#I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwilsonbarness · 10 months

Text

i can't do this anymore

pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader

summary: You overhear Bucky’s conversation with your friends and assume the worst but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

warnings: ANGSTTT, fluffy ending, mention of marriage, more angst “I’m sorry i can’t help it), miscommunication.

word count: 3665

a/n: I’m in serious need of miscommunication fics (I'm a sucker for angst) so I’d be grateful for any recommendations!! Enjoy <3

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

“Buck? Can you pass my clothes?” You had just stepped out of the shower and realised you left your clothes in your room, but Bucky didn’t answer. “Buck?” He still didn’t answer so you wrapped your towel around you and headed through to see the room empty. You begin to get dressed before you hear Sam’s voice from the living room, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. Every week Bucky and Sam took it in turns to host dinner for the three of you and Sam’s girlfriend, Olivia. This week was yours and Bucky’s turn to host and you were super excited to serve your new recipe. Hearing the voices made you even more excited, but stressed as you still had some cooking to do before they were supposed to be here. You finish getting dressed and apply a little bit of makeup as quickly as you can. These dinners weren’t formal so it didn’t take long to get ready, they were mostly just so Sam and Bucky had some comfort after their missions, especially recently with them having to deal with John Walker. You take one last look in the mirror before heading through, until you hear something that stops you in your step.

“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised.. one look at you two and it’s obvious,” Sam tried to whisper but failed. “how are you gonna do it?” Do what? You were confused what they were talking about, part of was tempted to interrupt but your curiosity took over.

“I don’t know.. It’s just..” Bucky was stuttering which he only did when he was nervous, this really made you worry about what they were talking about. “It’s just she’s different from other girls, you know? And I know we haven’t been together that long but I can’t do it anymore. Do what anymore? “It’s not like I don’t love what we have but I just feel like I need more” More? You couldn’t help but overthink what you were hearing. They were talking about you, you weren't enough for him. I mean sure you’d thought that about yourself so many times but hearing it from the man you truly thought was the love of your life hurt.

“I know what it’s like when you find the one, it’s the best feeling in the world.” You couldn’t see this but Sam had kissed Olivia’s head after his words. “This is gonna be good for you man, I’m happy for you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to hear anymore, the tears were already fighting their way out. You quietly walk back into your bedroom and try and calm down, you just had to get through tonight, just tonight and then you and Bucky could talk. You were at your happiest with Bucky, you thought Bucky was too but.. you didn’t even want to finish that thought. Bucky’s happiness was the most important thing to you, and if that meant he wasn’t with you anymore you would have to find a way to get through that. No matter how hard it would be for you, you just wanted him to be happy.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, your eyes were red and a little puffy but not enough for anyone to notice. You hoped anyway. This time when you left your bedroom you made sure to close the door loud enough so they could hear you coming and hopefully change the subject.

“Hey guys, you’re early.” you said as you walked in, Sam and Olivia both stood up to give you a hug as you came in.

“Yeah sorry we were just a couple blocks over and it didn’t make sense going all the way back home just to come out again,” Sam replied with a smile. “Buck said it was okay.”

“Of course it is, you guys are always welcome, you know that!” You were surprisingly good at keeping how you really felt hidden, but with your words you couldn’t help but think you would lose Sam and Olivia as friends when Bucky ended things between you, they were technically Bucky’s friends first but you’d grown to see them as practically family as your relationship grew. You tried to push that thought away, you just had to get through tonight you kept repeating to yourself in your head.

“You okay doll?” Bucky asks as he wraps his arms around you. You plaster on a smile hoping he wouldn’t sense anything being wrong.

“Course! Just need to check on the food.” Normally Bucky’s touch helped you in situations like this but with what you heard his touch was only making you feel worse. You manage to untangle yourself from his arms and head to the kitchen. You notice that the ingredients and glasses were still laying out for the drinks you’d planned to make. “Do you guys want any drinks?”

“Yes please!” Sam and Bucky replied at the same time.

“I’ll help you.” you heard Olivia say through the wall. It only takes a couple seconds before she’s standing next to you in the kitchen. You and Olivia were like best friends, and she’s the reason you and Bucky were together. You had worked together for a few years, you drifted a little when she left that job but it only took one reunion dinner to get your friendship back to normal. That was 2 years ago, and from that night on she had insisted on setting up you and Bucky. It took a while for the meeting to actually happen but once it did you knew he was the one for you. Was. Not anymore.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks quietly, she was aware of Bucky’s super soldier hearing and wanted to talk to you alone.

You nodded and forced another smile. “Just a busy week, my boss is still being a dick.”

“Ugh, you deserve so much better than having to work for that guy. He’s a creep.” She said at a normal volume now. “You should send Bucky after him, make him know he can’t treat you like that just cause he’s the boss.” She brings her hands up to put air quotes around ‘boss’, as he’s only technically the boss for the month while your real boss was on vacation.

“I’ll manage.” You tried to play it off, you wouldn’t have Bucky there to help you soon, and you needed to stand up for yourself.

“You know he would do anything for you.”

“You think?”

“Yep. I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“Hmm.” you mumbled. “Here,” You pass her two glasses with drinks in it. “take these and I’ll bring the other two once i’ve checked the food.”

“Okay,” She starts to walk about but turns at the last minute, “It smells good by the way, I can’t wait.”

“Thanks” you laughed as she walked away. She could tell there was something different with you tonight but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, it felt like it was more than just your boss being a dick.

You tried to take as long as you could checking the food without it being too long that someone would notice. After just under 10 minutes you walk through. “Dinner should only be a little longer.” You pass a glass to Bucky and keep one for yourself, normally you’d sit close to Bucky but tonight you kept your distance, opting for the armchair in the corner. Bucky thought this was weird but he kept it to himself.

“So, what did I miss?” You hoped they would somehow be able to explain away what you heard but your hope didn’t last long as they started to talk about Sam’s plans to get a lizard.

“Sam, we’re not getting a lizard,” Olivia replied, “if you insist on getting a pet why can’t it be a normal one like a cat or a dog.” This only reminded you of the plans you and Bucky made to adopt a cat, this was torture. Everything was reminding you of what you were about to lose.

“I’ll look after it babe, you won’t even have to touch it.” Sam tried pleading.

“And when you’re away on missions?” Olivia argued back playfully.

“Okay, you got me.” You laughed a little at Sam releasing this was one battle he was going to lose. “What about you guys? You still planning on getting a cat?”

Bucky looked at you as Sam asked the question, how were you supposed to answer this when you didn’t even know the answer anymore, luckily Bucky notices the panic on your face and jumps in to answer.”

“Yeah man, we just have to find the time to get to the shelter.”

“See,” He turns his head to his left, staring at his girl, “Y/n let’s Bucky get the pet he wants.” He was only teasing, he knew logically he couldn’t get a lizard but it was fun to pretend.

“Lizards and cats are not the same thing.”

“Y/n/n help me out here please” Sam pleads to you.

“Sorry Sam, I’m on Olivia's side here.” You reply whilst laughing.

“Traitor” he mumbles under his breath making everyone laugh. Bucky noticed it wasn’t your real laugh but he wasn’t sure why. Normally you loved bantering back and forth with them.

You kept on chatting for 20 minutes before the oven timer went off, just in time as Bucky was about to tell an embarrassing story about you.

“Ah! Saved by the bell” you joked.

“Don’t think I won’t forget to tell it after dinner!” Bucky shouts through, and you can’t help but laugh before thinking about it deeper. Was that one of the things he couldn’t do anymore, was he really embarrassed by you?

You tried so hard to push those thoughts away and focus on getting through the dinner, you started plating up the food you were so excited about only an hour before. But you got lost in your thoughts again and picked up the hot tray with your bare hand, burning yourself in the process. “Shit.” The tray fell to the floor, luckily you had already plated everything and you were just moving it to the sink. Bucky rushes through and sees the tray on the ground and you gripping your hand towards your chest.

“What happened?” He comes towards you but you walk back away from him. “What’s wrong?” You could see the worry in his eyes but all you could think about was his words earlier. I can't do it anymore.

“I’m fine, Bucky.” You didn’t mean to but you snapped back at him.

“You’re not fine.” he moves closer and tries to reach for your hand but you pull it closer to you, he notices and steps back. “Y/n?” You don’t say anything. “Look please just run your hand under some cold water at least, please?”

“Can you just take the food through, I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but he could hear it. This brought him back to the start of your relationship, you both struggled to open up to each other but he thought you had both gotten better at it, which is why he was extra worried.

He nodded, you hated yourself for being the reason he was sad, he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay doll, just know I’m here for you okay?” You nodded but kept your gaze to the floor. He first grabs the tray with his left hand and puts it in the sink then picks up the plates and brings them through, having to make two trips. He doesn’t want to leave you but he wants to give you the space you asked for. You run your hand under the cold tap for a couple of minutes before drying it off and making your way to the table.

“You okay y/n?” Sam asks as you sit down next to Bucky, there were only 4 seats at the table so sitting next to him was your only option. Bucky turns to you, concern filling his eyes, he sends a smile your way and you try to send one back. He went to put his hand on your thigh but you see him stop himself and bring it back to his leg.

“Yeah, all good, just burnt my finger on a tray. How’s the food?”

“It’s amazing as always.” Olivia answers.

“Thanks again for having us over.” Sam adds

“It’s a new recipe, and no need to thank me. You know you are both welcome here anytime.” You reply, happy that they like it.

“Tastes great Doll.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost like he was scared to speak, he had a slight smile growing as you turned to him.

“Thank you Bucky.”

The rest of the night went just like that, the four of you spoke about planning a trip to New Orleans, you felt yourself get excited about it but then grounded yourself, reminding yourself that it probably wouldn’t go ahead. Well, it maybe would, you just wouldn’t be there. Sam and Olivia stayed for a couple more hours, they couldn’t stay as late as usual as Olivia had picked up an early shift at work the next day. When they left you saw Sam and Bucky whisper something to each other, but you were too far to hear anything.

Now you and Bucky were alone, it had just been the two of you for 10 minutes and none of you had broken the silence until now.

“Y/n?” Bucky asks quietly, testing the atmosphere. You took the shakiness in his voice as a sign he was angry, when it was really because he was worried about you. You don’t say anything but bring your head up so you could see him. “Can we talk?” Oh god. This was it. He was gonna do it right now. You weren’t ready, you never would be but you couldn’t do this right now.

“Bucky, I’m really tired, could we talk in the morning?” You were desperately hoping he would say yes.

“Yeah..” He stands up and walks towards the bathroom, stopping slightly at you but speeds up again after a moment. “I’m gonna quickly shower then I’ll come to bed.”

“Okay.” Almost a whisper but he heard it.

You go through to your room and get changed, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. That was something you’d worry about tomorrow. You crawled into bed, facing the wall and tried to force the sleep to take over. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come in next to you, you feel him hesitate but he wraps his arms around you and brings his mouth around to kiss your forehead. “I love you.”

You hoped he’d think you were sleeping, and not know you were pretending. You tried to find comfort in his touch but it only reminded you that this time tomorrow you probably wouldn’t have him wrapped around you. You could feel your eyes growing wetter as you thought about this but you forced yourself to stop before it turned into a full meltdown. That would for sure wake Bucky up. So you sat there in silence, sometimes you could hear a quiet mechanical murmur from Bucky’s arm, and sometimes the one big deep breath he takes every few minutes. By the time morning comes you only got about an hour of sleep, you were exhausted and anxious for what was going to happen today.

“Doll?” he pauses for a minute waiting for an answer, “Are you up?”

“Yeah, I'm up.” You don’t turn around to face him like you normally would, you keep your eyes on the wall.

“I was thinking we could go to your favourite cafe today? The one with the-” You interrupt him and turn around to face him, sitting cross legged.

“It’s okay Bucky.” He’s confused about what you mean so he stays quiet hoping you'll continue which you do. “I heard you talking with Sam and Olivia..” Bucky’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You heard us?” Shit. He wanted it to be a surprise.

“I did. So can you just do it now? Get it over and done with, so we can both move on.”

“What? You want me to do it right now?”

“Yes. Please, just do it.” You knew you were coming across harsh but you needed this torture to end.

“Erm. Okay..” He stood up out of bed and walked over to his dresser, and started to dig through one of his drawers. “This isn’t really how I pictured doing this and I thought you’d be more excited but..” Excited? Why would you be excited over losing him? Once he finds what he was looking for he walks back over and brings himself down to his knees beside the bed.

“Bucky what-”

“My turn to talk doll..” What the hell was happening. “Y/n, you have been the best thing in my life since the very first day I met you. It might sound cliche but you’re the missing piece I always thought I’d never find. I know this might seem fast but..” He pulls a small box from behind his back. Oh my god. He was proposing. What. You wanted to stop him but the words wouldn’t come out, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “.. I don’t think I could ever feel happier than I do right now with you but It would mean the absolute world to me if you-”

“Wait!! Stop!” Bucky’s smile dropped. He’d been scared to ask you but he didnt think rejection was actually a possibility.

“What?” You stood up and started pacing back and forth, panic setting in.

“Oh my god Bucky. Stand up!” He stood up slowly and closed the ring box, the loud click making things even realer. “Bucky, what were you talking about with Sam and Olivia?”

“I thought you heard me? I was telling them I wanted to propose, I want to spend the rest of my time with you. This definitely isn't how I wanted it to go. I’m sorry if I.. I thought you’d want this too.”

“Oh my god Bucky. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed up.” You were beginning to lose control of your breathing and your eyes were starting to burn, you were still pacing back and forth. “I thought you wanted to end things, I thought you were done with us.”

“What?! Why did you think that?” He had never been so confused in his whole life.

“You told them you wanted more, and.. that I wasn’t like other girls.. and..” The tears had escaped now and it was hard to talk properly. “and you said you couldn’t do this a-anymore.”

“Oh baby.” Bucky walks over to you and pulls you gently to the bed, he sits next to you but keeps one of his arms wrapped around you. “I did say those things but not in the way you think. Did you listen to the rest of what we said?” You shook your head, which only made your growing headache worse. “When I said I wanted more I was talking about marrying you, in case you haven't figured that out by the -I don’t even know if i can call that a proposal- but doll, I want to marry you, I wanted to show you how much I love you and how serious I was about us.” He tries to turn himself slightly so he can see your face properly.

“I was right when I said you aren’t like other girls, I don’t want you to be like anyone else. I want you to be you, my girl. The girl I fell in love with the first day I met you. I’ve been planning to propose for a while but I couldn’t keep it in any longer, that’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you. I love you so much, doll.”

Oh god. You were so embarrassed. You had gotten everything so wrong. “Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want things to end with us. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay baby, really it’s okay. I just wished you’d talked to me about it. You can come to me about anything, you know what right?”

“I do, I promise. I just panicked. I thought I was going to lose you.” Your breathing had started to slow down and you felt like you had control over it again.

“Nope. You’re never getting rid of me. I love you too much for that,” He brought his face down to yours and brushed your noses together before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And I missed you way too much to ever let go of you again.”

“I love you too, Buck, so much.. but you’re squeezing me.” For the first time since you heard their conversation you had a real smile on your face and you laughed at him holding you so tight. You were happy. Bucky was happy.

“There’s the laugh I missed so much. Oh and,” he pulled away just for a second to look into your eyes, placing each of his hands on your shoulders and with a serious voice spoke again, “don’t for one second think that’s how my real proposal will go, I’m gonna make it special, just like you deserve.” he pulls you into his arms and lays you both down.

“I can’t wait, but before you do that..”

“Mhmm?”

“Can we go to the shelter today? I think it’s about time we got that cat.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me doll”

Maybe it wasn’t healthy how much yours and Bucky’s happiness relied on each other but for you two it worked. Things were perfect.

5K notes · View notes

owliellder · 8 months

Text

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?”

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.”

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.”

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass.

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table.

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen.

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

2K notes · View notes

yongility · 1 month

Text

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 3/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

a/n: I’m sorry this took too long to post!! 😭😭 but I been so busy with college rn, I’m going to graduate this year so I’m like having a lot of work lately, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I was writing so that was the reason it took longer than expected, sorry!

I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind l had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.

I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

The third day of the week arrived promptly, where (Y/N) found herself comfortably seated in one of the library chairs, with her chemistry books scattered on the table in front of her as she studied for the exams she had coming up, with Jungwoo beside her.

It was becoming her routine for the week; after last Friday's party, what she most desired was to avoid being at home, especially after having an argument with her mother when she returned from the party.

