#this place is so bleak n sad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr Inc. has $15.1M in annual revenue.

#this place is so bleak n sad

actuallysaiyan · 4 days

Text

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited. a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.

TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug

MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3

Masterlist

For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.

Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.

Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.

So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.

Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.

You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.

“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.

He nods, “Yeah. You?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”

Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.

“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”

Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.

“I’d love that.”

Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”

Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.

Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.

When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.

Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.

“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”

Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”

You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.

“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.

“Not ready. You go first.”

You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.

“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”

Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”

“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”

This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”

You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”

Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.

“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”

You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”

Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”

You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.

“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza.

Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.

“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”

You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”

Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”

Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”

“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”

Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.

“My best friend died at seventeen.”

You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.

“W-what?” you manage to spit out.

Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”

You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.

“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”

Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.

“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”

You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.

“We can stop the game now,” you offer.

Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”

After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.

Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”

You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”

He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.

“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.

You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”

Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.

He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.

His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.

“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.

“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”

He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”

This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.

Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.

“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”

Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.

Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.

“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”

Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.

“I want you so badly,” he whispers.

“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”

Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.

He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.

“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”

You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.

“Shit! W-wait, I—”

He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.

You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.

“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”

He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now.

“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”

Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”

You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”

You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.

You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.

He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.

“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”

Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.

234 notes · View notes

changbunnies · 5 months

Text

If You Call Me, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?

♡ Word Count: 43.4k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past- that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written), past / referenced parental death (not described), self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here (and includes an update on where i've been) and if you're interested, you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t. And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity. As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable. And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life. You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events. You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature. You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve- Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking. The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why? Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy? You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time. You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable, before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days, you’d be lucky and were able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked. Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even- an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness. There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend. You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone.

You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had. All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control- your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way. You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however- because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party- not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved. Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you, would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them. And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard- you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience.

And it was fun, for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together.

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing- the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore- you wouldn’t let him.

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet- not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you.

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in before you could even hope to act rationally as you dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as you saw him, in what likely appeared to be a drunk girl’s desperate dash for the bathroom to those settled around the steps. It was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through.

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right? It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. But you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together.

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue.

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?”

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you. “Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel.

Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn.

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil. Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case.

But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong. You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place. So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell.

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless.

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize takes the both of you by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” You hear the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange- he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him. He’s… intimidated? “Oh come on, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief.

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now. “Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit. Or anyone’s for that matter.”

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.”

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands.

And that’s what Jae wants- he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be. You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it.

You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged. He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass. A sigh of relief leaves you once Jae is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had. “Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what is evidently his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple.

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury- whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jae is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight.

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now. He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic- your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain. And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back.

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything- just to make sure Jae will leave you alone. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and- uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion- it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction.

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood.

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration- nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake.

You decide to sit at his desk, deciding that is the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be- dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep.

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.”

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do- you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do.

“Oh, no, I-” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me- got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it- you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with. There was either a time you considered it, when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying.

“I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.” “Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I.. didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel?

Like kindred spirits- two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets.

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he- well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape- like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it.

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good grades I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have- you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now.

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today- he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters.

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are- someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen. “Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you-” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs.

“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together.

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.”

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again.

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers.

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon.

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines. You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap.

It always occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again. You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came.

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you?

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on. A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place.

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you.

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because he was nice to you? That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo and only listened to you to be polite.

God, you were spiraling- one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life again, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know- know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why?

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you. Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own of course, you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way, but now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it.

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan- what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness?

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that. And that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread. Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be.

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose- lately, he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay.

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him, that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though.

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing.

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking. The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here?

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended.

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here? Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay.

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him.

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him.

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you- shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh. “It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae- Chan. He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot to steady himself. “Wha- Who the fuck?”

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks. “You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’

Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth. “You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again, and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks- at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly.

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley. But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone- your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect.

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain. And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made, hated him most of all.

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves- the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry. Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? Why don’t I buy you a new coffee?” “Huh? Oh- you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond, not yet meeting his gaze.

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that- a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly. You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his name and number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before. You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation you come across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping someone was completely different. Was he really that selfless?

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask after a moment, fully expecting a rejection. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious. Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of kindness is enough to make you emotional.

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do- he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before. You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it.

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.” “Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his. You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact.

You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung, and… Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and-

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand- it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?” “Oh- yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity. “How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise.

The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it. “I uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting. “Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house again when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!”

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this. Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands.

“You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt. “N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had- and you like that. Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will.

Without even thinking about it, he ran- he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that. What Chan felt instead was.. Disgust. The thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull- and Chan would happily be the one to do that.

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized. The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, and instead offered your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick and angry. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it. Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better.

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive.

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts while he was in the shower- most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours.

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N!

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.” “Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin.

“What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh. “Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking. “Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.”

He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself. Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.”

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight.

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay?

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin.

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year. And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered.

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through. At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough.

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble. Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him.

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to.

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him.

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with, a homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is.

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness- that even though you miss or long for that period of time in your life, you accept that you cannot return to it, and look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what you had. You miss the joy you felt in those simpler times, the days where you were taken care of and pampered by your parents, where every meal was provided for you and you spent all of your free time worry free, watching your favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end.

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do? Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief.

And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried. He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling.

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what-ifs and should-bes of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier- like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either- he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there. Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding you that the hole in your heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels.

Fuck it.

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14am- not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders? No- better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment.

The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill- he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries. He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in.

His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them- very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it. He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it- the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled.

Minho comforted him, of course- he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt- just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness. And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now- not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and still being built upon.

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again, he wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song or meal is. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to.

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets? He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight.

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently.

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards.

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you? He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer. There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history- why did that make him feel so warm inside?

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you. It was kind of like thinking aloud- like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind.

Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you. You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see.

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after. But then there came the next dilemma- getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him.

“You could stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that-” “N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you clear your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean- I’ll stay.”

Chan nods, standing up to go up to his room with you; you don’t need to be led there of course, you already know where it is, but Chan needs to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night. A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did.

“I’ll see you in the morning, uhm- let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he says with a slight smile before he departs, doing his best to close the door behind him despite how full his hands were. Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30am. Well, if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he’d rather lose it thinking about the fact that you’re upstairs in his bed right now than anything else.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in. Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter!

You’re going insane, you think- you can’t take it. You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and- PLEASE BRAIN STOP.

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of.. Cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it.

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him?

And you think about the first time you saw him smile- really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you. You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, and every thing you learned about him, every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest. He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan- one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words.

You learned a lot about them that day too- about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.) Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste.

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent.

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life. You loved how anytime someone praised him or had something positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them.

You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was. And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to- a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child.

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough.

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way.

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence- Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area. Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit.

He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body. “It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforts you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?”

You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it. The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too.

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that- he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that.

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough for your growing crush on him to make your heart beat out of control.

Was he still awake? Chan and the others told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check? There was certainly no harm in it- if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, and try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go.

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom. It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space.

He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night. He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?”

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that. “Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.”

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms. “Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.”

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown. “...What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his.

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan- it was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know- should I go put him back?”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.” “I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers, who still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same question he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about. “Do you think about them a lot?”

Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting; he’s used to being asked what happened, how he feels, if there’s anything he needs.. He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a hesitant, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation.

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed. Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so.

“I do,” he answers after a moment, surprising himself with how easily he was able to do so. It was a simple question, sure, but not for Chan- nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels.. Comfortable. And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it.

He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up. You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you- an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him.

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself. He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times. But you- you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are.

The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness. No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes- even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls. He doesn’t want that with you- if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe?

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat. Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy.

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect and takes him entirely by surprise. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him. He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay.

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go. “Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms.

You stay like that for a long time- long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep. Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up.

He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go. He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized. The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it.

Did he deserve it? He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior.

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together. Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.”

It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night; your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured.

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. His typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do. Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.)

Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even. He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable- he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him.

“Can you.. Send it to me? I- I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took.

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in, “You think she’d want it too?” “Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.)

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good.

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer and allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies. It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs.

You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back. You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed, sitting on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular.

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you.

In reality, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you- quite the contrary, actually. He was good- not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration.

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in. It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was.

And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know? Sure, that impression helped sometimes, like with Jae who obviously wanted nothing to do with him, but he was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that?

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was- someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way.

Sometimes you would wonder, though- is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy. You did your best to ensure he was, that you always returned whatever favor he gave you, by being a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough.

You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did. He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him.

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him. You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to, that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, and that you would always listen and be there for him.

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something. “Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were.

You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next.

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were. So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong.

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel. But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.”

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface. And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right.

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one, or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do, he was sure. But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked?

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared. “I- No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you.

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort. “I just.. You’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission.

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy.

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him. You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket.

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but.. But I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.” You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple.

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day? There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that, the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all.

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream.

That’s what you were for him- hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper. All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life.

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between the groups; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan and his group of stupid ass friends. And anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons.

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit? Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional” fixer of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had. Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you.

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were. No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers.

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Whether you simply had no reason to, you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate; whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it.

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it. You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name.

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time- studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you?

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you. To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about shit like this.

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you- it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are.

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him. In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more was the words his friend spoke.

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain. So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do; he treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him.

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that? He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day.

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all.

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get.

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does.

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised.

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with.

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it.

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that, but if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you.

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him.

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries. It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun.

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling has he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head. You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing.

You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams. What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with.

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.” You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick his ass if Jae did anything to you tonight, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to.

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, fully expecting a reaction like that.

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on. Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone, especially not Chan.

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that? “He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?”

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with some extra help and a hell of a lot of overtime, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Come on, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you.

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better? You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.”

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!”

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you.

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? What would it mean for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. “If I did anything to you, Chan and his friends would find out about it, so I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.”

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys and they’d go after him with no hesitation. But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know.

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head.

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently.

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you.

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow. “What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight.

“Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree. You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan. “What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment.

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands. He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself.

He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor. That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right?

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw.

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him. You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill.

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.” “Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand.

Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything. “There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined.

Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide. Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created.

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you. You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head.

“Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him. He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily? He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that.

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can. “Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through on the other end, but can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it. He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given.

“I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?” “Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let them know what's up so don’t worry about it, just take care of Y/N.” “Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you.

“Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off. “Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is.

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times. You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to- do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out.

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls off the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do.

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his head over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like? He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him.

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot.

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good. You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax.

He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him. Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you.

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this. You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him.

He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable. You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you.

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours. It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore.

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again.

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now.

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I-" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it.

"But I-" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm. It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again.

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response. You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process.

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context. And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself.

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be.

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words. When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay.

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation. His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other. But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor.

And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well. He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others he lived with, barring Chan, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you.

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well. Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch.

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends.

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before.

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all. And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt.

But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him. You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count.

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most. He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand.

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault. “It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother.

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing? Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs.

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything. Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind, so it was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating. “What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point.

Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing. Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?”

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?” Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing. “Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out.

“What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone. “She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst. He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back.

Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment at Chan’s sudden outburst. He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why Chan wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out?

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying. You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with animosity.

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful.. She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room. “You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed.

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try. And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson.

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life. At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you.

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space and would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart. You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore.

You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them. Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known. Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless.

If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state. If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe. They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.)

Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place. But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with. And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest.

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan. Before, you used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades.

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems. Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.)

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces. You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him.

It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening. The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel.

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there (and you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.) Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out.

Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams. And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right?

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there.

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of?

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise. He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant.

You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you. If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors.

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing. You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that.

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you.

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily. Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes.

Despite all he told himself though, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look. “So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.”

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you. “Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch.

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan was definitely one of those wrong places. “It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside.

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.” “Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront.

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day. He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to.

He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself? How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind. Not to mention that the only ones who knew what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you.

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy? Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families. And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize, he would have absolutely nothing.

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone. Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore.

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it; and then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had.

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has, so he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed. It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy.

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue. Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you maybe even more than you felt you needed him.

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, that the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had.

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you. Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated?

He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket. He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without a follow up explanation spreads worry through him. And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help.

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable. He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you.

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds. The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there.

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in. “Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth.

Chan wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance. Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you.

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you. You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away.

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it. All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different.

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should. Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been.

And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here. You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant. You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered. So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was.

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on. Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan.

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile. You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given.

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; You see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact. He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe. "You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit.

"Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his. The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs.

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand. “I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, and like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened.

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know- you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side. He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shift and handing it carefully to you.

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed. You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place.

He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done. “Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes.

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I.. I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology. He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him.

"It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you. "It's not okay, I- I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I-'' You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?"

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment. "Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you.

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was, and you want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you could. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him.. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you.

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high, or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns?

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad. Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was- I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..”

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes doesn’t do him any favors. The way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him. It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him, even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try.

He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless. He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again.

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me. When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but didn’t have either the strength or willpower to get their own hands dirty, or couldn’t risk their public image by being associated with a criminal act, so they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge.

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected, what you hoped to hear- that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs, a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him.

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done. It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, but you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles that weighed him down, both physically and mentally.

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before- it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry. No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow.

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry- they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy. To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does.

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. You’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most. “I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you.

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer. “There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself.

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically? “You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous. God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him.

“You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close. You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for.

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again.

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again.

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one- a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel. You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort.

“Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed. “Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed.

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you. “I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack. “Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night.

You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it. He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt.

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold. “Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously.

“Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm. “I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice- he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake.

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close. “I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.”

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all. Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon- he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts! And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it?

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you. He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say.

He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much. You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words.

But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you- all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else. Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party- he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone.

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized. He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself, and that made him perfect to you.

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past. He made substantially less money for one, but a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made now was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own.

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him- what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar, one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken and not built on solid enough ground.

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just.. When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely.

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest.

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special.

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel.

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process.

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his 6 month anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully. Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not.

That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation. He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy! Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. You’re guessing he usually slept that way but kept a shirt on when you were spending the night, but now that you were a couple, he didn’t have to.

He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast. And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck- it was over for you.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you- you wanted him.

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan. But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush, that while certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan.

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you. When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room.

“Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention. “Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear. “W-What? I-I-, well-” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” You mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection.

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him? “O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately.

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers. “Yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.” “I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile.

Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness- he needs to see you. You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll.. I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know. He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you. The kiss is slow- much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s.. sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist.

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay, but to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs.

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over. You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip- he loves it all.

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips. Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already; you’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin.

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel- you’re forever his angel. Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck. Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot.

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin. His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up.

You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor. You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are- the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul.

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment.

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest.

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention. The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal.

If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good. He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body. You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big.

You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off. It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing.

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet.

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him- God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven.

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans. Chan picks up the pace exponentially, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit.

He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer. Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He diverts all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue.

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release. You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss.

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state. “Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now.

“I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words. “Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours.

He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie-” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry.

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning. “Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft.

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip- how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once?

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you.

But first, he needs to prep you well- so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make.

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans. You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips.

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably. Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest- in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you.

He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god-” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you. You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?” “Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words.

He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed. Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face.

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt. “Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers.

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation.

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise. He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him.

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down even if you wanted to.

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop.

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts. The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together.

Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and trying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you. You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment.

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes.

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace. Your legs are a bit wobbly after your endeavors so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower, takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite it. He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have.

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for.

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying. And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of- a life he promises to always share with you.

#skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #literally posting this after 4am fdsgsdfg GOOD NIGHT #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

374 notes · View notes

leaentries · 9 months

Text

Bad day

luke hughes x chubby!reader

a/n- hey y’all! so guess who’s not dead 😋 i’m so so sorry i’ve been so inactive this past month! i’ve been dealing with college starting back up and my new job. but now that i’m back to semi-normal schedule, im hoping to start posting more! so please don’t be afraid to send in any thoughts or requests you may have! also, im so sorry if this is shit, i didn’t really know where i was going when i started writing. i just wanted to get something out for y’all to read😭

p.s- gif is not mine, credits to the owner!!

some days truly never seemed to end.

even though it was only a wednesday, the bleakness of the sky and air ruined every seemingly good thing coming y/n’s way. her day started off great. waking up next to her boyfriend who gave her plenty of good morning sleepy kisses and “i love you’s.” luke even went the extra mile and warmed up her morning shower, paired with a fresh towel straight out of the dryer.

as she stepped into the shower, she felt confident that she was going to have a fantastic day. her classes were easy on wednesday and only lasted till early afternoon. although she knew that luke would be gone for practice by the time she returned home, she was excited to lounge around and be lazy for the day.

only, her day took a turn for the worst.

walking to her first class of the day, the coffee she held in her hand, that luke put so much effort into, somehow managed to slip from her grasp. the cup went tumbling into the pavement, leaving ugly light brown splotches in its wake. frustrated, she picked up the soaked cardboard.

y/n took a deep breath and quickly disposed of the cup, before continuing her journey to class. even though she felt bad for wasting the coffee, she was still set on having a great day. her class went by decently fast, ending when the professor decided to go on a tangent about his recent disk golf tournament.

on wednesdays she only had two classes, her next one being the longest. sitting down for her next lecture, she noticed the thigh portion of her jeans had begun to rip. y/n couldn’t help the feeling of dread that filled her body. those were her favorite jeans and the store in which she bought them, had discontinued this style.

sighing, she placed her head down on her arms. she decided to close her eyes, since she got to class early anyways. what seemed to be a few seconds, quickly turned into her feeling a jab to her side. she lifted her head, eyes squinting due to the bright lights. she looked over to her desk partner. julie looked back with concerned eyes.

“dude, are you okay?”

puzzled, y/n replied, “yeah….why?”

“you just slept through the entire lecture. which, by the way, prof decided to assign some stupid essay on. he said it’s gonna be due friday.”

with wide eyes, y/n stared at the clock on the wall.

i slept through the whole thing?

hitting her like a train, she turned back to julie.

“wait wait wait. an essay? shit, i don’t even know what he talked about today.”

worry gripped her like a vice. how the hell was she ever gonna get an essay done about a lecture she didn’t even listen to? there goes her plan on being lazy for the rest of the day.

“don’t worry, i got you girl. i made sure to take some major notes for you.” julie handed y/n the purple notebook, “just make sure to bring it to class on friday.” with that, julie gathered her things and left the classroom.

still stuck on the fact that she slept through the entire lecture, y/n slowly began to pack up and make her way home. rushing to her car, she made the drive as fast as possible.

not to her surprise, she was greeted with an empty apartment. she would normally be a little sad at this, but she took it with grace. the quiet will give her time to go over julie’s notes and start her essay.

❥.

by the time luke found his way through the door, it was easily past six.

“angel?” luke called into the open apartment. “y/n?” he called again. when he still received no response he walked to their shared bedroom, only to find her hunched over a desk with headphones in her ears.

he walked up to stand behind her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and a kiss to the top of her head. her body jumped slightly, startled at the sudden touch.

“what the fuck, lukey?” she turned to him.

“awww, im sorry baby.” luke responded, chuckling slightly.

though his smile began to fall from his face when he saw the deep line of worry and distress around her eyebrows. luke felt his own furrow.

