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pinknightsinmymind · 2 years

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【 talk to me - ellie williams 】

ellie williams x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

requests : open

based off request prompt: I've been struggling to find a job and it's been making my depression worse and making me feel kinda worthless, could you do Ellie comforting a Fem! Reader with something similar?

content: modern!au, ellie comforting you, hurt-comfort, opening up, struggling with mental health, struggling with emotional vulnerability, learning to ask for help, ellie takes care of you, use of pet names(baby, babe, love, etc.)

a/n: such an amazing prompt. personally i struggle with my mental health a lot, and sometimes it's hard to ask for help bc i struggle with emotional vulnerability. since it's something i understand and know, i thought i'd incorporate that a little bit into this oneshot. i also thought it'd be a good way to talk about the topic and what it's like to struggle with it. i hope you enjoy!

Your phone had been ringing every other hour as you laid in bed. Sometimes you had an excuse to ignore it because you were sleeping or watching something on your laptop. Other times you didn’t, and you’d get a text while you doomscrolled and simply ignore the notification. Was it wrong? Yes, but you simply didn’t have the energy. You only left the bed to use the restroom, and when you weren’t doing that you stayed buried beneath your blankets.

Ignoring the texts you got from friends and family made you feel guilty, but you already felt terrible, so what was more pain? It was masochistic, in a way, allowing yourself to feel more pain because you thought you deserved it, allowing yourself to wallow more. It was an act of complete self-loathing, but could you stop? No. It was like watching yourself making all these decisions, knowing you should stop and change, do something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to at all. It was like the weight of the should-do’s and should-not’s were hanging over you, asking you to make a decision, but the only one you could make was to stay in bed.

You let the hours pass, one after the other, paying no mind to how the sun danced below the horizon and ushered in the stars. You paid no mind to the world outside your four walls, to the people you knew were out there. They would have lended you a helping hand if you asked, but you were unable to extend your own hands towards them. You were scared to ask them for help, to display all your vulnerabilities and fears before them. The idea of someone seeing you whole—beyond the exterior and into all the moving parts that created you—terrified you. You couldn’t let them see you weren’t the made-up person you let on, that behind every smile laid a set of eyes slowly losing their light. So you kept it all inside, burying it deep beneath your flesh and into the tissues of your heart tucked away in your ribcage. You’d feel it all there while everyone saw the image you wanted them to see, and they’d never know.

At least, in your hurt and pessimistic mind, you thought no one would care enough to notice you weren’t okay, or that you hadn’t been answering them. They’d be better off without me. I’m just holding them back, was the line of reasoning you used to justify this. However, you couldn’t be more wrong. It was close to ten when you heard knocking on the door to your apartment, which shocked you at first. You weren’t expecting company, and you didn’t know who would be showing up this late at your front door. You sighed as you shrugged off your blanket and made your way to the front door. The knocking didn’t lighten up.

“Hold up! I’m coming!” you yelled. The knocking finally subsided. “What do you—Oh.” You froze as soon as you saw it was Ellie at your door. You both stared at each other for a moment, processing the current situation. You hadn’t expected to see her here, but you knew better than to think your girlfriend would possibly stay away at a time like this.

“Yeah, ‘Oh,’” she said tauntingly, but still with a touch of softness in her eyes. “Can I come in?” You nodded. You didn’t think you could deny her her request after she came all the way here. You let her into your apartment and closed the door behind both of you. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stared at Ellie, unsure what to say.

“It’s pretty late,” you finally settled on saying. “Why’d you come all this way?”

“Um, because you haven’t answered my calls?” she said. You winced. You had been ignoring everyone today, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that Ellie was upset. “Or my texts?” she continued. “I haven’t heard from you all day, and I was worried, so I decided to come by.”

“Thanks for checking in, but I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to come all the way here.” It’s not that you wanted her to leave, but you also didn’t know if you could handle having her here. Part of you wanted to be alone, far from everyone, so you could never disappoint them with the weight of your problems.

“Babe, I don’t know how to put this nicely, but you don’t… seem okay,” she said, trying to select her words carefully. “I haven’t heard from you all day, and this just isn’t like you.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you insisted. “Today’s just been a lazy day, and I lost track of time, so I haven’t been on my phone, and—”

“And do you typically ignore everyone on your lazy days? Even Dina and Jesse said you’ve been ignoring them.”

“Not intentionally,” you countered.

“Baby, what’s going on? Be honest with me, please.” She could have easily been angry with you, but instead her face was soft and worried.

“I’m not lying about anything, so what’s there to be honest about?” You couldn’t come clean. It’s not that you didn’t want to, but you didn’t know how. How were you supposed to ask for help? How were you supposed to look someone in their eyes and let them in, let them know that you’re struggling to breathe everyday? How do you tell them without fearing they’ll look at you differently once they see that deep down inside you are a shaking coward who can’t even own up to their emotions? And once you open up, what then? Would the other person even stay once you tell them you’re not the image they had of you in their head? Would they validate your feelings, or would they make you regret ever opening up in the first place? God, what a vicious cycle.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Ellie stepped closed to you, her warm hand enveloping your cheek. Her eyes searched yours, and although she had every right to be angry at you, there was no anger in her eyes whatsoever. “Come on,” she said quietly. “You think I don’t know pushing people away as a defense mechanism? I’m practically the master of it.”

“I don’t—I don’t know what to say.”

“Anything. First thing that comes to mind.”

“Can we sit down to talk?” you asked. She nodded and grabbed your hand, leading you to the nearby couch. She kept both of your hands in her firm grip, her warmth spreading throughout your body. More than anything you wanted Ellie to pull you into her arms and wrap you up in them, but you didn’t know how to ask her that. How do you even be that honest with a person?

“You can tell me anything,” she finally said after a while. You glanced up at her, into those eyes that seemed to scour through every part of your soul, before looking down again.

“The thought of you seeing me terrifies me. I don’t know how to handle the idea of someone seeing past the image of myself I put up.”

“Nothing you say or do could ever make me change how I see you. You’re perfect.”

“But that’s the problem. I’m not perfect. I may make everyone think I am, and that I have it together, but on the inside I’m falling apart. Everything’s a mess in my head, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“That’s not what I meant, babe. Nobody’s perfect. We all have our flaws, you and me too, but they don’t make you lesser. I see you as you are, flaws and all, and I still think you’re perfect just as you are.” Her words made you want to curl up in a ball. This was all you had ever wanted—for someone to see you—and she did. All the antsy feelings you had seemed to fade away at her words, and you found yourself falling into her arms with your face buried in her hoodie. It was so soft, and it smelled just like her. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?” she asked, petting your hair.

“I just… I’ve really been struggling lately. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t leave my bed. My grades are slipping, I’m struggling to find a job, and the worst part is I feel like I can’t do anything to stop it. I know I should get my shit together, but I literally can’t bring myself to. Everything feels like it's out of my hands, and I feel like such a failure.” You let out a dry laugh. “Imagine being the creator of your own problems, complaining about them, and not doing anything to fix them. It makes me feel like shit.”

“You’re not a failure, let’s get that straight,” Ellie ordered. “Why are you measuring your worth based on your accomplishments, anyway? They don’t define you.”

“Because if I don’t work hard, what does that say about me?”

“That you know your limitations.”

“Just means I’m lazy.”

“Laziness isn’t a real thing. It’s all made up for productivity. Sometimes you have rough patches, and you can’t help if that sets you back farther than where you want to be.”

“But I’m tired of feeling like this. I don’t want to be stuck in this feeling. I want it to be over.”

“Baby, sometimes you gotta feel your emotions and let them pass. Or talk to someone. Like you’re doing right now.”

“Talking about emotions is gross,” you joke. Ellie rolled her eyes. “Joking.”