She didn't want to deal with her in a good time.

Annoyed that her mother had thought it was a great idea to take away her right to use her own car as punishment for disobeying her that night and leaving the house... staying in the library seemed the most pleasant option; with silence, able to listen to music through her AirPods, without her mother bothering her every five minutes and being able to review what she had learned in her last classes: it was something she could take advantage of. She took a sip of her vanilla latte, which had been sponsored by Jungwoo, who, in an attempt to apologize for abandoning her in that way during last Friday's party, promised to pay for each of her daily drinks for a week and a half, no matter the cost.

And even though (Y/N) could afford that or even triple, she was still happy about it. Gifted things tasted even better anyway.

Of course, she first gave Jungwoo a -no- beating after telling him everything that had happened during his absence, but still, she appreciated that her friend was okay even though she hadn't heard anything from him until Saturday night.

During these last few days, with a new routine, (Y/N) was almost always in the same places, at the same times, and if she was honest, she was surprised not to have bumped into Jung Jaehyun at any moment.

It was weird; she would normally see him somewhere around the school, either accompanied by Lucas or just sitting on one of the benches while smoking his 'n' cigarette of the day. But simply, since Friday, she hadn't heard anything from him... she hadn't even bumped into Lucas, which increased the level of strangeness, considering he was a social butterfly, he was always around. (Y/N) had been aware of her words after Jaehyun had taken her home: she could no longer continue with whatever deal they had, with all the stress of her own tasks and knowing that no matter what she did, her cousin wouldn't give up his addictions, it was best to give up.

Although it would hurt her soul to know that there was no way to help Daeho.

But thinking about it, she didn't know if she had really been sincere about each going their own way... apparently Jaehyun had taken it very seriously to not show up anywhere, and although (Y/N) knew very well that being close to him didn't bring her anything good... his presence hadn't been so bothersome in the last few days. Really, after sharing a few words and spending more time with him, she couldn't say that she disliked his existence. It was funny if you asked the (Y/N) from a month ago, there would be no way she could have imagined that, somehow, she would be related to none other than Jung Jaehyun, who, on the outside, just seemed to be one more problem.

She tried to stop thinking about it and tried to focus her gaze on the book in front of her, but after a few minutes... it was difficult for her. There was something inside her that made her feel uneasy but she couldn't think what it was.

"There’s a race in Kosmo today" her best friend's voice brought her out of her thoughts.

Kosmo was the neighborhood that was right in the middle of the city, dividing Kwangya and Neo Zone. (Y/N) knew that there were usually illegal races in that area because it was when the rich kids from Kwangya usually dared to compete against Neo Zone.

"And why should I care...?"

"Your cousin will go to bet," Jungwoo replied, interrupting her study session.

The girl opened her eyes in surprise and asked, "How do you know?"

"Daeho told Mingi, and Mingi told me," he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders. The boy fell silent for a moment and cleared his throat. "Don’t you want to go?" He asked curiously.

(Y/N) looked up from her books and observed her friend incredulously. "Why would I want to go?"

"To keep an eye on Daeho," he answered.

"I'm still mad with him, I've decided not to help him anymore. I really tried, I've been trying for the past few years, but he doesn't want help and now I understand," the girl confessed, closing her book and letting out a sigh.

"Still... don't you think it would be fun? Getting out of our comfort zone a bit... seeing what all this racing stuff is about. I've heard they're amazing," Jungwoo insisted.

"Jungwoo, my mom will kill me if she finds out I went to an illegal race," the girl continued, taking a sip of her coffee.

"She won't find out."

"Jungwoo..."

"Come on, (Y/N), we won't even be in Neo Zone, it'll be in Kwangya only. We'll go, watch the race, and leave. We won't even make contact with anyone. We'll go on our own," the boy assured her, moving closer to her. "Please, I think it would be interesting to break out of our routine, just for one night, what could go wrong?"

"Many things could go wrong, Woo," she replied.

"We won't know unless we try," he pouted, clasping his hands together. "Please."

She hated how persuasive her best friend was.

She sighed and shook her head. "Fine, but at the first sign of trouble, we're leaving without a second thought."

"I love you so much," Jungwoo replied, hugging her shoulders.

"And I really hate you."

______________________________________________

The night fell faster than she expected, and among the roar of engines and the intense music that could be heard on the outskirts of Kosmo, (Y/N) felt something cold run through her body.

She could see familiar faces here and there, some of her classmates from Kwangya were in the place, and from the opposite side, the cars and familiar faces of Neo Zone were present.

It was a strange atmosphere for her; she had always played it safe, and now she didn't even know what to think. She felt herself getting closer to Jungwoo to not lose him, the last thing she needed was for them to separate like they did at the party.

She didn't think she could survive alone.

And it's not that she was dumb to think otherwise, but her parents raised her in an environment where they made her believe that she shouldn't do things outside her daily life. (Y/N) was afraid of adventures. Her life was governed by being obedient and doing the right thing; she didn't know when the moment of rebellion she had a few days ago when she left home the night of the party had been wise.

And now finding herself in Kosmo secretly from her mother at an illegal race? She must have gone crazy.

She believed even more so that she had gone crazy when something inside her hoped to run into none other than Jung Jaehyun.

She didn't understand why the urgency of what was happening, and even less why she expected to run into Jaehyun before running into Daeho.

Maybe it was because she found it strange not to have seen him since last Friday's party.

But she knew that if there was one place Jaehyun wouldn't miss... it would be the race tonight.

"Are you looking for Daeho?" Jungwoo asked when he saw her looking around. "He's probably with Mingi."

How could she explain to her friend that the person she was looking for was none other than Jung Jaehyun?

She nodded without saying more, and they both continued on their way while cautiously observing their surroundings. The smell of marijuana and car engines was embedded in the place, the music made their ears ring, and the night breeze made their bodies tremble.

(Y/N)'s eyes drifted away when she noticed Lucas in the distance, having a conversation with another guy. Lucas felt her gaze on him and looked at the girl with confusion before approaching her after apologizing to his companion.

"Hey, Kwangya kiddos, what brings you here on this magnificent night?" Lucas asked enthusiastically.

"We wanted to know what these races are about," Jungwoo replied simply.

"Hmm, interesting," the tall guy nodded. "Well, you're in luck, Jaehyun will race today, are you sure you want to see the show? The best of the area against someone from Yellow Wood," Lucas explained while cracking his fingers slightly.

Upon hearing the guy's name, (Y/N) looked up and paid attention to Lucas's words.

"If you're interested in betting, come to me," Lucas advised.

"I think we're fine like this," said (Y/N).

"Alright, take care. I'll go look for my guy to get him ready for the race," Lucas announced as he patted Jungwoo on the back.

The guy walked away from them with a smile, and Jungwoo responded with one of his own, then he looked at his friend and frowned, "relax, you're anxious."

How could she not be?

But before she could even answer anything, a few meters away, she saw the familiar face she had been looking for. In the distance, the silhouette of Jung Jaehyun was leaning against his car while talking to a few guys from Neo Zone, his neck tattoos weren't very visible due to the darkness of the night but she could distinguish them a bit, then... as if he had called him, Jaehyun's gaze moved to connect with hers, making her freeze in place.

Jaehyun frowned when he saw her standing just a few steps away from him, looking like a lost puppy as she stood beside Jungwoo.

The sight reminded him of a month ago when Daeho had clumsily brought (Y/N) to Neo Zone. Although this time she was accompanied by her best friend, another rich and spoiled kid from Kwangya. He observed the outfit she had decided to wear, once again, just like that time, it wasn't extravagant, no famous brand could be seen in her attire, and the only piece of jewelry she wore was a pair of earrings that definitely looked like gold...

He hoped she wouldn't lose them tonight.

Because they made her look good.

The surprise was evident on the girl's face when she took a better look at the brunet's body, who was now walking towards her, wearing a hoodie with its hood over his head and as he got closer, the darkness of the night was no longer so intrusive. It hadn't been enough to hide the bruises that were scattered across his body.

There was one under his cheek, just below his left eye, and it was reddish, as if it were flushed. Then, looking at the ones between his jaw and his neck, she noticed how they subtly mixed with the ink of the tattoo he had on his neck. That one was difficult to distinguish thanks to the dark lines that adorned that part of his body, but if you paid enough attention, it was alarming.

When she lowered her gaze over his torso and then looked at his hands, she could see the intense shades of red that his knuckles contained, as if ground blood had accumulated on each of them.

It wasn't the first time she had seen Jaehyun or Lucas with a bruise or two on a school day, but it was the first time she had seen it up close.

Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Why was it suddenly doing this?

"Did you lost your way home?" Jaehyun asked when he was in front of her.

"Jaehyun," she muttered quietly, "... are you okay?"

The girl didn't need much to realize that was the stupidest question she could ask right now, of course he wasn't okay. And although she knew this happened regularly in Jaehyun's life, she couldn't help but fill her head with doubts; what had to happen for him to end up like this?

... was that the reason he hadn't gone to school?

A small smile appeared on the boy's face, and even with the different colors decorating his face, she could still notice the dimples that formed in it.

Why did he still look good?

"I don't think you came here to ask that, Angel," Jaehyun replied mockingly. "I really believed in your whole story about us going on our ways, so what are you doing at a race where most of the spectators are from Neo Zone?"

The girl was left speechless. "Jungwoo brought me here."

"Well, if that's the case, enjoy the races, I think it'll be fun for you to spice up your Wednesday nights a bit," he continued with a sarcastic smile.

"What happened to you?" She asked again.

Jaehyun didn't answer.

He had gotten himself into big trouble... all thanks to Jeno.

He had trusted that all his merchandise would be sold by the time Monday came around, but after being at Johnny Suh's party, where other dealers were also present, he didn't manage to sell what he needed.

He had a little less than half left in his pockets and in Lucas's.

Luck had not been on his side this time, and when he had to be accountable to Lee Sooman, he had to take responsibility for his brother's actions. And despite telling him that he would not take care of him like he used to after the argument they had... he'd much rather take the beatings he had received than see Jeno the way he did in the mirror.

That time, it really felt eternal. He still remembers the angry (but also mocking) look Sooman had on his face when Jaehyun and Lucas brought the money to his office and after asking Lucas none too kindly to leave, that was when Jaehyun knew what was coming.

With Cheol Uk by his side, leading him out of the office to the vacant lot not far from the warehouse, Jaehyun could do nothing but accept what was coming.

It was one blow after another, and he knew well that at that moment, defending himself was not something he should do or he would end up worse.

He remembers feeling every punch with tremendous pain, and all he could think about was Jeno and how he would have felt if it had been him getting beaten up.

At least Jaehyun was used to the beatings and had no choice; he already knew that all of this was part of being someone from Neo Zone, so he simply had to continue to comply with what Sooman demanded to the letter unless he wanted to end up again in the position he was in.

What felt like hours was really just a few minutes; Cheol Uk stopped hitting him after a while and without saying more, he left. Leaving Jaehyun in the middle of the vacant lot with a broken lip and eyebrow as he spat blood and reached for his abdomen for some support to get up and walk to where he knew Lucas was waiting for him.

How much more? How much longer would he have to keep with all of this?

But, right now, it wasn't something he should talk about.

"It's really not something you need to know," he replied with a smirk. "You came to enjoy the race, right? Then do it, I'll be running in a few minutes, if you don't get scared by the atmosphere here before that, I'm sure you'll want to see me," Jaehyun continued, winking at her.

"I think it'll be fun to see you in second place," the girl teased.

"Baby... I always win," Jaehyun bragged, looking her directly in the eyes.

It was then that the girl didn't say anything else, she just kept her gaze on his. She hated feeling intrigued by Jaehyun himself. Because right now she didn't even feel like she was in Kosmo, with Jaehyun in front of her looking directly at her, she didn't even feel real. She was getting into fire and she knew it.

And she didn't know if she could escape from it.

For a moment she felt a heaviness on her shoulders and warmth surrounded her, causing her to snap out of her thoughts and notice that the jacket that Jaehyun was wearing over his hoodie was now over her body.

"You were trembling like a chihuahua," Jaehyun explained. "Don't consider it an act of kindness, I'm just returning the favor after having done my jobs those two weeks... at least now they won't kick me out of school this evaluation period," he continued.

"I'm not sure if I should feel good knowing that I'm indirectly helping an illegal business," she replied, adjusting the jacket.

"No one needs to know," he replied. "Good luck tonight, don't get lost too much because things get interesting," he said, and without further ado, he turned around to go back to his friends.

(Y/N) stood perplexed in her place, and it was then that she felt Jungwoo's presence next to her.

"What was that?"

"I have no idea."

_______________________________________________

The next morning, after putting her books back in her backpack, (Y/N) looked at the jacket folded inside her bag, feeling a heaviness and remembering the events of the previous night.

The rumors were true... Jung Jaehyun was the best street racer in the area, because he not only competed once the day before, but two more times, winning 3 victories in a short time, and to be honest, it had been impressive.

She hadn't run into him again after the brief conversation they had, and even though she had been waiting for it... she and Jungwoo bolted from the place when they heard the police sirens approaching Kosmo.

The last thing she needed was for her parents to find out about her escapade.

She didn't hear anything from Daeho the night before, she even doubted if he had really gone to the race.

She didn't want to give too much importance to the situation, which is why she chose to continue her path through the school hallways, hoping to return the jacket that was at the bottom of her bag and trying to divert her thoughts to something other than Jaehyun.

And as if she had summoned him, she saw him under the entrance roof as he leaned against the wall and took a drag from the cigarette in his hands. (Y/N) checked the day's weather and cursed when she noticed the raindrops falling lightly. She had forgotten about today's forecast.

Jaehyun was lost in his thoughts as he watched the rain and let out the smoke in his chest.

The bruises were still visible.

She stopped abruptly to take the jacket out of her bag and, without saying anything, approached him and handed it back to him.

Jaehyun looked at her with a raised eyebrow and blew out the smoke from his lungs.

"You're welcome," Jaehyun said as he took the jacket in his hands.

"Yes, thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Where did you park your car?" Jaehyun asked out of nowhere.

"I didn't bring it with me, my mom confiscated it," she blurted out without thinking, and when she turned to look at Jaehyun, she noticed a mocking smile on his face.

"Oh, mom took away your Porsche," he pouted mockingly and shook his head. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"I'm fine, Jaehyun. Thanks," she said as she looked at the rain.

"Come on, it wouldn't be the first time I've taken you. Plus, the school won't be closing anytime soon."

She thought about all the possibilities that crossed her mind, but something about her was excited to think about the ride home.

"Where's your car?"

______________________________________________

It was fortunate that his car was nearby.

Jaehyun turned on the heater as soon as they got into the car, and without further ado, the journey began.

It was just like the first time they had been together in the same car. Without saying anything, both with their eyes focused on the road, and it was then that they both realized that they didn't have a topic of conversation. The few times they had interacted had been about their interests and what they needed from each other at the moment. However, Jaehyun didn't know anything about (Y/N) that he hadn't heard at school, and (Y/N) didn't know anything about Jaehyun that she hadn't heard in the hallways or from her parents about the people from Neo Zone.

At this point, they weren't even acquaintances.

They had just coincided in something and that was it.

(Y/N) took the opportunity to send a text message to Jungwoo and tell him that he no longer needed to pick her up, without explaining more, she sent the text and subsequently, Jaehyun's phone rang.

The boy sighed and cautiously looked for a quick place to park even with the sound of the mobile phone ringing filling the car. He took the device and (Y/N) could notice the slight tension that seized Jaehyun's body as he read the caller ID, without thinking twice he answered the call.

The brunette felt weird being able to hear Jaehyun's conversation, so she tried to distract herself with something else. First with her phone, then looking out the window where she could see the rain beginning to dissipate, and then she could hear a "I'll be there in a moment" that made her react and turn to see him end the call.

The boy scratched his neck and then brought his hands to his face to rub it, let out a deep sigh, and looked at (Y/N).

“Uh, I need to do something quickly and your house is still a bit far... Do you mind if we stop by that place first? It's on the way” he asked with no other option.

“Does this has to do with your job?” She asked.

It took him a moment to respond: — No, it's not about my job. You can stay in the car, it's just that, I really need to get there.

After seeing Jaehyun's face and not being able to decipher what he was trying to say, (Y/N) nodded, not very sure, and that was enough for Jaehyun to quickly start the car.