“what’s wrong, angel?” luke felt his own worry begin to set in. he could have sworn she was in a great mood this morning, recalling when she told him her plans for the day.

frustrated tears began to fill her eyes, “today has just utterly been shit. first, i spilt the coffee you spent so much time making me. then, i fell asleep durning my lecture and missed the entire thing. and to top it all off, my professor decided to assign an essay on said lecture. so now i’m having to bullshit this assignment, which means i’ll probably get a horrible grade.”

by the end of her rant, hot tears found their way from her eyes and down her cheeks. luke’s hands quickly reached to wipe them away.

“don’t cry, pretty girl. it’s okay.” luke said in a hushed voice. he swiveled the chair around, crouching to look up at her down casted face. he placed his hands on her plushy thighs, not failing to appreciate the warmth they radiated under his palms.

“hey, hey. look at me, y/n” at the sound of her name, she tilted her head up slightly, meeting his concerned filled eyes.

“you did nothing wrong. that coffee took me all of about 30 seconds to make and i can help you with your essay. i promise you, you are doing great, baby. you’ll do fine on this essay and it sounds to me like you needed the sleep anyways.” his hand reached to cradle her damp, round cheek.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why i’m upset. it’s not like anything horrible happened. it-it’s just today was supposed to be so good. a-and,” a small sob cut through the air. taking a deep breath she continued, “and i’ve been doing this essay for the past 4 hours. i feel like i’m getting no where.”

luke’s heart hurt at the sight of his girlfriend so drained. it was a complete 180 from the cheerful attitude she had that morning. he slowly stood up, reaching over to close her laptop. she opened her mouth in protest, but was quickly cut off. “before you try and stop me, you need a break, sweetheart. you’ve made plenty of progress on your essay for today. come lay down with me. we can call in some take out and watch a movie.”

luke’s eyes gazed pleadingly into her own.

“but what if i can’t get it finished by tomorrow? it’s due at the beginning of class friday.” luke was fast to ease her worry, “i promise i will help you finish it tomorrow. i don’t have practice, so we can spend the whole day making this essay a+ material. now, go change and meet me in the living room.”

with a smile and another kiss to her head, luke walked out of the bedroom. attempting to brush off the last thoughts of her essay, y/n got up and walked to the closet. she grabbed a pair of sweats and one of luke’s big sweatshirts. putting it on reminded her of how thoughtful he is, always making sure to get them a size bigger so they’ll be extra oversized.

she smiled as the scent of his cologne filled her nose.

now completely changed, she walked out, only to be met with what seemed to be every blanket in the house set up on the couch. next to it laid plenty of her favorite snacks, along with her favorite drinks. with wide eyes, she turned to meet luke’s nervous form.

“w-what’s all this?” she gestured toward the couch. luke walked up to her, placing his hands on her full hips.

“i just wanted to do something for you, make your day a bit better. do you like it?” luke’s eyes were hopeful.

“of course, i love it.” she looked up at luke’s face, “thank you. for everything.” luke flashed his beaming grin.

“anything for you, angel,” he whispered. luke leaned down to press his lips into her soft ones. his hands pulled her hips to meet his, deepening the kiss. y/n found her own hands finding home in the curls on the nape of his neck. she gripped his hair, slightly pulling at the intensity. luke’s light groans filled the apartment.

forcing themselves apart, y/n placed her hands on luke’s shoulders as he tried to chase her lips. a whine escaped his throat, “whyyy? i want to kiss you.” a laugh bubbled out of her mouth, bringing a smile to luke’s face.

“as much as i would love to keep kissing you, i want to go lay down. and that movie isn’t going to watch itself.” with this, luke took liberty of going to lay across the couch first, opening his arms to welcome y/n into them. she didn’t hesitate to find comfort in his arms, laying her head on his chest.

luke grabbed one of the many blankets, covering them both. he placed his chin on the top of her head, grabbing the remote lying next to him.

“alright angel, what do you want to watch?”

#luke hughes x chubby!reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes headcanons #nhl x reader #umich hockey x chubby!reader #umich hockey x reader #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes imagine #leawrites🍀

263 notes · View notes

retrobutterflies · 2 years

Text

The Eddie Special | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: When the world suddenly feels like it's crushing you under its weight, one person always manages to make you feel whole again. And it's getting increasingly harder not to admit your true feelings for him.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Themes of sadness and anxiety, Major Fluff, Friends to Lovers

A/N: It's okay to feel sad or lonely or anxious for no reason. It's the silly price we pay for being humans. But you'll be okay.

It had been the most uneventful and mundane day, with little to note and even less to remember and yet for some reason as you pushed out of the swinging double doors of school, flat of your shoes scuffing down concrete steps, you felt like you could barely breathe. It was like you and Atlas had switched places and all of a sudden the weight of the word was on your shoulders and your shoulders alone. The waves of anxiety that had started shallow at the start of the day had swelled and were building like a tsunami of raw emotion, ready to swallow you whole if you gave in.

You weren't sure when you had bit your lip but you could taste the metallic iron on your tongue. And the chilled air nipped harshly at your cheeks and your heart was hammering in your chest and you could feel beyond the horizon of anxiety the blanket of sadness waiting to wrap around you until everything was dark and bleak and empty.

You stumbled over a stray rock and noticed one of your laces was undone but you didn't have the energy to bend down and tie it so you kept walking, tripping a few steps later and feeling the burning shame of embarrassment mix in with the dread and unease like oil and water sploshing around in your stomach.

You wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into your bed, and fall asleep if only to escape the overwhelming emotions for a few hours. And maybe when you woke up they would be pulling back like it was low tide again and you'd be able to breathe. Because these emotions had no cause. Sometimes they just happened and they curled around your neck and layered over your eyes until you felt nothing other than hopelessness like a cruel and wicked game with you as the unwilling pawn.

You crossed into the parking lot with heavy eyes sweeping over car hoods and bobbing heads until they settled on a familiar untamed mane. Eddie Munson was leaning against the side of his truck staring down at Dustin Henderson whose mouth was forming words quicker than you could've attempted to decipher. And Eddie was rolling his eyes and saying something back, arms crossed and head quirked.

"You're missing the entire point! It's not the fact that they fought the Soul Reaper, it's the fact that they chose that specific route which would put them in his path which was foreshadowed in the first book–" Dustin's voice was adamant and they way he argued had you believing his point without even knowing the context for the conversation.

"Does luck not exist in your world, Henderson? Happenstance? Coincidence perhaps? Or the fact that it was the only route that didn't involve a known threat?" Eddie's voice was a mixture of annoyance and barely concealed amusement.

"It's never a coincidence in a fantasy trilogy where even the color of their cloaks has meaning, Eddie!"

Eddie was first to notice your presence, turning to face you with his eyes lighting up.

"Y/N agrees with me, don't you?" he said, shifting his body so his back was resting against the frigid surface of his van so he could face you. Dustin rolled his eyes and let out a scoff.

"She does not–" Dustin sounded frustrated, seemingly ignoring the muffled voice coming from what you presumed was his walkie-talkie buried somewhere in the depths of his bag.

"Yes she does. She always does," Eddie shot back, turning to cast him a look.

"She doesn't even know what we're talking about–"

"Yeah, well, she knows I'm right–"

"She doesn't–Oh my god," Dustin huffed, dropping his backpack to the ground, ripping open the zipper and viciously digging through it to find his walkie-talkie. The voice coming from it was louder and more clear as he plucked it from his bag and wrestled with the antenna.

"What, Mike?" he hissed into the receiver.

"I've been calling you for like the past ten minutes! Where are you Dustin–" Mike's heavily irritated voice crumbled through the static and Dustin squeezed his eyes shut in aggravation.

"I'm coming! Can you tell Steve to look up the definition of patience," Dustin struggled to zip his bag back up, tucking the walkie-talkie in between his neck and shoulder before swinging the bag over his back.

"Steve says to run or he's leaving you," Mike quipped back and faintly you could hear Steve's voice grumbling something about Henderson and idiot and manners.

"Sorry, I gotta go. I'll see you Monday," he said to Eddie, a rueful grimace on his face. He turned to you, face brightening into a smile, eyes squinted in childlike glee.

"Y/N, it's nice to see you. You look lovely," he said and you were barely able to give him a parting smile before he was darting across the parking lot in the direction of Steve's car, hissing something else into his walkie as he ran.

Eddie let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he watched the freshman nearly barrel into a disgruntled couple before turning his attention back to you.

"Hey, sunshine."

Two simple words and you felt like you were going to burst. His regular term of endearment for you felt distinctly out of place on a day where you felt like all the storm clouds in the world were nestling in your brain. You took a shaky breath, chanced a look up into his eyes and felt your throat tighten.

He slowly pushed himself off the van, arms falling to his sides as he took in your appearance. Shoulders slumped, hair messed up from fidgeting with it it one too many times, lower lip bitten raw and swollen. But your eyes clued him in to your inner turmoil. He felt his own mood plummeting as he studied you and your rounded doe eyes lacking their usual sparkle.

"What happened?" he asked, taking a step closer, feeling his hand flex as if he wanted to reach out and touch you. And a hot rush of anger splashed his cheeks directed at whoever or whatever was causing your chin to wobble and his heart to clench.

You shook your head, biting down on your sore lip as you fought back the embarrassing stinging of tears in your eyes because nothing had happened. There was nothing remotely different from yesterday where you were laughing so hard your stomach ached from one of Eddie's anecdotes to today where you felt like the winds had been viciously ripped from your sails.

"Nothing," you managed to squeeze out, feeling salty tears collect in your lashes, one or two spilling out, chasing each other down your cheeks, "Just, sad, I don't know, I feel–"

You couldn't finish, feeling your throat tighten more as the tsunami crept closer and closer. And the panic that had been lurking under your skin since the moment you had woken up started clawing its way up your neck until your breaths started coming out shaky and uneven.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, shame suddenly burning hot in your stomach as more tears fell and soon you were crying, the emotions you had been fighting all day winning the battle.

He stepped closer until his cologne was invading your senses and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. Hesitantly his hand reached out to your back, scratching lightly at your shoulder blade, ducking his head down to catch your eyes that were focused on the ground because looking at him made your embarrassment worse.

"Hey, woah," he said, his other hand reaching up to capture your chin to tilt it upwards so he could see your face, feeling his heart clench at the sight of your tears, "why are you apologizing?"

"Because nothing happened and I'm crying for no reason and I'm being stupid–" a few choppy breaths followed by a hiccup cut you off and Eddie was grimacing at you like you were causing him physical pain.

He knew you've had these moments before where the world felt suffocating with seemingly no explanation. He's had them too where he's locked himself in his room and buried himself in his comforter, no energy to even listen to music. But you weren't being stupid. The price of having good moments was that sometimes bad moments lurked between. And he'd be damned if he let you feel the gnawing sense of hopelessness that he knew well.

"Sunshine," he felt his own breath get stolen for a moment, both hands moving to rest on your cheeks, cradling your face as he angled it higher until you could do nothing but meet his eyes.

"You're not being stupid," he chided, stuck between poking fun at you to lighten your mood or soften his tone to quell your anxieties.

His eyes followed the glinting tears as they created rivers down your cheeks, soaking underneath his fingers that rested on the plush of your cheeks. He slowly swiped his thumbs under your eyes, collecting the moisture that made your eyes sparkle prettily up at him. And he swiped at the flecks of mascara that mimicked freckles, fingertips softly grazing so his callouses didn't hurt you.

"I'm crying," you sniffled, voice pinched and watery. He unconsciously mirrored your slight pout, brown eyes rounding as he felt his heart squeeze painfully.

"Yeah and I can't believe you still look cute while doing it," he replied, his thumbs pushing slightly into the fat of your cheeks as if he was goading a smile to your face.

And you managed a small one at his sweet words but a familiar pain stabbed into your chest. A pain that was long simmering and ever-present at the thought of his affection lacking the same weight as yours. His stemming from years of close-knit friendship and yours from your stupid unrequited feelings. And with the way he was cradling your face and looking at you like you were physically breaking his heart for just being sad, you weren't sure how much longer you could go without telling him you were disgustingly in love with him.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the image of him starting to become a dagger in your heart and he was wincing at you, feeling his own stomach coil in dread and anxiety at your anguish. He wanted to lean in, rest his forehead against yours and steal the war raging in your head so he could deal with it for you.

"Let me take you home, yeah?" his voice was quieter, a low rumble painting his words. You blinked your eyes open at him, tears obscuring your vision so you could only see a watercolor outline of his silhouette. But you were nodding and he was smoothing your hair back from your face, hands trailing down until they found your back and directing you to the passenger seat of his van.

The ride was quiet. Eddie had fumbled with the collection of cassettes stashed in the inner console, looking for one he knew was your favorite. And he had put it in, volume low but humming to help distract you from your thoughts as he drove. His eyes found yours at varying moments, brows tugging closer as he watched you gaze out of the window to the amalgamation of orange and red, eyes faraway, looking at something he couldn't see.

Nothing in his life caused him as much desperation as you did when you were upset. When it was something tangible like someone making a rude comment or a shitty grade on a test he could deal with it head on like threaten the kid who thought his snide remark was funny or scrounge up enough money to pay someone to give you a few tutoring sessions promising you that it was free. But when it was your own mind who was making you upset, he felt defenseless and he felt desperate.

When his van had rumbled to a stop in front of your house, driveway empty and lights off, he turned to see you frowning at it. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it a second after, fearing he had no words that would make you feel better.

"Eddie?" your quiet voice sounded over the soft music that he was already reaching to shut off. He turned to you and waited until you were ready to speak. You were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth again and he wanted to reach over and swipe it free and soothe the raw skin with his thumb.

"Can you come in?" He repressed the sudden urge to laugh. He wanted nothing more than to follow you inside. The thought of leaving you alone when your teary eyes made him feel sick to his stomach was incomprehensible. But he didn't laugh. Instead, he reached for your hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze and offered you a tender smile.

"Yeah," he breathed, shutting off the ignition before adding, "Of course."

The house was dark but warm as you stepped into the threshold, the heat settling into your bones and coaxing a soft sigh from your lips. Your bag fell from Eddie's shoulder followed by his own as he tucked them next to the litter of shoes. And you were still unmoving when he turned back to you, flicking a few light switches on illuminating your sunken features.

His hands moved before he could think and he was unzipping your jacket, softly peeling it from your body. You let him bend down and untie your one shoelace making it match it's already untied sibling before he was urging you to lean onto his shoulder for support as he tugged off your shoes. And then he was doing the same for himself, jacket draping over yours on the coat wrack and shoes finding a home clumsily next to yours.

"You hungry?" he asked. You shook your head on instinct but he was tutting at you. "C'mon, you should eat something."

So you acquiesced as his hand found yours and pulled you to the kitchen, flipping switches in his wake to brighten the house. He pulled out the chair to the kitchen table, guiding you to sit down before wandering over to rummage through your fridge.

"I'm gonna make you the Eddie special," he declared, squinting into your fridge and pushing things around as his hands searched for anything enticing.

There was no Eddie special but he liked the little laugh you let out at the declaration. He grabbed ingredients that he knew you liked, haphazardly pushing them onto the counter. He grabbed a half loaf of bread from the bread box and a plate from the cupboard. He nearly dropped a glass cup, juggling it in the air for a moment before securing it to his chest with a quick expletive.

You watched him flit around and felt your chest compressing in affection and longing. Eddie never failed to make you feel better, though today was tougher than most. He was the first person you called when you were worried about something, the first person you thought of when you wanted advice, and the first person you went to even when you knew you were going to ugly cry in front of him. And he never shied away. Instead he wiped away your tears and played your favorite music and made you an Eddie special, which you knew didn't exist but it still made your heart swell at the thought.

Those three words sat on the tip of your tongue, soaking sweetness into your taste buds. He glanced up at you, tongue peaking out of his lips in concentration, smile quirking to the side as his eyes squinted at you. And then he was walking towards you, placing the plate in front of you with a proud Voilà leaving his lips.

It was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a bundle of strawberries, and a glass of orange juice but the strawberries were laid out in what was meant to be a smiley face though the fruit had rolled around distorting the picture. He rubbed his palm to the side of his jean clad thigh, suddenly nervous at your prolonged stare at the plate.

"'S not much but–" he started, insecurity pooling in his stomach.

"I love it," you interjected. I love you, you thought.

He let out a small breath, the corners of his mouth tugging up as he took the seat beside you. You scooted your chair closer making the bottoms of it scrape loudly on the tile, pushing the plate to rest between you and you grabbed half of the sandwich and held it out to him so you could share.

He wondered if you could see the fondness rushing out of him as he took a bite of his half just as you took a bite of yours. He wondered if you could hear his heart hammering in his chest as you leaned in to take a strawberry from the plate. He wondered if you caught his eyes trailing to your lips as they circled around the red berry, a droplet of juice running down your chin.

He was swiping it away instantly, thumb brushing your chin before tasting it between his lips. You felt your heart flutter at the action, feeling nearly breathless at the casual way he licked the juice from his thumb.

You were blinking at him and you felt like your chest was concaving. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and he felt suddenly frozen at your stare. He opened his mouth to say something but his voice was stolen as your hand moved up to caress his cheek. You watched his Adam's apple bob as your fingers moved to weave through his hair. You brushed wiry strands back, tucking them behind his ear. Your thumb ghosted over his eyebrow, then brushed his temple, then followed the curve of his cheek from the bridge of his nose to the swell of his cheekbone.

"Eddie," you breathed, anxiety pinching at your throat and he hummed. His eyes now hooded and heavy trailed from your eyes to your lips, up the slope of your nose and back to your eyes that he swears could get him to commit murder.

"I love you." The admission had nausea flooding your stomach but you couldn't hold it back any longer. You knew things wouldn't be the same after this. You knew you could be shattering a delicate bond but the words were starting to grow sour in your mouth the longer you held back from saying them. And you needed him to know. He needed to know that the more he treated you this preciously the worse off you would be when you got your heart inevitably broken.

"Yeah," he was breathless as your fingers traced his face. His cheeks felt hot and goosebumps erupted on his arms at your touch. He wondered if his eyes were heart-shaped by now–

He felt like his brain had short circuited. You had said something. You had said–

"What?" His voice was a ghost of a whisper. His eyes met yours and saw the doubt and fear and anguish swimming in your irises. You opened your mouth but no words came out and he felt desperate for you to repeat yourself for fear that he had misheard you or had mistaken you for one of his fantasy versions of you where you wrapped him in your arms and professed your love for him between kisses.

"What did you say?" his voice was firmer now, sandwich long forgotten on the place as his hands flew to your cheeks. Your hand fell to grip his bicep, squeezing nervously. "Please," he breathed, desperation soaking his tone.

"I love you," you repeated. You weren't sure if it was healthy for your heart to be beating this fast. And you waited with trepidation for his rejection and for that dark shadow of hopelessness to consume you whole.

But suddenly his lips were on yours. Warm, velvety, soft lips molding into yours, air expelling from his nose to brush your face as he sighed into the kiss. His fingers were intertwining into your hair, tugging you impossibly closer and you were melting into him nearly falling out of your chair to get closer, hands grasping at the cotton of his shirt.

"Say it again," he mumbled against your lips, forehead burning against yours, eyes shut as he memorized the feeling of your lips against his.

So you whispered it again and a third time when hot desperate kisses followed. Soon you were pulled onto his lap, one arm encircling your waist to press you closer and other moving his hand to cup your cheek.

"I love you, too," he replied, voice breathless and low and rumbly.

Like a man starved, Eddie's kisses didn't wain. And he paid special care to your abused bottom lip, hoping his sweet kisses would ease any lingering pain. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself closer as if having any part of you not touching him was painful.

