clue about what they would do with the season, so now that we have more information, I need to tweak things a bit.

Buck has a very intricate relationship with breathing which also gives him an intricate relationship with water. The first call we see on the pilot is the 118 responding to a kid who drowned, who Buck is doing cpr on, then we have the baby on the wall who's also not breathing, we have the girl getting strangled by her snake, and we have him saving Athena with water. On a less this is probably just a coincidence note, Buck's first real brush with death is on the date with Abby, where he chokes and Abby needs to perform an emergency tracheotomy on him, the surgery on his leg leads to blood clots in his lung, he gets caught on a tsunami, during the warehouse fire in Buck Begins he gives his mask to the victim and openly states he will hold his breath and the sprinklers also give it the water elements, and after the lightning, the thing that stops working is his lungs. This all led me to the belief that they will drown Buck at some point. Mostly because I wanted to mirror elements of the shooting and one of the elements of the shooting is that it brings up a previous trauma for Eddie. The easiest way to bring up previous trauma for Buck is to drown him, you hit breathing and water elements. Having him crash his car, be driven off the road, drive off a bridge, or something like that, into water is a situation that would be urgent enough that he can't wait for help. At first, I just put Eddie in the car because I wanted Eddie to be forced to save Buck, but now I have a reasoning for Eddie to be in the car.

Let me back up and explain how getting there makes sense though. The promotion of the season has had a lot of talk about vulnerability, and Buck and Eddie leaning on each other, and they need to deal with death as a concept. Eddie needs to stop chasing Shannon, along with dealing with the grief over having to save Buck and Buck needs to deal with his passively suicidal behavior and with the way that following the coma dream, Buck actually does care if he dies, so he needs to get to a point where he acts as someone who wants to be alive and asks for the things he wants. Personally, I think the only way buddie will truly work as a couple is if they get to that point, because a Buck who asks for what he wants is not a Buck who will let Eddie get away with thinking he's always right, and Eddie needs to stop trying to fix what went wrong with Shannon and just do what he actually means.

Eddie welcoming Buck to the world of the living in the locker room gave me hope on that front because Buck finding out he wants to be alive and also calling Eddie on his bullshit while they navigate a place where Buck can face death as something not scary can be good for both of them, especially with the way they keep talking about both Buck and Eddie just “wanting to be happy” because they could walk through the trauma, and Buck talking about death as boring and the focus the show put on Shannon on the past few episodes, showing Eddie and Chris visiting her grave, more detail on hers and Eddie's relationship, Chris’ conflict with her memory, you can have them learning the move forward together. Oliver also saying there will be a chance of things coming up in a not so great light but the friendship persevering can also mean that they will deal with other aspects of their relationship that could create problems in their relationship, like the way they assume they understand each other so they won't actually talk about things that matter and just assume the other will understand what they mean since they are very much in sync a lot of the time, like for instance the way Buck definitely misunderstood what Eddie actually meant with his will or the way Eddie reacted to Natalia and the whole I feel like she sees me. They also need to deal with the way they don't talk to each other about big changes in their lives, Eddie didn't talk to Buck about changing his will or leaving the 118, Buck didn't talk to Eddie about the sperm donation, and they need to.

So let's say season 7 is the buddie utopia of my dreams where they address these base issues, something they need to talk about is how it felt to save each other's lives. But they haven't talked about it yet, and it's been long enough they would need another trigger. But this conversation is the conversation you pretty much can't write without ending it with a love confession of some form, but I'll come back to this.

We need a trigger. I said up there about how they are mirroring the calls in Buck, Actually. There we have a crush injury involving a vehicle with Thomas and Mitchell, we have someone injured more worried about the other's safety who got injured by someone while at work with Ruth and Earl, we have Lola and See Me Norman talking her out of the ledge. Crush injury and focus with hand holding happens both ways, with the truck bombing and the bridge, one of the injured by more worried about the other we also have both ways, granted one is a lot more intense than the other, but during the shooting Eddie asks if Buck is hurt and when they get kidnapped, Buck gets pistol whipped but he spends the whole time more worried about Eddie than himself. And we watched Buck talk Eddie off a metaphorical ledge in dumb luck, if we're lucky, we can get a mirror of that going the other way this season.

Most of my hopes of this particular thing come with the way Buck and Eddie's individual storylines are parallel but slightly misaligned, you have the first love who left and came back without giving them real closure, you have Eddie having too much responsibility being put on him by his parents when Buck is invisible over the fact that he “failed” on the thing his parents' wanted from him, the lightning mirrors the well quite literally, they are in opposite sides of the frame, Buck is in the sky, Eddie is underground, Buck is the middle of a street, Eddie is the middle of nowhere, (here’s a set if you need help visualizing that), among other smaller things, like the way Buck’s first death on the job was someone falling to their death and for Eddie too.