“Sure you are.” Ellie rubbed your back gently. “I want you to know that nothing about you is a failure. You’ve come so far, and just because things aren’t going how you want them to right now doesn’t mean they never will. You know, this will pass one day, and you’ll look back at this and think about how hard it was, but you’ll be glad you got through it. That’s life, isn’t it? Memories and experiences all built up on each other as time passes.”

“I guess.” You huffed out a breath. “Since when are you so wise?”

“Since always?” Ellie joked. “But also therapy helps, which I can help you look into if you want.”

“Sure,” you answered.

“If you need help with anything, just tell me, okay? I don’t care what it is. Jobs, school, cleaning up your apartment, whatever it is. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

“I do.”

“And that includes listening to you. Please don’t ignore me like this again. I’m always here for you, and nothing will annoy me or make me see you differently. I know it’s hard opening up to people and letting them see you even below the surface, but I love every part of you, even the ones you don’t like. No matter what, you’ll always be my love.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes at her words. You had been holding them back this whole time, but enough was enough. You let the tears finally spill out as your arms latched tightly around Ellie’s neck. All you ever wanted was for someone to accept you, to see you as you are, even if that person wasn’t the picture perfect image you put up. It was hard to do, but once those words left Ellie’s mouth it made you feel like it was all worth it.

“H-hey, you okay?” Ellie asked once she realized you were crying. “I’m sorry, did I upset you?” You shook your head in response. You needed to let it all out for a moment before you could speak to her, doing your best to wipe the tears away and clear your throat before you spoke to her.

“I’m okay. You’re just really comforting,” were the only words you could choke out. How Ellie managed to see so deeply into your soul and understand you was a mystery you’d never be able to solve. But did you always need to understand everything, especially when it was something as wonderful as this?

“Good. I just wanna make you feel better.”

“It’s working.” After a few more minutes you finally calmed down enough to speak, and you pulled away from Ellie’s arms. You wiped your runny nose and some of the tears from your cheeks. Gross, but that’s just how crying is. You knew that Ellie couldn’t fix all your problems at once, but she could help you with what she could. At least now you wouldn’t have to navigate it alone, and you’d have a way to make it better so it wasn’t all suffering. You weren’t asking Ellie to “fix” you, because you know she can’t, but maybe she can help you find the light you’re looking for. “You make me feel better just by having you here. Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. I’m always here for you.”

“You make me feel like I’m not alone, and like I can get to the bottom of everything.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Ellie swiped a piece of your hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead. “Now come on. I’m gonna run you a bath and then we’ll have dessert and watch a movie, okay? How does that sound?”

“I’d like that.”

Ellie ran your bath shortly after, running her hands through the water while you sat in its warmth. She talked to you idly about whatever came to your minds, cracking jokes here and there, checking in on you and how you felt. You honestly liked having her company and didn’t want to be alone anymore. How could you when you had this amazing woman by your side? Ellie left the shower while you dressed to get together the ice cream bowls for the two of you. You offered to help, but she declined.

“I’m taking care of you right now, love, so just focus on relaxing,” she told you before she left. You finished dressing, and when you entered the living room you found she had put on your favorite TV series to watch. She had the ice cream bowls waiting for you on your coffee table, and a large blanket in her hands while she stood by the couch. “Get over here. We’re cuddling,” she stated proudly. You didn’t argue and sat down on the couch, Ellie following suit and settling the blanket over both your laps. She handed you your bowl of ice cream, grabbed hers, then unpaused the show she put on for you.

Being like this with her was so relaxing, and you wouldn’t change it for anything. Ellie put you at ease in a way nothing else could. When she did things like this for you, you felt yourself falling more and more in love with her.

“I love you,” you said to her, turning to face her and seeing how the TV casted different lights across her face.

“I love you too.” She gave you a quick kiss. “More than anything.”

“Thank you for doing all this for me. And listening to me. It means a lot.”

“Anytime.” You felt her wrap her arm around your shoulder, resting her head against yours. “This show’s surprisingly good,” she commented.

“Of course it is. That’s why I like it.”

“I’m sorry I ever questioned your judgment,” she joked. “Do you mind if I stay the night?”

“Not at all.”

“Good, because I’m sleeping next to you and holding you all night.”

#tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #tlou ellie #tlou x reader #the last of us ellie #the last of us #the last of us ii

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george-weasleys-girl · 9 months

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North Star Series

Chapter 40 - The Very Short Engagement

Start here:

Summary: Plot twist 😉

Warning: none that I remember

~•~

Someone was knocking at the door.

"Go away, Fred," George muttered and rolled over to pull Y/N close. "We agreed I get the room tonight." He was back at Hogwarts, and it was Thursday night, his and Y/N's night to get the dorm room to themselves.

The knocking continued.

George groaned, rolling back over and rubbing his eyes. "Alright, alright. Gimme a bloody minute." He reached over the side of the bed to grab his pants, only to discover they weren't there. That was strange. He and Y/N always kept their clothes nearby in case they had to get dressed quickly.

George opened his eyes and realized that he was not at Hogwarts, nor was it night. He was instead in his apartment bedroom, and according to his clock, it was almost noon.

That's when everything came flooding back, and a surge of euphoria overtook him. He looked over at Y/N, now his fiancé, and smiled. She was beginning to stir but wasn't yet awake. He was about to lean over and kiss her nose when the knocking started back up.

Except it wasn't knocking. It was tapping. On the bedroom window. He looked up to see Artemis, his parents' new owl waiting outside patiently.

Well, at least he didn't have to get dressed for that. Good thing, too, since his clothes from last night lay in a pile on the floor next to the dining room table.

~•~

"You really don't care?" George looked stunned. "I thought every girl wanted the fairytale wedding."

"Not me," Y/N smiled. "The marriage is far more important to me than the wedding. I'd marry you on the side of the road and wearing a potato sack."

They'd talked about being married many times, but it wasn't until the letter arrived that George realized they'd never discussed getting married. He just always assumed, because of her parents' drunken Vegas nuptials, that she would want a proper wedding.

Except she didn't. And truthfully, he was okay with that. More than ok.

"I'd elope with you right now, except..." He looked down at the parchment on the table.

"Same," she picked up the letter and reread it.

Dear Y/N,

I'm so excited! When do you two plan to announce your engagement? Hopefully soon! I can't wait to help plan the wedding!!!

Love,

Ginny

"It'd break her heart if we ran off and eloped," Y/N sighed. "I can't do that to her."

"Me either," George agreed.

Y/N folded up the letter and placed it back in the envelope. "So, when do you want to make the announcement?

~•~

Two days later, at the Burrow, George and Y/N announced their engagement. It went exactly as they'd expected. Molly nearly smothered them both. Ginny spent half the night bragging that she knew before her mum. And then everyone else gave hugs or handshakes and offered their hearty congratulations.

"We're actually thinking something small and simple," George said before Molly went overboard with grandiose plans.

"And we'd like to do it as soon as possible," Y/N added.

"How soon?" Arthur asked.

"We were thinking mid-January," George answered. "Everything will be wound down from the holidays, and it'll give her grandma and her best friend time to make arrangements to fly over."

"Are you sure that's safe," Hermione asked. "With everything... going on."

"We'll make it safe. We're not leaving her family out," Molly asserted with such finality that no one else dared to argue.

"Well then, that doesn't give us much time to plan," Ginny said, breaking the silence. "So we best get to it."

~•~

Five hours later

Y/N fell face first onto the bed as soon as she and George got home.

"Tired, love?" He smiled, rubbing her back.

"Mmfmhmfm," she answered.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't speak muffled pillow."

Y/N rolled over and gave him an apologetic smile. "I don't think I've ever been this exhausted in my life. I can't believe we planned the entire wedding in one night."