Thousands of thoughts ran through (Y/N)'s mind. Eager to know where they were headed; she didn't know if she should believe Jaehyun that this wasn't about picking up or delivering goods or meeting someone who worked on the same thing he did.

She was only sure they wouldn't go to Neo Zone because they were far from there.

She could see how impatient Jaehyun seemed while driving, and that only made her even more nervous. What exactly did they tell him in that call to make him like this? She wanted to ask, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer.

She didn't know how many minutes had passed, she only knew that the rain stopped just before the car parked and she finally noticed where they were. A gray building was a few meters away from them, and it wasn't hard to recognize it.

It was the National Rehabilitation Center.

A long and large building, which was accompanied by an extensive garden, and from the outside, you could see that there were a huge number of rooms inside it.

Her head was flooded with even more questions knowing that this was the place where Jaehyun was needed.

“You can stay in the car if you want. I'll be back in a moment” Jaehyun said as he opened the car door and got out.

Curiosity got the better of her.

And that's why she got out of the car and followed Jaehyun. Without saying anything, they entered the building where they were immediately greeted by a nurse who seemed to know the boy well.

“Jaehyun, I'm glad you were able to answer the call” said the woman as she greeted them. “We need to talk to you”.

The boy nodded and turned to (Y/N), who just nodded and said, “I’ll wait for you.”

He smiled slightly and walked with the person until they reached the reception where she was able to pull out a few papers.

It had been, perhaps, about two weeks since the last time he had been there. A place he was very familiar with and where he regularly went; he had become good friends with the friendly nurses who apparently didn't care where he came from.

He was grateful that the nurse didn't say anything when his bruises and wounds were clearly visible.

“Has something happened?” he asked after a few seconds.

“ He's fine” the nurse said with a smile “but we need to talk to you about his stay here” she continued.

That's when the small smile on his face disappeared. Jaehyun knew what she was referring to. He swallowed hard before the nurse could speak.

“The payment is overdue, Jaehyun," the nurse confirmed what he already knew. "We care about Sicheng's health, but this is not my concern. You know that the center relies on patients' monthly payments, and the administrators in charge of them request them punctually," she commented as she handed Jaehyun one of the papers. "I understand your situation and Sicheng's, but there's nothing more I can do even if I wanted to; I've tried to delay the payment as much as I could, but unfortunately, it can't be delayed any longer. The administrators expect the payment soon, or we'll have to discharge Sicheng and send him home," she concluded.

It was difficult at first for Jaehyun to process everything the nurse had said, as more than ten things ran through his mind at once; one of them being his good friend Winwin, then, thinking about how he could quickly get the money he knew he owed to the clinic, considering the beating he had just received for not being able to complete a sale. So, what would he do? He still needed half the money for that monthly payment, and between the clinic's expenses and those of his own house for his family, he couldn't see a way to get the money on time.

He would have to ask for more stash to sell if he wanted to do it.

He couldn't let them discharge Sicheng.

Not while he hasn't made progress.

"I'm sorry," Jaehyun said. "I... I still have a little left to complete the payment. It's just that lately, it's been harder, and... how much time do I have to pay it?" the breathless boy asked.

"Considering that it's only the first few days of the month, and the payment is already two weeks late... I can't give you more than three days," lamented the nurse, making a grimace.

"I'll try the impossible to bring you that money on Saturday. Sicheng still can't be discharged; he hasn't progressed the way he was supposed to," he affirmed, a slight pout evident in his mouth.

What a contrast there was between his expression and the bruises, accompanied by the tattoos on his body.

Being in the Rehabilitation Center was the place where he could be most vulnerable.

"How is he?" he asked, lowering his gaze.

"Same as the last time you came to visit him," commented the nurse. "We're doing what we can, Jaehyun, but as long as he stays the way he is, we can't move forward. We need his will to help him."

When no words came out of his mouth, the nurse continued: "Jaehyun, you know you can go see him."

For Jaehyun, each visit was just as difficult as the day he decided to admit Sicheng to that clinic, and each one left him more tormented than the previous.

He would give everything if that means that Sicheng would go back to be himself.

He nodded after a few seconds and cautiously glanced back, where, not far away, (Y/N) was reading some brochures and observing the facilities around them; when she noticed the boy's gaze on her body, she walked toward him carefully.

The brunette didn't really know what came to his mind or what caused those words to come out of his mouth, but when he wanted to back off, it was too late, because they had already been expressed.

"Are you coming with me?"

And although (Y/N) had no idea why they were there or where they were going, she accepted anyway. So they found themselves walking down the long whitewashed hallway until they reached an elevator, and then they went up about three floors.

The atmosphere was cold, the hallways and rooms were well-lit, and they could see a few nurses and what she assumed were doctors walking around in their lab coats.

Jaehyun didn't know why he was allowing himself to show her that part of his life, especially when it was such a fragile part for him. He had tried to protect it cautiously for the past few months, and now he was there, accompanied by Hwang (Y/N), with the person he never thought he would meet at that moment.

He hadn't really thought of her when he asked if they could go there before going home; his head was only thinking about the clinic and Sicheng when the call had ended, and it was too late to change his mind when they had set off.

He just hoped the girl would be discreet enough.

They reached room 119, where Jaehyun pushed the door open and where in a wheelchair, they both could see Winwin, who was facing the large window of his room, looking outside.

(Y/N)'s surprised face did not go unnoticed; she was confused in a thousand ways. She knew who Dong Sicheng was; everyone in her school knew him, however... she thought he had simply left the city. She had no idea he was in that place. So in her head, thousands of questions arose about him, why he was there, and why he was in a wheelchair.

She could only react when she heard Jaehyun's voice: "Hey, buddy. How are you today?"

Nothing.

That's what he received.

Jaehyun walked over to him, and when he stood next to him, he crouched down enough to be able to observe him better. Winwin had his gaze fixed forward, his cheeks were a little rosy, his hair fell over his forehead, and his hands were resting on his legs.

Jaehyun sighed.

"Oh, I see you've taken a shower today," the boy mentioned with a smile, and again, there was not a single response.

When he noticed the presence of the girl, who had remained in her place throughout the visit and hesitated to approach them, he spoke: "Today I'm not alone; I brought company. Maybe you'll find it helpful to hear another voice that isn't mine or Lucas's... or the nurses'," the boy teased and gestured to the brunette to come closer, who obeyed. "Do you remember (Y/N)? She was in our class; we've coincided a couple of times, that's why she's here."

"Hello, Winwin," she greeted softly. Jaehyun made a grimace and stood up from his place to be at the girl's height.

"Don't expect an answer," Jaehyun commented. "There won't be one."

"I thought... I thought Winwin had moved to China," (Y/N) confessed.

Jaehyun snorted: "Yes, that's what everyone thinks."

Those words took her by surprise, and it was when she decided to remain silent, watching from a distance the little interaction between the boys: it was just Jaehyun saying a few words while adjusting Sicheng's hair without expecting any response.

Dong Sicheng and Jung Jaehyun had been friends since birth, being two little boys who grew up on the streets of Neo Zone, it was easy to click with each other. Winwin's parents had decided to move to the infamous area after his father had met Lee Sooman in some low neighborhood in Wenzhou, China, and he had offered him a job where he could have his family at least a little better off than in his country.

Winwin had not joined the gang since it had not been of great urgency to him; his father was the active member needed by the family, and if he were honest... the farthest he could be from the Neo Zone gang... the better. He was always Jaehyun's companion at all times. Best friends who shared every detail of their lives for years, Jaehyun took care of Sicheng, and he provided the most sincere friendship he had ever had... then, a while later, Lucas Wong and Mark Lee joined their adventures.

Four boys from Neo Zone with the desire to conquer the world, but unable to leave their sad reality behind.

Jaehyun still remembers that fateful day a year ago, and he still feels like it happened yesterday.

The guilt gnawed at him every passing day, terrorizing each of his nights as he wondered: Why?

Why did something like that have to happen to someone as good as Dong Sicheng was?

A year ago, when Jaehyun had chosen to go deliver a package of stash after Winwin had asked him to stay and keep him company, and he had denied that request... that decision still drilled into his head.

Winwin's family and he had been robbed in their own home. Knowing who had done it, the reasons for the event, and who had ordered such inhumanity, were still a mystery. When Winwin's parents along with him tried to flee the place by leaving in a car; it had not been the wisest decision they had made at the moment... because not long after, outside of Neo Zone, after the group of people who had robbed their home managed to shoot a clean shot in one of the tires of the rear part of the car, causing Winwin's father to lose control of his own vehicle and not a few meters later it would impact hard enough for the car to be shot in another direction, causing immediate damage.

Jaehyun only remembers receiving a call from Lucas and minutes later finding himself at the entrance to the Emergency Room of the General Hospital, where a stretcher with Winwin's body was being transported.

He remembers seeing the blood. He remembers hearing Lucas and Mark's screams asking to see their friend. He remembers standing still at the entrance to the Emergency Room.

But above all, he remembers thinking, what would have happened if instead of deciding to go sell that stupid package of stash, what if he had stayed at home with his mother and Sicheng?

A week in a coma and a diagnosis of paraplegia was what made Jaehyun lose his mind.

It had been a year since the accident, and Winwin had not even progressed a bit. After being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, it had been difficult to help the injury in the dorsal spine that he had suffered; the damage had been partial, Winwin could handle his movements and his sensitivity to walk again... if only he would come out of the state of shock he was still in.

There were too many things he experienced in so few minutes, so much physical and mental pain for what happened, that now, Sicheng couldn't react.

It had been a year since Sicheng hasn’t spoken.

The doctors assured that he could hear and understand everything, but he was simply mentally tired to process the words and make them come out of his mouth.

His body didn't react as it should either.

And until Winwin had the strength of his own will to do it, the only thing they could do at that clinic was to keep him on medication so that the pains would not persist.

But Jaehyun couldn't take it anymore.

What he would give for Sicheng to be able to enjoy life again.

Unfortunately, the visits he made to the hospital... didn't last more than half an hour since that was the place's regulation. So, his farewell was as quick as his arrival.

"See you on Saturday, Win," he put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't give the nurses too much trouble."

He could swear he heard Winwin laugh and say goodbye.

Even though that really didn't happen.

(Y/N), who throughout the visit remained silent observing both boys, could feel her heart in her hand. She had never believed she would see that vulnerability on Jaehyun's part, and knowing what it was about because of the importance his best friend had in his life, made her heart ache with sadness even more.

"Now I'll take you home," murmured Jaehyun when he passed by her without saying anything else.

The girl glanced back, looking for the last time at Sicheng's silhouette, who hadn't moved from the same place since they had both arrived in the room. She took a deep breath and left the room when Jaehyun was already far enough away.

She didn't know what to say. There were no words of comfort for the situation, and she knew it, that's why they both silently said goodbye to the nurse who had received them and continued like that until they entered the car, which was not parked far away.

Jaehyun allowed himself to lean back on the driver's seat as he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"I guess you have many questions," Jaehyun said without opening his eyes.

She had.

"I don't know if I really should ask them," (Y/N) confessed as she looked at him.

The boy remained silent for a few seconds.

"Sicheng and his parents had an accident a year ago," Jaehyun said, opening his eyes to look at her. "An accident that was caused."

"By whom?"

"No one knows," he replied, taking his hands to the steering wheel of the car and squeezing it tightly. "His parents died instantly... Winwin arrived at the hospital in critical condition; it was a miracle that he came out alive."

"Why...?"

"Why is he in this clinic?" he interrupted, and she nodded with a knot in her stomach. "The accident had a great impact and damaged on his dorsal spine; the doctors diagnosed partial paraplegia; his sensitivity in his legs was minimal, and he couldn't make any extensive movements with his legs that didn't make him cry from the pain. After seven days, he woke up from the coma and realized everything that had happened, including my uncle's death... he hasn't said a single word since then... the doctors said it would take time for him to recover, and that eventually, he would speak, but Winwin doesn't have the will to do it; he's still in a kind of state of shock, and that has delayed his recovery," he explained, unable to see her in the eyes.

"Who... who pays for all this if Sicheng's parents aren't here?" she asked curiously.

Jaehyun sighed; "For the first few months, my boss covered part of the monthly fee, until suddenly he stopped doing it. Since then, I've been taking care of it."

The girl's expression was one of surprise.

"How do you do it?"

"That’s the reason I'm in the business that I'm in," he replied, changing his gaze to her, being able to see directly into her eyes and causing her to feel a shiver run through her body.

There was something about those bruised eyes that had done something to her.

"It must be hard," the girl said in a murmur.

Jaehyun snorted and nodded slowly. He hated being seen in his less tough character. The only person he allowed himself to be like that with was Lucas... or Winwin. And for a stranger to see him like that... made his blood boil.

"You know? Winwin loved dancing," Jaehyun said, smiling sideways as the memory came to his mind.

That fact wasn't strange for (Y/N), she remembers seeing Winwin at the school theater... the only boy from Neo Zone who was part of the dance team. She didn't even know how he had managed that, but he must have been good if the Kwangya students allowed him to be in the group.

"Now nobody knows if he'll be able to do it again," Jaehyun continued. "Winwin was the only one of all of us who really had a future, he wasn't even a gang member... he hadn't even gone through his initiation, and look how he ended up."

(Y/N) swallowed.

"Mark Lee is no longer friends with you, right?" The girl asked curiously.

"Things got complicated with him after the accident."

The brunette fell silent for a moment and then shifted her body to face him.

“Haven't you thought about looking for another alternative?” she questioned again “You know? If you let me help you, maybe I could get you a position at my father's company and...”

“Shh. I think I've told you it's not that easy.”

“ But it could be” she insisted.

Jaehyun scoffed and shook his head as he looked away from her.

“I not only have to cover this quota, I also have to bring money home, for my mom and for Jeno. It's the easiest way to get what I need” he confessed “besides, I told you once... in Neo Zone there's no way out, once you're in, you're in forever.”

The tattoos on his neck were what sentenced him to a miserable life forever.

But as long as that miserable life helped to ease the pain and managed to make Sicheng return to who he was, it would be worth it.

“It doesn't have to be like this” she murmured, focusing on her own hands.

"You don't know what it's like to be part of this," he countered in a low voice.

How had they opened up to have such a conversation so suddenly?

The girl felt her lip tremble as she remembered the scene she had witnessed minutes earlier in that room, and she couldn't help but think about how it would feel to lose a loved one in such a way... knowing that physically they were present, but mentally they weren't there.

(Y/N) had always had a heart easy to move, but she really never believed that Jung Jaehyun would be able to achieve that.

"Is that why you insist on continuing school?" she asked, looking at him again.

"Students are my best clients," he replied with a half smile.

(Y/N) didn't know how to take that.

She closed her eyes for a moment and then said, "I can help you with a few more assignments," she assured. "But only for a while and in my own way. But, I don't want you to involve me in any of the problems you're in, it will only be school matters. I don't want to be associated with anything you do, if anything you do is enough to help Sicheng, I'll try not to question it."

Jaehyun couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"If that helps you help me and me stay in school..." he paused "...I might be willing."

"What's the reason for your change of heart?"

"Because if I were in the same situation as you, I would also want someone to somehow help me," she replied, hugging herself.

The boy nodded with a half-smile, and without further ado, he started the car.

"Only school matters," Jaehyun confirmed.

She definitely didn't know what he had just gotten himself into.

______________________________________________

The day after the visit to the National Rehabilitation Center, something happened that made (Y/N) unable to concentrate enough during class hours. Her mind kept going back to the place over and over again, but how horrible was the situation the boy was in. One day you're capable, and the next... not even being able to move. How could anyone endure that?

At some point in the morning, during the physics period, her mind was spinning, her leg moving anxiously, and she bit her lips. She tried to erase the conversation she and Jaehyun had had the day before a thousand times and tried to erase the image of Winwin in that room.

But it was impossible.

Just when she thought she had succeeded, the image returned immediately.

She hated being someone who cared too much about things.

Because she knew something wasn't right with her when she found herself in front of the doors of the Rehabilitation Center.

Her coat shielded her from the cold breeze on that day, and as she clutched her bag to her, she didn't think anymore and entered the place.

She felt a little out of place when she entered the center, but after a few minutes, a presence came in front of her.

"Hello, good morning," the nurse greeted her. "Oh, you're the girl who accompanied Jaehyun yesterday, right?" She asked in confusion.

The girl smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm Hwang (Y/N). I'm Jaehyun's classmate... and Winwin's."