His fantasies of you spanned nearly all facets of his life from the most mundane tasks to the softness of his sheets but never in his wildest dreams did he imagine kissing you would feel so wonderful. His mind had turned foggy and suddenly the only working braincells he had left were telling him to kiss you over and over and over again.

"Be my girl," he murmured, lips lifting from yours to let the words out before they were reconnecting again. And you hummed against him, brain registering his words on a five second delay and tingling at his overwhelming affection.

"Sunshine," he muttered, finally finding the will to pull back so he could open his eyes. Your lips were swollen and your eyes were warm and you chased his lips with furrowing brows at his halting affection. And he kissed you again and again before repeating the term of endearment finally getting your attention.

"I want you to be my girl," he said again, voice stronger, arms wrapping around your torso tighter, lips leaning in to kiss your jaw and then where your jaw met your neck and then over your throat making your breath hitch.

"I thought the answer was obvious," you breathed, tingles shooting up your spine as he nipped at your neck before kissing away the hinting sting.

"I wanna hear you say it," he said against your skin, kisses alternating with soft love bites.

"Yes," you replied, leaning in for another kiss before adding a soft, "dummy."

You squealed as his hands dug into your sides, retribution for your name calling. And he grinned up at you, hugging you closer and repeating his three favorite words again against the underside of your jaw. And you felt like you could finally breathe again, the looming shadow of anxiety and dread pulling back, sulking off to haunt you another day. But you were okay with it because when it came back you knew exactly who to go to. And he'd make you an Eddie special and kiss you until you forgot your own name and you would be okay.

Bonus:

"Do you have any consideration for other people's time, Henderson?" Steve's voice was sharp as Dustin swung open the back door of his car. Lucas and Max were squeezed next to each other leaving him a spot.

"I was running late from class. Sue me, Steve, really," Dustin grumbled, slamming the door shut behind him. Max scoffed at him.

"We could see you talking to Eddie," she quipped, arms crossed over her chest as she glowered at him. Lucas grimaced from beside her.

"Yeah you big fat liar," Steve mumbled before snipping at him to put his seatbelt on.

"Hey, no need for the name calling," Dustin said back and Steve shot him a look from the rearview mirror. Mike twisted around from the passenger seat and held up the walkie-talkie .

"Is this a toy to you? Do you carry it around like an accessory? Because, funny enough, the rest of us use it to communicate especially if were making everyone wait–"

"Okay, now you're being dramatic," Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Well, did you only answer me because Y/N got there? I think they'd have enough consideration not to make out in front of you," Mike added, annoyed that he had seen Dustin deliberately ignoring his repeated calls despite chucking in a code red just to see if he would finally answer.

"They don't make out. They're not even . . ." Steve trailed off, squinting into the distance at you and Eddie and how much closer you had gotten since his last glance.

"They sure look like they're making out," Max said, eyebrows raising as she shoved Dustin harshly into his seat so she could lean closer towards the window.

"Hey–Ow!" he whined.

"I wanna see!" Lucas piped up, leaning over Max's shoulder making her elbow dig harshly into Dustin's stomach.

"You're–Crushing–Me!"

Taglist: @eateraa

Let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist! The request for this can be found here.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things fanfic

2K notes · View notes

witchofhimring · 4 months

Text

Loyalty Chapter 9

Synopsis: Kings Landing falls and Rhaenyra calls for your head. A life comes into the world, another is taken.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, Plot twist at the end!

Amelia Tarley had her back towards the New Gods. The Sept had secede to be a place of comfort. Once all her family was gone she pulled up her hood and headed into the garden. Today it was empty and for that she was grateful. H/c fell around her face, obscuring the girl. From around her neck she pulled a heavy iron key. Looking around to check, Amelia plunged it into a keyhole in the ground. With a click the secret door was open. Ameila grunted as she forced open the trap door. Carefully she slipped inside, one hand on the door. With some difficulty, she had a lamp in her hand, stabilized herself on the stairs. Down she went, one step at a time. The steps were not damp, but years of wear mean the once prominent form of the steps were worn down. Finally her feet hit the dirt ground and she padded down the hallway.

At the end was a wooden door. It was so dilapidated that there was no need to unlock it. Faintly one could see a white Weirwood tree painted onto the pealing wood. With a light push it opened onto a small room.

Y/n, Ameila Tarley's daughter, eyes the needle as it slid between two pieces of thread. You had been lucky. The first few months had been easy on you. But at the sixth month your belly expanded alarmingly. The maester on hand told you that it was normal. Sometimes a woman will not show until later on in the pregnancy. Exploring had been halted as walking had become somewhat difficult. Thankfully all your dresses had been made to accommodate the belly. It seemed Alys Rivers was aware beforehand of your pregnancy. The thought unsettled you. Even Prince Aemond and Ellyn had not been aware. Servants gossip perhaps?

The Gold thread was delicate between your fingers. All alone in this great big tower you felt at peace. One might think that being away from the glittering court of Casterly Rock to the bleakness of Harrenhal would make you sad. On the contrary you were more at peace than you had been in months. No eyes on you, no judging husband or insolent mistresses. Just you and the baby. There was just two individuals you saw frequently, Marisa and Alys. Marisa was a young willowy woman with heaps of brown hair. She was to be your maid. Alys had taken what you felt to be an unusual amount of interest. Frequently she had asked how you slept, at and whether the babe was well. It was just so strange.

Alys entered the room with a steaming pot of mulled wine. She placed it next you and looked at the result of hard labor. "A family tree." This familiarity might have earned her a rebuke. But Alys held some sort of power that made such comments feel unwarranted. "Yes." You flattened the fabric to show long, thin lines of gold connecting names. You had just gotten to your mothers name, Amelia Tarley, an archer situated underneath. Seeing her name, Alys had a look of frank curiosity. Green eyes drifted up to another name,

"That is a northern house." Alys Rivers commented. "Yes, the Reeds...." Trailing off, it hit you that your First Men heritage had never concerned you before. Your mother had been a Tarley, and her mother before had hailed from house Reed. The northerners had always seemed so alien to you that it never crossed your thought their blood flowed through those same veins. Your right hand traced the black thread. House Reed, like most other Northern houses fought for Rhaenyra. Those who were close in blood were your sworn enemies. How would your grandmother Laura Reed feel about you taking the side of her houses enemies? Although few could chose their marriages your belly curled in on itself.

"Do you know the words of house Reed?" Alys Rivers sat down in front of you. Any other time you might have been offended. But your thoughts lingered on old lessons. The Starks went by "Winter Is Coming". The Boltons went by "Our Blades Are Sharp". But other then that no other came to mind. It was embracing really, you knew the names and mottos of every house in The Reach. But outside of any prominent family in Kings Landing you were completely ignorant. "They swear by ice and fire"." Cryptic words. A shiver passed through you.

An old book you had pillaged from the library lay open. It was late and hardly a soul stirred (although some certainly still did). The candle light flickered illuminating old parchment scribed a century ago. You flipped through the pages until they landed on house Reed, signified by its telltale lizard.

House Reed is situated in the Neck, making it the most southern of all the northern houses. They have ruled from there since the Marsh Kings defeat thousands of years before the conquest (the exact date is unknown). They make their oaths by the words "Ice and Fire".

It was the oddest name. Was the motto in reference to an old grudge? You continued to read.

There are no contemporary accounts as to why House Reed chose there exact words. However members of their houses insist it is to remind Westeros of The Others.

The Others, a northern superstition. Though this was hardly the most wild northern superstition. They believed in all sorts of things. With a thump the book was placed aside. The baby had given a kick and you winced. "Hey." You said quietly. With a puff you blew out the candle and laid back on fluffed up pillows. Hands rested on a belly whose occupant was suddenly very active. You could almost not believe it. Motherhood had always been a woman's duty but every time the babe turned it felt unreal. For everyone else this was the heir to Casterly Rock, but to you this babe was previous, whether male or female. A safe delivery was all you asked for. Even if it was a girl she would still be important. You thought to your fate after the birth. Where would you go next? Casterly Rock was an option. Or would they make you go back to the Red Keep? It was not as if you had a choice in the matter. You were not some great lady who could call on loyal bannermen and family for defense. What if they separated you from the baby?! That outcome was not unlikely. At nineteen you were still young and would likely be remarried. Ellyn may even convince them to do so, out of resentment for her continuing bareness. A hand touched your belly.

You flipped through the page until a terrifying face leapt out at you. Alarmed and curious, you flipped back. In ink were rotting corpses walking eerily along the snow. At least you pictured them walking in an ungainly fashion. Images of sickly arms swaying back and forth like branches on a tree came to mind. Empty eyes with no signs of life. Gaping mouths with the stench of death on them. A thrill of horror passed through and you dared to read.

White Walkers. No man and perhaps even the Gods do not know where these creatures hail from. In the Dark Night they came to claim the lives of every man and woman in Westeros. Gods know they could even have taken the world. The Great Wall was erected and brave men stand watching. But they may come again.

The passage was short. Nevertheless your mind raced at the thought of dead corpses ravaging Westeros. Furiously you put the book away. This was ridiculous. Of course white walkers did not exist. What, did talking trees and fairies exist too? No. You were being silly.

But for the first time your dreams were filled, not with blood, but a cold landscape. And a woman with h/c flittered in and out.

Your ladies would arrive any day now. For that you were grateful. On the day they were to arrive a young man no older than yourself raced into Harrenhal, breathless. Everyone had been breaking their fast, a usually dull affair. The tense silence was broken when the double doors were unceremoniously thrown open and a boy staggered through. "Your Grace." He was winded. One of the women stood up and filled a glass. After several gulps he places it down, a line of red down his chin. "Your mother had me come. Your Grace, Kings Landing has fallen."

No one dared move. Everyone stayed in the hall, awaiting their fate. Was the war won for Rhaenyra? If so what did that mean for you? And what of your ladies, had they been waylaid, or a worse fate? Soon tales came in. Thankfully the King and the children had fled. But it seemed the women were not important enough as Dowager Queen Alicent and Queen Helaena were prisoners. At least the children were safe. Rhaenyra was not a merciful, not after the loss of her sons. Vaeron's screams invaded your ears. A tic developed in your right hand and soon that arms was full of pins and needles. Your left hand came up to your hair. Nervously you played with the ends.

An hour later another came, this man one of Rhaenyra's. He was younger than you, eyes anxiously flitted between everyone. He was dressed in Targaryen black and red, you wondered if that was wise. Prince Aemond stood looming over the boy. The youth quaked beneath Prince Aemond. The boy pulled out a scroll with shaking fingers. "Read it. Aemond ordered." The boy stammered and then red. "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name and rightful Queen pf Westeros commands Aemond Targaryen to submit himself to the Iron Throne, without the company of Vaehgar. We will have you know that the Dowager Queen and Princess Helaena-" "Queen Helaena." Prince Aemond snarled. A borderline hysteric gasp left the boy. He looked like to faint. You did not blame him. "-are in our custody and will suffer the Queen's wrath if Prince Aemond does not come before Her Grace. Lady Y/n Tyrell will also be brought before the Queen to suffer judgment for the death of her son Prince Vaeron." Everything before you was blurry, the ground beneath solid as water. E/c eyes rolled into the back of your head as a scream filled the room.

You remembered nothing after that.

Rivers of blood danced around you in torrents. It ripped at your very being, threatening to sweep you away. Blood ran down your body, from the chest to the legs. Running down your body in a great morbid waterfall. A shrill cry was lost in the howl of the storm. It pressed in from all sides while pooling at your feet. You were reduced under this storm, weak against its power. Standing there with the certainty of someone doomed you allowed the walls to close in.

A cold towel lay across your forehead. As your senses came back you felt a warm feather bed underneath. The roar of a crackling fire. The howl of a storm outside. Then the sensations of your body awakened. Everything was sore and your head pounded. A slight sting could be felt on your right cheek. The first thing to move were your fingers. A flash of cold shuddered through them. Opening your eyes was a hard task. Then you felt fingers graze your face. Suddenly opening your eyes was not such a hard task. Alys Rivers hovered over you, jet black hair falling like a waterfall around you. Her piercing green eyes regarded you, seeking out something. "My Prince, she wakes." A creak came from the foot of your bed and Prince Aemond Targaryen stood up. "Lady Y/n?" He sounded uncertain, the title not coming out naturally.

"Well, she certainly caused a scene back there." Ellyn, how wonderful. Alys Rivers helped you sit up slightly, propped up by pillows. "Lady Y/n!" Lady Mari darted forward, her normally immaculate hair askew. "Your here....all of you?" Something dark passed over Lady Mari's face but it quickly passed. A painful throb passed through your head. With a hiss you lay back down. "Everyone is here. Lady Clarissa and Dara are in their rooms right now. Prince Jaecerion will be back in a moment." Your heart leapt at the thought of Jaecerion. It may not have been love but there was certainly affection.

The letter. Anxiety set in as the words came back. Rhaenyra Targaryen wanted you dead. "The letter." "What letter?" Lady Dara looked to Prince Aemond. Prince Aemond's eyes closed and his fist tightened. "Lady Y/n recived a letter from my sister. It seems Rhaenyra means to take revenge for the death of her son." "But that is hardly the lady's fault." Oh how comforting the words were. How you wished those words were true. But Lady Joan's words had prevailed. Shame, regret and a whirl of emotions passed through. "Don't you start crying. Now that woman's wrath will fall on us for your folly." Everyone looked to Ellyn. "I beg your pardon?" An astonished Lady Mari regarded Ellyn. "Oh please. Her wrath would have fallen here regardless. Have you forgotten your own husband slew Lucerys?" This only fueled the flames of Ellyn's rage. She stalked towards you. A palpable vengeance emanated from her very soul. In that moment you knew if Ellyn had the chance she would run a knife right through you. Even Prince Aemond stepped back. "Do you think you're safe? That a child protects you?" Her deep crimson dress rippled as step by step she came closer. In that moment she look almost as terrifying as Alys Rivers. Tall, with flowing dark hair and eyes that seemed to light up with a fire of their own. But unlike Alys who's eyes were hard to read Ellyn's were easy. Hatred.

"And what will you do?" Not one to back down from a confrontation, you fully sat up. No one stooped you, too transfixed. "Because one day something bad will happen. And when that happens your will wish you had never crossed-." "Quiet." Now their eyes landed on you. A lady challenging a princess. Every part of your body ached. Anger prevailed as you stood up on shaky legs. The train of your gown trailed behind you, rippling over old stone. Light illuminated the two figures standing. Yet nothing compared to the hate illuminating Y/n and Ellyn's eyes. Their wrath was more hateful than when Balerion's flames smote upon Harrenhal all those centuries ago. It carried malice akin to all the tormented souls that paced these old halls. An enchantment had been cast over Prince Aemond, Alys Rivers and Lady Mari. Mute horror dwelled on the prince's and lady's face, Alys River's was hidden in shadow. "And if you were to do that, what would happen? Do you simply think I will leave such a challenge unanswered?" Ellyn sneered. "What would you do then, Lady Y/n?" You stepped closer. Her sickly breath was upon your face. "It is not what would I do. It is what have I done. Did you think all those slights went unpunished?" Ellyn let lose a derisive laugh. But you waited. When she realized you did not continue she stopped. Because there was a cold look you bore, one that boded ill for her. "Have you wondered why you have never fallen with child?" Lady Mari gasped. Prince Aemond inhaled sharply. But none of those reactions mattered. All that existed was Ellyn and the pain you meant to cause. "You allowed a woman you hated near you. Allowed me to handle your robes, drinks and cakes. I reigned freely over every morsel that entered your mouth. How easy it would have been to simply slip something in." There was nothing for Ellyn to laugh about this time. Nor anyone else but you. Ellyn swayed precariously on her feet. You thought she meant to lunge at you. Back she went. Ellyn collapsed to the cold hard ground.

You never thought yourself a cruel woman. Growing up with the Maiden and Mother in mind such leanings should be crushed. But the past few months had fed such notions. Different being now called out to you. These voices were not so benevolent. They told you to maime, hurt. The despair of Ellyn tasted sweeter than any pastry. More nourishing than any meat. You had a greater need for it than life itself. You sat alone in your room. Ellyn had been hurried away. The rest had left, although Alys Rivers had asked to stay. Prince Aemond, not having it, ordered her to depart. So with reluctance Alys Rivers obeyed, but not before casting you once last glance. There was appraisal in her eyes. Then they left you.

You reclined on a chair by the window. One hand absentmindedly stroking your belly. The other rested on the windowsill. A full moon ruled the sky tonight. The woods bellow looked like something savage and mysterious on the very boarders of civilization. Taking a deep breath you tasted the nighttime air. Even up here you could smell every tree. Pine, birch, aspen, spruce, oak, and another scent that was familiar but whose name escaped you. Little whispers drifted up to your perch high above. You wondered what was in those woods. Perhaps one day you might like to take a look. There was something that drew you to that forest.

Prince Aemon stormed in, you had not expected this. There was such a stark look of rage upon his face that had he looked at you like that a year ago there would have been tears. Now there was only a lurch and dulled feelings. It was like looking at something through a frosted window that was once clear. You could see what was on the other side but it was blurred, the true scope a mere shadow of what it once was. No tears were shed, although your face did heat up, but not out of bashfulness or guilt. You remembered a time when you had begged Prince Aemond in that amoury. How weak you had been then. Your pride ached from that memory, throbbing like an open wound. So all you did was coldly stare at him.

Prince Aemond did not speak for a moment. A few time he opened his mouth, unable to find the right words. The shadow of a smile ghost your lips. "That.....that was-" "Cruel? It is no less than what she has done to me." If he excepted remorse then Prince Aemond had come to the wrong person. You relaxed against your chair, eyes coolly regarding the Prince. Once again Prince Aemond seemed to loose his words. It was an odd sight truly. The last time Prince Aemond had behaved with anything less than certainty had been during childhood. When he had two eyes instead of one, had no dragon and clung to his mothers skirts. In those says you had been his greatest friend, always by his side. Now all these years later the two of you stood in opposition instead of side by side. He only had one eye with a slightly gaunt look to him. His hair hung limply about the Prince's pale face. You on the other hand regarded him with little affection in your eyes. Red robes flowed out around you. If one had walking in at that moment they might have thought you a queen. Straight backed, an imperious disposition and looking at the Prince as one would to those beneath them.

"Who am I, Prince Aemond?" "Y/n." "No. I am Y/n Lannister. Dowager Lady of House Lannister and you are far to familiar in your behavior towards me. You will leave this room so that I can get properly dressed." Prince Aemond looked as if you had slapped him across the face. But he did as you bid and a moment later a maid came in. "I will have one of mine." The maid left and the Prince shot you one last look before leaving. Eventually Lady Mari entered bearing a crimson gown. She dressed you and your hair was plated into a braid. Prince Aemond only entered once you were prepared and Lady Mari was dismissed. Prince Aemond decided to side across from you. This pleased you. He should treat you as you were, a great lady of the realm, not some little girl he could chastise. "I understand your grievances these past few months. The war has been hard on us all. But you must understand my wife has been out of sorts as of late." You did not care. "That does not concern me. I expected to be treated as befits my station. Yet Princess Ellyn spreads rumors and throws mud on my reputation." Prince Aemond's fist clenched ever so slightly. "I am aware that my wife has been tackles as of late-" "Tackles is not quite the word I would use." Prince Aemond's first came down, right onto the arm of his chair. You jumped back when a resounding "crack" echoed across the room. There was a fire in his eyes that suddenly frightened you. He stood up, looming over you. In one stride Prince Aemond's hands seized the arms of your chair. His face was inches from your own.