"Well, I, for one, am quite impressed," he stretched out across the bed beside her.

Y/N smiled and nuzzled her face into his neck.

"I just don't like having to wait a month," he mummered.

Y/N was quiet for a few moments, then she leaned back and looked at him. "So, why should we?"

"What? You mean cancel the wedding?"

"No," Y/N sat up. "I mean, we could get married tomorrow and not tell anyone. Except for Fred, of course, but he'd never breathe a word of it."

George sat up, meeting her eye to eye. "Get married? Tomorrow?"

She nodded.

"This what you really want? Truly?"

"Yes, truly," she admitted. "I don't want to wait anymore than you do. I want to marry you tomorrow."

He stared at her, searching her eyes for any doubts, before a huge grin spread across his face, and he tackled her. "You are the most amazing woman to ever live," he said. "And I can't believe that tomorrow I get to call you my wife." He leaned in to kiss her, then paused, eyes widening. "We need to tell Fred! C'mon!" He started to pull her up but stopped. "Never mind, you're tired. I'll go get him," he jumped up. "Be right back!"

Y/N giggled, watching him run out the door. Godric, she loved that man more than life. George Weasley was her dream come true.

She leaned back thinking about their long-running "argument" as to who was the lucky one in the relationship and finally decided they were both right.

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @peachesgaeass @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @ceehance

Maybe that's what true love really meant, she thought. Both people thinking they were the lucky one.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #hp universe #hp fandom #north star series

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cowgurrrl · 4 months

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since OFTM asks are being answered atm, I thought I'd come through with a few questions of my own about this WONDERFUL and LOVELY series because it's that good!

1. ik we're wayyyyyy past it but do rockstar!joel and actress!reader do anything for Valentine's day? have they done things early on the relationship, do they still celebrate now or maybe it's something simple like posting cute photos of each other on their stories??

2. okay this one is a fun one and I know there was an ask about how reader would potentially be a presenter at an award show BUT would she ever host at some point? if so, i definitely think she'd pull it off + she'd probably do some cute promos as well, maybe even do an announcement promo with joel in some way! i think it'd be fun for her if she did + joel and the kids would LOVE it.

3. as reader ever got to work with big name actors/actresses before or does she prefer more indie like things and working with more unknown actors and actresses?

4. idk if it was mentioned at some point but was reader ever pregnant during a project/role she was doing? how was her experience and what was it like? i def think there'd be times when joel visited the set and she was all smiles because "daddy's here! visiting us" haha, it'd be precious!

5. this one is ABSOLUTELY silly but i notice how some celebrities will be at big events or something such as a tennis game or whatever and some of the reactions are SUCH a mood so i feel like if joel and reader attended some type of event like that, their reactions would be so silly and REAL.

last one finally lmaooo, im sorry i just love these two lots but speaking of special events, i think of how sweet and nice it is to imagine joel just watching from a distance as reader is out doing her thing at a premiere or something like the met gala where she looks GORGEOUS and Joel's thinking "wow, there she is! that's my amazing beautiful wife" 🥹🥹🥹 because he's such a supporter of her HELLO and he's just an awe but also, imagine how reader feels whenever she sees joel on stage knowing that a song is being dedicated to her or just watching her husband from a distance knowing that's the person she's married and fell for.

ANYWAYS! this is so long, again so sorry 😭 but I'm curious to know your answers when you get a chance 👀💜💜💜💜

DONT BE SORRY THIS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR OKAY

I think at the beginning of their relationship, they definitely go all out for Valentine's Day. Nice hotels, dinners, heartfelt (and expensive) presents, the whole nine yards. I think when Sam and the girls are little, it gets harder to do stuff for Valentine's Day especially when you're bouncing between work, school, and helping your children make "Valentimes" for their classmates. Things calm down just a little and you two will settle for a nice, homemade dinner in your messy kitchen after the kids have gone to bed. Joel will send flowers to you at work and you'll humor him with a silly, giggly strip tease even though you're wearing sweatpants and a shirt with marker stains on it. It's pure, domestic bliss. Once the kids are older and they've been married for a long time, I think they would alternate between elaborate plans and low-key ones. After all, they definitely don't need an excuse to be grossly in love with each other.

I could totally see her hosting an award show! She'd be so busy but having so much fun and she'd recruit all her famous contacts to help her with promotion and what not. On the night of, if Joel's not there, he totally sets up a watch party at home with all of the Miller kids, spouses, and grandkids and cheers you on the whole time. If he is there, the kids are probably there too and help you backstage with awards, setting up different presenters, and keeping you calm. You'd all get dressed up and take nice pictures as a family. I see it being hectic but so rewarding (no pun intended)

I think it's a good mix of both! I have it in my personal canon that she does go on to do some Marvel, Greta Gerwig, Bridgerton type projects that have so much hype (and a huge budget) surrounding them but I also see her taking on some smaller roles from smaller production companies as long as the story is good. In my head, Red Dirt Girl (the movie talked about through much of the main storyline) is a smaller production and smaller actors but they all end up taking OFF after that.

I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABOUT THIS TODAY GET OUT OF MY HEAD okay so I think with Sam, she is definitely pregnant in the middle of filming something but doesn't realize until she passes out at work or something and she gets taken to the hospital where they find out she's pregnant. They weren't trying but they weren't being careful so it's a little bit of a shock but they adjusted. For the first time in her career, she'd let them hire a stunt double for her and would take it easier than she had in the past. They'd definitely have to change some wardrobe and people would treat her like she's made of glass but it's all manageable. Joel would be the biggest change of pace. He'd been on set before but after they find out they're pregnant, HES THERE EVERYDAY. I think they'd fight about it a little bit just because she feels a little smothered and Joel agrees to back off a little. As she progresses, I think she'd be more okay with him visiting and would poke at her belly and be like, "your dad's here." With the twins, they find out relatively early on because her symptoms are so bad it's literally unavoidable and they try to keep it a secret for as long as possible BUT when she goes back to reshoot a scene where she has to be smoking a cigarette or something, she's like, "..... no." and they're like "we need this for continuity," and she's like "I'm pregnant. With twins." BECAUSE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO SAY. I think she would've worked for longer when she was pregnant with Sam than when she was pregnant with the girls just because of the risks and Miller children are not known for being easy so I definitely think she'd have a harder time with the girls than she did with Sam but everything ends up okay!

It's canon to me that the Millers are a BASEBALL FAMILY it was actually one of the first things I wrote for the One for the Money universe! Joel is partial to the Astros (boo) while she's definitely more of a Cubs/Yankees fan because she lived in New York and did a lot of filming in the Chicago/Midwest area for a time. I think they would be able to compromise and cheer for the Dodgers together but when it comes to their personal teams, they don't play around. Sam also goes on to play baseball professionally so I see them going to baseball games together as a big, happy family. Being an actress, she DEFINITELY wouldn't be able to keep her emotions a secret and would regularly be caught yelling, cheering, and dancing along to whatever song is playing through the stadium. God Bless anyone in the nearest vicinity when the Astros and the Yankee's play each other in the World Series.

I 100% think Joel has these moments all the time at events. I see her off doing her own thing like interviews or individual photos and he's just staring at her like "that's really my wife." He's known to get teary or really affectionate on red carpets, giving photographers everything and more. She tends to do the same thing, especially if he's getting recognized for something, and will get choked up during interviews about him. They're just so in love and proud of each other they make me SICK

Thank you for all your fun questions about my little oftm family! I hadn't thought about some of these before and it was really fun to think about them so thank you!!!