"How nice of you to visit us... are you here to see Winwin? It's rare to see someone come for him other than Lucas or Jaehyun," confessed the nurse.

"Um, yes... I could say I'm here for a visit," the girl smiled. "But, to be honest... yesterday I overheard a bit of his conversation with Jaehyun... I know Winwin's payment is delayed this month."

"Yes, usually Jaehyun finds a way to pay on time," she sighed. "But this month it's been delayed for a few weeks, and if I'm honest, I've been doing everything I can to keep Winwin from being discharged."

The girl nodded and asked, "Do you think Winwin's treatment will still take time?"

"I can't answer that accurately," admitted the nurse. "It's all a matter of Winwin's will, but to be honest, right now he has no will at all, so far as we're concerned, and if the payment continues to be monthly... he could spend another half a year here."

The girl understood the situation, and although she would like to think more about it... she didn't, so she didn't even know when she blurted out those words: "Is there any way I can pay for the next six months?"

The nurse's eyes widened with surprise, and she looked at the girl with enthusiasm. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," she replied. "I would like to help one of my classmates as long as I can. Money is not a problem," she confessed.

"Wow... thank you, i really appreciate that. Winwin is a boy with a lot of potential from what we know, and although we're sad that we haven't made the progress we want, we know that someday he will leave through that door better," (Y/N) smiled nostalgically.

"I just need to ask you something," the brunette confessed. "Could you not tell Jaehyun that I've paid?" she questioned.

"I don't know if it's easy to lie to someone like Jaehyun," the nurse laughed. "But since it's something good you've done... I'll try," the nurse walked to the desk with (Y/N) behind her. "(Y/N)?" She called and paid attention. "I know there may be many things about Jaehyun... but he's a good guy... beneath all that facade; he really has something good."

Those words hammered in her head. "Thank you."

_____________________________________________

(Y/N) reviewed the same line of text she had read five times now on some molasses topic. Trying to understand the topic deeply.

The air coming lightly through one of the library windows was enough for her to try to hug herself to take warmth, read a bit from the physics books on the table, and impatiently move her leg.

She didn't know at what exact moment a tall figure stood in front of her, but what she did know was that that person didn't seem very happy.

"Why did you do it?" Jaehyun let out while looking directly at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," (Y/N) replied while looking at her book attentively.

"I know you know. I thought I told you I don't need your money," Jaehyun repeated with annoyance.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," the girl stopped seeing her book and changed her gaze to the boy.

"Don't play with me," the boy exclaimed exasperatedly. "Why did I went to the center today and they told me Winwin's treatment has been paid for the next six months?"

The girl shrugged. "It could have been your boss."

"My boss doesn't give a shit about Winwin!" Exclaimed the boy. "I told you I didn't need your money, I was clear, I don't want to owe anything to anyone from Kwangya."

"You don't need to pay me back," the girl assured, standing up in front of Jaehyun. "With the money you'll save from that, you'll be able to sell less."

"It seems you don't understand a fucking thing!" Jaehyun raised your arms with annoyance. "Paying or not paying for Sicheng's treatment, it doesn't change the fact that I sell drugs!" The boy explained regardless of where they were; they were lucky the library wasn't being occupied by other people.

"Everyone starts somewhere!" the girl attacked. "I just wanted to take a weight off your shoulders."

Jaehyun scoffed and looked at her with a sarcastic smile.

"Why? I don't need your pity! If you hadn't accompanied me yesterday, you'd still be thinking Winwin had moved to China! You didn't give a fucking damn even when he was your classmate!"

(Y/N) started gathering her things and putting them in her backpack.

"Saying thank you would have been enough, Jaehyun!" the girl remarked. "I know you can do better with your life," she murmured as she turned to look at him.

Jaehyun's blood was boiling; he hated when people interfered in his life, as if he didn't already have enough to deal with.

"You don't know anything about me! You said it yourself; we're not even friends," he retorted.

"And what if I want to get to know you better?" the girl exclaimed without thinking. They both fell silent, staring into each other's eyes. (Y/N) didn't even want to say those words, but she did.

She couldn't deny that Jung Jaehyun was intriguing. She didn't know why. She didn't know why she had been avoiding him for weeks, but since that night at Neo Zone, when they had talked about the deal, she knew it would be difficult to shake him off, and when she had... something inside her wanted them to meet again. Why are things so difficult? They are two different people from different backgrounds; why would she suddenly be interested in him? Was it because she saw him vulnerable the day before? Or was it because she believed there was something good in him, just like the nurse had said?

She must be crazy to think like that.

"You really don't want to do it," Jaehyun said with a bit more calmness.

"I know you can get out out of that hole, Jaehyun."

"Winwin's parents tried, and look how that ended up!" he exclaimed. "There's no way out in Neo Zone, get that through your head," he explained. "There's nothing good about me. I don't even know why you think so, just because yesterday you saw something different or because I drove you home a couple of times, doesn't mean you know everything about me!"

"Stop acting like a fucking jerk."

"Like a jerk? This is reality! Your act of charity isn't going to change my life. I was born a dealer, and that's how my life will end!"

"I really believe there's something good in you."

"Well, keep believing it."

"If you ever feel grateful, you know where to find me," the girl said, gathering her things and walking out of the library.

Jaehyun cursed under his breath and shook his hands in frustration. In just a few days, the girl had managed to push his buttons faster than anyone else from Neo Zone.

But when he saw her walk out the door, why did he feel regret for lashing out at her?

_______________________________________________

The week had been slow this time. (Y/N) and Jaehyun had been avoiding each other like the plague, not even looking at each other when they crossed paths in the hallway. For the girl, it seemed like childish behavior, especially coming from Jaehyun and his usual façade; now he seemed nothing more than someone throwing a tantrum after she only wanted to help him.

But she still thought she really wanted to get to know him better.

What was behind his façade? What was it that made him who he was? Not the boy from Neo Zone, not the dealer everyone knew... who was Jeong Jaehyun really?

That question had been on her mind for weeks, and it disappointed her a bit to know that she might never know the answers to those doubts she had about the boy.

Today was warm compared to the weather last week. The sun was shining brightly, and luckily for (Y/N), her mother had decided to return her car. So her day had started off on the right foot, and hoping for a good day, she took the opportunity to stop by her favorite coffee shop in Kwangya. Ordering her usual vanilla latte and just before it was time to pay, a thought invaded her mind, and after debating it internally, she decided to follow her thoughts.

An hour and a half later, when she was the last one to leave her physics class, someone blocked her path at the classroom door. Holding her book to her chest, after the unexpected startle, she looked ahead to find no one but Jaehyun. Who stood silently in front of her, with the same leather jacket he used to wear, the same combination of marijuana and vanilla scent, and with the same enchanting eyes, that she had just noticed.

She was in dangerous territory.

And she knew it.

"I need to go to my next class, Jaehyun," the girl said shortly.

For a few seconds, the boy in front of her didn't say anything, he just watched her, until he sighed and slowly said, "Thank you."

Short and to the point, he didn't say anything else, and that was enough to make (Y/N)'s heart flutter in a thousand ways.

"For the coffee," the boy finished. "And for the notes."

"I did my part, I told you I would help you," said (Y/N) as she fiddled with her fingers.

"I thought you wouldn't after the last time we met," Jaehyun confessed.

"I'm sticking to that."

A small silence ensued. Two people face to face. With thousands of doubts between them and things to resolve. What had drawn them together? How was it that the universe managed to put two completely different people in the same place?

"Did you mean it?" Jaehyun asked, and when he noticed that (Y/N) didn't understand what he meant, he continued. "About wanting to get to know me more."

(Y/N) swallowed hard and looking him in the eyes, nodded.

"I still believe there's something good in you."

"Why?"

"I don't know yet," she replied honestly. "And it's killing me. A while ago, I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with you, not even to cross paths, but now, I don't know what's changed, but every time I try to stay away, it's like something brings me back here," she confessed, leaving Jaehyun speechless, who just watched her, trying to decipher everything she was saying.

It was killing him too.

"Let's go to my car," he said.

"Huh?" she asked, confused.

"You want to know more about me, then get in my car," he said again, this time making his way to the parking lot, with (Y/N) behind him, who didn't say a single word, just followed his lead.

What was he doing?

When they reached the car, Jaehyun opened the passenger door, causing (Y/N) to get in without protesting. Then Jaehyun got into the driver's seat and without further ado, started the engine. She didn't know what was happening or what would happen next, but right now she could only trust Jaehyun.

Even though she didn't know how bad an idea that might be.

A few minutes later, as they had traveled a long distance, (Y/N) noticed they were approaching Neo Zone, and with her eyes wide open, she panicked.

"This is me," Jaehyun said out of nowhere, catching the girl's attention. "See all these streets? This is where I belong. This is what I am," he explained carefully.

(Y/N) looked out the window, a couple of people smoking on the sidewalk, others passing joints, and other silent streets. The houses weren't that big... rather, they looked cramped. Unlike what she was used to, to her lifestyle, this didn't seem like it would be enough for a family.

But what did she know with the privilege she had?

"I grew up here, this is what I know," he commented. "Most people are born and die here, it's something that seems to be already written," he continued as his car slowed down. "Those of us from here have a different perspective on life... people from Kwangya lives for the money... we live to survive, and although it's getting harder and harder, we manage to do it," the car finally stopped, and still looking out the window, (Y/N) saw a small house in front of them. One story, not much to describe or point out, it was small but for some reason, it looked cozy.

(Y/N) changed her gaze to Jaehyun, who was still looking ahead and spoke.

"Is this your house?"

Jaehyun nodded.

(Y/N) smiled softly.

"Would you invite me in?"

______________________________________________

He doesn't know how (Y/N) managed to have an effect on him, but now they were there, inside his little house, (Y/N) carefully examining the walls around them and analyzing every aspect of the small space.

He was grateful there were no one at home.

"It looks cozy," (Y/N) said as she looked at one of the frames hanging on the wall.

"I guess it's not even a third of your house," Jaehyun assured to (Y/N).

“And no matter how many people are there, it always feels lonely," she confessed. "It's like no one leaves anything there, like it's something unimportant. As if it's not a home," she finished.

Jaehyun looked at her gently, and as she looked around, thousands of things went through his mind.

"To be honest with you," the girl spoke. "I see more vibes from Jeno in this house than yours," she said. "Many things here seem related to Jeno... but I don't see many things related to you..." she continued. "It's like you don't even think about staying here for long."

"I don't plan on leaving Neo Zone," Jaehyun asserted, crossing his arms.

"Don't you want a different future?"

"There's no future for me," Jaehyun pointed out. "And if there were, I'd prefer to give it to Jeno. He has much more to live for than I do."

"You also have a life to live. A future to write, you can change what is today, for something better," (Y/N) turned around to face the boy.

"I have no way out," the boy replied. "Do you think this is easy? After seeing my dad die and doing everything my bosses ask me to do no matter what. Taking care of my mom, Jeno, and now Winwin? Huh? Making sure Winwin becomes who he was again and that my brother doesn't end up being a fucking addict are enough reasons for me not to leave here," Jaehyun concluded, getting dangerously close to her, with a few centimeters separating them.

The words echoed in her head strongly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't pity me," Jaehyun said under his breath.

"It's not that. It's just that every time I think about all this and now that I see your place and I don't see anything that seems to belong to you, it makes me think that's what you're looking for, to belong to something and leave here as soon as there's an opportunity,"

Jaehyun looked directly at her, not knowing what to say. And afraid to think that maybe she was right.

Because yes, maybe he wanted to get out of there, along with his mom, Jeno, and Winwin; maybe he wanted to do something with his life that wasn't illegal, but what was the point of thinking about it when he knew he wouldn't make it? He was afraid to admit that he wanted to be able to change things, to be able to make his family okay, that no shadow from the past would follow them, that they would have a place where they could forge a clean and safe future.

"This has never been about what I want," Jaehyun commented with a future. "Since I was born, everything around me was the gang. After my father's death, I knew what was coming, and I knew I would never be able to get out of it. It doesn’t matter what I want. It matter what my boss wants, he has that kind of power, no one below him has their own decision. The whole life of Neo Zone is ruled by him," he concluded, even closer to her.

(Y/N) looked him in the eyes, her breath uncontrolled. Her chest heaved, and her hands were sweating.

"What do you want, Jaehyun?" she whispered.

The boy paused for a moment and looked at her lips.

"Now?" he asked, and she nodded. "Would it be unrealistic to say that I want to kiss you?"

"How realistic would it be to say that I want you to do it?

She didn't even finish the question because Jaehyun's lips collided firmly with hers. The boy's long hands slid through (Y/N)'s soft hair, her hair smelling of lavender shampoo. He gently covered her cheek with one of his rough hands, and she melted into the touch.

It wasn't a hurried kiss, as (Y/N) thought it would be; actually, Jaehyun was taking the time to savor every passing second. As if this moment would disappear at any minute and he wanted to hold onto it.

Was he looking for something to belong to?

His hand moved from her cheek to her waist, and she took the opportunity to press her body against his and release a moan of pleasure. As if she felt complete leaning against Jaehyun's warmth.

As if it was something they both longed for for a long time.

And even though she wanted to continue with the act, they were severely interrupted when a car horn sounded incessantly outside the house, causing them to separate with tremendous confusion. (Y/N)'s red cheeks were enough to make Jaehyun's heart race, but when he heard another horn, he took her hand and they walked outside in hurry.

And then, there was Jeno, being thrown out of the back of a car, blood streaming from a cut on his eyebrow, bruises scattered all over his body, and falling firmly to the ground after being thrown.

"I want this to be the last time your brother sets foot in our zone. Next time it won't be him we throw," the familiar voice of a boy from the opposing gang spoke up. Chris. Who was with the window down and smiling maliciously. "Neither will it be you, Jung. It will be the girl who will end up like this,"

Jaehyun moved abruptly from his place to try to reach the car, but it left as fast as it could, (Y/N) shocked to hear those words, didn't do anything more than approach Jeno to help him up. Then Jaehyun cursed under his breath and looked into the distance at the girl and her brother together.

And his chest tightened as he realized that now, she too had been involved.

And he believed there was no turning back, because she was right... Jaehyun wanted to belong to something.

But how selfish would it be to belong to (Y/N)?

a/n: well now you know what happened to Winwin TT. Once again I’m sorry if this took too long I promise I’ll try to update sooner this time!

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @kriizztin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae

241 notes · View notes

hispg · 7 months

Text

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.4k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things starts to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

An: So, initially I was going to post the other fanfic I did with Fuckboy! Leon, but I thought it was bad and decided not to post it for now. But I still have plans for it.

I intend to do several chapters on this fic(I'm sucker for royalty AU), I don't know exactly how many but I plan to do more than 10 or 15, since I have a lot of stuff I want to put in. Most of them are not comforting.

This is a thank you to the 200 followers, which by the way is almost 300 by now. I'd like to genuinely thank each and every one of you<3 And I hope you enjoy this story, because I'm genuinely excited about it.

Prologue

Royalty wasn't for everyone, that much was obvious to those who already lived in this reality. A world of appearances where everything was perfect, people, everyday life, relationships. But that was a facade, the reality took place between closed doors.

It was never clean, the backstabbing behind the king's back, the betrayals, the lust that hid behind the elaborate and sophisticated costumes. But in the end, what mattered was how beautiful that royal family was to its subjects, honor being a crucial element to maintain.

Faced with all this, the Italian prince, Leon, was well aware of the dynasty's sacrifices. He was already aware of his duty, and knew that at some point his life would take a completely different turn from what he had expected. As the only heir, he knew that it wouldn't be long before his father wanted him to marry, after all, he had to carry on the line. The honor of the kingdom had to continue, and he was the only one who could.

Although he already knew that the burden of succession would come to him one day, he just didn't expect it to be so soon.

Leon was a man known for his accomplishments, despite his young age he was a brave man, as well as the incomparable beauty he contained. Sharp features, a piercing blue gaze, a prince who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He had a unique authenticity.

Yet he still couldn't fit in with his surroundings. His eyes staring at the chandelier, seeing how decorated everything in the castle was. Seeing the expensive clothes of each of the invited guests, the glittering dresses of the ladies who were there. He watched the people walking around the hall, seeing how comfortable they were in that situation.

But not him.

The evening was planned to be perfect, days and weeks of planning went into making this great event happen. All the most important royals were present at the castle, from the most prestigious dukes and duchesses to other kings and queens.