"Your spite, My Lady, is quite something. I never would have thought it of you." A shaky breath shook your body which had suddenly run cold. Prince Aemond was not done. "I would turn you out after what has transpired. If it was not for my mothers remaining fondness for you I would." You wished you could say this was little more than words. Pain came roaring back with a vengeance. A year ago, would Prince Aemond have spoken this way to you? The thin veneer of detachment you had worn was stripped away. Now you felt lesser than ever before. It was one thing for Ellyn to rage at you, quite another for it to be a former friend. "Then you are as fickle as I thought. Though I suppose that is a common quality of a kinslayer." Prince Aemond shot back as if you in turn had struck him. Ragged breaths escaped him. There was anger in both your eyes. Suddenly Prince Aemond darted towards and seized you by the arms. "Aemond!" You cried out. His grip was bruising as he hauled you out of the chair. The babe in your belly lurched with his force. The wind was immediately knocked out of you. "Let go of me!" You snarled, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp. But the Prince was stronger. "I will not have you calling me kinslayer. Not you." The last words stumbled out of his mouth. They carried a weight that caused you to pause. Your eyes met.

The momentary tableau was broken when you broke away. Gone was the coolness of your eyes, replaced by hot tears. "Leave." It was all you could say. You wanted to be left alone. But Prince Aemond ignored you. "I never asked for this." He said. The momentary anger was gone, replaced by a look of utter defeat. "And I never asked for this either. And yet you discarded me as if I were less than nothing. So do as you have done these past months and leave me." Yet here he still stood. "Did you ever think I wanted to?" Prince Aemond took a step towards you, though this time not in anger. "I doubt it bothered you." Anger clenched your belly when he had the audacity to look hurt. You would rather he be awful to you. It would have made it so much easier on your consciousness. "You know I have duties." He said. And it hurt because it was true, there was little he could have done. It was also not his fault you loved him and he did not. That was the worst part. He had as much freedom as yourself and the guilt suddenly weighed on you. But your hurt was still great and as so often your emotions took precedence. This time around your pain won out. "Please, just go." The conversation was cut short. Perhaps if things had gone different your life would have gone a different way. Not this time around.

Prince Aemond finally left. He was no longer glowering down at you but diminished, exhausted, and looking older than his twenty years. You watched him go and only then did you break down a weep.

At least you had your ladies. Lady Dara especially has a joy, for she always had gossip and enjoyed wine and sweets. Although you would have to abstained from drinking the cakes were free for taking. Lady Clarissa had become very quiet and even though you attempted to comfort her she abstained from divulgence. From what you heard Ellyn was still bedridden. Apparently your words had done Ellyn quite the turn. "Her skin is an unpleasant hue and some of her piss is..." "Is what?" You demanded impatiently. The maid leaned in close. "Is black, My Lady." Had your words truly done so much damage? Although it should be mentioned Ellyn had not look good before her collapse. If this had been another woman you would have felt sorry. The young ladies of Ellyn's retinue were no longer so bold. They took care to avoid you these days. Perhaps they were mindful for the future. A future where your power could preside over their destinies. Now, they might have realized that you might determine their futures. King Aegon was unlikely to have any more children, and if Ellyn died then Prince Aemond would be free to marry. As Y/n Tyrell, a relative of the Tyrell family might not be seen as a suitable bride to the second prince, the Dowager Lady of Casterly Rock might be seen in a different light. The notion did come to mind. Once the idea of marrying Prince Aemond might have excited you, now it was a mere speculation.

There were more pressing matters. Rhaenyra Targaryen had vowed to kill you. Even in this great place you were not safe. Rhaenyra could take Syrax and fly up to Harrenhal, doing what her ancestor Aegon the Conqueror had done over a hundred years ago. But no wings echoed in the sky. Soon, you would know why.

"Go back!" The words were howling in your mind. Between sleeping and waking the voices howling in your room. A burning rubbed against your wrists, the babe turned in your belly. There was only darkness. No images of blood or trees. Only the encompassing darkness. The voices were telling you to turn back. And suddenly Weirwood trees smeared in blood burst up in front of you. And now out of the darkness you were thrust back into that bloody forest. It surrounded you, seeking to drag you into its depths. A great bell went off and it went still. A darkness fell over the forest, a great full moon rising. A large Weirwood tree started to move, twisting inwards onto itself. You staggered back as it morphed into a little person. Except it was not a person. Smaller than an adult, its skin was green and eyes wide. All seeing, the creature gazed upon you. "Time must turn."

"My Lady!" Lady Clarissa had shaken you awake. The sound of shutters being slammed closed shook the room. "What were those shutters doing open!' Lady Mari's irate voice made your head throb. You sat up with the help of Lady Clarissa. She pressed a cup of some barley smelling liquid to your lips. With a sigh you reclined back onto the pillows. Lady Mari stormed out only to come back in a moment later, Alys Rivers on her heel. "This....this fool opened the shutters!" You had never seen Lady Mari so angry. Alys Rivers did not seem perturbed. "Fresh air is good." Alys Rivers justified. "Not for pregnant women!" "My Lady, I recon I know more about pregnancy than you." Alys Rivers nonchalantly retorted. "I am well Lady Mari." Lady Mari looked ready to argue, but seemed to think better of it. So she relented and dismissed herself. Lady Clarissa busied herself with a wooden box of herbs she had brought from Casterly Rock. Alys Rivers seemed intrigued, for she advanced forward and peered in. "You have a good collection. Who taught you?" 'My mother." Replied Lady Clarissa. You looked up at the canopy overhead. What would your mother have taught you had she lived? Rarely in recent years had you thought of Amelia Tarley. She had given you life but had been little more than a shadow. If you died in the childbed, as so many women did, would your child think of you? Even Queens fell in this most womanly of battles. Queen Alyssa bad been cut open, as had Queen Aemma. Even if you survived the child might perished, like with Rhaenyra who accounts said was ill after. Would you be lucky? Childbirth had no remedy, so ironclad security of your safety. The place of birth would likely be here, in these haunted halls. This place claimed the lines of all those who ruled here. At least this was not your castle so perhaps the ghosts would leave you alone.

But ghosts were not the only otherworldly things that stalked the halls. And Alys Rivers had no intention of leaving you alone.

Despite having your ladies back Alys River and Marisa stayed on in service. Marisa remained hard working and Alys Rivers being mysterious as ever. When you woke from those odd dreams Alys Rivers was by the fire. It was waking from one of these dreams that grave new came. At the hour of the wolf you were woken. In your dream little green children darted in and out between trees. Sometimes you were able to make out what they said. Their favourites were "turn back" and "time". When your eyes opened the fading imprint of a tree slowly disappeared as the waking world summoned you. Gravely Lady Mari approached you. Thoughts ran through your mind. Who had died? For someone surely had. "Casterly Rock was invaded. They managed to repel the Ironborn from the castle but they have sacked Lannisport. Two thousand are dead, hundreds of women have been abducted. The late Lord Lannister's uncle was killed as was his (Lord Lannister) mistress Lady Redwyne with her youngest daughter." The words stumbled out and you were left stunned. Thousands dead or abducted. Although there was no sadness for Lady Redwyne you pitied the babe. Your deceased husbands youngest bastard had only been a little girl. What monster could kill a child?

"Is there any word from Kings Landing?" "The Usurper Rhaenyra is on poorer terms with Ser Corlys Velaryon. But they still hold firm." You threw the covers off you and picked up a silk robe. "Thank you. May I have a moment?" Lady Mari took that as dismissal and curtsied. You did not dismiss Alys Rivers. Going to the window you looked down. At the seventh month your belly had expanded still further. The baby was now kicking. The first time had been when Alys Rivers had been helping you out of the tub. When her thin pale hand rested on your belly the baby kicked out. The pair of you stared in wonder. Since then the babe was busy. It brought relief that the baby was at least healthy. Worries about a stillbirth seemed more distant these days.

You thought of all the mothers who had lost their children, either through death or kidnapping. How women bore the loss was beyond you. And frankly, you never wanted to. "You are concerned." Alys Rivers appeared by your side. The two of you stood there looking down at the forest bellow. "I am. I pity the mothers who have lost their children." Alys Rivers tensed and now you wished the topic had never been broached. They said Alys Rivers had nursed children. In order to do she she must have been with child. But never once had a child been seen. You wondered, if Alys Rivers, had lost children, how she bore it. The desire to ask was there. But to ask such a question felt cruel.

"Would you like to read, My Lady." It was less of a question, as often you asked Alys Rivers to grab one book or another. You gave her leave and called for Marisa to bring food. Shortly later you were curled in a chair eating and reading away. This book was one of the older books in the castles library. It had come all the way from Winterfell as a book by a Stark lord. It was on older things that the sept might consider borderline heretical. Fascinated, you flipped through the pages observing every symbol. Someone had left in a bookmark. Curiously, you went to that page. On its surface was the drawing of a circle, a carved face in its center. Engravings of symbols marked the outside of the circle. According to ancient northmen this symbol represented time. Once there had even been a God created by the northmen, a difference from their many nameless Gods. Of course it fell out of fashion. But the symbol had been used by certain houses, to remind those of the shortness of time and anything related to it. The words "Ice and Fire" came to mind. You still had not worked out what it meant. But they stuck with you.

Prince Aemond left with Ser Criston Cole, Ellyn's health was spiraling and your due date drew closer. Another month passed in tense silence. At eight months you were so close to giving birth. Your room was getting ready for the birth. Several midwives and been brought in along with two wet-nurses. A maester arrived to give advice along with a septa. You spent most days of laying in bed in a crowded room. There was not a moment you spent alone. Lady Mari and Lady Dara spent time sewing by the fire. Lady Clarissa and Alys Rivers hovered over herbs, the septa giving them dirty looks. "Herbs accomplish not what the Seven provide." Was her favourite saying. Once a day the maester would come and ask questions, but was not allowed to touch you. The three midwives presided with Lady Mari over the arrangements. They said all you had to do was lay back and rest. But restlessness stirred within you. Being forced to stay in this room nearly drove you mad.

"The mother comforts all good women. She gives them strength through their trials." The septa read out of the Seven Stars. Tired, you laid on the bed. These words were memorized by heart as you learned them at Elinor's knee. Once they had meant something, and you wished they still did. So much of you had been lost this year. The girl from Kings Landing was dead. Left behind was a tired woman who could no longer find comfort in the Seven.

Despite you reclusiveness words from the outside world still made their way in. Prince Aemond had set the Riverlands ablaze with Vaehgar. Lady Baela Targaryen had been taken prisoner by King Aegon who chased her on dragon back, killing her dragon. You never would have thought it of the King. Lazy and given to vice, King Aegon had never been one for formative action. But he had regained some strength and broken both legs in the battle with Lady Baela. Now she languished in prison, dragonless. "Daemon must be frantic." You thought. It gave you some pleasure to think that Daemon was wracked with fear for his child. After what he had put Helaena through, what he had put you through, there was no pity left for him. Not that you bore personal ill will towards Lady Baela, but your hatred for the Rouge Prince was great.

"The whole realm is in flames." Lady Clarissa looked up from her work. She was pale with the hue of someone plagued with insomnia. It alarmed you how haggard she looked these days. Something had happened yet no one would reveal anything. You did notice Alys Rivers stuck by her side. You supposed Alys Rivers had the ability to ingratiate herself towards others. Some people were like that. 🤍

Time slowly passed by, the time of the birth came. But for Ellyn it was the hour of her death.

The babe would be ready soon. The ninth month was upon you and the castle held its breath. Not just for you but Ellyn Baratheon. By now the woman was throwing up black bile. You wondered if it was poison. Who hated Ellyn enough to kill her? It was worrying that there were those who might point the finger at you. Many new the rivalry that had transpired. When she died there would be those who would think it was you. Your fears were told to Lady Mari who told you not to pay them any mind. But you wondered if she was only saying that to keep you calm. You might have gone to Prince Aemond but your pride was great. Exhaustion had also greatly depleted your strength. You could hardly get up much less run about.

That night you slept peacefully in bed. Lady Clarissa slept beside you that night. A midwife rested in a chair by the fire. The last thing you saw before rest was the full moon, and the last thing you heard was the rustling of leaves. The last thing you felt was the stirring of the babe in your womb.

You waded through a sea of blood, dead butterflies floating on the surface. Their wings had been blue, but was died red. On you was a heavy green cape. It weighed you down. You stooped down and collected a butterfly. It lay there still. The blood swirled before you and Helaena rose from its depths. "You will change your coat." Then she was gone, back under the waves. It splashed your green cloak, staining it with unsightly splotches. On you walked through the blood. Weirwood trees stood every few feet. Faces stuck out at you, their faces unreadable. Looking down at your wrists you noticed thin lines of blood on them. The ground underneath you quaked and you stumbled forward. Into a tree you went. When you looked ahead the symbol of time was engraved on the bark. The red blood from your wrists stained it red. Thin trails of blood ebbed into the wood. It dripped down, your gaze following. Between your legs was a pool of blood.

The pain woke you. With a cry you alerted Lady Clarissa and the midwife. Lady Clarissa pulled back the sheet and gasped. Blood was pooling between your legs. Your body was both hot and cold, a deep ache that could have crimpled anyone emanated where the baby was. Alys Rivers suddenly burst in followed by the other two midwives. Lastly Lady Mari and Lady Dara rushed in. You pulled you to your feet and quickly changed your nightgown. With a midwife on each side they walked you up and down. Meanwhile the sheets on your bed was changed. When Lady Mari attempted to close the shutters you cried out "don't!". All day you were forced to labor. The only thing keeping you sane was the frantic rustling of the branches. Voices whispered to you through the pain, pushing you onwards. It carried you onwards to night. The sun set and you wondered if this would be your last sunset. Where you doomed never to see it rise again? They finally allowed you onto the bed. "She is ready. Get the chair." Hoisted off the bed, they had you on a birthing chair, legs spread. Gritting your teeth you bore down. Blood spurted onto the ground. "Almost there." Alys Rivers was beside you. Her hand rested on your arm. "It hurts." You were breathless and exhausted. "I know. But you have done so well. Just a bit longer. Your mother has done this. Laura Reed was brave. And so will you." A scream tore through you and a great force was pushed through you. Leaning back, you groaned as the weight which had been borne for months was lifted. A thin cry tore through the air as the hour of the ghosts came. Alys Rivers helped you sit up and the reality sunk in. You were a mother. Tears welled in your eyes as the newborn, your baby, cried and squirmed in the midwifes arms. She looked up at you, looking nearly as exhausted but happy. "It's a boy. You have a son My Lady."

You cradled your son, all the ladies crowded around the witness the first breaths of the new Lord of Casterly Rock. As this new boys life begun, Ellyn Baratheon's drew to a close.

Notes: I'm back! I had to take a break due to being sick, school and having writers block. I am also making a few edits for continuity sakes, but nothing too extreme that will change the story. But now that this month is finally drawing to a close scheduling is back on track so expect more frequent updates. Part two for this series is now being worked on so that it will be ready right after part one. Merry Christmas /Happy Holidays/ Happy New Year everyone!

If you want to join the taglist please let me known!

@daenerysqueenofhearts

@le-petit-lulu

@aemondswifeisme

@mandiiblanche

@gknj9495

@minakay

@strangersunghoon

@iilsenewman

@moonlightfoxx

@gknj9495

98 notes · View notes

kiwi-channn · 2 months

Text

falling petals

simon riley × fem reader (wife)

(part 2)

I was gonna make it a break up but I thought I could make it a bit more realistic so don't come at me :⁠-⁠)

Also I wanted to end it in this part but it was gonna be too long if I ended it here so maybe there will be just a part 3

Anyway hope you like this part (⁠^⁠^⁠)

(another little thing: I didn't mention any babies in part 1 but I thought I should give them a baby really to make it more reasoning for this part so reader and Simon have a little baby okay.. but it wasn't necessary before)

part 1 here

....….................................................

you were folding some of your clothes in the bedroom, it has been four days since that confession, and now y/n is just back here like nothing happened. Yes he has been sleeping on the couch in the living room but she is still back in their house, the house they built together. Every time her gaze falls on any corner in that house, memories rush to her mind, happy moments, sad moments, argument moments… it was home.. But now it feels foreign.. Not the same place she knows, not the same place she felt comfortable in, not the place she wanted to decorate most of the time, to make it look better. Now she just feels so empty like a shell thrown on the shore away from the sea water, the cruel waves kicked her out of the water she loved.

“All men are like this, just live for your kid” that sentence keeps repeating in her head, like a broken record, replaying again and again…

…….

On that confession night at 12:30 after midnight, she locked herself in the bedroom with her small baby, crying and crying until there were no more tears coming out of her eyes, but she still felt so damaged and broken, looking beside her at the roses he sent while on deployment without an occasion, now she understands why he sent them, he was guilty, that is all…

The red petals are dry, so dry, their fresh red color is fading, and they are slowly falling on the surface of the nightstand beside the bed…

Her little baby daughter is still crying.. Like she feels her mother's broken heart, crying for her sadness, y/n doesnt know how to calm down and stop her heart from bleeding nor how to calm her little girl down… it feels black not even blue… so she just kept crying with her .. Will this horrible night end?!... Is it all a horrible nightmare?...

(will i wake up now?)

After about half an hour of this bleak time, y/n decides to leave, she can’t take this anymore, she feels so disgusted at her unfaithful husband simon riley..

She gets up, her body feeling heavy, and first before anything feeding her crying baby girl to make her calm down and not cry anymore… and she gathers some of her stuff and holds her baby up in one arm and a small bag in the other hand, taking a deep breath before going out.. hoping that he isn't outside...

Slowly opening the bedroom's door, taking a peek outside to see where simon is, 'cause she doen't wanna see him… she thanks god that he isn't out there, and she doesn't care where he is really, she quickly takes some necessary stuff for the baby and wears her sneakers and leaves that dark house….

Takes a taxi to her mom’s house, she really needs her right now, she wants any kind of support, and her mother’s embrace is gonna be the best thing ever to gaher her broken pieces together….

….

“What happenned?” her mom says softly… “what did he do? Why are you back with your baby and you look horrible?”... “speak to me.. Iam getting more worried..” her mom was so concerned… she knew that something big happened making her daughter come to her this late at night..

Y/n sighs tiryingly, thinking if she should tell her mom about the whole thing…

“Nothing, I just don't wanna see his face ever again..” says so quietly with a tired heart..

“What?... you dont wanna see simon?!... are you for real?..” her mom can't believe her ears… her daughter was always so in love with him.. She is sure that something big happened .. She looks carefully at her dead looking daughter y/n… she sees her puffy red eyes from crying, her pale face…

“He is seeing someone?..” her mom said so calmly like she wasn't even asking, it is a statement…

She can't believe that her mom guessed it so quickly.. She looks at her… confused “how did you know?” .. “did he look so unloyal? Was I so stupid?.. Mom” she couldnt help but shed a few tears.. Her mother felt so sad for seeing her collapsing like this… hugging her tightly..

“I can't, i dont wanna live anymore in this world, i wish i was never even born… i did everything i can, i tried to be good at everything… where did i go wrong?..”