#I need a T-shirt that says ask about my lore #there’s so many thoughts brewing all the time about everything #also you can really see how I interchange the pronouns here when talking about actress!reader lol #I never know if I’m supposed to use you/your or she/her #I just do whatever sounds the best at the moment #thank you so much for the asks!!#one for the money two for the show #oftm #oftm family #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

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sleepy-achilles · 2 months

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Some HBTaker fluff? Maybe involving motorcycles and flowers?

(Yup, my thoughts are random this evening)

A Bunch of Roses

This is slightly short but it is the one I ended up calling Shawn every name other than Shawn. Taker? Taker kept his name. Shawn? Shawn became Leon (which is weird af), Scotty, Tony and I could go on. But I like this. Short, sweet and cute af. I hope you enjoy :)

Shawn frowns as he opens his locker. Nothing. Nothing at all. "What the hell?" Shawn huffs. "Whats wrong bub?" Kevin asks as he sits on the bench. "No rose. I always get a rose around valentines day." Shawn admits closing his locker. "Maybe your secret admire was held up" Kevin suggests. Shawn looks over at taker who's arguing with Paul. "I thought it'd be different this time." Shawn whispers.

Kevin watches as the blond sulks away. "Ah fuck." Kevin huffs standing and walking over to taker. "Hey takes, can I borrow ya?" Kevin asks. "Yeah" Taker nods allowing the man to pull him away.

"Why no flower?" Kevin asks. "Sorry?" Taker pauses in confused. "You didnt leave Shawn a flower. And yeah I know it's you. He knows it. And he's fucking gutted." Kevin gets straight to the point. Taker looks at the locker in question. "Fuck...fuck! I knew I forgot something" Taker groans. As Taker panics and freaks out Kevin scribbles on a piece of paper. "Chill, just take this and surprise him later. He's off for the rest of the week" Kevin tells him. "Ill even keep the kliq away from him. Just make it up to him" Kevin huffs before walking away.

Taker looks down to see a hotel address and room number, and phone number. "Yeah. I can make this right." Taker nods pocketing the paper.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn slings his towel over the chair as he makes his way to the bed. He coulda sworn the boys were supposed to be coming over tonight. He sits up and reaches for the phone as it starts to ring.

"Good timing or bad?" Shawn asks himself as he picks up the phone. "Hey, I thought you guys were coming over tonight?" "Yeah sorry about that. I might have cancelled your plans." A gruff voice states. Shawn straightens up. "Taker?" "Yeah, it's me. Mind coming outside?" Taker asks. "Sure, can I ask what for?" Shawn questions grabbing his bag. "To make up for my ignorance." Taker answers. "To...ah....Kevin" "Kevin. I am truly sorry but, I'd like to tell you that to your face" Taker hums. "Ill be down." "See ya"

Shawn places the phone down and pulls on some decent clothes. He couldn't lie, he is quite excited. But he's also shitting himself. Is this going to be cute or a trap?

God Shawn needs to get out more. Shawn makes his way around the reception to the front door.

Shawn pauses at the sight. Taker leant against his bike with a bunch of black roses in his hand. Shawn can't fight the smile on his face as he rushes out the door.

"A whole bunch?" Shawn asks. Taker chuckles nervously and pushes away from his bike. "Well, you deserve a lot more. I forgot your gift. And I don't aspect to be forgiven, it's unspeakable, but I'm so so-" Takers eyes widen as shawn pulls him into a kiss. Their first kiss, when takers being an idiot.

Shawn pulls back and accepts the roses. "I forgive you. I forgive you because you feel like shit and you've gone out of your way to make it up to me. You've also brought me my first ever bunch of flowers. And did I mention your cute when your nervous and feeling bad?" Shawn rambles. "You just kissed me" Taker whispers. "Wh...oh..sorry" Shawn blushes. "I didnt mea-" now it's takers turn to kiss Shawn.

Shawn smiles as they pull back. "Drop the flowers off and allow me to take you out on a date. Treat you right." Taker suggest. "Your asking me out?" Shawn asks. "If you'd like that. I know a nice restaurant around here. We could then ride down to the beach and walk for a few. And then I'll walk you back to your door." Taker shrugs. Shawn takes takers hand. "And you'll stay over?" Shawn asks.

"If that's what you'd like. So, is it a yes?"

"Yes. I'd love too."

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker

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therealnuclearplatypus · 2 years

Text

MALECTOBER 2022 DAY 21 + EXTRA 3—CURSE & BREATH

@malectober

"Did he ... leave anything behind?"

Magnus looked at his youngest son. "What on earth do you mean?"

Max swallowed. "I mean, like ... notebooks, journals. Something. A part of him, somewhere."

Magnus sighed. "He's everywhere. In the walls, outside the windows, in every room. I rather wish he wasn't. It would be easier to cope ..."

"Would you rather erase all the good memories just so you won't be having this bad one?" Rafe asked sharply. "Would you rather you'd never had met him, so you wouldn't have had to see him—"

Magnus quickly covered his ears. "Rafe, don't!"

"—die? Papa, he's dead. There's nothing—" A funny look came over Rafael's face then, as if he'd just realized what he'd said. "Nothing ..." He looked at his father, tears suddenly pooling in his eyes. "Oh, my god. Papa, Papa, he's dead—"

Magnus got up from his chair and ran to him, holding him close. His own suffering would have to wait. His children were in pain.

"Oh, honey," he said as soothingly as he could, "he is ..." He wrapped an arm around Max, too. "And you're right, there's nothing we can do about it. You remember what I'd told you, what happened to Malcolm and Annabel: we can't try to bring him back. He's somewhere we can't reach." He stifled a sob. "And no, Rafe. Even if I'd had to do this all again, I'd have chosen him anyways. Always him. This pain is the price we pay for being blessed with such great love."

"I did love him," Rafe said, trying not to sob, "I still do. I—Pa, we were arguing before he—he said—he wanted to keep me safe. And I got angry at him for it. The last words I said to him were angry ones!"

"Sweetest," his father whispered, "he wouldn't have cared. You could have cursed him to die yourself and he'd still have loved you till his last breath. You know he did. Nothing can deter your father from being a living miracle."

"He isn't living anymore, though," Max put in with a sniffle. "And you didn't answer my question."

Magnus looked at him. "What?"

"My question. Did he leave something behind? I just ... want to feel closer to him again. I want to pretend he's still here and complaining about his hot chocolate being too hot."

They all chuckled sadly at that. Magnus shrugged. "He used to write a lot of poetry, believe it or not. I read some of it once ... it was actually quite good. He seemed like a wall of stone sometimes but he was such a tender person underneath all that." He stroked Max's hair. "And I think that was his form of keeping a diary. It helped him let out a lot of inexpressible emotions."

"Do you ... know where it is?" Rafe asked in a small voice. "Can we read it?"

"I'll look for it, because I'm genuinely not sure where it is," Magnus admitted. "But I'll be the one reading aloud, so I'll know which parts to skip."

"Why would you wanna skip anything?" Max asked, starting to scowl.

"Well. He's been writing for as long as I can remember. Some may not be entirely PG, if you know what I mean. Do you really wanna know what your 19-year-old father thought of me when I—"

"Okay, okay, okay, you can keep those entries to yourself, thank you." Max covered his ears. "Now go find it. I want Dad."

___

They were sat in the bedroom, Magnus on his side of the bed, Max and Rafe at the foot of the bed. They left Alec's side empty. It didn't feel right.

They'd already read a few. Turns out he'd been writing for much longer than he'd known Magnus. It had always been his private form of self-expression. The poetry wasn't always good in the beginning, but as they progressed they got better and deeper.

Magnus turned a page. Alec never bothered to title the entries. They were just page after page of pure emotion, and it made his heart ache to know Alec felt all of that. The good, the bad, the confusing. A complete human experience, documented by the finest example of a human.

He cleared his throat to read the next one:

"It's hard to breathe but it's getting easier,

I thought it'd always be a struggle.