Today was the day that the Italian prince, Leon, would be presented to his future wife. He was the rightful heir, the next to rule his own kingdom. That's why the ballroom was perfect, every last detail thought of and worked on to create the perfect occasion.

To show off the future rulers of the country. The next ones who would take care of that kingdom and prosper it. It was a more than necessary moment to demonstrate the future couple.

Despite all the sophistication and dedication that the queen put into the celebration, Leon didn't seem to be at all excited or happy about the situation. He was sitting in one of the royal chairs, taking small sips of the most expensive wine, his expression sullen and bitter.

He didn't ask for any of this.

The day when the fates of two royals would cross, intertwine and become one. A marriage that would unite them, a commitment that once made could not be broken.

If he was being honest, he didn't even want to be a prince. This royal life didn't suit him, all these comforts and perks that didn't seem to fit in with anything he liked. A forced life, just because he was born into this family.

From where he was sitting, he could see you coming. The beautiful British princess, dressed in the most expensive of dresses, hair tied up in a bun. The ornaments that shone on you, as well as the enchanting smile that could melt even the hardest heart. At that point, all eyes were on you, curious and expectant. Everyone there was close to the soon-to-be queen.

Admiring your features, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful. Your sweet features, your face that exuded the purest grace and youth. Your way of walking that seemed to make you flutter with every step.

Still, you weren't her. You weren't the woman he loved. The only one capable of bringing a genuine smile to the skeptical man he was.

You weren't Ashley Graham, the princess he had fallen madly in love with. The one with whom he had sworn several vows of love, the one with whom he had promised to spend the rest of his life.

And there he was, preparing to marry another woman. One he didn't even know, or have any proximity to, and even worse, to marry a woman he didn't love. No matter how much he protested this to his father, nothing he said was listened to.

'You're going to marry her, whether you like it or not.' Words that still echoed in his head, and seeing how close this marriage was, he felt the weight of the situation on his back.

Yes, he had always known that this moment would come. His duty as a prince, to follow what was prescribed. What fate was supposed to have in store for him, even if he didn't believe in it.

But all his thoughts vanish once he hears a sweet voice calling him:

"Your Highness." The tender feminine voice coming from your lips, along with the elegant curtsy you made.

He blinked a few times, holding back a sigh out of politeness. Like the gentleman he was, he rose from his seat, returning the bow to you.

"Good to see you here, Your Highness." He says courteously, even if it's a lie. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was keep up appearances.

It was hard not to notice the prince's beauty, his handsome and charming face, his eyes the lightest shade of blue you'd ever seen. His blond hair was just as captivating. No wonder he was one of the most desired.

You felt lucky to be the woman who would marry him, even though you knew that the prince already had someone else in his heart. Rumors spread fast, especially when it came to a family as important as his. But magically things remained under wraps, even though the suspicions of this secret relationship were well-founded.

You always knew that like most marriages, you wouldn't marry someone you were in love with. But you still had a glimmer of hope that you could make him like you, at least a little bit. You hated to think that maybe your marriage was a ruin like all the others.

Love and royalty didn't go together, yet you wanted to try and make it something unique.

"Would you like a dance?" Leon asks, snapping you out of your deep trance of thoughts.

You nodded with a polite smile, holding his warm hand as he led you into the middle of the hall. The classical music that echoed through the space, as other people danced and celebrated, gave the place a joyful atmosphere.

As soon as you were in the middle of the ballroom, all eyes were on you. With a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, he bowed and began to dance with you.

One hand on your back, the other intertwined with yours, your bodies very close, your faces almost touching.

His feet moved in sync with yours, both of you moving gracefully. Whirling around the ballroom. The two of you waltzing all over the place, keeping smiles and gentle glances for each other. Acting as if you were a couple in love, making silent vows. His eyes not leaving yours for a minute, his hand briefly squeezing yours, the moment seemed magical. In a way you never imagined it could be.

His cologne filling your nostrils, the heat emanating from his body. Everything about him seemed to draw your attention, as if it were a temptation.

You could feel your heart beating fast, the butterflies in your stomach that showed your clear nervousness. But still you didn't stumble once, your grace and elegance being whispered about among the guests.

His eyes staring into yours, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. This dance was a demonstration of the cooperation between the two countries, the union that was about to take place. A reason to be honored.

Despite the delicacy of the moment, the fluidity with which you danced, the mesmerizing sophistication of your movements. The way your dress dragged across the floor and danced with you. The passionate look you insisted on seeing in him.

You knew it was a lie. A damn lie.

It was confirmed once you saw his eyes light up, the outline of a sincere smile forming on his lips. At first you thought it was directed at you, but that feeling was crushed when you decided to take a look back.

There she was, the breathtaking Highness Graham, the blonde who had captured Leon's heart. The girl who wore a delicate white dress, with sophisticated and expensive accessories, enhancing her beauty. She stood among the others, just admiring him with a beautiful smile.

She knew she had his heart in the palm of her hand, so she couldn't feel the slightest bit jealous of you. He belonged to her.

You felt it in the way he admired her, in the way he looked at her in a way you couldn't even dream of. He was hopelessly in love, to the point where he even forgot you were standing in front of him. His body just moved on automatic, as if his focus was only on Ashley, only on her.

Although you wanted to pull back a little, you couldn't. The waltz wasn't over yet, it was a tradition, and you had to go until the music stopped. You couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart, the feeling that you had already lost a battle that hadn't even begun.

Nobody said you could have his heart.

As he twirls with you, he seems to focus his attention on you once again. Just for a brief moment, he was smart, he knew he couldn't give too much leeway for other rumors to spread around.

It was imaginable that the marriage would be a failure, since both kingdoms only saw it as an opportunity to increase business. However, you didn't expect to get this response so quickly.

Destined for an unreachable man, who was so close and yet so far away. How cruel could fate be?

And so you continued, keeping up the play of a couple in love, dancing and waltzing around the room. His gaze shifting between you and her, just as his expression changed with every glance. For one he gave a polite smile, for the other he gave a genuine one.

And you already knew who was who in the story.

After what seemed like an eternity, the waltz was over. You are presented with a round of applause, whistles and sincere words of approval for your union.

This while you waved and smiled, then bowed to each other, a sign of respect from both sides. As well as showing your gratitude to each other for the opportunity to dance. Etiquette and tradition, which you were following to the letter.

As soon as the applause stopped, Leon held out his arm for you to take, so that he could guide you to the place where the king would give a speech about the future marriage.

Consequently, you and Leon would officially become engaged. There were many looks on both of your faces, so many that you couldn't even count.

One in particular caught your eye, the same woman who had captured Leon's attention earlier, Ashley Graham.

The subtle smile, which was soon reciprocated by Leon, although discreet, you were able to perceive this small exchange between them. You couldn't deny the lump that was forming in your throat as you tried to let the situation sink into your head, that you would at least understand how it would go on.

As you walked through the great hall, stepping on the expensive marble, making your way to where the king would make his pronouncement. Walking through the crowd of distinguished guests who were there.

You noticed him looking at you from the corner of his eye, as if he were analyzing you from head to toe. It wasn't as if he was judging you or anything, it seemed more like the look of someone who wanted to look at his future wife, as if he was thinking about how things would be from now on.

Which you didn't even know what it would be like, either.

It wasn't long before you arrived at the King's chambers, a polished and expensive place, you could feel the sophistication of his throne just by looking at it. The place was perfectly tidy, the carpet had no fuss at all, perfectly done. Every butler and waiter duly took their places, bowing as you walked.

It seemed that the king had already started his speech, but he hadn't gotten to the important part yet. First, he had to give a statement to those attending the event, nothing more than a courtesy to them for being there, as well as reinforcing his duty to his kingdom, and to each of his subjects.

A while later, the king stood up, raised a glass of wine and said loud and clear:

"Tonight is a special night," then his gaze falls on the two of you, and he smiles broadly, "My heir, my only son is going to marry."

Despite the obvious, a round of applause echoed around the room, whistles and compliments. Which caused you and Leon to smile at each other, acting as if the happiness was genuine, as if you weren't two unacquainted people about to get married.

As soon as Leon's father saw the general reaction, he raised his glass and said, "Cheers."

Enough for another wave of loud sounds and murmurs from people. They seemed to be very happy about the future of the kingdom.

Leon then gave you a hug around the waist, swirling you in the air. Even his smile changed, and you believed even for a second that it was real.

"We'll be happy," Leon murmurs, loud enough for the people around you to hear and giggle at the new couple.

"Yes, of course." You say with a sweetness in your voice, buying his conversation. Deep down you wanted it to be real, but you knew the shadow that stood between the two of you.

It was a lie, a facade, and maybe it would never be real.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 leon #resident evil leon #leon smut #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon re4 #resident evil #re leon

543 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

Text

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours.

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while.

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve.

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress.

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him.

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely.

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice.

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break.

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it.

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

3K notes · View notes

cillianhead · 7 months

Note

Hey hey, I just found your blog and I really like your writing - especially Sitting Pretty since I'm a sucker for those Crane fics. :3

Would you maybe be up for some kind of comfort/fluff fic with Crane?

I am always up for some comfort/fluff when it comes to Dr Jonathan Crane. He's so babygirl <3

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.... thank you so much for your request!

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby || Jonathan Crane x Reader

warnings: none really, some brief mentions of violence, crying, angsty but also fluffy and comforting at the end, not really anything that bad to be honest, sort of non-canonical to anything that actually happened in the films.

It had been around a week since you had seen your boyfriend of three years. This was the longest you had gone without seeing Jonathan, without even hearing a peep from him. You even went to his work, he hadn't been there either. You knew what sort of dangerous work he did outside of Arkham and also within it, you knew the dangers and the risks he faced every time he left your apartment. You were still hopelessly devoted to him, despite the bad things that he has done and continues to do. You knew he would never hurt you. Him being gone felt like someone had ripped your heart out... like your soul was slowly being eaten away. Where was he? Was he even still alive? No. You mustn't think like that.

It was only a week, maybe he just needed some time away. Though he would've at least taken time off work, surely? His work told you he hadn't called in sick but he was supposed to be there. But he wasn't.

You hadn't cried. You found yourself growing more and more numb to the absence of Jonathan. It was like your body trying to reject a foreign object, trying to spit him out of your heart. It was painful and agonizingly slow, you knew you could never get over him, especially if you never got to say goodbye. His things lying around your apartment were a painful reminder of the fact he was gone. And he probably was never coming back.

You hadn't slept, at least not very well, in four days. You'd barely been eating either, maybe a stale cracker or two every now and then but you couldn't bring yourself to eat any proper meals. The best you could do was stare at the tiled wall as you stood in the scalding hot shower, trying to burn away the grief.

With the growing hunger and the fact you barely slept, paranoia was also sprouting within you, like some sort of sickly weed. You were worried that if Jonathan had been captured, whatever got him, was coming for you next. Every tiny little noise, every rumble, or car horn outside sent you running to the comfort of your shared bed. The one that smelt like him. You really couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like some sort of evil horned figure ready to devour you whole, your eyes wide and frozen, helplessly full of fear. You thought about how Jonathan would assess this situation, how nerdy he got when you were afraid, in its own way you found it comforting the way he explained the body's reaction to fear and the way he explained the mind's power over the body.

The sleep you did get would be full of nightmares or vividly heartbreaking dreams. There was one you couldn't get over, a dream so sweet, more like a memory than anything else. Jonathan coming home from work, taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with you. His hands caressed your back softly, arms cradling you like you could shatter at any moment if he held you too tight. It felt so painfully real, that even when you began to wake up you could still feel him there. Still feeling his arms around you.

"Jonathan..." You whispered a sigh of relief, his arms pulled away from you as your heart raced with joy. Sitting up and looking around to find yourself just as alone as you had been for the past week. That's when you began to cry. "Jonathan..." You sobbed into your hands, you couldn't fall asleep after that. It was four in the morning, and the room was pretty much pitch black as you cried to yourself like a baby needing its mother.

Even more time passed. You were hysterical, you didn't pick up your phone when your friends called, you didn't leave the house, you didn't eat, and you most definitely didn't sleep. You were in bad shape, to say the least. It was that time of the year when the rain began to pour, your glass walls showed the bruised sky and the lightning it unleashed upon Gotham. You didn't work, Jonathan insisted on you staying at home, for him to provide for you. You were pretty happy staying at home and doing as you pleased. But now... it felt so different, there was no one to come home to you. You were pretty certain that the love of your life had died and you were going to spend the rest of your time alone. You knew you could never love again.

As if the sky knew how you felt, it only rained harder, it rained for days and it never stopped. You sat on the couch with a blanket draped over you as you lifelessly stared out at the dark sky. It was the middle of the night, and you thought about sweet nothings you and Jonathan shared. You thought about how lucky you were to see that side of him, so lucky you weren't on the other end, seeing the scarecrow, full of fear toxin. You thought about Jonathan humming while he made you pancakes, thought about the way he wrote you love letters almost every morning before he left for work, thought about the way you both were ready to get married soon. You remembered him holding your stomach while you brushed your teeth before bed and saying in that beautiful voice of his; "One day, you and I, are gonna have a bunch of beautiful babies and we'll live far far away from here. Everything will be perfect."

You sobbed and nothing brought you out of it. The pain in your chest was unbearable, no stupid fucking sad song or badly written poem could ever express it. There was no comprehensible word in any language that could truly explain away the agony you were in. You were no longer paranoid that something was going to come and hurt you, in fact, if there was someone or something out there coming to get you, you'd happily let it come in and put you out of your goddamn misery.

It was two soft raps on your bedroom window from the fire escape that caught your attention. You froze and stopped your crying, listening for it again, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things.

It's when you hear them again that you manage to stand up on shaky legs and wander into your bedroom that you see a shadow, leaning its weight against the window tiredly. It was him. With all the energy you could muster up, you ran to the window and slid it open before grabbing ahold of him and pulling him into your bedroom. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack.

"Y/N," Jonathan whispered. You didn't say a word, just turned on the lamp to light up the room. If this was a dream, you were going to try and enjoy every second of it. If this was the only way you could see your Jonny then you would take in every moment. "I... I missed you." And when you turned around, ready to scold him, ready to scream your lungs out at him for being gone, your heart broke all over again. His clothes were torn and covered in dried-up blood. Jonathan's neck was covered in bruises in the shape of handprints and his eyes were tired and void of any life. "Jonathan..." You whimpered, approaching him, he winced a bit as you placed your hands softly on his face. "Where have you been? What happened to you?" You were going to be angry at him before but now you understood... it wasn't his fault. He was soaking wet and you could see he had been crying too.

"I... I can't... really remember... I was drugged..." He mumbled, Jonathan's fingers curled around your waist and pulled you into a bone-crunching hug. He breathed you in, embracing you again was the only medicine he needed. Holding you was the only thing that could tell him was truly okay. "The Batman got me... I don't know how I managed to escape... just ended up here... I've been walking for days."

"Jonny..." You were crying as you sat him gently down on the bed. "I thought you..." You whispered. The strength was not in you to say it. "I thought you were..."

"Dead?" Jonathan croaked out, his voice was hoarse in a way that told you he had spent days on end screaming, from the torture he had been put through. "Yeah, me too." He said dryly.

You helped him undress. The clothes were pretty much useless so you tossed them on the floor in a pile to throw away later. "Let me clean you up..."

"No." He said. "Not right now..." Jonathan shook his head as he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as you laid down in the bed with him again. "I just need to feel you..." His voice broke and in the process, your heart broke too. You could hear how defeated he was. "Need to feel you there." You understood, not saying another word as you clung to him. You listened to the sound of his heart, ear pressed right against his bare and bruised chest. You heard him sniffle, immediately causing you to pull away. "Oh, baby..." You cooed sadly, brushing a tear off his wounded cheek. The dam gates were open now as he began to cry, wincing at the salty tears mixing in with his busted face. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that happened to you... I was so worried... you're here now... you're here with me... my baby."

"I thought about you every second," He sobbed. Jonathan looked like a helpless little child at that moment, his blue eyes were pitiful. "I thought I was going to die... thought I was never gonna get the chance to say goodbye to you..."