“It is not your fault and you know it… you did nothing wrong, you are the best, you are my daughter..”

“Then why?... why did he do that?... i feel so mad, i don't wanna see his face, i hate him… i don't wanna look at his face again… he fooled me… i was so dumb..” sobbing more..

“Calm down my dear.. Just cry it out… vent it all out.. Lighten your heart… I'm here..”

(i dont remember for how long i cried, i just cried and cried like a baby in my mom's arms… i didnt feel anything after that nor even remember what happened exactly after that……)

………..

She finished folding the clothes … then she got up and went to the kitchen to drink some water and refresh herself… she doen't know what to do anymore… but she can't ignore what her mom said a few days ago..

.........

“Mom!.. What are you saying?.. Should I just stay with him like nothing happened?... do you-”

“I know… i know it's hard and you feel so mad and disgusted… but… let's be realistic okay?..”

“Realistic!... oh so i should just ignore what happened and stick with him like he didn't do anything…”

“y/n..”

“Like he didn't see someone else.. Like he did touch someone else while I was here alone, taking care of my child alone… he was just doing that thing!... that. he touched someone else.. He .. he just loved someone else….”

“Calm down… i know what iam saying is frustrating , but i dont want you to be like me… i dont your child to not have his parents together… think about your kid… remember how you felt when your father left…”

“I remember how I felt.. But you know how it feels to be betrayed… how come you are telling me to not get a divorce!.. I dont understand you.. Mom.. I imagine how he was with her.. Was I nothing?... he just kissed her, said the same things to her.. ” tears welling up in her eyes… she feels like a broken faucet… tears driping all the time…

“Iam telling you to not do it, because i know how it feels… but every time i felt i needed someone with me to take care of you and your sister.. I wished to not be alone at that time…” her mom said..

“But..”

“It is your decision but i think you should give him a chance… give another chance to that home you built… don't just let it all down… for some other woman... Don't let her take your place".... "and at the end of the day it's your choice…”

……..

The front door opening woke her up to the present… she saw simon coming in through the door, she felt like throwing up the moment she looked at his face, and she looked back at the kettle …

He felt awkward, she used to welcome him every time he came back no matter where he went, even if it was down the street… but it feels strange now, the mood is so gloomy… like he is a guest coming for a short visit and should leave… he wants to make it better.. To solve this…

“Hey..” he says gently.. Looking at her back… he wants to get closer.. To feel her .. "I went to the store to buy some diapers for lily"

She didnt answer him.. Not even looking his way.. Like he was nothing..

He sighed and approached her a bit.. He stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, he doen't dare to get closer.. To enter her space… she has already closed the door of that unseen space…

“Can you at least answer me.. y/n” his voice was tired.. He couldn’t sleep for the last few days… feeling so grossed at himself.. He doesn't understand what he did himself…

She still doesnt answer.

“At least get mad… dont just be silent..”

“What do you want me to say?...” .. “I told you I'm only here for my child… I'm not here to fix anything..” she snaps at him… her voice raising a bit.. but her tone is still firm...

“I know that… but since I picked you up from your mom's house, you didnt say anything… and why not fix it… i will-” he is so desperate..

“I don't want anything from you… i don't even wanna see your face…” y/n says angrily…not caring about hurting his feelings like before.. she actually wanna hurt him… she wanna make him feel more horrible.. more desperate..

“I'm sorry..” he just aplogized quietly.. Making her more mad…

“I don't wanna hear it… it won't change anything…”

“Maybe if you talked.. Let it out on me….” he begs her.. he doesn't mind if she even threw anything at him.. he knows that what he did will never be forgiven especially from her.. but he still hopes a bit...

“I said stop talking to me…”

“y/n… I'm not gonna stop, I will try until you talk…” it's like he is provoking her more...

“You want me to talk!... fine.. I hate you and i feel so disgusted every time i see your face… i wish that i take all the years i wasted on you back… i wish i didn't marry you… i wish i didn't have a kid with you… i really will never ever forgive you…. I ..” she snapped again… letting lots of things out of her heart…

Simon didn't say anything back, he just listened to her.. He knows he made a huge mistake but will do anything to fix this…

And she continues “I gave you everything… all of me.. I tried and tried… I learned how to cook to make a warm meal for you and make you feel at home… I ignored how cold you get sometimes… ignored how lonely and tired i was .. all alone most of the time.. But I stayed loyal… I took care of my kid all alone… I worked hard to make this relationship work… i put my trust in you, told you all my fears ,and even though i told you i don't trust men because of my dad and you just… you..”

“I'm sorry..” he said with a so quiet tone, like he was scared to mess it up more… he doesn't know what to say... Just feeling more ashamed..

“I don't wanna hear your apology…” said quietly as she wiped her tears... she didn't want to cry in front of him...

he tried getting closer to her.. he wanted to hold her close... he really hoped she would forgive him... he really wanted them to go back to how it was.. to how warm she was.. to how happy she was... not like this...

she felt his arms around her... making her feel more broken... but it all fell down already, she can't just accept his hug like before...

he expected it when she pushed his arms away from her... walking out of the kitchen with one last sentence... "Don't get close to me.."

....

with this chaotic encounter, she goes to the bedroom and smacks the door behind her, locking it... she hates it so much... hates seeing his face.. hates his voice.. how did that woman look like.. how could he touch someone else.. this is driving her crazy... and what is driving her crazy more is how she can't cut it all and end it for good... what should she really do?... should she just let go and walk away from him?... or stay and give this a chance?... she does need help.. and needs time too... her emotions and feelings are all over the place...

#simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #cod #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #cheating #angst #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #lieutenant riley

66 notes · View notes

westviewtroubles · 1 year

Text

Heartbreak Prince

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Synopsis: Someone knocks on the door of Eddie's trailer, and you don't realize how much it breaks his heart to see you hurt.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: angst and fluff, comfort, explicit language and cursing, underage drinking.

A/N: I haven't posted since July, and honestly, it's been because I've been busy with life, and because there wasn't anything or any character that inspired me. Even my birthday went by! But because of a similar event in my life, I was inspired to write this :D Kind of sad, no? I hope you enjoy this, my writing skills might be rusty, but I tried my best!

The sound of music blaring through the trailer Eddie lived in wasn't anything unusual, the crappy stereo in his bedroom blaring Judas Priest with the volume knob turned all the way up, the boy pretending that the occasional crackling of the cassette wasn't bothering him.

He could hear the rain pattering against the steel roof of the trailer, tapping his guitar along to the noise in deep thought. Never before had he felt so uninspired, so bleak. In front of him laid the notebook where he usually wrote lyrics in, the page in front of him completely blank except for the messy drawing of a clown he had scribbled at the edge of the paper.

Eddie had been feeling this way for a while now; for the good part of the past month, there had been nothing new added onto the pages of that book but bad scribbles and the occasional math homework when he actually got bored enough to work on it.

His sulking was interrupted by a loud rapping coming from his door that almost startled him to his feet, the boy put his guitar back in its usual place as he stumbled to the front door, almost tripping on a pair of black jeans he had left on the floor.

A wide grin took over his face as he peeked out of the window, seeing a familiar girl standing there, but as he opened the door, the smile on his face slowly crept away.

You stood there in a rain-soaked brown cardigan covering your short t-shirt and your jean shorts, your arms crossed in front of your chest and a bottle of whiskey in your tight grip, a look of fury on your face that he hadn't seen before; one that he knew wasn't aimed at him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, letting you into the trailer as you took an angry swig out of the bottle, "What were you doing out in the rain? I could've come get you-"

"He cheated on me." You said with a grunt, taking another swig out of the bottle, Eddie worrying that the liquid would spill with the amount of motioning you were doing with your hands as you spoke. "I can't believe it. He actually cheated on me!"

"I think we're done with this." He muttered quietly, taking the almost full bottle out of your grasp and placing it on the table without you even so much as noticing, too busy pacing around the trailer with irritation. "Who cheated on you?"

"Aaron." You scoffed, Eddie furrowing his brows as he leaned against the counter, "You know, the dick who-"

"I know who Aaron is, but didn't you break up half a year ago?"

"That's not the point!" You ran your hand through your wet hair, pacing around while trying to straighten out your thoughts. "We broke up five months ago, but during gym, I heard Lacey say that it was her and Aaron's seven-month anniversary. This means that while he was dating me, he was two-timing me with fucking Lacey! That hag knew we had been dating for way over a year! Everyone knew! She was bragging to her little friend about how she stole him from me!"

"Shit-"

"He told me it was because we both had too much baggage, I guess his baggage was the fact that he was fucking Lacey Jones in the back of his pickup!"

Eddie felt his heart stop in his chest as he noticed the red scratch on your cheek, blood matted around the wound. His hand took hold of your chin, turning your cheek to him as he inspected it.

"What?" You asked irritatedly, your brows furrowed.

"What's on your cheek?" He asked, causing you to beeline towards the closest mirror in a fury, a chuckle leaving your lips as you inspected your face.

"Guess that bitch must've gotten a scratch in." You laughed.

"I think we should clean that up."

"Yeah, you don't know what kind of bacteria that wench could have had on her fake nails before I ripped them off."

Eddie made his way towards the bathroom, searching through the cabinets for some kind of antiseptic; he was sure that Wayne kept a whole collection of them with the number of scratches and wounds Eddie had come home with.

"Did you actually rip her nails off?" You heard him call out from the bathroom, letting out a laugh.

"At least two."

"Why would you even attack her? You've gotten over him already, haven't you?" He said, approaching you with a bottle of disinfectant in his hand and a roll of toilet paper in another as he motioned for you to sit down.

"I got over him a long time ago," You said, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, "But it wasn't because I liked him, or anything. It was because he betrayed me and because she felt all too happy-go-lucky that she got my sloppy seconds. You should've heard what she said."

"What did she say, then?" Eddie asked, putting some disinfectant on a piece of toilet paper and grabbing your chin softly to lift it up.

"She said that I was so pathetic. That I was a tease, who couldn't keep Aaron because I didn't want to sleep with him. That I was a boring little freak he was just leading on until he found someone he actually wanted. That he would never really love someone like me, someone who had so many issues. She was so proud of it, proud of taking him from me like he was some kind of prize. She acted like she won something."

You didn't even feel the sting of the antiseptic, nor the wetness gathering in your eyes, keeping your gaze to the ground as Eddie held onto your chin, lifting it up as he pressed the toilet paper on your cheek as softly as possible.

"She was wrong." He said quietly, a chuckle leaving your lips as you sniffled quietly, "I'm serious."

"What if she's not, though?"

Eddie scoffed, throwing the used paper into the trash can as he took hold of the bandage, "Because the moment that she's not going to be the perfect little girlfriend Aaron wants, he's just gonna go to the next one. Guys like that always do that. It doesn't have anything to do with you, and everything to do with the fact that he was an asshole who didn't deserve you. I knew that from the moment I met him, and I knew it all throughout your relationship."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then? That you knew that he didn't deserve me?" You let out a little chuckle, looking up to see your friend shaking his head slightly, "What?"

"Because I was afraid it'd seem like I was jealous." He said, pressing the bandage over the wound on your cheek.

"Why would it?"

"Because I was." He said casually.

"What?"

"We're done?"

"What do you mean done?"

"I meant your cheek." He chuckled, Eddie thinking that the puzzled look on your face made you look adorable even with the smudged mascara around your eyes. "Do you want something to eat? You should at least change into something else, I should still have some of your clothes in my closet. Or you can wear something of mine, whatever you're most comfortable in."

"Hold on," You said, pointing your finger at him, "Why were you jealous?"

"Why do you think?"

"I don't-"

"Because I like you. I liked you before you were dating that douche, while you were dating him, and after. Even when you were forcing me to watch those crappy romantic movies you secretly cried to, telling me that you'd kill me if I told anyone."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You stood up, looking into his eyes, trying to see if he was lying to you. For you, his eyes were like the mirror in Snow White. Every time, even with the simplest things, you could look into Eddie's eyes and know if he was lying to you. But as you stared intently into his brown eyes, everything inside of you was telling you that he was being truthful. "Why didn't you tell me you liked me?"

"Because I was afraid that you'd look at me the way that you're looking at me right now. Like I'm a stranger." Eddie said weakly before clearing his throat, evading your intent gaze. "We probably just have plain spaghetti, hasn't been time to buy anything else yet. Hope that's fine."

As he was turning away from you, you took hold of his wrist, the boy turning back to you with confusion, and it was now his turn to study your face.

"You're such an idiot."

But there was no time for him to look for the meaning behind your words as he was taken over by the taste of whiskey and the feeling of your cold lips on his, your wet body pressed against his warm one, blending into one as your hands tangled into his hair.

When he finally realized what was happening, he pulled you closer to his body by your waist, a definite feeling of victory inside him to finally know what it felt like to kiss you, what it felt like to tease your tongue with his. He had never felt so confident, and so inspired.

You were only supposed to give him a small kiss, but as you felt yourself being lifted up onto the dining table, your mind was in a haze from the feeling of his lips on yours, his hand on your waist feeling like they were going to burn a hole through your clothes, the heavy breaths exchanged between you covering the distant music coming from Eddie's bedroom.

As you felt his lips travel to your neck, you pressed yourself closer to him, the hungry kisses he was leaving on your neck causing you to let out a whine.

But the wordless exchange between you was interrupted by a loud clank, and as he pulled away from you, you could see that the open bottle you had left on the table you were sitting on was now knocked over, the liquid spilling everywhere.

"Shit!" You exclaimed, hopping off the table and picking it up with a laugh, looking at the puddle of whiskey that had spilt on the table, the bottle still half-full.

As you turned back to look at Eddie, both of you burst into laughter. His hands were still around your waist, and yours were still wrapped around his neck. You pressed your face to his chest, shaking your head in laughter.

"I should clean that up." He said after a while, and you looked up at him with a dazed smile, nodding at him.

"I should get changed."

"Yeah."

The dazed feeling inside of him was made worse when you got on the tip of your toes, pressing a quick kiss on his lips, a wide smile on your face as you tucked your wet hair behind your hair before turning, rushing into his bedroom.

And as he looked up at the ceiling, leaning against the table, he pressed his hand on his chest, hoping that his heart wouldn't burst out of his chest.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson angst

985 notes · View notes

puffein · 9 months

Text

BLOSSOMING SEASON | late spring [viii.]

summary: edinburgh and your hatred for the season of spring as it brought you an unexpected gift. pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader warnings: none word count: 1682 a/n: aaaa we are nearing to the end!! enjoy!

series masterlist playlist!

Edinburgh, Scotland

Early-April, 2025

The remnants of the harsh season of winter slowly dwindles down as a month passes by since spring took place rightfully in the fresh air of Edinburgh, Scotland.

Spring's sole purpose of diminishing the jarring frigid weather in the magical place you have now called home bequeathed you a sight to see. However, the season of blooming flowers left you more melancholy than the bleak freezing season of winter as it offered you the spectacle of what you called happiness.

Yet, it only gave you the view not the actual feeling of elated joy.

Unlike winter, it engulfs you wholly, like a partner with the same fate. You can be melancholy with the season of winter because it's just as sad as you are.

So, to say honestly, you have liked winter more than this current season but the lingering smell of scented flowers sent you back reeling in as the sole of your boots glided in the streets of Edinburgh.

You have decided today is a nice day to be out, to explore more in hopes of discovering something that has been hidden for you. Your mind has been preoccupied with these thoughts, thoughts of new hope, new beginnings, thoughts of moving on that you completely missed the rushing wheels of a bike.

"Watch out!" A hurried incoming voice screams right at you, snapping your eyes upwards, cursing quietly as you throw yourself beside a stall. Gratitudes spurted out of your mouth as your body collapsed on the pavement instead of the goods being placed on the stall.

Ignoring the searing pain of your body, a hand reaches out right in front of your slumped form. Looking up, you scrutinized your eyes at the figure.

"So sorry." the voice says, clutching your hands tightly while pulling you up with ease.

You huff, brushing off the dust that has situated itself on your coat. "It's fine. This is a street, not a racing track, in case you have forgotten," you murmured.

Holding the bike with one hand, the woman barks out a laugh, "Sorry, I didn't know someone would be walking aimlessly." she gazes at you, "I'm Gray, by the way."

"You rhymed that?"

The corners of her mouth twitch in an amused smile, "No, it just happened naturally. Maybe it's my talent?"

A raise of an eyebrow was enough for Gray to let out a wide grin, tilting her head at how this stranger intrigued her more than the broken pedal of her treasured bike, she should be worried more about that than the unimpressed impression you carry on your face.

"Yeah, sure. Definitely not racing down the streets," you whispered, taking fast steps away from the woman with brown hair and a very familiar green eyes.

She explicitly looks similarly like the woman you have been trying to move on from except lighter, more vibrant, and the choice of clothing she has chosen are far opposite from the ones you are familiar with. Meeting someone in spring that looks crazily alike to the person you have left at home has given you another reason to hate the current season. You decided to ignore her, moving away in haste steps, Gray has other plans though.

"Hey!" she shouts followed by murmurs of profanities under her breath as she drags her broken bike to catch up to your retreating form. "I have to treat you or something. Your palms are scratched, I'll be feeling too guilty letting you walk away."

"It's fine. It was my fault anyway for walking aimlessly," you argued, not wanting to be in her space longer than she has been.

You walk briskly, eyes scanning for any approaching vehicle, you take the chance of escaping by jogging to the other side of the street, leaving a slumped green-eyed woman with her broken bike.

Your figure disappears in the eyes of Gray as you rounded up a corner. She bit her cheeks too hard for missing an opportunity to experience a cliché meet-cute romance with a cute dismissive woman. She didn't even get to hear your name. In a disappointed slumping of her shoulders, Gray forces herself to move away, praying hard for fate to work its magic to meet you once again.

After minutes of leisurely walking in the waking streets of Edinburgh, you have posted yourself in a quiet café tucked in between a bookstore and a closed flower shop. Bells chimed softly as you pushed the door open, the inviting aroma of coffee made you instantly melt.

Ordering your usual coffee from a stuttering young boy behind the counter, you placed a generous amount of tip in the empty jar as you drag yourself into the corner of the café.

Tinkering with the sudden ringing of your phone, you straightened up to answer. "Hey, is everything all right?"

"I– I know it's really early there, I'm kind of surprised you answered but something happened and I just–" Natasha's frantic voice resonates in the ringing of your ears.

Worry coils in the pit of your stomach, Natasha never called this early. With the five hours difference between New Jersey and Edinburgh, if you calculate correctly, it's two am in the morning for Natasha whilst you are enjoying a cup of coffee in the early morning of seven am.

"Hey, hey. Breathe, please. What happened, did something happen?" you ask softly, your tone fighting between being calm to being frantic just like Natasha.

Natasha barks out a sudden laugh on the other line, your brows furrowed while her words become blurry all of a sudden, a chopping of sentences reaches your ears as you try to make out the cutting words of her voice.

"I can't hear you very well. Just a minute, Nat. I'll find a good signal." Pressing your phone tightly on your ears, your other hand busies itself with finding your wallet.

Cupping every pocket your coat has, you cursed another word. Eyes busy with looking for your wallet and feet busy with letting you out of a café which has a poor signal, your shoulders bump hard into soft ones.

Muttering an apology, you look up to find yourself frowning at the sight of brown hair and green eyes, "Gray, are you following me?" your voice fills with annoyance.