You're my oxygen and I've never felt so light.

This shivering pen in the grip of my fingers,

you lie beside me, silent and still.

The night outside is dark and cold

but with you here I don't fear its blackness.

Your breathing is steady and that calms my ever-frantic heart;

my erratic pace slows to match your serenity

and I've never felt so at home.

I thought I was cursed forever, until my dying breath,

but you've changed my mind and you've changed my heart

and my soul is free of its everlasting curse

because I've found something even more everlasting.

Thank you for helping me find it."

Magnus almost couldn't finish it. His voice cracked. He was trying not to cry, but Max and Rafe had noticed and were crawling over to him. They hugged him and Magnus finally allowed himself to truly cry.

"Did you hear that, Pa?" Rafe whispered. "He felt cursed. You freed him. He could breathe easily because of you."

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cherrycheridarling · 3 years

Text

happier | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: swearing and sad. fluff if you squint

summary: you wish tom the best with his new relationship in your new song. {listen to happier by olivia rodrigo (if you want)}

wc: 3.6k

'We broke up a month ago,'

"I've been thinking," your heart sunk at his words, "I'm always working." he grabbed both of your hands.

You locked your gaze in his. Sat in the living room of his shared flat. Inches apart yet you could already feel the separation between the two of you growing.

He avoided your eye contact, "I-I can't be in a relationship unless I can give one hundred percent of myself to the other person. A-and I know I haven't been doing that to you, which is c-completely unfair." he wiped away a tear from your cheek that you didn't know had fell, "You've been so, so good to me. I'm sorry I wasn't better, but I can't keep putting you through this." his voice was barely audible.

You finally tore your eyes away from his face. His tear soaked face. Choosing to stare at a spot over his shoulder instead. You took three deep breaths. In and out. Something about his words made you confused, but your pain overpowered it.

"Please say something. Anything." he whispered against your knuckles. Holding your hands to his lips.

You gently removed your hands from his grip, "Thank you for being mature and honest with me." you started with a sniffle, "Thank you for all of our memories and for showing me what love is," you cupped his face, "Thank you for everything, loser." your light laugh lacked any humour, but it still brought a slight smile to his face.

He held your hand that was resting on his jaw, "I love you more than life itself, darling." he kissed your palm and you felt your heart shatter. "Never hesitate to call, dummy."

You nodded with a sad smile. "I love you, too." You stood up and made your way out of the door. A year and a half down the drain within ten minutes.

'Your friends are mine, you know I know you moved on. Found someone new.'

"Do you guys wanna do something on Saturday? I don't have work. Maybe karaoke?" you asked the group without looking up from your phone.

Harrison made a confused noise, "Did you forget? We have Nadia's birthday par—" you heard a loud smack, "—Ow! What? Oh, shit."

You looked up to see Zendaya, Jacob, Harry, Sam and Tuwaine all glaring at Harrison.

"Absolute div." Tuwaine muttered.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Who's Nadia?" you looked at all of them as they avoided eye contact. "Daya?"

She let out a long sigh before clearing her throat, "Um, Nadia is- Well she's kind of- you know, um—"

"—Tom's new girlfriend." Sam finished for her.

Your mouth formed an 'o' shape as you processed the information. His new girlfriend. It'd been a month and four days since he ended your relationship. And he had a new girlfriend.

It took him a month to move on. A month to be able to give a hundred percent of himself to someone.

You couldn't tell if you were more angry or sad. Maybe a mixture of both. Angry that your friends were hiding information from you, but at the same time you understood their intentions. Sad and upset because the boy who told you he wasn't ready to give a hundred percent of himself was already with someone new.

You slowly nodded, "Oh, okay. Well, I hope you guys have fun." you gave a tight lipped smile before looking back at your phone.

Everyone glanced at each other worriedly before allowing their gazes to fall on you again.

"How do you feel?" Jacob asked cautiously.

You locked your phone and set it on your lap, "I'm fine." you faked a smile, "I think I'm gonna head home, though. It's getting late and I have an early studio session. Bye." you quickly grabbed your purse and left with a small wave.

"Y/N! Wait—" the slamming of the front door cut Tuwaine off.

It was three p.m. and you weren't supposed to be in the studio until noon.

'One more girl who brings out the better in you,'

"Y/N/N. You need to talk about it sooner or later." Zendaya reminded you as she sat at the end of your bed with Harrison beside her.

You removed the covers from your face, revealing your tear stained cheeks, "Does she make him happy?"

There was silence from your two friends before they hesitantly nodded. Both weren't completely sure, but they assumed she did.

"Does she bring out the best version of him? Does she stroke his hair while they cuddle? Does she cook with him? Does she walk Tessa with him?"

Harrison sighed, "Y/N/N, we—"

"—Because that's what I did. I brought out the best side of him. I stroked his hair while we cuddled. I cooked with him. I walked Tessa with him. I did it all. Every single thing." your voice broke towards the end as you let the sobs rack through your body.

Harrison and Zendaya went to either side of you and held you. They just held you. Because even they didn't know what to do.

'And I thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past,'

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Zendaya asked as you walked towards Tom's front door.

You nodded and smoothed down your sundress, "Yeah. We ended on good terms. It's been two months or so. We're friends. Plus, I miss hanging out with all of us." you assured her.

She sighed before knocking on the door, "Alright."

A few moments later the door swung open revealing Tom. Dressed in black jeans and a white button-up. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Curls dangling over his forehead. A sweet smile on his lips.

You felt your stomach lurch. Air leaving your lungs involuntarily. Heart rate quickening. You could smell his cologne and every single memory with him clouded your mind.

"Hey! It's great to see you guys—"

"—Sorry. I-I think I left something in the car. One second." you rushed out the words before turning on your heel.

Zendaya let out a long sigh, "Fuck."

Tom frowned, "Did I do something wrong?"

'But she's so sweet, she's so pretty. Does she mean you forgot about me?'

"Y/N!" an unfamiliar voice called out to you from somewhere in the boys' backyard.

It was Harrison's annual barbecue get together. Nearly three months since your break up with Tom.

You turned towards the source of the noise and found a girl walking towards you. Brunette. Tight black dress with black heels. Body and face of a model.

"I've been dying to meet you! I'm such a huge fan. I basically live off of your music." she giggled as she hugged you.

You smiled, "Aw! Thank you! That means so much to me. You look amazing, by the way."

She laughed, "Thank you! But you're absolutely gorgeous! Sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Nadia, Tom's girlfriend."

Of fucking course.

You raised your eyebrows, but managed to keep a smile on your face, "Oh! I've heard so much about you! Well, Tom's one lucky guy," you chuckled, "I'd love to chat some more, but I need to use the washroom. Excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you." you gave her a hoaxed smile before quickly walking away.

You were two feet away from the washroom when Zendaya grabbed your arm, "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Your breaths were coming out in short puffs, "I just met Nadia?"

Her eyes widened before she dragged you towards Tuwaine's room, "Okay. Let's sit down."

'Oh, I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know. I can't let you go,'

"You should move in here." Tom mumbled against your shirt.

You let out a small laugh, "You already have four roommates, love. One more might turn this into a barn."

He lifted his head off of your chest, "I'm serious. Driving from Manchester to Kingston all the time is such a hassle for you. We have recording studios here and it would make me the happiest man in the world if I could wake up to your gorgeousness everyday." he planted kisses on your forehead, nose and lips.

You chuckled at his boyish grin, "It's only a three hour drive and I'm sure the boys don't want me imposing on your time with them."

He quickly shook his head, "I already talked to them about it and they want you here, too."

You raised your eyebrows, "Well, if you're sure it'll make you the happiest man in the world, I'll think about it."

"You already make me the happiest man in the world, but I needed something to convince you." he rested his head on your chest again as you laughed.