Together you sat crying, both with relief and sorrow as the rain poured outside, the heaven's crying with you. Everything felt okay again, for the both of you, now that you were with one another. "It's okay, Jonny." You tried to console him. Things had happened to him before, he'd been beaten up or caught in dangerous situations but he usually came home shrugging it off, this time you could tell he was severely traumatized, you could tell this was going to take a while for him to get over. Jonathan had that thousand-yard stare, that mischievous fire that usually lit up his eyes had been extinguished and now reflected the dreary weather outside. "I love you, baby, it's okay... nothing's ever going to hurt you again." You whispered, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him as gently as you could, knowing his lip was swollen and split open, you could taste the metallic blood from his mouth and the saltiness of his tears.

"Y/N..." Jonathan wept, his face now buried in between your neck and your jaw. "It hurts." The tone of his voice was the most heart-shattering thing you'd ever heard.

"I know, my baby," You hushed as you laid back down again, caressing his hair that was still wet from the rain. "Nothing will ever hurt you again." You reassured once again. "Nothing's going to take you from my side."

You cried your own tears of sadness, relieved he was back in your arms, relieved that you were there to take care of him and nurse him back to health. The morning sun had begun to rise by the time you two had properly nestled into your bed, skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Jonathan slept in your arms, you held him like a baby, you couldn't sleep, too happy to have him in your arms again.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine..." You whispered softly into his hair.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #Jonathan Crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow x reader #batman #batman begins #batman dark knight #batman the dark knight #the dark knight rises #the dark knight trilogy #christopher nolan #christian bale

447 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 11 months

Note

Hi, I saw you were asking for requests and I thought I'd give you an idea for Max Verstapppen x reader fic. I don't request much so if it's too detailed I'm sorry, you can change anything you want, it's just a scenario I've had in my head for a while. I was thinking about enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine (also I'm a sucker for angst with a happy ending) ❤️❤️❤️

Ok, so imagine this: Reader is a new redbull media person/photographer and Max has an instant crush on her but acts like an a**hole cause he can't understand his emotions towards the reader. Other drivers tease him about it. I imagine someone ask why he doesn't like her and Daniel just straight up says "cause he loooves her" and Max gets all flustered. The reader is an absolute sunshine and tries to make him like her, even tho she is hurt by his behaviour. At some point (maybe right before a race or smth) he says something about her and she overhears and is heartbroken and suddenly stops talking to him.

I don't have an idea for an ending except that if you are up to I would love some smut 😂

Behind your walls

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: grumpy x sunshine, smut, angst if you squint.

Request: yes and it made me so happy. I hope I did your idea justice! My requests are open (specifically for Charles, Max Lando, and Oscar). Please don't hesitate to send in an idea!

Summary: Max knows he loves you but can't admit it to anyone, including himself. What happens when you over hear something he say? Will he be able to finally be vulnerable?

Warnings: Max is a jerk (blame is on Jos), pining, mentions of anxiety and a panic attack, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving)

Notes: second pov, I got a bit carried away, and I've never written smut before, so figured crossed it's not as cringe to you as it is to me. I think I changed like one or two things about the request but tried to follow it as much as I could.

If you have the chance, please check out my other work. likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I've started posting small snippets relating to my novel I'm currently editing, support for that is also always appreciated.

Masterlist

The following media is intended for those 18 and over. If you are underage, then please don't interact with this post.

Max has never been the best at dealing with his emotions. Sure he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, but all of them ended in confusion and heartbreak because of father wanting him to dedicate his entire being to racing.

So he did the only logical thing and walled himself off. Only having the occasional fling and never letting himself get to attached.

Then everything changed when he met you. Your sweet personality hired to drag him around all of his PR duties.

He'd made several of his PR managers quit. Ironically, not because he was an asshole to them, but because he had a talent for hiding from the press. It drove his managers insane. Redbull hoped that hiring someone warm and gentle was that you could coax him into fulfilling his responsibilities.

Everyone seemed to love you. Wherever you went, smiles followed. You'd even managed to convince Daniel into being productive and out of whatever his next shenanigan was. Not that you minded them, often laughing along with him if the situation arose. And to everyone's surprise, Max did spend more time with the reporters.

This, however, came at a price. For some reason that nobody could understand, Max Verstappen despised you. Or that's what you thought.

Max himself just thought he was doing the right thing for himself. No matter how many delicious coffies you brought him for early mornings. No matter how many of his jokes caused you to laugh. No matter the praises for wins and comforts for losses. Not even the look of admiration and respect you had for him and how he wanted nothing more than to sweep you away from this terrible world. He would not fall in love.

So he became a jerk to you. Giving you the cold shoulder. He always made sparky remarks at your expense. He even went as far as verbally telling you to 'piss off' even though deep down it hurt him too. Yet you still never wavered. Merely brushing it off and going back to whatever you were previously.

One day during a race weekend, Max found himself with Daniel during his downtime. The two of them eating lunch and chatting about life. The conversation was pleasant until Daniel brought up you.

"I don't understand why you don't like her, mate." Daniel chuckled a little, but there was genuine curiosity behind his eyes. Then, a realization hit the Australian. "I bet you love her! Like a crush from a schoolboy!" He announces for everyone in the vicinity to hear.

Was he wrong? No. But Max wasn't going to tell him that.

"You're wrong, mate. I personally find her incredibly annoying." He scoffed. He was also trying to convince himself of this. It wasn't working like he'd been intending.

"Why do you think? She's like the sweetest person I've ever met." Daniel gives a confused look to Max, who is struggling to find a reason why.

He finally gives the Aussie and awnswer. "She thinks anyone will do whatever she wants cause she's so nice. It's aggravating to see people flit around at her beck and call like she owns the place."

Daniel's face falls, a frown now gracing his lips. "Damn, that's too bad, I think you would've liked her if you'd giver her the chance."

It's at this moment that Max felt a looming presence behind him. The grimace if Daniel's face apparent.

"Sorry for interrupting, Christian is looking for you, Max." Came your voice. Not the one he was used to, you sounded on the verge of crying.

You turned on your heels and swiftly left to find somewhere secluded to compose yourself.

You hadn't intended on eaves dropping. You caught the tail end of their conversation as you were walking up. There wasn't much other noise around, and it's not like either male knows the definition of quiet.

Max, on the other hand, knew he messed up. He placed his hands over his face, shaking his head repeatedly. "I am stupid. I am stupid." He mumbled.

After the race that he managed to win, despite a rough start, he found himself immediately looking for you. Then he looked for you from the podium. And again, when it was time to be harassed from the media.

When he couldn't find you anywhere, he decided to ask Christian. He was hoping to get the chance to explain himself. Maybe even opening up a little because you deserved it after what he said.

Christian looked at him skeptically when he asked. "I thought you'd been told. She went back to the hotel. Security found her hyperventilating, so I had Daniel drive her back."

The rest of the day went by in slow motion for Max. Daniel mentioned a couple of times that you had anxiety. He'd mentioned that you are a people pleaser. You just wanted everyone to smile.

He hadn't realized how much damage his statement had done at the time. The guilt is now settling into the pit of his stomach.

He had someone else following him around. Definitely not as nice as you. He knew he'd fallen for you but couldn't admit it to himself. He needed to make this right. He didn't care if you hated him forever, but he wasn't going to let you think he hated you any longer.

Finally he was able to escape the cameras and locate Daniel. "I need your help."

You had spent your time in the hotel watching the race under your blankets and calming yourself down. You wouldn't lie that you genuinely liked Max. He started as an aquintance, but then you picked up on any grain he would give you. Any story he would tell to fill the silence. You wanted him to enjoy your presence as much as you enjoyed his. You knew you couldn't force it, but it wasn't going to stop you from at least being nice. Had you pushed it too far anyway?

Daniel knew about your crush. He said he saw that way you would listen to his long wonded explanations with patience and understanding and new only someone who loved him could manage that.

However, Daniel had also given you a false sense of hope. The Australian said that he saw how Max wanted to make you laugh. How he followed every PR obligation so you could keep your job. He wanted you around, too.

The tears started rolling again at the thought.

It's evening now. You hadn't eaten since this morning, but your stomach had no intention of letting you nourish yourself. Your anxiety over needing to make everyone happy getting the best of you. You hadn't had a panic attack like that in awhile. Even going as far as to dry heave because of the intensity.

You were exhausted, to say the least.

You wanted to sleep, but Daniel had texted, saying he didn't care if you wanted it or not, he is on route to bring you comfort food.

You did your best to make yourself look presentable. Though when you looked in the mirror, you definitely didn't look happy.

The inevitable knock came. You didn't hesitate to swing open the door, ready to be greeted by a cheeky smile.

What you got was a Dutch with a sheepish smile holding your favorite food and some flowers.

"Before you say anything, please let me explain." He rushed out. He needed to, though, since you were trying to close the door on him. Instead, you pause, considering his offer, and let him inside without a word.

He steps in the door. Finally taking in your appearance and the state of your room. Both are in dissaray. You sit on the edge of the bed and patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts.

You'd always been patient with him. Another reason he loved you.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

You didn't want to believe him, but there was a genuine look behind his blue eyes. You don't say anything. Opting to just listen to him instead.

"I know I fucked up." Max continues. His voice shaking more than you'd ever heard. "And I know you may never forgive me for what I've done to you. But I am truly in love with you." He stares at the floor. Anxiety making him cast his eyes to the floor.

You are shocked, rendered completely speechless at the confession. "Why?" Wat the only thing you could get out.

Max sets down what he is holding and finds the spot next to you on the bed. "I know I treated you poorly. I thought that in pushing you away, I would protect myself. But I fell for you anyway."

He inhales sharply. Staring at your glassy eyes. How were you so calm? He felt exposed and vulnerable. "You don't have to talk to me ever again. But I couldn't let you go without telling you I love you."

"I love you too." You whisper. His head snaps up in surprise. Is he hearing things? "I have for a while."

Nope, he definitely heard right. He watches your lips twist upward into a small smile and let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I know it'll take time, but please stick around. Let me show you hard I've fallen."

"It dosen't excuse how you treated me, but I'll give you a chance."

(AN: You can end here if you're not in the mood for spicy things or want to leave it at cute and fluffy... or not. Your choice )

The proximity between you two is so close now. Your foreheads practically touching.

Giving into the intense pull towards you, Max gives in and places his lips on yours. You taste sweet, exactly how he'd imagined. He could already tell he was going to become addicted. "Can I start tonight?" He might be pushing boundaries, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least ask.

He didn't hesitate to kiss you again when you gently nodded your head, yes. Giving him permission to continue for now.

This kiss was much more heated. Both of you hungry to act on all the pent-up emotions you had for each other.

You had one or two partners before Max. You know how to please. So immediately you moved to straddle him. Your inate need to put others first taking over.

It shocked you when Max pulled you off. Suddenly not knowing what to do with yourself. "Tonight is about you." He whispered in your ear. Planting kisses on your jaw as he lays you on the bed. "I'm going to show you how I've fallen for you." Kiss to your nose. "How much I love you." Kiss you your forehead. "And how much I need you." Puncuated by a slow sensual Kiss to your lips.

His lips move against yours with passion and lust. You open your mouth to give him access to your mouth, and he instantly begins exploring.

His hands gently caress the insides of your thighs and run up along your sides. Pulling your shirt up little bits at a time.

Your hand find themselves underneath his shirt. Your fingers are trying to memorize the feeling of his skin.

Max pulls away for you, panting heavily. "Can I take off some of your clothes?" He asks. His voice laced with new found confidence.

You'd never been treated like this. Often take advantage of because you are a giver. You gave constent sure, but this is a whole new level. You nod your head yes again, though looking skeptical.

Max picking up on this stops everything he's doing. "Are you ok? Your face is telling me something different."

"Yes, sorry, this is just a little new to me." You explain.

The shock hits Max once again. "Are you a virgin?!" His mind reeling that he was possibly going to take your virginity and he wouldn't have known.

He's more confused when you start laughing. "No, no! It's just that nobody has treated me so well before!"

"Oh, well if that's the case." A smirk finds its way onto his face as he straps you your shirt, then his. Then he takes your pants, your bra, and finally pauses. Laying kisses to every party of your body.

"I wish I hadn't closed myself off for so long. You're so beautiful. I've wanted you to myself like this for so long."

You pratically moan at his words. "Are you going to finish undressing?"

"What do you not get about me taking care of you." He places a finger over your lips to shush you. You sigh and comply. Letting him take control of the rhythm.

Max is over the top of you. Inching his way down. Sucking and leaving little marks as he goes.

He makes a pit stop at your chest. Gently taking your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. His tongue then finds the other one. Swirling it around, then sucking. Listening to you whimper beneath him.

"Do you like that lovely?" The cockiness in his voice not going unnoticed.

He trades sides with his hand and mouth. Trying to give equal attention to both your tits. His free hand now placed firmly on your hip to keep you still.

When he felt he'd given ample attention in one area, he made his way down lower. He stopped at your still clothed lower half. "Can I take these off you now?"

"If you don't I might cry."

Max has them off seconds layer. Now discarded with the rest of your clothes.

His gaze burns into you. His breathing erratic just looking at you. "Your are the most gorgeous thing on the planet."

You swallow hard as he finds a comfortable position. His head now in-between you thighs.

His finger gently rubs where you need him, and he places love bites to the insides of your thighs. "Glad to know I'm doing good so far." He smiles. His fingers are now coated in your slick substance.

You whimper again. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

He licks the finger that was previously touching you. Savoring every bit of the tast he can. "Exactly like how I dreamed."

It was your turn to chuckle now. "You dreamed of me?"

"Almost every night. I got off in the morning to the memory."

You want to dwell on his dirty confession, but Max's tongue doesn't let you.

It doesn't take him long to have you writhing. His tounge unrelenting.

His fingers find their way inside of you. The act alone almost sends you off the edge. Instincts take over as you find yourself closer to utter bliss. Your arms struggle to push max away. His arms hooked under your thighs to hold you close keep you from doing so.

Your back arches as you release. Max is slowly coming to a stop as your ride out your high.

Both of you are breathing heavily. Max's fingers are still caressing your hips as you both catch your breath.

Realization hits you. "Don't you need something too?" You ask, voice laced with anxiety over not pleasing him also.

Max only smirks, laying his head against your leg. "I fine, don't you worry. Tonight, we cuddle, and tomorrow I take you for round two."

And that's exactly what you did. Max helped clean you up and put on your pajamas. Then you two curled up in bed together. Him telling you everything he had been wanting to since he laid eyes on you.

You know this road worh Max certainly wouldn't be easy. But you're patient, and you'll wait for him. As long as he needs to let himself fully tear down his walls.

789 notes · View notes

lanawinterscigarettes · 5 months

Note

Can I ask for Natasha x reader where one of them calls the other one by their real name and the other one freaks out because they usually call them by petnames? Thanks!

Of course! I always love fics based off this idea 💞 this is kind of angsty because I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff alright 😭 also Малыш is supposed to mean baby in Russian, but I honestly have no idea how accurate that is

Terms of Endearment (Natasha Romanoff x reader)

Warnings: mentions of insecurity/self depreciating thoughts, not really hurt/comfort but also kind of?? Idk

You and your girlfriend Natasha had always been fond of using petnames for each other, often more so than your actual names themselves. Whether it be honey, sweetheart, darling, or simply just babe, you never ran out of cutesy names to call each other. But as much as you loved hearing the never ending abundance of pet names roll off Natasha's tongue, what you didn't love was how often you got teased for it.

You knew the other members of the team didn't mean anything by it and would stop if they knew how much it upset you, but the problem was you didn't really have a good reason for feeling that way. It seemed silly just thinking about it, childish even. So you kept your mouth shut, laughing along at their meaningless jokes as you made yourself a promise to cut down on the cheesy nicknames.

You hoped Natasha wouldn't notice the lack endearing terms on your part, but she did, of course. She always noticed the small things nobody else picked up on. It came with the job description of being an assassin.

Although she'd noticed it, she couldn't understand why there was a sudden change in your behavior, especially when she knew how much you loved the petnames you had for each other.

Because of this, she cut down on the petnames, too, and only used them when you were alone, hoping maybe she could solve the problem that way, even if she didn't know what it was.

It all came it a head one day when you were cooking together. It was just the two of you, everyone else either busy or in another part of the Avengers base.

Natasha was standing by the stove, making some sort of soup. "Малыш, could you hand me the salt?" She asked after tasting it and realizing it needed something.

The way you tensed up at the name she used for you did not fly past her, and it caused her to let out a small sigh. "Are you okay? You haven't been using nearly as many petnames for me as you used to, and I've noticed whenever I use them you seem... upset. Even when we're alone."

You let out a sigh yourself, knowing it wouldn't do you any good to lie about it. "I... I was hoping you wouldn't notice." You began meekly, looking down.