You look down at your phone to see that the call with Nat has ended, irritation pervades your whole being. Everything seems to be in disarray ever since you have decided to take time for yourself, your coffee was not even nearly half finished, the scratched palms you have appears to be throbbing, and now the woman who has caused you physical pain by plummeting her bike right at you stumbled upon the very café you ran off to.

"I'm not Gray." A quiet voice murmurs, your eyes stilled right at your phone, afraid to look up to someone you are very familiar with.

Time seems to be irrelevant at this moment, as your chest heaves in heavily like a small boat being yanked deep into the ocean with an anchor so leaden and massive. You feel suffocated, a drowning mess with limbs flailing all over the wide crashing currents of water.

Your eyes finally snap upwards, how did you not notice the different clothing?

Head whipping slightly to the side to finally look at her, "Then who are you?" you ask a question you know the answer to.

Her face morphs into a painful expression, she opens her mouth but no sound comes out as you push yourself forward, shoulder bumping painfully right at hers, your feet moving like an automatic robot, pulling you away from a situation you clearly were not ready to face.

"Y/N, wait!" her voice staggers, and she reaches out to your fleeing tensed figure. Soft hands clutches onto your wrist, you yank it instantly.

You turn your body to face her, "What, why are you here?"

Her chest heaves a motion of up and down like she just ran a marathon to catch you, "You don't get to do that."

"Get to do what, Wanda?" you asked exasperatedly.

Two years. The world gave you two years of liberty to unshackle yourself away from her tight chains and yet, it was not enough to free yourself from the cage you have put yourself into. And here she was, in her glowing glory, finally got the opportunity for her questions to be answered.

Fate has been very cruel, cornering you to something you have not thought of. You shouldn't be projecting your anger at her, it was unfair. But, everything has been unfair to Wanda, hasn't it? So, what is the difference if you have given her one more of it?

So, you glowered at her. Gave her the face painted with hatred when deep inside the depths of your soul, it was hatred for yourself. A hatred for not moving on despite the years of being away from her and for making it so difficult that up until the unplanned reunion, you still have lingering feelings for your best friend.

Wanda stood still, her lips trembling so slightly. She looks like a lost puppy in a world full of big dogs and that made you cower with your stance. "I just want to talk." She whispers, afraid that her tone might make you burst into something she cannot contain.

"I did not follow you, Y/N. I swear, I– I was supposed to call your office for an appointment, scheduled it properly, and appropriately talk to you. I didn't know you were in the café." she explains further, her natural colored eyes pleading with you.

A lump formed in your throat, you made the only move you could make, nodding. Eyes darted everywhere rather than letting them rest onto her face like how she's been doing for the past minutes. Wide green eyes gazing at you, sight focused right at you like a woman in a dream-like state.

And clasping at the last ounce of courage you have left, you muttered the words, "You want to talk?"

general masterlist ◄ ►

—୧ taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @sokovianbaby @vivs46 @kyaraderuwez

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda angst #wanda x you #wanda maximov #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff marvel #wanda maximoff mcu

170 notes · View notes

muddyorbsblr · 4 months

Text

relinquish the crown: what could be done

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: Season 1, Episode 13; moments after 'plans & protestations'

Summary: Loki and Frigga look for a way to prevent you from being married off to the Prince of Alfheim

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: themes of incest (he's adopted but still); Prince Damien (yes he's a warning)

Things to be aware of: sad Reader hours; stressed Loki hours

Queen Frigga paced back and forth throughout her workroom, perturbed at the information that Loki had just relayed to her. Royal Child Bearer? The nerve of that insolent inexperienced child of a prince.

She should have nipped this visit at the bud the moment she held the letter from the Royal Court of Alfheim in her hands. Seen the unease with which the palace staff looked upon him whenever she witnessed him crossing paths with one of them. Or now overtly guarded and secretive so many of them had become when she would try to ask them if the visitors were treating them well.

Perhaps she could have even prevented the visit from happening altogether had she spoken to her husband about it rather than entrusted that the future she'd seen of you and Loki being happily married to one another would prevail regardless of hindrances in the form of seedy visiting princes and memory spells. She had no indication to tell her that so many obstacles would have stood in the way of your happiness.

"We must do something, Mother," Loki pleaded, tears filling his eyes even at the mere thought of you leaving Asgard to become that repugnant prince's wife. "I must do something. I cannot simply stand idly by and watch as this insipid excuse for a prince courts her and gains Father's approval. Watch as Y/N's wish to marry for love is taken away from her and she is forced to wed a man that will not treasure her, swear his fealty to her, the way that she deserves. And all in the name of fortifying alliances with the insurgent realm of Alfheim. Even if I do not become her husband and your vision ultimately proves false, all that matters is that she does not enter a marriage where she is used. Unappreciated. Unloved. I cannot bear to see her unloved."

"Let me think, my boy," Frigga said, doing her best to calm her son as his thoughts began to spiral picturing the bleak marriage you would have to the elven prince. And rightfully so, those images were nearly enough to make her send the visiting party home. Invoke her power and authority as Allmother in the name of doing what was best for her granddaughter and for Asgard as a whole. "I have faith that she would be capable of thwarting his attempts in the short term--"

"But what of the long term, Mother?" Loki stood from the armchair he'd slumped into minutes earlier, nearly pacing a hole into the floor from his visible anxiety. "Father seems to be determined to stave off the insurgence that the Royal Family of Alfheim has been rumored to be organizing, and an alliance between our families might just be the compromise he seeks. What if he is willing to disregard Y/N's wishes to accomplish that?"

Frigga resumed her pacing as well, a deep worry taking place in her that the peace she'd seen in her vision of your future was farther off than she'd initially thought. That the contentment and joy meant for you and Loki would serve as the end of the fight of your life. "I will do what I can do postpone any decisions of your Father that would lead to Y/N's hand being forced into this marriage. Meanwhile you, my boy, will do what you can to keep her time occupied. The less time she is around this lecherous disgrace of a prince, the better for her sanity. And yours."

"Postpone," he whined, shaking his head as he were shaking off the short-sighted intention. "We need to stop these efforts entirely--"

"And we will," the queen insisted, pulling her son into her arms. "You give me the next few days, I will find a way for us to stop this fraudulent courtship completely. I swear to you, Loki, on my life. She will not be subjected to a life unloved. She will not be relegated to a stepping stone for this urchin of a prince to ascend to the role of Allfather."

The days following Loki's panicked consultation with his mother were spent on high alert, the god's behavior dangerously leaning toward petulant as he did what he could to prevent you from spending time with the elven prince short of flat out refusing to conclude his time with you. Thankfully you seemed to be more than willing to let the behavior slide as you preferred his company rather than Prince Damien's, and you would even offer up your own thinly veiled excuses if only to lessen your time with the boy of a prince that was all too forgetful of decorum and insisted on touching you with an air of familiarity that he had not earned. And likely never would.

Today was no different, the god sequestering you in the corner of the library that you'd settled into sharing. You were all too gleefully working on the plans for the ball that would culminate the Yule festival, deciding on what would serve as the night's main event.

Meanwhile, his mother Queen Frigga had given him a specific task in their mission to thwart the courtship efforts of the crown prince of Alfheim. He was to look into the customs and traditions that would be expected of a member of the royal family of Asgard if they were to marry. The objective was to make you privy to their intentions once they had found something that could keep you in Asgard, and the three of you could put your minds together into negotiating your way out of the courtship.

Unfortunately all that he could find so far was that the only way to make a clean break from Prince Damien's efforts to marry you was to have it expressly declared by the Allfather that the courtship was concluded and any and all efforts from the Prince would no longer be welcome. And bringing Odin to this decision would take a great deal of convincing. He would have to be offered something much more irresistible than fortifying alliances between Realms and indefinitely hindering the threat of an insurgence.

No one held such ammunition. To Loki's knowledge at least. He could only hope that his mother was more fruitful in her searches.

"Would you be willing to participate in an auction?" you asked, sitting up from your slouched position from earlier while you were penning down your thoughts on various parchments. When you started to clench and unclench your fingers, Loki took your hand in his, massaging your skin in small circles, causing you to let out a satisfied sigh as you relaxed into the cushion. He had to fight back the salacious thoughts that began to infiltrate his mind, thinking of more pleasurable ways to elicit those sounds from you.

"It depends on what exactly would be up for auction, darling," he answered, pressing a fleeting kiss to your knuckles when your hand had fully relaxed in his hold.

"A night's worth of dances." You rested your head on his shoulder, your eyelids drooping when he began to stroke your hair and you fully allowed yourself to take a few breaths and relax. At least until your ever irksome suitor would burst through the doors and announce that it was time for your daily walk around the palace.

And you would have to don your collar piece that the god knew must be warmer than was necessary. All for the sake of shielding your body somehow from Damien's wandering hands.

"If it means keeping you safe from a certain elven Prince with wandering eyes and hands, I would gladly outbid--"

"No no, Loki, you misunderstand," you cut him off with a slight giggle. "The men would be up on the stage, I was asking if you would be willing to auction off your dances for the ball."

"I see," he mused, making a point to turn to a random different page on the book he was reading through to keep you from discovering what he and his mother may be up to. "If it aids in the success of the ball, then…I would be happy to."

His heart beat violently in his chest as you squealed and turned to throw your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you!" You excitedly left his embrace, his arms now feeling hauntingly empty without you in them, and wrote his name down on the parchment. "At least I know I would be having a good bit of fun before I get shackled down and shipped off to Alfheim to do little more than sit still and look pretty," you sighed, placing your pen down on the table before slumping back into the cushion.

"Darling, if you do not wish to marry this prince, you are very much within your rights to refuse his proposal. I see how you are whenever you have to return to his company, you need not endure this attentions if you do not feel that he would be good for you," Loki attempted to console you, taking your hands in his once more, his heart fracturing at how rife with tension they were again.

"I couldn't," you argued, the furrow between your brows making an appearance as your mouth formed into a pout. "Grandfather would force my hand, tell me that this is what's good for the realm as a whole. Spew some drivel about how sometimes great leaders must make personal sacrifices for the good of their people." A tear began to roll down your cheek at the mere thought, trying to blink them away as you refocused your attention instead on the book laid open in front of him. "Loki? Why are you reading up on Asgardian bedding rituals?"

He wanted to slap himself at the section he turned to. "The information might come useful one day," he tried to wave your queries away.

"You intend to court someone?" A playful look entered your eyes before you put your hand to your temples once more, another migraine pounding away at your head.

"Norns no," he hissed almost instinctively. The only one I would ever wish to court is beyond my reach, he lamented internally, replacing your hand with his and trying to soothe you by massaging away at your temples in slow circles. He decided the best course of action was to offer you a sliver of the truth. "I'm looking into royal Asgardian marriage traditions, trying to find a way to keep you from leaving the realm if it ever comes to that."

"I will need to be dragged to the altar kicking and screaming if the Allfather forces my hand. This prince does not love me, Loki. He loves the throne that would be promised him if he were to marry me. I'd like to believe that I am worth more than a throne." The sullen tone your voice had taken on tore at his heart, making him unable to resist the urge to pull you into his arms once more in an attempt to soothe you.

"You are, Little Princess. Any fool that fails to see that does not deserve you." No one in these Realms could ever love you as I do, he thought inwardly. I would have cherished and spoiled you if I were your husband. You would have wanted for nothing.

Before either of you could say another word, the doors to the library flew open, revealing his mother on the other side, an excitement in her expression as her gaze roamed the area before landing on the two of you. A soft smile graced her features finding you resting comfortably in your fated's arms.

"My son, I may have found something. Come with me." She jerked her head in the direction of her workroom before turning her gaze to address you. "Granddaughter, a certain elven prince is bounding his way down the halls to steal you away from your present company." You let out an unrestrained chortle at the face the Queen made after her statement, clearly disapproving of Damien herself. "How goes the planning for the Yule festival?"

"Progressing quite nicely, Grandmother," you responded, removing yourself from Loki's embrace and putting away your parchments, gathering everything into a satchel before standing upright. "The culminating ball will make for quite the night, if everything goes according to plan. We are to have an auction. Proceeds will go into funding for new weapons for soldiers old and new alike."

He stood from his seat, taking out the collar piece from inside your satchel bag and helping you into the garment. Your eyes had a bleakness in them as he framed your face in his hands, placing a light kiss to your forehead. He slipped his dagger into your bag, whispering a rather mischievous offer against your skin. "If he behaves in a way that renders you uncomfortable, you could always use that on him and say it was me if you are questioned. Stay safe, Little Princess. I love you."

You briefly wrapped your arms around him before muttering back, "I love you, too." You took a step back, mustering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "How do I look?"

"Your smile could convince just about any audience, perhaps in another life you were made for the stage," he quipped, briefly touching his hand to your chin. "You can't quite fool me, however."

"Of course I can't." You scrunched your nose at him. "You know me far too well, Loki." You smoothed your hands over your dress and turned to face the door, squaring your shoulders ever so slightly, as if preparing to assume a warrior's stance. When Loki turned his gaze to the door he could see exactly why; the Prince was already waiting for you a few feet away from the Queen, jaw visibly tense.

And because of the god's enhanced senses from his Jotun blood, he could hear the impudent prince grinding away at his teeth. No doubt brought on from seeing that once again you were spending time with someone that he deemed 'competition' for your hand.

The elven prince offered his arm to you once enough distance had been closed, the muscles in his face tensing even worse when you maintained your stance, leaving his arm empty. He opted instead to place a hand at your lower back, holding on to you a touch too tight that it caused you to visibly tense and flinch when his fingers dug into your side.

Loki hadn't even realized he was about to approach you to offer his aid somehow until he felt his mother grab hold of his elbow with a firm yet gentle hand. "If we wish to help her completely, then we must have faith she can hold her own in this moment. Soon enough she will be free of his advances." She gave him a gentle tug in the opposite direction. "We must go now, my boy. You will have much to think about once I tell you what I have found."

He took one final glance back at you, your fist clenched behind your back as Damien walked you farther and farther away from him, and he attempted to reach out to you with his mind. Hoping you would hear his sentiment. "If he ever hurts you, little princess, you call for me. Call for me and I will be there for you in a heartbeat."

Once they'd made their way to Frigga's workroom, he could no longer hold in his words, blurting out his question with little control over the volume of his voice. Or his frantic tone.

"What have you found, Mother? Tell me how we can save Y/N from--"

"You could marry her instead." His eyes widened to the size of saucers at how she chose to lead with her findings, eyeing his mother with thinly-veiled incredulity. "I have combed through every possible scenario that held even a sliver of a chance to get Odin to repudiate his intention to strengthen the alliance between Asgard and Alfheim, and in my search I chanced upon your reports. From your mission that kept you away from us for nearly a millennium."

"My reports?" he parroted lamely. "But those merely stated that the people of the Nine held less faith in our house's power to rule, what help could that offer us in this predicament?"

"If Odin seeks to arrange a marriage for Y/N that will fortify her claim to the throne, then perhaps the only way is to offer him something that would yield a stronger claim," she offered, walking towards her son when he slumped down into his usual armchair and grasping his hands in hers. "If you use your reports to reason with him that this marriage will be more beneficial to the realm than a union with Prince Damien, we can save her from this sham of a marriage he intends for her."

"Father will not so simply agree to this, Mother," the god argued, his mind already firing off scenario after scenario wherein Odin would reject this proposal outright. He'd fought so ardently to ensure that all generations of the royal family that succeeded him would no longer have to adhere to the archaic traditions, and now here he and his mother were, looking for a way to return them somehow. "For him to agree to a negotiation like this, I would need to offer him something in return."

"And what would you have to offer that could hold a similar value to a quelling of an imminent insurgence, my boy?"

Loki ran through everything he could potentially offer for your hand, searching frantically for something that symbolized a significant enough loss on his part that perhaps it would satisfy the Allfather. Nothing of monetary value would suffice, and he would never wish to make it seem from any potential angle that he was buying your freedom.

He held no title other than God of Mischief; he was no crown prince, he had no clear path to the throne. At least until his impending duel with Thor, assuming that the most unlikely of scenarios would occur and he would win over his larger, stronger warrior of a brother.

And then it hit him.

"My claim to the throne," he sighed, feeling a sliver of hope that perhaps this might actually work. "I could surrender my claim as Odin's heir. Cancel the duel between me and Thor so that we may never have to shed the other's blood on the battlefield." He looked to his mother, a calm smile gracing her features as she let her pride shine through. "You already came to this conclusion, haven't you, Mother?"

She walked over to her desk, signaling for her son to follow so that she may show him the parchments in which she penned down her findings. There were the words, by her own hand. Loki's surrender in exchange for Y/N's hand. "I needed you to come to the decision yourself, my son," she explained to him. "Surrendering your chance at becoming crown prince is something you cannot take back. Something that thwarts any ambition you may have to become Allfather yourself."

"What value would a throne have for me if I won that duel?" he spat out, hot tears stinging his eyes as he picture what his life would be like. "My brother would be dead by my hand, Asgard's people carrying a burning hatred for me for slaying their beloved prince. Y/N would hate me for taking her father away from her. And my heart would forever be burdened with guilt for Thor's death, and the crippling knowledge that the woman I love is living a bleak life married to someone who views her as little more than a plaything he could discard and betray time and time again. She is worth more to me than a chance at the throne."

He felt his resolve strengthening with every passing moment, already crafting the words he would use from the moment he announced his surrender to his negotiations to become your husband. He knew the words to utter and when; this was his domain, his words a weapon he wielded with the same mastery as he did his magic and his daggers.

But there was one simple fact that weighed heavy on his heart. He was about to lay out his heart on the table for everyone to know. Including you.

And you…you didn't return these affections. You never had. And you realizing his true feelings toward you would ruin your image of him forever, tainting every single memory you two shared.

"She would despise me," he choked out, clenching his fists shut as his eyes filled with tears. "She will know how I have loved her since the beginning and she will loathe me."

"But she will be safe," Frigga insisted, reaching for her son's hand again. "She will be safe and she will remain here in Asgard. With a husband that loves her, that will not shackle her to such a base and primitive purpose." She seemed as if she were about to say more, but decided against it, pursing her lips instead. "Remember what I told you before, Loki. You two are fated. Marriage was always in your future, I just…" She let out a deep sigh. "I just never imagined that this was how we would arrive at this point."

Tears began to fall from his eyes, already bracing himself to burden your hatred of him for what he was about to do. The life he was about to choose for you. "If having her hate me for the rest of our days is the price I must pay to keep her safe from a wretch like that Prince Damien, then so be it."

With those words he strode out of the Queen's workroom. And as soon as he left, Queen Frigga scrambled through every grimoire in her possession, looking for a way to lift the spell that veiled your memories herself.

Loki blazed down the halls of the palace, looking for his brother and his father, finally finding them in deep discussion in one of the war rooms. His loud bursting into the room caused both men to jump slightly at the sound.

"Ah, Brother, perfect timing," Thor addressed him, a grim tone in his voice as he motioned for him to take a seat. "Father has decided that it is time for us to discuss the ceremony that shall appoint his heir."

"There's no need for that anymore, Brother." He made his way to the seat across from the blond god, doing his best to remain the picture of calm and collected. In truth he was a mixed bag of emotions, each so strong that he could feel himself being pulled in vastly different directions and if he failed to control himself it would tear him into pieces from the inside out.