'So find someone great, but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.'

"Are we ordering pizza?" Harrison yawned from beside you on the couch.

"Sushi?" you grinned hopefully.

Tuwaine shook his head, "We had sushi last night."

"Tom and I are making dinner for you guys!" Nadia reminded you from the kitchen.

Her arms wrapped around Tom's waist as he stirred whatever was in the pan he had on the stove.

You really hated their open floor layout at that moment since there wasn't a wall to block them from your view.

"Oh, yeah. What're you making?" Sam asked.

"Salmon with rice and steamed veggies." Tom answered without looking up from the pan.

Everyone made noises of realization as you turned to Harry, "Aliens or a tiger. Which do you think you could beat in a fight?" he asked.

You laughed before replying, "Hmm, depends. Are the aliens small or—"

"Tommy!" you heard a girly giggle and turned to see Tom with Nadia over his shoulder as they laughed and ran around the kitchen.

You quickly diverted your gaze to the coffee table. Forgetting about Harry's absurd question. All eyes were on you.

"What?" you asked when you finally looked up at your friends.

"Are you okay?" Harrison frowned from beside you before resting his head on your shoulder.

You let out a dry, quiet laugh, "Of course. As long as he's happy."

The looks of pity you received were almost as painful as the scene you witnessed moments ago.

'And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean,'

"Premiere day!" Zendaya walked into your shared hotel room with a bright smile, Nadia following behind her.

You faked a smile as you applied another coat of mascara, "You girls look gorgeous."

Zendaya was in a red and black sequin gown. Hair down and heels on. Nadia was dressed in a maroon silk dress with a slit on the side. Black heels dawning her feet. Both had makeup and accessories on matching their attire.

You were in an emerald green gown with a slit running down your left leg. Silver heels and silver jewellery to match.

"So do you!" Nadia exclaimed as she sat on Zendaya's bed.

"Are the boys coming soo—" Zendaya got cut off by three loud knocks on the door.

"I'll get it!" Nadia jumped up and opened the door.

Tom was stood before her in a maroon suit. Matching her dress. Black dress shoes. Matching her heels. Glasses on and a bright smile.

You watched as Tom ran his eyes down Nadia's outfit, "Well, aren't you just the most beautiful girl in the world?" he planted a kiss on her lips as you witnessed with envy.

"Aw, Tommy. I love you."

"I love you more, darling." he grinned before looking behind her.

Heart wrenching pain struck you again.

You watched as his mouth fell open by the slightest bit. Eyes growing wider.

He quickly snapped out of his daze, placing a pearly white smile on, "You two look absolutely stunning."

You acknowledged his compliment with a curt nod.

Zendaya let out a laugh, "Yup. About to out do you at your own premiere."

'Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?'

"Green or white?" you held up both dresses against your body.

Tom looked up from his phone, "Both of them will look amazing on you, love."

You sighed, "I appreciate the compliment, but I am meeting Sebastian Stan tonight. Now is not the time for indecisiveness. One of them will make me look bad and I need to know which one."

The Infinity War premiere was in two hours and your anxiety was growing by the minute.

"C'mere." he motioned you towards him with a 'come hither' gesture as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You made your way towards him. Standing in between his legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "You are the most beautiful girl in the world. Absolutely gorgeous. You could make the ugliest dress look like something from a fairytale."

Your smile grew as he kissed your stomach, "Thank you, mi amor." you bent down and placed a peck on his forehead, leaning your head against his, you whispered, "Now, green or white?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips, "White."

You smiled before making your way to put on the white dress, "I love you."

"I love you more, darling."

'And now I'm picking her apart. Like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart. But she's beautiful, she looks kind. She probably gives you butterflies.'

"I don't like her." you murmured.

Zendaya chuckled, "Nadia? You barely know the girl."

You nodded, "And I don't like her. I don't like her giggles and her nickname for him. I don't like her hair."

You knew you were looking for things to dislike, but there weren't any. She was a fan of your music, she complimented you all the time. She was genuinely a great person.

She sighed, "No, you don't like the fact that she's dating Tom. If she wasn't, you wouldn't be saying any of this."

You rolled your eyes and glared at her, "Can you let me be angry?"

She laid herself down on your mattress, "Nope. If you wanna be angry, be angry at Tom. Nadia hasn't done anything to you. You're better than this."

"God, I hate your optimistic side sometimes." you threw a pillow at her.

She laughed, "One of us needs to be the optimist."

You sighed, "Do you think he misses me?"

"Yes." she replied without hesitation.

You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows, "What makes you say that?"

She let out a long breath, "You need to talk to him about that."

'I hope you're happy. I wish you all the best, really. Say you love her, baby. Just not like you loved me. And think of me fondly when your hands are on her. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.'

"And you're dead." you dropped the controller on your lap as you defeated Harrison in Super Smash Bros again.

He huffed like a child, "Unfair. I taught you how to play, how'd you get better than me?"

"Actually, I taught her how to play. And I am ten times better than you." Tuwaine corrected him.

Harrison scoffed, "Whatever. Sweaty nerds, the both of you."

Nadia spoke up from Tom's lap, "Can I try?"

You nodded, "Who do you wanna go against?"

She chuckled, "I think I'll verse Harrison. Seeing as how Y/N just kicked your ass, I wanna at least have a chance."

Her comment made you laugh as you handed her the controller and watched them pick their characters. You watched as Tom set his phone down and focused on the screen where his girlfriend chose Pichu.

"Choose Kirby." Tom told her.

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Why? Pichu is so cute."

"Y/N always plays as Kirby and she always wins. With that stupid power absorbing ability." he chuckled as his eyes landed on you.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the small detail he remembered before you played it off with a light laugh, "Not my fault you thought Luigi could beat Kirby everytime we played."

'Ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo,'

You pressed on the keys of the piano in the boys' home. Singing your heart out. You still had your spare key and Harrison told you no one was home.

You were waiting for them to return from golfing so you could have your Sunday night dinners. It's been nearly four months since your breakup with Tom. Your album was due to be released on May twenty-first and you were letting the still evident pain fuel your lyrics.

"I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know. I can't let you go. So find someone great, but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier." you faded out the piano and pressed stop on the recording on your phone.

Writing down small notes about the song and things to tweak, your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"I'm not."

Your head snapped up. Tom was leaning against the doorframe behind you. Tears escaping his eyes.

"T-Tom. I'm sorry. Haz told me the house was empty and I just started playing and- Wait. What did you say?" realization dawned on you.

He stepped closer and sat beside you on the piano bench, "I'm not happier. Hell, I'm not even happy." he gave a pathetic attempt at a laugh, staring straight at the black and white keys.

Your mind was trying to catch up with everything happening, trying to register his words, the state he was in. Grey sweats, black tee. Messy hair and red eyes.

"Why?"

He released a heavy sigh, "There's so many things you could be asking 'why' about. Why did I break up with you? Why am I with Nadia? Why am I not happy? Why the hell am I crying? Which one is it, Y/L/N?"

You blinked a few times, "All of them."

He sniffled and rubbed his face, "I felt like I was holding you back." he started, catching a glimpse of your confused expression, he continued, "You hadn't released any music in over year. There were so many articles saying that I was the reason that the biggest pop star in the world was quitting music. I didn't want to be the reason for that."

"You weren't and you aren't." you assured him.

He shrugged, "I just felt like you would do a lot better without me. And you are. Look at you, your fifth album is coming out next month." he nudged you with his shoulder, "I'm proud of you," he smiled.

"T-thank you."

He nodded, "Anyways, why am I with Nadia? Um, a few days after we broke up, I went to a friend's place to distract myself, as one does. She was there. She was a distraction. I never meant for it to get this far. You know, she actually asked me to be her boyfriend." he chuckled dryly to himself as you listened intently. "I guess, I thought it'd be easier to move on if I had something else to pour my love into?"