Natasha had a slight frown on her face as she turned towards you fully. "And why is that?" Her tone was gentle, but firm. It was clear she wasn't going to let you leave without some sort of explanation.

"It- its not you. Or me. Its the others," you confess quietly. "I didn't really like the way they teased me whenever I called you honey or babe, so I stopped all together."

She nodded her head, the pieces suddenly falling into place. "Ah, so that's why. At first, I thought I'd done something to tick you off." She joked, it making her heart warm to hear the laugh that came from you after.

"No, it wasn't that, and even if it was, you know I could never stay mad at you." You said playfully, finally handing her the salt.

She took it from you and added some to the pot on the stove before speaking again. "I'll talk to everybody, and tell them to lay off on the teasing, that way you won't have to worry about it anymore."

You gave her a loving smile, your tone filled with gratitude. "Thanks, hon."

She smiled back at the petname before giving you a soft kiss. "Of course, darling. Anything for you."

Likes < reblogs | PLEASE REBLOG if you like what you read

Main masterlist | MCU masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @gilmore-angel @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream @whistle1whistle @alexxavicry @elenavampire21 @truthindreams @the-nightowl-blr @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @defstr8bl0nd13 (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

#marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fic #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu fic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fic

396 notes · View notes

python333 · 8 months

Note

Hello!! I absolutely adore your 141 platonic fics, I litterlay giggle and kick my feet when you post new storys about it. Especially since they're always gender neutral! Litteraly always check to see if youve posted a new fic, but anways!

I'm a really big sucker for found family mental health fics, especially when I'm experiencing rough times. If your comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could make the 141 catch Reader self harming or maybe just seeing the self harm on their arms accidentally and comforting them. Always love a comforting found family fic on cold nights.

If it's easier, I really love really any of your hurt/comfort type 141 fics with all my soul and eat them up anytime you post them. Especially since there isnt much gn!reader and TF 141 platonic hurt/comfort fics. So if you aren't busy than that's another option I would love to see!!

If your uncomfortable with it then that's fine and you can just ignore this post! Make sure to take care if youself aswell author. You're absolutely amazing! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

self-slaughter — python333

— — — —

synopsis reader is a medic and is caught harming themselves by the 141 in the medbay!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 6.6k

warnings self-harm [specifically using a scalpel], self-harm scars, dark thoughts [nothing too bad, but thoughts of pulling off your skin and harming yourself], painful wound cleaning [with iodopovidone], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hello anon!! i too am a big sucker for found family mental health fics, and completely understand this request, and i will happily write it for you!! a lot of this is based on my own experiences with this, so i hope that's okay and that you enjoy the fic!! as well as this request, i'll use this fic as an excuse to write a few prompts on my bad things happen bingo card, which will be displayed at the end of the fic! the prompt used will be: painful wound cleaning! expect wayyyy more angst after this LMAO. also, if this feels like glorification or anything else inappropriate for a fic like this, then please let me know! since it's mainly based on my own experiences, i assume it wouldn't feel *too* much like that, but still!

It gets kind of old after so long of doing it.

Almost like it’s a chore—as if stealing glances at your medical equipment, tools meant to save the lives of others, and wishing that it were being used to draw blood from your body was just an inconvenience. You complain about it in your head like you used to about school, like it was nothing more than some homework that was due a minute before midnight.

Right now, you’re alone in the medical bay. It wasn’t often that you were, typically two bumbling idiots would stumble in every few minutes talking about how they got injured while sparring, but for the past thirty minutes it’s been silent. While you appreciated the break from the constant explanations of why the soldiers you were to tend to had gotten injured, with the silence came very unwanted thoughts.

And with nobody to focus on came your unwilling lingering stare at the sharp scalpel on the small metal equipment cart that was just a few feet away from where you sat. It didn’t help that you felt oddly guilty today, either.

Well, the guilt wasn’t odd. You knew where it came from. It just felt odd, considering the cause for it happened a week ago.

The cause had been on a critical mission last week, where you were responsible for carrying medical supplies and ensuring the team’s well-being and general health. The medical equipment wasn’t particularly expensive or hard to get, but it was still incredibly important.

However, on that same mission, right towards the end of it, you’d been caught in the midst of an intense gunfight. Distracted by the heavy enemy fire, you dropped the small bag you’d been using to carry the medical supplies, and hadn’t noticed you did until it was too late. By the time you and the others were out and heading back to base, you had just realized you left behind the medical equipment.

All week, your fellow task force members had reassured you that it was okay and that it wasn’t that big of a deal, considering nobody got hurt. Still, even a week later, you’re hung up on it. Had someone gotten injured, what could you have done? You didn’t have any supplies to help them, so what would you have done then? Just the thought of that possibility makes you shudder.

The scalpel looks so tempting.

It’s not like you hadn’t used it before—you have the scars to prove you had, ranging from small lines that could be mistaken for cat scratches to tiger-stripe length cuts that make your thighs look as though they’d been mauled by a large animal. As elegantly as you describe them in your head, the visuals of them aren’t nearly as pretty. With the help of that scalpel, a few sharp needles, and some medical scissors, you’d successfully made it look as though a bear had tried to attack you and tear your legs off.

Ironic, isn’t it? A medic harming themselves?

Your job is to literally save the lives of others, and here you are, staring at the closest thing you have to a knife in the medbay. It’s become as easy as blinking for you—which is scary, honestly, the way you’ve developed a tolerance for cutting yourself and stapling your skin back together if you’ve cut too long or deep.

It’s no longer enough to just scrape something sharp across your skin and watch blood bubble up from the broken seams of your flesh, no, now you have to cut even deeper to actually feel anything. You have to feel the scalpel being buried to the hilt in your flesh, and you have to see the way blood spurts out of the self-inflicted wound after you pull out the tool.

You continue to stare at the scalpel, sure that you look like you’re in some sort of trance right now.

It looks so tempting. You can remember the last time you used it—three days ago, the longest you’d gone without it in a while. Similar to cigarette-addicts, you often tell yourself that you’re able to stop whenever you’d like—that you’re able to quit at any time. It’s a lie, and you know it, but you still like to pretend that it’s true.

You’re still staring at the scalpel.

Its sharpened edge reflects the overhead light, creating a bright glow that strains your eyes when you stare at it for too long. The metal of the handle is worn down from use, even though it’d only been in the medbay for maybe a few months—something nobody had questioned yet, thankfully. The clean blade, replaced just yesterday, had no traces of filth or grime on it, making it even more tempting.

You blink. You hadn’t noticed the burning of your eyes until you forced them away from the small knife.

You move your gaze to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers, gently tugging at a hangnail that’s been lingering on your thumb for the past few minutes. As you pull on it, you feel the sting that it brings, though that sting now feels dull compared to the other things you’ve done to yourself.

It almost feels like a small pinch compared to the ways you’ve mutilated your thighs on certain nights that didn’t allow you the energy to do anything else, or the ways you’ve carved apologies in the forms of lines into your arms to try and gain forgiveness for your thoughts and temptations.

You pull the hangnail off completely and watch the miniscule droplets of blood bleed through your flesh and meet your skin and nail. Before you only had the energy to do your job and harm yourself, you would’ve hissed at the sting pulling off the small bit of skin caused you and grabbed a bandaid immediately, but now, all you can think about is how it isn’t enough.

About how much better you’d feel if you pulled all your skin off. If you could feel every inch of your skin stretched to its limits and torn off of your body, because God knows you deserve it.

The thought makes you wince. That is… disgusting. Why am I thinking about that? You shake your head in hopes that it would shake away the dark thought, but instead the action makes it rattle inside your brain and break off into tiny bits in pieces, small unwanted thoughts of wounding your flesh rolling around your mind.

Similarly to Sisyphus and his boulder, you try to push those thoughts out of your mind, your hands starting to curl into tight fists, but you just can’t. Every time you push a thought back, it comes rolling back to the forefront of your mind, the momentum it gets from being pushed back so far only to get rocketed forwards making it even more unbearable to think about.

The fists your hands have formed become tighter.

Each thought that gets pushed back only jumps forwards once again, ricocheting around your brain, the effort of trying to ignore them making your ears ring.

Before you realize it, your gaze snaps back to the scalpel.

You don’t even notice the blood that begins to spill from your palms from how deeply your nails cut into your skin.

Every thought tries to be louder than the other, creating an unholy cacophony of sound; a terrifying harmony that only grew louder every second that passed. You stare at the scalpel. It continues to reflect the bright gleam of the overhead light, and it continues to make your eyes strain the more you look at it, but you can’t find it in yourself to be all that bothered about the eyestrain.

You unclench your fists and stand up, walking the short distance over to the metal medical cart where the scalpel lays, and you grab the handle of it with shaky hands. You look over at the door for a moment, and stay there for another few seconds.

Once you see that nobody’s coming in, you rush yourself to one of the beds, sliding open the curtains in front of it and sliding them back so that they’ll obscure anyone else’s view of you using the scalpel on yourself.

You sit on the bed and although the scalpel almost slips out of your hand because of the blood from your palms, you manage to keep held in your tight fist, holding it like you would a pencil; tucked under the base of your thumb, and going through the gap between your index and middle finger.

With your hands still trembling and your breath uneven, as well as a bustling mind that only grew louder as the scalpel in your hand grew closer to the skin of your forearm, you made the first incision. Almost immediately, your mind quieted, and your headache dimmed.

Quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of a clear head, you lift the scalpel from your skin, not waiting to watch the blood bubble up from your open wound like you usually would, instead opting to make another incision right next to it.

Being a medic, there was nothing you could really do to stop yourself from thinking about how deep each incision was, and how deep you were cutting into your flesh—so while you cut yourself, a train of thought begun.

Half an inch deep, You push the scalpel deeper, Now a full inch. Should take a month or two to fully heal. Wouldn’t scar.

The thought of it not scarring should make you happy, or at least, neutral, but instead the thought makes you frown. Some odd hunger that comes from the indefinite pit in your stomach craves evidence for the malice you’ve shown towards your own skin, something that would prove your self-hatred.

So, you go another half inch deeper. Scarring would be possible, but not as high of a chance as if you went another half inch. With that thought, you go the last half inch. There we go.

You slide the scalpel blade through your flesh, the blade cutting through it like it would a firm fruit like a pear. It’s easier to cut through skin when the skin is pulled taut, You think, If only I had an extra hand.

You pull out the blade and repeat. You feel less guilty already.

All that worry about fucking up during your last assignment washes away, like the wave of guilt that overcame you earlier receded and pulled back that worry with it, lowering the tide of shame and self-reproach within you. In fact, the tide lowers so much that it almost completely disappears from your mind—like it never existed in the first place.

Reminds me of a tsunami, You repeat your actions with the scalpel, When the tides get low, so low that the ocean floor shows and you could walk where you’d originally have to swim, it’s because a tsunami is building up.

You look down at your work. Your forearm is a bloody mess, crimson red dripping down to your fingers and threatening to drop onto the stark white sheets of the bed you’re sitting on. You sigh tiredly and get up from the bed, putting the end of the scalpel’s handle into your mouth—ignoring the voice in the back of your head that reprimands you for not thinking about bacteria or contamination—and biting down to hold it whilst you slide the curtains in front of the bed to the side, walking out of the small resting area.

You grab the scalpel and set it onto the metal medical cart by your desk, grabbing the gauze on that same cart, opening the small box it’s kept in with your non-bloody hand. It’s a struggle, but you manage it open, and you shake the roll of gauze out onto the cart.

In the middle of you attempting to pull the end of the gauze off of the roll so that you could begin to wrap it around the red lines decorating your forearm, you hear loud footsteps walking near the medbay. You freeze in place, the gauze roll in one hand, your eyes burning holes through the door with how intensely you stare at it.

There’s a knock. Then another.

The door handle twists.

You stare at the door, and everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second.

The door opens.

“Hey, dae ye hae any—” Soap walks in, the sergeant taking one look at you before cutting himself off with a confused and immediately worried, “Holy shit, whit happened tae yer arm? Are ye alright?”

He rushes over to you and takes your bleeding forearm into his hand. You almost immediately rip it away from his grip.

“Nothing! Everything’s fine! Just an accident,” You lie, holding the blood-covered forearm close to your chest, “I was just about to clean it up.”

“Dae ye need help wrappin’ it, an cleanin’ it up, or anything?” Soap asks, eyebrows furrowed and his expression beyond worried.

“Nope,” You insist, “It’s fine. All good here.”

“... Ye sure?”

“Uh huh,” You nod your head, “All good. Don’t worry about it.”

“‘kay then,” Soap tilts his head and crosses his arms, “Whit happened?”

“Just a little accident with some of the equipment,” You nod down to the bloody scalpel on the medical cart, “That’s all.”

It must be obvious you’re lying, because Soap sighs and says, “I think we baith ken that that’s a lie.”

You stay silent for a few moments, before Soap speaks up again, “Ye ken if ye dinnae tell me, I’ll jist jump tae conclusions, richt?”

You take a deep breath before mumbling something under your breath. When Soap’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, you repeat louder, “I used the scalpel. On myself.”

“Ye whit?”

“I used the scalpel on myself,” You look away, and rush out, “and I’m really sorry, I just couldn’t help it, it’s not like— like a normal thing or anything, it’s just this once, I swear, and— and—”

“[c/n], calm down,” Soap quickly uncrosses his arms and sets both hands onto your shoulders, furrowed eyebrows now taking a more concerned shape, “It’s okay.”

You take a deep breath and look at him, looking at his nose instead of his eyes because you don’t think you could handle eye contact right now, “I’m really sorry.”

“Why would ye dae that tae yerself?” Soap asks, voice soft and almost pitying, which makes you want to curl up and die.

You shrug, not wanting to answer verbally.

“Dae ye— dae the others ken?” Soap questions.

“No.”

“I’m—” Soap looks conflicted for a moment, “I hae an assignment… I’ll get Gaz tae help ye, aye? An’ I’ll check in wi’ ye as soon as possible?”

You hesitate, but end up nodding in agreement, thankful that Soap offered to get Gaz rather than one of the others. The others seemed so oddly scary right now that you don’t even want to think about how they’d react to this whole situation. It’s all gone by so fast—one moment you were sitting on a hospital bed, the next you’re found out by Soap of all people—you’ve barely had time to think about the others.

“Okay. Okay, okay,” Soap repeats the word under his breath like a mantra, thinking to himself for a second before sighing and looking down at you again, “Jesus, fuck, okay. I’ll go get him, ye stay here, aye?”

You nod again, this time your vision begins to get more blurred.

“Ye’re gonnae be okay, okay?” Soap tries to reassure you. You nod once again, sniffling a little bit, making Soap’s gaze soften.

He takes his hands off of your shoulders and gives you one last sad look before turning around and rushing out of the medbay, his thundering footsteps growing quieter as he gets closer to Gaz’s location—most likely his sleeping quarters.

You wait a moment and when you hear no footsteps, your gaze goes back to the blade. It’s not like it’ll hurt to do a few more. I’ll stop when the others arrive.

You grab the handle of the blade, and as quickly as you can, akin to an addict scrambling for substance, you slice through the skin of your non-mutilated hand. You make several quick and deep gashes before dropping the scalpel onto the medical cart again, breathing heavy, the cuts this time actually hurting. It felt like fire was running rampant through your nerves, all stemming from the self-induced wounds, and you winced at the new pain. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but still.

When you hear footsteps again, you can tell they aren’t Soap’s.

The door clicks open and in walks Gaz, already looking very worried—presumably from what Soap told him about your… situation—with another person in tow. Right behind him, Price walks in, expression neutral so far.

Gaz looks over at you, his eyes widening as he sees the bloody gashes in your forearms. Without a second thought, he rushes over to you, his hand reaching for your forearm. Before you can stop him, he grabs your bloody forearm and pulls it up a bit so that he can look at it closer. You flinch, and Price quickly walks over to you two before Gaz can even utter a single word.

“Let’s not, okay?” Price’s version of ‘knock it off’, “I’m here, I’ll take care of their… thing. You hand me what I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yup— Yes, sir. Captain,” Gaz corrects himself quickly, making a slip-up that in any other situation would’ve made you at least chuckle, but all you can do now is stare at the pair as you hold your bloody arms to your chest.

Price looks back over to you and nods over to one of the many empty curtain-surrounded beds and says, “Go sit over there and wait for a few seconds.”