"And why is there no longer a need for this discussion, Loki?" Odin prodded, back ramrod straight in anticipation for what might come next.

"Because I relinquish my claim to the throne of Asgard."

A/N: Besties omg omg omg we are heeeeeeeere 😳👀 When I tell you I got literal chills writing that last line holy fuckque things are gonna be changing from here on, we're finally in the events of the 6k word shoulda been a drabble piece that I wrote over a year ago and Reader's attitude toward Loki is about to be hugely different 🥺

Only two more chapters until Season 1 is finished and then we're heading off into the angst-fest that is Season 2 😳

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki odinson x reader #relinquish the crown #muddyorbs writes

136 notes · View notes

mytheoristavenue · 6 months

Text

OP Usopp x Reader - Little Talks

This is a belated birthday gift to my dear friend, @usopps-devotee. Happy birthday Kush, I'm sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you like it!

Summary: You just wish Usopp would let you sleep.

Warning: angst, major character death, platonic!brook x reader, immortal!reader, sad, tragic!romantic!usopp x reader, survivor's guilt, death wish, clairvoyant!reader

The ship rocked feebly as the waves controlled its hull, the dingy, cartoonish lion figurehead cutting through the thick mist. You leaned against the rail, looking out to the bleak sea with somber eyes, searching for any ray of sunshine, only to find drab clouds staring back. "Come back from the railing, my dear," a calm and pitying voice called from a good distance behind. "You'll catch cold in this weather."

"I wish," you retorted coldly. "Maybe I'd get sick enough to-"

"(Y/N), please,"

You sighed, pushing away from the railing and turning to face the only companion you had. "I'm sorry, Brook. I'm just..." you trailed off, unsure what you'd intended to say.

"Lonely, I know." he soothed, pulling you into his slender and uncomforting arms. "Immortality is the loneliest privilege one can have."

"I'm not lonely," you corrected, glancing up into his void sockets. "I'm surrounded by people, but I still miss them."

His bones shifted as if to convey surprise as he withdrew slightly. "You're seeing things again?"

Your eyes widened as you violently pushed away from him, fists clenched with sudden anger. "Brook! I already told you, I'm not seeing shit! They're there!"

The man stepped back a bit, taken by your short fuse as he raised his hands defensively to disarm you. "Now, now, I didn't mean to offend you, my dear. Let's just have a cup of tea and-"

"No, Brook!" you shouted, seething, feeling unseen eyes trained on you. "Why can't you see them too, why don't you believe me?!" Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you stared at the musician desperately, eyes occasionally darting around the ship to your other crew mates.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I-" he sputtered, hurt and unnerved by your outburst, which had begun to become a more frequent occurrence. "I wish I could see what you see-"

Unable to stand another second of Brook's excuses, you stormed off, sprinting down the rickety stairs and disappearing into the lower decks. Crossing over the threshold into the dining room, you froze in place, seeing a tall blonde man with his back to you, cigarette smoke lazily floating in the air. There was a light glow around him that you desperately tried to ignore. The chef, seemed to take notice of you as he turned around to get something, giving you a gentle smile. "(Y/N), hi."

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered his name, crumpling as you ran to him, needing a hug now more than ever. "S-Sanji!"

"Woah there!" he laughed, smoke billowing over his luminescent teeth. "You look pale, how 'bout I fix you something to eat?"

"Yes, please! Just stay here with me!" you sobbed, stuck to his chest like a wet shirt. "Please don't go away..." You could feel his fingers ghosting over the back of your head, as he shushed you, thinking up what snack to prepare you. You become so soothed by his comfort that you hardly even noticed that he'd stopped petting your hair.

Glancing up, you found yourself totally alone, dumbfounded, and glancing around for any sign that your interaction with Sanji had been real. It had to have been; smoke still hung in the air, and the kitchen smelled distinctly of tobacco, garlic, and expensive French cologne.

"Come back, godddamnit!" you screamed, folding to the floorboards, weeping in an ugly way. Your fist hit the wood as you spilt your woes to an empty ship, only silenced by cloven footsteps.

You didn't even see him, at first, but you could hear him getting closer, feel the frigidness in the kitchen giving way to a hospitable warmth. Suddenly, the presence spoke.

"You better get up off the floor, (Y/N)," the voice was echoey and childlike, and filled with true concern. "You're gonna get all dirty and covered with germs!"

You couldn't even force your vocal cords to make a sound, but you still silently called out to him with arms outstretched. "Oh, Chopper..." you cried, pulling the plush boy close, tears wetting his furry shoulder. "I miss you so much..."

"Miss me?" he asked, befuddled. "I'm right here! We've been out to sea for weeks, I couldn't have possibly gone anywhere!" His cheery tone did nothing for you, only reminded you of the aching truth, and what you had to do to hide it from him.

"I'm sorry, Chopper, I misspoke. I just mean that I've been feeling down and in need of a hug from you. I haven't seen you since breakfast, and I was starting-" you bit back a sob before finishing. "To miss you."

"Oh," the doctor responded, a bit confused by your sudden clinginess. "Well, if that's all-!" The reindeer leaned forward, giving you what should have been a very warm hug, and a peck on the cheek. "I'll give you a kiss too, to speed up your healing! I hope your day gets better!"

Silently, you stood, having no more tears left to shed, and walked past the silver figure. "Thank you, Chopper, you truly were-" you paused for a moment, not even daring to look back to see if he was even still present. "Are- the best doctor on the Grand Line."

-----

Aimlessly, you wandered through the Sunny, passing many crewmates on the way to your room. You passed Zoro, napping on the floor with his back against a wall, and Robin sharing her thoughts on the novel she'd been reading with Frankie in the lounge. They both smiled and waved at you, but you ignored them, spying on them from around the corner. You admired how they both had smiles that lit up a room, and the way that they looked at one another when the other laughed. You used to look at Usopp that way. Now you only wished he'd go away.

Rounding the corner to the dormitories, you ran into Nami, nose buried in a map and ranting to Luffy that he'd steered the ship in the wrong direction. You stood there, stunned as you stared at them.

"(Y/N), look at this, tell him we're going the wrong way, because he won't listen to me!" the ginger raved, shoving a glowing piece of parchment into your face.

"Now listen, it's not about the destination, it's the journey!" the captain argued optimistically. "It'll be fine, (Y/N), tell her!" You simply kept quiet, tearing up with lip trembling. "Hey, what's with you?"

Finally breaking back down, you blew past them, knocking them to the side as you darted to your bedroom. The one you'd shared with your boyfriend. With Usopp.

The moment you crossed the threshold, you winced, recognizing that familiar bite of cold that came with being in a confined space with one of your nakama. In the corner was a small, cluttered desk you'd never been able to bring yourself to clear. It was illuminated by the amber glow of an oil lamp that you'd desperately kept fed, lest the flame extinguish. None of those things bothered you as much as the man sitting at the desk, though.

Once lovely ochre skin had now a tinge of translucent blue, and soft puffs of onyx coils were now little than plumes of white smoke that lacked the substance to even hold together the ends. The worst, however, were his eyes, still shiny and dark and sparkling at the sight of you. Gazing into his eyes, the only original part of him left sent chills up your spine as he turned away from his work to greet you.

"Hey, cutie, headin' to bed already?" he smiled warmly. "It's only six thirty-five." Glancing at the clock confirmed your suspicions. Usopp was wrong, it was nearly four in the morning.

"Just tired." you mumbled halfheartedly. "Mind going to your workshop 'til you get tired? I'd like to be alone to sleep."

"Nonsense, baby!" he dismissed cheerily. "I've been missing you lately, how about I snuggle up with you and we can watch a movie or somethin'?" Without a second thought, he stood, kicking out of his shoes and sliding one of his overall straps down.

"N-no," you protested weakly, tears beginning to prick your eyes. "I-I really just want to be alone, Usopp." You rolled over, back to him and huffed.

"Well..." he began. "Did I do something to make you mad? I'm sorry, whatever it is, just tell me and we can-"

"Usopp, just go away!" you sobbed, the dam finally breaking and unable to contain your grief any longer. "You're dead, don't you get that?! I need you to go, I can't handle seeing you like this!" You continued to berate him, weeping and tugging at your hair for any feeling of control. "And it's not six thirty, and it's not May 12th. It's three fifty-seven in the morning on November 17th. It's been over six months, please just-!"

Throwing yourself back towards him, you opened your glossy and aching eyes to find yourself without company and in the dark. The desk was still messy, sure, and the chair pulled out, but the oil lamp was snuffed out, a light billow of smoke floating above it before disappearing entirely. You'd gotten your wish. Usopp was gone.

But at what cost?

"You're gone, gone, gone away. I watched you disappear. All that's left is the ghost of you. Now we're torn, torn, torn apart, there's nothing we can do. Just let me go, we'll meet again soon."

#one piece #x reader #one piece usopp #one piece brook #one peice #one piece x reader #usopp x reader #god usopp #god usopp x reader #op x reader #usopp angst #usopp x reader angst #straw hat pirates #cat burglar nami #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji

68 notes · View notes

beautouslysandy · 11 months

Text

blood before sunrise

dallas winston x gn!reader

by-sandy

word count- 988

warnings- angst, language, kinda gory, not proofread and lowercase intended

a/n 💌- this came to me in a dream last night and had to put it to life! this makes me cry. enjoy!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• the blood was dripping faster every second, you couldn’t go any faster. dallas had been shot and you were speeding down the road to the nearest hospital.

“your going to get us both killed, doll.” dallas said with a groan and a cough that was full of blood

“better than just you dying.” you said, you were furious he was fooling around and look what happened. but more than that you were freaking out, you couldn’t loose him. he is all you had left.

finally arriving at the hospital, you got out faster than light. opening the passenger door, you got him out his arm over your shoulder. him putting all his weight on you, giving him support.

“i am so sorry, doll.” he said, giving you a bloody kiss on the cheek.

“it’s okay, let’s just get you fixed up.” you said entering the hospital, the nurse immediately noticing you and taking dallas into custody.

”i love you, your gonna be okay.” you say not only trying to comfort him but yourself as well

“i love you too. i will be back, doll.” he said getting taken away by a few nurses. “stay here, ma’am.” a nurse said before heading in with the rest, behind those doors only authorized staff are allowed behind

all you could do was nod, looking down at you clothes they were covered in blood splotches from dallas's wounds. you went to the restrooms to try your best to clean up.

soon enough your face was cleaned of blood, pushing your sweaty hair off your face you headed to the nearest phone and entered in the curtis’ house phone number.

“hello?” a familiar husky voice answered

“darry? it’s me, y/n. dallas is in the hospital, he got shot.” you said, you began to hyperventilate at the words that came out of your mouth

“oh shit. we will be there. the town one, right?” he asked, you heard the worry in his voice

“yeah…” you said finally looking around the bleak hospital that provided no comfrot

“listen. he is gonna be alright, he is dallas winston.” darry said comforting you

“yeah, just worried.”

“there is nothing to worry about, he will be okay. see you soon, bye.”

“bye.”

you hung up the phone and placed it on the stand. heading to a chair, that was falsely advertised, it looked comfortable but it was the exact opposite.

you couldn’t do anything but stare at those doors. you were shaking, you needed him to be okay. why did he have to scare you like this.

“y/n?” a voice called, you turned to see all the boys.

“hey.” you said with a sniffle, you feel like crying your eyes out. you walk to them and they start asking what happened.

“doll go back inside!” dallas yelled, you we’re coming out of bucks when your boyfriend yelled that to you. soon yours eyes land on a group of socs, the one in the middle was holding a gun.

“dallas! no!” that was all you could get out before the shot was fired, you heard the thump of his body hitting the ground.

you ran to him faster than ever, holding him asking him questions to keep him awake.

“just get me to a hospital doll and everything will be alright.” he said with a groan

you did as he said, trying your best not to cause him any pain.

”damn socs.” steve said with an angry tone

“excuse me.” a squeaky voice said.

you all turned to see a small and piette female nurse.

“hi, i am looking for who came with dallas winston?” “me.” you said eager to know how he was doing

“i am so sorry, we did everything we could.” the nurse said with a sad smile.

everything stopped, everything. you started crying but you couldn’t feel it. you couldn’t feel anything. your world crumbled around you, only hearing the occasional muffling voices. you were saying something but you couldn’t even comprehend it. your own words and you had no clue what you were saying.

he was gone, this isn’t fair. he said he would be alright. he said he would be right back. “no. no. no.” you said shaking your said, those were the only words you could say between your hot tears.

“he said- he said.” you said starting to hyperventilate

“he can’t be gone. you have to be mistaken. he is my dallas, he isn’t gone. he isn’t.” you said wiping your tears now glaring at the nurse

“i am sorry but…he is. would you like his things?” the nurse said, she looked at darry

“liar. you…you’re lying.” you continued, bawling

“y/n…” darry said looking at you then the nurse “they would like his things, thank you.”

“she is lying, tell her darry. please, he said he would be alright. he said-“ you went on, as darry held you.

the nurse returned with dallas’s things in a hospital bag making you cry even harder. ponyboy looked through it finding his st. christopher necklace and handing it to darry so he could put it on you.

“thank you.” you said sniffling, playing with the necklace, taking the bag from ponyboy. “can i see him? please.” you asked the nurse

“of course, right this way.” she said leading you and the group to a hospital room

there he was, lying on the hospital bed. motionless. un-dallas like.

you started bawling, again. running to his body and hugging it. “why did you leave me, you ass. why? we had our whole life’s planned. why?” you said, the kissing his lips for the very last time. an hour later, darry had to pull you away. he insisted on you staying at the curtis house and that he would pick your car up later. the drive there was miserable. you felt emotionless, he is gone. the love of your life is gone. you have no one.

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders imagine #safe haven #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #the outsiders dallas #dallas winston angst #the outsiders dally

195 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 5 months

Text

I Close My Eyes and I Slip Away(Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader)

warnings: major spoilers, mentions of death, angst, mentions of suicide, alcohol and drugs, very sad, lots of emotions, reader is Yuji's adoptive mother and Kento's wife, not for the faint of heart, dark themes word count: 1.9k pairings: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader, Fem!Reader & Yuji Itadori(adoptive mother and son/platonic) summary: you wonder how you'll go on after you lost your childhood sweetheart in the Shibuya Incident. the darkness comes to consume you. a/n: this is pretty dark content, so if you aren't feeling very stable right now, maybe skip out on this one. remember, you are truly loved and matter so much

The kitchen is bleak and cold as you enter. You’re wearing the same pajamas you have been for the last few days…or has it been weeks. Everything has been just such a blur since you lost the love of your life. You know you should try to take care of yourself, but it feels impossible to regain any normality in your life anymore. Days just go by like nothing as you drift from the kitchen to the bathroom to the bed and just spend time mourning the one you loved the most.

As you sit at the kitchen table, you clasp your mug of coffee with both hands. You try to at least do the bare minimum to take care of yourself. It’s not much, but the coffee does give you warmth. A tear slides down your cheek and lands into your coffee.

‘This is how Kento used to take his coffee. Just black, no creamer and no sugar.’

You blow on the hot liquid, and then you take a small sip. The clock on the wall ticks by the seconds of this solemn morning. You look out the window, unsure of what else to do with yourself today. You want to reach out to someone, but the darkness has captured you completely and will not let you go. Even if you managed to find the courage to reach out to someone, it wouldn’t matter. You didn’t really want to go on. You were just waiting for the sweet embrace of death either way you looked at it.

Just then, there is a knock on the door. It pulls you out of your morbid thoughts, and for a moment, you hesitate to answer. The voice of the young man you’ve come to think of as your son is what gets you to get up and unlock the door. His eyes widen in concern when he sees the state you’re in.

“Oh mom…” he whispers softly, pulling you in tightly for a hug. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m so sorry.”

You shudder at his words, “S’okay, Yuji. I’m so happy to see you.”

When he pulls away, he wipes the tears from your cheeks. He leads you back inside and sits you down at the kitchen table. He can see the mess has really started to pile up in here. Yuji figures he can help you out now. He’s come to consider you his mother, and with his adoptive father gone, Yuji knows he needs to step up and take good care of you since his father no longer can.

“Let me make you breakfast,”

You nod your head and take a few more sips of your coffee. Yuji talks about the things he’s had to take care of at the school since his father’s passing. A lot of responsibility has fallen onto his shoulders. You worry about Yuji, considering how young he is and how much he’s had to go through since he first joined the sorcerer’s world. You always wished that you could have a family with Kento, and Yuji had been the answer to that wish. Now it feels like you have been fragmented.

“Here, eat up.” Yuji says as he places the omelet in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and smell of real food.

He sits in front of you and enjoys his own food. The two of you talk about maybe what you’ll do now that Kento is dead. Yuji knows he’s going to have to keep an eye on you. Despite everything, you may try to join Kento in death. Yuji isn’t ready to lose the both of you. You’re just in a fragile state. He knows you need all the warmth right now.

After you’re both done eating, Yuji suggests doing some chores for you while you take a shower. Just the thought of him doing this for you brings tears to your eyes. He gives you another tight hug and gets right to sorting your laundry. You make your way into the bathroom.

The hot water cascades down your body. It’s so hot that it almost burns, but it feels good in a way. It’s reminding you of all the wonderful times you took a shower with your lover. You begin to cry, but you do as well as you can to hold it all together. You think about the young man who is here with you now. He’s lost so much, and yet he still wants to make sure you’re alright. It’s just so much to take. You don’t know how to return to the normal you once had. You worry that you’ll never ever be the same again. Without Kento, life has lost its meaning and its light. The color has been sucked away to leave such a drab and dreary view for you.

You wrap a fluffy towel around yourself after your shower. You head into the bedroom, and you find some clothes on the bed for you. Your heart flutters with affection. As soon as you slip on the clothes, you can tell you’re starting to feel a little better. And when you enter the kitchen again and see the big mess all cleared away, you know that maybe you can find solace in Yuji.

“Hey mom,” he says softly and he takes you into his arms. “I want you to be okay. Just know that I’m always here for you. Night or day, you can call me. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”

You’re not ready for him to leave and for this apartment to be so silent except for the ghosts of the past. You tremble in Yuji’s arms, and he holds you even tighter. He’s not sure if he should be leaving you right now, but he also knows he’s got to run a few more errands. With a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, Yuji vows to come back to you tomorrow with the intention of spending the night.

As you close the door, the sadness washes over you once more. But for your son, you try to stay strong. In your bedroom, you turn on the TV. The old shows and movies you used to watch are bringing back some bittersweet memories, but it’s keeping you as comforted as you can. You wrap yourself in the blanket Kento always used to use and you rest your weary body. It’s not long before your eyes close and you’re drifting off to sleep.

“There you are,” Kento says with a smile. Your heart skips a beat when you see him. “I thought you were going to be running late, but you’re right on time.”

You swallow hard. Is this real? There’s no way this could be real. Kento laughs softly at your confusion, then he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Have you missed me?”

A soft, strangled sob erupts from you. Then you throw yourself into his arms. He rubs your back slowly, the warmth of his body feeling so good against your own. It’s all too much for you to even deal with. You never knew an embrace would hurt you in this way. Kento presses soft kisses to your neck and jawline, a soft groan coming from him.

“Shhh…” he hushes you softly. “I know this isn’t easy, but I need you to try and be strong for me.”

You shudder, “Ken…I’m not sure I can.”