That leaves us with the newlyweds who crashed on their way back from the wedding, aka a situation where both of them get hurt, but one of them gets pinned, one of them gets the worst of it.

So car crash.

I go back and forth as to why they are in the car. I played with the idea of Taylor activating her emergency beacon and them actually going into that situation willingly, but considering everything about the show, you can do pretty much anything, they could witness a crash and then things go to hell, they could be driven off the road, they could fight in the car and lose control, I don't know, but the thing is, utopia buddie who are in a spot where the change from friends to more could work, maybe toeing the line more heavily (I mean, we are mirroring newlyweds lol), getting into a crash while off duty. It's very important that they are off duty because now we're mirroring elements of the shooting.

Why we mirroring the shooting? Well, because the shooting is a banger. I'm kidding lol. There's something inherently romantic about the shooting, Buck wearing Eddie’s blood, the shared looks across the pavement, the focus on hands, Eddie literally bleeding out and asking if Buck’s hurt, Buck escalating from we got you to I got you, from just hang on to I need you to hang on. And there’s also my personal belief that Eddie is aware of his feelings and realized what they meant during the shooting, so I want to put Buck in a situation where he can’t escape what his feelings about Eddie mean, because I think Buck never stopped to truly look at what Eddie is to him. And with where they are, to be put in a situation like that would force them both to confront these feelings, even if they don't feel like saying Eddie has been pining since season 4.

The shooting has quite a few elements that make it as intense as it is: they are not supposed to be there, it’s not their call and the 136 is the house responsible, it brings up a previous trauma for both of them, Eddie gets shot, bringing up things from his days in the army and Buck is forced to roll under the truck after being crushed by one, Buck does the saving alone because there’s no one else they trust around, it happens by chance because Eddie gets targeted just because, they are also done with what they went to do by the time Eddie gets shot. All of these can be achieved in many ways, the only thing I’m sure of is that they need to be in the car together and they need to be off-duty because if they are not off-duty you take away from the urgency of the situation, having tools and immediate rescue available waters the situation down. I don’t know why but I keep going back to them driving off a cliff into water, sometimes I shift to a bridge, but they used that with Judd and Grace in Lone Star so I don’t know if we would get a repeat, but basically I see them stopping to help someone, getting back to the car, and maybe the side of the road gives under them, or there’s another crash, that now is into them throwing them over, or they get driven off the road. There’s also the chance of them just losing control of car, a tire pops, it's raining, something runs across the road, and they get underwater.

Why is them being underwater important? If they are just hanging on the side of the cliff, they can wait for help. Also, we are bringing up past trauma for both of them, if you put them in a car filling with water, you hit the water/breathing elements for Buck, but you also hit well elements for Eddie, and Shannon was also hit by a car. So their car gets thrown into water, going back to the Buck, Actually comparison, the crash, one of them gets pinned. The one who’s pinned needs to be Buck. Why? Eddie is the widower, Buck is the savior. Eddie has to live with the fact that he didn’t actually save the people he thought he did, and he has to live with the fact he was helpless watching Shannon die, and Buck exists to do the saving. So we are letting Buck be saved and Eddie know he actually did save him. It could be cathartic for both of them.

And I want Eddie performing desperate CPR. Sue me. Can you imagine everything Ryan can give us there? Mouth to mouth, “you’re not doing this to me again”, being all wet and you can’t tell if the water on his face is from the water or his tears, begging Buck to wake up, Buck finally coughing wake and dropping back against Eddie, Eddie breathing as heavily as Buck as he hubs his back and encourages him to breathe while refusing to let go of him. If we’re lucky Eddie hiding his face in Buck’s hair or something like that. It could be so good. Because you can also have Buck looking at Eddie like he’s seeing him for the first time in a very clear revelation moment. You can have them looking at each other in a clear revelation moment. It could be THE oh moment.

And then they can talk. I said I would come back to this. Them having a conversation about saving each other, forces them to talk about what they mean to each other. You literally can’t have them talk about what it was like to save the other without forcing them to talk about how they love each other, and if they do the groundwork I mentioned, they can have one HELL of a getting-together scene. Imagine one them yelling “because I don’t want to live without you!” and the way it would be literally I don’t wanna be alive without you and I don’t want to continue living my life without you. And like, having Buck say something like this with the way he reacted to Thomas and Mitchell dying together and how he focused on them dying together, not the life they had, and the way Buck interpreted Eddie’s will as Eddie asking him to be okay with Eddie dying, Eddie asking him to outlive him, and have him look Eddie in the eye “I don’t ever want to do this without you” come oooooooooon, it would be such a beautiful conclusion to the buildup we have right now.

But yeah, this is the madness. The ultimate wishful thinking. I could be so good.

Anyway, if you read this I love you 💜

#this is long lol #imagine not being delusional #couldn't be me lol #911 #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 speculation #buddie thoughts #buddie #i really need a tag for asks #alexa 💜#🪐#drown Buck 2024

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