You nod, not knowing what else to do or say, and immediately walk over there. It’s the room furthermost to the right, the one that’s also the closest to the door and the one you’d coincidentally gone into to cut yourself.

You slide the curtains to the side and sit down on the white bed, and just a few seconds later, just as Price said, he walked in as well. He sat next to you, Gaz in tow, the latter carrying a jar of cotton pads and balls as well as a bottle of Betadine.

Betadine—or iodopovidone, whichever name you preferred—was a sort of antiseptic that was generally used for cleaning cuts and wounds. Maybe not ones as deep as yours, but it would still work just as well.

Despite it not being alcohol-based, or really having any alcohol in it, it still hurts the same as rubbing alcohol would, which you were… definitely not looking forward to.

“Sergeant,” Price takes the jar and bottle of Betadine from Gaz, “Go and grab the skin stapler for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Gaz nods, walking out of the room once again. Price sets the jar and bottle of Betadine onto the bed beside himself after he leaves.

With you and Price now in the room alone, he turns to you and holds out his hand with his palm faced up for your arm silently. You carefully put your forearm onto his hand, watching as he gently pulls it closer to him, looking a bit closer at it before sighing through his nose and using his free hand to open the jar of cotton pads.

“How did this happen?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Soap didn’t fill you in?”

“No.”

You think about what to tell him for a moment. What’s too straightforward? What’s too vague? How do I not overstep? How do I not sound like I just want attention?

Eventually, you settle on, “I was— … I saw the uh… scalpel, and I just… decided to use it a little bit. On myself.” Definitely not the best you can do, but what else could you say? ‘Oh, I cut myself with a scalpel because I felt guilty and if I didn’t I probably would’ve had a panic attack or a mental breakdown’?

“…” Price pauses for a moment, eyes twitching for a split second before he continues his movements to grab a cotton pad and questions you, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“You know what I’m asking, [c/n].”

He’s asking why you did it. There’s not one simple answer you could give him—sure, you could tell him that you felt guilty and it was a bad habit that you’ve told yourself you could stop but never tried to, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

You can’t fully express or dictate why you do it, you just do. It’s like when you cut slits into bread before baking it. Without those slits, the bread would crack and split at the seams on its own, but with them, the splitting and expanding of the dough is controlled.

Except, with you, it’s like you’re cutting yourself before the tension building inside of you makes you burst at the seams. Taking a blade to your skin has given you a sense of control—maybe that’s why it’s so addicting, You think, it’s the only way I’ve been able to control my feelings.

But you can’t just say all of that. Well, you could, but did you want to? Fuck no.

Instead, you opt for shrugging, which doesn’t satisfy Price one bit.

“I could see you thinking about it,” He sighs, “I know you at least have some sort of real answer.”

Well, fuck. “It’s a long answer.”

“I never said it couldn’t be.”

He doesn’t move to grab the Betadine at all, instead waiting for you to talk.

You purse your lips and think for another moment before finally talking again, “I was feeling really guilty and tense, and I guess it just got too much, so I just kind of… had to. Like I felt like I was gonna fuckin’… I dunno, have a nervous breakdown or something. And honestly, it’s a really stupid reason, because the thing that I’m feeling guilty about happened like a week ago, but still—I’ve been feeling really guilty about it. It—It’s not like I can’t stop, if I tried I could, I swe—swear, and I just— it’s been really easy to just— you know? I— honestly, it’s not that big of a deal—”

“Hey, hey—” Price brings a hand to your shoulder and softens his voice, “It’s okay. I understand.”

“I ju—st… I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, quickly bringing that same hand up to cup your jaw, “You’re okay. You don’t have to say sorry.”

“But I—”

“Shh.” You hadn’t even noticed how frantic your breathing had gotten during your small word vomit. And to just make things worse, there’d been tears gathering at your water line, well on their way to spilling over and creating tear tracks down your cheeks.

You can’t help but let go of all the tension in your shoulders the moment Price starts gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. The moment he does that, it’s practically game over for you.

Those tears spill out from the corners of your eyes and you can already feel your next breath get caught in your throat, leaving you to just let Price gently guide your head to lean forwards against his chest, letting out small hiccups and trying desperately to hold back the sobs you want to let out.

It all happened so fast, you don’t even know how you got here. One moment you were doing a good job of somewhat keeping your guard up, the next your resolve was crumbled completely by the gentle and oddly caring touch of Price’s hand.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, then someone walks in while you’re burying your head further into Price’s chest—Ghost. You can tell it’s him by the way he walks. He has long strides, he never drags his feet, and the moment he slides the curtains to the side to see you, his footsteps stop. They start up again a moment later, and he sits by your side, opposite of where Price is sitting—to your right instead of your left.

Gaz must’ve let him in while he was looking for the stapler, You think, sniffling against Price’s chest. Normally, you would’ve felt some sort of shame by now, but given the current situation, you didn’t find much room to give a shit.

You feel Price’s head move up slightly, and judging by the way he occasionally nods and sometimes moves his hands a bit, you can only assume that he’s having some sort of nonverbal conversation with Ghost right now. This conversation goes on for about a few minutes longer before you’ve managed to control your breathing a bit more.

Price can tell, and he asks just for confirmation, “Is it alright if I clean your cuts now?”

You nod and sniffle once before taking your head off of Price’s chest, looking down at your lap, simply holding out one of your blood-crusted arms to him. You can see Ghost stiffen up behind you almost immediately at the sight of it.

Price grabs a cotton pad from the jar he was handed earlier, as well as the bottle of iodopovidone, and soaks the cotton pad with said iodopovidone. Once it’s soaked with the antiseptic solution, he hesitates before pressing it to your bloody arms.

Almost immediately, you inhale a sharp breath and feel tears stinging your eyes again.

“It’s okay,” Price tries to calm you down, seeing the tears forming in your eyes again, “You’re okay.”

You sniffle and shift on the bed, trying to blink away tears that threaten to spill over your water line. Ghost, sitting by your side, puts a gloved hand over your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your shoulder. His eyes twitch as you bite the inside of your cheek to muffle another sob while Price presses another Betadine-infused cotton pad to your self-induced wounds, and although you can barely see him, out of the corner of your eye, you still catch the glint of new tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he watches you.

Gaz slips back through the curtains in front of the bed, this time with Soap in tow, and hands a skin stapler to Price. Seeing the skin stapler, something you used fairly often—often enough that the others knew how it worked and how to use it—automatically made your stomach turn.

“Told ye I’d come back for ye,” Soap murmurs, kneeling down to get about eye-level with you. You huff out the smallest laugh at his words and he gives you a small smile that makes you want to go lock yourself in a room with a scalpel and repeat what you’d done earlier all over again, his empathetic expression paining you more than taking a blade to your arm.

As a matter of fact, the expressions that you wish were pity coming from everyone around you hurts more than anything you could’ve ever done to yourself. Their concern was so unexpected—not that you don’t think they care, but you never thought they cared this much. You didn’t think that, if caught in the act, you would receive empathetic looks and solemn smiles, rather thinking that you would receive reprimanding. That you’d be punished for punishing yourself.

Price thanks Gaz silently with the curt nod of his head before turning back to you with a solemn expression that in all honesty makes you more guilty and disappointed with yourself than before. He holds the skin stapler like he would a hot glue gun, looking down at the open wounds in front of him, and holds your forearm closer to him so he can see the edges of the cuts better.

"Keep your arm like that," He murmurs, to which you respond with a nod and stiffening your arm so that it stays in the air where Price positioned it. He uses his now free hand to gently pull the edges of the cut you'd made closer together, aligning them the best he can before pressing the metal staple dispenser to the cut and pushing down on the trigger, stapling the two edges together with a click.

He holds it down for an extra second before releasing and pulling the stapler away from your skin, and although the process only took around three seconds, you'd never get used to the feeling of getting your skin stapled. You make a small, pained noise that has Soap wincing as well--as though he can feel it too--and Price looking more solemn than earlier.

“Finished with this one,” Price mutters as you swallow down another sob, holding his calloused-but-soft hand out for you to put your other forearm in. You do just that, nearly breaking into a fit of new sobs at the small ‘thank you’ Price utters.

You watch Price soak another cotton pad with iodopovidone with his free hand and suck in a deep breath as he presses it to your forearm, the originally white cotton pad almost immediately going red. Tears spill over your waterline and roll down your cheeks as he continues to clean and disinfect your wounds, and before you can move your free hand to wipe them away, Ghost does so for you, his rough gloved hand swiping below your eyes quickly.

You mumble a small 'thank you' that's barely even audible, sniffling as you can’t help but lean forward the tiniest bit into Ghost’s hand as it lingers on your cheek. He pauses, keeping it there for a second, before bringing that same hand up to the crown of your head and pushing gently on it to urge you to lean your head back. You do so, the back of your head quickly making contact with his Adam’s apple and the top of your head becoming tucked underneath his chin.

His hand goes back down to your shoulder and continues its ministrations of rubbing small circles into said shoulder, bringing you intermittent moments of comfort throughout the painful wound cleaning you had to endure.

Soap keeps a comforting hand on your knee as he’s kneeled down in front of you, his thumb occasionally copying Ghost’s, but otherwise remaining still on your knee, careful not to force you through too many different sensations at once.

Gaz watches you from by the curtain, seeming not to do and looking completely lost. He stands there for another moment, watching the others, seeing what they’re doing for a second, before giving Ghost a ‘one moment’ signal by holding up his index finger and stepping out of the curtain-surrounded area.

Right after he does, another painful sting shoots up your nerves from your forearm, and you make the mistake of looking down at it.

Wounds that only fifteen minutes ago had brought you to a calmer state of mind and were nothing more than incisions made by the scalpel you’d used to cut other people for entirely different reasons now almost hurt to look at. Once you could’ve compared them to marks left by wild animals, and you could’ve described them as though they were trophies, but now, as you stare down at them being cleaned by your own captain, they look nothing like the sort.

They don’t look like any of the pretty descriptions you’d given them. They don’t look like cat scratches you’d gotten in an accident, or like something you would get out of a fight with a bear—they don’t make you look strong and brave like you thought they did.

They look like tally marks. Sanguineous, gruesome tally marks, made by you, like you’d been counting down the days—or seconds, minutes, hours—until you’d had enough. Until you’d had enough of just carving your skin with medical equipment, and needed something more. Craved something more.

Price must notice you staring down at the wounds, because he pauses in his movements to clean them for a moment, the sudden stopping of the stinging sensation the iodopovidone-soaked cotton making you shiver. You look up at him, and see him already looking down at you, concerned.

“You’re thinking about something,” He points out softly, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

You hesitate and look back down at your arm that Price had stopped cleaning, before mumbling, “Just thinking about how these are gonna scar.” It’s not entirely a lie, but not entirely the truth either.

Price tilts his head to the side a bit, questioningly, “Do you know how they’re gonna scar?”

“Well, when you work in the medical field for a bit, it gets easier to tell.”

You can tell he wants to ask how they’re gonna scar, so you decide to just say, “They’re all about one-and-a-half to two inches deep, so they’ll heal fully and then scar in a few months. Once they do, they’ll be visible, but not too prominent. The scarring tissue will stick above the skin a little bit, and it’ll make it look a little bit puffy.”

“Alright,” Price hums, tone neutral, “So they’ll be… visible.”

He sounds disgusted, A voice in the forefront of your mind insists, while one from the back of your mind tries to tell you, You have no way of knowing that, just see where the conversation goes. He has no reason to be disgusted with you.

“Yeah.”

“Okay then,” Price sets the cotton pad down and grabs the skin stapler he’d been using earlier, “And it’ll take a few months to heal, you said?”

“Several months, yeah.” Price considers this for a moment, pausing in his movements to hold the stapler to your skin.

“Do you think you’ll need any help re-wrapping the bandages while they heal?” He inquires, resuming his movements after asking the question.

“…” You think for a moment, Will you?, and after a few seconds, hesitantly, you reply, “… Yeah.”

“M’kay,” Price hums softly, neutrally. “And would you want me to be the one who does it?”

You think for another few minutes. Preferably, you’d be doing them yourself, but you didn’t trust yourself enough for that—so getting one of them to do it for you is your next best option. You wouldn’t mind if it was Price doing it, but at the same time, you wouldn’t mind if Ghost, Gaz, or Soap did it either.

“It doesn’t matter,” You settle on, before tacking on, “As long as it’s one of you four.”

“Us ‘four’ being… ?”

“You, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

“Got it,” Price nods. You see Soap smile softly out of the corner of your eye before he quickly stops, trying to purse his lips into a line. He’s probably thinking that he shouldn’t be happy about that, You think, almost amused. You feel Ghost’s thumb stutter on your shoulder as well, before it starts back up normally.

Your words affect them more than you thought they would.

Breaking your train of thought, Price staples your skin with a muted click, making you wince.

It’s silent for a few more moments before Gaz finally comes back, now out of breath and carrying a bar of chocolate. He hands you the chocolate bar and says, panting, “I almost had to spar someone for that. Why do you have to like the chocolate one of the other fuckin’ Lieutenants do?”

You take the chocolate bar with your free hand gingerly and blink at it for a few moments before setting it down next to you.

“Nobody told you to get it,” You shrug, before tacking on, “Thank you, though.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, totally, hey so uh—” He looks at Soap and jabs his thumb towards where the door would be behind the curtains, “We’re both needed somewhere else. Again. They said they forgot something… again.”

“Worst fucking timing ever,” Soap grumbles, before clearing his throat and standing up, looking down at you, “Right, I’ll check in on ye later, and help ye wi’ anything ye need me tae, aye? I’ll come wi’ mair chocolate than Gaz did, ‘cause I’m better than him.”

“Got it,” You smile up at him, making him grin back and pat you on the shoulder Ghost’s hand isn’t occupying, before heading out with Gaz.

Then, you’re left with Ghost and Price.

“I should get going too,” Ghost mutters, slowly taking his hand off of your shoulder and gently pushing your head back off of his chest, almost regrettably.

“M’kay,” You watch as he gets up and hesitates, looking like he’s about to give you a hug, before he decides to instead give you a simple head nod and head out the same way the two other operators did.

And then, it was just you and Price.

It’s silent for a bit, until Price speaks up.

“You think a lot,” Price comments, finishing up the last staple.

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

You pause for a moment before sighing through your nose, “It’s nothing. Just the same stuff I was thinking about before.”

“Wanna give me some more detail than that?”

“Not really, no,” You admit, letting your hand fall into your lap as Price lets go of it, “But I have a feeling you’re gonna want me to tell you.”

“I do.”

“It’s just something stupid, like earlier—”

“That wasn’t stupid, [c/n], that was you hurting.”

“I— I know. It’s just that this is actually stupid.”

“Well, tell me what it is, and I’ll be the judge of that.”

You think about how to phrase it in simple terms for a moment, before finally speaking, “I used to think that the scars sort of… symbolized how I was able to control myself and my emotions, and that made me feel…” You can’t think of any synonyms to make the simple words you want to say sound less childish, so you’re forced to say, “… brave. And strong. I just— I thought it showed that I was good at controlling my emotions and stuff, for some reason. But now I’m questioning all of that.”

“You’re very brave,” Price reassures you, and God, it sounds like he’s reassuring a child, “And you’re so strong. But this… this isn’t how you show that. This—cutting yourself—doesn’t make you either of those things. It doesn’t show that you’re either of those things. It shows that you need help.”

“But you just said that I was strong.”

“I did.”

“… Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”

“How would I be contradicting myself?” Price asks.

“You said that me— me… harming myself shows that I need help.”

“It does,” Price hums, and at your confused expression, he continues, “You needing help doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. Needing help and being strong aren’t connected like that.”

You open your mouth to argue but you close it, not knowing what to say. Price sees this and smiles knowingly, simply grabbing your hand to squeeze it once before getting up.

“I’ll check in on you later, okay? I need to get some stuff done, but as soon as I can, I’ll be back to keep you company. Or I’ll send someone else over—whichever you prefer.”

“M’kay,” You mumble, squeezing Price’s hand back before letting go. “You can do whatever. I don’t mind either one.”

“Sounds good.” Price pauses for a moment before leaning down and giving you a quick hug, and then beginning to slip past the curtains blocking any outsider's view of the bed you were sat on.

Before he can leave, you quickly say, "Thank you. For the wound-cleaning-thing."

He pauses at the curtain for a second, before smiling and replying, "You're welcome."

for those curious, the bthb card so far:

449 notes · View notes