He frowns when he hears your words. You two were high school sweethearts that married young. You were the reason he returned to the sorcery world, and you were beginning to blame yourself for his death. You’ve wondered time and time again if you hadn’t convinced him to come back, he might not have died in Shibuya that night.

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head, “But it is my fault! You were safe when you were a salaryman…”

A cold chill passes through your body, and you begin to watch as Kento shifts appearances in front of you. The last time you saw him alive was the same moment he had turned to face Yuji. Those words still ring in your ears.

“You’ve got it from here…”

The bathroom is cold as you light a few candles. There’s a bottle of wine on the sink counter. And a note written in black ink for whoever ends up finding you. You’re done with this world. You can’t take it anymore.

You twist open the bottle of pills and you pour many of them into your head. With a soft sigh, you toss it all back with a swig of wine. The pills go down hard, but you know you’ll be happier soon. You’ll be free of the pain sooner than you think. Slowly, you take off your clothes. The pills and wine are already starting to affect you.

The water is so soothing and so good on your aching bones. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks once again for what seems like the umpteenth time. You can feel your mind start to spiral a bit as you think of everything you’re about to leave behind. But you’ve got no regrets about this. At least, you don’t realize in the moment that you have lots of regrets about taking your own life. Eventually, your eyes close and you let yourself get swept up in the warmth of the bath water and the feeling of the pills making you shut down.

“Mom?” a voice calls from the doorway. You can barely make it out, so you continue sinking into the water. Your body is no longer responding to outside stimulus.

“Where are you mom?! Mom, please answer me!”

Everything gets fuzzy after this, and your world turns black as you succumb to the painful end you’ve decided for yourself…

Your eyes begin to flutter open as you take in the stimulus of your surroundings. You blink a few times; your body is aching more than ever. Your eyes dart around the room and the steady beeping from machines begins to fill your ears. In the corner of the room, you notice your son is sleeping on a chair. You’re in a hospital bed right now.

‘He saved me. Yuji came back and saved me.’

You blink back a few tears, “Yuji…son?”

Yuji opens his eyes slowly and when he sees that you are awake and lucid, he bounces from his seat and makes his way over to you. You groan softly as he hugs you tightly. It hurts but it feels good as well. You can’t hold back your tears anymore. You’re crying of relief because you know you can try and make it through this darkness and pain if Yuji is there to help you.

“Mom…I thought I was going to lose you.” Yuji says with a sniffle. “I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Your heart swells with love, “I’m so glad you found me. I got so scared and I had a dream about your dad and…”

He hushes you and rubs your back softly. Yuji murmurs a praise for you, a soft and kind word of hope. Then he takes a few tissues from the side table and he wipes your eyes.

“I know it’s not easy with dad being gone,” Yuji starts. “But I promise to be with you every step of the way.”

You smile through more tears, “I’m so happy I have you.”

Yuji holds your hand, giving a squeeze. The sun begins to shine through the window and you see that beautiful smile on his face. It’s a smile that will give you courage as you get through this darkness.

Nanami’s voice rings through your mind, “You’ve got it from here, my love…take good care of our son.”

#bacon.writes #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #Nanami kento x you #Nanami kento angst #Nanami kento #itadori yuji & reader #Nanami is Yuji's adoptive father #papamin au #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk spoilers #jjk angst

193 notes · View notes

saviorellie · 11 months

Text

this will do.

pairing : ellie williams x reader

pov : third person , she/her pronouns

word count : 1,282 words

warning(s) : just fluff!!! college!ellie au!!! pinning!!!

notes : I’M ALIVE. yearly rebrand for the new hyperfixation. i need ellie williams desperately. that’s all!

masterlist

“y/n,” was the first word ellie spoke into the phone. “what’s up?”

her backpack was slipping off her shoulder. she just let it fall.

“can i come in?” she asked quietly. there was movement on the other end of the line.

“of course, y/n. you don’t need to ask.”

she didn’t respond.

“i’ll be out in a minute, okay? just got out of the shower- ‘m changing.”

she opened the door to her friend’s dorm room with the spare key ellie had gotten just for her. her space was warm and comforting and smelled of her, smokey and like home. but the tears came anyway.

ellie could feel it because she knows her. and has or ever a decade. but she didn’t expect to find her like this.

on a normal day, she would’ve had her backpack zipped open on the couch, her notebooks and laptop and ridiculous assortment of pens and highlighters and pencils spread out across the table. she would’ve pulled the blinds up and ridiculed ellie for failing to let light into her small apartment. she would’ve been rifling though her bare cabinets, trying and failing to find food to cook her an actual meal so she isn’t just living off of noodles and apple juice and weed. she would’ve glanced up at her best friend with gentle eyes and graced her with an even gentler hug.

but today, in the solitude and darkness of ellie’s apartment, she was sitting folded into herself on the couch.

it was easy for ellie to approach her, it was easy to crouch down and sit on the coffee table in front of her. if was difficult, however, to realize that she was avoiding eye contact. she knew. she was crying.

and there was just silence. ellie waited, watching her form shake while her heart sunk deeper into her chest with every passing second.

then finally, finally, she called out for her.

“ellie…” she whispered, and she was moving.

the couch cushions shifted as she sat next to her, pulling her in. as ellie tucked her head under her chin, her throat swelled with fear; she rarely saw this side of her and wanted nothing more than to take her pain away.

she was the composed one. she saw everything in her life in a positive light, taking things as they were and accepting whatever happened to her. she was compassionate and a great listener and an even better friend. the range of her emotions was about as diverse as one could imagine, but she was so talented in hiding her stresses that at times, even ellie didn’t notice until it built up so high that it just poured out.

here she was, the girl-ellie’s girl-that was always taking care of her and everyone else before herself. her work and her high expectations for herself had reduced to a bleak, discouraged figure in her friend’s embrace.

“angel,” ellie muttered, because she was still crying and her heart felt heavy and sometimes the line between best friend and more blurred and she forgot her place. she didn’t need a lover right now. she needed her best friend.

“i just… i just want to give up. i’m so tired,” she slurred long after ellie had lost track of time. once the tears had ceased and the shaking had subsided.

ellie just closed her eyes, searching for her hand in the dark. it made her so sad that the stress of college and work and bills and just living affected her hard-wired, determined, passionate self. she wanted to take it away and make if feel better. because that’s what she always did for her.

“it’ll be okay. you’ll, we’ll, figure it out. you always do.”

she nodded, just slightly, against her chest.

“i know,” she said. but the defeated sound would not leave her.

ellie didn’t really think through what she was doing as her hand brushed through her hair, brushing it back from her face. she was just exhausted. she needed comfort and ellie was going to give it as best she could.

“you gotta let me take care of you,” she sighed. “you can sleep here, if you want.”

she grunted out a noise of disapproval.

“no,” she muttered, but the softness in her voice betrayed her.

“you’re so stubborn,” ellie shot back and she laughed, just a little. and that was enough.

ellie swiveled on her heel when she heard her shuffling into the kitchen, smiling a bit at her disheveled appearance. it was harder than normal to ignore that she was in love with her on days like this.

she came right over and leaned into her side. naturally, her arm circled ellie’s waist and ellie’s arm rested on top of her shoulders as she peered into the pot she was stirring on the stove.

“what is going on?” she scoffed, because she was making actual food.

what was going on was that she has been serious earlier. about taking care of her.

after she’d fallen asleep earlier, ellie situated her on the couch and piled blankets on top of her because she was freezing all the time. although she didn’t want to chance being gone when she woke up, she didn’t have any food in her apartment and the protective side of her, reserved only for the girl sleeping on her couch, told her that was a problem. weighing her options, she went to the convenience store a couple streets over and grabbed the ingredients her favorite soup called for.

she pulled away from her best friend and hoisted herself up onto the counter next to the stove, leaning her head back on the wooden cabinet. ellie could tell she was thinking, so she left her alone. that is, until she noticed she was watching her.

“what?” she asked gently.

she just stared at her for a second. her beautiful, kind best friend. her auburn hair was falling out her bun and into her face and she had to resist the urge to push it back.

“thank you.”

ellie’s head tilted to the side.

“for what?” she moved a little closer and the girl beside her shrugged.

“i don’t know. it’s just…” she looked down at her lap, shifting on the granite countertop. “I’m still exhausted and overwhelmed and sad, but i know that you’ll be there so… i don’t know. it’s okay.”

she opened her arms lazily in ellie’s direction, the corners of her lips lifting in the slightest manner. so ellie hugged her. and her heart hurt.

then she pulled away, that dangerous thought invading her mind, the idea that the emotion in her eyes when she looked at her was how it felt for her to be in love with her best friend. the idea that she should risk it all and press a kiss to her cheek or forehead and gauge her reaction.

so instead, ellie stirred her soup and sat with her in comfortable silence.

“i love you,” she whispered, playing with the rings on her fingers.

ellie felt her breath hitch. she had said i love you to her before. but this felt different. she just didn’t know if it felt different for her too.

“i… i love you too.” she reached for her hand, running her thumb over the back of it. the silence returned, but ellie was no longer comfortable.

ellie didn’t know if what she felt would ever become reality- being more with her. but she did know that she was never going to stop caring for her and releasing her stress and doing little things to make her smile up at her with the glow she only held in her apartment.

but for now, this is plenty. this is enough. this will do.

125 notes · View notes

my-own-walker · 10 months

Note

OMG I got an idea. How about Kit Walker x Reader during the asylum and like maybe Kit learned origami to probs keep himself sane. But also like he made little presents for the reader like paper hearts, sweet secrets messages, PAPER RINGS.

Paper Rings

note: a person after my lil taylor swift heart 🥺

warnings: just like fluff, kinda mentions of sadness/abuse bc asylum ofc

+++

Kit's POV

My neck ached. After hours of being hunched over on my bed, my shoulders cramped and my head felt heavy.

It was for a noble cause, though. I sat, cross-legged, folding a piece of paper desperately. An attempt at a present that was all too important. It was quite possibly the only thing keeping me sane anymore.

See, when I was thrown into this place, I never thought I'd find a purpose in life again. My determination to escape dwindled by the day and I feared it would never come back. They were making me weak. Complacent. Altogether incapacitated.

In my spare time before the asylum, I wrote. I liked to keep a journal. I wrote down my thoughts. Sometimes I'd draw funny pictures for Alma. It was calming to me. At Briarcliff, though, writing was banned. Fountain pens and pencils were considered weapons. In a place like that, it could turn bad. So I had to find something different to occupy my time.

After receiving my pills one morning, I kept the small paper cup they were handed to me in. I folded it into a little triangle while sitting idly in the common room. I folded the corners down, and it kinda looked like a penguin. I chuckled softly to myself before an orderly came and stripped the paper out of my hands.

It became a daily routine after that. I would take my cup and stash it for later. Hide it in the waistband of my pants. I started shoving them in my pillowcase, or in cracks in the walls. When I'd lay in bed at night, unable to sleep, I would grab out one of the cups and begin to manipulate it into different shapes.

When Y/N got admitted, I was amazed to find that my mind felt clearer, and more and more reasons to try to get out made themselves apparent to me. She was light. Her soft skin, the way her hair bounced as she walked, and the glint in her eyes, all made me fall for her. She was a total doll. A marvel.

I watched her from across the common room. She tied her hair up messily as she looked down at the chess board before her, engrossed in thought. Strands of hair fell into her face and her brow furrowed. Her perfect soft lips pursed in concentration. I wanted to attack her and take her right there on that table.

Always the gentleman, though, I formally began a friendship with her. Over the weeks following, we found that we had more in common than I expected. She gave me a reason to want to live.

I fell in love with her quickly and wholly. I kissed her for the first time in a tucked-away supply closet in the women's wing. I was alive.

My nightly routine gained a new meaning. Every scrap of paper I collected went toward daily gifts for Y/N. She loved birds. She would always talk about she wished she could hear the birds sing outside again. So I figured out how to make all kinds of birds.

This present was different, though. Very different. I was very focused on the daintiest little project. One that was more important to me than anything I'd ever done up to that point. Finally satisfied with my handiwork, I tucked it into my pillow and curled up for a restless night's sleep.

The next morning, I rose with a start at the wake-up call. I couldn't bear to wait until common room time to see Y/N. Nevertheless, I persevered. The passing hours moved so slowly. But at long last, it was time to see Y/N.

She moved with such grace and beauty into the room. Her head was held high, eyes searching for me. I couldn't help but crack a smile when we finally met eyes. She made such a bleak place fill with air.

'Hiya doll,' I smiled, standing to greet her.

'Hi Kit,' she replied brightly. We both flopped down onto the small sofa in front of the window. I took her hand in mine and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. 'Today has been such a drag.'

'I couldn't agree more,' I sighed. 'But, I have somethin' for ya.' Her eyes brightened at my words. I let go of her hand and reached for my left pocket. I stopped before taking out my newest craft.

'Another bird?' she laughed, looking expectantly at my hands.

'No, beautiful. This is somethin' a little different. I gotta tell ya something first, though,' I explained. I removed my fingers from my pocket and placed them in my lap.

'Oh? What's that?' she asked, smile fading slightly.

'I know we haven't known each other for long, but Y/N, you mean the world to me,' I began. 'I'm not very good with my words, so. you'll have to bear with me.' I chuckled softly, putting my head down suddenly embarrassed by my feelings. 'I'll just come right out and say it. I think I love you, Y/N. I hadn't known the type of peace you give me until I met you, a-and I wanna show ya how much I mean this.'

My hand fumbled into my pocket and fished out a paper ring, perfectly smooth and thick enough to last.

'Oh, Kit,' she breathed.

'I wanna give ya this because I can't give ya anything more right now. But know it's a promise from me. When we get outta this place, I'm gonna buy you a real one a'these. A beautiful gold one. I love you,' I gushed.

'I love you too, Kit,' she smiled, tears forming in her eyes.

'I know it-it's kinda stupid but,'

'No Kit, it's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you,' she assured me. I slipped the paper ring onto her ring finger and it fit perfectly. I sighed inwardly in relief.

'Paper or gold, whatever it's made of, just know that it's a promise to you that I am for you. I love you. And we will get out of this place,' I continued.

And I meant every word.

+++

GOD I think this sucks I'm so sorry haha. Love y'all hope you're doing well and are safe and happy.

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #kit walker #kit walker imagine #kit walker x female reader #kit walker x reader #ahs asylum

109 notes · View notes

alkaline-wtr · 8 months

Text

K.I.A.

Price x gn!reader Description: Price comforts reader after hearing the news of their boyfriend's death. Genre/Warnings: Price x gn!reader, kia!Ghost, angst, TW mentions of death, hurt/comfort, explicit language, SAD, imagine WC: 1k

My Masterlist

**AN This is my first fanfic contribution to the COD fandom. I am sorry 😬

The world around you seemed to lose its color, and time stood still as you processed the news.

"I'm so sorry (y/n)."

The soldier before you says with a solemn look. His voice sounded distant as you stood in shock. He turns to walk away. You to look over the letter in your trembling hands. The military emblem felt like a dagger in your heart as tears welled up in your eyes but wouldn't fall.

The shock shifted to anger. Shepherd had betrayed them. And now he was gone.

You and Ghost had been dating for some time now. You were coming up on your first anniversary soon, which he, especially, had been excited about. It was going to be a huge milestone for both of you. But now, all of it seemed bleak.

The words echoed in your mind, making your surroundings seem surreal. At least you hoped it was all just a dream. As the anger boiled up inside you, you react without thinking. Your feet seemed to move on their own as you stormed down the hall to Captain Price's office.

The door smacked the wall as you barged in. Rage filled every inch of your body.

"HE TRUSTED YOU!"

You screamed at Price, who sat at his desk, head in his hands. He held a cigar loosely between his fingers. He looked down at the papers on his desk, seeming defeated.

"(Y/n), pleas-"

You cut him off.

"HE TRUSTED YOU. YOU SENT HIM OUT THERE!"

Your hands grip the edge of the desk as you lean forward. Price had always been somewhat of a father figure to you, but this? You could never forgive.

Price raises his hands in surrender as he leans back in his chair.

"You need to calm down, (y/n)."

His voice is soft, like a parent speaking to a young child. He Places the burning cigar in the brown ashtray on his desk and stands up.

"Do not tell me to calm down."

You hiss through gritted teeth. Price walks around the desk cautiously as you push yourself up from the edge.

"(Y/n), listen to me. There was nothing anyone could have done. If I had known that Shepherd was going to go rogue. I-"

Price paused with a sigh. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you shrug it off.

"Don't touch me!"

You spit. Price looks at you Sympathetically.

"(Y/n)."

Price begs.

"I understand that you're upset (y/n), and rightfully so, but I'm not the person you're angry at, not in the slightest. Okay?"

His attempt to diffuse the situation only furthers the building rage within you. Without a second thought, your balled fist flies towards Price's face.

Price catches your fist and looks at you. He brings his free hand up to your chin.

"(Y/n), stop. It's not worth it. I know what you're going through right now. I do. But you need to calm down and let your thoughts and feelings settle. Now. Go home. Get some rest, and then come back tomorrow."

The words meant to soothe you only add fuel to the fire instead.

"YOU BASTARD!"

You scream, once again swinging a fist in his direction. Price dodges the punch. The fear and rage blind you as you shove Price backward. He stumbles a couple of steps, quickly regaining balance.

"You can try and hit me all you want, but none of this will bring him back! He's gone, (Y/n)!"

You can hear the frustration in his voice now. Price watches as your arm flexes back to throw another punch. He acts quickly. His hand grabs your wrist, spinning you around. Your back is to his chest as he holds you tightly. His arms wrapped around your torso, keeping your arms pinned to your side.

You give in, restrained by Price's firm grip. You can feel your knees give out beneath you as the tears finally spill from your eyes. Your body is racked with sobs.

"Shh, shh, it's okay (y/n). Let it out. I'm here for you, okay?"

His voice is soft as he speaks into your shoulder. He follows you to the floor as you drop to your knees. Price sits down and pulls you into his lap.

He rocks you in his arms like a child, his fatherly instincts kicking into full gear. Price kisses the top of your head and rubs your back gently. The loud sobs escape you as the tears flow uncontrollably down your cheeks.

"It's okay, you're alright now. You're safe, okay? It's okay to cry. It's okay to be upset. It's okay to be scared. But, you have to let it out. Just let it all out, my dear.."

His comforting words filled your head as you cried. You don't know how long you stayed like this on the office floor, but it felt like hours. You felt exhausted as your tears ran dry. Your sobs are now just soft sniffles in the quiet room.

Price noticed you weren't crying anymore. He stopped rocking you, his hand gently petting your hair.

"Feeling better?"

He asks, almost whispering the words. You shake your head.

"I don't think I'll ever feel better."

You say. Price looks down at your head that rests against his chest. He can see the exhaustion on your face.

"He had such a good heart."

You say, looking up at Price.

"He didn't deserve this."

Your voice fell into a whisper. Price took a moment to think about what to say next. He felt the tears welling in his own eyes as he smiled. Price cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

"You're right."

He begins softly.

"Ghost didn't deserve any of this. It is so unfair. He was a good man. An amazing man! Nothing will erase the grief we are all suffering from right now. But we will get through this one step at a time. Every day, we will continue to remember Ghost for who he was."

You stay silent, looking at Price, unsure of what to say.

"All we can do now is move forward."

He says. His hand falls away from your face.

"Ghost will always live on in here."

Price finishes, pointing at your heart.

PART TWO >>