You nodded slowly, "Okay, I somewhat get that. So you really do love her?"

He quickly shook his head, "No, no, I don't. I mean, I can't. No one can truly love two people at once. And I think that answers the question of why I'm not happy." he paused and faced you completely, "I'm crying because hearing that song and hearing how evident your pain in it is, that will make anyone cry. I'm crying because I miss you and I miss us. I-I miss what we had and what we were. I miss your kisses and your stupid jokes that only you laugh at. I miss going on walks with you and Tess. I just miss you."

There was a long period of silence after his confession. You were trying to process all the information he was giving. He was cursing himself for being so straightforward. The longer it went without a response from you, the more anxious he got. He grabbed your hands, holding them to his lips.

"Please say something. Anything."

Déjà vu.

You swallowed, "You want honesty?" he nodded, "Okay, I was so mad at you. I-I was infuriated. Y-you told me you weren't ready to give a hundred percent of yourself and that you couldn't be in a relationship until you could give all of yourself to that person. Then a month later, you're with her. Making me feel like you just couldn't give yourself to me." you paused and shook your head, "You could've told me the truth. You should've told me the truth. We could've talked about it. We could've avoided months of awkward run ins and no communication." he nodded, still holding your hands in his, "I'm not gonna lie and say I don't miss you because I do, I miss you more than anything, but we shouldn't be doing this or saying these things while you're with her." you removed your hands from his.

He spent a moment looking down at his fingers. Releasing short breaths. "I don't want to be with her."

"But you are. And I don't want you to break up with her for me. Because that's not how things work, Tom. But you shouldn't stay with her either. Especially if this is how you're feeling. That's just unfair to her." you shook your head and felt your mind clear.

He nodded and met your gaze, "This is the end of us, huh?"

You shook your head, "I don't think there will ever be an end to us." you laughed dryly.

He agreed with a smile, "For forever and a day, remember?"

You nodded, "For forever and a day."

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

Text

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #torres x reader #joaquín torres #joaquin torres #torres x y/n #joaquin torres x you #joaquín torres x you #joaquín torres x y/n #torres x you #joaquin torres x y/n #fatws fic #tfatws fic #joaquin torres fic #joaquín torres fic #torres fic #marvel fic

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baka-monarch · 2 years

Text

Without Dream

Dream stood there, staring down at a peaceful face. Their eyes were closed and their breathing was slow. He looked so… happy. Dream thought. It'd been so long since he's seen George this happy, both because of the prison and because of… what he did. His king was so happy when he was asleep, the knight mused and gently moved some stray hairs out of George's face. He didn't know how much time he had, everyone in Kinoko were all busy at the moment, but he truly didn't know how long it'd be before they came to check on George. Dream was on a time limit, and he didn't know how long it was.

"He's hot, isn't he." Dream held back a yelp as he jumped and spun around with his sword out. The god didn't react. "Long time no see Dream."

"Same to you," He sheathed his sword. "XD." The god was sitting in a chair that looked too pristine to be something that would've been in George's room before, sitting there nonchalantly and holding a glass of red wine- or was it blood? Dream didn't know, and didn't really care. "What're you doing here?"

"What, can't I visit my favorite mortal?" XD sipped from the glass, standing and waving the chair to disappear as he did.

Dream scoffed. "Favorite mortal? I've been through hell because of you, I hardly think-"

"I wasn't talking about you." The god calmly cut him off. It walked over to stand next to Dream and pushed some hair behind George's ear. Oh.

"Don't touch him." Dream pulled XD's hand away, and grimaced as they giggled.

"Oh calm down, I'd never hurt your little king~" XD flicked Dream's nose. "If anything I'm helping him to be happier!"

"What does that mean…?" Dream hesitantly asked.

"Dreams. I've been giving him good dreams while you've been gone." Dream looked down at George at XD's words, and started playing with their hair a bit as he thought.

"What…. What is he dreaming about now?" Did Dream even want to know?

"Killing you." XD answered shortly and Dream's breath hitched as he quickly took a step away from George's bed. "If it makes you feel any better he's about to kill me too." The god shrugged.

"Wha- what… but-" But what had Dream done?

"But what? You dethroned him, betrayed him, lied to the whole server, killed Tommy- and Sapnap told him about how you don't care." XD took another sip of the liquid that was getting darker by the second. "Why should he care about you?"

"I… I did that for him- for everyone! I don't- I care about him!" Dream pushed his twin to the floor, their glass shattering, and seethed angrily. All XD did was look back up at Dream with an unimpressed look.

"You broke my glass." XD played there. Making no move to stop Dream.

"I- you- fuck you." Dream sat up and looked away.

"I don't know why you're reacting like this, you already knew all of this." XD sat up and shrugged, a new glass in his hand now. A Martini. If Dream looked he knew there would be faces in it.

"I know…." The knight hugged himself.

"Right. But that's why you're here." XD stood up, sipping his new drink. "You want to explain things to him." Dream didn't answer. "You want him to care again. To be back on your side." XD put a hand on Dream's head, ignoring how they flinched. "Tell me, what were you going to say? What could you possibly say to make him believe that you're not the villain you pretend to be?"

Dream stared at the floor, still hugging himself as he thought. What could he say? 'Hey sorry about ruining your life and everyone else's lives! Wanna join me to do it more?' no… George would probably hate him more for that, and with Sapnap wanting him dead… he didn't want to think about that.

"Just shut up and leave…" Dream whispered. He didn't even need to say that though, because XD was already gone.

Dream stood from the floor and cleaned the room of any trace he might've been there. Before he left he stood over George's sleeping form again and looked down at them sadly. They were so happy and peaceful… Without him. George would be better if he stayed here, without Dream and without getting pulled into whatever he had planned.

Dream pulled out a blue rose from his inventory and left it in George's hands, then left, never to return to Kinoko again unless he had to.

…

Later, George put a rose into a flower pot, then went about his day in Kinoko.

#mcyt #dream smp #c!dnf #c!dreamnotfound #c!dream #c!george #dreamxd #dxd #xdnf

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manjiropie · 3 years

Text

do whatever is in your mind.

Young Mikey x Reader!

Warn! no warnings today! enjoy!

It's not often Mikey and I have a quarrel. We do bicker here and there, but that's what happens between friends, right?

I've joined Toman for almost a year now– although I've known Manjiro for much longer. I met him through Emma, who is a big friend of mine for as long as I can remember. She was there for me at times when I felt like there was no exit, no light. She's an extremely important part of my life– of me.

I've come to realize that I have been spending more and more time near Mikey, which is not bad, I do enjoy his presence. He may look tough and intimidating but he's just like a mochi: freezing cold on the outside but melting saccharine inside. Now that I'm a part of the gang and actually get to know and participate, I've gotten closer to him. Here and there Mikey invites me out.

"So, it's like a date?" I'd smirk suggestively at him.

"In your dreams." He'd try to hide his smile and he'd look away.

However, there are a few little habits he has that tend to send me on a rage trip. I get mad easily. Things will likely set on fire quickly. It's not that I want to, but my mother is not one of the most patient people in the world and she tells me to cool down. As if.

This last week was the cherry on top.

Mikey had crossed the line. He had pissed me off in every single way possible. He pretended not to listen to me while he was eating. He would answer me in a "oh, I don't really fucking care about what you're talking about!" way. He tripped while he was laughing hysterically at something Draken had said and his pink lemonade was all over my white shirt. He drew in an assignment that was due to the next day for my math class. He told me off for no reason at all in front of everyone in the last Toman's meeting... all of that wasn't on purpose. I am aware of how incredibly short his attention spam is when it comes to not so important affairs. But, fuck, couldn't he just be a little nicer to me? At least during last week where I was having sharp cramps in my fucking uterus? Yeah, maybe he didn't know that because I try not to be so obvious. But when he told us we'd be training last thursday I almost laid on the ground in fetal position and cried for hours. I didn't! I fought and then went home and cried.

Then, this Saturday– today –he invited me to his house to hang out. Emma was with a friend and his grandfather was out of town. When he called me to his house we never did much. We'd watch TV, hang out on the couch discussing stupid stuff, we'd be on our phones... nothing so wow. It was still fun, though.

I wasn't in the best mood to leave my comfy bed but I was way less in the mood to fight him off over the phone. So I slid out of the bed and dressed the first jeans I saw laying on the end of my bed and the oversized Nirvana shirt hanging off my chair (it's actually my dad's shirt, shhh).

I knocked twice on his bedroom's door.

"Come in." He yelled from inside. I open the door and he's laying on the bed, his head hanging off of it and his hair is almost touching the floor. His face lit up and he rolled over so he laid on his stomach. I walk over and sit down beside him.

"What's up with the frown?" I didn't notice I was frowning to be honest. Guess the bad mood followed me here.

I shrug.

"Ugh, don't tell me you're in a bad mood." He whines. "I called you here to chill and you're already angry. What's up?" He lays on his pillow and swings his legs to place them on my lap. I huff and shove them off, getting up.

"You've been treating me like shit the whole week and now you wanna chill?" I say, more calm than I thought.

"I did not treat you like shit this week? When do I treat you like shit?" His tone was one of disbelief and confusion.

"Ah, Mikey. Embarrassing me in front of the rest of gang; spilling your drink on my school shirt, which is now stained; ignoring me or answering like you're bored..." I list them off on my fingers. "I am the one who asks, what's up with you?! God, you're always being so unpredictable, which is good sometimes but not like this! Not to me!"

I flop down on the couch, starting to get tired of this whole thing. Knowing Mikey, I know that he'll not lay down again.

"So you're the only one allowed to have bad days now?" He sits on the edge of his bed and I turn my head around lazily, uninterested, bored, like him.

"You were laughing incredibly loud with Takemitchi and Draken friday."

"You can be so annoying sometimes."

"Oh, I'm the annoying one now?" I stand up.

"If you don't like my company, why did you even come in first place?" He also stands. We don't have much height difference, but he's hardly two inches taller than me.

His voice is calm, like always. Which makes me infuriated. "Fucking hell! Does it hurt for you to apologize!?" My sudden outburst takes him on surprise, and me, too.

"I already apologized, stop whining about it."

"I'm not whining–"

"If you weren't," he walks to his desk and sets a cup that was once beside his bed down. "You would've dropped this matter before."

"You don't give a damn about what I feel, do you, Mikey?"

"What?" He turns around, brows knit together.

"You heard me. You made me have a bad week and the least you could do is apologize, you dumbass!" I stomp to his direction.

"I already did! Why don't you–"

"Shut up or I'll punch you." I say, slightly looking up.

His eyebrows twitch and he slowly tilts his head to the side, like a puppy. "Or what.. ?"

"Are you fucking deaf?" I point to my ears.

He comes a little closer. "You're gonna do what if I don't shut up?"

"I'm going to punch you if you don't stop being a brat." I sneer at him. My blood boiling. The stress from this shitty past week overflowing in that moment.

"Oh, yeah?" I could feel his breath oh my nose.

"What? Are you doubting me? I would." I jerk up an eyebrow. I've never fought physically with him. But it's not like I can't.

"I'd like to see you try." His eyes flicker to my lips for a brief second and my breath fails, making me cough.

"What? Can't punch me?" He amuses.

"Fuck you."

Suddenly I feel an arm sneak around my waist and in a second I'm chest to chest with Mikey. My eyes widen– his were peaceful as ever, although superior.

"Do it." He says, looking down at me.

The way he's holding me is making my head spin. True, Mikey is cute...

"Do what?"

He laughs at my confused expression. "I don't know... what did you say you'd do to me?"

Ha ha.

His hold on me tightens.

"Do whatever is on your mind." He says.

My eyes roam free between his eyes and his soft pink lips. Do whatever is on your mind.

If he knew what was on my mind, would he still allow me to?

"Do it," he encourages me once again, "aren't you the 'oh so brave' one? Punch me, yell at me, do whatever you want to me."

Those words were the last push I needed. My hands find the soft skin of his neck, hidden by his long hair. I pull him close and lock our lips together. I feel him making a little sound, I don't know if it was surprise or relief.

If by just looking at it his lips seemed soft, actually touching it felt like kissing cotton candy or guessing cloud shapes.

He didn't pull back, in fact, he held me with both hands. I have no clue how he did that but it seemed as though all of my worries dissipated as we kissed.

My heart was beating so fast that it made my chest hurt. My head started to pound when I spent a little too long without air. I pull back from his lips and keep my gaze on them as I breathe heavily.

"Hm." He hums quietly, almost dreamily if you'd ask me.

I look up at his face and smile a bit, noticing how his cheeks are pink. I lift an eyebrow up as if asking what he was thinking. He shakes his head and then puts his right hand on my cheek, caressing it. He kisses me again. This time is slower. As though being present in the moment. As if it were just me and him and nothing else.

----------

I hope you guys liked It! It was so pleasant writing this out of the small bits of ideas that I have. Don't forget: my requests are open. You can request anything! Thank you for reading! Oh, likes and reblogs help a lot! If you consider following it'd make me even happier <3

#fuck this is so cute #mikey x reader #young mikey #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey sano #mikey x you #tokyo revengers #baji #tokyo manji gang #tokyo rev #manjiro sano #mikey #tokrev

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lastknownstatus-alive · 2 years

Note

WHoa I love your art, mate they are so gorgeous. Also, I was reading back a comic you did that had Donnie snooping his way to Leo's bed and another about Leo's conservation with April. I then wondered if you had any thoughts of like Donnie apologizing to Leo making him feel that way or like Leo confessing how he actually feels to Don...Sorry for the long question, also hope you have a good day and keep doing what your doing cause ur art is muah, chef's kiss!

(for ppl interested here's the link to the first and second comics)

ty for the kind words! and also for the interest in my thoughts - reading this reminded me of how i just. unfortunately never got around to drawing that fight, bleh lmao

i think they'd end up talking about it a little - donnie would realize why leo's been so weird around april and would try to apologize (it'd be awkward and not that great, but hearing it alone would be enough for leo) and leo would shed some light on the subject but probably not to the extent he would to april, wouldn't go that indepth about it because he thinks it's a little pathetic that he's upset that his bro found someone to hang out with that isn't just his sibling. but i don't think they'd be able to go back to the way things were before. like, although they would have made amends, it doesn't change the fact that things are just...different, now, between them. maybe they'd try at first - all three of them hang out - but it doesn't stick and it's just something they just have to keep going from. donnie and april are best friends and leo's...not a part of that. that's life.

(i'd like to think that april still has a little part inside of her that feels bad about disrupting their relationship despite what leo says to her)

sdkjfhh this answer's probably longer than you expected but this ask reminded me abt my obsession w/ that headcanon so thanks! wish i could draw more abt that but drawing is hard and i am tired

edit: oop i forgot i was looking through to see if i did have anything related to don and leo talking and uh. i got this blurb ig?

#(have a nice day as well!)#'same insecurity!' tag #rottmnt #ask

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.

"bitch," you mutter under your breath.

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him.

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing."

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done.

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement.

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!"

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.

"do you really want to know why?"

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

#hmu if i missed a warning #yandere doyoung #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #tw swearing #tw manipulation #tw violence #tw knife

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